#this is the only whump you guys are ever getting from me 😂

[dontbelasagnax]

@codywanfirstkissbingo: kiss of life

It shouldn't be like this. He had plans. Dreams.

He'd thought of a gentle kiss shared one late night when the hum of companionship and longing looks spilled over. Lips tasting of herbal tea and ration bars.

Or, hidden away in a dark corner of Coruscant on a rare shore leave, they'd find comfort in giving into what they've both wanted for so long. Hands tangled in hair, remnants of their meal licked from blisteringly hot mouths, not a care in the world.

Perhaps they'd wait till after the war. Reach for one another amidst cheers and find joy and relief in their embrace and long awaited kiss.

Instead, he presses his lips to Obi-Wan's for the first time and does his best to breathe life into unresponsive lips and lungs. He can't ignore the acrid taste of blood and ash. There's nothing but terror and heartache lancing his chest.

'Not like this', he thinks, a hot tear running down his cheek. 'Please, stay with me.'

(bingo card under the cut)

[thlayli-ra]

Ficlet Request - Treat - Being playfully clingy in the mornings when one has an off day and the other has to rush to work - PunkIntyre + Seth Rollins (idk if they have a poly ship name yet?)

I’m sure plenty of people will request whump fics and I will enjoy every bit of it as it comes, but for now, I just want something cute and domestic 🥰😂

Something cute and domestic coming right up! 🥰

Treat - 'Being Playfully Clingy'

Characters - Seth Rollins, Drew McIntyre, CM Punk

Rating - Teen and up

Warnings - None apply, domestic fluff

Drew was a hugger. And that was fine! Lovely actually. Especially on those lazy Sunday morning where all three of them would be tucked up in bed with nowhere to go and nothing to do, and Drew (in the middle where he liked to be) would wrap both of his titanic arms around his boyfriends and snuggle them in close. The soft, comforting body heat would lull them all back into a pleasant doze and they would stay that way for hours and hours.

That was the beauty of Drew, really - there was plenty of him to go around.

However, when there was only the two of them at home, Drew could be, well, how to put it delicately, he was... clingy as hell! Seth knew this well, considering he'd been going out with Drew the longest, and he also knew that the Scot was really missing his newer boyfriend. The pout he wore when they went their separate ways after Raw was devastating.

'I'm sorry, Big Guy,' Punk lamented, trying to breath as the huge Scot wrapped his arms tightly around his chest and refused to let go. 'I'm staying at the hotel tonight and driving onto the next town for NXT, remember? Got my special guest referee duties to do.'

'He'll be fine,' Seth said with a warm roll of his eyes, finally prising Drew's massive hands off of Punk. 'You have a safe journey tomorrow and we'll see you Thursday.'

'Bright and early, I promise,' Punk said, accepting a kiss from his sharply dressed boyfriend. 'Oh, and thanks for lending me your booty shorts.'

'Yeah, well, somebody's gotta wear them,' Seth joked with a shrug, 'since they arrived too late for the you two's match at Summerslam.'

'Well, thanks to you, I now know what not to do when officiating,' Punk gave a cheeky grin, opening the door to his rental. 'Love you.'

'Love ya, hon,' Seth returned.

'Love you, Punky,' Drew chimed in, watching crestfallen as the car drove away into the night.

Ever since then, Drew had followed Seth around like a overly affectionate cat, no, not so much a cat, more like, a full grown adult male Siberian tiger, wrapping his giant paws around Seth and gently digging its claws in, refusing to let go.

And that was fine! When they were both off with nothing to do. But today, Seth was scheduled for some media work, the first of which started in two hours and he was still stuck fast in bed with Drew's anaconda arms and legs coiled around him. He'd been awake for a while now, ever since his alarm had sounded at seven, but Drew (still loitering in the middle of the bed, even with Punk gone and all that extra space available) had whimpered 'no, no', rolled over and grabbed him.

Seth had allowed it. He knew this would be a tough morning for Drew and he fully expected him to be even clingier than usual so they lay for another half hour, spooning, Seth the tiny demitasse spoon compared to Drew and his extra large serving ladle. But time was now ticking on and Seth needed to get showered and smartly dressed and be out that door on time.

Peeking over his shoulder he found Drew's eyes shut, a serene look on his face as he dozed peacefully. Seth carefully slipped his hands under Drew's and gently opened them up in order to free himself when they abruptly clamped down again, gripping tighter.

'Nooo,' Drew grumbled into his shoulder blades, rubbing his face against Seth's bare back.

'I know but I got to, sweetie,' Seth said. 'I've got work to do today.'

'No!' Drew huffed like a toddler. 'Stay.'

'Believe me I would love to but Hunter would have my head on a platter if I missed these appearances.' An idea popped into Seth's head. 'You wanna come shower with me?'

Drew practically leapt out of bed with excitement.

So they showered together. And that was fine! They'd just had a new, larger unit installed so that the three of them could fit in together, which, it turned out was for the best, otherwise Punk would have hogged it all the goddamn time. Steaming hot showers, strong coffee and baked goods - his three main vices, which was a damn sight better than drugs, cigarettes or alcohol. None of them drank, although Drew enjoyed an alcohol-free beer with Sheamus now and again, so at least they didn't any awkwardness with that to contend with.

Speaking of awkwardness, this current shower was proving to be difficult seeing as Seth had what he could only describe as the equivalent of a bear-skin rug draped over him like a cape. 'Hey Drew, you mind moving over so I can-' The bear gave a growl and buried its snout deeper into the nape of Seth's neck. 'Ok, fine. Not like anybody will be seeing my back anyways.'

He eventually managed to wriggle out from between the Scot's tentacles long enough to slap on a pair of dress pants and an immaculately pressed button-down shirt but as soon as he'd fastened one cuff, it was snared between two jaws of a colossal Venus flytrap. 'Uh, Drew,' Seth cocked a brow at the Scot who sat on the bed, decked in only a towel knotted around his waist, dripping wet with his long, drenched hair sticking to his neck and shoulders, 'I kinda need that hand.'

