#which is especially scary for when I move somewhere knew and don’t know anyone

[m-a-d-e-l-e-i-n-e]

This is embarrassing but like genuinely as an adult how do you actually Make Friends. Especially as a socially anxious person.

[karatekels]

Scream For Me – Chapter 1:

We’re back in the Fresh Start-verse for this one! I’ve missed this Terry and Reader (and Victor) so much! 😭

This is going to be a two chapter arc, and while there shouldn’t be anything bad in this one, the next post is going to be DARK. I hope you like it!

No real trigger warnings for this part (maybe some vague plotting), but the next part will be full of them, so don't get invested in this if you don't think you'll want to read that sort of thing.

---

“He ended up beating the kid I had handpicked as my champion in Sudden-Death. John was devastated, and he disappeared – I never saw him again after we lost the tournament. And it… it ruined me, Y/N,” Terry confesses to you with a pained, faraway expression, his head resting on your lap while he sprawled across the rest of the sofa in your bedroom.

You look down at him with sad eyes, running your fingers through his silver-white curls soothingly. It wasn’t often that Terry opened up to you about his past like this – he was content to leave it behind him where it belonged, especially since it could stir up unpleasant memories for awhile afterwards – and you always cherished the moments when he was willing to share with you, no matter how the stories might hurt you both.

“I hit rock bottom, lost myself, sent my first company into a nosedive, nearly lost everything that four generations of my family had worked to build up, nearly overdosed more times than I can remember…” he trails off, his pale blue eyes wide and staring up into yours. You move your hand from his hair to stroke the side of his face, smiling softly down at him. His eyes flutter closed before he turns his head to the side, nuzzling his face against your palm and breathing deeply.

“But all of that was worth it, now that I know that working through it would ultimately lead me to you,” he murmurs, and your heart melts, the way it always did when Terry was particularly sweet and open with his feelings for you, even a year and a half later.

“…Even if I truly don’t deserve you.”

You let out a weary sigh; you hate hearing him speak about himself like this, like none of the work he had done to become the man you knew and loved mattered in the long run.

“I wish you wouldn’t say things like that, Terry. You are the most wonderful man, and it hurts to hear that you don’t see it.”

“Did you miss the part where I psychologically tortured a child into bloodying his knuckles? And laughed about it?” he snorts derisively, dismissing your attempts to defend him.

“There were so many other factors that caused you to make those decisions, love. And even if that was the man you were, it isn’t the man you are now, and he’s the one I fell in love with,” you counter, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. “You are sweet, and kind, and generous, and considerate, and I count myself lucky everyday that you foolishly chose to love me back.”

“You are far too forgiving, my dear,” Terry informs you, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek. “I doubt you’d feel the same way if you had been around to see me do any of the terrible things I’ve done.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you say with a shrug. “I really can’t picture it at all.”

“Which part are you trying to picture?” he asks. “I assure you, it’s all still buried somewhere inside of me.”

“I can’t picture any of it, really. Breaking into that old man’s home, hurting anyone… I can’t picture you being scary at all, to be honest,” you confess, tossing your head back with a warm laugh.

Terry bolts upright, moving to sit on the other end of the couch to face you, and gives you a look.

“What?”

You cock your head at him, wondering at his reaction. “What?”

“You don’t think I’m scary?”

You try to look at him with a neutral expression, but can’t help but burst into a fit of giggles at how offended he looks right now.

“No! Should I?” you ask jokingly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“No,” he admits grudgingly. “But you should know that I can be!”

Trying to quell your laughter, you crawl across the couch to him, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck, moving your head to try to catch his eye; he is stubbornly avoiding your gaze, like a petulant child.

“I’m sorry, Terry!” you tell him, genuinely not wanting to hurt his feelings or his sense of masculinity; he demonstrated the latter in dozens of other ways than being scary…

“I know that you are big, and strong, and could kick someone’s ass with one hand behind your back, and that you’ve got this big, dark past… but in my eyes you’ll always be a big teddybear.”

He gives you a dark, brooding look, and remains silent.

“Ter-ry!” you whine. You hate when he gives you the silent treatment. “It’s not a bad thing, not being that person anymore. It doesn’t make you any less of a man or anything.”

“Oh, I am fully aware of how much of a man I am, Y/N,” he sneers at you crossly, standing up with you still wrapped around him and stalking from the seating area over to the bed, tossing you onto the mattress unceremoniously. “Let me show you…”

---

Terry’s POV:

Terry splashes his face with water from the bathroom sink, patting himself dry with a towel and gazing at his reflection in the bathroom mirror with a frown.

You had called him a teddybear…

It almost made Twig sound macho by comparison.

He had worked hard on himself for decades to stop being the cruel, vindictive man that relished in passing on a fraction of his deep-seated traumas to others. He had tried to atone for his sins, contributing to charities and getting out of the toxic waste industry. He had spent endless hours in all sorts of therapy, getting over the War, addiction, his parents’ deaths, John…

None of this meant that he was no longer able to strike fear – Strike first. Strike hard. No mercy. – into anyone who dared to cross him the wrong way. That part of him, while it had laid mostly dormant over the years, still lurked within him, coiled and ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

He was still Terry Silver, and all that that entailed. He could still get his hands dirty, still fight, still drag information out of someone, one way or another…

Still kill, if he had to.

How could you not know that?

Perhaps he had gone too far in his rehabilitation, had hidden away some of the core parts of him a little too well.

But they were still there, even if you had never seen them. Maybe it was time that you did…

He slinks out of the bathroom, picking up his clothing and dressing silently, staring at you the whole time and seething. You are passed out in bed, looking thoroughly ravished, as you should, your hair a wild mess and your skin covered in fresh love bites. Serves you right for underestimating him, in his opinion. And the pounding he had just given you was nothing compared to what he is planning now; you would never question his abilities again. You would never question him again.

He loves you so much.

Enough to let you see all of him, even if you don’t want to face the truth.

Now fully dressed, he turns and slips out of the master bedroom, immediately pulling out his phone and making the call before he’s fully closed the door behind him.

“Sir.”

“I need to speak with you, Victor. Where are you right now?”

“Surveillance room on the ground floor, Sir.”

“Stay put. I’ll come to you.”

He ends the call, immediately sweeping through the house to Victor’s office at the other end of the mansion. The door opens as he approaches, and he sees himself in one of the monitors over Victor’s right shoulder.

The man was very good at his job.

“What can I help you with, Mr. Silver?” Victor asks the moment he closes the door behind Terry, straight to business as usual.

“Two nights from now, from say… 9 o’clock until noon the next day, I want everyone out.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

“Including you, Victor.”

There is a pause as Victor contemplates this requirement in silence. Terry knows that the man is particularly protective, and takes his job very seriously. It’s what Terry pays him so well for, after all.

“That… shouldn’t be a problem,” he concedes after a moment.

“I’m going to need all security devices disabled during that time, and the phone lines jammed, with the exception of my personal number.”

Victor stares at him as though he’s lost his mind. Perhaps he has.

“Would you like to tell me what the hell this is all about?” he demands. Terry wouldn’t tolerate any other employee speaking to him in such a way, but Victor was far more than just an employee. He had proven himself time and again, and become the closest confidante (aside from you) that he’d had since Margaret.

Hell, there were things about him that even you didn’t know, but Victor did.

“Nothing sinister,” Terry purrs, smiling wickedly. “It’s a… surprise, for Y/N.”

“What’s the occasion, Boss?” he asks, still skeptical. Terry levels him with an indignant look.

“She said I wasn’t scary, Victor.”

“Oh. Oh. Poor girl,” Victor mumbles, chuckling darkly at the implication of his words.

“Thank you, Victor.”

Victor has quite the soft spot for you, but your relationship is still antagonistic, if light-hearted. While he in no way wants to know the specifics of the dark and depraved acts Terry is sure he is imagining, anything that involves you being taken down a peg or two is more than enough justification for him to get onboard with whatever Terry has planned.

“What do you need from me, then?” Victor asks, back-to-business.

“A guarantee that everyone is out by nine without her noticing, and that no one whispers a word of this to Y/N. I’ll need you to handle the staff and sweep the place before leaving yourself; she’s going to think I’m out of town for a few days.”

Victor snorts at the lengths he’s going to, but doesn’t say a word against them; he knows better than that.

“Aren’t you worried she’s going to, I don’t know, kill you after all of this?” he asks, half-joking.

As the maniacal grin spreads across his face, Terry feels like a snake shedding its skin, and is deeply pleased by how easily this side of him is showing itself again. He knew it had always remained inside of him, but this was reassuring nonetheless.

“I’m not concerned about her reaction at all.”

---

You find him in his armory of Japanese weapons on the second floor some time later, lured by the sound of him whistling. He is absent-mindedly looking at his collection of daggers, finding the violent side he has awakened in himself temporarily appeased with handling the blades.

“You certainly seem chipper,” you comment in a husky voice, a seductive sway to your hips as you approach him, still rumpled from earlier. “What could be the cause of that, I wonder?” you ask teasingly, wrapping yourself around him.

His silly, foolish woman.

You have no idea what you’re in for.

“What indeed?” he replies coyly, kissing you on the forehead. He couldn’t give you cause for suspicion for the next day or so; it wouldn’t do to ruin the surprise.

You giggle, staring up at him so sweetly. A part of him feels bad that he’s going to break you.

But the rest of him doesn’t.

“Whatcha doing?” you ask, still pressed up against him.

“I was waiting for someone to wake up,” he replies with mock-exasperation, grinning down at you. He had forgotten how fun it was to be deceptive, to wear a mask of what someone wanted to see and lie straight to their face.

“I forgot to tell you; I have to go away for a couple of nights. It was supposed to be later in the month, but my meetings have been bumped up.”

“Anywhere fun?” you ask, clearly fishing for an invitation to accompany him. He did love you blowing him as they flew in his private plane…

“Vancouver,” he replies smoothly, raising a brow at you.

You had come to hate the rain; L.A. had spoiled you.

Sure enough, you grimace, and he internally crows in victory.

“Pass,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“But that’s so soon!” you complain, pouting at him. Terry silently vows to have this bratty image of you in mind when he’s got you pinned face down a few nights from now; he adores it (he adores all of you), but can’t deny that making this side of you beg for mercy would be particularly delicious.

“I know, darling. We’ll have to make the most of the next few hours, won’t we?” he soothes, giving you a warm smile that makes you melt.

Later that night, when he’s packing for his ‘trip,’ he slips one of the daggers into his suitcase. The rest of his… supplies would be purchased once he left.

---

Two days later…

Reader’s POV:

Terry has only been gone for a day and a half, but you still miss him terribly. While you had become far more comfortable here over the last year and a few months, it still felt strange when Terry wasn’t at home with you. He made this place feel warm and inviting; He was your home.

You still hadn’t been able to get used to having the staff members around, looking to you for instructions or guidance when Terry wasn’t around, but they had mostly learned to leave you to your own devices if Terry was away. They made the house feel less lonely, at least, just by their presence.

You have been relaxing in the bathtub for quite awhile now, and decide it’s about time you went to bed. Draining the tub, you towel yourself off, feeling deliciously warm and relaxed, and slip into a pair of comfy pyjamas. That was one nice thing about Terry travelling without you, at least. You had long since stopped wearing pyjamas to bed since moving in here; they never stayed on the whole night anyway.

As you brush your teeth, you look across the bathroom counter for your phone, frowning when you don’t see it. You move over to the tub, checking around the edge of it – maybe you had brought it over while you were running your bath and had forgotten about it – but it isn’t there either. Strange… you swear you had taken it into the bathroom with you.

Shaking your head at your own forgetfulness, you finish getting ready for bed and leave the bathroom, momentarily distracted by the moonlight shining through the window. Walking over to it, you look down to the beach with a sigh; this view always made you think of the first night you’d spent here.

You return to looking for your phone. You had definitely wanted to charge it while you slept, and it would be nice to text Terry a quick ‘Goodnight!’. He was in the same time zone, after all.

The moonlight illuminates something, reflecting the white light and catching your eye, and you move over to it. A piece of thick cardstock, folded in half, sits on the coffee table. You’re surprised you didn’t notice it sooner, and pick it up with a smile.

When you had first moved here, Terry had left you little cards like these when he had to leave, full of sweet words and occasionally filthy promises. He hadn’t done this in ages, though…

You flip open the card, and recognize his handwriting, but instead of the lengthy message you anticipated, only one word is scrawled on the inside of the note.

Run.

[^ Him plotting with Victor over the phone once he leaves for his "trip"]

---

Maniacal little fucker. I love him.

Part 2 here!

[writingreadingdaydreaming]

ooohh what other omegaverse ideas do you have about roy keane?

I have many but I’m going to put them under a cut again because many of the themes surrounding him are very dark and I don’t want to upset anyone <3

Content warning for abusive relationships and miscarriage

So if you look on Wikipedia, it says that Roy Keane was forced into retirement due to ‘medical advice’. In omegaverse, that medical advice was that Roy was eight weeks pregnant.

Roy met his partner in 2002, just after the catastrophe with Ireland and Denis Irwin moving to Wolves (which will becoming relevant soon). His partner is extremely abusive. For the majority of their relationship, the abuse was fully emotional and Roy justified what he was going through by saying that his partner had never laid a hand on him so he can’t be doing something bad.

Then, in 2006, there’s an incident when Roy is 20 weeks pregnant with their daughter, and the abuse turns physical. It’s so severe that the police gets called, and Roy’s partner is arrested on domestic abuse charges. Roy stays with Denis for a few days while he sorts out somewhere to stay permanently (the house is being searched by police but even then, what happens leaves the house in disrepair so it’s basically unliveable).

Six days after, while he’s still staying with Denis, and he’s 21 weeks pregnant, Roy starts getting contractions. Denis calls an ambulance but unfortunately Roy suffers a late miscarriage in Denis’ bathroom. It’s unclear whether the physical abuse was the cause of the pregnancy loss, but Roy always maintains the fact that - whether physically through assault or psychologically through the stress he put Roy through - his ex-partner killed his daughter.

Roy doesn’t talk about it for a very long time. The only people who actually knew Roy was even pregnant (apart from Roy and his partner’s families) were Gordon Strachan (the Celtic manager when Roy retired) and Denis Irwin. It’s not until the 2020s, over a decade after, that Roy finally feels comfortable confiding in someone - that someone being Ian Wright.

Wrighty is honestly an angel for Roy. He deals with Roy’s sensitivities and short temper cause he knows what Roy has been through. Wrighty also helps Roy break down his wall a little bit, and feel comfortable engaging in omega-like activities like nesting. Wrighty gives him comfort, especially as a fellow mother, and even more so that Ian’s youngest son is the age that Roy’s daughter would’ve been had she survived. Ian is one of the only people that Roy has shown the few photos of him when he was pregnant to.

Also, side note, the first time Roy ever mentions what happened to him publicly is during the omega roundtable discussion if anyone remembers that.

Another person who helps him is Micah. It’s obvious natural that Roy has developed a distrust of alphas/beta men due to his abuse, but then Micah swoops in and shows that not all alphas are scary and hurtful and out to get him. Some can be gentle and kind and just in need of love - it’s important to note that in this AU, Micah doesn’t have a good relationship with his biological mother. Roy becomes a surrogate mother for Micah, as Micah becomes a surrogate child for Roy. They need each other, and heal each other in a sense.

Back to Irwin. Denis held a lot of guilt for a lot of his life surrounding Roy. He thinks that if he hadn’t have left Manchester for Wolverhampton, Roy wouldn’t have met his abusive partner, wouldn’t have had to go through nearly five years of torture, and wouldn’t have lost his baby. He just can’t forgive himself, even if Roy never blamed him in the first place. Denis was Roy’s unofficial ‘protector’, and he feels like he failed Roy.

It has a happy ending though! Ian manages to convince Roy to get into therapy, and Micah convinces him to get back in full touch with Denis, and eventually Denis and Roy rekindle their feelings for each other and they get married <3

That was waaaayyyyyy longer than I planned I’m sorry 😭

[brainexplosion375]

Take your lonely vitamins!

I wanna talk about being alone. I think the society that we live in makes going out alone or spending days on end without really connecting with anyone embarrassing? Being surrounded by people has become less about friendships and connecting and more about the validation we receive just by simply being seen with others. I don’t agree with that, I don’t think anyone really does but being alone is too scary to face head on. I made a friend a few months ago over facebook when I was going batshit crazy trying to find somewhere to live in a city I knew nobody in. She was going to be my roommate but credit approval got complicated and we decided to just go our own ways apartment hunting wise. She is also new to the city and we had gotten kind of close through our little online friendship so I had her on pretty much all the socials. I distinctly remember seeing her post about being at a bar. I was struck with jealousy a little bit because I just assumed she had already made friends to go out with upon moving here. But as I continued to scroll through the posts that captured her night, I realized she wasn’t with anybody. She had ordered her own uber, gone out alone, ordered her own drinks, sat by herself in the presence of strangers, and had an amazing time. This baffled me at first because the idea of doing that feels so taboo, but the more that I thought about it the more it made sense. If I feel like going to a bar because I have the most unbudgeable craving for an espresso martini (which I do get, often) then why wait around for the “ok” from someone else, just so I can feel less awkward about sitting at a bar? No, fuck that. So I tried it out for myself, I’ve been wanting to go out to this certain neighborhood in my city that's particularly LGBTQ friendly, we’re talking pride flags on every street corner. The downtown little bar scene there looked fucking adorable, and I just really wanted to see for myself, especially now that I’m 21 (woot woot happy belated to me).

