#<- just to make this easy to find. just in case

[carmenlikeme]

The decision to have a second child with Robby isn't an easy one.

You both want to. Your first baby was and still is your biggest blessing; you would never regret them, and there wasn't a moment when you didn't think about having another baby. At least two children. Three, if you felt like you could survive not sleeping for over 12 consecutive years.

But your first pregnancy had been so difficult for you, you had doubts.

Well, Robby had doubts.

During your first trimester, you were barely able to drink water before wanting to throw up. Dana recommended some anti-nausea medication, and Robby decided to pick up the least amount of shifts he could to make sure you were okay, always by your side, and just right behind you as you collapsed on the tiled floor.

Your second trimester was a bliss, full of cute pictures, early maternity shoots, and an intimate gender reveal where Robby cried his eyes out after finding out he was gonna become a girl dad. Endless purchases and moodboards for the nursery. You couldn't ask for anything better.

Then, the third trimester came, and with that, the early-onset preeclampsia.

You spend most of your days in bed now, just standing up to go to the bathroom, and even then, you're being looked after when you walk, even for a few steps. When you are close to 34 weeks, you both decide to admit you to the hospital for monitoring, and Robby feels so much better knowing you're only a few floors away.

That's why he looks so stressed, speaking to Dana about how you both want it, but you might consider adoption to avoid putting you at risk once more. Javadi is close by, and before she can stop herself, she opens her mouth to speak.

"Dr. Robby, did you know that 13% of preeclampsia cases are attributed to paternal factors? There's this study that says that while women's genetics are the most important, if the father was born from a pregnancy with preeclampsia. It's generally attributed to 13% from the father, there's another..."

"Hey, crash! I need your help!" Santos interjects, pulling her by her sweatshirt and dragging her away against her will.

Robby stands still next to Dana, who isn't sure if she should kill Victoria just yet. He pauses, tries to find something to say.

"Is that true?" he asks.

"What's true?" Samira joins the conversation, a tablet in her hand. "Mr. Murphy is ready for discharge."

"Javadi just said preeclampsia can be attributed to paternal factors," he says, his tone is almost sarcastic.

"Oh, yeah. There are a lot of new studies about that, also about how paternal diet, mental health, and exercise habits can have an impact on a pregnancy. There's also a greater risk of a premature birth if the father is over 45, so..."

The rest of the conversation and the day go by in a blink. Robby goes home defeated. And there you are, the TV is on, but you're fast asleep with your baby girl on your chest. He smiles, and for a moment, he forgets about the thing that almost made him spiral.

You wake up 30 minutes later. He's cleaning, and you're sure there's a new load of laundry already in the washer. You want to stand up, but your baby is just so comfortable there, you don't wanna wake her up.

"Good morning, love," he says when he walks back into the room. He leans in, careful enough not to disturb his daughter, and kisses you softly. "I missed you two."

"Thank god you have the weekend off," you whisper. "She didn't take a nap today."

"Well, she's almost one. She wants to conquer the world, but her body isn't letting her. Now that she's walking, she'll be unstoppable."

He sits next to you, and even as careful as he is, your baby wakes up. Her bright eyes open, Robby immediately grabs her from your chest and pulls her onto his.

"Show daddy your new shirt, baby," you say. She's still sleepy, but immediately cries when she is far away from you. She cries and tries to crawl back to you immediately. "This kid, she wouldn't even let me go to pee for two seconds."

She sits up on your lap, and it's only then that Robby pulls down her shirt to see it. His hand stays there, frozen, as he reads the words over and over again. He feels like choking up. It's like you're both back in your old apartment, cramped in the tiny bathroom as you wait for the pregnancy test results.

Best Big Sister.

He doesn't know how long it takes him to turn to you, but there you are, holding a pregnancy test that says "Pregnant. 3-4 weeks". You're crying, and he doesn't know when he started crying with you.

"Surprise!" you whisper, choked up. "I guess it's happening."

He kisses you again, this time he takes his time, despite how much your daughter babbles and screams. Just for a second, he kisses you like the world is about to end in just a moment.

"I guess it is."

Nothing matters, just for a second. It's just him, you and your little family.

© CARMENLIKEME 2025. All rights reserved. Do not repost, modify or claim as yours.

[girly-girlk]

Hi! I don’t know if you’ve already written something like this, but if not could you write a fic about firefighter Rafe and reader meeting? Like maybe she’s a waitress at the firehouse’s favorite diner?

diner

firefighter!rafe cameron x reader

summary: rafe is a regular at the diner you work at

a/n: sorry this one took so long, but i absolutely love it! i hope you enjoy!!💕

the bell above the door jingles at exactly 9:14 a.m.

like clockwork.

you’re already behind the counter, tying your apron tight and jotting down today’s pie special on the chalkboard when they come in — the southport fire crew. four of them, loud and laughing, tracking in sand and smoke and the faint scent of cedarwood. they pile into their usual booth like it’s their booth, and honestly, maybe it is.

you’ve been working at shoreline diner for two weeks now. long enough to learn their orders, but not long enough to stop watching one of them a little too closely.

rafe cameron.

he’s the last to come in, always is. tall, sun-tanned, with a jawline you could cut yourself on and arms that strain the sleeves of his navy uniform t-shirt. there’s a lazy swagger to the way he walks, like he knows people watch him.

he definitely knows you do.

“morning, darlin’,” topper grins, flipping his menu even though he always orders the same thing.

“french toast and black coffee, i know,” you say, already scribbling it down. “kelce, eggs over easy, bacon burnt to hell—”

“you get me,” kelce winks.

and then your pen stalls.

rafe lides into the booth last, glancing up at you with that maddeningly calm expression he always wears — like he’s not even trying to be charming, he just is. you swear there’s the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, but it’s gone too quick to be sure.

“you takin’ care of us today?” he asks, voice low and scratchy like he just woke up.

“i guess that depends,” you shoot back, trying not to sound breathless. “you planning to tip better than last time?”

topper howls. rafe raises both eyebrows, mock-offended.

“she got you there, man,” jj grins around a mouthful of hash browns from someone else’s plate.

rafe doesn’t take his eyes off you.

“i’ll make it up to you,” he says. not a joke. not a line. just a promise that settles deep in your chest, low and warm.

you don’t reply. you can’t — not without your voice shaking — so you nod and head toward the kitchen, scribbling “pancakes, extra butter, side of sausage” on your pad before he even says it.

⸻

they’re halfway through their meal when the first call comes in. the scanner at the counter crackles to life, dispatch barking out a structure fire off main.

rafe is already standing, sliding cash under his plate, eyes on you.

“you work weekends?” he asks, helmet tucked under one arm, sweat already glinting at his temple.

“every saturday.”

his tongue clicks against his teeth like he’s thinking, and then he says it — casual, quiet, but somehow not at all forgettable:

“see you then.”

you nod again, pulse skittering.

and when they’re gone, when the door swings shut behind all that smoke and static and adrenaline, you find yourself looking at the tip he left.

twenty bucks. on a ten-dollar order.

and a note scribbled on the napkin:

“in case i don’t get to tell you next time: you’ve got the prettiest smile i’ve ever seen.” — r”

you stare at it for a long moment, then fold it carefully and tuck it into your apron pocket.

⸻

you don’t know it yet, but that saturday? he’ll come in alone.

and you’ll sit at his booth during your break.

and he’ll ask if you want to grab coffee somewhere that isn’t where you work.

but for now, you just stand there — heart racing, hand pressed to a napkin — knowing full well this isn’t the end of anything.

it’s the start.

[svnscape]

epilogue: i hate u i love u

the whole house was quiet. jaemin’s snores were abnormally loud and even louder during summertime, even with the air-conditioning on, which meant haechan’s hopes of sleeping tonight were completely ruined.

summer vacation, before a whole new beginning for everyone, had just kickstarted but haechan couldn’t find the tiniest bit of joy to fully immerse himself into it, even if he was currently sleeping in a multimillionaire’s house, on a beyond comfortable mattress with the air conditioning on full blast.

he just couldn’t.

plus the fact that it was impossible for him to sleep off his thoughts, as jaemin’s snores grew even louder, made haechan groan and jump off the bed to head to another room.

chenle had given him full access to a ginormous room where haechan conveniently put all of his stuff in, in case he couldn’t sleep or wanted more peace.

even if he doesn’t act like it, chenle was very observant and caring towards all of his friends and recently, especially to haechan as he noticed the shifts in his behavior ever since all of them graduated.

he knew he was going through it, immensely, and the only way he could cheer him up was by shutting up and giving him the peace and quiet he needed sometimes.

so that is where haechan heads off to, his footsteps barely audible on this very shiny floor, as he made his way towards the end of the hall.

it was very quiet and smelled like expensive lavender, if that was even a thing.

he genuinely loved this room and its huge and bouncy duvet, as haechan spent most of his time here, listening to music and looking at your instagram account.

yes he was very much stalking you and he would rather die than have his friends find out about this new hyperfixation.

but tonight he had different plans as he finally eyes that small black and very worn out object sitting on top of his laptop.

mark’s usb.

i mean it was about time he finds out what’s in it and get it over with and he was obviously not enjoying this vacation, so whatever that usb holds, it had no hopes of ruining his already very monotonous and rotting summer.

so he sits down on the desk and plugs that usb in, without a second thought.

he just wanted it to be over.

but that usb had other plans as it took forever to load its files onto haechan’s computer, making him close his eyes and sigh in despair.

nothing about mark came on easy and it was genuinely making him loose his mind.

but then finally, the 3 files had loaded and haechan’s heartbeat spiked.

why the hell was he nervous?

he eyes them for a good ten minutes before he finally decided to open the first one, on the left of the screen, that was named “read first”

he clicks on it to find a small and simple untitled word file.

so he clicks again.

hey! it’s your markie. sorry you already know that. i’m nervous typing this out when you’re literally a hallway away from me. it’s 4am and you looked exhausted today so i’m guessing you’re sound asleep. i can’t sleep though.

anyways i’m sorry if this was corny or uncomfortable. i’m sure you’re wondering why the hell did i leave you a usb hahah. you probably called me old too, i know you very well hae.

but yeah, other than this file you’ll find two other ones, one named haechan and the other named tunes. open them both.

the haechan file has all the demos we recorded almost three years ago. yeah i kept them and i listened to them almost everyday. it also has demos i recorded later on and thought they’d only sound good with your voice in them. i don’t know if you’ll like them or even listen to them but please consider them as an apology. i would love for you to grace them with your voice haechan.

the tunes file has all of my unreleased songs. i’m still waiting for the approval of my label but there’s one song i’ve been waiting to release — i hate u i love u. i don’t care if my label says yes or no but i need your approval first. i’m sorry but it’s a song about you and it’ll mean the whole universe to me if you’d listen to it and tell me if i can release it, i won’t do it without your approval.

please let me know, please.

before you close this file, please let me say;

hae… i’m sorry for everything. i was scared because i felt myself feel too deeply about you and i had to choose between you, my career and another person who i’ve come to realize that i just ruined their time and made them believe in something that was never meant to go further. for some reason, i always loose my words when it comes to you but i think my song will explain it all: so again, please listen to it. i won’t release it unless you allow me to.

bye.