'Tough,' Drew smirked cheekily.

'Fine, I can do my other cuff when I get there,' Seth sighed, adding with a mutter under his breath, 'and my tie and put on my jacket and my shoes and...'

Normally Seth would make something filling like pancakes for breakfast, and while he stood at the stove, Drew would come up behind him, place his arms on Seth's waist and his chin on Seth's shoulder and comment on how delicious it smelled. And that was fine! But today, Seth had no time to make anything fancy for breakfast, so instead he opted for a quick bowl of bran cereal with a dollap of milk. But he couldn't bend down to open the dishwasher with Drew pressed right up against him, and had to shuffle to the pantry under both of their weight and Drew's huge arm around his shoulders made it impossible for him to reach up - 'Uh, Drew, honey, can you grab me the- oh, thanks! - and then he had to drag them both across to the fridge then he couldn't sit down because he was now two human beings, one of which was the size of a house, fused together so he had to stand at the counter instead and as soon as he dipped his spoon into the cereal and tried to lift it to his mouth, Drew grabbed hold of his wrist and peppered kisses down his arm and-

-and now, this was really getting into the 'not fine' territory!

'Shit, is that the time?' Seth gasped at the wall clock. He was officially running late, and Seth Rollins never ran late. So he hobbled off in a panic, Drew still clinging to his shoulders like a fucking silver back mountain gorilla who'd been raised by spider monkeys to try and find his shoes (which he had no hope of shining before he left) and his jacket (which he'd hoped to press but had to give up on that too) and his open cuff caught on a door handle and his ears heard a horrible shredding noise and now his entire sleeve was torn apart and flapping around and when he glanced back at the clock, another twenty fucking minutes had passed!

'DREW! GET OFF!'

'No!'

'I'm meant to be at the studio in ten minutes and at this rate I'll hit the rush hour traffic. I need to go now!'

'Noooo!'

'Punk will be back any minute, so please, you only have to be by yourself for an hour or so at the most-'

'Noooooo!'

'URGH!' Seth despaired, but another three minutes had passed and he had to get out that door. So he gritted his teeth and squared his shoulders and waded to the front door like a kid at the carnival dragging around the comically over-sized bear he'd won at the stalls. That was... made entirely out of glue and bricks for some reason! 'Drew,' he grunted with each hard-fought step. 'I really. Really. Have to. GO!'

Just before he reached the door, it opened. A man stepped in and immediately jumped with fright at the sight of a bedraggled Seth lugging a huge, hairy Scotsman in a towel on his back. 'Uh... hi,' he said.

'PUNKY!' Drew cheered, hopping off of Seth. 'You're home!'

'Perfect timing,' Seth said, flying past Punk out the door, but not before planting a cute kiss on his cheek and whispering in his ear. 'He's all yours now.'

On cue, Drew rushed towards Punk and lifted him right up off his feet in an excruciating bear hug. Out the corner of his eye, the tattooed man saw Seth make a run for the car, and sweet freedom. Joke was on him though. There was nowhere he'd rather be than right here.

'Hey Big Guy,' Punk smiled down at Drew, accepting every kiss and hug and nuzzle that came his way. 'I missed you too.'

[soullessjack]

another offshoot of jack being infantilized is that it’s leeched into the popular mischaracterization of jack as some soft sensitive crybaby who hates violence, hates scary things and is super nice and sweet and cutesy all the time and of course he’s used to accessorize Claire as a big mean lesbian sister who always gets them in trouble, and what makes it so unbearable besides the ableist rooting, is that it’s just canonically utterly wrong. like go back and watch 13x02 & 03. go back and watch 14x06 when they convince Dean to go on a case behind Sam’s back. or look at any time they’re defiant to Cas (and for the love of god do not look at it as “lol sassy baby dean is a bad influence bad dad 😂” or so help me I am throwing multiple rocks at you). like you can say he’s a bitch. you can say he’s a cunt even. it won’t kill you.

in fact, I implore you to, because it is a step away from infantilizing his every action as silly baby behavior and ergo a step in the right direction. look at the entire apocalypse world arc where he decides he has to personally kill Michael when the plan was only ever to escape through the rift. remember the scene where they’re crying in the woods and it got ran with as hashtag poor baby boy whump and nobody noticed that he��d literally almost strangled someone because of their impulsive temper?? or when they made the decision to brutally torture a man by snapping and twisting his skeleton and burning him so intensely his shirt fabric blackened?? and somehow that gets turned into shit like “daddy hold my sippy cup” because for some fucking reason you guys are so intent on making him out to be a child and infantilizing his canon traits to be more palatable to that idea of him.

TLDR please can we actually recognize how bitchy and violent and rebellious jack is. can you guys realize that his entire behavioral pattern of saying hi and waving hello is him masking and repressing because his emotions literally are nuclear charged and he doesn’t want to be a threat. can we please.

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Chapter 17 ~ Called out

Hidden Depths

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

Also on ao3

Genre: Fantasy whump

CW: ANGST - do i gotta keep adding this LOL. withdrawal (as in withdrawing into oneself), knowingly using a person's disability against them (but not maliciously-part of the withdrawal)

WC: 3435

In which some of these issues that've been piling up get dealt with, much to Carr's dismay.

AN: This is one of those chapters that is just massively revealing in regards to the character's personality, and I love it. I love the angst and fear and anxiety that rise up in these situations, only to be laid to rest when those fears aren't realized.

Like yeah, Carr is a badass, but that isn't all she is. And it pleases me greatly to be able to showcase that in this chapter.

Also, Resh finally snapped. Do you realize how hard it was to push that guy to a breaking point? 😂😅

Carr

Gods, she hated traveling in this carriage. 

The cabin was so small; even though she had a whole bench to herself, it didn’t feel like it. Even though she tr–wait, trusted? Fuck, not a word she’d ever expected to use. Carr shifted in her seat, peering out the window for the hundredth time–still no one. 