I had to work at 7 am the next day so I left the house around 8, got really confused by some streets in the neighborhood and finally found some free parking. The first bar I went to I quickly realized was definitely catered towards queer women, which was honestly perfect. I walked in, looked around at some of the groups of people there and I did feel just slightly out of place but it was fine, I had told myself that I was going to order one drink and then mission accomplished. So, I sat at the bar and got ignored for a good 15 minutes, typically I have no problem addressing people when I need something but when you are out alone, everything feels ten times scarier and for some reason flagging down this bartender felt like the worst thing I could do at that moment. While I was waiting I looked over at these two girls sitting together enjoying fruity looking cocktails, we made eye contact and the social butterfly in me wanted to spark up a conversation but then I realized they were probably on a date and that wouldn’t be very appropriate. I think the bartender finally realized I existed so she took my order and the second the espresso martini that I had been fantasizing about all day was placed in front of me, I was reborn. I looked back at the couple of girls to my left, they were hitting it off, so I left that alone, but to my right was an older woman. Much older than me, I realized that when we we’re talking about nine eleven and “where were you when it happened?” She had been a senior in highschool. BUT one of the things that has helped me in my journey of being on my own is finding friends in anybody. We don’t have to be the same age, gender, orientation, any of that shit to have a beautiful friendship. So I did what I always do when I want to talk to someone. I complimented her dress, next thing I know it's been two hours and the bartender is taking away the chairs at the bar because they are opening the dance floor. Keighlley, if you see this, it was nice meeting you.

When you are prepared to face the world alone the possibilities suddenly feel like they become endless. It’s a part of becoming an adult. Are you ever just sitting at home or driving in your car and you have the sudden realization that you have 100% free will right now? You can literally do anything you want to. (Well, some things are more encouraged than others) I think about this a lot, it’s so easy to get stuck in a routine and feel like there are limitations to the things we can do with our days/weeks/months/entire lives. So, here I am, in a new city, surrounded by 1.4 million people. I'm the loneliest I’ve ever been, but that certainly doesn’t mean I'm unhappy. This post is turning out to be way more inspirational that I meant to it be but moral of the story, or as they say on Reddit, TLDR;

Don’t limit yourself for the sake of approval from others, it only exists in your head. Sometimes friends aren’t going to be on the same wavelengths as you, but don’t let that stop yours.

[yandere-daydreams]

Not-So-Scary Moments With The Yan. Genshin Boys.

Characters: Childe, Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Scaramouche, and Ayato.

Word Count: 3.1k.

TW: Borderline Shitposting, Imprisonment, Unhealthy Relationships, Mentions of Physical Emotional Abuse, and Slight Codependency.

Childe

“Ajax?”

He stalled in the doorway. “What is it, angelface?”

“I just wanted to ask…” You trailed off, fishing the empty glass vial out of your pocket. “Do you know what happened to my perfume?”

Childe turned away pointedly, dropping his eyes to the floor. Despite the dark sky, despite the raging snowstorm that’d only just let-up, he was fully dressed, his attention currently focused on his boots. “Nope. No idea. What’s perfume? Some new trend in Liyue?”

You hummed, leaning against the nearest wall. “I guess you won’t mind telling me where you’re going, then.”

“Oh, it’s uh— a mission! A big, secret mission, from the Tsaritsa herself.” He was a terrible liar, especially to you. His voice shook, he stumbled over his words, and his expression gave it all away – distracted, distant, vaguely pained in a way he couldn’t quite hide with a tense smile and a stilted laugh. “The messenger just left; you must’ve missed him. It’s very, very important, and very covert, so don’t ask me anything about it.”

“The Tsaritsa assigned you a mission personally? Out of all her harbingers, she came to you?”

“What can I say? She picks favorites.”

“And she sent out a messenger in the middle of the night, during one of the worst snowstorms of the season, to your cabin in the woods, miles out from the nearest village?”

“Happens all the time. You’ll get used to it, in a few months.”

“He came, told you everything you need to know about a mission so important you can’t tell me anything about it, and left while I was in the bath? Three rooms away? Which, by some miracle, was just far away enough for me not to overhear your conversation or notice we had guests at all?” You paused, taking a step closer and crossing your arms. “And none of this has anything to do with the fact that your breath smells like Inazuman Sakura Bloom?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again just as quickly.

“You were taking so long, and you locked the door, and—” He slumped forward, pouting. “It smelled so much like you. I thought I could get away with a sip, but I didn’t realize the bottle would be so small, and I didn’t know when you’d come out, and I knew it’d burn a little but I didn’t think it’d actually hurt that much—”

“Do you want me to walk you to the healer?”

“Yes, please.”

Zhongli

“Dearest.”

No response, predictably.

“My love.”

Silence, utter and complete.

“Darling, light of my life, precious and only gem of my heart,” He sighed, knocking softly. “Please, open the door.”

You didn’t move, doing your best to keep your voice steady, monotone. “Section D, Clause IIII, Item 2.”

There was a moment of quiet, followed by a slow, agitated exhale. “But I am your husband.”

“I am married Morax, Lord of Geo, God of Contracts. I don’t know anyone named ‘Zhongli’.” A useless point of contention, but one that was easy to dig your heels into, to grasp and hold onto and refuse to let go until his annoyance bordered on anger, until you were on the precipice of earning something more dangerous than his irritation. It was petty rebellion, more a reminder of your stubbornness than any meaningful show of defiance, but after spending so long by Morax’s (now Zhongli’s, you supposed) side, you’d learned that nothing frustrated him more than being forced to play by his own rules. “You were the one who insisted that I never share my bed with anyone but my rightful, legal husband. I’m sorry you didn’t take the time to consider the weight of your demands.”

“You’re being—” A low growl, soft and throaty. “You know very well that ‘husband’ is a situational title, and I’d still technically be considered—”

“What's that? Did you die and come back as the God of Technicalities—”

There was a sharp, sudden crack from somewhere above your head – a scaled, taloned fist breaking through solid wood like damp paper. You stepped back, clasping your hands in front of you, preparing to plead innocent, but the harshness of his scowl as he tore down what was left of the ill-fated door stopped you from voicing your naivety.

“I think,” He said, taking you by your robes, his glare only growing more bitter at the sight of your beaming smile. “it’s time that we re-assess the terms of our contract.”

Diluc

A sharp inhale, followed by an airy, hitched sigh. His back arched, briefly, then he bent forward, bracing himself against the mirror, resting his forehead against the glass. He tried to breathe, but it was shallow, hitched, more akin to a gasp than anything else, anything more substantial. He was flushed, his pale skin tinted red, and when he tried to straighten himself, to regain his dignity, he faltered quickly, failed even faster, his knees nearly buckling as he struggled to hold himself up, despite everything.

You loosened your grip on the corset strings. “…are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” He snapped, barely glancing in your direction. “Keep going. I only have a few minutes before I’m supposed to be downstairs.

Right. You could already hear distant voices from the first floor of his mansion, soft music playing just loudly enough to cover the sounds of whispered conversations and aimless footsteps. You weren’t sure what the party was for, or if it was actually a party at all and not a gala or a banquet, but you knew better than to pry for details. Asking would only make you want to go, and that’d only bring on another lecture, another scolding, another day kept at a comfortable distance from every other creature with a pulse, lest you allow yourself to be swept out of his oh-so-suffocating embrace. It was better not to try. It was better not to get your hopes up.

It was better not to wonder why you still had to help him get dressed, despite knowing you wouldn’t be leaving his bedroom for the rest of the night.

Mistaking your silence for confusion, he went on, bracing more of his weight on the mirror as he spoke. “It helps with—” A pained groan as you tugged, followed by a string of muttered curses, each more unbefitting than the last. “Fuck, it helps with back support. Have you ever tried to lift a claymore?”

“Would you ever let me?”

“When Teyvat freezes over, maybe.” One last pull, more forceful than it absolutely had to be, then the final knot, a simple bow just over the small of his back. He took a second to gather himself, to roll his shoulders back, to pull his coat on and check his reflection before starting towards the door, leaving you trying futile to rub the deep, stripped indents out of your palms. “I’ll be back in a few hours. Can I assume you’ll still be here to lend a hand?”

“I’m more than willing to take another stab at choking you half to death, if that’s what you mean.”

“I can only hope you succeed.”

“What?”

“What?”

Kaeya

He was later than he usually was, tonight.

By the time you head the door to his apartment unlock, it was already well-after midnight, hours past when he said he would return. You were perched on a loveseat, your back against the arm and your attention flickering half-heartedly between the novel in your hands and the window carved into the farthest wall, just big enough to provide a modest view of Mondstadt’s residential district. The streetlamps were just starting to burn out, windows dimming before going completely dark, and if you looked closely enough, if you stared long enough, you could make out figures, knights making their scheduled patrols, drunkards stumbling home from bars and taverns. You could see stray dogs wandering through alleys, hounding shopkeepers for spare scraps, and crystalflies circling lazily around the city’s tallest spires.

You could pretend Kaeya hadn’t already found you, that he wasn’t already stumbling towards you, struggling to keep himself on his feet. It took you a moment to process why his grin was so crooked, his eyes so glazed-over, his laugh so erratic as he tripped and fell to his knees in front of you, his face soon buried in your lap. When you finally reached your realization, it wasn’t a pleasant one.

Oh, Barbatos.

He was drunk.

Again.

And happy about it, too, judging by the way he nuzzled into your thighs, how he chuckled as you placed your book to the side and raked your fingers through his hair, tilting his head back, letting him lean into your palm and remember how to use his tongue. “Pretty baby,” He slurred, an arm wrapping around your calves, forcing himself that much closer to you. “Did you— Do you know that I love you?”

“Of course. You never talk about anything else.”

“And you know that I miss you, whenever I have to leave. You're all I ever think about. I’d open you up and crawl inside you, if I could. Live just underneath your skin, so we’d never have to be apart.”

Grisly, but not unexpected. Intoxication certainly made him more honest, but sobriety had always been something he only grudgingly subjected himself to, and you were no stranger to his visceral declarations. “I’m aware.”

“And?”

You glanced towards him. He was facing you, his expression hopeful, his visible eye bright. “…and?”

“And you love me too, right?”

You could’ve said no. He wouldn’t hurt you for it – he was a lot of things, but he wasn’t sadistic, wasn’t the type to maim what he aimed to covet. He’d be dejected, crestfallen, and he’d spend a few hours locked away with a cheap bottle of wine and only come out when he thought you’d fallen asleep, when he thought he could slip into your bed and hold you close without leaving himself vulnerable, open to attack. He thought he was above you, above your misery, above caring whether or not you returned his feelings, and in his current state, it wouldn’t take much to drag him down, to leave him sobbing in your lap, to prove that you hated him just as much as you'd always claimed to. You could’ve. You wanted to. He would’ve deserved it.

But, you didn’t.

You wouldn’t. Not tonight. Not when it was already so late, and you were already so, so tired.

Idly, you carded your fingers through his hair, raking your nails gently over his scalp. He grinned, in response, drinking in your affection, your gentleness. Acting as if you’d never dream of showing him anything else.

“Right.”

Xiao

“Is it done?”

“No, Xiao.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Xiao.”

“It looks done.”

“Well, it’s not.” The water was still boiling, the ingredients only just beginning to meld together in the pot, but trying to explain that to him was useless, a lecture delivered onto deaf ears. His scowl deepened, but he kept his hands on the countertop, his narrow gaze on to steam rising from the pot. “When was the last time you cooked something?”

“Cooking is a mortal pastime. Such indulgences are unnecessary for Adepti.” You could’ve figured that out on your own. It’d taken you weeks to convince him to add a decent kitchen onto his abode, another month to coax him into bringing you something other than withered flowered and bitter herbs to actually use in that kitchen. Even now, you could tell he was hesitant, reluctant to let you use a knife or let you get too close to the open flame. Honestly, you were surprised he’d kept as much distance as he had, resigned to pressing himself against your side rather than latching onto your waist and peering over your shoulder like some overprotective, hyper-vigilant bird. “Is it supposed to be doing that?”

“How long, Xiao?”

“Several centuries.”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, then batted his hand away as he reached for the bubbling water. “Be careful, alright? You might get yourself hurt.”

“You might. I can’t afford to be so fragile.”

“Whatever you say, oh great and mighty Alatus. Just try not to touch anything while it's still hot.” You pulled away, drawing back just far enough to lay your spoon over the rim and kiss his cheek – a small gesture of affection, fleeting and unsubstantial, but enough to keep him content and distracted while you moved to a cabinet along the opposite wall, to your meager supply of spices. He was stubborn, but not impossible, and with enough time, with enough promises and pleas, you could let yourself hope for something more, something less controlled. Fresh vegetables, exotic fruit, smoked meat and prime cuts of fish. A garden, even, if an adeptal realm was capable of that, if his hidden sweet tooth proved to be linked to his sparse sense of generosity—

Metal crashing against tile, water sloshing out and spilling onto the floor. A sharp cry, then a low growl, then your name called out, drawn into something cloying, something apologetic.

If you didn’t throttle him, first.

Scaramouche

“How did you get in here?”

You turned the object over in your hands, touching it with care, but doing what you could to show it as little reverence as you could. A ceramic heart, made of rough clay and painted sloppily, the red already peeling away around the harsh edges. You could remember buying it from a child’s stall in the commercial district, having the agent Scaramouche sent to keep an eye on you pay double the listed price, but you could’ve sworn he’d broken it, crushed it under his heel as soon as he’d found it – or told you he had, at least. You were sure. His threats tended to blend together until you couldn’t remember if you’d be caned or collared for refusing to let him rest his hand on your thigh. He could’ve been talking about something else. He could’ve been lying.

“The door was unlocked.” You brandished the heart, flashing it across his line of sight before returning it to its designated spot on his desk. On his desk, of all places. If you’d found it in the back of his wardrobe or lying on some over-crowded table in a room he didn’t frequent, you would’ve figured that he’d forgotten to get rid of it, set it down somewhere and didn’t deem it worth the effort of destroying. He received guests in his office, spent long hours discussing convoluted plans with minds just as twisted as his. You couldn’t imagine what it would've been like to sit across from the Balladeer, dark and sadistic and feared, and his little clay heart. “I didn’t realize you still had it.”

“My beloved brat isn’t exactly showering me in gifts.” The words were dripping with something vile and sardonic, too cynical not to make you cringe and turn away, eager to look at anything that wasn’t his unabashed sneer. “Is it so strange that I’m willing to take what I can get?”

You didn’t respond, not to that. Anything you might’ve said would only feed into his distorted perspective. “Do you still have the note?”

It’d been short, simple, the ink stolen from his personal collection and scrawled across paper you’d torn out from one of your books. ‘So Scaramouche might finally have a heart’, or something similar enough, a cheap stab at his past and his cruelty. You could’ve tried to be more clever, to come up with something more cutting, but you hadn’t expected it to matter, hadn’t thought you’d ever have to remember it again.

“Of course not. What kind of idiot do you think I am?” Needlessly cruel, but what else had you expected? He’d never been one for flowery language. “I’d be the laughingstock of the Fatui. Your behavior puts my authority in enough peril already.”

“Ah, poor thing. I didn’t realize my imprisonment was so inconvenient for you.”

“Greatly so.” He moved, stepped past you, allowing his fingertips to brush against your arm. You allowed him too, despite your better judgment. “If I had any sense, I would’ve tied you up and thrown you into the deepest trench I could find ages ago.”

“I’ll be glad I caught the eye of such a fool, then.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

Ayato

“I have an assignment for you.”

A gloved hand splayed over your collarbone, your chest, pushing you back, forcing you against the stone wall. He was close, too close, his body pressed against yours, his lips ghosting past your ear as he leaned forward, closing what little space between the two of you might’ve ever existed.

“I’d hate to ask anything of my favorite little assistant, but I’m afraid it’s of dire importance.”

Your eyes darted towards the entrance of the alleyway, towards the people walking past, unaware of what dwelled in the shadows. It was unlike him to try something like this in broad daylight – in the privacy of his chambers, perhaps, or the darkest corners of his estate, but not in public, not somewhere as crowded and as open as a marketplace. He’d never been one to hold his reputation in high regard, but he liked to keep his cards close to his chest, to limit his affection to wistful glances and chaste glances pushed into the backs of hands, nothing so unveiled, nothing so blatant. Nothing so telling, certainly.

“You see, I’m desperately in need of a favor, and I’m afraid you’re the only one I can turn to.” His fingers slipped beneath fabric, his mouth fell to the edge of your jaw, and you felt warm breath fan over your skin, the faintest hint of teeth against flesh. “I’m just not sure if I can turn to anyone else with my burden. You’ve always been so kind, and so patient, and—”

“For the Shogun’s sake, Lord Kamisato,” You cut in, planting your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away. “If there's another salesperson you want me to talk to, all you have to do is ask.”

Immediately, he deflated. “She’s just so—”

“She’s pushy, and you can never turn her down. I’ve seen you speak to her, my lord.”

“And she always asks—”

“She always asks about your day, but you don’t know how to answer, and you’re afraid you’ll start rambling. I’ll take care of it, my lord.”

He fell against you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I love you so much. I don't know what I'd do without you.”

