#such a simple thing but I HAVE to get it every time I'm in the UK
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cressidagrey · 13 hours ago
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Holy Ground - Chapter 2
Summary:
Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.
Warning:
Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries
If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.
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Azriel’s shadows liked to spoil his mate rotten.
Not that Azriel could find anything wrong with that.
She deserved more for putting up with him. 
More than new tea from the Dawn Court and her favourite chocolate covered, wafer thin cookies from a small bakery near the Sidra…more than the occasional embroidery thread they snuck her…More than whatever animal he went to go hunt, to cover his bed in even more furs just for her. 
He nearly had enough Sable furs to have a blanket made for her for Winter Solstice…
Azriel also had half a mind to go sneak in her office later that day. 
Just as a treat for not killing either of his brothers. For being civil. 
Rhys had come over for sparring, unnannounced. 
Azriel had hoped to have some peace and quiet today, but it seemed like Rhys had other plans. 
Currently Cassian and Rhys were wrestling with less sense than they had had when they were just kids, and Azriel was cleaning his weapons, watching from the sidelines.
Azriel couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of his brothers roughhousing. It was typical of them to turn a simple sparring session into some kind of ridiculous competition. He focused on sharpening his knives, trying to ignore their antics.
"You know, we could also actually train properly," he called out, his tone dry. "Instead of wrestling like a bunch of children."
Cassian looked up from his grappling with Rhys, grinning. "Oh, come on Az. Don't be such a stick in the mud. Loosen up, have a little fun for once."
Azriel's expression remained impassive. "I'm perfectly capable of having fun, Cassian. But I prefer to do so without rolling around in the dirt like a wild animal."
Rhysand chuckled, standing up and clapping Cassian on the back. "It's good to let loose every now and then, Az. You should try it sometime. It might make your brooding sessions a little less depressing."
Azriel just grunted in response, not willing to engage in a verbal sparring match with Rhys. He continued to clean his weapons, hoping that the training session would end soon so he could escape his brothers' teasing.
“When did you even come home yesterday?” Cassian asked him.
Azriel looked up from his work, his expression neutral. "Around 11," he said simply.
“You didn’t come to dinner,” Rhys pointed out. “You were missed.”
He highly doubted that.
And maybe he had made that mission in Dawn just a little while longer, so that he knew that dinner would be over and when he came home, he wouldn’t need to be alone.
Azriel just shrugged. "I was busy," he said, offering no further explanation. He knew his brothers were just trying to rile him up, and he wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.
*Are you still pissed of at me?* Rhys asked him mentally with a sigh. *I get it. But you don’t need to avoid everybody else, just because…*
*I’m not avoiding anyone,* Azriel replied, his mental voice tight. *I’m simply choosing to spend my time how I see fit.*
“I was busy,” he repeated aloud.
Cassian rolled his eyes. "You're always busy, Az. You know, there's such thing as taking a break once in a while. Spending time with your family."
Or he could spent time with his mate. He could spent time with his mate, who let him brush her hair and even braid it …who pressed kisses to his horrible scarred hands and smiled at him. 
If it was a choice between Irena or a family dinner where he didn’t want to stay longer than an hour or two, because he was still too fucking pissed off at Rhys…the choice was easy. 
“Or is there a special somebody?” Cassian teased him.
Azriel glowered at him. "It’s none of your business." He went back to working on his weapons, his expression tense.
*You can’t keep panting after Elain for the rest of your life,* Rhys said mentally. *Look, I know I didn’t…I am sorry. But she’s happy with Lucien and…*
*Don’t worry, I’ll go to a pleasure hall and pay for it if I want to fuck somebody,* Azriel shot back viciously.
Or his own hand would suffice. More than suffice, especially if…especially if Irena had let him kiss her the evening before…sometimes he waited until she disappeared into her room, and he buried his face in the pillows that smelled like her, fisted his cock and rutted like an untried boy for seconds before he came all over himself. 
It was still better than any other sex he ever had had before.
Cassian raised an eyebrow at him. "It sounds like you need to get laid," he said, chuckling. "Maybe that'll help with your bad mood."
Azriel shot him a glare. "Mind your own business, Cassian. My love life is none of your concern."
Rhysand gave him a sympathetic look. *We just want you to be happy, Az. You deserve happiness.*
“Ohhh, touchy,” Cassian said with a snort.
Azriel just gritted his teeth, his temper rising. "Cassian, if you don’t shut your mouth right now, I swear to the Mother, I’ll shut it for you."
Cassian just grinned at him. "Come on, Az. I’m just teasing you. Lighten up."
Azriel's grip on his weapons tightened. "I don't like your teasing, Cassian. And I certainly don't appreciate you making assumptions about my personal life.”
Mostly he just wanted his brothers to leave him the hell alone.
And then...then before he could say another thing...he felt the shaking.
And then the sound came. An eardrum shattering explosion, the very foundation of the House of Wind shaking. It was terrifying him.
Irena was down there in her office. Nesta was in there. 
He was moving before he was even thinking. 
*Merrill's office, Master!* the shadows screeched.
Azriel was already running.
Cassian hot on his heels, so was Rhys.
Azriel was faster, heaving shadows around his limbs as he rocketed down the spiral stairs of the House of Wind.
Level Two, Straight to the right. Clearly...Clearly the epicenter of the blast. Of the explosion…of whatever had happened.
He pushed as hard as he could, legs burning as he hurtled down the hallway to Merrill's office.
He wasn't the only one. "Merrill!" He could hear Gwyn's shrill voice screaming, coming to a stop in a hallway of what had once been Merrill's office but now was just...
It was a mass of wood and rubble.
He barely slowed down, scrambling into action. Gwyn was already digging through it, so where Nesta and Emerie. Cassian landed behind him, immediately moving some of the debris.
His shadows swarmed as he and the others quickly dug at the rubble. Looking, desperately looking.
He moved another piece of rubble out of the way...a piece of blue cloths. The same blue cloth that he knew covered Irena's body, the scent of poppies clinging to her...Without a thought, he grasped and then dragged, a hoarse shout that was her, that was her...
He felt as if he were choking, as if he were drowning as he dragged out her body. Bloody, bruised, broken but still...still there was a faint flicker, a faint, thready heartbeat.
His heartbeat pounding in his ears, he tried to pick up on her heart. There was barely a flicker. Too fast, too faint, she was barely holding on. Barely hanging by a thread.
There was blood pooling on her abdomen, dying the blue dress she wore bright scarlet red, He put pressure on that wound immediately, leaning on her with nearly all his weight, his fingers slick with blood. "Damn it, stay with me, love," he demanded sharply.
Azriel felt like he could barely breath. Like he was falling, tumbling down as he tried to will her to stay with him. Stay. Stay. Stay. Please stay. Stay...
Rhys was there suddenly, checking her pulse. "Breathing is erratic. She's in shock," he told Azriel with a grimace. "Mor is getting Madja..."
"Az..." her voice was so weak, but he turned to see dark brown eyes watching him, brows furrowing.
"Just keep breathing, Love," he told her, trying to stop his voice from shaking.
He could barely hear what was going on around him. It was as if he were in a bubble, a world of just himself and her and the desperate beat of her heart under his fingers.
"I am sorry," she whispered.
"There is nothing you need to apologise for her, Irena," he promised her sharply. "Absolutely nothing."
Irena's eyes drifted shut. Azriel felt like something was dying inside him as her heartbeat fluttered against his fingertips. His world was collapsing, shattering into pieces as her breath stuttered.
"Stay. Just stay..." he was barely aware of what he was saying, his eyes frantically searching hers. She had to stay. He would do anything to keep her here. Anything.
"I am still owing you that flight," he told her. She hadn't let him take her flying yet. They had snuck away in the library...in the rooftop garden...in her office. But he had never gotten to take her flying. He had never gotten to take her out into Velaris. They had never had a date at a fancy restaurant, had never gone to see the symphony. There were thousands of things that he hadn't yet gotten to do with his mate, because they had all the time in the world.
Irena just stared at him, her eyes pleading, as her heartbeat slowed, fluttering weaker and weaker. Azriel felt a sharp pain in his chest as fear clawed at his spine. "Just hold on a little longer, love," he whispered. "Please."
And then there Madja. Thank the cauldron. There she was.
Azriel could barely manage to let go of her, his mind consumed with the singular thought of Irena's laboured, erratic heartbeat as he moved back. Madja immediately set to work.
He lunged for her head, lunged to pull it on his lap, to touch her with blood slick fingertips, her normally rosy red lips pale, her skin even whiter than usual.
"Hurts," she whispered, as Madja set to work, barking orders.
"I know, I know, love," he whispered, touching her cheek with his fingertips as Madja got to work.
His eyes searched hers as he murmured those words over and over, as if he could somehow hold her in this world through sheer force of will alone.
"We haven't had enough time," he whispered desperately, leaning his forehead against hers.
She was slipping away. He could feel it. Feel her slipping, feel her heartbeat slow. Feel the thread that tethered her to this world fray, fray, fray...
No. He couldn't lose her. Would not let her leave him. He had waited far too long for her. Far, far too long to let her slip through his fingers.
"Stay with me," he pleaded. "Please stay with me."
But her eyes were slipping shut, her head lolling to the side. He gently patted her cheek, trying to urge her back to consciousness, but he didn't think he was even really aware of what he was doing, where he was. The world had boiled down to a desperate litany, in his head. Stay...stay...please...don't you dare...
“I am going to be so furious with you if you die. We may have our first fight,” he told her fiercely.
He needed her to know that he would be there to be furious with her if she dared to die, that she couldn't die. Couldn't. That she had to stay. Had to keep fighting. There were too many things ahead of them...a wedding to plan, children to have, years and years of life to live.
“Az,” she breathed his name, her eyes not even open anymore.
“Open your eyes, Irena,” he demanded. “Look at me, love,”
Her eyes finally fluttered open at his command. It was barely more than a slither of brown, but he latched onto it, taking it for what it was. A chance. A moment to get through to her.
He wasn't sure what he was saying, but the words spilled forth from him, a litany, a desperate prayer. "Please," he breathed, "don't go...don't you dare..."
He was dimly aware that the others had gathered, but he didn't dare look away. Didn't dare look away from her as he cradled her head, trying to pour all of his prayers into those words. All of his hope and desperation.
"You can't go." A statement. An order. An absolute certainty in his voice. "I will not let you go."
He wouldn't. Would never, ever let her go. Would drag her back from the Cauldron's grasp with bloodied and broken hands if thats what had to be.
She didn't speak. Didn't need to. He could read her answer in her eyes, the determination in those brown eyes as she tried so, so hard to stay.
It was as if she were holding on for him, because he had asked her to. Because it was him there with her. Like she would fight until her last breath because he told her too. He didn't deserve this beautiful creature, who was willing to fight for him, willing to live for him.
It was something primal, something desperate, something fierce as he whispered those words over and over, like a prayer. "Fight. Fight. Fight."
And she listened. She did. He could feel her hold on, just barely grasp hold of that tether that kept her in this world. Just barely keep her eyes open.
Just look at him.
And she did, those dark eyes unfocused but open, staring up at him, watching him. Trying so, so hard. It nearly made his heart stop in the most terrible way that she was struggling for him.
And he was so proud of her. Of the way she was fighting like she was. Of the way she was grasping, hanging on to life like she was.
The seconds stretched too thin, feeling like eternities and only the slightest of moments. But her eyes were open, if only barely. She hadn't given up. Hadn't let go.
He was dimly aware of the others, Gwyn hovering with a worried expression, Madja murmuring quiet instructions to the others, Rhys kneeling not far away. But he barely glanced at them, barely dared to take his eyes off Irena.
He was certain that if he looked away, if he let this tenuous thread sever, that she would die. That as long as he kept her here, she wouldn't slip, wouldn't let go.
He had one hand on her cheek, her skin still clammy and pale, as her eyes slipped open and shut. But everytime, they would find his face. His eyes, like he was the only thing tethering her to the world. It hurt. Hurt so much to see her barely holding on, only that last sliver of determination keeping her here.
"Please," he pleaded, whispering those words like a prayer, like he would be praying to a vengeful god. Those moments felt like eternities, stretching on and on with only his desperate whispers. "Please..."
The world felt so still, so silent as if the world was holding its breath. Azriel's eyes locked on Irena, silently begging her, asking her to please, please...
Live, live live... he whispered those words over and over, a desperate plea to the Mother, the Cauldron, to anyone who would listen. To Irena, the only person in the entire world who truly mattered in that moment.
Her eyes were growing glassy, slipping closed only to jerk open again. Stay he demanded. Keep looking at me. Please.
She tried. Mother, she tried. Her eyes drifted to him, the smallest hint of life, of a spark there in those dark brown eyes.
He hardly dared to breathe, hardly dared to move. Afraid that any wrong move could tip her over the edge, could pull her into that chasm of non-existence that she was desperately clinging too.
He felt something pricking at his eyes, felt something in his chest cracking, breaking at the sheer intensity of emotions thrumming through him. It hurt. Hurt so much to see her like this, so pale, barely holding on, barely conscious...
“Alright,” Madja said quietly. “Good girl. You were so very brave.”
"Will...will she be alright?" He asked, voice hoarse.
He didn't let his eyes drift from Irena's face, her half lidded eyes staring at him. It filled him with such an intense pang of relief and fear at the same time. Relief, because she was alive...and fear, because they had been so close to losing her.
"She's not out of the woods yet," Madja warned. "But she'll make it. She lost a lot of blood. It will take some time to get her vitals stable again."
He felt like he could breathe for the first time. It was almost dizzying, the sheer, intense relief that flooded through him. Irena was here. Irena would live. It filled his veins with an almost drug like euphoria, that made him light headed, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.
He barely managed to keep that feeling in, the pure euphoria from showing as he smoothed a strand of hair back from her face. "Thank you," he whispered, voice hoarse, eyes finally dragging away from Irena's face to look at Madja. "Just...thank you."
He looked back at Irena, taking in her face. Alive. Still alive. Still here with him, not gone. The tension seeped from his shoulders, a strange sort of exhaustion taking over. As if all the adrenaline that had fueled him, the fear, was slowly draining out of him like water.
“Merrill,” Irena whispered, her voice near silent.
Azriel felt his fingers brush her cheek, just the gentlest touch as he tried to keep it together. It had been too close. Too, too close. He couldn't stop the overwhelming feelings flowing through him of elation and fear as he looked down at her as he looked down at her, alive. Alive and breathing and whispering soft words. "Shhh," he whispered softly. "Save your strength. Don't strain yourself."