Even though she trusted Resh and Orla, their presence had its own weight, one that pressed against her same as the walls, same as the closed door. The door was accessible, sure, but leaving wasn’t exactly an option unless she wanted to chance breaking something. 

Trapped. 

It made her skin crawl. 

She knew Resh sensed something was off, but what could she tell him? Wasn’t like there was anything to be done for it. And now there was this other… issue. Carr picked at a dried fleck of blood she’d missed under her nail, avoiding looking at him. If she couldn’t see him trying to talk, she could pretend nothing was wrong. Right? 

Yeah, sure. Could she also pretend she hadn’t triggered Resh last night, bursting into his room and drawing her blades like that? Covered in blood, no less. Disgusted with herself, she threw her head back against the wall, a sharp crack sounding as bone hit wood. Orla’s head popped up from her book, her eyes questioning. Carr shrugged, and the girl sighed, returning to her reading. Carr didn’t look at Resh. 

Nothing is wrong nothing is wrong nothing is wrong

She wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her head on her knees. 

One could cut the tension in the carriage with a knife. Carr knew the pretending couldn’t last, but still, she wanted nothing to be wrong. Wanted it so badly–

A rush of air followed by a loud banging on the wall to her right brought her head back up, and she flinched back into the corner, more out of surprise than from fear, to find Resh on the bench beside her, slamming open the partition to the front of the carriage. 

He shoved his notepad through the opening, which their driver took, sounding the words out slowly as he read. 

A flash of jealousy sparked in Carr’s chest, that this carriage driver could communicate better with Resh than she could. 

“What…” she started to ask when Resh returned to his seat, but the carriage pulling off the path answered the question for her. She uncurled her limbs, wondering if she needed to put her boots back on. They were stopping for something. Maybe Resh just needed to take a piss? 

It didn’t really fit with the force of his motions as he caught the carriage driver’s attention or the hardness in his brown eyes, something Carr could say she’d never seen there before. Oh fuck, she’d pushed him too far. She hadn’t even been able to make it one fucking day. 

Her heart dropped into her stomach even as her mouth twisted. Should’ve known she couldn’t do this. Try to be part of something like the family Resh and Orla had. They obviously loved each other; what was she even doing here, interfering with that? Swallowing against the lump in her throat, she started replacing the few items she’d removed from her bag and tugged her boots back on.  

“Resh says he just wants to talk,” Orla’s clear voice piped up, and Carr slowly raised her head. “I’m assuming without me, as usual.” She sighed. 

Carr looked at Resh for longer than two seconds this time. He still appeared angry with his jaw clenched like that, but his brow was creased. The numbness that was trying to creep back in to protect her halted as he held her gaze, not even looking away as he scribbled something in his notebook and handed it to his sister. 

Orla rolled her eyes. “You know… Oh. Haha. He says he’d like to talk in private, but if he has to use me to talk for him, he will. That it’s up to you, Carr, if you can bring yourself to look at him long enough…” She trailed off, frowning as she read on.    

“Resh, that isn’t being nice to yourself, and I won’t say it,” she finished, twisting to face her brother. 

He scrunched his nose at her. 

Carr stared, her cheeks heating as she realized how thoroughly she’d been shutting him out. Gods, she felt like shit. He should ask her to leave. 

The carriage lurched to a halt. Resh was up and out before Carr fully registered the surcease of motion, and she was left staring at his back through the open door as he strode across a field of clover toward a stand of trees in the distance.  

“Well, are you going to listen, or am I coming too?” Orla asked, using her finger to mark her place in her book. 

Shame made Carr stumble over her words as she said, “I-I’ll listen. Shit, does he really, really think…” 

Orla glanced at his abandoned notepad, her eyes sad. “I think that’s the most blunt thing he’s said to me since he returned, and I don’t much like it. My brother is one of the strongest people I know, but maybe…” She shook her head, jostling her cap of small curls. “He cares about you, Carr. More than I’ve seen him care about anyone before. And I think you care too, or you wouldn’t be here. So go talk.”

She opened her book again, which Carr took as a sign of dismissal. It would’ve been amusing, getting lectured by a frail twelve-year-old girl, if she hadn’t hit so many nerves. 

The pink and white flowers dotting the clover field might’ve been pretty if Carr hadn’t felt like she was walking to her own execution. She started to chew on her thumbnail, only to pull it back out when copper bloomed on her tongue. She’d done a shit job of washing up, it seemed. Her hands went to the hilts of her daggers instead, but she jerked them away when she noticed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

She would walk up to him and listen, she told herself. No interrupting. No fidgeting. Stand still and watch his mouth. Let him speak his mind. It was too easy to interrupt him or to lose focus and miss words. Too easy to turn away if he was saying something she didn’t want to hear. 

He couldn’t speak because of her. The least she could do was listen. She didn’t have to like or agree with the words, but he deserved to say them in whatever way he still could. 

Her nails dug crescents into her upper arms as she approached. The small copse of trees he’d found provided shade from the blazing summer sun, which was now at its zenith. Carr figured they had traveled far enough, and this stop would be safe. There was no body to chase them for, after all. 

A small, gurgling stream caught her attention, and she glanced at it before looking back at Resh. He was leaning against one of the trees, watching as she closed the remaining distance. A breeze stirred the waves of hair covering his forehead, giving her a glimpse of the still-reddened flesh hiding beneath the strands.

Guilt flared, and she tried to chew on her thumbnail again before pulling it away with a sound of disgust. Instead, she sat by the stream; less chance of her forgetting herself and beginning to pace that way. 

His boots whispered over the grass as he moved to join her. 

“Do you want me t’ leave?” she blurted, forcing herself to turn and face him. Yeah… so about that listening part. 

The hard mask of his features cracked, showing… uncertainty? His mouth opened and closed, like she’d taken him by surprise, before he finally started forming words. 

Do you want to be here? he asked. 

She waited a moment, then scowled when he said nothing else. “Why would’ya think otherwise?” 