“Pray you never have to find out, my lord.”

[absolutelyfizzing]

angels and demons

warren worthington x reader fluff

@shuckfaced-fangirl Hi! can I request a warren worthington x female mutant reader where her powers are shadow summoning? So I guess everyone in the school kind of views her as some sort of demon? With a lot of fluff? Thank you!!

Description - Y/N is a shadow summoner and is isolated from her peers. Warren helps her see that not everyone fears her and that she is worthy of affection.

warnings - its so fluffy. fem pronouns. some angsty stuff (isolation, depression, sadness), one innuendo, devastating fluff, warren being an angel. i tried to make it POC inclusive, please let me know if it feels restricting or excluding and i will edit it.

word count - 3700, i got carried away

A/N - im so sorry this took so long, i took a break from writing while i am working on moving to college. i will still be spotty for the next few weeks but hopefully, i will post a few more things in that time and then get back on a normal schedule. also, thanks so much for this request, i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope it is something you enjoy reading!

MASTERLIST

You walked through the halls with a lowered head. You knew that you made others uncomfortable and so you chose to try to make yourself as small and unthreatening as possible. You had been 'gifted' powers with which you could manipulate and create darkness. You were a shadow summoner. That wasn't a name that many found reassuring or comforting.

There were a few who could see past it and who was close to being what you might call friends but those people were few and far between. There were overwhelmingly more people who believed that you must have been a scary and mean person, that you were some sort of demon. This couldn't have been further from the truth if one were to look past appearances. Your shadow was larger and darker than that of your peers and it trailed behind you with a mind of its own, moving and growing without you even meaning for it to happen. Your hands were constantly covered in something darker and dustier than the rest of your skin, a deep and pure black. It trailed from the tips of your fingers and faded on your forearm so it looked as though you had just dipped your arms into a chimney or that shadows were crawling up your arms.

When you first got them, you thought they were sort of cool. They made you look sort of goth and that was fun. That feeling quickly faded when you saw how others, even your family, reacted. They said it was a curse from hell. You were barely convinced otherwise.

You sat away from others at the school during free periods. During lunch you sat alone and in the sun when you could, you hoped it might make others be less scared of you as it might make you look brighter but your shadow, dark and ominous, maintained a spot near you. You wore clothes that made you look more approachable to try to maintain that you weren't scary. Your brightly colored outfit didn't ever seem to work though, no matter how hard you tried.

You looked down at the food in your hands, the sandwich only half-eaten, and you noted your hands. They were so normal looking, your nails were well kept and you thought they were a good size. That they might even be a good size for someone to hold. The only thing was the unnaturally colored dust that seemed to cover them. It was a cool black, it glistened and sparkled in the sun when your fingers moved. It never moved or transferred to anything else, always stuck securely to your skin. You were distracted by the way your fingers seemed to shine when a shadow came near yours, wings outlined in it. You looked up to see a tall blond boy above you with curly hair and bags under his eyes. He nodded to a spot on the grass near you.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

You shook your head and even scooted away from the spot to give him more space despite the fact that you were in a large field.

"Do you want me to move?" You asked gently, wondering if maybe he wanted this particular spot and you took it from him unknowingly.

"I mean, I think that would sort of take away the whole point of me trying to sit with you." He smirked and you felt blood rush to your cheeks. "I like your hands" He hummed and you looked at him in shock. When his eyes met yours you tilted your head a bit.

"They don't bother you?" You tried to speak softly.

"No, I think they're awesome. They make you look punk." He smiled and you felt the corners of your mouth tug up a bit too.

"I like your wings." You almost mumbled as you allowed your gaze to move to the large feathery wings behind him. They moved in the wind and you found yourself wanting to run your fingers through them. "They make you look like an angel." You smiled and he groaned dramatically.

"I'm trying to look grunge." He pouted and you giggled a bit. At the sound, he looked up at you and blushed a bit. "Maybe we should trade."

"If I could trade you I would. Everyone is scared of how I look." You gazed back at the grass.

"I'm not." His simple statement made butterflies erupt in your stomach and you smiled a bit. You looked back at him and made eye contact for a moment.

"What's your name?" You asked and he maintained his gaze into your eyes. It was the most contact or conversation with someone else you'd had in a long time.

"I'm Warren." He smiled a bit and stuck a hand out to you to shake. You looked at his hand in shock. Nobody ever voluntarily touched your hands. Most of them worried that whatever was on them would spread. You hesitantly brought your hand to his, purposefully giving him plenty of time to remove his hand if he felt uncomfortable. But he didn't. Instead, your hand reached his and he shook it before letting go as if it was no big deal.

"I'm Y/N." You smiled a bit more and you felt a giggle come out of you from the joy of realizing this wasn't a dream, that someone was trying to talk to you and they weren't afraid.

"Is my name that funny?" He teased.

"No, I just-" you paused to think, "it's been so long since anyone has done this with me."

"Talked to you?" He questioned, obviously expecting you to say no and explain what you meant. Instead, you just nodded and his heart clenched for a moment. "Well, you can stick with me then."

"I don't know if you want your reputation to take a hit like that."

"My reputation is 'the angry and damaged kid', I'm sure it can handle the breaking news of me talking to a nice and pretty girl." He reassured before he even realized what he was saying. You could have cried at the feeling that rose up in your chest.

After that day, you stuck to his side like glue and he took no issue with it. The more you got to know him the more you appreciated the fact that he had taken you in. With his help, over the coming months, he helped you develop a stable friend group. That group included people like Ororo and Jane who had heard rumors about you and never bothered to check and see if they were real. They apologized profusely, especially Jean as she felt like she could have easily found out that you were kinder than she thought with her abilities but just had never done so, and you gladly accepted, just happy to be within a group.

You and Warren had developed a reputation. He was overly protective and gruff while you were overly nice and empathetic. You balanced each other well and if you were honest, you were in love with him. That always felt weird to say, you'd never been in love with anyone before but every second you spent with him made you more and more sure of your feelings.  

When you and Warren were together, you would daydream about what it would be like to be in a relationship with him. Being held by him and wrapped in his wings. Getting to play with his unkempt hair. Holding his hand.

Sometimes he would try to encourage you to hold his hand. He would hold it out to you when he was helping you jump down from somewhere high. He would ask you to hand him things and then make decisive contact as he took it from you. He knew that it meant a lot to you, you practically gasped and blushed every time he did it. He had never met anyone so touch starved. He wanted to give you all the affection that you craved.

Unfortunately, Warren was rather oblivious, especially towards things like feelings and emotions. He had no clue that you had any interest in him, even though he hoped you did every day. If he wasn't so attached to your friendship, he might ask you out. Instead, he tried to maintain a friendly distance so he didn't cross any lines while also being as affectionate with you as he could be. You followed a similar path.

The person caught in the middle of this was poor Jean Gray. she had watched you pine over each other since you met and had heard every thought that went through both of your heads. She knew you would never complain or ask for help about anything so she liked to keep tabs on your thoughts every once in a while to make sure you were okay. Still, she tried her best to not listen very often or when you were thinking about anything very personal, she honestly did. But she was a romantic. All she wanted was for you two idiots to get together but you were both oblivious. She decided, probably 3 months into you becoming friends, that she had to do something about it.

She was sitting on your bed while you sat across your bedroom on your small couch. She fiddled with her thumbs while she tried to ignore your constant thoughts about Warren, his hands, his wings, his smile. She was exhausted. she took a small breath while she planned how she would try to say this to you.

"Do you want to know what I heard today?" She called and you looked up at her from the book you were pretending to read.

"Do you mean heard or 'heard'?" You laughed and she rolled her eyes.

"Either." Then she tilted her head. "Both."

"Yeah, I wanna know! What's it about?" You asked while leaning forward in your seat. Jean always had the best gossip to tell because she could literally hear it.

"Warren." She stated simply and watched your reaction. You flushed and stopped breathing for a moment.

"Wha-" you stuttered, "what about him?"

"That he has a thing for you." she winked and you flushed even more.

"You're lying." You assured, a questioning look on your face.

"I'm not and I'm tired of watching you two longing after one another while the rest of the school watches." She smiled and your heart picked up.

"I thought I told you not to look in my head!" You scolded but you weren't actually all that upset. You knew that it was very hard for her to control.

"I cant help it! Both of you think so loud. And I wouldn't have to anyway, Ororo mentioned it to me the other day and she definitely cants read minds." She giggled and you smiled a bit.

"Does he actually like me?" You almost whispered in disbelief.

"Yes! He's been obsessed with you since you started talking."

"But like he would want to actually go-"

"Y/N, I swear to god. If you don't go and talk to him right now I'm going to have a fit." She laughed and you glared at her.

"Okay okay fine, I'm going," you grumbled as you stood and walked toward your door. "If you are wrong I'm gonna be so upset with you."

She just laughed again and you started to walk down the hallway. You thought he might be in his room or outside. You decided to check his room first.

You knocked on his door but you were met with silence. You tried the handle and it moved.

"Warren?" you paused, "I'm coming in," you warned and pushed the door open. When you looked inside, he wasn't there. You took a moment to gaze around his room, it wasn't the first time you had been in there but every time was a bit exciting as you got to see all of the things he had that represented him. He had a boombox and a CD collection on his dresser. Some of his clothes were thrown around his room haphazardly and some of his drawers were open. You looked at the wall next to you where he kept photos that you took. You would carry around a camera or take pictures on your phone of everyone around campus. He always asked for them and then printed them out so he could hang them up. He had even managed to get a couple of you. You smiled a bit before heading back into the hallway, closing the door behind you.

You instead moved towards the door to get out onto the lawn where you thought he would probably be. He often sat under the big oak trees or on the roof if he wanted to get away from people. When you made it outside, you looked around for him.

"Y/N!" you heard him shout. You turned to look for him and saw his silhouette flying from the roof. You paused to admire him and his wings. He always looked so angelic to you. So powerful. You thought about how your power emanated darkness. That you would never appear angelic to someone and would more likely look like a demon. You looked down at your hands for a second, a habit you had when you were thinking about your powers. They sparkled a bit in the sun but it did little to quell the distaste in your mouth.

Suddenly there was a shadow in front of you that was not part of the darkness that surrounded you.

"Y/N?" he asked gently. "Are you okay?" he tried not to startle you. Being empathetic wasn't something that came naturally to him, but he tried extra hard around you. he noticed the way you were staring at your hands. The growth of your shadow as you thought about your powers more. He moved to touch one of your hands but you flinched back a bit. He brought his hand back and looked at you with concern. "Whats wrong, angel?" He asked lightly and you looked up at the pet name. He had started calling you that soon after you became friends. You thought it was out of irony but he really was convinced that you were some sort of angel. He also loved the way that your eyes would light up when he said it. You stared at him for a moment in silence.

"Do I scare you?" You asked quietly and your voice shook. He looked surprised by your question and you were surprised too. You didn't know why you were suddenly getting emotional. Why this was now all you could think about. Why it had to come up now when you were trying to express your feelings for him. Instead of responding he reached out to your hand, holding onto it when you let him, despite flinching away slightly. He started to walk, leading you toward the same tree you had met under. Once you both reached it he sat down and looked up at you, waiting for you to sit down too. You did, maybe a bit farther away from him than you needed to be.

"Do you think you scare me?" he asked genuinely and you took a second to think, looking back down at your hands which were now pulled back into your lap.

"I scare me," you stated simply and paused.

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know." You mumbled. "I think I freak everyone out. Including you I guess." Your voice was quieter than you meant it to be. you really hadn't thought about it in a little while. It had been on your mind plenty when you first started talking to him. You were extra conscious of not pushing him to be around you or near your shadow. You knew that he would move away if he needed to but you also had so many memories of everyone around you fearing you, running from you, telling you that you were a curse. Instead of responding he held his hand out in between the two of you, palm up. You knew that he was inviting you to take it but that he wouldn't push you to. Instead of taking it, you placed your hand near his on the ground and he left his next to yours, not trying to take it if you didn't want him to.

"You don't." He let out, sounding sure of himself and slightly pained. "You don't scare me." You looked at each other. He had tears in his eyes. He was never one to get emotional so you were surprised. "Do I scare you?" he questioned, already knowing your answer but trying to prove a point.

"Of course not." You sighed.

"You have a lot more reason to be afraid of me than I have to be afraid of you." he looked at your hand again. "I'm the one who has a rough history, I'm the one who is angry and has a reputation of being aggressive."

"But, Warren, your mutation is-"

"Mutation has nothing to do with it, Y/N." he sighed. "You have control over your abilities, I have control over mine. The only difference between us is our personalities and I have never had any reason to fear you or dislike you. You're the kindest person I know and everyone in your life who has let you think that there was something wrong with you was terrible. And that was on them."

Your hand reached for his and you laced your fingers together. He squeezed your hand and ran his thumb over the back of it.

"I love you." The words came out of your mouth faster than you could think and you sucked in a breath, almost hoping he didn't hear you. When you glanced up at him he had a gentle smile on his face. He brought the back of your hand up to his face and kissed it before placing it against his cheek.

"I love you too, Y/N" He reached out for your waist and pulled you toward his lap, giving you plenty of time to give him a sign that you were uncomfortable. Instead, you put your leg over his waist so you were straddling his thighs. You held one of his hands in between you and fiddled with his fingers, admiring how your hands contrasted with his. Somehow, him holding your hand made it seem less out of place. You almost felt pride.

You were suddenly surrounded by warmth and shadow, the sounds of the quad around you becoming muted. You looked up around you and his wings were wrapped around the two of you, closing you off into your own little world. You felt the urge to reach out to them but you had never asked. You had never seen him let anyone touch them and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Go ahead." your eyes snapped to his in shock.

"Warren, you never let any-"

"I want you to," he admitted and it was true. He had thought many times about asking you to run your fingers through his wings. He would never complain about it but they were a little high maintenance and also sensitive. He never let anyone touch them because most people weren't gentle or he didn't trust them. He knew though that you were the gentlest person on Earth and that he could count on you to be careful.

At his reassurance, you smiled a bit. You reached a hand out to the part of his wing next to his shoulder. You both gasped a bit when your fingers made contact. Warren was a bit surprised at how sensitive they were to your touch and it had been a long time since anyone but himself had touched them. You were entranced by how soft they were. The feathers were delicate and there were so many. You were very careful in how you moved your hand along his wing, looking at him often to see if he was uncomfortable. As you were carding your fingers through his feathers, one came out. You gasped slightly horrified that you had hurt him.

"Hey, it's okay!" he rushed out as he saw your panic. "They just sort of... shed sometimes." He almost seemed embarrassed. Feathers would come off occasionally and he would often have to brush through them himself to release all of the loose feathers, sort of like brushing your hair. He reached to pick up the feather and held it in front of you for you to take. You gladly did and you twirled it in your fingers. "Maybe sometime, if you wouldn't mind, of course, you could help me brush through them?" he asked quietly and you smiled.

"Yeah of course. They seem like they might be a lot of work." you were touched that he trusted you to do that and you thought about how hard it must be to take care of them by himself when they were so big and most of his wings were behind him.

"You should see what it's like to shower with them," he grumbled and then his eyes widened at what he had said. He hadn't meant it to be an innuendo but now he was worried he offended you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and you fell into a fit of giggles.

"I might have to take you up on that offer." Your gentle gaze made him blush. He had never felt this comfortable with anyone. This safe. He decided right then that he would do anything you ever asked of him.

After that day, you and Warren became the cutest couple at the school. You were opposites in multiple ways and your relationship was more wholesome than any of your friends could handle. You got more confident in yourself and your abilities and he allowed himself to be more vulnerable. everyone agreed that you were a match made in heaven.

[machinegunbun]

concept: so i know we think of colson as this really rough guy when it comes to sex, but what about soft!dom col where he's strict but caring, and maybe the reader even has a bit of a praise kink. ❤❤

Omg yess

word count: 1.3k

A/N: sorry theres not a lot of smut, my brain got to wandering and I didn't feel the horniest so maybe pt.2? tons of fluff tho and its good to be back :)

Okay, so.

I'm thinking maybe reader has a past that left them uncomfortable with intimacy, whether from a relationship or otherwise. They're still super into freaky shit, but they need to feel comfortable first.

Does that make sense? Like, they need that safety blanket there first.

So obviously at first meeting Colson was scary, because to an outsider (especially early kells) he's this chaotic, sex machine.

It's clear to everyone that Reader is obviously attracted to him, and they are. They love the idea of doing all this kinky stuff with him, and at first Colson being Colson comes on kinda strong with the flirting, which makes them a little nervous to pursue anything.

But, one day, reader is hanging out with the gang (I imagine she's friends with Ashley [ that is his assistants name, right? God, it's been so long ] ) Maybe they're at a restaurant, nothing fancy just something where you seat yourself, and everyone squeezes into a booth, deliberately leaving no room for Colson and Reader, pointing to a two seater across the way.

You sit just far enough away from the group that you're out of earshot, and you can see them peeking the heads up and around the booth to try and catch a glimpse of what you're saying.

It's awkward at first, you're expecting him to drop some flirtatious joke that makes you choke on your drink, but instead he asks you how you met (whoever you're connected to in the group.) You tell him the story and return the question. He opens up about the fact that they're a day one, and even tells you about some of the stuff they went through together, good and bad. It's the first time you'd seen Colson not crazy or off something. He wasn't kicking out a windshield or hanging from the roof by a metal beam, he just was.

