#and also don't ever feel like you need to be an expert on my characters either!

[stargirlygirl]

me sitting down to read this^

i think you did such a great job here. the grief was done with expert precision. you captured the pervasive yet all-consuming sadness of losing a loved one. and the irony of caleb and reader connecting over this shared loss when reader is the person he lost, was an interesting dynamic.

“We’re reporting for duty Mr. Xia, sir!” you salute, the image of Muffler doing the same in your head enough to make you snort.

building on that, the dynamic between reader and caleb is so fun. here, she's this bubbly, sunshine character, but we come to understand how volatile readers' emotions are. also, when they finish each other's sentences, that was really sweet.

Your back-and-forth external monologue is interrupted by the door opening in front of you and out walks the man who's been running circles in your mind ever since that enigmatic conversation last week.

KNEW he was listening in like... i just knew it and this made me giggle lol

He sees the offense mar your normally enthusiastic visage and quickly activates damage control.

beyond just this line, i think it's interesting (and very caleb-coded) how you've painted this reunion as a sort of psychological mission. i don't want to say caleb is outright manipulative, but there is something to be said about his planning and re-adjusting for the deviations in readers' personality. it genuinely makes a lot of sense given his characterisation and i think it's something you've nailed here.

onto the vampirism aspects, this allusion to war and caleb being used as a means to an end feels very matrix-esque. i think it was a nice touch that gideon was also a vampire. perhaps he fought alongside caleb in the past.

That admiration was buried the same day you were.

caleb being a vampire and reader being human the first time around was also really cool. it adds to the guilt he must feel (which you've detailed) around him being unable to save reader the first time around. thus, he feels this overwhelming need to turn her this time, which he does in a spur-of-the-moment decision. again, very caleb-coded.

"You're not afraid of me. You're afraid that you're not."

also thought this was a great line. just really hit hard given how frightening this situation must have been for reader.

at the end, when he's going to get muffler, my first thought was that that was the last thing i'd do in this situation. all i can think of is readers' sweet little cat (also loved that muffler had his own characterisation) crushed in readers' hands as she drains his blood, unable to stop but crying because of her love and attachment to him.

i thought incorporating zayne into this was such a nice touch! made me giggle and shit. my man, so good to see him at the end there.

overall, i think you did an amazing job. i really enjoyed reading this piece, and i know that you worked really hard on it!

Note: Longest fic I have ever written, my goodness. To my luvly @stargirlygirl who I'm doing this collab with and who has listened to all the ideas I've cooked up and tossed away—I LOVE YOU! Let me let you luvlys jump into this. ✨ Please, if you’d like, —Click Here— for the moodboard!

Warning/Contains: Vampire/Mechanic!Caleb, you’re a reincarnation of his past lover, ANGSTY, you’re grieving the loss of your mother, mentions of lacking the desire to go on without you, you get bitten by him without having a choice (i think that’s it, but if i missed one, please feel free to tell me!)

Word Count: 8.7K

Summary: When Caleb lost you, life held no meaning for him anymore. The only escape he had? He made a business out of it. But is it a trick of the mind when you're presented to him again, alive? The only con? You have no recollection of the history you've shared and now you're here for an interview at his auto shop. He won’t make the same mistake of letting you slip away from him again.

Once Bitten, Twice Repaired

“Hey,” an employee calls as he approaches the working man beneath a ‘95 Chevrolet Camero. “That interview I told you about. She’s here. Waiting out front.”

The intricate undercarriage that's currently in Caleb's face has him focusing with a tunnel vision level of concentration as he takes his time to inspect one more part of the suspension before responding. Only seconds pass until he's whistling with triumph just as he identifies what’s the issue with the dated vehicle.

He rolls out from beneath the automobile with a grin, then pulls himself off the mechanic creeper to stand at his full height.

“She’s eager,” Caleb smirks with a raised brow at the early bird who could potentially be a new employee in the next half hour.

“And excited,” Gideon chuckles. “You want me to bring her to your office or..?”

“Nah, I got it,” he assures, tapping on the trunk as he departs. “But do me a favor and get an order put in for some new shocks and struts for this one right here.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all!”

On a regular day, Caleb had someone else talk with and handle new hires and prospective candidates when the time came. But seeing as the girl that Gideon told to come in had arrived sooner than instructed, he actually wanted to greet the face behind the overachiever himself.

Being the owner of an auto shop, the 6'2 motor enthusiast preferred to be where his interests were. If you asked him, he wasn't too fond of the technicalities, but running his own business made keeping his identity hidden an infinitely easier task.