He crossed his arms. I don’t know, Carr. Why wouldn’t I think that? You seem uncomfortable, you won’t talk to me, you won’t even look at me. 

A pause, which lengthened until she realized he must want her to indicate she understood. She made a little ‘go on’ motion with her hand, and he continued.  

You relax when you talk to Orla, so it must be me that makes you uncomfortable. Am I that disturbing to look at,–he tugged at his sleeves–or is it because I’m male? Did you come because you felt sorry for me? Responsible? 

Carr’s mouth fell open. How could he possibly…? When she didn’t say anything, he seemed to get even more agitated. 

Did you understand what I said? It’s hard to tell–

“Yeah, I understand. You think you’re the problem, which is ridiculous, by the way–” Movement in her peripheral caught her attention, and she turned her head to find a leaf floating by, caught in the little stream’s current. She watched it move past, using the distraction to force the rest of what he’d said out. 

“And asked if how you look is the issue, or if it’s cuz you’re male, or if I felt sorry for you, responsible.” 

Repeating words he’d said back at him wasn’t the same as coming up with her own. Carr had plenty of thoughts, but none would stick with her long enough for her to string them together in a way that wouldn’t sound crazy. How could he think those things? She blinked, feeling helpless as she returned her gaze to him. This wasn’t something she could fix with hardness or violence, and it had been a very long time since she’d been in a situation where that wasn’t the case.   

Okay. Resh waited for a minute, in which Carr realized he wanted her to answer, but evidently, she didn’t say anything fast enough. The corners of his mouth turned down as he started speaking again, taking away her chance.  

I don’t need a minder. Just because I can’t speak doesn’t mean I can’t work out other ways of communicating. His gloved fingers dug into his knees. I realize I didn’t handle that situation at the inn very well, but I promise that I’m capable of taking care of myself and my sister. So if that’s why you’re here, maybe you should leave. I thought… I thought–

“Resh, no!” She couldn’t stand the pain in his eyes. “No. That’s not–I…” Her hands clenched into fists, and she automatically looked away. Why were words so fucking hard? 

Then she realized what she’d done, and snapped her head back to him, hoping she hadn’t missed anything, but he was just staring at her. Waiting. 

She ripped up a piece of clover and started pulling the petals. “I… do feel responsible, for what happened,” she said to the plant. 

Pluck, roll the petal, drop. 

“But that’s not… why? You,”–she glanced up at him, making sure she wasn’t talking over him–“you seem t’ get me, in a way no one else has. But I’ve… already fucked it up.” The last words were nothing more than a whisper. 

Pluck, drop. Pluck, drop. The petals rained down in front of her crossed legs. 

A sharp whistle cut through the air, and she flinched violently, the sound stabbing into her ears. But it served its intended purpose, and she looked back up at Resh. 

He frowned. Are you scared of me? 

She shook her head, rubbing one of her ears where the vibration still seemed to linger, like it had left behind little prickling needles to stab into her brain. 

The sound? He cocked his head when she dropped her hand and shrugged. 

“It worked, it’s fine.” She hated high-pitched sounds, but it was a good method. 

Resh whistled again, lower this time, and she furrowed her brows. Better? 

“Y-yeah.” Carr flushed, looking away, then quickly looked back up. Gods, this was hard. She’d never realized how difficult it was to stare at someone’s face. 

Okay, good. If you need to look away, that’s fine. I’ll whistle if I want to say something. Does that work for you? 

Gods. It was that kind of thing right there that made him… Her clover ran out of petals, so she chucked the empty stem and pulled up a blade of grass to shred. Then realized she hadn’t answered. Fuck. 

“Yeah, that works.” 

When she didn’t say anything else, he huffed. 

So what is it that’s bothering you in the carriage, specifically? I’m not a mind-reader, and I only have the clues you give me to work off of. You seemed happy when I asked you to come with us, but then we hugged… and… He looked increasingly uncomfortable, tugging on his sleeves over and over. Did you feel… I know I’m… I tried to cover them all, but maybe… 

Tears pricked her eyes. Did he honestly think she gave a rat’s ass about the scars? Was he covering them for her? She scooted closer to him until their knees were almost touching and reached for his hand, which he allowed her to take with a bewildered look. 

The glove resisted when she tried to pull it off, probably stuck to his sweltering skin. So she worked it off, one finger at a time. She didn’t look up, and he didn’t whistle, but he didn’t pull away either, even though she could feel his hand trembling. 

When she was done, she brought his hand to the stream at their side, rinsing off the sweat. Then, turning his palm up, she traced the white slivers of scar tissue covering his skin. 

“What did this?” she asked softly. 

He closed his eyes, his fingers twitching under her touch. Broken glass. He must’ve sensed her confusion because he went on after a long moment. M-made me crawl over it. 

Oh gods. Her fault, her fault, her fault. 

She let him have his hand back, which he clenched into a fist, folding his arm over his stomach. “Cuz you wouldn’t tell him where I went?” Her voice quavered, a pit opening up in her gut. 

He snorted, bringing his gloved hand up to rearrange his bangs. Because I pulled away when he kept touching my face, tucking my hair in, being fucking possessive of his property. He shook his head when her face fell. It wasn’t your fault, Carr. He only asked me once where you went. He didn’t really care, though. It was just a convenient excuse to justify torturing me. 

Gods, she wanted to kill that scumsucking ratfucker. But she couldn’t, so she pulled Resh’s other hand off his face and took that glove as well. Then she pushed up his sleeve, revealing a multitude of what looked like knife slices, some straight and thin, others jagged, the scar tissue thicker. She found a small divot on his forearm where the skin had been removed, remembered how many more of those areas covered his chest, his flanks, his back. 

Breath coming short now, she reached up slowly to brush aside his bangs, giving him every opportunity to move away. But he didn’t. The brand still looked angry, irritated from the sweat beading on his forehead, perhaps. Carr let his hair fall back into place and curved her hand around his cheek, which she found wet with tears when he leaned into her touch.