It was then that you realized the difference between MGK and Colson baker, and that before today at this restaurant you'd never met the latter.

Colson was able to express himself a lot better than MGK ever seemed to, at least when it came to you. He inquired a lot about you as a person, but the moment was ruined when you were in the midst of exchanging deep personal stories and Rook shot his straw wrapper at Colson and it bounced off his forehead and into his drink. Colson stood to return the favor, his story completely abandoned.

You didn't get a chance to speak to him like that again until two weeks later, when you met up once again in his hotel room. You were both sat on his bed watching spongebob, waiting for Rook, Slim and Baze to return with the bucket of ice. It wasn't a secret to anyone what they were doing, it didn't take three grown men to find an ice machine.

You didn't mind though.

Colson made you a little less nervous now that you'd seen him as someone other than the party animal you'd come accustomed to on stage. He was actually pretty cool, and really funny when he wasn't stressing you out with his antics.

When you asked him if he would finish his story for you he looked surprised.

"Oh, wow. You remember that?"

"Yeah, of course I do. It feels like the first time I ever really got to talk to you." He seemed uncomfortable at first, but continued with his story nonetheless.

The conversation flowed effortlessly until you began talking about how you always found Colson so interesting. He did things that terrified you like they were nothing. You admired his grab life by the balls attitude, and somewhere along the way of your ranting you opened up about how nervous intimacy made you. How most of the time the only way you could ever get off was by masturbating.

You hadn't even brought it up with him in mind, but the relation clicked immediately for him.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry."

"No, it's really nothing," you laugh nervously "I think it's just anxiety, I dunno. I'm paranoid."

"No, no. I'm sorry for the way I always talk about you— To you." he corrected "I never realized it made you uncomfortable. You always seemed into it, but I should've been more considerate and I'm sorry. I never would have— If i'd known I was making you uncomfortable—" He rambled

"Colson, it's fine." You cut him off "I mean, I am into a lot of the same stuff as you, It's just... I tend to like the concept a lot more than the reality because I am worried, and I need to feel safe before I can even consider something like that."

Colson must've really taken the conversation to heart, because he treated you a lot differently after that. When he'd heard that his loud onstage personality made you a little nervous he was sure to cool it when he was around you. He made sure to address you directly more often when you hung out in groups, whether to joke with you or as a conversation starter. He hadn't realized how uncomfortable and ostracized you'd been feeling in the group aside from your connection to it, but he was determined to change that.

It took a little bit, but eventually you really were comfortable with him, even when he was acting wild. You realized that being an anxious person and being around someone loud like him that you didn't really know was a little off-putting. Large crowds were hard enough for you, but with constant abrupt movement and noise it only worked to make you more anxious. Once you knew Colson a little better it didn't bother you as much, and he even helped you to become a little more comfortable and a little less anxious.

So when you found yourself in his hotel room once again, finishing the tail end of a family guy episode, you decided to make your move.

You weren't really sure how to start. Not with Colson.

You managed to awkwardly snuggle your way into his side, to which he gladly obliged, but you both remained silent apartment from the episode flashing on the tv. Glancing up at Colson, he stared blankly at the TV, glimpsing down to you momentarily to see what you were looking at him for. Your eyes returned to the TV soon after, your hand finding its resting spot just above his XXX tat.

You could feel Colson's chest shake softly with laughter. You tried to remember what had just happened in the show, but you were so busy anxiously devising your master plan to seduce him that you completely blanked. You could feel your heart beating in your chest. All you wanted was for him to blindfold and tie you to the bed and fucking own you. Everything about him drove you crazy. From his voice to his tats to his eyes to that fucking hair. God, you wanted nothing more than to have him between your legs while you tugged at those beautiful curls.

Your hand drifted lower, your nails scraping softly across his skin. This time he audibly chuckled.

"Are you tryna fuck me?" he asks, causing you to blush. It wasn't that you thought you were being sly, but you didn't expect to be confronted like that.

"I-"

"You're good, it's cute that you're shy, I just don't fuck with that teasing shit so, unless you wanna get yourself in trouble..." Although the words were harsh, his tone was soft. Things progressed quickly after that, your lips meeting in a heated kiss to your hands pinned above your head, his mouth moving to your neck as he whispers in your ear

"What's your safe word, princess?"

~*~*~*~

taglist

@kidtheekid

@cclynn88

@lonerlee

@madisonmgklover22

@bakedcolson

@triplexdoublex

@chokemeshaw

@myfatbottomedgirls

@friedwangsss

@rumoured-whispers

@sunflowerbebe07

@nichmeddar

[peachhcs]

Love Languages

Pairings Luke Patterson x reader

Summary Luke asks the reader what love languages are. 

Warnings none but fluff :)

Word Count 1.8k (short I know but I'm working on it)

I haven’t really written on Tumblr before so don’t judge too harshly because there’s some insanely talented people on here who might judge hahaha. (hopefully not though) I don't know what the boy’s love languages are so I kind of just assumed based off of what we saw but I did see somewhere that someone said Luke’s was touch so I just went with it. 

Gif is not mine so credit to the owner! I don’t know if anyone has done this idea before but I kind of like it because it popped into my head last night. Anyways, enjoy!! :) p.s. I sort of left this on a cliff hanger but idk if i’m going to continue it or not hahaha

PART 2

* * *

You were seated peacefully on the couch as you worked away on your laptop while listening to Julie and the guys practice a few songs for this weekend’s upcoming gig. You always loved listening to them practice, they sounded like absolute angels and you would never get tired of listening to them. However, Luke thought you should be doing your homework somewhere else because he didn’t want them to be distracting to you but truthfully, you really didn’t mind. If you were being honest, it actually helped you focus and the music didn’t let your brain wander. 

You glanced up at the group after realizing they had stopped playing. Julie met your eyes with a warm smile, already reading your mind,

“We’re just taking a break. I got to catch up on some homework.” Julie explained to her best friend. You nodded in response, smiling slightly as she went back to work. The boys were talking amongst themselves over by the piano, using hushed voices so whatever they were talking about you or Julie couldn’t hear. 

By some weird magical notion, you were able to see the boys even when they weren’t playing like Julie could. They haven’t been able to figure out why yet, though. Why you could see the guys but their other best friend, Flynn, couldn’t. Or why Luke’s parents couldn’t see him either but you still could. It was all just one big mystery they were all still unravelling. They had a theory that it had something to do with their unfinished business and the connections they all shared with one another, but that was yet to be explored with you and the boys. Julie and the boys sort of figured out how they were connected, but they hadn’t gotten that far with you yet. 

Julie made an attempt one time to suggest that maybe it was because you were so close with Luke ever since you guys met, the connection just helped you see all of them, but you chose to deny that theory. Especially when Julie threw the word feelings into the mix. Julie knew all too well about your “little”crush on the lead guitarist. There was no doubt that she caught on to it right away when the pair first met and hit off right away. From there, she proceeded to question you about it once they went back to her room. Of course you denied, denied, denied, but after awhile you finally gave in and agreed to your best friend’s observation. Julie saw all the looks that you two exchanged and she knew very well about the boys talking about you here and there. It was just a matter of time until one of you finally broke and admitted your stupid feelings for one another.

“Hey..Y/n?” The cautious voice made you glance up from your computer, first looking at Julie thinking it was her who called your name but then turning your head to the boys who were glancing at you with quizzical looks. 

“Yeah?” You ask glancing at Luke since he was the one who spoke up. You watch as the boys exchange a glance with one another and you push your eyebrow up in confusion. You meet eyes with Julie for a moment who was now looking between the boys and you just as confused as you were. 

“We have a question.” 

“Well, Luke does, but we’re curious too.” Alex cut in before you could respond. You chuckle slightly at their visible nervousness about what they wanted to ask. 

“Okay, shoot.” You gave them your full attention, pushing your computer screen down and a small smile sat content on your lips. Julie also gave them her full attention too, because she was equally as curious as to what they could possibly be asking you.

“What..what does love languages mean? We heard you and Julie talking about it yesterday..” Luke’s asks softly. Oh. That was what they were asking..Your face goes a little red at the thought of them hearing your conversation yesterday since it started out as band schedule and then led into your crush per usual. You glanced to Julie for help who only shook her head with a quick shrug.

“They asked you, not me. Take it away, sister.” Julie laughed and your face went even redder. It wasn’t an inappropriate question or anything, you just didn’t really know how to describe it. Or because it meant talking about feelings and relationships which was something you didn't really want to get into with them, especially Luke. 

“Uhh.. well.. I guess it’s a certain way somebody likes to express their love for someone. There’s different types of love languages like um, touch, words, gifts, spending time with that person, and doing nice things I guess..” You trail off slightly while scratching the back of your head, feeling a little flustered. 

“What do you think my love language is?” Alex asks excitedly, not really to you but just to anyone who would answer him. 

“I see yours being affirming words or something like spending time with them. You always love it when someone compliments you and reassures you if you’re having too much anxiety about something.” Julie cuts in with a smile and Alex points to her to say she was correct. Julie chuckles and you do too. 

“Reggie, yours would definitely be gifts or like spending time with people. You always like to hang around Ray and stuff.” You say glancing at Reggie who smiles warmly at your statement. 

“What about me?” You met eyes with Luke who was softly looking at you. You avoided Julie’s burning gaze into your head and Alex and Reggie’s small smirks as they waited for you to answer. You flushed again, looking to Julie for help who only shrugged. They both knew you knew the answer, that was what you guys had been talking about yesterday. 

“I’m..I’m not really sure..” You lied and you hated the small hint of disappointment in Luke’s eyes. You quickly looked away and started to reopen your laptop.

“Hey, I’m hungry, I’m gonna grab some snacks. Y/n do you wanna come with?” Julie asks making an escape for you to avoid the now awkward tension in the room.

“Yeah. Yeah.” You were quickly nodding your head and jumping up from your laptop. You didn’t even wait for Julie as you made a beeline for the garage doors and pushed them open, hurrying up the pathway to Julie’s house. 

Julie exchanged a knowing glance with the boys, reading Alex and Reggie’s glances before following after you saying you’d be back in a minute. You were pacing around on the patio when Julie finally got to you. She raised her eyebrows slightly trying to read your thoughts. 

“Y/n, why did you lie? That could have been the perfect opportunity to tell him how you feel.” Julie says and you shoot her a small glare. 

“Julie, he doesn’t like me like that. I just didn't want to embarrass myself but I guess I embarrassed myself even more by saying nothing.” You admit, slowing your pacing to look Julie in the eye. She lets out a small laugh.

“I don’t think you embarrassed yourself. You were just flustered which is understandable, but I say go for it. You never know what can happen. The Y/n I know doesn’t back down from a challenge either.” Julie puts a comforting arm on your shoulder and you were thankful for it. You squeeze her hand in response.

“Thanks. I don’t know, I guess I’ve just never felt this way about someone before..” You trail off and Julie squeezes your shoulder even tighter,

“Look, I get it, it’s scary, but you can do it. Think of this as me encouraging you to talk to him like you did for me and Nick. Just go for it. Have some confidence.” Julie winked at you and you chuckle at her actions. 

“There’s the Y/n I know. Now come on, we still need to get snacks. I gotta make my lie somewhat believable.” Julie nudged your side before making her way inside as you followed after he with a laugh. 

The two of you walk back into the garage a few moments later where the boys met your glances. Luke was now moved onto your spot on the couch while Alex and Reggie hung around by the piano still. You rolled your eyes that Luke took your spot but at least he was gracious enough to move your computer. You walked over to him where he smirked as you made an attempt to move him out of the way. 

“Get out of my spot.” You tease trying to move Luke out of the way again but he didn’t budge and instead kept holding that smirk on his lips. You rolled your eyes so you instead took a seat beside him and grabbed your laptop from the coffee table. 

“I’ll move if you tell me what you think my love language is.” Luke says and you quickly met his eyes. You glanced at Alex, Reggie, and Julie for a moment where they only shrugged. You huffed under her breath knowing you had no way out of this now. 

“I don’t know.” You say simply trying to get off of the topic but Luke kept pushing. He leaned in closer towards you and you could feel his breath on your neck. 

“I think you do..” Luke says and you meet his gaze again. You purse your lips together before glancing back at your computer for a moment. 

“Touch.” You say plainly and simply. You refused to meet Luke’s eyes as you furthered your answer, “I always noticing you touching Alex or Reggie in one way or another. Whether it’s something small or a hug or just a reason to touch them. It’s sweet.” You finish a small smile on your lips as you opened the tab you had been working on previously. A comfortable silence filled the room and you felt pretty content with your answer. It wasn't as bad or as embarrassing as you thought it would be. Luke was silent beside you and you were afraid to look at him so you just kept her gaze on your computer. 

You didn’t actually know if you could touch the boys, you just assumed you couldn’t because Julie was the only one with the real special powers. You had just been randomly gifted parts of them somehow. You all just walked around each other because the guys found it slightly weird to just walk through people they knew. Luke stared at you beside him and he wanted to at least try. If anything, his hand would just fall through like it did with everyone, so slowly and carefully, Luke reached out to turn your chin so you would look at him. The guys raised his eyebrow at his movements and then, he touched you. 

You felt his hand under your chin and you both did a double take. Luke quickly pulled his hand away in surprise that you actually felt that. The two of you exchanged a wondering and surprised glance. 

“We just touched..” 

[thirsty4theextraordinary]

Come on love, let’s get this freak-show on the road

I’ve been replaying Fallout 4 for like the 100th time recently and again I have fallen in love with Hancock all over again. So this is a little one-shot I wrote up last night that goes through how Hancock is feeling about the SS. 

Hopefully you guys like it. 

Pairing: John Hancock X Female Sole Survivor 

Tags: Fluff, nothing else just some sweetness. 

“To think I ever doubted you.” 

That was how he had started this, how he had got to where they were now. Of course, she seemed unfazed like nothing had changed. It had been days since their conversation on the side of the road. They had made camp at a local settlement of hers, or rather the Minutemen’s. She chatted idly to the settlers as they sat beside the campfire, unaware of his eyes on her. She had achieved such an amazing amount since coming off of ice. 

When they had first met, she had come strolling into Goodneighbour with Nick Valentine at her side. She was beautiful, and fresher-looking than any woman he had seen before. Like a poster of one of those pre-war movie stars. Of course, he was attracted, you would have to be blind not to be but he kept it to himself. And that vault suit hugged her curves aa though it were painted on.  

Once they started travelling together that’s when things had changed. Into something that he had never experienced before. She was kind, intelligent, cunning and not afraid to hurt those who needed hurting. He had had pre-existing ideas of what the Vault-dweller would be like in a fight and it was nothing like this. She had the reflexes of a trained killer, and as much as he had thought he would be the one protecting her, it was sometimes the other way around. He couldn’t count the number of times she had stimpak’d him mid-battle, just to turn and shoot his assailant in the face, as though it was nothing at all. 

The more they travelled together the more he fell for her. It wasn’t like him, John had always been a lone wolf, content with the occasional one nightstand. He had no problems finding lovers, even turning Ghoul hadn’t dampened his chances. The sexy King of the Zombies had no issues with the ladies. So why was he so hung up on the woman in a bright blue vault suit? 

It was one night, when they had stopped to make camp and he looked over at her sleeping form, that he fully understood, that what he felt wasn’t just simply lust, like usual. At first, it disturbed him, he wasn’t used to feeling like this, this intense feeling was scary. The womaniser in him denied these feeling of course and he told himself that the last thing she need was the love of a Ghoul. While he had never had trouble finding lovers, he knew that not all soft-skins were so inclined to his kind. He wasn’t sure he could take the rejection from her. He huffed to himself, she had turned him into a teenager again, nervous about asking out his first girl.  John Hancock was a confident flirt, never had he questioned himself before, but then never had he felt like this. She really was something else.  And yet he had never expected her to say what she did. 

He hadn’t expected the conversation to lead that way, he hadn’t even led it that way himself. He just simply wanted to let her know what a great friend she was, how impressed he was with her moral compass, deep down he wanted to be a little more like her. He felt it was only right that he shared, after all, she had been upfront since day one about her past, and what she was trying to do out here in the Commonwealth. But up until this point, he hadn’t really told her much about himself, only how he had become mayor and why he had wanted to leave. He had just wanted to share, to open up a bit. He hadn’t expected her to turn it on him like that. He had been telling her about what had happened at Diamond City. 

“I felt like I was the only one who saw how screwed up things truly were, who couldn’t just pretend things were fine. Still feel that way… or I did. Until I met you” He mentally scolded himself for that last part would she notice, question him. But she just kept listening politely, she hadn’t taken it for any more than just a declaration of admiration. No feelings attached. So with a smile, he continued. 

“I know I run my mouth, but having someone who sees the world for what it is and is willing to do something about it. It’s meant a lot to me. I feel damn lucky to have you as a friend.” 

“And that’s what we are? Friends?” the words had fallen from her mouth like they meant nothing, like she hadn’t just propositioned him. He couldn’t help the flutter that he felt in his stomach or that grin that spread across his face, he felt suddenly exposed, was she playing with him. But like aways, John use crude flirting and overconfidence to hide his nervousness. 