- mark minhyung lee

click here to listen to mark lee’s latest single — lyrics down below

Feeling used, but I'm still missing you

And I can't see the end of this

Just wanna feel your kiss

Against my lips

And now all this time

Is passing by

But I still can't seem to tell you why

It hurts me every time I see you

Realize how much I need you

I hate you I love you

I hate that I love you

Don't want to, but I can't put

Nobody else above you

I hate you I love you

I hate that I want you

You want her, you need her

And I'll never be her

I miss you when I can't sleep

Or right after coffee

Or right when I can't eat

I miss you in my front seat

Still got sand in my sweaters

From nights we don't remember

Do you miss me like I miss you?

Fucked around and got attached to you

Friends can break your heart too, and

I'm always tired but never of you

If I pulled a you on you, you wouldn't like that shit

I put this reel out, but you wouldn't bite that shit

I type a text but then I nevermind that shit

I got these feelings but you never mind that shit

Oh oh, keep it on the low

You're still in love with me but your friends don't know

If u wanted me you would just say so

And if I were you, I would never let me go

I don't mean no harm

I just miss you on my arm

Wedding bells were just alarms

Caution tape around my heart

You ever wonder what we could have been?

You said you wouldn't and you fucking did

Lie to me, lie with me, get your fucking fix

Now all my drinks and all my feelings are all fucking mixed

Always missing people that I shouldn't be missing

Sometimes you gotta burn some bridges just to create some distance

I know that I control my thoughts and I should stop reminiscing

But I learned from my dad that it's good to have feelings

When love and trust are gone

I guess this is moving on

Everyone I do right does me wrong

So every lonely night, I sing this song

I hate you I love you

I hate that I love you

Don't want to, but I can't put

Nobody else above you

I hate you I love you

I hate that I want you

You want her, you need her

And I'll never be her

All alone I watch you watch her

Like she's the only girl you've ever seen

You don't care you never did

You don't give a damn about me

Yeah all alone I watch you watch her

She's the only thing you've ever seen

How is it you never notice

That you are slowly killing me

I hate you I love you

I hate that I love you

Don't want to, but I can't put

Nobody else above you

I hate you I love you

I hate that I want you

You want her, you need her

And I'll never be her

coming soon, in september: i hate u? i love u? season two — don’t

new scene, new people and old appearances. will your relationship with haechan hold strong or will you both go back to old habits? don’t get tempted.

prev — m.list

taglist: @bbykaixx @alwayswonbinning @weepingsweep @dudekiss3r @kukkurookkoo @hoeingthefuckup @gomdoleemyson @haeclips @luvvhaechan @hsified @heegyuwrld @lubunnii @firydst @daengiez @nahyuckers @httpsxnox @n0hyuck @hi00000234567 @scoobysnackszoo @minkyuncutie @yuthabitz @haechology @neogotmysam @sanniekook @kisseokiss @nqyzhuo @kooookie @lovenha7 @andassortedkpop @jising-jisang-jisung @markleesleftpinky @ourbeautifulaffair @dilflover44 @nctdreamchaser @leehaechie @nosungluv

a/n: and it’s overrrr

yes this smau was inspired by the song — i hate u, i love u

i was obsessed with this song when i was younger lmao.

anyways. thank you so much guys! seriously!!! you’ve made my experience of posting my first smau on tumblr so good and fun i will never thank you enough.

i’m still gonna spend more time focusing on this story and universe so please interact and come to my asks with anything you’d like to say. i’d be beyond happy answering you.

also it’ll make me very happy if you guys would tune in for my next series which i’ve already spoiled the title of (reflections). more infos about it will be posted soon hehehe.

again, thank you and i love you all!!!

see you soon for the second season.

mwah!!!!

— ruby.

[novaneet]

(Calvin Gabriel x Reader / Lazy kisses in bed / Avoidant Behavior / Brushing you off)

(("Why do they have phones?" Because I want them too.))

“You could've called me, yknow.”

He cracks one eye open, lips twitching up. “Was out with Andre.”

The words hit sharper than they should. You still your hand, heart skipping. He watches your reaction, lets it hang there, just long enough to hurt.

“'Course you were” you murmur.

And just like that, he closes his eyes again. Conversation over. You don’t get a response. You just sit there with your thoughts clenching around your ribs.

Then — like he senses the quiet has turned dangerous — Cal sighs. “C’mere,” he mumbles, rolling onto his back and tugging at your wrist.

You let him guide you down beside him. Let him tuck his cold, cold hands under your sweatshirt like he always does. He grins against your neck when you yelp, kissing your artery softly.

“Still hate that?” he whispers, hands trailing up towards your chest.

“You’re the worst," you mumble, but you're already letting him curl into you.

You shouldn’t have asked to come over this weekend.

That’s your first thought when Cal opens the door with sleep still clinging to his skin. His eyes are hazy, band tee wrinkled, mouth curled in a lazy smirk that doesn’t quite meet his dimples or his eyes.

But he let you in his house without a word. Just a lopsided smile and a lazy, “Hey.”

You follow him into his living room, stairs, bedroom, stepping over a pile of crumpled clothes and notebooks. His room smells like detergent, incense, and something sharper — gasoline? The bed’s unmade. His guitar case is still open from yesterday.

You spend a moment or two critiquing the state of his room. He spends a moment or two ignoring you.

Now, somehow, you find yourself lying on his bed, his head in your lap as he lays on his side. He's rambling on about a niche webcomic he recently came across. His fingers are tracing absent patterns on your thigh, eyes half-closed, body limp like a cat in a sunbeam.

“Rough night?” you ask as you take in the sight of his eyebags, running your fingers through his hair gently.

He shrugs, eyes still closed. “I slept. It's just always rough.”

“You could've called me, yknow.”

He cracks one eye open, lips twitching up. “Was out with Andre.”

The words hit sharper than they should. You still your hand, heart skipping. He watches your reaction, lets it hang there, just long enough to hurt.

“'Course you were” you murmur.

And just like that, he closes his eyes again. Conversation over. You don’t get a response. You just sit there with your thoughts clenching around your ribs.

Then — like he senses the quiet has turned dangerous — Cal sighs. “C’mere,” he mumbles, rolling onto his back and tugging at your wrist.

You let him guide you down beside him. Let him tuck his cold, cold hands under your sweatshirt like he always does. He grins against your neck when you yelp, kissing your artery softly.

“Still hate that?” he whispers, hands trailing up towards your chest.

“You’re the worst," you mumble, but you're already letting him curl into you.

He chuckles softly, and for a second, it's easy to forget the hollow underneath it all. He buries his face in your shoulder, mumbles things that barely make sense. Your fingers rake through his hair. His hands roam lazily over your body, not quite desperate, just… searching. Maybe for comfort. Maybe for distraction.

When he kisses you, it’s slow. A little messy. He smiles when you sigh into it, like he’s proud of how easy it is to pull you back in.

“You’re quiet today,” you whisper, touching his jaw. You bite the bottom of his lip and he smiles.

Calvin pulls back just slightly, free hand trailing up your thigh. “Think you like it when I’m quiet.”

“Mmm, no… I like it when you’re real.”

He freezes for half a second. Then he grins, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Don’t start that right now.”

“I’m not starting anything—”

“Yes. Yes you are.” He rolls onto his back, arm over his eyes again. “Just — don’t ruin it, okay?”

Your chest tightens. You stare at him, at the boy who gives just enough to keep you hopeful and never enough to let you in.

"Okay," you whisper back, lips searching down to reach his once more.

An hour or so passed and you came to realize his pillows smelled like worn cotton and shampoo and something vaguely sweet—probably yours. Hopefully. You lay there half-curled under his sheets, still a little foggy from the lazy makeout session and whatever kind of affection he'd decided to grant you that afternoon. For a few minutes, it had almost felt real. Like he meant it.

And then his phone buzzes.

You both hear it.

Cal jolts like it bit him, snatches it off the nightstand. You sit up as he reads the message, screen casting cold light across his face.

He doesn’t tell you who it’s from. He doesn’t have to.

You already know.

“Is that Andre?” you ask.

No answer.

You watch it change him.

His posture shifts, eyes clearing like fog evaporating. The sluggishness drains from his limbs as he types back fast. Efficient. Excited.

“Everything okay?” you ask. Your voice tries for casual, but his body’s already pulling away from yours.

“I gotta go.”

Your mouth opens before you can stop it. “Wait—seriously? Now?”

“Yeah. Had this planned since last week.” Cal is already sliding off the bed, searching for his hoodie. "He's gonna be here in 5."

“And you still let me come ov—?”

“Look, it’s not a big deal. Besides, you're the one that asked.”

You watch him from the bed, sheets tangled around your legs, heart thudding like a dropped phone.

“Are we… still hanging out tomorrow?”

He stops halfway through pulling on his jacket, eyes flicking to yours. His smile is that same vague one he always gives when he doesn’t want to answer.

“Sure. Text me.”

You know exactly what that means.

You don’t say anything else. Just sit there, arms wrapped around your knees, while he paces around, grabbing keys, phone, wallet.

Then the knock comes.

One soft rap at the door.

Andre.

Cal opens it without hesitation.

And just like that, it’s a different Cal standing there. Head high. Shoulders back. Voice clearer.

“Took you long enough, man” Calvin says with a crooked grin, dimples diving deeper than usual. It's only when he's looking at Andre that you can tell his eyes are blue.

Andre shrugs, hoodie pulled up, hands in his pockets. "Traffic is…," His eyes flick past Cal — and land on you, just briefly. "Traffic's a bitch."

You feel like a ghost in Cal’s bed.

Cal steps into the hallway, then pauses. Turns to you with a tone that’s almost— almost —gentle.

“You can stay,” he says. “If you want.”

There’s something weirdly tender about the way he says it.

And then, like a reflex:

“Just don’t go through my shit.”

You almost laugh. Almost cry.

He lingers one more moment in the doorway. For a second, something crosses his face—guilt? Conflict? Or maybe just the weight of pretending to care.

“My parents will be gone for a few,” he says.

And then he’s gone.

The door shuts behind him, and the room is too quiet. Too still.

You lie back down in the sheets, but they’ve already gone cold.

[weiszklee]

The other problem with rent control is that it can incentivize weird shit like people holding onto leases on flats and subletting bc they can make money from the large arbitrage between the rent the market will bear and the rent they are paying (cf Berlin). Even where it’s dubiously legal it’s hard to enforce, and bc finding a flat is incredibly difficult (due in part to rent control) renters will still take that deal if they have to. You can try to ban that sort of thing, but as long as there’s a strong incentive toward it, bans are at best going to require costly enforcement efforts. In that way you can create a situation where renting is great if you’ve been living in the same flat for the last fifteen years but really bad if you need to move for some reason, and given that people will often need to move for various reasons (they have kids and need bigger space, they want to downsize or save and need less, they want to move closer to their job or to a specific neighborhood to be near an ailing relative etc) you’re just shifting the friction of the rental market from the Kaltmiete sticker price to spending months or years having to hunt for flats.

If you want to keep rents low or lower them, it’s much better to directly put downward pressure on rents by building extensively, than to enact awkward price control schemes that have lots of weird side effects from market distortions. As triv says, rent control isn’t a big deal if you pair it as a sop to renters along side good policy, but many cities treat rent control as sufficient. I think this is because enacting rent control is seen as “doing something” and relieves political pressure, even if it doesn’t on its own relieve scarcity. It would be better if rent control was off the table, so that if politicians wanted to be seen to be doing something, they were forced to look at other policies.