“I don’t give a shit about the scars,” she said, sorrow lacing her tone. “You aren’t disgusting, and you don’t need t’ hide them. I’m not…” she paused, unable to lie to him in this moment. “I’m not… entirely… uncomfortable cuz of you. Mostly it’s not you,” she clarified. 

He pulled back at that. I won’t hurt you. 

“I know that. I just… I don’t…” She covered her face with her hands. “I-don’t-know-what-this-is-or-how-to-act.” The words came out in a barely intelligible rush. 

A whistle, long and low, had her peeling her hands away a few moments later. 

Neither do I, he said with a small smile. What is it then? 

“It’s not important,” she hedged, pulling up another clover. 

His fingers twitched where they rested on his knee, but he didn’t reach out. She looked back up. 

It’s important to me. 

Orla had said he cared about her. Shit, so had Nykim. She hadn’t really believed them. She knew people found her… difficult to deal with. That she was rough, offensive, rude. A lot of that was on purpose, to cover up the things she couldn’t control that still managed to annoy people. 

Her own mother hadn’t been able to stand her; why should some random guy she met in prison be any different? Carr jumped up, unable to sit still for another second, and paced up and down the stream, twisting her hands in front of her to keep from pulling a dagger. 

What was she doing? So what if he had been kind to her? So what if she had missed him so badly while he was living in the palace that she’d stalked the grounds just to catch a glimpse of him through a window when he crossed the halls? This was insanity; he’d grow tired of dealing with her, same as everyone else ever had and–

Resh appeared out of nowhere, right in front of her, and she gasped, skidding to a halt before she ran bodily into him. He caught her hands before she could go for her blades. Her gaze snapped back up. 

Please don’t stab me. 

She gave a shaky laugh. 

You’re freaking out. Why? Because I said you’re important? His thumb ran over her knuckles, but he withdrew his hands when her gaze flicked down. Sorry. 

“Yeah,” she said, rubbing her hand. It was an automatic reaction, one designed to rid herself of the feeling of another person’s hands on her. Her touch replaced theirs–but she found it wasn’t really necessary, not with him. In fact, she almost regretted doing it, and that scared her. She didn’t want to think about him being important, or her being important…

“I–don’t wanna talk about it.” The look she shot him was part threat, part plea. 

Okay. 

Really? She tilted her head, even as the sharp curl of anxiety began to subside. 

Resh tucked a wayward strand of hair behind his ear, then tugged on his scarf. 

Fucking scarf. Carr stepped into his space, knocked his hand away, and began loosening the knot. “I feel trapped. In the carriage.” 

The scarf’s smooth fabric caught on her calluses as she pulled it free and stepped back, not missing how Resh’s hand immediately went to his throat. The small white dots the thorns had left behind weren’t even visible from a distance, just as she’d suspected; she’d only seen them while she’d been up close. 

“I know it’s dumb, and there’s nothin can be done. Now, doesn’t that feel better?” Carr surveyed him. Yeah, some of the scars on his arms stood out. But it wasn’t so bad he shouldn’t feel able to roll up his sleeves. The ones on his hands and throat weren’t really visible unless you were close to him. 

Resh waved to catch her attention. Can you ride? 

She shook her head. 

You could sit up front with the driver, when being inside is too much. 

Fuck no. She grimaced and shook her head again. 

His brow furrowed, and she sighed. 

“It’s okay, Resh. I just–that’s why, is all.” 

We can take breaks. The schedule isn’t so full that we can’t stop and take a walk every few hours. I don’t have anywhere to be. I literally have no idea where I’m going, I’m just… going, until we’re far enough away. Until we find someplace that feels right. 

That… that would help so much. The second worse part of the carriage was the enforced idleness. Being able to stretch her legs every so often… Carr stared. “You would do that?” 

Of course. So… you don’t want to leave? 

Blinking back tears, she shook her head. “No, I don’t.” 

He heaved his own sigh. I’m glad. Don’t shut me out again. Please? If you don’t want to talk about something, that’s fine, but I can’t–I can’t talk. I have no way to communicate with you if you won’t even look at me.        

Her throat had closed up, so she nodded. 

Okay. Let’s wash the blood off your hands before we go back. And perhaps you can tell me why it’s there to begin with, and why we had to leave that town in such a hurry.

Oh shit.

Next

Image Description

[ID: The banner is a blue-green background, with tree branches arching over a set of blue-green eyes, forming an approximation of a face. The words Hidden Depths are written in white above the eyes. Any other images are purely decorative lines. end ID]

[snaillamp]

Hey snail, how did you find about whump as a term? And who was your first blorbo?

~Squishy

LMAOOOO OK SQUISHY SO ITS SORTA EMBARRASSING!!!!!

Anyway, I watch YouTube. I used to watch, probably too much YouTube. But. I have some favourite channels, including one called Watts the Safeword. I’m ace as fuck, and have no interest in sex, but that channel is so interesting. It’s run by two guys who are very fun and they talk about all sorts of stuff such as kink, gay shit and sex ed.

Anyway, at the beginning of last year, I’m watching one of their videos about… I don’t even remember but it was probably like “we ask our viewers what weird or unusual kinks they have” and I’m going through the comments. This random lady was like “yeah I’m really into whump, which is when a character gets hurt. It’s not really a kink and more of a fan fic thing but I’m sure it is kinky for some people.” And I’m like 👀

Hello??? I like that stuff too…. WHERE HAS THIS TERM BEEN ALL MY LIFE?

So my immediate reaction is to come to this hellsite and look up #whump, cause ofc if it’s a fan fic term about characters being hurt, tumblr will know about it. And uh… yeah… tumblr knew about it.

Whump isn’t a kink for me and never has been, but hey if it is for you, that’s awesome. I’ve only ever encountered one person who called it a kink, actually.

As for my first blorbo…

I have no idea. I’d say probably Leonardo from the TMNT franchise. He’s always been my favourite and that’s partly cause he gets whumped a lot 😂 he’s probably not my first Whumpee but definitely my first blorbo :D

I fucking love tmnt man

[whumpmatsus]

aaa if u want a double whammy request how about 6a and 22 from whump meme for choro?