“Well, now that you mention it, I have been having slightly more impure thoughts than usual. Maybe we’ll get to…. act on those. Heh,” He had said to her. It wasn’t that he regretted saying it, after all, it was the truth. Watching her ass bounce in the vault suit, as she ran and few yards ahead of him as they travelled had undoubtedly been the inspiration for a few impure dreams. But did he want her to think that was all he had to offer? A few nights of passion on the road, just friends until they got into the bedroom. He wasn’t really sure what it was she wanted, maybe that was all she expected, after all, he did have a reputation. He told himself that with any other girl, especially one that looked like her, he would be happy. But as the days went past and he saw her save people who needed saving and take out those that threaten them, he knew he would never just been content with a sex only kinda deal. But it’s not like that had happened either since their talk nothing had happened. But it had been a tough few days, maybe she was simply worn out, he couldn’t blame. Or maybe it was all just meaningless flirting.  

“I’m off to bed, thanks for the drink Ben” she suddenly announced standing from her seat beside him, the settler nodded his head to her. She turned to John and bent down.

“Goodnight, Hancock,” she said sweetly before she placed a tender kiss to his cheek. He couldn’t help but turn his head and capture her lips. Just because she made him feel something new, didn’t mean he had forgotten all his moves. She squeaked with surprise at first but kissed him back nonetheless. He pulled away, shooting her his infamous grin. 

“You can call me John you know,” he told her and she smiled at him blushing pink. 

“Goodnight, John” she replied trying his name out and he smiled like a fool. No one called him that much anymore, but it sounded so sweet coming from her.

“Goodnight, Sunshine” he replied. His whole life he had been running but at that moment he knew, he could never run away from her.  

She stood fully and without another word headed off towards the small wooden shack that Ben had offered them for the night.  With his mind whirling he took off after her. He closed the door behind him and she looked up from where she was sat on one of the mattresses on the floor. She was going threw her pack, checking out ammo supplies and the like. 

“Hey, when you got time, I got something I still need you to hear,” he said as he perched himself in the rickety chair in the corner and pull the slightly smashed packet of cigarettes from his pocket. 

“Is everything alright?” she asked suddenly looking a little concerned. God, why did she have to look at him with those big beautiful eyes of hers? He took a breath.

“Oh yeah. Better than that. This is just… tricky” he began. Pushing the cigarette between his lips and lighting it. He offered her one silently and she took both the pack and lighter from him without a word, lighting the cigarette and taking a drag. 

He found himself opening up to her again, telling her things only he really knew. Things he hadn’t really told anyone.  How he felt inside, not about her but about himself. He needed to know she understood, that she saw him for who he really was. All his self-loathing out in the open, the real John Hancock on full display.  How he was just running away, with no real destination in mind. She hadn’t just listened to him spill his guts she had consoled him. 

“You may have run, but you always ran for a reason,” she told him with a nod of her head. Hearing her say something like that from her, was like a warm shower, washing away his insecurities, his worries. 

“Been trying to convince myself of that for a long time, but hearing that coming from someone like you…. I don’t know if you understand what that means to me,” he said with a smile which she returned. Again he took a breath.

“So, lemme get to the point. Throwing in with you has been the best decision I’ve ever made. It’s like I found a part of myself I never realised was missing…. Which happened sometimes when you’re a Ghoul” there he was joking again, protecting himself. 

“If I hadn’t taken up with you, I’d probably be in a gutter somewhere, getting gnawed on by Radroaches. You have been one hell of a friend” He had used that word strategically, he hadn’t forgotten the stolen kiss they had just had but he needed to test the waters. 

“Have you ever thought about us as maybe more than just friends?” she said her face serious. Was she testing him too? 

“Heh. It that obvious? But come on. You don’t want to wake up to this mug every morning. Never wish that on anyone I cared for.” it was honest, there were no sexual undertones, no joking. He was checking, he knew he could charm the pants off most girls in the Commonwealth but this was more than that, he wanted to check he hadn’t made a mistake. 

“Who I fall for is my decision. And I’ve fallen for you” she admitted with a smile and he swallowed hard. 

“Wouldn’t expect that kind of lapse in judgement from you. But I guess that works out for me then, doesn’t it?” he joked, mentally he scolded himself he should have told her how he felt. What she meant to him. But she giggled at his joke and he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Heh. Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull. Because no one like me should be this lucky.“ he said looking down at the lit cigarette in his hand, the long line of ash waiting to be flicked off. 

Her hand entered his peripheral vision and he looked towards her. She had thrown her cigarette away and she was holding her hand out towards him. He threw his cigarette out the hole in the shack wall and took her hand. She pulled him to sit in front of her. Her beautiful eyes staring into his soul.  

“Look John, I know you joke to protect yourself. But I’m going to be honest now” she said and he blinked his heart beating out of his chest, she was going to tell him that he meant nothing to her. 

“When I said I fallen for you” she began, he knew what was coming”

“I really meant it” she breathed holding his hand a little tighter. He let out a breath he hadn’t know he was holding. She meant it?

“I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone before,” she said and he smiled so brightly it hurt his cheeks.

“I love you too, Sunshine,” he said and she smiled.

“But I want to check what that means to you. What I mean is, I don’t one-night stands or friends with benefits. I’m either in all the way or not at all.  So what do you say?” she said her voice far less confident than he was used to hearing from her. Had she been having all the same thoughts as him? God, he was a fool. 

“You don’t know how happy you make me, saying stuff like that. With you, I’ve found the person I was meant to be with. My missing piece. I don’t want to ever be without you. So you wanna make this thing official?” he asked and she smiled so brightly he could feel the warmth of it. 

Without a word, she leant forward and captured his lips in a kiss he wouldn’t ever forget. It was passion-filled but loving, with a swift movement he pushed her back so she was lying, her back on the mattress and he hovered above her. He looked down at her grinning like a teenager, who had just seen his first boob. She giggled before she leant up and captured his lips in another loving kiss. 

[sky-berrie]

Goodnight - Damian

Summary: Damian pays you a visit at night ft. the one bed trope.

It was a typical eerie night in Gotham and as usual, you spent it alone in your room. You were completely engrossed in the murder documentary streaming on your laptop, the game of Tetris on your cell phone, and the barbeque potato chips you were shoving into your mouth. You were so unaware of your surroundings that you jumped right out of your seat and yelped when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“Relax, Y/N,” said Damian, casually. “It is only me.” He was dressed in his Robin uniform. It was clean which meant that he was probably unharmed.

You scowled at him as your felt your heart beat wildly against your ribcage. Your eyes traveled to the open window. You were certain that you had secured the latch, added the anti-lift bar and activated the alarm not twenty minutes ago. Your newfound interest in murder mysteries kept you awake a night, so you amped up your security to give yourself some peace of mind. It should have been impossible for anyone to break in, but here Damian was, standing inside your apartment bedroom.

“Stop abusing your power like that,” you scolded.

“Stop leaving yourself vulnerable,” he countered, without missing a beat.

“I didn’t! Did you not see the steel bar and alarm?” you said with indignation. You had to wonder how he managed to slip in. In another life, he could be a magician, you thought.

“Indeed, I did notice,” he said. “It is quite the cute little system you have.” His smirk was as condescending as ever.

You rolled your eyes and huffed. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting a big reaction out of you.

Damian’s expression softened. “I am glad that you installed that, though. Now I do not have to worry so much about you when I am away.”

You had no idea how to formulate a response to a comment that was not an insult or sarcasm. You awkwardly changed the subject instead, “So… you need something or…?”

Damian looked at you expectantly as if he was waiting for you to continue. “Do not end your sentence with a conjunction,” he chastised you. “Proper grammar is imperative for effective communication.” You rolled your eyes again. Sometimes he was insufferable.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said. And sometimes he was almost sweet.

His gloved finger gently tipped your face upwards so he could inspect it thoroughly. You found his concern rather considerate until he opened his mouth again. Damian’s face contorted into an expression of disgust before he said, “You are beginning to look like Drake.” Although Tim was very attractive, you knew how Damian felt about his adoptive brother. His statement was not to be mistaken as a compliment.

You pulled away and rolled your eyes again. “Got it. You came here to annoy me. Mission accomplished. You ready to leave now?” You pointed to the window.

“I am being serious, Y/N, you look unwell…” He looked around your desk space with a horrified expression. “And I can see why. When was the last time you slept?”

“Uh,” you blew a raspberry as you thought about it. “Yester…today?” you said, but it came out as a question. Damian looked unimpressed. “No, today. Definitely today,” you stated with more confidence.

You could tell Damian didn’t buy it. “What day is it today?” he challenged.

Your eyes roamed around the room in search of clues. The date and time weren’t visible on your electronics. You took a stab in the dark. “Saturday.”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest. “It is Sunday night.”

“Oh…” you pursed your lips sheepishly. Sometimes the days blurred together.

“That is it,” he said with finality. He closed your laptop. “You are banned from watching murder mysteries videos at night.” He went for your phone next. He raised it up for you to see your game of Tetris disappearing as he powered it off. “I am confiscating your phone every evening from now on.”

“What?” you whined, lunging out for your phone. Damian tucked it away and out of reach in the inner pocket of his uniform.

“You are getting time limits. Blue light disrupts your circadian rhythm - no laptop or phone after 10 pm.” He grabbed the crinkly chip bag. “And these, well, you really should not eat these ever. Do you know how much sodium is in this bag? Your arteries will know.” He tossed the half-empty bag into the trash can beside your desk.

“No!” You protested. He had no right to order you around.

“Yes,” he asserted. You watched him fluff up your pillows, tuck the sheets firmly under the mattress, and smooth out the bed spread. “You are going to bed now. Get in.” He lifted the covers for you.

“Yeah, no thanks,” you chuckled humourlessly. You just wanted to finish watching the unsolved mystery of the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902 and be so terrified that you can’t sleep for the next three days.

“Y/N,” he said sternly, indicating that he wasn’t in the mood for an argument.

“Fine,” you grumbled. You knew Damian was stubborn and wouldn’t take no for an answer. You figured that you would get in bed to appease him and get rid of him, then you could resume watching your video.

You stomped extra loudly across your room to make a point. You huffed loudly as you crawled into bed. He pulled the covers up to your chin and tucked you in as if you were a little kid.

“Good night,” said Damian.

“Yeah, bye,” you replied impatiently.

Your eyes following Damian as he flicked off your lamp. Once your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized that Damian was taking off his Robin uniform. He stripped down to his undershirt and hung the tunic over the back of your chair before sitting down. “What are you doing?” you asked, raising yourself up on your forearms.

“I am going to stay,” he said, like it was the most normal sentence in the entire world.

“Um, come again?”

“I know you are afraid to go to sleep, so I will stay and make sure you feel safe… even though it is self inflicted fear and I ought to leave you so you learn your lesson. I do not know why you insist on watching murder mysteries knowing that you are going to be frightened.”

“While that’s a very nice offer, it’s also super unnecessary. I’m okay,” you lied. You couldn’t let him stay overnight in your chair just because you had an overactive imagination.

Damian raised a hand to silence your argument. “It is not up for debate. I will stay right here and you will get some sleep.”

“But you need to sleep, too,” you reasoned.

Damian shrugged. “I will make do here.”

Your throat was suddenly dry as you prepared to make a compromise. “You could… sleep… here… in my bed?” You prayed that he wasn’t repulsed by your invitation to share your bed. You and Damian were just friends but somewhere along the way your feelings changed. You caught yourself noticing things about him that you found attractive… like the way his eyes were so expressive and always told you what he was thinking… or how he carried himself with strength and confidence, even if it could be annoying sometimes.

You held your breath in anticipation. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. “Okay,” he casually accepted. While you were relieved that he wasn’t mortified by the thought of sharing your bed, you were a nervous wreck now.

You shuffled over to the very edge of your twin sized bed to make room for Damian. As he lay down, the side of his warm arm brushed against yours. You skittishly scooted away but tumbled out of bed.

Damian peered over the edge of the bed and his brows knit together in confusion. “What on earth are you doing?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said, too quickly to sound normal. You tittered nervously as you climbed back under the covers. This time you lay on your side and faced away from him to put some distance between you two and to hide your embarrassment.

“Come closer, Y/N. I do not want you to fall off again.”

You shifted infinitesimally closer.

“Closer,” instructed Damian.

You inched towards him but left a good distance separating you two.

“There’s plenty of space here,” he encouraged.

You quickly came up with an excuse. “I toss and turn in my sleep. I don’t want to hurt you by accident.”

Damian let out a hearty laugh.

“What?” you asked with indignance. You rolled over onto your back so you could see him.

“Nothing,” he denied, stifling his mirth.

“Tell me,” you demanded.

“The thought of you, in your footie pajamas, thinking that you could injure a highly skilled assassin, is quite comical. Don’t flatter yourself. Now, come here and go to sleep.” Damian patted the empty space beside him.

This time you listened and moved towards the centre of the bed. You were so close to Damian that you could feel the heat radiating off his skin. The warmth was drawing you even closer to him but you reprimanded yourself and forced yourself to remain eerily still to avoid another accidental contact. Damian turned his head and you felt his eyes on you. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Y-yeah,” you squeaked. You bit you lip anxiously. Your hand played with a loose thread on the blanket.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes,” you said, this time more confidently although you weren’t fooling him.

“You need not be afraid of the dark, Y/N, especially when I am here.”

You knew that already. You always felt safe when you were with Damian, even before you knew he was Robin. There was something comforting about his self-assurance that made situations less scary. But that’s not what was making you jittery.

“Why do you bother watching murder mysteries? They always overlook clues and never investigate thoroughly. Besides, you have a real detective right here,” Damian said, with a tone of umbrage.

You shrugged and tilted your head. “They’re fun,” was your simple answer.

Damian cocked an eyebrow. “Being so petrified that you cannot sleep alone is fun?”

“I don’t know. I guess I admire you for being Robin.” You don’t know why you said that. You really shouldn’t be feeding his ego. It’s big enough as it is. You kept talking, against your better judgement. “Watching you solve mysteries and fight for justice got me interested in true crime.”

Damian only hummed in response. He was quiet for a while and you thought that maybe he had drifted to off to sleep. Finally, he said, “Would you like to know who committed the Gruesome Gotham Murders of 1902?”

You gasped and turned on your side to face him. You were only a few inches away from him now, but you didn’t even register his proximity. Your anxiety was long forgotten and replaced by curiosity. “You know who did it?”

“Of course,” he confirmed.

“How?” you breathed with skepticism. The case had been undertaken by several of the most high-profile detectives and private investigators over the decades and none were able to solve it. In fact, no new leads had been uncovered in the last eighty years.

Damian rolled his eyes. “Batman and Robin are, without a doubt, the best detective duo in history. Not to mention, that case was child’s play.”

You scoffed. “I don’t believe you. Show me some proof,” you said, calling his bluff.

“Very well, then. I will show you the file the next time you visit the manor.”

“If you’ve solved it, why don’t you tell the authorities then?”

“We have. It is connected to several active cases so the GCPD is not able to release any information to the public yet.”

You scrutinized his face, looking for any signs of a fib. He didn’t waver under your intense stare, but then again, he was accustomed to the batglare so your measly glare was probably ineffective. You decided to trust him. “Who did it?”

Damian turned on his side as well and propped up his head with his arm so that he could look down at you. He pretended to think about it, building up the suspense. “If you go to sleep now, I’ll tell you tomorrow morning,” he said, almost playfully.

“What?” you exclaimed.

“Better get to sleep right away,” he warned.

You couldn’t believe he would tease you like this. There was no way you’d be able to sleep knowing that the answer to the city’s most enigmatic mystery was lying right beside you. You huffed angrily and flopped back down onto your mattress.

Damian let out a deep laugh in response. You grabbed a spare pillow and tried to whack him, but he anticipated your attack and caught it. “Damian Wayne, you are the absolute worst.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

[kneamet]

Inspired by Wandavision. Reader is trapped in a perfect world of sitcom. However, she notices that her husband Loki is in control of everyone. I also ask for a scene that Loki goes to SWORD agents and threatens them like Wanda.

Trigger Warning: obsession, yandere, forced, kidnapping

Word Count: 2768

Character: Loki/reader

Summary: you knew that your husband was a magician, but you never thought that he would decide to create a perfect false world

POV Your

It was strange. Very strange. The world has seemed unreal to you lately. Everything was so unrealistic that I wanted to gouge out my eyes.

You looked down at your hands, feeling extremely worried. This acrid feeling burned and ate away at you from the inside out, making you feel anxious. It was very scary and unusual.

"Darling, what are you doing? Thinking about genesis?" the mocking velvety baritone whose owner was currently smiling softly at you from behind asked you. A light laugh followed his sentence. Laughter, like a crowd laughing at a joke.

You shook your head. It seemed particularly heavy now. Reflection and thoughts struck your bright, unfilled dark thoughts, head.

"Loki, what is that laugh?" you asked, turning your head to look at him. Loki only raised an eyebrow at your remark and smiled at you again, shaking his head and walking down the stairs towards you.

"I don't know what you're talking about, my sweet queen? What are you getting at?" coming up to you and touching your hair with the big hand that did the magic and gently running it through it. You blinked, leaning away from her husband's touch.

You loved his touch. So soft, so tender, so in need of the necessary love, which... What is it? Why can't you remember?

"Loki, honey, can I ask you something?" you could feel his nod as you stared at the dark screen on the off-screen TV. "What happened before we came to Westview? I can't remember, " you said in confusion, turning completely into Loki, who was looking at you with a serious look, frowning.