His love for cars is a bone deep infatuation that's lasted for as long as he can remember—which is funny to think about for someone with a significant number of years on his belt compared to the average life expectancy of anything “normal”.

The double-edged sword of living as long as he has to watch their creation and evolution into the machines they are today, has been a journey that's given him a meek light through the never-ending dark tunnel which harbors a past too painful to reminisce on.

It's exactly why he doesn't. Or at least tries really hard not to, anyways.

Pushing past one of the doors that separates the waiting area from the garage, he nods to the receptionist. As he looks around the room though, there's only one person present and it’s not who he’s looking for.

"Gideon said there’s a woman here for her interview?" he questions the older lady sitting in the office chair.

"Mhm," Gladys nods. "Should still be here since she only stepped outside a minute ago."

Caleb's lips pout in thought with a slight tilt of his head. Stepping into the early rising sun that's fairly tolerable compared to what it can be later on, he stands root in one spot in search of the lingering mortal.

It consumes only milliseconds of his time before he sees who he presumes to be her, sitting on the ground to the left with a baby kitten in her lap.

"Oh, you sweet little thing," you coo. "It's okay, I got ya."

He freezes. There’s no way. Not a chance.

"You're shivering bub, my goodness. I'll talk to boss man and see if I can keep you warm while we chat. It's not unprofessional, right? In fact, I think it's showing how resourceful I can be." Your titter that follows has the vampire beside you tripping the fuck out.

You sound exactly like her. Your laugh is eerily similar. And when you look at him...

"Oh!" you chirp, quickly standing with care to the animal that's as small as your palm when you realize his presence. “Sorry! This little guy was meowing like crazy while I was waiting and I couldn't leave him out here like that."

He can't move. He doesn't want to in fear that if he makes any sudden gesture, you'll fade into thin air like a mirage. That he'll blink and nothing will be there but the memory of the universe once again stabbing him with a knife curated of nothing but sick jokes.

"Um, Sir?" you step closer with worry. "Everything alright?"

The same nose, the same curve of your lips, the same light that twinkles behind your irises—you were a carbon copy of the woman he failed to protect over a century ago and had the unending life he lived to thank for the fact that he couldn't join you.

Vampires are incapable of taking their own lives. Not only a rule that's been set in stone for longer than he's been alive to protect the population of his kind, but the genetic makeup of one wouldn’t easily allow it.

And believe him when he says he’s tried.

No matter what one's mind may want, the vampiric influence held more dominion.

So, when he came home after hunting to see you dead on the kitchen floor of your small cottage years ago from your heart condition claiming you faster than he could comprehend, he was cursed to live on without you what he presumed would be for eternity.

But there must be something that now pities him or finds his everlasting grief comical to put you before him once more.

Bubbly, cheerful, and all the more beautiful. Seeing you again for the first time is enough to make him as sick as his last.

"Should I call someone?" you mumble, walking around him to run inside and ask for some back up for the statue, but a firm hand wrapped around your wrist stops your venture and startles you.

"Tomorrow. C-Can you start tomorrow?" he spoke lowly, his violet eyes unable to look in your direction as they stared at the concrete out of uncertainty of what he'd say or do.

You even felt like her. You are her. And he needed a small amount of separation to correct his behavior before he could determine what it took to keep you. He wouldn't lose you this time.

You gasp. "I got the job?!"

He nods sharply in an attempt to control his instincts. "Seven AM."

Realizing he's still touching your smooth skin, he drops your appendage like it's made of flames.

And when he regains the little sense he has left, Caleb storms back inside without another word and leaves you in the desolate parking lot.

Gladys knew better than to inquire about what happened when he passes her, seeing as she watched enough to create her own assumptions courtesy to the see-through glass door.

Gideon looks back and forth behind his buddy as if you'd be hidden by the brooding male when he steps into the working area.

"You look... I don't even have a word for it. Where is she?"

His thumping steps don't stop on his retreat into his office as he gruffly responds, "She's my responsibility."

Whatever was your side the day you secured the first job you applied for after making your big move, it was an accomplishment well deserved and would be the kind of luck you'd be holding onto going forward in all your endeavors.

Finally, things were looking up after your mother had passed away. It took you some few years to get back into the groove of life, but growth and grieving weren’t linear, and that was okay.

That’s the mentality you’ve been trying to instill to give yourself grace for being so stagnant and admittedly lost for all this time. But where you are now is what matters, not the rock bottom that you grew too comfortable in.

Securing a job that would temporarily keep you sane as you adjusted to your all new everything was important. Not only would your pockets and bank account see profit, but perhaps your heart would benefit all the same and not ache as much being surrounded by the things you and your mom used to spend countless hours gushing about.