He looked up finding Cassians gaze who just shook his head. Merrill was dead.
Azriel couldn't quite process that information, not in that moment. His eyes were still drawn to Irena, still unable to take his eyes off of her for more than a moment. His fingers brushed her cheek again, just the faintest touch as he pressed a small kiss to her forehead. "Rest," he instructed softly. "I'll be right there.” He promised.
“Being here to her room,” Madja said quietly.
“My room,” he corrected.
The priestesses dormitory was locked from males. If he even tried to get in there it would’ve end well for him. And he wouldn’t leave her side.
“Your room?” Gwyn asked sharply.
“Gwyn,” Rhys said quietly.Azriel didn't even acknowledge Gwyn's words, didn't have the energy. All he could focus on was the way Irena's eyes had drifted shut, the steady rise and fall of her chest. She would be alright. She was going to be alright. She was alive. Right now, in that moment, thats all that mattered.
“Az, how long have the two of you…” Cassian asked hesitantly.
Azriel just shrugged, his hand resting on Irena's hair, smoothing back from her face. “Two years. She’s my mate,” he said flatly as he gathered her up. 
“Mate,” she rasped. “Mine.”
“Yours,” he agreed softly.
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hannieehaee · 2 days ago
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I was reading your boob or ass svt reaction and vernon's part reminded me of that one tiktok trend. I lowkey wanna see more of his reaction. Make it like oc is trying it out on him, he could just be doing anything and oc walked in and just flashed him idk just a suggestion hehe nice fics btw!
18+ / mdi
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content: bf!vernon, established relationship, smut-ish (fades out into smut), reader has boobs, boob worship, etc.
wc: 1088
a/n: this is the perfect concept for him thank u for the request!!
masterlist
"sorry, babe, i'm just finishing up this one thing. i'll be free in a bit, okay?"
those had been vernon's initial words when you'd asked him to come to bed so you could watch a movie you'd been meaning to for a while.
he somehow had a week off between his packed schedule, yet he had been spending most of it fine tuning some music on the small at-home studio he had set up a while back. you'd tried calling out to him a few times already, but he had absentmindedly dismissed you each time, an apologetic look on his eye each time he did.
after about an hour of constant dismissals, you were getting kind of fed up by the wait. had it been any other day, you would've let it slide, understanding that he had a busy job that required working from home on occasion. however, the two of you had agreed that you'd limit work this week in order to fully enjoy vernon's short-lived vacation. yet you now stood (well, laid) in bed huffing after yet another 'i'll be right there, babe' from your boyfriend.
enough was enough. you'd have to take out the big guns.
literally.
like any other man, vernon was a simple guy. when you first met, he was a bit of a mess any time the two of you hung out. it was clear to everyone and their mother how much he liked you. his crush on you manifested in shy glances and the occasional senseless ramble.
as the two of you got closer and eventually started dating, he became more chill around you, now considering you one of his best friends as well as his girlfriend.
there was just one thing that had not changed from back when the two of you first crossed paths. and it was the way he'd react to your body.
just as any other man, the sight of a nice pair of boobs could get him completely out of commission, shy in his glances and stammering just like back when you first met.
he could be formidable in bed, but he absolutely could not resist you if you caught him off guard. any time you initiated sex or sent him nudes out of nowhere, you'd have him wrapped around your finger within seconds.
today, you'd have to use a similar strategy once more.
getting up from your bed, you threw off your tank top without a thought, leaving yourself in just a tiny pair of sleeping shorts. looking yourself over in the mirror, you straightened your back so your tits could be in their nicest state for your boyfriend.
you made your way to his studio, finding him slouched over and working on something on his computer, back facing you. you knew that if you walked over to him and messed with him by wrapping yourself around his frame, he'd merely shrug you off with a chuckle and a promise to come to bed soon, so you went for something a little more out there.
"baby?" you called out from the doorframe, leaning against it in a casual yet sensual way.
"hmm? i'll be right there, baby," he practically dismissed you.
you audibly huffed, "look at me, at least?"
"oh, you're here?", of course he was so absentminded he didn't realize your voice was no longer coming from your shared room but from behind him.
turning around, he put down his headphones and faced you, eyes widening in surprise at the sight. he opened and closed his mouth a few times, brows furrowing in confusion and head cocking to the side. despite his confusion, you could tell his eyes were glued to your tits. they went back up to your eyes every few seconds but mostly remained south.
"baby?", he finally questioned.
"are you coming to bed, nonnie?", you asked as you slowly brought your hands up to your tits, taking short steps towards his chair.
"i, uh, i still have to-" he cleared his throat, "i'm almost finished, baby. i promise," he reassured, though not sounding too sure of himself.
"but you've been saying that for hours," you pouted.
"i- i know, baby," he sighed, "it's just- i just have to- fuck, can you put those away? i can't think when they're just staring at me," he groaned, interrupting himself.
"put them away?", you whined, "don't you wanna play with them, nonnie? they're so sensitive ... it's cold here. wanna see?", you asked once you'd made your way to him, standing over him as he sat on his chair, hands on his knees and digging onto them in what was clearly frustration.
"baby, please ... i need to finish, just- oh. oh, okay, i guess this is happening now," he gaped when you straddled him without such thing as a warning, tits now on his face.
"nonnie ..."
he shook his head, "don't say anything else, i- just, yeah ..." and with that, he ducked his head to get one of your tits in his mouth, hands pulling you to him so your covered cunt could sit right against his hardening dick — his thin sweats left nothing to the imagination.
"fuck, nonnie ..." you sighed as he let himself go on your tits.
his tongue explored them, uncaring in the trail of saliva he left behind. nothing mattered when he had his favorite things at his disposal, practically begging to be marked up by him.
"you're so fucking mean to me," he groaned with no actual conviction in his voice, "this is why i never get any work done at home."
"are you complaining? want me to- ah! to take them away?"
"shut up," he grumbled as he increased his ministrations, mouth going from one nipple to the other as he made out with them.
at some point, his hands had reached the back of your thighs, lifting you with him as he sat up from his chair and resulting in a yelp in surprise from you. as he attempted to walk you out of the room and towards your bedroom without bumping into too many things, you interrupted him with a mocking laugh.
"thought you had work to do?"
"baby, if you don't shut up and let me take you to bed i'm putting a lock on that door and now neither of us gets to have fun," he threatened with a huff.
all you could do was sigh in contentment when his lips enclosed around your bud once more, ready to let him have whatever he wanted.
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hvbris · 3 days ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy
Samantha would have liked to tell Killian that he would never hurt Violet. But she knew that things were not that simple. She had seen agents turn against fellow agents, friends, and even loved ones. When the mind slipped away, terrible things could happen. It was useless to pretend otherwise, that would not reassure him at all. "I understand," she said instead, "nothing happened earlier, and I'm here now. It's gonna be ok."
"You punched them in the throat, hm?" she then said with an appreciative whistle, to try and lighten the mood, "that sounds like a pretty effective move to me." And, knowing Violet, she had a feeling she had fought back, too. If she wasn't afraid to shoot Sloane, she wouldn't be afraid to attack a mean orderly either.
She nodded. "I know. It's all jumbled together for now, but it's gonna get easier. You just have to give it time." Time, Samantha knew, was often the best and only medicine for the mind. Nothing was as efficient as patience. Humans were terribly resilient if you just gave them the time.
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"You're gonna have to express all these emotions, to let them out," she also explained, "but I'll be here, ok? I'll help you." And they both knew that, should he snap, she could handle him. It was a strange bond that only Delta Green agents could understand. Trusting someone with your life, yes. And trusting them to stop you when needed, too.
A little chuckle left her lips. "It sure is. I know all the songs, now. I'm impressed that you recognized the ocean landscape, I see you have quite the experience when it comes to baby art." She smiled at the praise. Samantha, like every mother, agreed. Her daughter was amazing at everything. Obviously!
Theo nodded for her advice on what to do if he felt himself slipping back into thinking he was in the ward. Little and simple things would be easy to do and he trusted Samantha's advice. After all she did see a lot of very troubled agents in her line of work.
Reassured that Samantha would talk to Violet, he settled himself again, drawing in a deep breath. "I didn't want her alone with me," he said quietly, still worrying for Violet and her own state, wishing he could help and be that support she needed. He was so grateful for Samantha, Violet needed someone who understood what was really going on. "I would lash out at the orderlies a lot, I used to punch them in the throat. I didn't want to risk it with her." If she leaned to hug him or managed to trigger him in some other way. "She needs someone who knows what's happening." He was of no use in the moment, he could at least acknowledge that and if rule breaking meant that Violet would have someone to help her then he would break every rule there was to do so.
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Mauve had indeed been in pyjamas and tied her hair up in a strip from the hem of his right leg. She wore her bruised face and sore arm and side. He sighed deeply, lost for how he could help her. "Yeah," he said of Samantha's suggestion on focusing on differences. "It was easier when her face was a blur," he huffed a small false laugh and shook his head on the pillow. Poor Violet, what must she be thinking?
Her confession to being worried about him earned a little glance of apologetic concern her way. But he accepted the folded paper as she offered it out to him, taking it with a shaking hand of his own to look over the squiggly lines and the attempts of circles. "Little Mermaid is the new favourite?" He asked, assuming it was an underwater landscape. He cracked a little smile and genuinely admired the work for a moment, he had always been such a sucker for kids. "She's quite the artist."
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whokilledsamara · 3 days ago
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I saw you write for homicipher! Can I request some Mr Silvair Headcanons? I barely see content of him and I'm hungry 😭💕 I will give you my heart as a sacrifice 🏃🏻‍♀️💨
MR. SILVAIR HC {N/SFW}
a Mr. Silvair hc list. {an: hand over that heart!!! >:3}
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warnings! : sadism, orgasm denial, smut, blood play, Mr. Silvair is an extreme dom, marking, hair pulling, semi cuckhold, experimenting, afab and amad genitalia described
{an : this isnt bad per se, BUT he is very sadistic and is in denial of his love for you}
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SFW HC "relationship" hc
unfortunately, a relationship with Mr. Silvair will be difficult to maintain.
he is in HEAVY denial that he loves you, and claims it is just experimental for "science", though inside he cant deny that you make him feel a certain way.
in his eyes, if Mr. Chopped likes you, then he likes you. simple.
wont push your boundaries, so tell him if you dont want him to do something specific when experimenting.
he will rarely let you touch him, but at no times will he allow you to touch his "eye" bandages. those are off limits to anyone.
doesnt understand "love" or most human reactions, so dont expect him to be all lovey dovey with you.
very work influenced man. will be nose deep in books.
doesnt hold grudges at all. so if you upset him a simple apology will fix it. even if there is no apology, it wont affect him.
he is relatively friendly with the others, but mainly close to Mr. Chopped.
doesnt sleep, so sometimes will watch you sleep. for "experiments" of course
i swear this man doesnt know how to button his shirt.. so you will have to be used to that.
he really likes your eyes. he has a weird fascination with the colors.
surprisingly possessive. usually he wouldnt care, but he does tense up when someone else touches you.
he does make it known that he is attracted to you, but tries to exclude the word "love"
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NSFW HC sexy time..
he knows every spot, being a doctor and all, therefore he doesnt need much teaching. does enjoy learning things he already knows though for some reason.
adores your body. he doesnt express much emotion in general, but if you are lucky he will show a little bit over your body during sex.
makes little to no noise during the act, likes watching your expressions.
will absolutely let Mr. Chopped watch. for some reason.. only as long as you are comfortable with it of course.
respects boundaries, so please respect his.
he makes sure to keep your hands tied or something at all times. will rarely let them be free.
he doesnt give head often, but will on certain occasions. usually doesnt let you give him a blowjob, so that is very rare from him.
will laugh as he edges you. you would have to beg for him to let you cum, and even then he might not. likes to see you cry over him.
if on the rare occasion that your hands arent tied, he will let you pull his hair. he quite enjoys it actually.
if, and only if you allow him, he will use his scalpel to make light cuts along your body so he can lick the blood.
definitely the kind of guy to fuck you during your period if you menstruate. he gets down like that
{an : i love him sm, im definitely going to make a fic for him. send in requests!}
{ made by @whokilledsamara }
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Astarion doesn't ask for affection because he can't..... yet.
Ah, more tea steeping in this seeming endless sea of thoughts. This brew is a bit strong on the heart. Read with caution.
Warning for game spoilers and talk of abuse.
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This perspective is from game content only. How anybody cannons their relationships or behaviors is perfectly right. No blame, no shame, it's your game.
I was always miffed at the lack of initiated affection from Astarion as a partner. YOU ask him for a kiss. YOU ask him for a hug. YOU ask him to tell you thank you after being an amazing partner and killing a massive beastie just for him! Brat...
But then I had a sudden realization. Given his past, affection is probably insanely hard to ask for. Like it can be for a lot of us.
Stay awhile and listen. (nerd)
Now when I speak of narcissistic abuse I am only speaking from what I know about it. I have no academic or phycology degree on the matter. Just good ol' tossed in the pond and forced to sink or swim experience.
Astarion spent 200 years under the crushing weight of narcissistic / psychopathic abuse. One of the things these types of abusers love to do is take what you love and make you hate it and then make you hate yourself for ever having liked it to begin with. All very nasty business that. But it's one of the main corner stones for the cage they build to control you.
They make you feel as if the request of a simple hug is the most pathetic thing you could ask for. Or the most selfish thing as it inconveniences them. They don't want it, why should they give it to you?
Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..
200 years with a master who used him like a tool. 200 years with siblings that fought amongst each other so much comfort was a liability. Nights coming home assaulted only to be mocked for your tears. Insulted for your need of comfort.
"Pathetic! Weak! Disgusting! "
Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..
Affection was nowhere to be found there, I assure you.
And for a Narc. anything given is expected to be "earned" in any way they see fit. And if you were "rewarded" with anything, it comes at high price.
And how dare you not find it fair. You ingrate!
Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue..
Hugs are pathetic. Kisses are an intrusion. Or they become gateways to other unwanted behaviors. To be held...what are you? A baby? The only way you are going to get held, is down.
Shame, belittle, degrade, devalue.. The pattern continues.
But you ask HIM for a kiss. And he says..
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"There is nothing I'd like more."
And he means it.