There was a lonely silence between you and your husband. On the top floor, the children could be heard frolicking and playing among themselves. The tension that weighed down the souls of those in the main room was overwhelming.

"Is this how pregnancy affected you? You know, I'm not an expert, but after this stage in life, girls are very suspicious of their husbands, " Loki smiled charmingly again, sitting down next to you on the blue sofa that sagged under his weight, and hugging you around the neck, kissing you on the cheek. It was a ridiculous kiss, more like a reassuring kiss.

The laughter came again. It was an unusual laugh when you see someone in front of you and they laugh. No, it was a laugh on the echoes of consciousness, which in an endless rhythm only intensified when a "funny" joke was heard. It was suspiciously strange. You felt your hands start to sweat a little.

With your lips pressed tightly together and your teeth biting the inside of your cheek, you stood up, emerging from Loki's pleasant captivity. His hands, which you so loved to touch, had to be left behind, freeing yourself from a pleasant manual captivity.

You loved Loki. He was a very interesting man... No, not a man, but a God, to put it mildly. Your beloved God, who was head over heels in love with you. He was very sarcastic and handsome: that black hair of his, which was now cut short in a perfect style; green eyes, so attentive that nothing escapes them. What can I say here, he's a God.

Grabbing your coat from the hanger and going straight up the stairs and heading straight for the door, wanting to get out and get some fresh air, as well as refresh your obsessive thoughts by going deeper into the thoughts that haunted you even at night.

"Honey, are you going somewhere?" getting up from the sofa, your husband asked obsessively, smiling at you and in an instant, teleporting, being near you, putting his hand on your shoulder.

You mastered your shoulder from his hand, shaking it slightly and not even paying attention to it, opened the door, saying:

"Get some fresh air. Keep an eye on the boys," you muttered as you closed the door behind you, not even bothering to look at your husband, who was standing there with a tense face, looking at you. It's a good thing you didn't notice.

You wanted to get out of this city. Find out what's next. Maybe we can find out from people if they know anything about you, or maybe it's just that you have a terrible memory.

But no, it can't be so terrible that you don't remember anything from the day you and Loki came to this city that seemed like an ideal city. Still, there was something wrong. Something was bothering you.

Deciding not to slow down and just walk towards the end of the city, you began to look around. You didn't walk very far, maybe fifty meters from your house, and everything was fine.

"Hi, Rob!" you shouted to your fool from work, to which he only smiled painfully at you, and your feeling only grew stronger when you saw a tear trickle down his cheek.

We need to get out of this city faster and find out from the people who live nearby if they know what's going on here in Westview.

You didn't remember when this craze to find out what was going on in this town started. Maybe when you haven't seen the kids on the playground for a couple of days in a row? Or when your friend Geraldine left so suddenly that you didn't notice? Or when the children began to grow very quickly? Or maybe when I saw the tears of the residents, when they portrayed happiness?

It was difficult. You couldn't put the details together, and your mind refused to remember your past, which you couldn't just forget. There must have been something, right? Your memories couldn't have started with you coming here with your husband, could they?

You shook your head, looking up and noticing that the main city was gone, leaving only small houses and a road that led off into the distance. Just where the STOP sign is placed. Is travel prohibited for everyone, or just for you and the people of this city?

Suddenly you stopped, clutching your head. No, no, no, what if you're imagining it? What if this is all just a game of your excited mind? Maybe you just made it all up and the people at Westview are really happy?

Squinting at the small house, your eyes only widened in fear, which was reflected in your trembling hands and your herd of goosebumps that ran down your back. The woman stood motionless, as did the man, apparently he was her husband, and she was his wife. They just stared at one point, apparently not even breathing. It was scary to see and you didn't dare approach them.

Looking around and not noticing anyone behind you, only frozen people, you stepped a little further, overcoming the road, noticing a strange, whatever it was, but it looks like a wall or some kind of dome that was blue mixed with green, similar to the colors of magic... Loki?

You knew about Loki's abilities. That he's quite a powerful mage, but could he create this dome? Was he so powerful that you didn't even know it? Your hands trembled, and so did your lower nooba. Your eyes stared at that dome-wall in amazement and tortured fear.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open as you finally put together the details that had previously been a dead weight in your head.

When you touched it with your hand, you felt yourself being pulled in. It became uncomfortable. Now the question of real life was being decided, where you would learn everything about yourself and live in a world where there were no lies, or whether it would be better to stay in a world full of lies, but with your husband. Your hand has wavered in the direction of the false world. What if Loki gets angry? Did you know how evil he can be?

But no, as you said earlier, retreating now was too easy and incomprehensibly simple. To give up is to admit defeat, to remain in a world where you will always be written as a lie.

But Loki...

Shaking your head again, and finally stepping into that dome wall that seemed to shield you from the real world, you felt a pull with your foot and your whole body. So you didn't have to do anything. In any case, you will simply be thrown out of this world, soaked in lies.

As you tried to make your way through this wall with small steps, you felt how thick it was in its width and so high, although it did not bother you. Right now, all that filled my heart was a sense of freedom.

You felt like your mind was being released and memories were coming back to you from before you and Loki moved to New Jersey.

Suddenly, you felt something hit you in the back and you seemed to fly out of this wall right on the green grass with your stomach down. You groaned a little, sitting up and looking around.

There were people standing right next to you, surrounding you and looking at you in disbelief. Behind them were tents and huge body cars that flashed their headlights. Strange faces were looking at you, very worried. Your eyes went over the people very quickly before you said:

"Darcy?" you whispered, squinting against the light. She was the only person who supported you back then. Then? When?

"Y/N?"

"Help me, please save me!" you asked them, seeing how some of them began to approach you with a reliable expression on their faces, apparently wanting to help.

"I don't think you need any help, my dear queen," said a familiar soft and sweet baritone voice behind you, the sound of which your ears enjoyed. Your eyes widened and you felt fear. Inappropriate fear. Your legs are shaking. Your heart began to beat in a loud rhythm in your mind, drowning out everything except Loki's words, which were currently echoing in your head.

***

POV Loki

He did not think that his dear, dear queen would betray him. Didn't you realize that Loki did everything especially for you, wanting to dedicate every part of himself to you? Did he know that this world wasn't safe, and why did he have to create a fictional one based on your favorite TV shows, which he liked to watch with you, wrapped in a blanket on the comfortable sofa in your apartment, which he often visited earlier?

Loki loved you too much. He never wanted to hurt you, only to help you and make you feel needed and in love with someone.

He always thought you needed someone to take care of you. Yes, and take care so that you will feel like a queen. To protect, care for, and trust you, and the most important thing is to show love for you. What he missed so much.

Loki didn't like remembering the past. It was just a dark line that he crossed out when his mother died, whom he loved so much that he did not even notice the bright manipulations on her part. No, for him, she was a savior who protected him from his father's wrath.

Blinking and shifting his bleary gaze to you, his beloved queen, Loki tightened his grip on the missile that had been set upon him and his children. His favorite perfect twin boys that his beloved wife gave birth to.

They were so wonderful. Children are the flowers of life, isn't that what the Midgardians say? It seems to be. The ideal family, such as only happens in the movies, was embodied by Loki in the form of him, his beloved wife and two children.

Throwing a rocket in the direction of S.W.O.R.D., Loki lowered his head, feeling the magic that was green in color form in his hands and that was ready to kill everyone and get out of his personal life.

The contempt for people oozing out of his mouth was as ugly as it could possibly be. His gaze darted in your direction and softened slightly. The sight of you always calmed his raging mind and brought him to his senses. He took a step toward you, grabbing you in a sloppy hug, as if to show his protection.

It was nice for him to look at you. Your soft hair, in which he liked to bury his nose; your beautiful eyes, in which you could drown if you looked at them only once, and in which he was often lost. He saw you pursing your lips, frowning. Were you afraid?

Loki turned his gaze back to the agents, focusing his magic in his left hand. Magic that can cause pain.

"The rocket was a precaution. You can't blame us, Loki, " a loud male voice shouted. He didn't know him. But most likely it was the director. Loki's brow furrowed as he tightened his grip on you, doing nothing but protect you. He won't let the agents take you away. For too long, he had been alone, wandering the worlds.

"I don't think so. This is my last warning," as if a growl had escaped Loki's lips and the magic had only intensified, instilling the fear he so fiercely enjoyed. "Stay out of my house," the house he was so happy to have. A home where everyone loves him and waits for him. A house where he is respected. The house he missed. "You won't touch me, and I won't touch you," he warned, eager to get out of here and talk to his wife. They would have to have a long conversation.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple. You're holding the whole city hostage, " the unknown man shouted at Loki, to which Loki only curled his lip. Contemptuously. Didn't they understand that he just wanted to be happy? That he just wants to be alone with his beloved and his children?

"I'm not the one with the weapon," Loki warned him, feeling the arm he held around you tighten slightly, and the magic only increased its power. She seemed ready to destroy everything he could see. But right now, he had you, his beloved queen, at his side, who calmed him down with just an unobtrusive presence.

"But you're in control!" a commanding voice was heard. This time it was a woman. Out of the corner of his eye, Loki watched the expression on his beloved queen's face.

"Geraldine?" ah, what a gentle and quiet voice.

"Are you still here?" the man arched an eyebrow significantly, kissing you in the hair and looking with a withering look at the ex-girlfriend of his wife, who insinuated herself into the trust and into the affairs of his family.

"Loki... I didn't know the drones were armed. But you know that, don't you?" slowly approaching him and you, the woman said in a soothing voice, like a doctor talking to his sick patient. Loki always knew there was something wrong with her. She was too suspicious. "The city is full of civilians, but you, God, have brought an S.W.O.R.D. agent into your home," Loki frowned. The blood surged in his veins. He knew that at some point, he just wouldn't hold back. "I helped your wife give birth to your children," she looked at you, and you reflected her gaze with a look of hope. Do you want to leave him? "And on some level, you realize that I'm your ally. I want to help you, " she said in a trusting tone, and Loki slightly reduced the pressure of his magic that oozed from his thin fingers.

"How? What can you offer me?" he knew what she would say. There was no answer to that question. It was all reduced to one thing. The family Loki needed.

"What do you want?" the woman asked, standing in the background with the man who had spoken to him earlier, as if taking a manipulative pose.

"I already have everything. And no one will ever take that away again," Loki muttered, releasing a large stream of energy from his hands, forcing himself to control the minds of his subordinates and aim the scope at the director of S.W.O.R.D.

Turning around, Loki grabbed your hand, squeezing it in a painful grip and helping you turn around. He saw how you tried to resist and remove his intrusive hands and touch, to which the man himself only tightened his grip on you, pushing you into a false world.

[gummy-friend]

Hi! First and foremost, I really like your writing! Second, maybe 4 with G! Techno and H! Tommy? Thanks :D

Hello!!! Thank you so much!!!! :DD

And terribly sorry for the very long delay— I lost my original thought and was being petty to myself. But thank you for the prompt! I appreciate it! :D

————

"I would never hurt you"

Giant Techno and Human Tommy

Content warning: Language, mentions of blood, mentions of killing.

———————

They say giants are vicious, they say giants are evil.

Well, to those people, Tommy will give them a middle finger. Because he met one. A giant.

His name is Techno, he's not evil nor vicious— In fact, Tommy will say that Techno is kind of a pussy. Techno absolutely refuses to go to the human villages, because "That'll be incredibly awkward", according to Techno. So he would just hunt for foods in the forest.

Tommy met Techno for quite a while now— after being exiled from his original village, he stumbled upon Techno's cabin, and got caught by Techno there.

It was not a fun time for Tommy, it took a while for Techno to let him go from a jar— he still don't know the reason why did Techno fucking lock him in a jar—before eventually releasing him to go off on his own. Techno made Tommy promise to not tell anyone about him, though, which Tommy agreed, and quickly ran away from the place.

But before long, Tommy came back to Techno. Tommy remembers, it was honestly an impulse decision of him.

It was nighttime when Techno let Tommy go. And it was nighttime when Tommy saw a mob of people from his village, holding pitchforks and torches, ready to go to where he was coming from. Techno's house.

Tommy smiled at the memory. Sure, he was exhausted trying to sprint as fast as he can, going towards Techno's cabin, trying to find Techno. It was a scary time for Tommy in the jar, sure, but not once did Techno tried to hurt Tommy, no matter how annoying Tommy was trying to be.

"HEEY!" Tommy shouted to the giant, who is in the middle of cooking food.

With a "Huh?", Techno turned around to meet a human he just released an hour ago, confused about his return.

"GIAN— TECHNO!" Tommy shouted again, panting between words "HUMANS!" He shouted, pointing towards the giant's door, trying to get his point across "HUMANS ARE HUNTING YOU—!"

Of course, Techno didn't believe the human. But still, he took precautions and peeked at the window, seeing torchlight and hearing hushed chatters and footsteps. A quick look at that, and Tommy saw Techno tremble— not because of fear, Tommy didn't sense any fear coming from the giant— while holding his head, pulling his long, pink hair. An unseen expression reflected in Techno's face before he once again trapped Tommy in a jar and ran away to their current location.

It has been two months since that incident, Tommy thinks. He still hasn't known much about Techno or his intention— like why did Techno brought Tommy with him when he ran away— but Tommy is currently living with Techno in a cave.

They say giants are evil, they say giants are vicious.

But Tommy hasn't felt like that ever since he moved in with Techno. It was a move with a lot of arguments, but after a quick explanation about how Tommy is afraid of villages after being exiled, Techno gave in and let Tommy stay with him.

"Techno!" Tommy called out to Techno, returning from his trip from the river— a basket full of fish on his back. "I'm home!"

Techno spared Tommy a glance from where he's standing— still focusing on cooking his food. "M-hm, give me the fish, I'll cook it" Techno nodded to himself, knowing Tommy is heading towards his direction.

With a "bitch, next time take the fish yourself" grumbled beneath his breath, Tommy gave the basket of fish to Techno— Who only gave a small scoff at the comment— and sat down not too near the fire.

"So." Tommy started, taking the plate of cooked fish from Techno. "Did you remember two months ago?" he continued, not yet eating his fish, instead staring at Techno.

The first week after moving in with Techno, Tommy asked Techno about his intention so many times— why did Techno take him with him, why did Techno avoid humans so much, especially since Tommy knew Techno is so skilled at fighting— and Techno always avoided the question. Without fail.

"Tommy." Techno sighed. Putting down his half-eaten plate of deer meat. "I told you not to talk about that"

"Why not?!— you fucking trapped me that one time, and you still haven't told me why" Tommy retaliated, But Techno ignored Tommy's protest, instead went back to avoiding the question by going to the cave entrance. Tommy took a bite out of his food before continuing "You're so fumkign skilled at fighting— I know! I saw you that one time when you were sword practicing—"

"Wait. Tommy." Techno's voice rang in a hushed tone— but Tommy was too focused in letting out his thoughts to realize it.

"— and then you have these times when you're so fucking creepy— chanting or some shit—"

"Tommy—"

"— and why the fuck do you live alone anyway? There's no way each giants live alon—"

"Tommy— shut up!—" Techno half-shouted, his voice being held back. Tommy only stared at Techno, the usually-calm giant raised his voice at him, and suddenly Tommy remembered the whispers about giants.

Giants are vicious, giants are evil

Those words reverberated in Tommy's head, and when he came to himself, he was trapped inside Techno's palm. Giant fingers wrapped around him a little too tight as he felt the vibrations of the ground shaking far below him and the sound of Techno panting. It reminded him on that night two months ago, when Techno trapped him in a jar, and those words reverberated inside Tommy's head

Giants are vicious, giants are evil

Are they really?

Minutes felt like hours to Tommy, and Techno finally stopped.

"Let- let me fucking go!" Tommy shouted from Techno's palm— much like when he shouted to be let go from a jar 2 months ago.

"Shh." Techno said. Voice low and halted. He's not even looking anywhere near Tommy's direction.

"No, fuck you— Let me fucking go—"

"Shut. up."

Giants are vicious. Giants are evil

No, no, no. Fuck no, Why does that thought has to come up now?

Tommy looked at Techno. Long, pink hair obscuring his face, a dark and heavy atmosphere covered both of them as the only voice Tommy can focus on is Techno's panting. His body now feels numb.

Just after Tommy felt like he's about to lose consciousness, he felt a sharp turn in his surroundings. The world turns into a blur as Tommy finds himself nauseous—

Before he felt a sharp pain on his head, knocking his consciousness out of him.

๑๑๑

It's loud.

The voices inside his head all screamed the same thing. All screamed the thick, red substance the flows throughout living beings body. The voices inside his head screamed for blood

But Techno doesn't want that. He's changed. He's changed and he have tried to prove that. Not hurting the human child that came over to his cabin two months ago, not killing the hoard of tiny humans hunting him right now, trying so hard not to just take one of the tiny being flailing a pitchfork around and just... squishing them for a tiny trickle of the glorious blood—

No.

For blood he already gave Chat animal blood. No human blood. He's changed. He's changed. He's no more the giant who drove his friend away, no longer the giant from the legend— having no mercy to humans. No.

But if he's changed then...

Why did he not protect the human he's sheltering...?

Tommy is a human that came across Techno two months ago. A human he trapped in fear of letting a hoard of human knowing where he lived. A human he used as a tool to remind hinself he's changed.