Ultimate Whump Writing Meme! / ACCEPTING!

6. Broken bone/bone fracture

A: Broken rib

+

22. Sneezing fit

oh this is my jam, I love sneezy boys in pain

poor Choro!! gave this one a Nenchuu lean because Ichi tryna take care of his big bro is so cute uwu

I knowwww it's not, like, super realistic for someone who's young and healthy with no bone problems to break a rib by sneezing or coughing, but... it seems it could happen if you stifle a really forceful sneeze? and Choro is a serial stifler so I could see it happening to him, he tries to hold back the wrong one or too many in a row and BOOM fractured rib even if it's not a terribly bad break

regardless let me have my unrealistic fantasyyyyyy 😂😂

-

There’s really no denying that allergies have presented a myriad of different problems for Choromatsu over the years.

They’ve made his eyes itchy and watery, they’ve caused frustrating congestion and endless instances of a runny nose, they’ve made his asthma flare up, and perhaps most distressingly, they’ve made it insanely difficult to get a date. (After all, what person wants to go out with a guy who’s a sneezy, wheezy, snotty mess for at least half the year? And often more than that?)

In general, allergies just kind of suck. There are countless ways they can make his life miserable.

That said, breaking a fucking rib through an allergic sneezing fit is a new one.

Although, it’s not necessarily just the fault of his allergies. He knows by now that he shouldn’t be trying to stifle his sneezes, especially one right after another; it’s a lot of force that suddenly has nowhere to go except down into his chest. Breaking a rib by sneezing evidently falls under the ‘not unheard of, though it’s strange to happen in an adult without bone problems’ category. That’s just Choromatsu’s luck, it seems.

The doctor explained, after he sheepishly admitted that he often stifles sneezes in an effort to keep them from being so messy, that repeated stifling isn’t a good idea for a worse reason, because of the risk of rupturing his eardrums from the pressure.

It just so happens that he’s actually lucky he broke a rib doing it rather than the alternative. If he’d managed to perforate his eardrums by stifling, he could have lost some hearing, it would almost certainly cause a lot of ear infections (which could also cause hearing loss), and the doctor made the point that it would be incredibly painful. As much as a broken rib hurts, at least it’s a remote possibility that it’s damaged anything permanently.

The doctor told him that hopefully he’s learned his lesson to stop stifling his sneezes. And, especially, he isn’t supposed to stifle while his rib is recovering. Of course, it’s right in the middle of allergy season and a rib fracture can take up to three months to fully heal, so… that’s going fantastically.

Choromatsu is miserable at the moment. Not only is his hayfever as bad as ever, all the pollen has apparently made him more sensitive to other allergens, too. He can barely stand to be in the same room with any of Ichimatsu’s cats, and he has to make it a point to avoid his father when Matsuzo comes in the house after smoking.

Even though he’s supposed to get a little activity in while resting enough not to aggravate the fracture, that’s hard to do when it feels like he’s sneezing his brains out. All he really wants to do is go horizontal and nap as best he can, but the paper the doctor sent him home with says he’s not supposed to lie down for long periods.

The antihistamines he took this morning are barely even touching his allergies today. Everything is constantly tickling his nose, and it feels like he can’t go five minutes without sneezing, which is absolutely ridiculous. Despite that he’s a pretty easily set-off person where allergies are concerned, he doesn’t ever remember sneezing so much in his life.

And fuck, the pain. Each sneeze sends a violent spiderweb of agony through his chest and shoulders, as if someone is stabbing knives at every single nerve in his upper body. It’s one of the worst physical sensations he’s ever felt. If he had to use anything as a reference, he’d compare it to appendicitis pangs, just in a different place and pattern and not quite as white-hot.

He’s so tired. He’s been spending the last few days camped out on the couch, getting up in the early hours of the morning both because having to sleep upright means that he only rests for two or three hours at a time and because he’s trying to avoid lazing around. Not moving seems to make the pain worse.

Currently he’s sitting here, trying to watch TV, unable to truly focus on anything. The effort it’s taking to try and stave off another sneezing fit is about all he’s got left in him, but he knows he’s just delaying the inevitable.

His sinuses are prickling, and when he raises his arm to press a knuckle against the underside of his nose, the pain in his chest gets a little tighter. There’s only so much longer he can hold this stupid shit back, as uncomfortable as he knows it’s going to be.

His concentration breaks into nothing about the time he hears the door open. He can’t really see who’s there, though, because he’s ducking down into his handful of tissues as he hears them walk in. “HhhPSCHH! HuUPPSHhhoo! IhhHPSHHooo!”

Shit. Ugh. Shit. Shiiiiit. The pain shoots through him in an instant, like he can feel the crack in that one rib throughout his whole body. More than anything he wishes he could stifle.

Realistically, however, he knows that would only make things worse. The force that’s actually coming out through his sneezes would have nowhere to go except to his chest and ears, again, and he’d be in more trouble than he already is.

He tries to blow his nose a couple times, hoping that might clear out the irritation. If he does that, maybe he’ll stop sneezing so much and the pain will give him a break other than the one in his rib.

“Bless you,” comes a voice he registers as Ichimatsu’s. He sounds kind of congested and a little weary himself, expected since all the sextuplets have bad hayfever and it’s been a high pollen day. “Still sneezing your ass off, Choro-chan?”

Choromatsu sniffles as he comes up from the tissues, wincing at the pain. “Ow… yeah. It’s like a-all my allergies are ganging up on me today.”

Ichimatsu hums, sitting down before letting out a sound of realization. “Oh, fuck. I’ve probably got cat hair all over my clothes… you, uh. Want me to―”

“No, no, no… it’s okay.” He waves a hand. What does it really matter, honestly? It doesn’t seem like his allergies are kicking up his asthma today, and he’s been sneezing regardless, so it’s not a big deal. Besides… sleeping in such a weird position out of the futon… he’s been a little lonely lately. “I just… wish it didn’t hurt so bad, more than anything.”