I suspect rent control is also better for property owners—it usually lapses when a new tenant takes over, or owners are allowed to increment the rent more, so rents can still rise in principle, keeping property values higher. Building more reduces the rate of rent rise in a more durable way (or, if you really go all out, lowers rents), which is terrific for renters but bad for existing property owners. Obviously it would be better for owners if there was no rent control, but if you had to choose between the value of your property rising more slowly and the value becoming stagnant or falling you would choose the first.

Okay yeah I agree that building more is better than rent control on its own, but that does not make rent control in general bad. Absent other options or, as in the discussed case, alongside other measures, rent control does indeed do something and isn't just for appearances.

To be fair, my personal experience with renting is only in flatshares. The one I am living in right now has existed for decades, with inhabitants slowly rotating in and out, thus keeping the GbR (which is the actual renting party) instact and keeping rent low. Of course this is not an option for families, but like ... every person who is helped by a policy is a win. That it isn't helping everyone is not an argument against it. (I realize this is easy to say when I am one of the people who are in fact benefitting.)

Subletting for profit defeats the purpose, of course, and should be restricted or at least heavily taxed. I am not like familiar with the matter, but intuitively this seems hard to hide from bureaucracies. Is this actually that big of a problem? I have never lived in Berlin.

and bc finding a flat is incredibly difficult (due in part to rent control)

Again here is the implication of a causation. How does rent control induce scarcity if it doesn't even apply to newly built houses? It should have no effect either way on incentives for building. It helps the people already living there, but that does not mean it screws over those who want to move to a city, it should just have no effect on them. Unless, I guess, you think people stay living in the city despite wanting to move away just because they are in a rent controlled flat, which I don't think is very common. Like, there will be a few people who this describes, but this should not make a significant dent in supply.

About politicians choosing to do rent control over incentivising building more just because it's easier, I have no idea how to evaluate if this is a big problem. Sure rent control might silence the nagging renters a little, but housing scarcity has a lot of detrimental effects besides making renters complain to politicians. Politicians should already want to solve this.

[quinloki]

I am very much of the “you have GOT to create for YOU.” crowd, but also 1,000% - you are, in fact, reaching out for community and support when you share your creations.

Both can be true.

It is not impossible to create for your soul specifically AND want others to resonate with it.

That said, if you’re struggling to find community, support, or feedback, and it is making you hurt, you either need to step back and reassess, or look for a different hobby. If community fulfills your creativity and you’re not finding that community you need to make sure you’re not hurting yourself in the long run.

I set down writing for ten years, I thought I’d walked away from it completely. I didn’t find the support I needed, just frustration, cruel feedback, and callous indifference. I beat myself up thinking that I just didn’t love writing enough to power through the struggles and if that was the case I should simply never write again.

When I picked up the pen again it was to write to indulge myself and no one else. I was desperate to sate the near manic NEED that had gripped me. For the first couple months my friends were concerned because I was writing 40-50k words a month.

I found community I wasn’t expecting, or looking for, and I am extremely grateful for it, and exceptionally lucky to have fallen into it.

My experience is my own, it might be useless knowledge for some, but it might help others. It’s hard. There’s no easy solution, no smooth path, no quick fix - and anyone saying otherwise should be regarded warily.

The right choice is hardly the easy one, and the correct path is only ever clear in hindsight. In the end you have to do the best you can, and be kind to yourself no matter those choices.

And yes! If you read or see something you like, Say So! You don’t have to create to be part of a community, but you do have to communicate!!

i do write for attention, actually, because that's a normal reason to create art

[paramountinplace]

Thoughts on how they’d act at bedtime? Here are some of mine, I’d love to hear yours

Van would be the most hard to put down when she was feeling small I think because she’d hate being bored and have so much energy. She’d try to distract Tai for as long as possible and insist she needs some colder water in her sippy cup, some goldfish please (and pinch her fingers to show she needs a little bit). She’d also insist she needs to go to the bathroom at least 3 times even if she doesn’t actually have to. Van would sometimes ask for a pull up if she was worried about having an accident, or Tai would give her one so she’d stop getting up to try going. She wouldn’t be able to fall asleep without someone rubbing her back. Tai sometimes gives her a teether or a paci to calm her down.

Mel would be easy to get down usually, unless the “sweet spot” was missed and she got overtired. Sometimes this happens when she joins Van in acting up at night. When she is overtired then she gets super teary and fussy, refusing to brush her teeth and just sit on the floor because she doesn’t want to go to bed, getting mad when Tai picked out a pull up for her and didn’t let her do it herself, after Tai put her hair in two braids she’d cry because she just wanted one, etc. cg Shauna would be good at dealing with her when she got like this, picking her up and rubbing her back till she fell asleep.

Mari would be fine as long as everybody was being quiet and she was read at least 2 stories by Gen or Tai and she got enough snuggles. All her stuffed animals would have to be tucked in too, and her fairy lights on, etc. I can see her wearing pull ups at night too. As long as nobody made a big deal out of it she would be fine. She’d also like having a bottle as she falls asleep.

Jackie would be very particular about her sleeping conditions, kinda like Mari. She’d need her sippy cup and her stuffed animals in hand, her blankets to be “fluffed up” by Shauna, her calico critters all put away, and of course lots of cuddling.

-🐨

Getting Van to bed would definitely be a bit of a chore that Tai's best suited for. If she's not home, bedtime for Van is generally whenever she finally passes out from sheer exhaustion after multiple people have tried getting her down. She just needs something to do that's not just lying there, so having her back rubbed or getting a teether or a soother make perfect sense. Anytime Van does have an accident, she'll be a bit paranoid about having another one for a few days because it really bugs her when it happens. I think she'd actually sleep quite compact as opposed to sprawling out across half the bed. She picked up a habit of curling up on her good side and shielding her face with her arms to get to sleep after the wolf attack and never quite shook it off.

Akilah puts herself to bed half of the time, which sometimes means that she can get overlooked, so Tai really makes an effort to come sit at the edge of her bed and talk softly about the day tomorrow or tell her a story or something. If she can't make it in to say goodnight, whoever's putting Mari down will fill in for her. Akilah doesn't usually ask for someone specific unless she's had a rough day, in which case she'll beg for Tai or sometimes Lottie.

Your thoughts on Mel are great! Not sure I have much to tack on there besides her habit to ask right before bedtime if she can have a sleepover with Van or Shauna or Mari, which the answer to is almost always no. She doesn't usually put up a fuss about it, but sometimes she'll get real upset and has to be gently guided away from the idea of a sleepover.

Loud nights are a nightmare for Mari. If people are going up and down the hall for the restroom or she can hear the television going downstairs, she's simply not sleeping. She has ear defenders but they're kind of bulky to sleep in. It's not uncommon to find a cg dozing in Mari's bed during bedtime because they gave up on trying to talk her into sleeping and decided to just wait it out.

Jackie will sometimes insist on getting up so she can check in on everyone else to see that they're okay. After a couple times of this, they stop trying to talk her out of it and just let her make her rounds because she usually falls asleep way easier after.

Gen's not too fussed about bedtime. She'll pretend to sleep if Mari's really putting up a fight and Tai asks her to just play along, but a lot of the time, she's allowed to read under the covers with her penlight until she gets sleepy. She doesn't get quite so cranky when she's tired as some of the others and her internal clock is strong enough that she usually gets to bed at an alright time.

Laura Lee is an unsung bedtime hero. She's got some kind of magic touch. If someone's struggling badly to get to sleep, Laura Lee gets called in and most of the time, she'll get them on their way to sleep or at least calm enough not to pitch a fit without too much hassle. She's very good at having that extra bit of patience that some of the littles need when they're overtired or fighting sleep and haven't quite worked out why yet.

[goth-mami-writer]

°▪︎_Hellaciously Yours_▪︎° (p.1)

- Dante Sparda × f!Reader fic (Reader is a dominant hybrid demon hunter) (submissive Dante smut incoming..)

- Find the prologue I posted forever ago {Here}

(If this gets good traction, I'll slap it on Ao3! :3 )

《 “He's headstrong. Aren't you tired of that? It's not a unique personality trait these days?” Your armed confidant said to you while your smoke rolled away from the cab, seeping through the crack in the window of the tinted town car.

You watched Dante Sparda make contact with his contracted target from afar, needing to see him fight first hand before you delivered him any more…chores. You'd never met him personally and you didn't wish to…not just yet. The time needed to be right for you to show your face.

Arrogant demon hunters. He was right. It was getting a little too repetitive. But your gut told you something about this one would be different. You extinguished your cigarette into the ashtray and revealed the x-factor in Dante that set him apart from the rest.

“Others say they're good while being no better than dog shit. Dante says he's good…because he is. Have you not made that distinction?”

“I can see what distinction he's gonna make about you, boss. Right off the bat if I'm being honest.”

You covered your bad eye for a moment, running your fingertip down the long scar given to you by the demon that murdered your family before your eyes many years ago. His blood spilled into your wounds when finally you made means to kill him, setting your very life on a different path forever. But leaving you with a new hybrid, half-demon identity.

You didn't know the science behind it- maybe you weren't a hybrid- maybe the word to describe you now was just plain and simple: fucked up but powerful. You arose from your sorrow with new abilities that night- new senses you'd never imagined but new scars as well.

Your “bad eye” was cut open the night you were changed. You thought you'd lose sight in it forever from your cornea basically being butterflied apart in the fight for your life- but that wasn't the case. After coming into contact with that cursed essence, whether it was demon blood or something else- your eye took a demonic appearance with dark, blackened sclera while your iris was a deep burned shade of orange. One that matched the shade of the Hell dweller that took everything from you.

You looked to your gunman again, wanting to change the subject entirely but then heard one stray bullet fire from down below across the knoll of hills intended to hide your car.

He'd done it. Dante killed that lurking fire-blower with one damn shot. You expected maybe a little bit of a struggle. Maybe a hand-to-hand skirmish but there was a beat missed in that quick completion.

“Get down there-” You told your associate, knowing that Dante would make the call to ask for his money since the job was done.

“The cash is in the trunk. Hurry.”

“I think 250 for that little guy is kinda steep if it only took this joker one bullet.” Your partner replied, opening the door to begin gathering the suitcase you'd prepared for Dante's reward.

Your head turned and a smile wavered upon your mouth when you told him why you didn't mind giving high rewards,

“If his ego is as big as we think…it's incentive for them not to fuck up. And..to come back for more.”

~

“That was….way too easy.”

Dante said after putting his sword back to his sheath behind his collar, fully expecting to have to use it but…that one bullet was all it took.

He approached the demon as it lay lifeless and nudged it with his boot, looking for a gargle or maybe a twitch. Damn thing was too ugly to stare at for too long though.

This job was feeling different than the others- some of these pay pigs wanted proof that the target had been found and killed. They'd want a head back, maybe some kind of knickknack the fucker was holding onto- just something. Any kind of proof that he didn't just pop a bullet and turn around with his hand out.

He whipped out his cell, calling the number he was told to call once the demon was dead but he heard tires. He watched a vehicle come to a slow stop on the shoulder of the above highway and his eyes narrowed before the line answered. After Dante said that the job was done- the only instructions he was given was simply,

“Come up the ridge.”