I'd bet a mountain of gold he wants to just ask you himself. But years of conditioning to expect pain when seeking pleasure probably keeps him in a choke hold. Like rats that are shocked every time they try to eat food out of a dish. They learn it is safer to starve.
"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or a hug, but they might think i'm weak. But if they ask me first then it's them who wants it and they can't degrade me for it because they asked, not me. It's safe then."
"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or hug, but they might reject me for being too needy and shame and berate me for being so selfish or demanding of their time and person. But if they ask they have time and want me to kiss/hug them."
"I want to ask Tav for a kiss or a hug, but my primal brain keeps telling me they might demand more than I want to give in return for it. But if they ask, I have the power of negotiating the outcome."
This leads me to believe he would view sex and affection very differently as well.
Where most find affection safe and nurturing, it's anxiety educing and unsafe. It means there are feelings and if there are feelings there is the risk and fear of rejection or judgment. It's much scarier.
Where most find sex to be connecting and intimate, it's been used so much it's lost any meaning. Something you can do a thousand times over and walk away the second it's done and feel nothing afterward.
This may even be a part of the reason why he wants to stop having sex.
He wants to connect with you in ways denied to him. He wants the experience of being courted, treasured, nurtured. It means so much more to him than sex. It is so much more connecting.
Feeling this way is wretched and lonely. The most basic instinct is to want to seek comfort in the arms of those who love us. But it's broken. The risk is too great.
And it's hard. Because you could be the sweetest most honorable Tav in the whole of Fearun. But after being fed poised apples one too many times, all apples appear poisonous regardless of if is true or not.
I have no doubt that this prickly elf soaks up every second of non sexual affection you give him. And truly is grateful for your patience while he slowly and carefully disarms the safety measures he put in place to survive. The fact that he even allowed you to touch him like that at all was a monumental act of trust. And why not? You are incredible after all.
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I'm going to go ask my elf for a kiss now. And then cry in my cup.
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gffa · 19 hours ago
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*walks back into BATFAMILY fic fandom eleven months later, holding a Starbucks cup* I'm right on time, I don't know what you mean. AND I have returned with the fruits of a fandom that continues to be incredible at providing the good stuff! Sometimes it's still hard for me to grasp just how much fic has exploded onto the scene in the 10+ years I was away from DC, that there was some incredible fic back when I was into the fandom, but coming back to actual mountains of it has continued to blow my mind every time and made me love these characters even more than I already did.
It's almost overwhelming, honestly, how much good fic there is to read, so let me scream at you guys and shove links at you because I'm having a great time here and I want to drag all of you into it with me, COME HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT RIDICULOUSLY DRESSED SUPERHERO COMICS WITH ME, it's all fun and games, I swear! (Okay, but at least you'll have a good time crying about the Bats, I can give you that much at least.)
BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST GREMLIN ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ sleepless, perfect duty by glassofwater, dick & bruce, 4.3k     The choice to forgo sleep, to forgo Dick Grayson, has never been easier. Not when the other option is Robin. ✦ Parallels in Reverse by rosetteanon, dick & damian & bruce, time travel, 2.2k     Damian travels to a dimension that's a little bit behind his own. There, he meets a younger Dick Grayson, and a happier Bruce Wayne. ✦ string theory by wingdingery, dick & bruce & damian, time travel, 8k     When Bruce and Dick get transported to an unfamiliar Gotham, it only takes running into a different Batman and Robin for Bruce to realize two things: one, they’re in the future; and two—in the future, Dick Grayson is dead. ✦ Rooftop Meetings by orphan_account, dick & bruce & leslie & shrike & cast, 10.2k wip     When Two-Face almost beats a newly minted Robin to death, Bruce decides that the life of a vigilante is too dangerous for a kid. This becomes the catalyst for a series of events that leads twelve-year-old Dick Grayson down a darker path. ✦ It Could Stay This Simple (Just Stay This Little) by coconuticecream (magspie), dick & bruce, 3k     Maybe claiming legal guardianship over a child at 22, and so soon after becoming Batman, spread Bruce thinner than he'd realized. Maybe Bruce was less equipped to parent a third grader than he'd thought. Maybe Bruce should do more to invite Dick into his life. Maybe Bruce should hug Dick, or promise he'll do better by Dick, or tell Dick that he loves Dick more than he thought himself capable. (or: bruce and dick practice self care together.) ✦ No One Said Flying Was Easy by Wrtrmd2, dick & bruce & alfred, 51.1k     Eight year old Richard Grayson has just watched his parents fall to their deaths. Hurting and alone, he struggles to adjust to the new life he's thrown into. Bruce Wayne takes him in, but seems to have no idea what he's doing. Can they help each other put the pieces of their broken lives back together?
✦ Zitka by PechoraFlow, dick & bruce, 2.7k     After Dick's parents fall to their deaths, he is left clinging to the few things he has left: one of them being Zitka, his stuffed elephant. ✦ your heart is the only place that i call home by emavee, dick & bruce, talon!dick, 6.3k     There shouldn’t be any Talons that are this small, this young, but there’s one standing right in front of him. And that shouldn’t be Bruce’s soulmark blooming on his too-pale skin, but it is—there’s nothing else it could be. Batman really should know better than to bring a Talon home with him, but here he is, wrapping up the boy in a set of meta-cuffs and tucking him into the backseat of the car. ✦ Hostage by EternalLife, dick & bruce & alfred, 3.9k     Dick Grayson is 10 years old. Batman is nowhere to be seen, and Robin has a gun to his head. ✦ The Mother-Son Dance by cometoastop, bruce & dick, 1.8k     Dick is upset he doesn’t have a mother to bring him to his school’s mother-son dance, so Bruce offers to bring him instead.
BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Permission To Pause by farawayfiction (JJ_Thomas), dick & bruce, 1.9k     Bruce pulled the phone from his pocket. A text from Dick was waiting for him on the notification screen. ✦ oathbreaker by one_step_closer_to_death, dick & bruce & cast, 2.3k     Stranded and on his last leg, Batman might be fighting his last battle yet. But Bruce promised he was coming back home and this was one promise he wasn't going to break yet. ✦ Judge and Juror by CamsthiSky, dick & bruce & alfred, 6.6k     Anonymous asked: I was just wondering if you would like to write a story set during bvs and how Nightwing could be involved there? ✦ When You Don't Have an Umbrella by TheSilencer, dick & bruce, read the tags, 1.2k     Dick Grayson and Batman talk about the rain. Except they're not actually talking about the rain. ✦ riding the blues by TheResurrectionist, dick & bruce & oc, 3.9k     “What’s in there, anyway?” Charles asked, rolling down the window. “Looks heavy.” “A few million dollars' worth of electroshock weapons,” the kid said, dead-serious. After a moment, a grin stretched across his face. “Nah, I’m just fucking with you. It’s old clothes, mostly.” ✦ Lexically Homeless by nighhtwing (divineauthor), dick & bruce, 1.1k     Dick, Bruce, and their relationship with language and each other.
BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ One, Two, Buckle My Shoe by sElkieNight60, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce & alfred, de-aged!dick, 17k wip     Dick was twenty-eight. The boy in the mirror most certainly was not. ✦ Weight of Judgment by Dragonbat, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.6k     As leader of the Teen Titans, Dick had to make a difficult decision. Now he's dealing with the fallout. ✦ Robins, titmice, and other spring birds by Fleur_de_Violette, dick & jason & bruce, 8.5k     There are a lot of things Jason doesn’t understand in the dynamic of the Wayne manor, despite being here for nine months. Maybe a rescue turning a little more dangerous than it should have been for Robin will help him see things clearly? ✦ bachelor parties of different sorts by cedarcat, dick & jason & barbara & cass & bruce (& background dick/babs), read the tags, 4.4k     Dick and Barbara are engaged. There's just one complicating factor that Dick has to deal with. He'd rather avoid it. aka: the one where dick handles past trauma poorly, finds the support he needs in his family, and comes out better for it. ✦ Kitchen Talk by Smitty, dick & alfred, 3.1k     Dick Grayson gets some good advice in the hours before Nightwing #45. ✦ Teach Me to Dream by CamsthiSky, dick & bruce & alfred & leslie & cast, time travel, 29k wip     Dick’s eleven. Not thirteen and eager to prove himself. Not seventeen and mourning a brother. Not nineteen and wishing his best friend wasn’t dead and Bruce would look him in the eyes. He’s only eleven. So why does he remember all of that? ✦ like the back of my hand by Jo_B, dick & bruce & conner & dick/babs, 2k     “Cut it out.” “Would you stay still, please?” Dick swats Bruce’s hand away and starts pushing himself up. “Y’know, in the wild, bats eat their kids.” “That’s not even a little bit true and you know it.” ✦ idea man by vaporeon_ninja, dick & bruce & jason & damian, 8.3k     Ask him. As if it were that easy. As if Damian hasn’t only just barely begun to respect him, and would immediately burn all the ground they’ve covered if Dick so much as implied he wanted to help him get through something. Yeah, fat chance. No, Dick can’t ask him. But he can’t just keep doing nothing, either. So he decides on a third option- just start trying anything. ✦ One of His Own by DawnsEternalLight, dick & bruce & damian & alfred, 1.3k     Dick's freshly back from Spyral and apartment hunting. Little Does he know his dad has already got that covered. ✦ Now That's a Lot of Damage by Sanctioned_Chaos, dick & bruce & jason & tim & cass & cast, 5k wip     On a joint operation with the Justice League, Dick's family falls victim to a particularly malignant curse and he's the only one who can free them. Consequently, it makes him the subject of their suffering.
BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I'M GONNA THROW HIM AT DICK BECAUSE IT'S FUNNY (AND MAYBE SOME OF HIS OTHER SIBLINGS TOO): ✦ All the Roofs of Uncertainty by Kieron_ODuibhir, dick & jason & bruce & leslie & cast, 70k     For all the blood on his hands, Red Hood was never just a villain. And Nightwing never gives up on family, not for good. (Or: The one where Dick bleeds a lot and Jason argues with everybody.) ✦ Red In My Ledger by WordsAblaze, dick & jason, 1.1k     day five, where jason realises a little too late that dick isn’t an intruder breaking into his safehouse... ✦ Fixed Points and Fluxes by i_am_the_imposter_syndrome, dick & jason (& bruce), 16.5k wip     When a mission involving a mysterious sorcerer goes wrong, Dick and Jason find themselves out of time and place in a Gotham that’s not quite their own. Protocol dictates they lie low and avoid unnecessary interactions as much as possible until they can get home, but their family here is fractured, and if there’s one thing that’s constant across universes, it’s that Bats have each other’s backs. ✦ Too Close to Call by Dragonbat, dick & jason & bruce, 5.8k     Summary: Things go horribly wrong when Robin thinks he can bring in Two-Face by himself. Now Nightwing’s life is on the line and one bad decision might spell disaster!
BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I'M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ Won't You Stay A While? by fishfingersandjellybabies, dick & damian & tim, 2.8k     Ric did not expect to find a child sitting on the hood of his cab. Damian did expect to get his brother back. ✦ The Universe Doesn’t Get to Take This by fishfingersandjellybabies, dick & damian & bruce, 1.9k     “And they’re so important that you don’t come home to check on your recently un-amnesiac brother? And here, I thought I was your favorite.” ✦ Just a Little TLC by fishfingersandjellybabies, dick & damian, 1.7k     Dick was not sick. Really. He was fine. Fine!
BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ The Long Way Home by itsnatalie, jason & tim & bruce & dick & damian & cast, 111.6k     With Jason tentatively back in the Batfamily, things are going pretty well for him--except for the whole thing with Tim. But who gives a shit about Tim Drake? But when Jason and Tim are pulled into a frightening race for their lives inside a labyrinth that's out to kill them, they may have to look past their differences just to stay alive. Maybe along the way, they'll discover they aren't as different as they thought, and family comes in many different forms. ✦ IRIS Log #1548 by deadchannelradio, jason & cass & barbara & bruce & steph & tim & damian & roy & dick, 8.5k     A Disclaimer From Your Friendly Neighborhood Oracle: The following is a transcript of Patrol Communications Audio written by state of the art transcription technology, IRIS (Interpretation of Recorded Intelligence Software). IRIS was created to provide easily searchable records, automatically, and eliminate the need to transcribe each patrol audio log manually. That being said, IRIS is still experimental, and may not always be entirely accurate. ✦ Real Housewives (sort of) of Gotham by brandywine421, dick & selina & bruce & damian & jason & roy & talia & dinah & harley/ivy & helena & cast, no powers au, 5.9k     Selina is curious to a fault but she has a twinge of concern at her almost-stepson's name popping up on her personal line. They were allies and frenemies, depending on who was Brucie's favorite pet at the moment but he usually texts birthday wishes and xoxo's instead of actual voice contact. "Is everyone okay?" ✦ War! by Smitty, dick & barbara & tim & cast, 1.9k     What 'entertainment' was Nightwing talking about in Nightwing #44? Innuendo. ✦ Nowhere Safer by lurkinglurkerwholurks, dick & jason & tim & bruce, 9.6k     What's a Robin to do when the nightmares don't stop? ✦ Love like Cats by Laroyena, alfred & bruce & dick & jason & julia & cast, 20.7k     “This takes crazy cat people to a whole new level,” his old friend told him. “So this old family your dad took care of, they left their fortune to a cat.” Alfred Pennyworth, ex-special agent of the British Secret Intelligence Service, moves to America to become a butler. A cat butler. ✦ Minimum Height Requirement by Drag0nst0rm, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph, 66.4k     Somewhere in the multiverse, there's a universe where letting his children dress up in capes and follow him into vigilantism seems like a good idea. Bruce is determined that it isn't going to be this one . . . Despite his children's repeated attempts to convince him otherwise. (Or: "When you're eighteen, you can do what you want. Until then, no capes.")
✦ Family Crisis by librarylexicon, bruce & dick & jason & tim & cass & steph & leslie & cast, 85.8k     At the close of the gang war, Batman uncovers an attempted deception concerning the life of his former protégé Stephanie Brown, and suddenly nothing is as important as his family. While Dick seeks absolution, Tim struggles with grief, Cassandra searches for belonging and Steph rebuilds her sense of self, Bruce faces the return of ghosts from his own past and psyche. (War Games AU) ✦ grasp of ice by Kieron_ODuibhir, tim & damian, 6k     “Drake.” The hand in his was cold. Not because it belonged to a corpse, but because the night was cold. Cold and bright and pitiless, fresh snow glittering perfect under the waning gibbous moon like diamond sand. “Drake. Stay awake.” Drake, because he was insane, smiled before he said, “I don’t want your pity, Robin.” ✦ The Salem Protocol by Dragonbat, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & barbara & jim & cast, 47.4k     An AU version of Batman, RIP. When the GCPD makes a surprising arrest, Gordon knows he needs to call in support. Contains MASSIVE spoilers for Batman #678.