The distorted expression he’s sporting must be pretty noticeable, because Ichimatsu speaks up again. “Uh. Did they teach you how to do the pillow thing for that?”

An eyebrow goes up, and Choromatsu reaches for a fresh handful of tissues. “For what? Pillow thing??”

“Yeah, I’ve seen it on medical documentaries when somebody breaks a rib and has to cough or sneeze. It’s supposed to make it hurt less.”

“― HuhUPPSHHoo! HhPPPSHH! Oh, fuck, ouch…” He looks over at his little brother, the fatigue and discomfort seeping into his expression. “Yeah… can you show me? Nobody at the doctor’s office mentioned it.”

Ichimatsu nods and grabs the pillow on his side of the sofa. “They probably just forgot. Here, so you just take this…” He scoots himself closer, tongue poking out of his mouth as he uses one hand to move Choromatsu’s arms. “Here, arms out of the way for a second. Okay, so you just…” He sets the pillow against Choromatsu’s chest, then moves his arms away. “Then hold it there with your hands. And when you feel like you’re gonna cough or sneeze, press it really firm against your chest, not so it hurts but… I dunno, kinda like the way you’d cuddle a stuffed animal if you were a scared little kid, you know?”

That… is very specific and yet he knows exactly what Ichimatsu is trying to describe. “Oh, like…” Choromatsu shifts himself around a bit so he can hold the pillow against his chest. It doesn’t feel too much different than a minute ago; there’s just something soft against his ribs now.

“Yeah. And hold it like that till you’re done coughing or sneezing. Or, I mean… laughing, actually, too, ‘cause I think I remember hearing it hurts to laugh with a broken rib. When you’re pressing it against your chest like that, it’s supposed to absorb some of the force… that way it doesn’t hurt as bad.”

“Oh… I-I guess that makes sense.” After all, it’s sort of like an airbag in a car, isn’t it? Or like putting a bandage on your finger over a papercut. It gives a kind of cushion to the injured area so it isn’t as painful when touching things.

Fuck. His nose scrunches up as he can feel the tickle start again. Time to put this to the test, obviously.

It’s a strange balancing act trying to keep everything just as he wants it. One arm stretches across the pillow, doing his best to hold it against his chest as tightly as he can. The other hand quickly raises the tissues up to his face in anticipation.

The maddening part, or one maddening part, is that he can feel his nose twitching several times before anything actually comes of it. His breath hitches only to ebb away in three false starts, then finally…

His whole body tenses when he snaps his face down into his collection of tissues. Some of his energy is focused on trying not to make too big a mess, and with the rest of it, his arm clenches against the pillow, pressing it lightly into his ribs to see if this trick works.

“Hhhh…fuhhh… hh ― hhPPSHHoo! IhhPSHHH! HihhPPTSCHhooo! HhPTSHHH! IhPSHHHoo! HiIPPTSHHooo! G-God… ughhh… uhHPPPSHHHHOOO! Fuck! Oh, my God…”

He can’t stop himself from whining a little when the fit finally tapers off. And, unfortunately, he thinks finally, but… the reality is that it was actually on the smaller side for one of his sneezing fits, especially during hayfever season.

The good news is that even though the pillow thing wasn’t perfect, it didn’t soak up all the pain… it worked wonders for taking the bitter edge off things. This time, the sneezes didn’t send an entire network of pain flooding through his top half, just a sharp achy feeling. It’s not nearly as excruciating as the way it was before.

Immediately he starts to blow his nose, only to find that the tissues he grabbed got… soggy… pretty fast. It seems that Ichimatsu is prepared, though, because a new set are nudged against Choromatsu’s shoulder. “Bless you. That last one sounded like you were gonna jump out of your fucking skin. You okay?”

“Y-yeah… I think so…” He grabs the tissues to try and clean himself up, tossing the used ones into the trashcan. Despite being a bit breathless now, he’s flooded with relief that this was the first time in a while that it didn’t hurt like hell to sneeze.

Ichimatsu gives a careful, slightly awkward pat to his big brother’s shoulder. “So, uh… did that… did that work okay? If it didn’t, uh, we could try another pillow… a stiffer one, or a softer one… it depends on the person, I think.”

He shakes his head. “A-ah, no… no, it worked great. I feel a lot better.” With that he lets himself lean back a little, rubbing at his nose with the wad of tissues. Ick. He can feel his nose starting to turn pink or red or some other lovely shade. “Thanks for showing me that, Ichimacchan. I’m probably gonna be sneezing a lot, and… the doctor said a broken rib can take up to three months to heal…”

“Uh. Yeah. I mean, all the sneezing from allergies is shitty as it is… it must be, like… extra shitty for your ribs to stage a fucking revolt every time, too.” He scratches the back of his head. “Is, uh… is there anything else I can do? Do you need, like… eyedrops or anything?”

“No… no, that’s okay.” At the mention, Choromatsu can feel his eyes starting to itch a little. He’s going to try to ignore it, though. Right now, he has the ideal opportunity to nap ― the pain is fading to tolerable levels, the tickle is his nose has died down to a low buzz, and one of his brothers is here. He might actually be able to get some sleep.

“Could you, um… just stay and sit with me for a while?” He lets out an anxious laugh, half thinking Ichimatsu might poke fun. “I… haven’t been sleeping that great since I can’t be in the futon with you guys. I’m tired.”

Surprisingly (or maybe not), Ichimatsu moves close again, bumping Choromatsu’s shoulder with his. “Yeah? Remember when my leg and wrist were broken, and I got all stupid upset because I couldn’t sleep in the futon? And you slept propped up against the couch so I wouldn’t be lonely. I get it.”

He lays his head against his older brother’s shoulder. “Payback time. Try to relax. Hopefully that pillow thing keeps working for you… just, let me know if you need more tissues or anything.”

… Aw. He’s trying kinda hard to make sure I’m comfortable.