Dante grimaced in confusion when the call ended so abruptly, he couldn't even ask if there was an easier goddamn way to get up there besides scaling up a foresty ditch that looks like a convenient spot to chuck a body- but whatever.

He sighed and began trudging upwards, making his own beaten path where he hiked his leg over the highway's guardrail to plant his feet to the shoulder of the road where the all black, all tinted Cadillac idled about ten yards ahead of him. After taking his first step in the vehicle's direction, he watched as a car door opened.

A tall man that he named, ‘haircut' upon the first glance, stepped away from the passenger seat, holding a briefcase as he strided in heavy steps towards Dante there on the shoulder. But who else was in the car, the man thought. He cocked his head over, trying to make out shadows through the heavy, absolutely illegal, tint.

“Everything's here-” Haircut said, expecting to turn back around but Dante cocked his gun in a flinch so nobody was thinking they'd stiff him short of cash then peel outta here.

He held the barrel to the guy's shoulder, using his knee to balance the case and have a look inside.

Two hundred and fifty fucking g's. It made Dante almost smile but he asked with his gun getting tucked back into his waistband.

“What was the story on that for it to pay so much?” Dante quipped, swinging the case down in his grip as he waited for an answer.

“I can't say.”

“Can't or won't- cause I got all night if it's a long story.” Dante replied, wondering if he'd get a sniff as to why some underground bigwig was passing out cash like some sadistic Mr. Money Bags. There was a beat of silence, almost as if there was a reply being put together carefully by the unknown man who couldn't have been the boss himself. This guy was a puppet being led around.

“They call her The Contractor.”

“Pft- that's a stupid fucking name.” Dante huffed, his lip checking up in a cringe to the sound of it.

Haircut reached in his pocket then after trying not to laugh in agreement, flipping away a card in his fingers to hand across the space between them on the road,

“We'll meet here next time. Just call us before you drop by-”

“-That mean I'm getting rehired?” Dante asked from the sounds of that loaded statement that seemed a little lacking in explanation.

Haircut turned on his heels to return back to the Cadillac that was almost silent with its engine still running. As Dante kept thinking, he remembered something he'd just heard and snapped his eyes up to ask before it was too late.

“Wait- did you say ‘her'?”

The man turned upon hearing the last minute question and hesitated once again to answer.

“Don't-” You said from the backseat, watching as your partner tried to think of a good lie and he gave one last look to Dante before ducking down into the passenger seat.

The cab inside was quiet as the driver shifted the car into gear and you watched Dante keep a stare to try and discern who was sitting in the back seat. He actually looked you straight in the eye as the car aligned with the road again and you knew by one look that there was no other demon hunter even slightly qualified. He was the one to do it- no question.

He was arrogant- but arrogance was what you needed.

“Who's next on the list?” Your partner asked from the passenger seat, turning over his shoulder to wonder about your little kill list that you had already decided had Dante's name written all over it.

“You'll know.” You assured him, not wanting to give too much away at once of your plan to knock down every party involved in the night that changed your life- or more like stole it right out from under you,

“We gotta weed ‘em out one at a time. Patience is a virtue.” 》

[horsefigureoftheday]

There's a ton of attestations, collected throughout the 1800s (published in the 1890s by Evald Tang Kristensen), that if a woman were to creep naked through the amnion of a horse, she could be relieved of birth pain and her births would be as easy as those of a horse - but in return, the devil would turn her firstborn into a werewolf if male or a nightmare if female.

Translation: A 'horseham' is the sac that covers a newborn foal. Across Sjælland there was a belief, and it still exists in some measure, that when a woman in her first pregnancy creeps through such a sac, in the name of the devil, she will avoid birth pain, and it is known for certain that this has been done. If the firstborn was a boy, he would become a werewolf, if it was a girl, she would become a nightmare. By Pedersgård by Kalvehave, on the third morning after the Pentecost, a man was out walking on a bank between the woods and the field, where the cattle grazed. He saw that the farm's servant girls must be out in the field, as the milk buckets stood there, but the girls were nowhere to be seen. The dairy mare had just foaled and was licking her newborn clean. Now the man spotted the girls quite far away from the milking station; they were pure naked and in the process of creeping through the horseham, one by one. He had one thing to do: He cut a long hazel branch, untied another horse, got on top of it and to the girls, and he whipped them in front of him, naked as they were, back to the farm. They were all dismissed and forced to leave. It happened this century.

This is a really common story, across the country. Evald Tang Kristensen collected five individual 1st-hand/2nd-hand accounts of women being seen performing this ritual, and there are dozens of individual accounts describing the ritual.

The nightmare is tied to horses too - she rides sleeping people, night after night, sapping them of energy until they wither away and die. But in lieu of people (or in lieu of entrances, as she enter houses through keyholes, and you can trap her and transform her back into a human and make her your wife by filling those holes, a la stealing a selkie's sealskin), she will ride horses. If you find a horse covered in sweat and with knots in its mane, that's a sure sign that a nightmare has ridden it. The nightmare is usually invisible to people without the Sight, but can take the form of a shaggy black dog, a tiny object, a shadow, or, in very rare cases, a hag. Translations in alt:

(there are also a few accounts of male nightmares, like ETK2F:84 and ETK2F:101, and it's possible that there's one or two accounts of female werewolves, but they are largely gendered creatures)

when things are already pretty horsey but then the situation

[sturniolo04]

YN Sturniolo, a sophomore and younger sister to the well-known Sturniolo triplets, overhears cruel rumors at school but about her relationship with her junior boyfriend, Nathan Doe. and he find her crying and helps her calm down .

A/n:  ofc! I put a little spin on it and made it into a little blurb! I absolutely love these requests I have coming in, you guys are amazing!! I hope you love it! And remember to leave requests in my inbox! If you don’t like the pre added name in my works you can simply put in your own or don’t read it, it up to you :)-Charli

dividers: @issysh3ll

Being the younger sister of the triplets which were your brothers had some major great things that came along. I mean their friends were kind of your friends. So when you and Nate became close and started dating you really didnt think twice about what could go wrong.

You of course didnt factor in the fact that Nate was a year older than you making him a junior in highschool while you were a sophomore. That age difference allowed alot of people to make assumption about the realtionship as a whole.

It was supposed to be a normal friday in school last day of the week before the weekend. You didnt think that you would over hear a bun h girls in you grade calling you 'easy' and a 'slut.'

At first ignoring it seemed to work but as you got closer towards the last couple of passign periods of the day it got worse.

"oh my god there is no way they are actually together he like has to be in it because she puts out"

a random girl in the back of the class whispers a few feet away. The truth was you and Nate have never had sex so there was no way what they were saying was true butyour brain was telling you something completely different.

You scurried off to an empty classroom once the bell rang singalling that school was over, bawling your eyes out. How could they say something like that they didnt even know you or nate and they geuninely believed what they were saying which made it all worse when you thought about how many others might say and believe the same thing.

"hey you ready to head to the house since i know you and sis are wanting to hangout"

matt asks nate as they all met up by his locker for him to grab the jeep keys.

"yeah i just cant find her i saw her at lunch and then walked her to her last class but havent seen her since"

nate states shurgging his shoulders kind of worried.

"thats weird did you check by her locker"

nick asks as Nate simple nods his head 'yes'

"maybe she went to the bathroom then"

chris suggests.

"maybe i will look there and wait for her you guys can go out to the car"

nate states as they all nod and begin to bhead to the parking lot.

Nate walked his way to the bathrooms calling out your name to see if you were even in there but of course you werent.

"where could she be this school isnt that fucking big"

nate mumbles to himself. Nate stops in the middle of the hallway hearing muffled sob from a random class next to the bathrooms. Turning on his heels he follwoed the soun walking into the classroom to find you tucked in the corner by a bookshelf crying.

"baby"

nate quietly coos out making his way over to you sitting in front of you running comforting hands along your legs that were tucked into you chest. You continued to cry not bringing yourself to have response back.

"what happened talk to me"

nate softly asks you as you lfit your head up slowly eyes puffy from how long and hard you had been crying.

"girls are mean nate"

you mumble shakily out.

"what did they say"

nate asks.

"they said you were only with me because im easy"

you trails off.

"they are calling me a slut saying that you also just with me still because they think that i put out good"

you shakily let out.

"baby you know thats not true right"

nate asks you.

"yeah i know"

you huff out

"okay then let them talk you know and i know thats not the case okay"

nate states softly reaching his hand to thread through your hair softly. you leaning into his touch.

"yeah"

you sigh out.

"i got you princess always"

nate replies leaning over to place a sweet kiss to your forehead.

Taglist🗂️

@mintsturniolo @spicymuffins03 @dirtylittleheart333

@stayingstromboli @wh0resstuff @ksturnz @chaoswithus @emely9274 @ivysturnss @sturniolo-szn2 @lezleeferguson-120 @courta13 @chrepsi @lyingonchris

@tezzzzzzzz @babytomatoes21 @sturniolosymphony @zenithsturniolo @bernardsbendystraws @sturnioloslut101

[bewitchedarchive]

a little black cat.

sirius black x animal lover!reader, 736 wc

warnings: none!

a/n: i do think sirius would totally be willing to have a cat, but i thought this was a cute idea. also first time writing for sirius 😬 go easy on me

Sirius had only planned on a little nice quality time with you this evening. He had expected picking up a sweet treat with you from a patisserie around the corner from your flat, maybe fitting a little teasing and mischief in there, and then having a short stroll home. The sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow across your path. A nice way to end his day. Peaceful. And most importantly, unaccompanied by any surprises. But of course, on the aforementioned walk, you had spotted a very small black kitten hidden in the bushes. And, just as expected, you had immediately halted the walk to try to adopt the poor thing.

You were already knelt down on the pavement, loving on it and murmuring compliments while simultaneously attempting to convince Sirius to take it home.

“C’mon, Sirius!” You pleaded with him. “He’s so cute.” You tugged slightly on his sleeve to get him to squat down next to you so he could get closer to the cat. It was a sad, almost pitiful-looking thing with its fur sticking out in wild directions and crumpled whiskers. Its ears and paws were too big for its minuscule body, and it was peering up at him with one of the best woebegone stare he had ever seen, second only to yours. After a few seconds, Sirius observed that it was surprisingly friendly, not really shying away from your light touches. Its tail was curling halfway around your wrist, showing you permission to continue petting.

Sirius let himself be yanked down by you until he was crouching right in front of the kitten. And, he couldn’t deny it was cute. But he couldn’t give in to you so easily. “I don’t know, darling…” He pulled his lips into a hesitant grimace. “Cats are terribly expensive.”

You turned to him with a horrified look on your face, gasping like he had just said the cruelest thing in the world. “But look! Isn’t that face worth it?!” Right on cue, the kitten head butted his knee, as if joining in with your plea. You widened your eyes meaningfully at him, encouraging him to indulge the poor animal. He tentatively lowered a hand to its head and started stroking it.

“Baby…” His tone was unsure.

“Sirius…” You mirrored him, giving him your best puppy- or, in this case, kitten- eyes, “We have to save him! It’s fate. We’ve been chosen,” you stressed the last word before continuing, “as cat parents,” Before he could interject you added, “Imagine having a little cat to take places and to dote on.” You arranged your lips in a pout.