But overtime, the human had grown on him. Tommy is a... decent guy when you get to know him. Sure, he's loud, he's annoying, but he's... endearing. In some times Tommy talks to Techno about things he did at his previous village— how he saw a rabbit eating one of the villagers carrots, how he stole one of the villagers things, ....how he was exiled from his village...

It didn't broke Techno's heart, no. It was just.. sad. The kid had been exiled from his village and he ended up inside a jar in a giants house.

It was a day after that Techno let Tommy out of the jar— with a promise that the human won't tell anybody about his whereabouts, of course— while hoping the human will get somewhere to live.

To say Techno was surprised to see the human back in his house again, with a warning that a mob of humans going out for him was an understatement.

It was an impulse action from Techno to grab Tommy in a jar, really. But Techno saw the face of a horrified man and it reminded him of the faces of humans he'd killed— maybe, he can still save faces like these.

Maybe it's going to stay as a mere maybe afterall.

It's currently sunrise, Techno had found a cave hiding behind a waterfall— a secure place for him to hide— but Tommy have not yet to wake up. A small droplet of red stained his finger, but Chat seemed to not at all focusing on that — maybe a small part of Chat, really— but the majority of them are asking if Tommy is okay, if he's badly hurt or not. And with the constant ring inside his head, Techno can't help but feel very anxious about it.

The anxiousness was quickly dissipated, though. As Tommy let out a small groan and a small tremor in his figure, struggling to wake up.

"Tommy?" Techno whispered, finally relaxing his shoulder he didn't know were tense the whole time.

Tommy stood up— or at least tried to stand up— slowly, his arm trembling when a force is applied on it. But eventually, when Tommy managed to stand properly, he let out a shrilling screech at the sight of Techno.

"AAAH WHAT THE FUCK—" Tommy screeched, no longer standing up as he fell down into a sitting position. Trying to scoot away as far as possible from Techno— as far as the rock he's on lets him, at least.

A strange uneasiness tugged at Techno's heart. "T-Tommy...?" Techno repeated, slowly trying to reach out his hand to the small human— which the human respoded with an absolutely terrified look and a small shake. Techno stopped reaching out after that.

"H-How did you know my name?!" Tommy shouted out. The uneasiness tugs harder. "Where am I?!" He shouted again. and... "Who are you?!"

Techno felt like his heart is shattering. Tommy forgot about him. Each word feels like is hurting him.

"I..." Techno started, watching intently to Tommy's face full of fear and anticipation. "I'm Techno," He continued, very slowly in picking his words "and You're in a cave I found yesterday— after we escaped from a group of humans"

"Wait— why're humans hunting... us?" Tommy cuts off, "Did you— did you fucking kidnapped me?"

"No!" Techno said, refuting Tommy's accusation too quickly. But a small pause after his word made him realize that... he did initially kidnap Tommy. "...yes" Techno nodded, watching Tommy's expression pale. No— "The humans didn't hunt us because of that, though—"

"You... you kidnapped me." Tommy whispered, barely enough to be audible to Techno.

"Tommy— no—"

"YOU FUCKING KIDNAPPED ME, GIANT!" He shouted out, the pure emotion seething from him made him stand up. Techno's heart feels like it has been stabbed. "I— You—" Tommy took a step back, not registering how he's at the edge of the surface. Tommy let out a shriek as gravity pulled him down the fortunately not high surface.

Techno was about to reach out and help Tommy, but then he heard a quiet sob and saw the curled up form of Tommy.

"You... you kidnapped me.." Tommy said through his sobs. "What are you going to do to me now...?"

"Tommy." Techno called, a finger held out for helping Tommy to get up. "I would never hurt you"

° ° °

"Tommy." the giant called, a massive finger held out for helping him to get up. "I would never hurt you"

Tommy stood up with help from the giant— What was his name? Was it Tech...?— while looking up towards the giant figure.

A long flowy pink hair, two long pointed ears, two tusks poking from his mouth... Tommy remembered it was scary from when he first saw the giant, but for some reason, the assurance from him reverberated inside Tommy's heart. The nagging feeling of familiarity and "home" radiating from the giant to Tommy doesn't help either.

Tommy stared at the giant. He's kneeling, making his form a lot smaller than it should be. Tommy's glad for that. The giant already looks so much bigger kneeling, Tommy doesn't want to imagine his full height. At least, not right now. "are you sure..?"

The giant nods, repeating his words. "Yeah. I would never hurt you, Tommy."

Tommy stared at the giant. Looking at the concerned expression of the giant. Tommy felt reassurance bubbling more inside his heart. Tommy knows the giant is telling the truth.

Eventually, Tommy stepped out from his thoughts, realizing that he's still on the ground— he should go back to the top of the rock.

With very much difficulty, Tommy tried climbing the rock. The first attempt was very much a fail— as soon as he tried climbing, his arm gave up. Tommy guesses it's the numbness. The second attempt, though, Tommy got help from the giant. The giant gave him his palm as a platform.

"Thank you" Tommy mumbled, still feeling awkward— he guesses the giant also felt awkward— judging by the thick tension in the air. "Can- do you- If you said you didn't- didn't kidnap me," Tommy started, trying to break the tension, "then... can you tell me what really happened?"

The giant stopped for a moment, only watching Tommy. His eyes looked like it widened a little. But eventually, he let out a small huff and start telling Tommy a story. How they first met— the giant really did kidnap Tommy— but after a bit of explanation, Tommy understood the situation. The giant then continued telling about how Tommy warned the giant about oncoming group of humans

He then explained about them running away from the humans together— with the giant trapping Tommy again— and when Tommy asked why, the giant hesitated to answer,

"You.. you reminded me of my friend" the giant answered before continuing again. At the back of his mind, Tommy relaxed. Like it was something he needed to know.

The giant continued to tell the story. telling how Tommy asked to live with him. When Tommy asked why, the Giant said "You said you're scared of villages" and Tommy nodded after that. That kind of make sense— an eerie feeling rose at the thought of a distant, but familiar scenery of a village.

At the end of the story, the giant told the story of last night— about how they were chased by humans. The giant said they were bickering when the giant saw a hoard of humans marching towards them, so the giant quickly grabbed Tommy— forgetting to tell him about the current situation— and the giant apologized after that.

"so that's what happened" Tommy mumbled out, looking towards the giant— who looks slightly exhausted from all the storytelling. "Thank you, T- Tech- Tech- Techie..?"

Tommy can only watch as the giant's face changes into an expression similar to shock. "....what" a low— but not menacing— voice said.

"I- fumk- I forgot your name" Tommy meekly said— he's sure that the giant's not angry, but a giant is still making him nervous.

"Techno. Technoblade" The giant — Techno— huffed out.

"That's a fumkign dumb name" Tommy blurted out, but quickly slapped his hand to cover his mouth.

"It's okay. You said that the first time you knew my name too" Techno deadpanned. Tommy let out a very loud laugh at that.

"So uh— Nice.. Nice to meet you?" Tommy said after a moment of waiting his laugh to stop.

"Nice to meet you too, Tommy." Techno smiled

Giants are vicious, giants are evil.

A distant telling of a village rang inside Tommy's head.

Well, to those people, Tommy will give them a middle finger. Because he met one. A giant.

His name is Technoblade, and Tommy knows he's not evil nor vicious.

——

Thank you so much for the prompt!! I appreciate it!! :DD

The prompt is from here (I don't think I'll be taking more prompts though)

And.. Masterlist ! If you're interested in my other writings! :D

[smilepebble]

ok heres the au i was talking about

i thought of this one pmd2 au like last week as i was falling asleep but i don't think there's a way to describe it in a non lengthy way so im just gonna try my best here

so it's kinda like a typical swap au where hero (who is still a human) is stealing the time gears and grovyle befriends partner except they both have amnesia. hero's amnesia is not as severe as grovyle's and they remember the mission and where the time gears are, but doesn't remember grovyle or any of the other future pokemon, or even the fact that they came from the future. they still have the injury that they got from darkrai, and they can feel their strength slowly starting to fade, and the injury starting to hurt more and more. not only is the world ending all around them, but they can feel themselves dying.

meanwhile, grovyle, with no memory other than his own name, meets partner and they kinda go through the game like normal for awhile (i like to think they have a sibling dynamic ^_^)

anyway once hero's wanted poster is revealed grovyle recognizes their name but nothing else. he tells partner but no one else until the two of them ask dusknoir about it.

in this case, that convo with dusknoir happens after the wanted poster is revealed. dusknoir was already pretty much convinced that the grovyle in treasure town was the one he knew, but this confirms to him that grovyle has amnesia.

grovyle and partner soon run into hero at the underground lake, but at this point, hero hasn't remembered anything yet, and the scene goes pretty much the same to how it does normally

during the fight at crystal lake, things start to get really out of hand. right when hero is about to land a devastating attack on grovyle, they start to remember who he is. they kind of panic and end up knocking out grovyle anyway, and when they try to attack partner, dusknoir appears to stop them. hero flees soon after, but leaves something of theirs behind. (like a dagger or something idk) anyway that item eventually ends up in grovyle's possession.

dusknoir reveals that he's from the future and hero is too, pretty much the same as the game. the same plan is carried out as well, resulting in hero's capture, and grovyle and partner are dragged to the future in the end.

hero, grovyle, and partner all escape from the stockade (this time, hero tells grovyle to use dig, which surprises him and partner, since how would they know he knows that move? he decides that hero probably remembered it from the crystal lake fight)

after the stockade, hero tries to get grovyle and partner to come along with them, but they can't convince the two of them, especially partner, that they're trustworthy, and they just go ahead by themselves.

partner is especially freaked out here, bc well. they almost died back in the stockade, dusknoir just betrayed them, they're in the dark future without knowing how to get back, but also, seeing and talking with hero gives them this really strange and almost unsettling feeling, like something went horribly wrong somewhere.

the dark future section goes the same for a while, and eventually grovyle and partner rescue hero from spiritomb. hero explains the truth of the planets paralysis, but doesn't mention grovyle for some reason. in fact, when asked if hero knows grovyle, hero says no, but they look a little sad when they say it. (grovyle notices this, partner doesn't)

when the three of them go to celebi, hero tells grovyle and partner to stay behind while they talk to celebi (hero makes up some bad excuse like "celebi is a scary and dangerous pokemon and might attack you if she doesn't know you" although grovyle thinks that doesn't sound quite right)

grovyle and partner follow from a distance as hero and celebi make their way to the passage of time, but once they get there, everyone gets ambushed by the sableye. grovyle and partner are pushed out of hiding and celebi immediately recognizes grovyle. hero apologizes for all of the confusion and tries to challenge dusknoir, but then dialga appears. dusknoir reveals that hero and grovyle were partners and the whole amnesia thing. the whole group is kinda shocked that hero didn't mention it, despite knowing all of this. its then that hero reveals that they don't have much longer to live, their injury will take them out in a matter of hours at best. so they try to fight dusknoir anyway. but before they can do that, partner asks celebi to teleport them forward and hero, partner and grovyle all escape.

however, hero's injury combined with the passage of time causes something strange to happen, and instead of dying, they wake up as a pokémon. after the initial confusion, hero, grovyle and partner decide to regather the time gears.

partner's ominous feeling is only amplified by seeing hero as a pokémon, and they realize that it's a feeling of déja vu, even though they know they've never met any other pokémon of hero's species. hero and partner talk about it while watching the sunrise (or maybe sunset?) and hero says they had the same ominous feeling. the two of them wonder if they met in a past life.

i don't really know how it ends yet lol. if anyone has any ideas ill be glad to hear em

[strawberriesinmoominvalley]

how to write a panic attack

something like this has probably been made before, but i thought i’d throw my two pence in. so, here’s how to write a panic attack by an anxious mess

what is a panic attack?

a panic attack is where someone feels terrified and scared, without being in any real danger. they mainly occur with people who have anxiety disorders and/or ptsd, although they can happen to anyone.

however, a panic attack isn’t just fear. it causes a physical response. you brain perceives a threat, and goes into fight/flight/freeze. adrenaline is released, your body prepares to react. you become focused on the danger, because your brain has seen a threat and is trying to protect you from the non-existent danger.

what causes them?

panic attacks can happen for no reason, however there is usually a cause. these can be anything, from “this room is loud” to “someone just triggered me by mentioning something to do with my trauma” to “i read something about a phobia i have”. 

if someone is already stressed, or tired, or just not having a good day, that will increase the likeliness of a panic attack. something that might not cause a panic attack on a normal day might cause one on a bad day. sometimes lots of things build up until your brain can’t take it anymore. 

triggers can seem very small. for example, if you’re talking about trauma, it could be the abuser’s name, or a smell that reminds you of something. they can be things that scare a character, or a song -  anything, really. they can seem insignificant, but can cause catastrophic consequences. 

symptoms

everyone experiences panic attacks differently. symptoms are a grab bag and no two people will experience them the same. most people will experience shortness of breath and a racing heart, but apart from that it’s really up to you. the combinations can be weird and strange but hey, that’s anxiety. i’m not going to be able to list every singly symptom here, but i’ll try to list as many as i can:

crippling fear - it comes on the tin, but it can vary. sometimes you’re just terrified, sometimes it feels like nothing good is ever going to happen again, and the world is always going to feel this way. you feel impending doom and fear and it is Bad

being convinced you are going to die. there isn’t really a better way to describe this, you just know this is the end and it is awful

feeling like you are out of control. this usually comes with the more severe ones, as it can feel like you are going crazy

a racing heart - your body feels like it needs to fight or flee from something, so it is preparing to do so

shortness of breath - this is terrifying. it can feel like something is pressing into your chest, and your throat is closing up. you can choke and gasp and never feel like you have enough air. this usually causes you to hyperventilate

dizziness and feeling lightheaded - this usually comes from hyperventilating. your character may hand to sit down suddenly, or, if they’re stubborn like me and refuse to for whatever reason, just dramatically faint

feeling nauseous - most people will feel sick/have terrible stomach cramps, but not throw up. i have, but it’s happened only once

hot/cold flashes

sweating

goosebumps

chest pains - from my experience, your chest just aches and feels heavy, although sometimes it can cause you to double over in pain

crying - anyone can cry during a panic attack. it can cause them to hyperventilate worse, because it’s hard to breathe when you’re sobbing

screaming - sometimes anxiety can come out of anger. they might scream incoherently at people, and can completely wreck their voice in doing so

loss of speech - this can be awful, especially if you’re trying to communicate to someone what’s happening

shaking/trembling - everyone shakes when they’re anxious, but imagine your whole body doing it. you can’t control it, and can barely control your actions

ringing/buzzing ears - this can be mild, or to the point where you can barely hear

talking to yourself/babbling/repeating phrases - your speech isn’t going to be functional. at most, answering yes/no questions and maybe being able to partially describe what’s going on. but mostly, think “ohmygodohmygodohmygod” or “fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck”

freezing - the character might lose the ability to move anywhere. and i mean, they could be in the middle of a road and just freeze. it’s not good

pacing/fidgeting/not being able to stay still - they might throw things, jump around, might even partake in self-injurious behaviour

spiralling thoughts - even if there isn’t a trigger, the character’s inner monologue is going to loop and be incoherent. they’re going to repeat the same thoughts over and over and over. sometimes, when they’ve had it enough, they may also have the “not this again” complaint before the spiralling starts

feeling weak, like you might collapse

derealisation - feeling like everything around you isn’t real, and feeling detached from your surroundings. it feels like your in a dream-like state, or experiencing everything behind glass. it is terrifying. this can cause you to panic more, and may even hurt yourself trying to sense the world

depersonalisation - feeling detached from your body and like you aren’t real. imagine staring in the mirror and not recognise who’s staring back at you. again, terrifying and can lead to harming yourself

these aren’t even all the symptoms you can experience. there’s a lot, and can vary depending on the cause of the panic attack and the severity. for example, i tend to only derealise/depersonalise during a trauma-induced panic attack. symptoms change over time, and some symptoms may only happen during one panic attack and then never again.

writing the panic attack

now, i’m going to break this down into three sections - before the panic attack, during, and after

before the panic attack

first you need to start with the cause, which i’ve already spoken about. once you have that, you need to slowly increase the symptoms. it takes about 30 seconds for the anxiety to set in, so during that time you have to slowly introduce symptoms. if the character realises what’s going on, they may try to use coping mechanisms to stop it, or at the very least make it nicer (i’m going to talk about coping mechanisms a bit later). maybe they can feel their heart pounding, or all their senses sharpen, or their thoughts start to sharpen. it isn’t instant, there’s a build up to it.

during this time, they might run. this is extremely dangerous. they will not have the mental capacity then to think about danger. they could run into roads, hurt themselves in some way or just get lost. this is the one of the only times where a person can override the person’s wishes not to be touched (the other being if they are hurting themselves). them being safe is the highest priority.

during the panic attack

the thing about panic attacks is that they snowball. they get worse and worse until you manage to calm down or just get too exhausted to carry on. panic attacks are terrifying, but the symptoms make it twice as scary. it’s not fun.

you cannot reason your way out of them. your character is going to latch onto worst-case scenarios and nothing will ever be good again. they’re going to spiral, think of the same things over and over and over. they’re not going to think “oh no, i’m panicking”. they might have some control over their thoughts if this is their fiftieth as opposed to their third, but they’re still going to be pretty incoherent.

if this is their first one, they’re going to call an ambulance. i’m not joking. a lot of people have no idea what’s going on, and think they’re dying. it takes a few times for them to piece together what’s going on, and realise they’re having a panic attack. even if they know exactly what’s happening and it’s a regular occurrence, it is still terrifying. at one point, i was having panic attacks ever single day. i knew what was happening, but it was still awful.