BATFAM FIC RECS - I CUT MY TEETH ON DICK & TIM AS CLOSE BROTHERS AND NO ONE WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME: ✦ Hide and Seek by WordsAblaze, dick & tim, 1.1k     day twenty five, where a mission leaves dick and tim playing a not-so-fun version of hide and seek... ✦ To be a good brother by andthentheyweretwo, dick & tim (&tim/kon), 7.7k     It’s not always easy to be a good brother. Sometimes, it’s downright hard. ✦ Think Happy Thoughts by fanfictiongreenirises, dick & tim & bruce, 2.3k     Dick's vitals keep crashing if his thoughts turn downwards. Tim tries to help. ✦ Hisstamine by coyote_nebula, dick & tim, 2.7k     Dick gets bitten by a venomous snake. Tim pretends to know exactly what to do. ✦ Words That Must Be Said by Dragonbat, dick & tim, 1.4k     Tim needs Dick's advice when his long-lost uncle turns up.
BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK/BABS FOREVER AND YOU CAN SHUT IT IF YOU DISAGREE, THEY'RE ADORABLE TOGETHER: ✦ I'll crawl home (to her) by dizarys, dick & babs, ~1k     She needed to focus. She was Oracle and Oracle couldn’t falter or be distracted by personal feelings, not when multiple lives depended on her coordinating teams across the city, the country, the globe. There was no time to worry about Nightwing or his radio silence. Too much going on to pester him. He got out, said he wasn’t majorly wounded, and she needed to trust him. After all he was Nightwing. Vigilante since he was ten. Dick didn’t need her worrying in his ear while trying to stay alive. They needed to be professional because anything else could end in death. ✦ to my word now I'll be true by theragingstorm, dick/ babs, NSFW, 4.7k     A chance night becomes something more. ✦ Scar Tissue by Smitty, dick/babs, 2k     Some scars heal more easily than others. ✦ Time Enough by Smitty, dick/babs, 1k     Barbara asked him for time.
BATFAM FIC RECS - I WILL DIE ON THE HILL THAT TIM DRAKE'S TRUE LOVE INTEREST IS CONNER KENT AND NOBODY CAN STOP ME, NOT EVEN GOD: ✦ What a Hunk (Of Rock) by AelinSardothian, tim/kon & cast, 4.4k     Tim is pulling another all-nighter when an injured Kryptonian lands on his balcony, leaking blood and affection. ✦ Obligatory Nap Time by egg_thief, tim/kon, 2.6k     Tim hasn’t been sleeping lately. Kon’s determined to at least get him to take a nap ✦ GUY.exe by thebodydies, tim/kon, NSFW, 4.6k     “If you tell me what you want,” Conner said, “I’ll do the rest.”
BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ threadbare by inconstant_moon, dick & jason & tim & damian & bruce & donna & cast, read the tags, 53.8k wip     That's the thing. Dick looked right at the kid, broken hand and all, and nearly let him in. He nearly let him train. Because after all these years, he didn't process anything wrong with the image before him. (Dick, Bruce, and the implications of raising a partner instead of a child.) ✦ Kindness isn't Free by minnow_doodle_doo, bruce & dick & alfred, no powers au, 6.7k     “You need to love humanity unconditionally or else the world will beat you into the ground and you won’t be able to get back up again.” He said into Dick’s hand like a prayer. “And you can’t kill what you love and survive.” ✦ Home Assignment by librarylexicon, dick & bruce & tim & babs (some dick/babs), 6.8k     Blüdhaven police officer Dick Grayson is suffering the tail end of a nasty cough when he's summoned to work a stakeout as Nightwing with Batman and Robin in Gotham. As the night wears on, his worst fears are realised when three urgent pleas for help pull him in separate directions, forcing him to choose between members of his own family in a way that feels suspiciously intentional. ✦ How Sharp The Pieces Were (You Crumbled Into) by WinterSky101, dick & tim & damian & cass & bruce & alfred & steph & duke & cast, 14.9k wip     Dick is back, but scars like his don't heal easily, even with a new healing factor. (Thirteen stories of Dick and his family in the year after his return to Gotham.) ✦ Pain o' Chocolate by Anonymous, bruce & dick, 1k     Dick is in a coma.
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zepskies · 3 days ago
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Heyo! So not sure how youd even write this from a story perspective— maybe headcanons r easier idk— but! What would Current SB/Ben say to his younger self (your choice on age) about his future? Whether it be from an introspective place, him talking fondly about his future family, etc — all you boo👍 Hope youre doing well!
Hey there! Thanks, I'm doing well and hope you are too!
Strictly speaking on story/fic requests, I'm only doing full fic requests on my Patreon, but occasionally I'll be able to do a short imagine/HC when something strikes me. For example, you pose a really interesting question. I think the answer would depend on Soldier Boy/Ben's level of growth/character development.
Like, if we're talking about Break Me Down version of Ben, for example, I've actually thought about this a bit before! If he had the opportunity to talk to his younger self, let's say in the 80s (shortly before Nicaragua):
What (BMD) Soldier Boy/Ben Would Say to His Younger Self
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"You just think you've got it all figured out, don't you?" Ben says, crossing his arms at his younger counterpart.
"What? I'm at the top of my game?" Soldier Boy says. He smokes a joint, blowing up smoke casually and arrogantly.
Ben chuckles. "That's what you think."
Soldier Boy frowns. "The whole fucking world worships me. Whatever I want, I get. Women, picture deals, a fucking statue in front of Vought tower-- Hell, I've got hit after hit record on the top of the charts, for fuck's sake."
Ben just shakes his head. His rueful smile irks the other guy, but not as much as what he says next.
"And you're bored," Ben says. "You've got it all... But nothing's ever good enough, right?"
Soldier Boy's lips purse, but he doesn't have an answer. Not one he's willing to voice. Ben nods in understanding.
"It's all right. One day you'll find it," he says.
Soldier Boy frowns, his brows furrowing. "What do you mean, find it?"
Ben doesn't want to give away the punchline. This guy hasn't earned it yet. Not the way Ben knows he'll need to. Otherwise, he'll never understand what it all meant. What all those years struggling alone in the dark, and what betrayal, loneliness, and pain were worth.
No, he won't give it all away. But he'll give him this, at least.
"It's the simplest thing in the world," Ben says. "You're gonna meet a woman."
Granted, the way he met you was anything but simple. The way Ben sees it now, though, it is simple.
Soldier Boy's frown fades, his face turning wry. "A woman, huh? Think I've got plenty of those. Any time, any place, any way I want."
"Not this one," Ben says. He can't help a small, reserved smile when he thinks of you. "Matter of fact, she's going to test your last ever-fucking nerve, every day of your life...but you're not gonna be the same."
Ben thinks about the life he's built with you. He thinks about his daughter, Lila, and his son on the way. Ben pictures the house in his mind--Christmases, birthdays, wedding anniversaries, along with missions gone awry, and the fights and arguments that reverberated on those walls. Moments where his temper got the best of him, or your stubbornness made you dig your heels in. All of it is worth it.
"Then one day, you're going to wake up and realize that you've got everything you need," Ben says.
Soldier Boy seems to take that in. He's still skeptical, but maybe secretly interested in the bright future lying in wait behind his older self's eyes, even though he doesn't want to show it.
"Yeah? And then what?" Soldier Boy asks, in a tone that scoffs, but Ben sees that he's serious too, and he's listening. He knows it as well as he knows himself.
Ben levels a pointed finger at him.
"All you need to do, is protect it."
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AN: It's like the old Spiderman meme where he's pointing at himself. lol 💚
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Break Me Down Masterlist
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BMD Tag List:
(I've paired this down from the old list that seemed to have a lot of people/blogs that are no longer active.)
@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26
@nancymcl @emily-winchester @sl33pylilbunny @chernayawidow @spnfamily-j2
@lacilou @mimaria420 @yvonneeeee @my-stories-vault @iprobablyshipit91
@jacklesbrainworms @adoringanakin @deanwanddamons @globetrotter28 @mrsjenniferwinchester
@deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70
@rizlowwritessortof @chevroletdean @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303
@123passwort @lyarr24 @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas
@jessjad @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2 @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67
@deansbbyx @midnightmadwoman @ladysparkles78 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @tmb510
@sarahgracej @foxyjwls007 @just-levyy @roseblue373 @charmed-asylum
@mrlonelycat @kmc1989 @siampie @kaleldobrev @pieandmonsters
@alwaystiredandconfused @mostlymarvelgirl @twinkleinadiamondsky @winchestergirl2 @a-lil-pr1ncess
@winchester-whiskey @spnbabe67 @cheynovak @megara0224 @yoongi-holland
@illicithallways @perpetualabsurdity @deansimpala @impala-dreamer @k4marina
@atenea585 @kayleighwinchester @samslvrgirl @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @star-yawnznn
@number1whorehome @g0ldfishd00dles @10ava01 @sixxteenbullets @tayl0rfanatic
@everything-is-all-clear @suckitands33 @cookiechipdough @trashmoutth @riteofpassage77
@jc-winchester @mxltifxnd0m @bleuatlas
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elryuse · 1 day ago
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Hi, I really like your stuff! Could you try to write a wholesome yandere? It will be kind of a challenge for you considering how dark your stories get but the I think you'll do well.
KILLING ME SOFTLY
YANDERE WINTER X MALE READER
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Winter, the radiant star of the K-pop group, was a woman of contradictions. On stage, she was a dazzling performer, captivating audiences with her powerful vocals and mesmerizing dance moves. Off stage, however, she was a creature of shadows, a woman consumed by a dark and obsessive love.
Her obsession was Y/N, her manager, a man of quiet strength and unwavering loyalty. He was her anchor, her guiding star, the one who brought light into her often chaotic world. But Winter's love for him was not a simple affection. It was a possessive, all-consuming obsession, a dark force that threatened to consume her entirely.
Whenever a female idol or staff member dared to approach Y/N, Winter's jealousy would flare up, a fiery inferno that threatened to consume everything in its path. Her eyes would narrow, her lips would curl into a sinister smile, and a chill would run down the spine of anyone who dared to cross her path.
Y/N, though aware of Winter's obsessive nature, was not deterred. He understood the depths of her love, the darkness that fueled her passion. He knew that beneath the facade of the fierce idol was a vulnerable woman, a woman who craved love and acceptance.
"Winter," he would say, his voice gentle, "you don't have to be afraid."
She would look at him, her eyes filled with a mix of love and fear. "I'm not afraid," she would insist, her voice trembling. "I just... I care about you."
Y/N would smile, a knowing smile. "I know, Winter. I know."
Despite her possessive nature, Winter was a talented and dedicated artist. She poured her heart and soul into her music, her performances, and her craft. She was a perfectionist, demanding the best of herself and those around her.
One day, a new female idol, a rising star named Luna, joined their agency. She was young, beautiful, and talented, and she immediately caught Y/N's attention. Winter, sensing a threat, grew increasingly jealous. She watched Luna's every move, her every interaction with Y/N.
One evening, at a company dinner, Winter confronted Luna. "Stay away from him," she warned, her voice low and menacing.
Luna, taken aback by Winter's aggression, apologized and retreated. But Winter was not satisfied. She knew that she had to do more to protect her claim on Y/N.
She began to sabotage Luna's career, spreading rumors, sabotaging her performances, and undermining her confidence. Luna, once a rising star, began to fade, her light dimmed by Winter's dark shadow.
Y/N, aware of Winter's actions, was troubled. He knew that she was hurting herself, hurting others, in the name of love. He tried to reason with her, to calm her down, but she was beyond reason.
"You don't understand," she would say, her eyes filled with a desperate intensity. "I can't lose you."
Y/N sighed. "I'll always be here for you, Winter. But you have to let go. You have to let others be happy."
Winter, however, was unwilling to compromise. She was a woman possessed, a creature of darkness. And she would do anything to keep Y/N by her side, even if it meant destroying everything around her.
Y/N, despite his love for Winter, was aware of the destructive path she was treading. He knew that her obsession, if unchecked, could lead to disaster. He had to find a way to help her, to guide her back to the light.
He began to spend more time with her, trying to distract her from her obsessive thoughts. He would take her on walks, watch movies with her, and talk to her about her dreams and aspirations. He encouraged her to focus on her music, on her art, on the things that brought her joy.
At first, Winter was resistant. She wanted Y/N to herself, and she didn't want anything to distract him from her. But as time passed, she began to see the wisdom in his words. She realized that her obsession was not only hurting herself but also those around her.
She started to practice self-control, to manage her emotions. She began to see the world through a different lens, a lens of compassion and understanding. She learned to appreciate the beauty of life, the joy of human connection.
Y/N was proud of her progress. He had helped her to see the light, to break free from the darkness that had consumed her. Their relationship deepened, their bond strengthened by their shared experiences.
One day, as they were walking through the park, Winter turned to Y/N and said, "Thank you."
"For what?" Y/N asked, puzzled.
"For everything," she replied. "For loving me, for understanding me, for helping me to be a better person."
Y/N smiled. "You're welcome, Winter. I love you."
Their love story was a testament to the power of love and understanding. It was a story of redemption, of hope, of a love that could conquer all.
The soft hum of the café filled the air as Winter and Y/N sat across from each other, their hands intertwined. The warmth of the afternoon sun seeped through the window, casting a golden glow on their faces. It was a simple, quiet moment, a moment of peace and contentment.
Winter, once a tempestuous force of nature, now exuded a serene calmness. The darkness that had once consumed her had been replaced by a gentle light. She had learned to love herself, to love others, and to appreciate the beauty of life.
"Remember when I used to be so obsessed with you?" she asked, a soft smile playing on her lips.
Y/N chuckled. "I remember. It was quite a ride."
"I'm so glad you stuck with me," she said, her voice filled with gratitude. "You helped me to see the light."
Y/N squeezed her hand. "I'm glad I did. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."
As they walked hand-in-hand through the park, the setting sun cast long shadows across the path. They talked about their dreams, their hopes, their future. They talked about the life they would build together, a life filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities.