“I dote on you plenty already, dove.” Sirius gently caressed your cheek with his thumb to prove his point. The gesture would’ve worked to melt your resolve in any other situation, he could have sworn, but you stayed resolute.

Though you leaned into the touch, you still rolled your eyes exasperatedly. “You realise you’re still petting him, right? He loves you.” In surprise, Sirius glanced back down the the kitten to find his hand had now begun to scratch its chin. “Plus, a little black cat would definitely go with your…” You opted not to finish your sentence and instead give Sirius a little wave at his all-black ensemble, complete with his ever-present leather jacket. You made a good point, he supposed.

He flicked his eyes back and forth between you and the cat before sighing, “Alright, darling. Let’s bring him home.” He quirked his mouth up, admiring you as you cheered. You immediately went back to cooing at the kitten, content in your success of your mission.

You swept it up in your arms and bundled it in tightly yet gently, making sure not to crush him with the force of your affection. You started excitedly chattering to your boyfriend about the future care of the animal. “We have to name him something really good. And tomorrow we need to get him a bed, and toys, and some cat food…” Sirius focused in on your face as you continued to talk. He studied the way the dappled evening light rested on the apple of your cheek as you smiled; you were glowing with more happiness than usual, giddy with the joy of the tiny creature you held. Yes, you had triumphed in convincing Sirius, but truth be told, he was never going to refuse you anyway.

[aetherflowers]

Ship Sleep Dynamics

Thank you so much for the tag, @p0lkadotdotdot! This is such a cute one.

No pressure tags: @in-the-drowning-deep @redheadsramblings @woundedsoul12 @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @jenn2d2 @davrinsleftpectoral @hedwigoprah and:

You!

Elona & Alistair:

How often do they sleep together?

Not very often at first, what with them being two awkward lil weirdos, but eventually it just makes more sense to only have to put up one tent instead of two. With Elle's insomnia and mandatory watches, they still aren't actually getting much sleep at the same time unless they're somewhere where they have four walls and a bed, and then they might actually manage to sleep the better part of the night. After the Battle of Denerim, it becomes much more frequent.

Where do they sleep?

Almost exclusively bedrolls at first. Luxurious. They have no shame about sharing the royal suite once in Denerim. I like to imagine the servants in the castle find a little relief in seeing their new king happily in love after everything the country just went through, especially once heirs come along.

How do they prepare to sleep?

There's typically little fanfare; on the road they take what they can get. Elle has a habit of reading herself to sleep from her Circle days that she takes back up once settled in Denerim as she's usually the first to retire to their rooms. Once Alistair gets there, he usually unwinds by telling her all the ridiculous things he's dealt with that day. Sometimes that continues into the bath, depending on the day he's had. A hot bath helps them both relax before bed and there's a rule to not take their work with them into the actual bed--the bed is the one place they get to pretend they are just two normal people living a completely normal life.

What do they wear to sleep?

On the road they got used to sleeping partially clothed in case of emergency. Hopefully they get down to linens before they pass out. On good days, smalls. On bad days, they figure out how to make it work in armor. If you're tired enough, you can fall asleep in anything.

In Denerim they have paid their dues. Alistair sleeps in the Thedas equivalent of very fancy sweatpants. Elle has robes and night gowns. There's a 50/50 chance the clothes last or not.

Do they cuddle?

Alistair is a big cuddler. It helps to keep her trapped in bed and combat her insomnia.

What are their preferred sleep positions?

Mostly Elle on her back and Alistair wrapped around her in some fashion. Side sleeping and spooning became more common in Denerim when pregnancy made it more of a necessity. Alistair loves to be the little spoon when he can.

How easy do they fall asleep?

Alistair learned how to fall asleep fast and even after, in Denerim, he's able to push everything aside and pass out. He even doesn't mind if she lights a candle to read. Elle slowly gets better about sleeping but at the beginning she sometimes just dozes.

Do they toss and turn a lot?

Blissfully, neither move a lot (even if Elle can't sleep). But Elle knows Alistair is having a bad night if he does. They happen, thankfully less and less.

Do they snore?

They've been known to sleep so hard they snore, mostly Alistair.

Who hogs the blanket?

They tend to cocoon themselves quite a bit. Elle runs cold, Alistair keeps her warm.

What do they dream about?

On the road, Alistair has the standard Grey Warden nightmares mixed with "everyone I care about dies" nightmares. Those ease post-Denerim, but sometimes he still has nightmares about it all. If asked he'll joke and say it was just another of those "show up on the throne naked" types of nightmares. He usually doesn't remember his dreams but he has fun making up things.

Elle is a vivid dreamer, which led to her insomnia. She dreams mostly of memories - her childhood, the Circle, their time on the road. Particularly vivid dreams involve her time in the Fade. In her nightmares she can't summon her magic or save people. Sometimes she's stuck in the Fade and can't find her way out. Time and stability help to mellow those out.

How easily do they wake up?

They both wake up very easily, at first from being on the road and eventually because they prefer not to be caught unaware by servants.

How awake they are afterwards?

Give them a breath and a few blinks and they're good to go, though they may not always be happy about it.

Yvette & Cullen:

How often do they sleep together?

After Redcliffe they enjoy one night before the mages start to pour in and Eve shares her cabin. But then after Haven, when she almost dies, he's in her tent every night because he needs to see and hear her breathing to even think about relaxing. In Skyhold it takes a couple of weeks to get things fixed up and settled but if they're in the same place they're sleeping together.

Where do they sleep?

Eve's (ridiculously) ginormous bedroom, if they're in Skyhold. I envision there being an old servant's entrance that isn't totally safe but is manageable and they're the only two people who use it. Staff knows that if the sun is down, her room is off limits unless the world is ending.

If they aren't in Skyhold, they will typically default to bedrolls. Less noisy than cots, and more durable.

How do they prepare to sleep?

There's a routine with Cullen's armor to maintain it properly that helps him at least start to wind down. A cup of tea while reading a few more reports. They make a list of things that need to get done the next day to help unburden their minds. If one is particularly busy, work is allowed in bed so the other can go ahead and rest. Neither like to be in bed alone.

What do they wear to sleep?

Typically just smallclothes, if anything.

Do they cuddle?

Cuddling is essential. Even if it's just holding hands across cots, they need the solid presence of the other to feel comfortable.

What are their preferred sleep positions?

Tangled. They don't tend to have a regular sleep position so much as the tendency to end up in a knot. The weight of one another's limbs, the warmth--those are the most essential parts.

How easy do they fall asleep?

It takes them both a bit to fully relax and succumb. Together it's faster but still takes time.

Do they toss and turn a lot?

When not together they're very restless sleepers, but together they settle one another down. There's still a lot of sleep twitching, though. Even together they still have demons to fight in their sleep.

Do they snore?

I don't think either of them ever sleeps deeply enough to snore; they're both light sleepers.

Who hogs the blanket?

They both tend to kick the covers off through the night.

What do they dream about?

What don't they dream about? Cullen's dreams tend toward nightmares--the past, his fears, his endless to-do list. His more pleasant dreams involve his family. The best nights are when he doesn't dream at all, which sometimes is accomplished through magic when his nightmares wake up Eve.

She has a pretty even split of dream and nightmare. Dreams tend to involve whimsy and the future; nightmares the past, particularly the Ostwick rebellion, Envy demon, and future she experienced in Redcliffe. If her nightmares wake him up he has permission to wake her from them.

How easily do they wake up?

So easily; they can wake just from the other muttering in their sleep. For a while their nights mostly consist of waking one another from nightmares. Sometimes they go right back to sleep, others they take advantage of both being awake.

How awake they are afterwards?

They are both immediately ready to go upon waking unless it was a particularly bad nightmare, and then they might need a minute. In a situation they can compartmentalize and jump right into action. Over time it improves marginally.

[ninjakittenarmy]

“Oh I have. Mostly about whether it technically makes them insects.”

The cat-girl cocked her head. “Eh?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. It was an understandable reaction, but the actual subject matter was so dumb that I was dreading explaining it.

“Since insects have six limbs, and so do centaurs, and these people were only ever taught that six legs equals insect, they ask centaurs if they count as insects.”

She was silent for a moment, staring at me in disbelief.

“But that’s so DUMB!”

“I know, right? A buddy of mine I’ve known since high school’s a centaur and he actually gets asked that a lot.”

“They don’t even have exoskeletons!”

“Yeah, and you have to have evolved in the class Insecta. It’s not just looks.”

She sighed. “I thought it was just us but I guess everyone gets dumb questions.”

“Sorry I brought it up” I said. “Didn’t mean to hit a sore spot.”

She shrugged. “It’s not too big a deal, I’m just not sure why so many people fixate on it. It’s really not that strange. The amount of times I’ve been asked why I have four sets of ears instead of big cat ears wrapped around the side of my head is mind boggling.”

I’ll admit I was having a hard time imagining that.

“In any case, the reason we were engineered like that is because cat ears and human ears don’t hear the same auditory spectrum, yeah? I don’t really know the details but the ear shape has a lot to do with it. With eyes, it’s easy, you just add all the color cones from cats and humans. With ears it’s tricky to make one that hears all the sounds cats and humans can pick up.”

“So they just give you a set of each.”

“Exactly!” she said, glad I was getting it so easily.

The waiter briefly interrupted us to bring our sushi platters. Her eyes turned into saucers.

“Oh my God that looks so good!”

“Right? This place has amazing sushi.”

She ate the platter with astonishing speed. She was done before I could even finish half of mine.

“Wow. You must’ve been starving.”

She nodded enthusiastically, then swallowed the last California roll.

“Oh yeah. Haven’t eaten in a few hours at least! We felinids gotta eat lots of meat.”

“For the eyesight, right?”

“Among lots and lots of other stuff yeah but our eyes need a type of protein that you can only get from meat. There’s a lot of stuff we can only get from meat actually. Having to explain that to the vegetarians is NOT fun.”

“Oof” I winced, already being familiar with the sort of vegetarian she was talking about.

“I think most of them get that we can’t eat like them, but some of them are just nuts. Complete zealots. Like, no, Makeighlyn, I can’t just eat soy. I know there’s protein in soy. It’s not the right kind.”

I chuckled at her name suggestion.

“There’s this one vegan lady who’s still mad at me for ah, ‘stealing’ her cat.”

She grinned mischievously.

“Ooh, do tell!”

“Right so I was cat sitting for her and I realized that Mittens wasn’t looking so hot. I couldn’t find any cat food around so I asked if she was out.”

“Oh brother” she said, already seeing where this was going.

“She says that she eats this veggie and tofu purée in the fridge. Now I already knew that this was bad. But I looked at this Tupperware and it was full of just, the foulest slop I have ever seen in my life. Like if you fed this to inmates in Texas, YOU would get the death penalty.”

She snorted, choking on laughter.

“So then you stole the cat?”

“Well here’s the thing, I didn’t steal anything! I called the police to see if the city’s animal cruelty laws covered this and wouldn’t you know it, they did. So we have this whole court battle and she throws a fit right in the courtroom about how the government was only punishing her because they were in the pocket of the meat industry.”

“Oh God.”

I laughed. “Yeah she said some of the wildest conspiracy theory bullshit I ever heard. She thinks that all animals-“ I cut myself off laughing” “That ALL animals naturally only eat plants and that we humans taught carnivores to eat meat.”