Still feeling kind of drained, Choromatsu lets his head fall against Ichimatsu’s with as deep a sigh as he can manage right now. “Thanks. I’m… probably gonna hold it like this, just in case. Sometimes they hit me really fast.”

“Yeah, I know. Get some rest, okay, nii-san?”

At this point, he thinks he will.

[aashiqeddiediaz]

9-1-1: Season 3 Episode 15 Live Blog

I’ve tagged this like 3 times for spoilers so don’t come for me lmao

EDDIE BEGINSSSS. WE’RE HERE FOR THAT.

Forgot to liveblog part of it lmao.

I CRIED WHEN EDDIE CUT THE CORD. IT HASNT EVEN BEEN 30 SECONDS

Wow I hear that spite in Shannon’s voice. honestly can’t blame her BUT also kinda can?

The necklace 😭

SOPHIA AND ADRIANA. Love it!

Why does Ryan have to force himself to act with his female love interests. What is going on.

Maybe I’m projecting LMAO

LOOK AT EDDIE GO

Buck my little baby

Eddie looks so fondly at Buck literally wtf is Ryan talking about

Evan Buckley is incapable of looking at Eddie Diaz with anything less that pure unadulterated love and I stand by that.

Hell if they just HELD HANDS, I would be more than happy.

Christopher is the light of my life omg

Those flashbacks, the slight dimming of Eddie’s smile...😭😭😭

Buck 😂😂😂😂

BATHENAA crumbs

EDDIE FOLLOWING THEM CLUES? OUT OF WHICH ONE IS A TANKER?

This baby :( Hayden :(((

Eddie is literally so sad maybe I love him a lot.

BUCK COMING FOR THE GUY WHO’S PULLING THE PLUG. I’m here for that! 

I’m here for Eddie taking the lead dear LORD he’s adorable

Defending Jacob! OH IT’S THAT PROMO

“Christopher’s a priority so you should stay home with him” okay but here’s the thing

Eddie holding a young Christopher 😭😭😭

She left him crying!

“You’re not the only one that feels alone.” my baby :((((

Not saying Shannon was wrong, but people really do not understand the horrors soldiers see...

30 minutes that I’m gonna die in

HE WAS RIGHT THERE.

Eddie cutting the line completely! That’s definitely me but HOW ARE THEY GONNA GET DOWN THERE NOW. EDDIE.

he really cut the cord twice in one episode, huh?

The 118 looking like their world just shattered and honestly? Same.

Buck’s expression of pure panic :/ watch me turn this into pure whump LMAO

Him kissing that locket I’m...

OH MY GOD. MY ADHAAN. I HEAR MY CALL TO PRAYER

and naturally there’s another song. Why can’t they just let us enjoy it.

SHIT THAT MISSILE.

they turned it into a stereotypical thing again. naturally. Why can’t we catch a break already.

But eh. It’s fine. It’s fine

HE WAS SHOT IN THE SHOULDER?

Was he the leader? Literally everyone keeps calling for him.

HE WAS SHOT IN THE WRIST TOO?

maybe I’m crying so hard

3 bullets, BROKEN BONE, dislocated shoulder

STAFF SERGEANT DIAZ

That acting :(

Hands down one of my favourite scenes of Eddie ever.

“Daddy can be a hero in the kitchen.” 😂😂😂

There’s that huge adjustment period, and we can see it in Eddie’s behaviour, which is amazing on Ryan’s part.

Grant’s Christopher looks exactly like a younger Gavin’s Christopher

CHIMNEY AND EDDIE YES! That’s another Dynamic Duo I’d love to see more of tbh.

NO. NO. THEY DIDN’T DO THAT

BUCK. BUCK’S ANGUISH IS MY OWN.

Oliver is an AMAZING, UNDERRATED actor, and you can see that in that scene because he’s not concerned about appearances. He genuinely flips out, first one off the ground because the love of his life his best friend is stuck down there. 

Buck would NEVER give up on Eddie. EVER.

We got so fed tonight omg.

Eddie’s parents...I just :( I understand it but :(

Oh it’s that jean jacket!

What three jobs do he be working?

“I miss you all the time” - the light of my life

No, no no. Don’t do this. If this show does this, I’m literally going to...

All these flashbacks of Buck and Christopher? I just...

Okay don’t come for me. but literally 70% of those flashbacks were of Buck and Christopher

It Tim Minear does this to me I’m literally going to commit a crime I can’t come back from.

YES. FIGHT TO COME HOME TO YOUR FAMILY.

HE CAME OUT. BY HIMSELF. YES.

Buck looks like two seconds away from losing it entirely

“Won’t be easy” and then Buck just running for him? YES.

Buck is smiling so hard with relief at seeing Eddie and I-

Eddie literally does everything for his son and I can’t breathe.

I wish we’d gotten a scene of Eddie getting back home and just...desperately hugging Chris tight. but since we didn’t I’m gonna write it lmao

Ryan did PHENOMENAL in this episode. Especially that scene with in the makeshift hospital!

Kudos to all the actors but special mentions to Ryan, Gavin and Oliver honestly. 

That’s a family right there (Eddie, Chris and Buck)

[skellymom]

😭❤️

@codywanfirstkissbingo: kiss of life

It shouldn't be like this. He had plans. Dreams.

He'd thought of a gentle kiss shared one late night when the hum of companionship and longing looks spilled over. Lips tasting of herbal tea and ration bars.

Or, hidden away in a dark corner of Coruscant on a rare shore leave, they'd find comfort in giving into what they've both wanted for so long. Hands tangled in hair, remnants of their meal licked from blisteringly hot mouths, not a care in the world.

Perhaps they'd wait till after the war. Reach for one another amidst cheers and find joy and relief in their embrace and long awaited kiss.

Instead, he presses his lips to Obi-Wan's for the first time and does his best to breathe life into unresponsive lips and lungs. He can't ignore the acrid taste of blood and ash. There's nothing but terror and heartache lancing his chest.

'Not like this', he thinks, a hot tear running down his cheek. 'Please, stay with me.'

(bingo card under the cut)