As they stood beneath the twilight sky, Y/N turned to Winter and kissed her forehead. "I love you," he whispered.
Winter smiled, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I love you too," she replied.
And as they walked away, hand in hand, they knew that their love story was just beginning.
- To Be Continued -
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dissapointu · 21 hours ago
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Arcane characters throwing a birthday party for the reader who has a bad memory and forgot his own birthday 😝
((my memory is rubbish, I can forget things I'm going to say/do In the same second , casual conversations, details and commitments 😔 planners are my best friends)
Happy birthday again 🥳
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BABE. FIRST OF ALL.your faves would 1000000% throw you the most extra, heartfelt birthday party of all time because you deserve to feel loved and celebrated—memory or not.
So here’s how they’d handle it when you’re out here vibing, completely forgetting it’s your special day, and they’re like “Oh no, not on my watch.”
————————————————————————-
Jinx
Jinx is giving CHAOTIC ENERGY for this party. She’s not even subtle about it.
• You’d probably walk in and see her messing with some dangerous contraption, and she’d be like, “SURPRISE! You forgot your birthday, but I didn’t!”
• The party is WILD—explosions (small ones, probably), neon lights, spray-painted “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” signs, and cupcakes she may or may not have dropped at least once.
• She’s dragging you into every game and activity, yelling stuff like, “You don’t get to forget your own birthday, dummy! That’s what I’m here for!”
• By the end of the night, she’s probably passed out on the couch, holding a balloon, mumbling about how you’re “the best ever.”
Vi
Vi’s the type to keep it lowkey cool but still make it super special.
• She’d notice you forgot your own birthday and go, “Really? Guess I gotta take matters into my own hands.”
• She’d gather all your favorite people, decorate with some string lights and snacks, and surprise you like, “Told you I’d always have your back, didn’t I?”
• She’s keeping an eye on you all night, making sure you’re actually enjoying yourself and not overthinking anything.
• Before the night’s over, she’s pulling you aside for a quiet moment like, “Next time you forget your birthday, I’m just gonna tattoo it on your forehead.”
Sevika
Sevika pretends she doesn’t care, but she’s planning this whole thing in SECRET.
• She’s got a killer poker face, so when you’re like, “Wait, is today my birthday?” she’s just smirking like, “Guess you’ll find out.”
• The party is simple but PERFECT—her version of “lowkey” is making sure everything you love is there: your favorite food, drinks, and music.
• She acts all casual about it during the party, but at some point, she hands you a gift and says, “Don’t forget who made this happen.”
Silco
Silco would be so extra but act like it’s no big deal.
• He notices you forgot your birthday and immediately starts plotting. He’s like, “How does one forget their own existence? I’ll have to fix this.”
• The party is elegant AF—dim lighting, fancy food, and everything planned down to the smallest detail.
• He’s not a big “party” guy, but he’d be there in the corner, sipping his drink, watching you enjoy yourself, and thinking, “Yes, this is satisfactory.”
• At the end of the night, he’d come over and say something soft like, “Don’t forget your worth. I won’t.”
Vander
Vander would be the dad friend who makes your birthday feel like home.
• He’d figure out you forgot and immediately start pulling everyone together to plan something. He’s like, “We can’t let them go another year without feeling special.”
• The party would be warm and cozy—lots of laughter, good food, and a cake he baked himself (even if it’s a little lopsided).
• He’d give you a big hug at some point and say, “You’ve got a lot of people who care about you, even if you forget sometimes.”
• It’s the kind of party that leaves you feeling like you belong.
Ekko
Ekko would turn your forgotten birthday into an unforgettable NIGHT.
• He’d act all chill about it but secretly plan the coolest party ever. Firelight lanterns? Check. Music and dancing? Check. The BEST vibes? Double check.
• When you’re like, “Wait, is this for my birthday?” he’d laugh and say, “Yeah, you kinda forgot, but don’t worry—I didn’t.”
• He’d spend the whole night hyping you up, making sure you know how important you are to him and everyone else.
• By the end of the night, he’s handing you a handmade gift like, “Something to help you remember next time.”
Jayce
Jayce is going ALL OUT. No chill whatsoever.
• He’d throw a huge surprise party, complete with decorations, balloons, and probably a cake with your face on it. “You forgot your birthday? Not on my watch!”
• He’d spend the entire night making sure you’re having fun, constantly checking in like, “You good? Need anything?”
• He’d make a toast at some point, hyping you up in front of everyone. “To the best person I know. Happy birthday, even if you forgot it!”
• You’d leave feeling like the most important person in the world.
Viktor
Viktor would make your birthday feel quietly magical.
• He’d notice you forgot and gently remind you by planning a thoughtful little surprise. “I didn’t forget, so you don’t have to.”
• The party would be small and intimate, with everything tailored to your preferences. Soft lighting, good conversation, and maybe even a little tinkering if you’re into it.
• He’d give you a heartfelt gift, saying something like, “I know your memory gets the best of you, but you’re unforgettable to me.”
Caitlyn
Caitlyn would be the QUEEN of thoughtful birthday surprises.
• She’d find out you forgot your birthday and immediately start planning something sweet and meaningful.
• The party would be elegant but not over-the-top—just enough to make you feel special. She’d definitely include all your favorite things.
• At some point, she’d pull you aside and say, “You might forget your birthday, but I’ll always remember. You’re worth celebrating.”
Mel Medarda
Mel would throw the most glamorous birthday party you’ve ever seen.
• She’d notice you forgot and smile to herself like, “Looks like I’ll have to step in.”
• The party would be GORGEOUS—fancy decor, delicious food, and a vibe that screams “luxury.”
• She’d take a moment to toast to you, saying something poetic like, “To the person who deserves more than they remember to ask for.”
Ambessa Medarda
Ambessa would be direct but thoughtful.
• When she realizes you forgot your birthday, she’d be like, “How do you forget something like that? Never mind—I’ve got it handled.”
• The party would be practical but deeply meaningful—everything chosen with care to make sure you feel appreciated.
• She’d tell you at the end, “Don’t let yourself forget how much you mean to the people around you. We won’t let you.”
Heimerdinger
Heimerdinger would LOVE throwing you a surprise birthday party.
• He’d go all out with quirky decorations, fun activities, and maybe even a little invention to commemorate the day.
• “Ah, you forgot your birthday? No worries—I remembered for you!”
• The whole night would be filled with laughter and warmth, and he’d make sure you know just how much you’re appreciated.
Salo
Salo would be quiet but so sincere.
• He’d notice you forgot your birthday and take it upon himself to plan a small but meaningful celebration.
• The party would be simple but full of heart—just the right mix of people, good food, and a little reminder of how much you’re loved.
Scar
Scar would be CHAOTICALLY AMAZING.
• He’d be the one yelling, “YOU FORGOT YOUR BIRTHDAY? HOW???” while running around setting up decorations.
• The party would be loud, fun, and full of energy. He’d make sure you’re smiling the entire time, yelling stuff like, “This is YOUR day! Own it!”
Maddie Nolen
Maddie would be super sweet and thoughtful.
• She’d notice you forgot your birthday and plan something small but so full of love.
• She’d quietly make sure you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself, saying, “You might forget things sometimes, but I’ll never forget how special you are.”
Lest
Lest would be so kind and gentle about it.
• She’d realize you forgot and immediately start planning a little surprise to make you smile.
• The party would feel magical, like a fairytale, with every detail chosen just for you.
• She’d tell you at some point, “Even if your memory fails you, you have me to remind you.”
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butlervibesonly · 2 days ago
Text
𝑆𝑎𝑓𝑒 𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 || Austin Butler
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• Summary : Y/n is having terrible day, feeling so tired and overwhelmed lately. Until she completely loses it, but Austin gets home and everything feels safe all of sudden.
• Pairing: Austin Butler x actress! reader
• Warnings !! : angst, mentions of panic attack, crying, trembling, swearing,...
• Note : Hope y'all doing well! I thought I could write this, because we all sometimes deserve a good cry and, well, please don't tell me that I'm the only one who feels so overwhelmed lately 😭
Day by day felt same for you. All the work, meetings every day, unfinished projects... It's like a circle going around. And it's enough for you. You're sitting in living room of yours and Austin's house, your laptop lay in your lap as one notification after another flashes across your screen. Meeting tomorrow 6:00 pm, video call with producer of your next movie 11:00 am, interview at 3:00 pm.
The living room was quiet, except for the fast clicking of your keyboard as you write response to an email. The weight of the week pressed heavily on your chest, making even the simple act of sitting still feel exhausting.
Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, interrupting you. It was your manager calling you. All of sudden you remember that the couch is not the place where you should be right now. “No, no, no,” you whispered, scrambling off the couch. "Y/n! Where are you, were supposed to be at a meeting right now!" she says, sounding furious. "Shit, I uh... Sorry, I completely forgot. Will I still be able to make it on time?"
"If you'll manage to get yourself here in like 5 minutes?" You hang up the call, not even bothering to answer her. Anxiety clawed at your chest as you tried to gather your things. In your rush, you tripp over the table's leg, knocking over the glass of water you’d been drinking earlier. It fell down with a loud crash, spilling the water all over the wooden floor.
"Fuck!" you hissed, staring at the mess. The tears fill your eyes, feeling a combination of the frustration and exhaustion you’d been bottling up. Your chest tightened, your breathing quickened, and suddenly it felt like the walls were closing in on you.
You can't move, not even think. All you're capable of is sitting down on the floor, leaning against the couch. You hide your face into your hands, sobbing loudly. You didn't think that it would be so much on you and certainly not that it would ruin you like this.
No longer after, you hear the door to the house being open. Austin's home. And you're here like this. This is what he comes home to. What a shame — Austin deserves to arrive to a tidy house where everything is as it should be while you sit here like this.
“Hey, I’m home,” his familiar voice filled the space, calm and grounding. The moment he saw you, he stopped mid-sentence, his expression shifting to concern. "Sweetie, what’s going on?” You, don't replying, makes him cross the room quickly, kneeling beside you. His hands wraps you tightly. Austin actually notices the broken glass, which leads him to check if you have any cut.
"Hey, hey — Y/n, baby, what's the matter?" His voice was steady, soothing, and you clung to it like a lifeline. When he notices the laptop with tons of notes and unread emails, he gets it. He inhales slowly. “Doll, breathe okay? I'm here and I won't let you go." You nod, burying your head in his chest.
Austin holds you for a while, making you to steady your breathing. "That’s it. I’m here,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. Whatever happened, we’ll figure it out," he says, his hand careful patting circles on your back.
You started to feel better, although, the tears didn’t stop. He pulls you into his arms more firmly, wrapping you in a hug so warm and secure it almost feels like there is nothing but him.
“It’s too much,” you choke out, mumbling against his chest. “I can’t do this anymore.” Austin and you talked about how overwhelmed you're feeling, but he didn't know it's this intensive.
“You don’t have to do it all at once, ya know,” he brush his fingers through your hair. "Why don't you ask me for a help? You know I'm here for you," you look up at him, your eyes red and swollen from all the crying.
"You've got a lot of your own and I don't want to bother you, Aus," you sob out. Austin smiles softly, cupping your cheek. "Baby, you never bother me, I'm here for you no matter what, okay?" he says. You nod, pulling closer to him again.
He stayed with you like this for few more minutes, holding you close, until your breathing steadied completely. And when you finally lifted your head, not crying anymore, his warm, understanding smile was waiting for you. “Why don’t we clean this up together? Then we’ll figure out the rest. Aight?” he kisses your forehead. "Mhm," you agree, grabbing his hand.
Austin wipes away tears from your cheeks, kissing you again, and helps you to your feet, steadying you against him. In his arms, the chaos of the week seemed just a little less overwhelming. In his arms, you feel safe, loved and cared about. And it's perfect.
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Note
Ok I have a request that’s been brewing in my brain, what if Daryl and reader were out on a run and reader finds a mixtape in the car and plays it, and one of the songs is Creep by Radiohead and she starts singing along and he’s never heard her sing before and he’s like totally enamored by it. But when he starts to listen to the lyrics it maybe hits too close to home and he starts to get insecure and think he’s not good enough for her and he’s kinda standoffish for a bit and when he finally tells her what’s wrong she shows him how much he means to her and how special he is to her AHHHH
Ps ur writing is amazing I love it sm 🫶🫶
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Creep
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)
TW: Anxious!Daryl. Alexandria Era. Allusions to sex.
A/N: I cannot tell you how much I LOVE this request, thank you Anon! I'm sorry its taken me a while I have been ill as hell, but I'm hoping to get a few bits uploaded today when my heating kicks in and my fingers start moving again!
-
The dashboard is dusty. The kind of dust that seeps up your nose and makes you smell damp. The car is cramped and the road is bumpy as all hell, but he’s content, almost peaceful as she smiles over at him. He quirks a corner of his mouth upwards in response, knowing he’ll get lost in her smile if he lets himself, and the last thing he wants to do is crash the car when its so full of wares.
It’s not new, not really, their….relationship. It’s the culmination of the electricity that’s been thrumming underneath the surface for a while. So it’s not new, not really, but it is tentative. Everything with Daryl is tentative except killing walkers and hunting; there’s a sick sense of irony that it took the world ending for him to be confident in something. He’s not confident when it comes to her, even now. Even now she’s sitting there holding his hand as he drives back to Alexandria. He could have initiated the hand holding, probably, maybe, she’d like that, but the fear that he’s going to be rejected for trying is always overwhelming.
This run was simple, thank god, neither of them are bruised and battered though Daryl did smack the side of his head rather painfully against a door trying to block a walker. They’re taking three boxes of canned goods, some jumpers for the colder weather and a large handful or seven of treats back to Alexandria. He feels good. Better than he has in a long time; he can almost forget that his shoulder hurts every morning and his brother is dead and the dead are, you know, eating people.
He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, fighting the quirk of his lip that tries to sneak up on him again and failing miserably. She clocks it anyway, picking his hand up to her lips to press a kiss to it before dropping it out of reach in a way that’s so very her. She’s careful with him, never overstepping the boundaries she guesses he has because he hasn’t actually told her, but she offers affection like most people offer hellos. She never pulls away without reassurance.
“Can I see what’s on this?” her voice breaks him out of his thoughts, holding up a crappy mix-tape she’d found atop one of the boxes. She doesn’t even know if it will work, but she’s trying to be appreciative of the small mercies that come with this impossible life and by a stroke of luck they’re driving a car old enough to still have a damn tape slot. She doesn’t expect words to accompany his nod.