“Did ‘em a favor” she said.

I chuckled. “Does time for animal cruelty AND contempt of court. And obviously loses the cat. So I took her in and got her some actual, edible food. Edible for her I mean. Though it’s probably safer for human consumption than whatever that puree was.”

We continued talking for a while about various things. Biology, videogames, the anime that lead to her species’ creation, that sort of thing. A couple hours, a few orders of seafood dishes, and an expensive bill later, and we were ready to go. As we were packing up, she said something that caught me off guard.

“So… if you’re not busy later tonight, could I maybe drop by your place?”

I was taken aback and immediately flustered. I could feel the heat rising on my face.

“O-oh! I uh-I don’t really do that sort of thing” I said. I’m asexual you see.

Her face turned beet red at the implication she apparently just realized. “Oh no, I know! I saw you wearing that pride pin aways back! I ah, don’t really like that stuff either, truth be told.”

“Oh” I said, relieved. “So why ah, why this all of a sudden?”

She smiled bashfully, averting her eyes.

“I was kinda hoping I could… maybe meet your cat? I love cats.”

"Why do people find the 'four ears' thing to be so weird?" The cat-girl flicked her top pair back in annoyance. "Centaurs have six limbs and I've never seen anyone ask one of them about it."

[thegreymarveljedi]

Hi! I am so in love with your story He’ll Be Home Soon 🥹 would you consider writing a part two where the reader is traveling with the bad batch after the war ends and something about how their relationship is then? If not I totally understand and in that case could I request some angst and fluff with wrecker please? Maybe the reader gets hurt or captured then its fluffy at the end? Tysm!! 💗💗💗

Battle Symphony

(Wrecker x Reader)

Of course! I am still mulling over in my head what kind of ideas I want to play around with when it comes to part 2 of He’ll be home soon cause I have another draft that would be suspiciously similar if I went the direction of the reader traveling with the batch but, there will be a part two, rest assured.

WRECKER ANGST AND FLUFF HOWEVER! That’s something I can do for sure.

Warnings: ANGSTTTTTTY, blood/gore, canon typical violence, near death experience, anxiety, medical procedures, sad Wrecker, self doubt, hurt/comfort, pre! Echo Era, fluffy, happy ending.

Words: 4.6k+

The sound of gunfire and explosions jolted (Y/N) out of her dazed stupor, eyes fluttering open to look up at the red and yellow tainted sky. The forests of Dol’har Hyde had been devastated by the battle that raged on, droids tearing through the terrain like it meant nothing. And to them it didn’t mean a thing. That’s why it was so easy for them to rig a trap, have the ground cave in and trap (Y/N) below the destruction.

“Where’s the general?!” A deep, smoky voice called out, the sound muffled and distorted by the ringing in (Y/N)’s ears. She tried to sit up, let them know where she was but every muscle in her body protested, leaving her helpless under the debris.

“I don’t kn- -r! I ha-‘t seen her,” another trooper called out, seemingly out of breath from the battle. (Y/N) couldn’t pin point who spoke or the full nature of his words but it was a regular clone, that much she could tell. Why were the regs… oh, right, they were on a mission assisting the 212th.

“We need- search the -field, find he-!” The first voice said, his tone slightly panicked though she couldn’t fully make out his words, the ringing in (Y/N)’s ears chopping the sentence up. She tried to move again but was stopped by a shooting pain in her thigh, the debris trapping her digging into her skin.

“Yes sir!” The 212th troopers called back, beginning their search around the battlefield. The gunfire had ceased finally, the droid arms decimated and what remained retreating from the front lines. Even with the battle won, there was no time to celebrate just yet.

“Crosshair can you see anything?” This time the voices came from close by, the words no longer as muffled, but clear, as if they were being spoken right into your ear.

“Not from this-“ Crosshair began but was cut off by Wrecker, who was panicking, his head moving frantically across the field trying to locate his- their general.

“(Y/N)!” He called out, his helmet pushed up on his head as he searched. He was so desperate to find her he hadn’t registered his slip up until he heard Hunter hiss over the comms.

“Wrecker, it’s general on the field, we talked about this,” Hunter growled before jogging up to his younger brother with a firm hand placed on his shoulder. He knew how much (Y/N) meant to Wrecker but it was not something he should be advertising openly.

“‘M sorry, just worried is all,” Wrecker said defeatedly, his eyes finding Hunter visors before he pushed his helmet back down, not wanting his older brother to see the tears brimming in his eyes. He knew Hunter would never judge him for showing his emotions, but he didn’t want anyone else to see him like this.

“We all are but getting yourself caught like this will do nothing,” Hunter said more gently this time, looking up at Wrecker. He wanted to do his best to be there for his brother and right now, he could do that by looking for (Y/N).

“Okay sarge, I’ll do-“ Wrecker started but was cut off by one of the regs voices coming over the comms.

“Over here!” One of them call out, Wrecker and Bunter sprinting over to the trooper as others from the 212th joined, trying their best to moved as much foliage and debris out of the way. They removed the top layer with almost no issues but it was further down that was more concerning.

“General!” Hunter called down the sizeable hole that had been made, watching as the slightest twitch of your head indicated that you were indeed alive and that you heard him.

“We need a medic over here!” Another one of the regs called out to Metric, the medic of the 212th. They were in a flurry of movement as other companies of the battalion focused of clean up of the battlefield.

“General Kenobi, we need a med-vac and fast,” Hunter called to Obi-wan over the comm channel, trying his best to find a way down to help you without making the situation worse.

“How bad is it sergeant?” Obi-wan responded, sounding a little more worse for wear but still as brave as a Jedi general.

“It’s not looking good, she trapped under debris,” Hunter replied, moving a little more out of the way so he could give General Kenobi more detail without interfering with the crew trying to moves what they could off of (Y/N).

“We’ll get you out general,” Wrecker said, his voice remaining as stead as it could with his lovers live on the line. He looked to Hunter for help, the sergeant still talking with General Kenobi about getting a med-vac out to their position.

“If you’re going to attempt to move it off of her, be careful, we don’t know what kind of damage it’s done,” Wrecker heard Obi-wan say faintly over the comms, Hunter nodding his head in response before turning back to Wrecker.

“We will try to get the medvac to you as quick as we can. I unfortunately don’t know how long that will take,” Obi-wan said calmly, though a ting of worry found its way into his tone. Hunter could only curse under his breath as he continued to look at Wrecker. He cut the comms with general Kenobi and instead opened a line with Tech before addressing Wrecker.

“Wrecker, get it moved, carefully,” Hunter said, giving the demolitions expert the go ahead to move the remainder of the debris. Wrecker nodded before getting to work on the debris trapping (Y/N) in the caved ground.

“Tech get over here,” Hunter called out into their private comm channel, not confident that the medvac would arrive before they lost their general to her injuries.

“I am on my way,” Tech replied, sounding as if he was already flying in their direction.

“Cross, keep your eyes on the field in case those clankers-“ Hunter started but was cut off by a massive explosion in the distance curtesy of Wrecker. The hulking clone didn’t even have the energy or desire to watch his work, his focus to consume by wanting to free (Y/N) from where she was trapped.

“There’s your answer,” Crosshair said with the hint of a smirk in his.

“Alright then regroup, Tech, bring the Marauder to our position. We need to get the general to the Negotiator and fast,” Hunter said, turning back to help Wrecker move the last of the lose debris that wasn’t directly on top of (Y/N).

“Sir yes sir.” both Tech and Crosshair responded before the com channel went off, both other members of the Bad Batch making their way to Hunter’s position quickly. Hunter quickly slid down into the hole with Wrecker, mindful that it could be unstable for them. He turned to face (Y/N), watching as her expression contorted in pain.

“You’re going to be okay general,” he said quietly, with as much confidence as he could in the moment. His eyes flickered up to Wrecker but all he could read on his brother’s face was distress. Wreckers eyes were focused on the piece of durasteel that remained on top of (Y/N), his eyes analyzing every corner to try and gage of damage.

“Mmm,” (Y/N) mumbled out, her eyes fluttering with the urge to close but knowing she needed to keep them open for as long as she could. But it was hard, so hard. The darkness was calling even as her head tilted in Wrecker’s direction. She wanted nothing more than to comfort her gentle giant but she could hardly keep her eyes open, much less np e her body.

“Take a deep breath for me (Y/- general,” Wrecker said softly, watching his slip up again even when he knew no one would hear it but Hunter. He carefully took hold of the durasteel that rested on (Y/N) body but a brief moment of lucidity made almost made her panic.

“C-can-n’t-t,” she stuttered out, her chest shuttering with every struggled breath she tried to take in. It felt as if she was being crushed on both sides, like she was being squished in a trash compactor with no hope of escaping.

“You’ve gotta try,” Wrecker said brokenly, removing his helmet from his head as he spoke, his usual volume gone as tears gathered in his eyes. (Y/N)’s eyes opened long enough to see the tears in Wrecker’s eyes and the desperate expression he wore. Against her better judgment and the protests of her body, she slowly lifted her hand to Wrecker’s cheek, running her thumb along his scar.

She looked at him with love in her eyes, the pain slowly beginning to fade. Wrecker held her hand as he watched the telltale signs of life slowly beginning to fade. Hunter watch with bated breath as well, but instead of giving up, he powered up his comm and called for Tech.

“Tech we need to get her out now!” He shouted, watching as Wrecker’s shoulders sagged and the hope seemed to drain from (Y/N)’s body. He could hear her heart begin to slowly, her breathing turning more shallow by the minute.

“What are her symptoms?” Tech asked, the sound of the marauders engines in the background doing little to give Hunter hope that Tech would make it in time. He could hear the voices of the regs saying the medvac was a few minutes out but he needed his brother to get here faster.

“Does it matter?! We need to get her out,” Hunter said, though his anger wasn’t meant to be directed at his little brother, it was at the separatists who put them in this position in the first place. He heard Tech grunt in response before he spoke again.

“Wrecker, move the metal carefully, we don’t want to cause more damage to the generals body,” Tech said through the coms. Hunter relaid what Tech had said and watched as Wrecker nodded, letting go of (Y/N)’s hand and donning his helmet once more, trying to find his spirit again.

“I’ll get you out (Y/N). I promise you’ll make it through this,” Wrecker muttered as he took hold of the durasteel that was trapping her once more, hoping that he could convey confidence to her through the visor of his helmet. (Y/N) only managed a small nod, hand fall back to the ground as she waited for them to free her.

“Okay, on three. One, two…three!” Hunter said as he took hold of the other side of the durasteel slate. He and Wrecker worked together to pry it off (Y/N)’s body, moving it off to the side once it was clear.

“AHHH!” (Y/N) screamed as the durasteel was removed from the top of her body, her lungs taking in the air she had been deprived of for what felt like forever, her chest heaving with continuous unsteady breaths.

“You’re okay general, you’ll be okay,” Hunter said as he breathed a sigh of relief, thinking they were out of the woods finally and that they could get their general help. Hunter could also read the relief on Wreckers face that they had been able to free her from the debris though there was something else in his eyes.

“Coming up to your position now,” tech spoke through the comms, the sounds of the Marauder coming closer to the hole where Hunter and Wrecker were with (Y/N) Hunter breathed another sigh of relief before focusing his attention back to (Y/N).