the way your character can react can change how it presents. for example, if your character is stubborn, or feels like they’re “weak” because of it (which is totally untrue), maybe they’ll try to hide it. i get dizzy when i have a panic attack, and i used to hide it until suddenly i fainted. so from an external perspective, i was fine and then suddenly i was on the floor - although if someone knows you well, they can work it out regardless, so that can be a nice way to incorporate another character.

maybe your character doesn’t want to address the fact they’re having a panic attack. they could be visibly having one, but point-blank refuse to admit it. this can help show personality, while showing that they’re struggling.

panic attacks can last a few minutes. they can last hours. they are described as brief, but my shortest one has been around 20 minutes - which really isn’t short. my longest was 2 hours, and unsurprisingly, it was my worst. when you’re reaching the 45 minute mark, the format changes. then, it’s more like waves - you get really really scared and it feels awful, then you slowly start to calm down before it starts again.

after the panic attack

once the character has started calming down, whether because they’ve realised it’s been hours and they’re not dying, pure tiredness or getting symptoms under control, they are going to be exhausted.  i’ve passed out from exhaustion before. i’ve fallen asleep in awkward paces (like the middle of the street) because it is so tiring. if they’re outside/at work/school/etc. send them home (this doesn’t happen in real life much, but you can make your world a nice, supportive place). they won’t be able to do anything more taxing than making a cup of tea and cuddling up somewhere. they might not even be able to do that. they might even need someone to grab a blanket for them because the effort is too much.

most people feel more calm afterwards, but you can get awful stomach cramps from the anxiety. but most of the time, all they’re going to feel is tired. don’t put them into a battle. maybe if it’s the morning, they might be able to do something not too taxing in the evening. but most of the time, they’re going to be wiped out.

coping mechanisms

coping mechanisms 90% of the time won’t fix it. a lot of the time, you just have to wait it out. knowing what’s happening helps a lot, and if a character has experienced panic attacks a lot they might understand what’s going on. however, this isn’t always the case. i derealise and depersonalise a lot during panic attacks, but that means that a lot of the time i don’t know what’s happening. it’s terrifying. knowing is a thousand times better than not knowing what’s happening.

obviously there are many breathing techniques - for example, inhale for 4 seconds, hold for 7, exhale for 8. there are grounding techniques - 5 things you can see, 4 things you can gear, 3 things you can touch, 2 things you can smell, 1 thing you can taste. however, i often struggle to remember these because my brain gets pretty frazzled. but they DO work, if you want to include those.

a lot of people say you should hug someone, and to that, i have one word - NO. most people do not want to be touched in that situation, and hugging, especially if it’s a trauma-induced panic attack, could induce flashbacks and cause them more harm. some people do want to be hugged. some people want to be left alone. some people want to be guided through breathing, or given water, or talked to, or to hold a a hand. but!!!! please make your character ask. if that’s all you take away from this, just remember that you have to ask before you touch someone!

everyone copes differently, so bear that in mind

i want to include friends/family/significant others. how do i do that?

if the person is with someone who they feel responsible for, or have never reacted like this around them, they may try and hide what’s happening. this can make it worse, and it is less fun. i don’t want to have a panic attack around my younger sibling, so i try and hide it for as long as i can. so that’s something to think about.

if you want a cute moment where a s/o saves the day, this is not going to be it. a hug from someone nice isn’t going to magically cure the panic attack. hell, a hug might not even help at all. panic attacks are messy and awful. they can give them water, maybe talk to them, try to help them. honestly? the person is going to feel inadequate. there isn’t too much you can do, unfortunately, and they’re going to probably end up sitting there repeating the same few things over and over. but you know what? a love interest sticking with someone during the frightening, ugly hours of terror is sexy.

if you want cuddles, think about afterwards. as i have said, the person is going to be exhausted, and a lot of people will need comfort afterwards. they may even cry a lot, because they feel awful. if they’re not up to that, well maybe your other character can tuck them into bed, or run them a bath. you can have sweet moments, but wait until afterwards for the other to look after them.

-

there we go! i hope i’ve covered everything! if you need help writing scenes like this, message me - i’d be honoured to help!

[purple-dahlias]

Birthdays

🎈 six

She remembers that one, clearly, even now. The last one her father was there for.

At six Sarah is considerably a lot more perceptive than other children her age. She notices her mother’s pinched expression, the fraught looks that pass between her parents. The way her father walks about in a silent rage and her mother purses her lips, as though trying to stop herself from saying something.

That’s how she ends up sitting quietly, trying her best to pretend she isn’t there, a new copy of The Secret Garden open in her lap, legs carefully crossed at the ankles. She’s trying to lose herself in the words. She imagines herself taken away to somewhere strange, somewhere new, just like Mary was.

It seems to be working for her, that is, until she hears Aunt Louise from across the room.

“Poor soul,” she remarks lowly, but loud enough that Sarah hears, and knows she means her. Looking up, curls half obscuring her face, Sarah is just in time to see Aunt Louise lean across and whisper something to Uncle Henry. Something that she knows is about her parents, who, she is sure are both somewhere at opposite ends of the house being mad at each other. That was always the way now.

And then It’s a few weeks later and suddenly, well, not so, if you thought about it like Sarah did, her father is gone. Not coming back, according to her mother. And maybe, Sarah thinks, maybe if she had been better, he would have stayed and things could have changed. 

🎈 thirteen

A birthday’s not about things. It’s not about presents or decorations or balloons. At least, that’s supposed to be the sentiment. But for Sarah’s mother, it’s a different story. 

Sarah comes home to banners and giant helium balloons, a huge expense, but empty. She knows her mother had no personal hand in the matter. It had just been a call to her assistant and an exchange of money. Empty Gestures, like it always was with her mother. 

A store bought cake, perfectly piped with lettering ‘happy thirteenth Sarah’. It is anything but. Maybe it’s selfish but she wishes for a homemade cake, one like she’d heard her classmates talk about. Complain about, even. What she would give for something like that, something that’s not just empty. That would take time and effort and care. Not just a phone call. Because these are all just things. Not the stuff that makes treasured memories. 

There aren’t even people to share it all with. That would require friends. And middle school was lonely. 

So it’s just Sarah, alone at home, her mother didn’t even have it in her to take the time off work for her only daughter. Instead she sits there, at the table in the spotless kitchen, reading and rereading the typed card left for her, hoping somewhere to discern something more from it. Some hidden feelings in the black and white. But there aren’t. 

Maybe one day, she thinks, though it’s probably wishful thinking. She’s not six anymore, holding onto hope for change.

🎈 fifteen

High school is a little different, a little brighter. She’s changed schools, there are girls who it seems actually like her. Ones she can count as friends. And that’s how she finds herself in the cinema with Harriett and Grace and Marya the evening of her fifteenth birthday. 

She’s sat on the end of the row, beside Grace, sharing her popcorn with her and a fizzy drink that’s just a little too sweet for her liking. But Sarah doesn’t care because Grace holds her hand practically throughout the whole of the film. Sarah doesn’t really think the film is that scary but she’s willing to pretend as Grace holds her hand tightly, leaning close to her in her seat so that Sarah can smell the floral scent of the perfume she’s started wearing, the one that smells of jasmine and bergamot, coincidently two of Sarah’s favourite scents, though she can’t quite remember if she ever told Grace that. 

Grace laughs quietly at something on screen beside her, and Sarah thinks it’s a wonderful sound, like music. She loves knowing when she makes her laugh like that. Wouldn’t mind being able to do that more often. 

But it’s all a little bittersweet, because Grace will be gone by September, by the time the new school term starts. She’s moving with her family to Seattle, so if something ever could have come of them, neither will ever know. 

🎈 nineteen

Sarah feels freer now. She’s in college, out in the world, never mind that her world mainly consists of campus, her dorm, the little cafe down on Elm and the library. 

People are still hard, and her circle of people is ridiculously small, but not for lack of trying. There isn’t much time for friends, anyhow she tells herself. Her goal here is to do well. She has to do well. She is, and that’s her consolation. 

But it’s her birthday and she’s tired and her heart is heavy and she just wants to not feel so alone. So it’s probably a poor decision but it’s summer and she’s alone in her dorm, most other people having left for the holidays; she just can’t stomach going back, and in any case doesn’t think her mum would even miss her presence. There are no calls or messages from the few friends she’d had in high school. Nothing. Which hurts, because she always remembers their birthdays. But maybe they didn’t feel the same way. They’d moved on, probably; she should too. 

It’s just her in her dorm, alone that Monday night.

It’s impulsive, and she’ll regret it later, she knows, but the bottle is right there in her cupboard and even if it’s for a little bit, she just wants to forget, to not think, to lose focus. Even if it’s only temporary. 

The one and only time she allows herself to do this, truly let go of herself like this. And it’s not one of those wild stories to be told later and made light of, it’s not a party or surrounded by friends. It’s just her, alone with the bottle, trying to rid herself of her thoughts. 

🎈 twenty-six 

Sarah is exhausted. Her rotation in the ED is taking its toll on her. The shifts, the long days and nights. But this is everything she had been working towards. What practically everything she had done since she was sixteen had been for. 

So that evening, all she wants to do is to go home, order some takeout from the ramen place she likes and maybe watch a movie. Just something quiet with herself. 

She’s just home and showered, hair still damp and hanging loose when her phone rings. Unusual. Hardly anyone ever called her. What’s even more unusual is that it’s Natalie from Med calling her, and Sarah wonders what on earth she could want at this time of the evening, especially when neither of them have a night shift that day. 

She picks up, to hear Natalie asking if she could come round and watch Owen because she needed to run out to the grocery store and there was no one else to. 

Sarah sighs inwardly. So much for her quiet night. But she goes. It’s not like she had any real plans tonight. If anything, watching Owen might be a help. She knows sitting in front of the TV, especially tonight, would lead her mind to wander. To places and thoughts she didn’t want it to go. It was probably for the best. So she pulls on jeans and a sweater and goes. 

Natalie answers the door, pulling Sarah inside. “Thank you so much for coming, honestly I don’t know what else I would have done,” she gushes.

“Don’t mention it—“ Sarah begins, but the words die on her lips as Natalie leads her into the kitchen. 

April is there, holding Owen, and Maggie is beside her with Noah and Ethan and Connor and Will and a few of the others. 

“Happy Birthday!” They all call out in unison, smiles on their faces and Owen waving his small fists, not quite understanding, but knowing something good is happening.  

Sarah is completely taken aback. She hadn’t been expecting anything, let alone this. She didn’t even think they all knew when her birthday was. 

“You didn’t think we were gonna leave you all on your one, did you?” Maggie asks, pulling her into a tight embrace. 

This, Sarah thinks, is what a family must feel like. 

🎈 twenty-seven

So much has changed. For one thing, Sarah’s a psych resident now. Something she never thought she would be, but she’s enjoying it. For another, and this is the biggest one, there’s Ava. And that is amazing and terrifying in equal parts all at the same time. 

Ava wouldn’t  tell her where they were going. Only that it required Sarah to dress up. It turned out to be a fancy Italian restaurant, one that apparently Ava had had her eyes on for months for this very occasion. Sarah had never really been one for grand gestures, considering her mother’s track record with them; they’d always felt empty. But with Ava, it is completely, entirely different. The way Ava is excited about it probably more than Sarah, because she loves surprising her, seeing her happy. And that, for Sarah, makes the day. Because it is so genuine and heartfelt. 

Sarah can’t think of a time where she’s felt lighter than she does now. 

But that’s not even everything. They get home, and Ava leads Sarah to the couch, telling her to sit, and disappears off into the kitchen. She’s only gone for a short time, and when she returns, she’s bearing a decadent chocolate cake on a platter, iced with ‘happy birthday Sarah,’ in Ava’s familiar, looping script, candles flickering in the dim light. Ava made this. For her. 

It’s perfect, and she tells her so as Ava sets the platter down on the coffee table in front of her. 

“Blow out the candles,” Ava says softly, and Sarah does, as her girlfriend snaps a photo of her, smiles etched on both their faces. 

“Thank you,” Sarah tells her quietly as Ava comes to sit beside her, placing a kiss to her lips.  

“Happy birthday, my love,” whispers Ava when they break apart. And it is. Completely. 

[heartlandians]

Season 15 finds Heartland characters moving on, living life to the fullest after grief and loss

'This season coming up really focused on that growth and moving forward and being able to see that light at the end of the tunnel,' Marshall says

Earlier this month, actress Amber Marshall met a woman who may be the world’s biggest Heartland fan.

This designation is not handed out lightly. Now entering its 15th season, CBC’s Sunday night mainstay airs in 119 countries around the world and is the longest-running hour-long drama in the history of Canadian television. It has no shortage of devotees.

Marshall met the woman a few weeks back while grocery shopping. She was from France and, like many, her life had been upended by the pandemic. She was at an all-time low, so decided on a drastic change in her life. She would seek out and move to the place that brought her the most peace, which happened to be the fictional town of Hudson and foothills of the Rockies that are featured in the TV series she had been watching religiously for 15 years. It was a world that made her happy.

“The first thing that came to mind was Heartland,” says Marshall, who has played Amy Fleming on the show since it debuted in 2007. “She said, ‘I’m going go there. I’m going to move there.’ And she did. She picked everything up, left everything behind and moved to Alberta because Heartland makes her happy. It’s phenomenal to me. She hardly speaks any English. So she was telling me this in a very broken story. But she said it was very scary to move somewhere where you don’t speak the language, you don’t know anyone. But she said it always gave her peace knowing that this is where Heartland was.

“To me, it still blows my mind. But I hear stories like this all the time. To know that people can see this and it brings them happiness, it brings them contentment and that’s where they want to live even if they have that language barrier, even if they don’t know anyone. They know that is what they want in their life.”

Heartland has long been a tonic for troubled times, a peaceful distraction no matter what else was happening in the world. For 15 years, fans have spent their Sunday evenings watching the motherless Fleming sisters Amy and Lou (played by Marshall and Michelle Morgan) come of age on a ranch run by their gruff but kindly grandfather Jack Bartlett (Shaun Johnston). Central to the plot was the romance between Amy and Ty Borden, the stable boy turned veterinarian played by Graham Wardle. The relationship had its gentle ups and downs, but by Season 13 he had become a loving husband and father of a young daughter.

So Heartland faced its biggest dilemma yet when Wardle decided to leave the show, a jarring blow for a series that had more or less kept a stable cast and crew for most of its existence. The writers and producers settled on what would become the show’s most devastating twist, which was to have Ty drop dead as the series entered its 14th season.

Marshall, who is an active presence on social media and likes to interact with fans, knew this narrative would be shocking. But even she was taken aback by the response.

“I didn’t realize how deeply that story would impact people,” Marshall says. “I’m talking about people who would write me and say, ‘I haven’t slept for a week straight. I’ve been crying myself to sleep.’ In my mind, I’m thinking, ‘This is a story. The person who plays that character is alive and well, there’s nothing wrong with that person.’ But it’s so real to a lot of people and they’ve lived with that character for 14 years. So that was a traumatic loss, especially at a time when so many people were down — COVID has really taken a lot of happiness out of everyday things. So a lot of people were at a low spot and then when this happened, it was such a traumatic experience.”

Producers and writers were determined not to downplay the loss. Much of Season 14 revolved around the characters coming to terms with their grief. In Season 15, which debuts Oct. 17 on CBC, Ty has not been forgotten by his family and friends, but most of the characters are determined to enter a period of renewal and live life to the fullest. Grandpa Jack, tired of hearing he is too old to run a ranch, decides to ramp up his operations. Tim Fleming, the occasionally self-serving father of Amy and Lou, will apparently drop a bombshell early in the season. Amy, meanwhile, must come to terms with being a single mother of a four-year-old daughter. She will also begin mentoring some new characters.

“This season coming up really focused on that growth and moving forward and being able to see that light at the end of the tunnel,” Marshall says. “The character of Ty will never be forgotten. He was such a big part of the show, he was such a big part of Amy’s life and the Heartland family. But tragic events happen in our lives and what Season 15 is, for me and my character, is being there for those you love and those that are in your life.”

Season 14 was not an easy shoot, and not just because of the themes of loss and grief. It was also shot during the pandemic in Calgary, Longview, High River and Millarville. Shooting under restrictions is draining and added an extra layer of stress to a season that was already unusually dark in its themes, Marshall says.

Filming Season 15, which began in June, was also difficult. For the first time, there were significant changes in the film’s crew due to the busyness of the Alberta film industry. Marshall says there was an 83 per cent turnover, which in some cases meant saying goodbye to workers who had been with the show since the beginning.

Still, like many fans, Marshall has found a home with Heartland. She has never been one of those actresses who uses her hiatuses to pursue other roles. When not filming, she prefers a quiet life with her husband on their ranch in rural Alberta.

“I’m just so lucky that the show found me and correlates with everything I love to do in my life,” Marshall says. “When it’s not filming, I just want to hang out on my ranch with my animals and husband and just wake up every morning and do chores. I do all the same things my character does onscreen. To me, that’s what life is about. It’s not about chasing anything. It’s about finding contentment in exactly what you’re doing in day-to-day life.”

Season 15 of Heartland debuts Oct. 17 on CBC TV and CBC Gem.

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