And suddenly she’s blaring out the words to a song he vaguely remembers from before, dancing in her seat whilst she lowers her voice for comic effect.
She can sing, he knows she can so she’s doing this for his benefit, to make him laugh. He’s heard her voice in the shower, echoing through their new home, melodic and soft and beautiful. His whole body is warm, bursting at the seams with affection, with the knowledge that she thinks of him even in the tiny moments; that even when she’s doing something she’ll enjoy she’s still trying to entertain him.
But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here
Maybe it’s the words that set his brain off. Maybe its that the dust reminds him of a home that had never been a home. He thinks back to all the times he’s watched her from a distance, the times he was too afraid to talk to her but wanted to keep her safe, following her from behind like a fucking stalker. He flinches as the memories of the kids in the playground flood him, the ones who’d called him weird and creepy, the voice of his father saying nobody would ever love him, the southern twang of his brother saying the same, ‘nobody is ever gonna love ya except me, baby brother’. But she does, doesn’t she? Or at least something close, she’d made that clear.
But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here
Hadn’t she made that clear? Hadn’t she kissed him of her own volition? Had he stayed too close until she had no other choice? Had he made his feelings too obvious? Had he been weird and creepy? Had he forced his affection on her until she’d just given in? Maybe people in his previous life had been right about him.
He pulls through the gates on autopilot, doesn’t even remember who was on guard duty but someone had to have let them in. He unloads the car, mind simultaneously numb and in overdrive, hands the boxes to…someone and slams the door shut hard enough he makes himself flinch.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Her soft voice barely registers through the muddled thoughts, she sounds far away and out of reach.
“Nothin’”
He shakes off the warm fingers against his arm, turns to trudge back to their shared house, ignoring the way her footsteps follow in time with his, trying to ignore that he knows she’s got shorter legs than he does and he knows she’s trying to catch up.
“You’re a terrible liar”
“I ain’t”
“Daryl-“
“I can’t do this” he pauses, doesn’t dare to look her in the eye as he scuffs his toe against the asphalt. He hasn’t thought far enough ahead to realise she has to follow him home as she lives there, he just needs to flee “Us” he clarifies as if she hadn’t worked it out already.
“You were fine five minutes ago, I don’t-”
“I ain’t good at this shit. I dun’ want it” he lies through his teeth.  He’s never wanted anything more in his life.
Her footsteps don’t resume as his do, and he takes her not following as acceptance, as proof his brain is right, as confirmation she never wanted him in the first place. Kicking off his boots as he seeks sanctuary inside their home he leaves the front door open for her. He’s never been inconsiderate on purpose.
Body freezing momentarily when he finally hears the front door click shut, he breaths a small sigh of relief that she’s home before guilt gnaws at him. Chewing his fingernails, he half expects her to come to his room, but he hears her upstairs closing the door to hers before the boiler kicks in to tell him she’s taking a shower. His head throbs at him, but the painkillers are in the bathroom upstairs and he avoids taking them unless he really has to.
It’s a testament to how fucking awkward he is that he hides in his basement bedroom until the sun has set, as if he hasn’t wanted a cigarette for the past two hours. Carol won’t let him smoke in the house, a rule implemented months ago, before she’d left for her own smaller house. He’s yet to break it out of respect and if he’s honest, fear. If anyone could sense something wrong from buildings away it would be Carol, and he doesn’t trust his partner housemate not to tell Carol just for a laugh. Daryl both loves and hates how close the two women are, by which he means that it’s lovely until he is the target of their anger or humour and then it is significantly less so.
“Thought you might want some company” her voice startles him out of his thoughts as she sits gracefully next to him on the front step of the porch.
“Don’t need ya pity”
“Good, ‘cause I’m not pitying you” She tries to keep the anger out of her tone. She doesn’t know what’s going on but if she’s confident about one thing its that Daryl wants her and she’s not about to let him sabotage his own happiness by being hard on himself “How’s the head?”
“Sore”
She shakes the small bottle of aspirin at him, pulled from the pocket of her pyjama pants.
“Take a painkiller”
“Better spent on someone else”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Mo’ important people ‘ere than me, I ain’t ever been worth nothin’”
“Daryl-“
“Nah, I ain’t, I weren’t worth shit before, didn’t even have a fuckin’ job, ain’t worth shit now”
“Don’t do that, don’t act like you’re not important, just fucking don’t”
There’s such fierce disappointment under the ire in her tone that it stops him for a beat. He raises his gaze from the smooth wooden steps to look at her face, takes her in properly since he’d walked off earlier in the day. He catches the worry in her eyes, the wobble in her bottom lip she’s trying to bite away, chewing nervously.
“Why? I dun’ deserve ya, dun’ deserve any of this” voice cracking, splintering at the edges around the emotions he’s so used to burying. He can’t bury them when she’s looking at him like this.
“I’d die for you and you don’t even think you matter” she laughs sadly, but its wet, squishy, it doesn’t sit right on her face through the water that’s leaving her eyes. He wonders if she’s aware of the magnitude of what she just said, but she isn’t done, doesn’t show a sign that he can interrupt to point it out “What did I do wrong? How have I failed to show you that? I don’t understand”
Daryl has spent his whole life thinking he is in the way, that he’s a burden no matter how much he tries to prove his worth. He’s never been anyone’s first choice, but here she is crying at the thought of losing him, taking his ridiculous issues as a way she’s failed and he can’t have it, he just can’t. He reaches over, linking his fingers with hers, looking down to watch the way her thumb rubs over his fingers.
“Did I push this on ya?”
“Daryl no”
“What if I didn’t give ya a choice?”
“Daryl, look at me” she waits patiently until he turns his head to her “I chose this, I chose you” she keeps her hand in his as she eases up off the porch steps, tugging his hand until he complies, stubbing out his cigarette on the way up “Come inside”
She looks the door behind them, dims the lights before letting her hand drop and standing facing him in the middle of the room. He stands stock still, lost and confused as she strips her clothes off, purposeful but not rushed. He feels the heat that floods his cheeks.
Finally, when she’s completely naked she locks her eyes on his
“This scar, the one on my side? When I was seven I fell out of a tree, had a stick go right through, it was gross. This one on my shoulder? Argued back once with the wrong man, put me through a door. This one? See it? Put my arm through a window three sheets to the wind on bad tequila, think I wanted to end it all”
He swallows hard, never having had the stories behind the scars he’s seen. They’ve been intimate, a handful of times since this thing started, but she’s hidden almost as much as he has so this bravery is new. Astonishing.
“Do you see me, Daryl?”
“Yea-“ the crackle in his own voice cuts him off.
“Look at me and tell me I don’t look like I have a choice right now. Tell me you made me do this”
“I can’t”
He doesn’t realise he’s stopped closer until her fingers are toying with the collar of his button down.
“Please take it off”
He wants to protest, shifting on his feet in discomfort but the look on her face is so fucking soft, so open and vulnerable as she stands bare in front of him and he tries to keep his eyes on her face. He’d never deny her anything, so he undoes the buttons with shaking fingers. Hers follow, easing the shirt off his shoulders.
He shudders as she traces her fingers over the scars that litter his torso, reaching forward to place his hands around her waist, grounding and solid. Her skin is warm under his touch.
“I wish you could see yourself how I do”
“What d’ya see?” He whispers, kneading the flesh under his palms absentmindedly. He’ll deny himself the pleasure of his base urges as he’s done throughout the years, but even he’s not strong enough not to trail his hands up and down her skin, knuckles grazing the underside of her breasts with each upward stroke.
“Strong, kind, decent. You’re beautiful, Daryl Dixon”
He sucks in a sharp breath as she continues.
“Blue eyes, the way they look at me" she didn't need to look up to his gaze to know it was there, but she does anyway, sees the admiration, the pleading that's always behind his eyes "Look at your hands on me” she lays her hands over his, marvels at how much space they take up on her ribcage “Big, warm hands, safest hands I’ve ever known”
He clenches his eyes shut, shaking his head in disagreement, opening them again when he feels her palm against the stubble on his cheek.
“They’re safe, Daryl, I don’t know what’s happening in here right now” she taps his forehead with a finger “But I see you. Let me love you”
“Ya love me?”
“Yes” makes sure she looks at him when she says it, simply and firmly, no room for argument “Eyes wide open, knowing who you are, knowing what you’ve done, seeing you. Yes. I love you. Let me show you”
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vladdyissues · 2 days ago
Note
Lately Ive seen some awful things about antis and haters making threats and getting artists banned from Tumblr and X. Im new to the Phandom and love pompep but Im scared i'll be targeted if I write and share pompep fics. How do you manage sharing your work so bravely?
Firstly, welcome to the Phandom—and especially Pompous Pep! I have a simple protocol for enjoying a drama-free Tumblr experience:
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Preventative Action
1. Find your community. Follow other Pompep fans and supporters and reblog their things. Don't be afraid to leave nice tags; we love and welcome interactions :) You can also join the Pompep Discord server if you enjoy chatting (DM me for details).
2. Turn off anon asks. This will solve 99% of all potential problems, and you can turn it back on whenever you want. Antis are cowards who prefer to hide behind the mask of anonymity. They seldom have the courage to say something with their whole username.
3. Block the obvious haters. This is a big fandom, and at some point you're likely to come across people openly hating on pompep, either on their bio, pinned posts, or comments. Block them. For an added layer of protection, add their username to your Filtering Options.
4. Tag your work appropriately. When posting, make sure your work is tagged correctly (the #pompous pep tag is especially important) so people who like pompep can find it and those who want to avoid it can block the tag. Use Content Labels when applicable.
5. Try to avoid using the platonic tag (#badger cereal) and the romantic tag (#pompous pep) at the same time. Some fans are really touchy about this. I'm not, and I think there are legitimate cases where use of both is applicable, but if you want to minimize friction, just stick with one tag or the other.
If you're not sure which tag to use, ask yourself what your intentions are with your art or fic. Is the goal a romantic relationship? If so, use the pompep tag. If it's truly ambiguous and could be seen either way, use the platonic tag first. You can always add another tag like "okay to tag as pompep", just to let people know they can interpret it however they please.
Responsive Action
If the above guidelines aren't 100% effective, here's what you do:
1. Don't feed the trolls. If you receive any negative asks in your inbox, it's important to NOT engage with them. Delete them, ignore them, don't let them get to you. Antis thrive on attention, so let them starve. Eventually they'll move on when they realize they're not going to get a rise out of you.
The same goes for any negative comment left on your work. Just delete it, block the person who left it, and pretend it never happened.
These asks and comments may come in the form of questions. Example: "How can you ship Danny with Vlad? That's [insert gross accusation here]" Resist the urge to answer these questions. They are not made in good faith. This person just wants to start an argument.
2. Report any harassment. If by some chance you receive a seriously hateful ask, like threats of violence or abuse, take a screenshot for proof/safekeeping, then report the message and the user if they're not anonymous. If the ask is anonymous, use the meatball menu (•••) at the top right to report the message and block the anon.
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Final Words
It takes time to develop a thick skin and Don't Give A Fuck attitude, but it can be done. You are a phan. You have every right to be here and enjoy this fandom in peace, just like everyone else. Anyone who believes in harassing others over silly things like which cartoon characters should be allowed to kiss clearly has nothing better to do with their life. The sooner you shut them out, the happier you'll be.
Regarding media: Artists attract a lot more negative attention than writers for reasons I won't get into right now, but if you're mainly a writer, you will enjoy a much quieter fandom experience. Wherever you post your stories—I recommend AO3; DM me if you need an invite—follow the same advice there as I've given here: make sure your work is tagged correctly; support your fellow Pompep fans by reading and commenting on their works, building that community; moderate comments if you're concerned about negativity; block and mute users if they give you any trouble, and you'll enjoy a much more positive fandom experience.
There is strength in community. When you start making new fandom friends, you'll feel a lot less lonely, and that will give you the confidence you need to really have a good time here.
Wishing you the best, anon!
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woodenplank-gt · 3 days ago
Text
Revelations
Progress is being made!!!
First: A Not So Average Night
Previous: Witness To A Crime
Next: Coming soon!
————-
Neither Shawn or Gus could describe how exciting it was to finally hear that tiny voice. It was like finding a room full of chocolate just for them to enjoy. Their hard work over the past hour getting the little guy to trust them has finally paid off. The three might even become friends after this.
"I'll tell you what'cha wanna know as long as you don't hurt my people." The tiny voice wavered as he spoke barely above a whisper. He had an interesting accent, although neither human could place it.
Shawn was shaking with excitement at the mention of even more tiny people running around. There must be a whole secret society! On the other hand, Gus was not as thrilled when he realized there could have been little eyes watching his every movement for who knows how long. Although a smile still played at his lips by the simple fact the little guy was getting more comfortable with them.
However, their smiles slowly faded as the words finally registered in their brains. How scared the little guy sounded. It was one of the last things the two men expected after all the progress they had made. What did they do to get that sort of response? Why is he still scared?
Shawn chuckled nervously, "What are you talking about?"
Gus' expression-filled eyes were full of concern, "Yeah, why do you think we'll hurt your people?"
Tucker dropped the chip on the desk, all but forgotten as he stared at his giant tormentors. His gaze hardened behind his tears. "You've been trying to manipulate me into telling you everything this entire time!" He snapped, the overwhelming mix of fear, anger, frustration, and sadness boiling over the edge.
He took a step forward, "And the psychic has been reading my mind 'cause I refuse to comply!" Tucker pointed an accusatory finger at Shawn, who stared at the minuscule finger with wide eyes.
The human's mouth gaped open for a moment, speechless. Shawn was prepared for a lot of things in life thanks to his overbearing dad, but getting yelled at by a man smaller than a finger was not one of them. He glanced toward his friend for any sort of advice, but Gus only gave him an equally shocked expression in return.
Shawn held up his hands, "Uh-listen, I swear I don't read minds. I'm not one of those types of psychics."
Tucker crossed his arms and quirked a brow. "Really? Then how'd ya know where I was hiding and when I was hungry and that I'm from the walls?" He challenged. His fear of being punished by humans was long gone.
"The spir-" Shawn began before getting hit in the shoulder. "Ow!" He glared at Gus as he rubbed his shoulder, "What was that for?"
"You are not giving him the whole 'psychic revelation'." Gus stated with no room to argue.