“Okay, I’m gonna pick you up, is there-“ Wrecker started but (Y/N)’s distressed voice cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

“N-no! No, can’t move,” she said painfully, feeling as though her body was in fire even after the debris had been moved. She could feel a pain in her back, a growing unease that seemed to spread heat throughout her body. She could barely lift her arm to grab Wreckers forearm, giving it a weak squeeze while looking at him with terror in her eyes.

“Why not?” Wrecker asked also desperately, placing his other hand over (Y/N)’s that rested on his forearm. Hunter’s eyes went wide as he used the scanner in his helmet to see if there was anything they had missed. And there was.

“Dammit,” Hunter muttered before looking to (Y/N) again, she had a knowing look on her face now but something else told Hunter not to say a word to Wrecker. But he couldn’t not say anything because if they were going to save her he needed Wreckers help.

“Crosshair, take over piloting for Tech. Tech I need you down here now if we’re going to save the General,” Hunter said frantically as Wreckers head perked up.

“Hunter what’s happening?” He asked, his voice cracking slightly as he took in the pained yet accepting expression on (Y/N)’s face. He didn’t want to lose her. He couldn’t lose her. Not now, not ever.

Hunter did say anything to Wrecker as Tech lowered one of the extension cables down the side of the Marauder and slid down, landing next to Hunter. Tech copied Hunter’s movements, using his scanner to scan over (Y/N)’s body to see what the damage was like.

“We are going to have to be careful if we do not wish to harm the general any further,” Tech said calmly and matter of factly. He knew he needed to remain calm especially for Wreckers sake, any hint of panic from him and he was sure the team would know something is very wrong. Wrecker and Hunter both nodded as Tech looked down to (Y/N).

“General, we are going to get you out of this and to the negotiator, you will make it through this,” Tech said, his voice certain. (Y/N) only nodded up at the goggled man, noting how calm he was. That filled her with a little hope because if tech was calm and sure she’d make it, then she could believe it too, even if it was a carefully crafted facade to ease his brother’s mind.

Tech then looked to Wrecker with a very small nod, watching as he placed on arm under (Y/N)’s neck and one under her knees, ready to lift her up on Techs signal. (Y/N) made a slight noice of discomfort only to bee dishes and soothed by Wrecker, his voice soft in her ear.

“I’m going to get you out of here cyar’ika. You’ll be okay.”

On Tech’s count, Wrecker lifted (Y/N) off of the debris that had stabbed her in the back, a painful, gut wrenching scream leaving her lips as whatever was stabbing her was forcibly removed. Tech moved quickly to apply a patch to the wound, Hunter helping him to secure it before the Batch made a beeline for the ascension cables, crosshair retracting them the second he knew everyone was secure.

(Y/N) whined in pain, squirming in Wreckers arms until they were safely on the marauder. Tech directed Wrecker to place (Y/N) down on the crash seats while he too over from Crosshair to get them to the Negotiator. Wrecker knelt down next to (Y/N), taking her hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he discarded his helmet haphazardly.

“We’re going to get you help mesh’la, I promise,” he said quietly, his voice betraying his worry for her condition.

“W-wrecker-“ she tried to speak but her voice was hoarse, mouth and throat dry, blood staining her teeth. Wrecker just shook his head, pulling his canteen from his belt only for (Y/N) to deny the water he offered her.

“Please Cyar’ika, hold on just a little longer,” Wrecker begged, tears in his eyes as he held her hand. (Y/N) just shook her head, trying to give her gentle giant a reassuring smile.

“I-I lo-ve you Wr-Wrecker,” She said quietly, watching as Wrecker closed his eyes and kissed her palm. He didn’t want to accept that she was giving up, that she could leave him in this moment.

“I love you too (Y/N). But you’re going to be okay. We’re going to get you help,” Wrecker said, his voice cracking as he watched her eyes flutter, her breathing shallow and chest rising and falling concerningly slow. She just gave a Wrecker another smile before her eyes became heavy, fluttering continuously as Wrecker called her name. She just needed to stay awake a little longer.

—

Wrecker rushed through the open doors of the medbay, a half conscious (Y/N) in his arms as blood continued to flow, dripping through the temporary bandages that Tech wrapped around her body. Her breathing was shallow and hands limp in her lap as her half lidded, unfocused eyes continued to try and focus on Wrecker. She knew she didn’t have much time left, her body slowly shutting itself down from how much blood she had lost. She had tried to tell him to let her go, that she was okay with becoming one with the force, but Wrecker refused to just let her drift away from him.

“Lay her here,” Metric said as he met Wreckers eyes, his good eye showing his fear for the woman in his arms. Wrecker did as Metirc said and laid (Y/N) down on the medical cot, reluctantly stepping back to let the medics work. Hunter came up behind his brother and pulled him away, giving Metric a nod before they left the medbay to wait outside, being greeted by Tech and Crosshair as they exited.

No one said a word as the Batch waiting outside the doors of the medbay. Hunter only kept a hand on Wreckers shoulder as his younger brother continued to stare at the doors of the medbay. Soon though he shrugged Hunter hand off gentle in favour of keeping himself moving.

Wrecker paced for a few minutes before dropping to the floor and putting his head in his hands, knees pulled up to his chest as he did his best to refrain from sobbing. Hunter watched Wrecker’s distress unfold, trying to think of a way that he could help but Hunter hung his head as he and only he heard the clear sound of a flatline through the durasteel door.

—

It took a few standard hours before Metric came out of the doors of the medbay, gloved hands bloody and face pinched in an uncertain frown. His shoulders were tense, a cloud of tension following him out of the Medbay and toward the batch. They stood from where they had sat down, eager to hear the fate that had befallen their Jedi general.

“Whatever happened out there must’ve been one hell of a battle,” Metric started, not having the energy to try and be humorous.

“How is she?” Hunter asked the question on all their minds, especially Wrecker, the Hulking clone having said nothing. He instead looked defeated, shoulders slumped, eyes red and tear stained. He wanted to have hope that she would be okay, a flicker in his eyes holding that hope.

“She’s in a bacta tank for now,” Metric said, eyes trailing to each member of the Batch, lingering on Wrecker who let out a sigh and slid down the wall he had been previously sitting against. “It took us some time but we managed to stitch her up as best we could,” the medic continued, now speaking to Hunter.

“Is there any way I could have access to her current medical file? With the treatment included?” Tech asked, typing away at his data load while waiting for an answer. Metric just gave Tech a look before sighing.

“You’ll have an update copy sent to you to keep on record,” Metric said, Tech nodding before looking back at Wrecker who’s head was leaned against the wall, elbows rest on his knees and eyes closed. He was trying his best to hold together, knowing that for now (Y/N) was safe and alive.

“Can we see her?” Crosshair asked this time, toothpick between his lips though this was the tenth he had gone through in the few hours they had been waiting.

“Not yet. Not until she’s out of the tank,” Metric said slowly, knowing that this answer might prove problematic for the batch.

“Why not?” Metrics thoughts were right as Hunters tone conveyed his distaste for having to wait to see their general, especially knowing how much this might affect Wrecker. He looked back at his larger brother but he hadn’t moved so much as a finger, eyes still closed.

“On General Kenobi’s orders, her room and bacta tank have been locked to all but himself and medical personnel,” Metric said wincing as he was bombarded with Hunter, Tech and Crosshair all talking at once.

“That is a fair judgment.”

“We should be allowed to see her!”

“He can’t do that.”

They continued to talk over one another with Metric trying to calm them down and assure them that he would keep them updated. All this went on as Wrecker sat against the wall, hands twitching as he listened to the bickering. Eventually it became too much for him, eyes stinging with unshed tears as he abruptly stood up, pushing past his brothers and making his way down the hall.

The bickering of the men ceased as they watched Wrecker walk away. From the medbay, from them, from (Y/N). Their concern for their brother only grew as they watched from a far, Wrecker disappearing down the corridor fore turning down another one.

“Let us know when things improve?” Hunter said and Metric only nodded as the rest of the batch took off after Wrecker. They made it to the end of the corridor where he had turned only to find that he was no where in sight. Hunter sighed and closed his eyes, trying to feel for Wreckers familiar energy through the Venator but came up short.

“Cross, check the training room, maybe he’s gone to punch his anger out on the bags,” Hunter said, receiving a grunt in response before the sniper split off and made his way to the training decks.

“Tech,” Hunter said turning to address the technician with a serious expression, “check the mess hall, see if he went to get some grub,” Hunter said and Tech nodded but stopped Hunter before he could walk away.

“What if he’s not there?”

“We’ll find him. He can’t have gotten too far.”

Hunter took off down the hall towards the hangar, thinking that he might find Wrecker on the Marauder. He hoped to find him and help him through this but he couldn’t know for sure what was going through Wrecker’s head.

—

It was another hour that Hunter finally met back up with Tech and Crosshair, both his brothers shaking their heads. Hunter sighed and smoothed a hand down his face, closing his eyes and wracking his brain for where else their larger brother could be.

“Maybe he does not want to be found,” Tech said, adjusting his goggles on his nose.

“Clearly,” Crosshair said with a roll of his eyes though it earned him a stern look from the sergeant.

“I am merely suggesting that we leave Wrecker to his own devices and comm him when Metric gives us the message that the general has been removed from the bacta tank,” Tech said matter of factly, turning to Hunter. The sergeant sat pensively for a moment before nodding, turning and heading down the hall toward the mess hall with Crosshair and Tech in tow.

Meanwhile, further into the Venator class star destroyer, Wrecker sat on a bed that didn’t belong to him. One that was more comfortable, softer and one that he had spent some time in here and there. He thumbed at bracelet he had pulled from his utility belt, the heavy metal of the beskar feeling like a comfort and a curse in his hand. He had planned to give it to (Y/N) next rotation when the Batch finally had shore leave but now he didn’t know what to do.

Wrecker wasn’t hungry, which was abnormal considering he could eat everything and anything in sight. But his stomach turned at even the thought of food at this moment. He was just waiting for any news now. It seems as if the someone had been reading his thoughts as his comm chimney with a message from Metric.

“She’s out.” Is all it read. Which is all Wrecker needed to stand from the bed, tuck the bracelet back into his belt and take off down the winding halls of the ship. He made it to the medbay in record time, composing himself as best as he could before walking in. The sight that freeted him made his heart sink only slightly but he was at least happy she was out of the tank.

(Y/N) was hooked up all sorts of medical equipment to assist with her recovery, he eyes closed and a breathing mask over her face. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm as Metric and one of the other medics spoke quietly to each other. When Metirc spotted Wrecker, he dismissed the other medic and nodded to Wrecker, silently converting that he would give them some a peace.

Wrecker returned the nod and pulled up a chair next to (Y/N)’s cot, taking her bandaged hand in his and hold it gently. Metric took his leave and made sure to close the curtains to (Y/N) cot, giving her and Wrecker as much privacy as he could. He like a couple of others knew of Wreckers relations and despite how they may view the batch as different, they kept their mouths closed.

“I’m so sorry cyar’ika, for not protecting like I should’ve,” Wrecker started, bringing (Y/N)’s hand to his lips, being mindful of the wires connected to her body. “I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to save you from this,” he continued, feeling tears well in his eyes as he looked at her. Wrecker felt the slightest pressure against his hand and opened his eyes to find (Y/N) looking back at him. He smiled in relief, kissing her hand again as he scooted closer to the bed.