Of course, Shawn still tried to argue. "But I am a psychic. The spirits tell me everything from the beyond." He gave Gus a look, begging him to go along with him.
His friend ignored him and turned back to Tucker who tensed up again. "He's not psychic. Shawn's a fraud." Gus said blatantly.
"Gus!"
"There's no point in lying to a four-inch tall man, Shawn!" Gus crossed his arms, "Who's he gonna tell? The Chief? Lassiter? Juliet? It's just scaring him even more!"
Tucker shifted uneasily as he watched Shawn facepalm with a frustrated sigh. When the humans said nothing else, he chose to pipe up. "What do you mean?" He asked Gus.
"He pretends he's a psychic that talks to spirits to solve murders. He's just good at noticing the little things and remembering them." He answered knowingly with a shrug. Gus glanced over at Shawn leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, attempting to block out his friend exposing his well-crafted lie.
Admittedly, Tucker still didn't understand. How in the world could Shawn figure out all that information if he didn't read minds? That's impossible. But there's no reason for Gus to lie about something like this.
He licked his dry lips, "Then how did he know all that stuff? Was it just luck?" Tucker tentatively asked.
As much as Gus wanted to answer, he had no idea how Shawn did it. Even after doing this whole Psych agency thing for months, and being friends with Shawn since they were babies, his friend's uncanny skill set still surprised him sometimes.
When Shawn didn't say a word, he lightly nudged him in the side. "Shawn. He asked a question." He said quietly.
Shawn solemnly nodded. "Back at the house, I noticed grease stains from the chips on the table that looked a lot like footprints. There were multiple trails leading to the bag and I figured something was in there. I was expecting a mouse though, not you." He explained simply.
He sighed and looked to the side as he continued, "there's specks of sawdust on your clothes, only way you can get that is from inside the walls. It makes sense as a safe place for you to live. And I guessed you were hungry 'cause you were hiding in a bag of food earlier." Shawn looked up at Tucker, appearing dejected, "Happy now?"
Tucker nervously glanced down at his boots, "Y-yeah. Sorry." He murmured sheepishly. He fidgeted with his sleeve as he started to shuffle away from the humans again. All of his foolish confidence was gone, replaced by a sinking feeling in his gut that he just made things far worse for himself.
Tucker wanted to slap himself across the face and scream. How could he interpret a situation so damn badly! Mind reading? Seriously?
"Hey, don't feel too bad." Tucker glanced at the human as Shawn spoke, startled how the human seemed to read his mind again. "Everybody falls for it, I'm just too good." A confident smirk played at his lips, and he gave the small man a knowing look.
"But now that all my secrets are out, I think you owe us your name." Shawn stated lightheartedly, quirking a brow.
Tucker blinked at that. It made sense, but he still didn't want to say his name. It felt wrong telling a human that information. But he's already been caught by them, spoke to them, and told them more of his kind existed. Yeah.... He's long past following the borrower code now.
Taking a steadying breath, he met the four giant eyes of the humans. "My name’s Tucker." He cringed as his voice cracked slightly. After living on his own for three years, he wasn't used to using his voice anymore. That and the added pressure of talking to two freaking humans.
"Tucker," Shawn repeated, seemingly testing the name out, "Sounds badass."
Gus nodded beside him, "Like a gangster." He added with a smirk. "Nice to finally meet you Tucker."
The borrower only managed to nod along. He was not expecting this turn of events whatsoever. Tucker honestly thought he would be dead or left in a cage by now. He awkwardly glanced back at the chip he abandoned and decided to finally satisfy his hunger.
He sat down with the chip on his lap and continued taking bites out of the salty food. Meanwhile, Shawn and Gus shuffled closer to the desk on their knees.
"Soooo Tucker," Shawn began nonchalantly, "What exactly are you?" He couldn't hide his eagerness as the question left his mouth. His wallet depended on this answer thanks to his earlier bet with Gus, although Gus would have to pay for lunch either way since Shawn had no money. Still, he wanted to be right. He crossed his fingers under the desk, please be a leprechaun, he thought to himself.
A shiver went down his spine, but Tucker did his best to hide it. He purposely took a long time chewing his food before responding. "Don't ya wanna know about the murder?" He asked, changing the subject. Even though these humans were better than he thought, he still didn't trust them enough to reveal his people's name.
Shawn's face dropped, "Oh... right. The case."
"I forgot about that." Gus admitted quietly. He was as eager as Shawn to figure out who won the bet. "You're not a leprechaun though, right?" He couldn't help but ask.
Tucker shook his head. He didn't even know what a leprechaun is.
"Ha! I told you!" Gus pumped his fist in celebration.
Shawn scoffed, "You haven't won. We don't know if he's a wingless fairy or whatever ridiculous thing you can up with."
At that, both humans looked expectantly at Tucker again. His shoulders bunched up as his eyes danced between the two. Slowly, he shook his head side to side.
Gus shrugged, pretending not to care. "It doesn't matter, you would have made me pay for lunch either way." He pointed out.
"I actually would have paid this time." Shawn corrected him.
"Sure you would."
A loud phone chime stopped Shawn from retorting. He dug through his back pocket before taking out his phone and checking the screen. His brows rose, "It's Jules."
With one last glance towards the borrower on the desk, he tapped the green button. "City morgue, you stab'em we slab'em." He quipped.
"Not now Shawn." She said curtly. "Carlton mentioned you were at the Blum residence this morning, right?”
“Looks like Lassie has his facts straight for once.” Shawn said sounding proud. He heard a loud sigh on the other end.
“I don’t know about that.” Juliet’s voice was now quiet and unsure, very different from her usual confidence.
“What do you mean?”
There was a beat of hesitation before she continued. “Carlton seems so sure it’s the husband and is trying to get answers from him as we speak. I just- I really don’t think it’s Steven.” Juliet admitted.
Shawn exchanged a quick glance with Gus who was leaning in to listen to the call. Tucker was also paying attention, but he seemed more interested in the phone itself rather than the conversation. It took everything in Shawn not to coo at the little guy. He was just so cute with his tiny eyes peeking curiously up at him like a tiny little kitten and- Shawn took a deep breath and forced himself to focus on the phone.
“Are you asking me what I think you’re asking?” He teased with a growing smile.
“I just want to know what you think.”
“Well pat yourself on the back Jules ‘cause im getting signals from the beyond it’s not Steven.”
“Who is it?” She eagerly pressed. Shawn figured she was already prepped to run out the precinct and arrest the real killer in record time. He loved watching her take the bad guys down. She somehow always looked so beautiful doing it. Unfortunately, he would have to see her arrest later.
“The spirits haven’t told me yet. They’re a lot shyer today.” He said sadly. “I’ll tell you right when I find out.” Shawn promised.
“Thanks Shawn.” Juliet said quickly before hanging up the phone.
Tucker felt a sense of unease as he listened to Shawn lie about talking to spirits. The human admitted he was a fraud, yet he didn’t show any signs of a liar like every other human. Not even a quiver in his voice or his eyes twitching left. Maybe it was because he was speaking to a box instead of a person. Either way, Tucker figured it was best not to anger the human if Shawn was capable of hiding his lies.
When the human pocketed the little box again, Tucker adverted his gaze back to the chip in his lap.
"What did the killer look like?" Shawn asked. Even though there were still so many questions whirling around his head about Tucker, he knew he had a job to do. A poor innocent man was being interrogated by Lassie and Shawn wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone. Well a few people did come to mind, but that was beside the point.
Tucker placed the rest of his chip to the side and brushed the salt and grease from his hands. He was about to answer, until he realized he was at the advantage for once. "I'd love to help, but my stuff is still over there." He pointed to the far end of the desk where his supplies lay.
Both humans glanced at his things, then at each other, then back at Tucker. Gus' eyes narrowed, "You're not gonna leave once you get your things back, right?"
Tucker adamantly shook his head. 
They couldn't exactly keep the items from him since they did belong to Tucker. So, Shawn reached over and scooped the tiny objects into his palm. "Promise not to stab me again?" He asked warily before handing the items, most notably the nail, over.
Tucker stood and took a few steps back as the giant hand neared. He smirked up at Shawn, "As long as ya don't manhandle me again." There was still a hint of nervousness in his voice as the hand stopped right in front of him.
"Touché," Shawn replied as he slowly tilted his hand so the tiny objects could slide off.
The borrower immediately began inspecting his possessions. The fish line on his hook was tangled but that was an easy fix. Tucker grimaced as he noticed his silver nail still had some blood on the tip that has long since dried. He'll have to figure out how to make it shine again later. He dragged his leather satchel over to himself and undid the clip. The contents inside were strewn about but undamaged.
"I couldn't really see the killer's face inside the bag," Tucker began as he started to reorganize his satchel, "But his voice was too deep to be the resident male's- uh Steven's." He corrected.
Shadows covered him as the humans leaned in closer to hear his small voice. Tucker kept his eyes down as he distractedly untangled his climbing rope. "Kirstin was really surprised and scared. But I think she recognized him."
"Really? How so?" Gus asked.
"She called him 'J.'" He started to reveal. Suddenly, his hands stopped untangling the string. Flashes of the woman's giant, bloody face appeared in his mind. Her pained features and the desperation in her watery eyes as crimson blood pooled around her head. The way she stared at Tucker when she realized her final moments were approaching.
A lump formed in his throat. Tucker knew all too well what that fear and helplessness felt like. How suffocating it is. Like your drowning and the only way to go is deeper into the dark depths as weights dragged you down. And only the actions of others will decide your fate. Tucker got lucky, but the same couldn't be said for Kirstin.
"Earth to Tucker." A voice rumbled above.
He snapped out of his haunting memory of the murder only hours before. Tucker glanced up just in time to see a pale hand approaching him with a borrower-sized finger outstretched. Surprised, he fell onto his rear and scrambled back. "Stop, stop!" He frantically demanded, holding out his weapon.
The hand flinched away and quickly disappeared back under the desk. "Relax, I'm not some giant monster. I was just gonna poke you." Shawn said.
With a huff, Tucker rose back onto his trembling legs and glared at the human. "Ya touch me, ya get stabbed. Got it?" He stated, holding up the still bloody nail.
"No touching, I get it." Shawn swore. "Were you having a vision? Are you a mini psychic!" His face lit up at the mere thought of having a tiny spirit whisperer as a sidekick.
Gus rolled his eyes beside him.
Tucker slung his satchel over his shoulder and put his nail through the small hoop on the bag. Slightly embarrassed, he began coiling up his climbing rope. "No, sorry. I just-," he chuckled dryly, "Guess that human's death got to me more than I thought."
He glanced down at the desk under him as he thought it over. Death has never bothered him before today. It wasn’t uncommon to hear a borrower dying from illness or a rat or getting crushed. Out of eleven kids, Tucker and two other siblings were the only ones who lived to be adults.
Sure it was sad, but they would simply hold a funeral and move on. So why was this death, a human’s death, bothering him so much?
"That's nothing to be ashamed of, Tucker." Gus reassured him, unknowingly knocking him out of his thoughts.
"Yeah, Gus still gets queasy around bodies and we've been working on murder cases for months."
"That's a normal reaction, Shawn. Not everyone is a psychopath like you."
Shawn laughed, completely unbothered. "I see what you did there! Psych-opath." He lightly patted his friend's shoulder.
Annoyed, Gus quickly shrugged him off. With one last glare directed at Shawn, he turned his attention back to Tucker. "Ignore him. You said Kirstin called the killer 'J,' correct?" 
Tucker frowned as he remembered the victim's last word, meant just for him to hear in her final moments. "Yeah, then she said 'Josh' right before she died." His eyes danced between the humans. "Ya think that's the killer's name?"
Both men smiled. "Definitely sounds that way." Gus confirmed.
Tucker perked up at that. "I did what'cha asked. This mean I can go home now?"
"Of course!" Shawn assured him with an easy smile. "Hop on the Shawn Express and let's get rolling." He lowered his hand until it rested palm up in front of the borrower.
Tucker back up even further, not taking his eyes off the hand. His heartbeat quickened as the phantom feeling of those same fingers curling around him came back. It took everything in him not to pull out his weapon.
When it was clear Tucker was not hopping on his hand, Shawn curled his fingers to motion for the little guy to come closer. “The Blum house isn’t walking distance from here, especially for someone as vertically challenged as you.” He pointed out.
Tucker scowled up at him, “I-I know!” He stubbornly responded. He cautiously took a few steps closer before freezing up again. He just couldn’t do it. Willingly putting himself in a human’s hand went against every single survival instinct.
Gus frowned at his nervousness. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but Shawn can be careful when he needs to. You can trust him.” He promised.
He glanced up at Gus who gave him a reassuring nod, clearly telling the truth. Tucker took a few more moments to steel his nerves before closing the distance between him and the giant hand. He immediately climbed on the leathery skin before he could second guess himself, settling in the center of the palm. Tucker closed his eyes and tried to ignore the heat rising from the skin and the thumping of a pulse.
“Here we go,” Shawn warned quietly. He slowly rose his hand up to his chest and immediately placed his other hand underneath to add more protection for Tucker. “It’s just like when I carried that little spider when we were kids.” Shawn said with a smile, trying to hide how nervous he was carrying an entire human being.
Gus’ eyes were locked onto Tucker, ready to catch him again if something went wrong. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Never in a million years did he think he would watch his best friend hold a tiny little person in the palm of his hand.
His eyes never strayed from the small man, even at Shawn’s comment that brought back terrifying memories. “You mean that big spider you chased me around the house with for ten minutes straight?” His tone was full of annoyance.
“It was harmless.” Shawn responded as he began carefully walking towards the door. Tucker’s eyes were still shut tight, and Shawn thought he could even feel the minuscule fingers digging into his skin.
Gus sped past Shawn and to the door that led to the outside. “I’m pretty sure that was a brown recluse. You coulda killed me.” He cracked the door open and scanned the outdoors for anyone that could spot Tucker. Thankfully, no one seemed to be up in the very early hours of the morning and he quickly beelined to his blue car.
Shawn was close behind. His hands were protectively cupped to his chest as he too scanned his surroundings for people. “That definitely wasn’t a brown recluse, you’re making things up.” He defended himself.
Gus opened the passenger side door for him and he climbed inside. Gus quickly sat in the drivers seat and turned the key in the ignition.