Not your fault honey, (Y/N)’s voice sounded softly in Wrecker’s mind, true conviction in its tone as she tried her best to send reassurance his way. Wreckers shoulders deflated as he held her hand tighter.

“I blame myself though. Those explosions, those droids, I could’ve been more careful,” Wrecker whimper, bowing his head in regret. (Y/N) her head as best she could reaching one of her hand up to her face to carefully pull off the breathing mask on her face. Wrecker moved to help her, being mindful of the other wires and machines around her body. Once the mask had been removed enough for her to speak, (Y/N) spoke softly, her voice hoarse but as gentle as ever.

“I k-knew the ri-sk my lov-ve. It wa-sn’t you, o-okay?” (Y/N) said and as best she could, stuck her pinky out for Wrecker to take in his own. The gentle giant smiled and held her pinky in his own, a swear that he wouldn’t blame himself. It wouldn’t fix how he was feeling about the mission but for now, he found solace in the fact that (Y/N) was alive and breathing.

“I love you (Y/N).”

“I love you too Wrecker. I’ll be okay.”

“Promise,” Wrecker said as he squeezed her pinky in his once more. She let out an airy giggle and squeezed his pinky back, smiling a beautiful smile.

“Promise.”

Let me know what you guys think! If you have any requests send them my way!

Next up will be part 2 of my Echo x Reader story He’ll be Home Soon!

[lesvegas]

Previously Pinned Posts

(note: this post was originally set to private but that made it hard to find especially after i changed urls so im keeping it public but pls do me a favour and dont rb the whole post itself, this is just for my pinned, thank uu) Not pinned as in bios/descriptions, just anything noteworthy enough to have been pinned to the top of my blog before I made the pinned post my bio. Presented in no particular order;

Afab he/him nonbinary lesbian Benny

✨Purity Crusade✨

Benny Witch Project

Cheese Puffs Please Stimboard

Canuck (Derogatory)

lesbian benny

you took over the wrong new vegas

Evacuate the Mojave tiny gif

Evacuate the Mojave goes with Shawty Wanna Fuck

Evacuate the Mojave reposted by a friend back when the youtube video was banned in Canada for some reason

letting go

Courier x Benny AMV (gif)

the worst post ive ever fucking made, genuinely

Edward Sallow, leader of Caesar’s Legion, coming to terms with the inevitability of an artificial intelligence uprising, circa 2281

🦐

Get a load Of this guy

duke art by crossvine

fnv discord call

Posts that weren't pinned before, but that I have been tempted to pin since:

benny dying in a glue trap

vulpes dying in a glue trap

relax guy i like gay men

slutweed

datura-tea mutuals ocs art

the fobos sex ed video

the caesar doesnt know im in a race

dr phil fo1

hycybh

benny n yes man playlists

theres too many bennys

poor little meow meow

catboy benny

my good time boy

attacka

space jam vulpes

sad boy saturday

I can and will add more in the future.

[chimerafeathers]

i really love how intensely Mirabelle reacts to act 5 Siffrin botched friendquest.

Isabeau is mostly operating out of concern and, eventually, hurt. he already knows something’s up before Siffrin gets to him. he knows something truly awful must be wrong for Siffrin to be lashing out like they are, and as soon as he can’t handle the situation anymore, he leaves and asks (with strained cheer) for time apart to cool off.

most of Bonnie’s anger comes from being upset and afraid that Siffrin would willingly put themself in danger for no reason, when that’s exactly why they’ve been so unsettled since the eye incident. they hate that Siffrin values their own life so little, they hate that they’re the cause of any pain or loss for him, and here he is, putting himself in that situation AGAIN. on purpose. it’s loud and explosive, but it’s familiar, too, being “hated” by Bonnie for this reason.

Odile pushes, and keeps pushing, until her concern overwhelms Siffrin and they strike where they know she’s most vulnerable. she gets physical, just for a moment, grabbing his collar before controlling herself and letting go. her fury shuts down into cold detachment, and she walks away.

but Mirabelle—dear, sweet, gentle, loving Mirabelle, “the most wonderful being on earth,” with her secret “ruthless side” that largely involves lightly badmouthing people behind their backs and then apologizing—slaps them. immediately.

and then COMPLETELY RENOUNCES THEIR FRIENDSHIP.

not just “we’re not friends anymore,” but “we were never friends in the first place.”

that’s!!! pretty extreme!!!!

of course, she ALSO starts by asking what’s wrong. something must have happened for him to act like this. but as soon as Siffrin brushes her off, she jumps past that line of questioning and dives headfirst into re-evaluating everything she thought she knew about them as a a person.

if he could say something like that to her and not see anything wrong with it, then she was wrong to treat him as a friend, wrong to read camaraderie into his teasing, wrong to think they must care about them all under their aloof demeanor.

that’s how Mirabelle phrases it—“I was wrong about you”—but i think that there’s a hidden layer of I was right about you, too.

she talks about the way they tease her like she had to convince herself that he was doing it in a friendly way. she says they talk like they “know better than her” like that’s a thought she’s had for a LONG time.

“Always soooo mysterious, Siffrin, always talking as if you're better than me! As if you know me!!! But you don't, Siffrin!!! You're just as lost and useless as I am!!! So stop!!! Talking!!! As if you know me!!!!!!”

none of this comes across as a new, sudden way to view Siffrin for her. it doesn’t shock or confuse her. it makes her angry, defensive, almost like she was waiting for something like this to happen at some point. the feeling of resentment, frustration, jealousy, being patronized and condescended to—this is something she’s been actively pushing down and rejecting this entire time, but they’ve given her ample reason for it all to boil to the surface. violently.

Mirabelle’s kindness is not inherent or easy. it’s a choice she’s making. she treats Siffrin warmly because she gives him the benefit of the doubt—refusing to act based on anxiety-fueled, cynical speculation, and reassuring herself that his actions are driven by care and friendship even if she can’t quite see it.

“I was wrong about you” doesn’t mean she always and without question believed them to be a fundamentally kind, caring person from the beginning—it’s that her first, colder instincts were right, and she was wrong to convince herself otherwise.

never mind that she asked what was wrong at first. she barely gives them time to speak in their own defense, to explain what they really meant by what they said. all of her suppressed doubts and frustrations are getting aired out now, now that all the trust she’d so deliberately placed in him has been betrayed. her pain feels bigger than this singular moment, so when she hurts him back, she makes sure it extends back through the entirety of their relationship for him, too.

“You're awful. You're not my friend, not my ally, not anything. You never were.”

like the others, she goes back to the clocktower and tells Siffrin not to come back until later. but there’s a finality to the way she ends this confrontation that isn’t quite there with the others. Isabeau and Odile reach their breaking point and remove themselves from the situation, asking for space to cool off but still somewhat leaving the door open for Siffrin to tell them what’s really going on at some point. Mirabelle is the only one who tries to fully cut ties—after everything else she says, her “I don’t want to see you until tonight” reads to me somewhat as “I don’t want to see you anymore unless I have to.”

I can’t wait to never see you again.

even back at the clocktower, Mirabelle doesn’t really defend Siffrin’s place in the party when Odile suggests leaving them behind out of concern for their trustworthiness on the most important day of the journey. Isabeau and Bonnie protest out of sentimentality and faith in Siffrin’s abilities and connection to them, and Mirabelle agrees, but…

“I agree, but... B-But would he even agree to come with us, still? Maybe they won't even come back tonight...”

she doesn’t say much outside of that. maybe the stutter and hesitation here are signs of regret about how things happened, but she lacks Isabeau and Bonnie’s confidence that Siffrin even wants to come back to them in the first place. she doesn’t trust that their bond was real anymore. maybe it never was in the first place, or maybe she broke whatever was there herself.

and she’s still mad when they finally catch up to Siffrin at the King! and she makes sure Siffrin knows that—after saving them, assuring him that he no longer needs to fight, that they’re all there for him. she still cares, of course she still cares—she’s still hurt, too, but they can figure that part out once there’s less world-ending stuff going on.

she’s the first to say that they all reserve the right to still be angry at Siffrin later—and that they’ve already forgiven him.

she’s also the first to say we want to stay with you, too. it’s not just you.

she was wrong! she thought they didn’t care but they care so much, it’s overwhelming, it’s world-ending.

i think she’s gonna be wallowing in guilt post-canon the moment she remembers what she said and did TO SIFFRIN and not just what Siffrin said to her. especially now that she knows Siffrin’s exact hangups, and especially especially if she figures out what Siffrin was trying to say.

they put themself through hell out of loneliness and fear that none of the others cared about him the way he cared about them, he was going insane from repetition and exhaustion and hunger and trying to keep them all safe and together, and all they did in the midst of all that was say something kind of mean to her one time (that turned out to not even be MEANT to be mean it was supposed to be HELPFUL they just SAID IT ALL WRONG) and she SLAPPED THEM? and told him that they WEREN’T FRIENDS AT ALL??? how could she!!! she should have known better!! what they said hurt a lot but still!!!

so when they eventually manage to try to talk about it, they end up almost in, like, a guilt competition.

Mirabelle apologizing for how she reacted, that she shouldn’t have yelled or hit him, that she doesn’t want to be the kind of person who acts that way out of anger and she’s sorry that she made Siffrin expect that reaction from her, she should have known better and believed in him more and they only messed up like that because they were losing their mind in a time loop but what’s HER excuse—

and Siffrin going nononono stop I deserved it—(HUH DON’T SAY THAT NO YOU DIDN’T)—and that he should never have said such awful things to her, ever, and she was under so much pressure already with the weight of the country and everyone’s lives and futures and her religion and their whole party counting on her to do this impossible task because she’s the only one who can, all this unbearable expectation and hope crushing her, and they KNEW that but they thought they could skip to the ending as though her feelings didn’t matter at all, like helping her wasn’t as important as saving a little time—

until they’re just. in tears together, apologizing for all the horrible things they did in between complimenting each other’s strength and kindness and resilience and how much they admire each other and saying that no, everything you did was completely understandable, actually, the only one who sucks here is me. which neither of them will accept coming from the other!!

they’re so similar, in ways they couldn’t really understand, before.

warm, affectionate, perfect Mirabelle, the resolute hero, a beacon of compassion and hope for all those around her, who wears her heart on her sleeve, her fear making her courage shine all the brighter—nothing like the insignificant, forgettable Siffrin, too terrified to be known, too fragile to touch, too selfish and disgusting to bear letting go.

cool, mysterious, unflappable Siffrin, the worldly traveler, as charming and silly as they are confident and skilled, who brushed off losing an eye like it was nothing, accepting the risks of this journey with barely more than a shrug—nothing like the anxious, stagnant, undeserving Mirabelle, a fraud and a nobody crumbling under the weight of a mission too important to be entrusted to someone like her, doubting herself, doubting her friends, doubting her mentor, doubting her faith, too weak and brittle to bend and change the way the world needs her to without breaking.

not worth bothering others with their problems. they should be able to handle this alone. stay positive, stay calm. breathe in, and out.

they’ll struggle with it, still—the hiding, the minimizing—but now, they understand each other a little better. they can hold each other accountable for what they leave unsaid.

it’ll get easier, eventually. they have plenty of time.