Tucker flinched at the sound of the engine rumbling to life. He squirmed in the stuffy confines of the hands cupped over him, pushing against the fabric of the chest in front of him. After what felt like forever, the hands shifted around him and he found himself on his back looking up at two green eyes.
He quickly sat up and fixed his black poncho. “Are ya gonna put me down?” He asked nervously, glancing around the inside of the car.
Gus was the one who answered, “Absolutely not.” He turned in his seat and began backing out of the parking spot, making Tucker brace himself at the sudden movement. “There’s no safe places for you to sit in here and the last thing I want on my conscience is you getting hurt while I’m driving.” He stated without any room to argue.
Tucker nearly forgot how to breathe. How was he supposed to sit with a damn human the whole time!
Psychic or not, Shawn seemed to read his mind. “Relax, we’ll be back at your place before you know it.” He said with an easy smile.
Tucker forced himself to nod in response, hating every second of this morning. He couldn’t wait to get back in the walls and away from the humans.
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hyperdramas · 15 hours ago
Text
mosquito | lee seokmin
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pairing: lee seokmin x reader
warnings: non-idol au, boyfriend!seokmin, fluff, established relationship, clingy seokmin, pet names (reader uses 'sweetheart' and seokmin uses 'baby' & 'love'), lyr in her soft seokmin hours
now playing: mosquito, pinkpantheress
As you scanned the shelves for a jar of tomato sauce, your phone rang in your pocket, vibrating against your body. Picking it up, you sighed when you saw the name on the screen, answered it, and brought the phone to your ear as you sighed. "Seokmin."
Your boyfriend was known for his clingy nature—all of his friends and your friends knew about his attachment to you, and teased him for it. You couldn't go very far or long without him texting or calling you to ensure you were okay; you thought it was adorable, but in some situations (like this one) it was slightly exasperating.
"I miss you, love. When are you coming home? Where are you?" Seokmin's voice had a pout to it, and you could imagine his face from your spot in the sauce aisle—brown eyes wide with his soft lips jutted out like a child having a tantrum.
"Sweetheart, I'm on my way. I'm shopping for dinner tomorrow and picking up some extra groceries. Just a few more things on my list and I'm done." You reassure him, voice calm as a sigh tumbles through the phone's speakers.
"Please hurry up. Please—I want to see you. It's been almost all day since we've talked face to face," Seokmin wasn't lying either, and your heart clenched at his words: your workplace was busy today, and you didn't get time to call him on your lunch break like usual. It's been hours since you've heard his voice, and now he's calling you every forty-five minutes because of the simple fact.
"I'll hurry up, Seokkie, I promise." You smile, and Seokmin falls silent for a few seconds, humming in response as you start to push the cart and hang up on him.
"No—please don't hang up on me," Seokmin's rich voice is now high-pitched and whiny, and you sigh, tempted to rub your temples as you go to the location of the last item on your list.
"I'll stay with you on the phone, okay? Just don't hang up on me. I want to hear your voice, baby." Seokmin's in his whiny mode, but you sigh nevertheless, agreeing as Seokmin now has a smile in his voice. "Tell me how your day has been."
Listening to Seokmin's words like he's the mature one here, you tell him about your day, detailing everything that went on from beginning to end. Seokmin listened intently, adding comments when he wanted to and complimenting you for how you handled certain situations.
"Well, I've got to check out our groceries now," You sigh, pulling your cart into a checkout aisle. "Do you really have to go now, though?" Seokmin was still persistent—it didn't even really annoy you anymore, you were just so surprised he missed you this bad.
"Seokmin, yes, I do. Call me in five minutes, okay? I'll answer," you promise him. Seokmin falls quiet on the other side of the phone, obviously thinking about the promise you just made to him.
"You better answer. I'm serious." Seokmin's voice is devoid of emotion, highlighting his seriousness. You smile and say goodbye, but it takes about ten extra minutes because Seokmin insists on using every pet name in the book before finally telling you he loves you. Once the call ends, you sigh and begin to quietly unload the cart.
After you finish paying for the goods and take them to the car, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pick it up, unsurprised that he was there and waiting for you.
"You're a diligent boyfriend, aren't you?" You chuckle, bundled up as you stuff yourself in three jackets and walk to school with a wet nose and awful cough.
"The very best," Seokmin's voice is soft and sweet, and you giggle at his words, finishing your load up as you crank on the engine and start heading out. "I'm on my way home. I'm gonna see you soon," You smile, and Seokmin cheers on the other side of the phone, obviously ready to see you as his voice raises in pitch.
"I can't wait to have you back in my arms, love. I'll leave you alone while driving, okay? Drive well." Seokmin's goodbye makes your heart flutter, and you speed down the street, ready to give yourself to a selfless boyfriend like he was.
You felt on cloud nine when Seokmin hung up, and you sped down the road even faster, ready to soothe all of your sweet boyfriend's clingy worries and concerns.
feedback is greatly appreciated! let me know how you liked it in a reblog or comment <3
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awriterinthenight · 3 days ago
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"You Look Cute Flustered"-Anthony Lockwood
requested: anonymous
words: 1221
warnings: not much, the word suicidal maybe (idk if that counts), also implied that reader was shorter than Lockwood, but in my defense I usually use myself as reference when needed and I'm 4'11, but not much just cute fluff
summary: Lockwood was always charming and witty around everyone else, except for you. Around you Lockwood's mind would always draw a blank and he would become even more flustered. And it only got worse when you started to date.
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Everyone knew one thing about Lockwood and it was that he was incredibly witty. Wherever he went, whoever he talked to, he could charm his way out of any situation. Anyone, and everyone would easily fall for whatever smile, or smirk Lockwood would put on, just to get out of any situation. Even if he was just talking to someone he could capture their full attention in a matter of moments with the softest of smiles.
Lockwood was like that around everyone, except for you. When it came to you Lockwood couldn't seem to even get out a proper sentence without his brain almost short circuiting as he stumbled over all his words. This would always result in you smiling, or sometimes even teasing him by saying, "You look cute flustered."
One time you and Lockwood were in the kitchen preparing breakfast. You were making tea, while Lockwood was trying to finally make toast that didn't burn in the toaster. You were just trying to grab the sugar that George decided to put on the top shelf when he reorganised the entire kitchen during one of his maniac cleanings.
You could just barely reach when you felt a hand wrap around your waist, as a hand went up to grab the sugar for you, "Thanks, Anthony," you said, referring to him by his first name, something he only allowed you to do.
Lockwood didn't know if it was the way his hand rested on your waist, or the smile you gave him, or the way you said his name, making him feel like his entire self was made of butterflies. All poor Lockwood could manage out was a simple, "N-no problem," while turning back towards the one burnt toast, trying to hide the massive blush on his face.
After that interaction, whenever you said something to him he would immediately blush, then proceed to stumble over almost every word before getting the fragments of a sentence out.
Many more of these a occasions occurred, and they only got worse when the two of you started dating. Lockwood somehow got even worse. Every sentence took him a second to say after trying to get over his initial fluster.
Complimenting him, he was flustered. Making him tea, flustered, unable to express how thankful he was. Saving him during a job, even more flustered and takes him a moment to thank you and assure you that he was okay. Even just standing next to him, and that man turned as red as a tomato.
One of the most notable times this happened was while giving a report to Inspector Barnes. Lockwood and Co. had just escaped a suicidal job after showing up with almost no research. You managed to somehow cut yourself on your rapier when you were distracted. Now you were getting your hand patched up while Lockwood was waiting for Barnes to come back with the paperwork.
You had just finished getting your hand bandaged up, and started to head towards Lockwood. For once he wasn't flustered by your mere presence, more filled with concern for how you were doing.
The moment you were near him his arms wrapped around you, "How bad is your hand?" he asked, concerned for you since you would most likely be off the job for a week or two.
You shrugged, "Not horrible, but not good. I have to keep it bandaged for a week, and I can't do anything too straining, that way I don't break my stitches. I'll be out of operation for a week or two," You said, a bit sullen looking since you would be letting George, Lucy, and Lockwood work without you for a couple of weeks.
"It's okay, love," he said, placing a small kiss on your forehead, "Just do as the doctor said. No working till your hands fully healed and you'll be all better soon. When we get home I'll make you some tea and you can get some well deserved sleep, and you won't have to lift a finger for weeks, so that your hand can heal," Lockwood assured him. He would probably die from how much he cares about the people he loves. It was really just a small injury, an inconvenience as you thought of it, but Lockwood saw it as a reason to now take care of you more than he already did.
"That does sound nice, but I feel bad not being able to help you guys on jobs. It's just frustrating to me. It makes me feel useless" you told him, looking at the ground filled with your own pity for yourself.
Lockwood lifted up your chin so that you could look at him, "You're not useless, love. You can still help with research, but you're anything but useless, you know that?
You let out a breath, "Yeah, I know, I just hate it," you told him, relaxing further into his touch for comfort.
Lockwood lent down to plant a small kiss on your lips, "I'm just glad your okay," he said, leaning down for another kiss, this time a lot longer than the first one.
You stayed like that for a moment before you were interrupted, "Alright, I have all the paperwork, just sign here, here, and-" Barnes cut himself off when he noticed you two, and how you jumped apart.
In a moment like this Lockwood would usually say something witty like 'Your timing is impeccable', but once again Lockwood could no longer form words in his flustered state.
Instead it was you with the witty response, "You've clearly mastered the art of comedic timing, haven't you," you joked, looking at Barnes' shocked face. You and Inspector Barnes had a weird relationship. You'd known Barnes since you started out, and he even pointed you in the direction of Lockwood and Co., not purposefully since his words were more like, 'Whatever you do, do not join Lockwood and Co. and stay away from them', yet here you were. So Barnes was more than surprised to see his least favourite (his favourite) troublemaker kissing the girl he tried so hard to mentor to become a good person.
"I-I," he stumbled, confused to what was happening, "Since when have you been a thing?" Once again Lockwood tried to speak, but was unable to find any sort of words.
"A month, two I think next week," you told Barnes, thinking back to when Lockwood finally asked you out. Barnes decided to ask questions later, and for now hand you all the necessary paperwork.
Once you finished, Barnes collected it and turned to leave, but not before he told Lockwood, "Don't hurt her, I already am not your biggest fan, so don't screw whatever this is up to."
Lockwood probably would've made some sort of joke, but all he did was nod, smile, and try to stumble out some sort of 'understood' while trying to not blush too much. Barnes could tell Lockwood would never do anything to hurt you, just by how he was acting. No one made Anthony Lockwood flustered and unable to use his charm and wit, except for you. While looking over the paperwork Inspector Barnes thought about how one day he wouldn't be surprised if (or more like when) he saw your name have the last name Lockwood behind it.
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aninonimosstuff-blog · 2 days ago
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Hello everypony, I come here to make an announcement.
I will be rather busy this week, I have finals coming my way and a lot of tests I have to retake...
I will still be uploading content but it will definitely start to slow down...
I'm putting a hold on replying to asks... But I still will be receiving any asks y'all want to send, and if it's something simple and for me I will be able to reply to it in no time. Like y'all know my drawings are pretty simple but I like to create a nice story telling and plan everything... There are only one factor for me to reply to your asks a bit quicker....
1- A funny interaction between characters, it has to be funny.
I actually find this problem with many asks, at least, for Fast that is. I get a lot of those and I neglect them because they don't scratch my brain or bring enough energy to reply. I don't mind at all text, it's super sweet to read all of what y'all have to say, but my brain works a bit differently. I see colours, a character, a funny interaction or statement and my brain is absolutely hooked on your ask!.... Meanwhile when I see a question with text my imagination juice frikin dies... But again, that doesn't mean I don't actually mean I won't reply to your asks if it's only text, I will always try to think about something and find a way to make it funny to see or have my character just go into existential mode.
I want to keep drawing about Fast but oh man Turbos questions are way more fun to do than Fast's. Y'all can be silly with any of my characters! Get comfy and be silly with them! (Not that comfy to ask friked up stuff) But a funny character interaction can make things for me a bit easier to manage, because silliness is what I have more to offer.
Topic 2...
Replies to reblogs/art commissions. (Tw for mentions of burned out, depression,self hate,vent)
If I don't reply to your reblogs with a drawing like I have been doing since I started my journey here, I am probably neglecting it for a few days/months. And I know that makes me an asshole and makes me feel shitty about myself, and I'm sorry I do that, that's never my intention. I'm here to express joy and silliness even if I'm suffering a burnt out or a depressive episode all of the sudden. Most of the time I am in a constant cycle of depression and burnt out from replying to asks(mostly text) most of the day of the week. But I still try to deliver something, because y'all deserve it, I don't want to leave my Tumblr, I love posting every day!.....
I am a person who sadly works on silly energy, and when that is gone makes my life a misery. I ran out of energy most of the time thanks to my depression, who always hits me on the back of the head when I have to do something productive.
I will put my ass on working on commissions... Now.
Now... Let's address the Turbo in the room with us.
About myself.
I am selfish, and I won't deny it. I am a selfish person. I LOVE the attention, I love receiving art of my character, I love getting likes, I love getting comments and I love getting asks.
And when I don't get that attention that I'm carving I get all annoyed and pissy with myself, I can be a "bit" toxic.
Sadly attention is one of the many things why I keep this blog alive. Not only do I still love Wir and the beautiful community, but I love the attention.
But attention seeking always can get you so far, until all that you love it's gone, and attention seeking is what is left in you. That will then push you over and make you feel bad with yourself that you would do ANYTHING for that small bit of attention, that being from your peers or strangers.
I am selfish and a jealous wolf, I like interacting with my friends I like to get attention from my friends, it's a vicious cycle, and it's really toxic.
That's why I most of the time I control myself, or at least try. I try to not explode and show how jealous I am. Because that's bad.
I have been working on that issue for a long time, I would say I have been working on controlling my jealousy since 2020 when I was spending too much time online to the point of making my depression worsen.
But luckily I'm trying to change that. And I apologize if I ever went a bit turbo on any of my posts... I'm still working on it.
What to expect in the future?
I will keep posting and replying asks.
I will keep being online
I will probably be more active next month rather than now.
A lot of events are coming and I want to do all of them.
Cool animatics
My birthday is coming (December 21) and I will be rather busy that day, so a heads up for that.
On vacations I want to work on animation and try to make puppet rigs for my character Fast.
On vacation I want to go back to my old ways of posting and replying with cute drawings as fast (and good like now) as I can.
That's everything for now, thank you so much for reading this!...
I will be posting more soon.
-Ewolf
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