Cars were her world and when you were made an addition, naturally the same would apply from being raised solely by the automotive expert. Not only were you thankful for the skills and the memories, but they let you keep a part of her anchored to this world that could never slip away as easily as she had.

Hitting the jackpot and finding a position online for the decently popular location was pretty cool. It was close to your new apartment, the pay was good, and the expectations matched your criteria.

This is what progress looked like.

The smile on your face couldn’t be shaken as you approached the doors that have brought you genuine joy to see for the last two weeks. In fact, this entire building, it's been a consistent reminder of what you were working to achieve in the long run.

Starting up your own establishment in a world of cars is a dream you and your mom were always meant to reach before something took her as if it needed her more than you did. Now that your head was back in the game, that vision would be coming into fruition if it was the last thing you did to honor her.

“Morning, Gladys,” you greeted in passing.

“Mornin’,” she replied as her French tip nails tapped along the keyboard.

With your bag slung over your shoulder, you playfully shove Gideon’s as he fishes for something in his toolbox and he chuckles.

“You better not have that thing in there.”

“That ‘thing’ has a name, jackass!”

You opened and looked into the oversized tote, surging with love because of the gray fluff ball that you’ve been bringing into work with you ever since you found him. Keeping that luck held tight wasn’t an exaggeration and you were convinced this little dude was your charm.

“Isn’t that right, Muffler?” you coo, reaching a finger in to scratch his chin as he meows with what you hope is joy. He’s been as loud as a damaged part no matter what you did, and you wouldn’t change that for the world.

Everyone you pass is greeted with waves and whispered hellos on your way to your “mentor”. He's deep in the engine bay of a pretty metallic army green pickup truck, his back muscles rippling beneath his white tank top as he leans into the complex area.

“We’re reporting for duty Mr. Xia, sir!” you salute, the image of Muffler doing the same in your head enough to make you snort.

After his freezing episode and you came into work the day after, he made it a point to apologize immediately, but didn't attach an explanation behind it.

And you didn’t really need one despite your curiosity.

Being given what you received without hesitation, even though you didn't understand why, was not a victory you'd question.

He's loosened up quite a bit in your brief time here, too; making a few corny jokes that you’d never admit was actually funny, testing your knowledge from time to time like a pop quiz, and sticking by you every step of the way in your adjustment to the new environment.

Though for some reason, he refused to look at you. If he did, it was never for long—almost as if letting the gaze that you couldn't help but be drawn to when you caught it, was forbidden. Too much.

There was something inside of you that wondered if his strange reaction the first time you met had a deeper reason you didn’t understand.

“Lookin’ at this—think you could you tell me what's wrong?"

He doesn't have to look to know you're there. Past all the drilling and heavy machinery, your arrival was made known to him five minutes before you even opened the door.

You believe that ability is a keen talent rather than a natural skill, as you’re unaware of the true nature of the blood drinking mechanic who’s gained such a power through his transformation. It’s why you grin with such impress at his never-faltering accuracy.

"Of course I can."

Caleb tries not to buckle under pressure when your sweet perfume and the intoxicating aroma of the delicacy pumping through your system consumes his heightened senses the moment you lean in close. The urge for his fangs to bare is most difficult to keep at bay when he briefly eyes the vein that trails into your navy blue jumper and past the top of your breasts.

If he could sweat, he’s sure he would’ve made a puddle by now.

Although your scent is nowhere near identical to what it once was, this is the most inebriating it's ever been. With a tensed jaw, he works to keep his control before he makes a mistake that would cost him everything he’s intending to do.

He's been training you since day one—if you wanted to call staring at you while you asked him questions and he'd respond with a head movement a little too late—training.

In truth, your knowledge and expertise impressed the vampire who couldn't understand where you came from, but the fact that you seemed to carry zero memory of him and your past? That perturbed him even more.

You talked with him like this is the first time you and he have ever spoken. Like he didn't know what you felt like from the inside, like he didn't know all your ticks and all your favorites.

But perhaps this was the first time, because not too many of those things seemed to apply anymore to the somebody that he used to know, and he was unsure about how to juggle that fact.

You liked coffee instead of tea, preferred the hot summers over frigid winters, you were boisterous and out there instead of quiet and reserved.

You were different. But was it betraying you to like this you all the same despite the changes?

"There's nothing wrong,” you answer after your once over.

He smirks. "You sure?"

"Positive.” You’re smug as all hell and he likes it.

You pull Muffler out and giggle as he licks his nose from eating the dry food you left in there for him to snack on until you got him settled in Caleb’s office.

"Isn't that right, Muff?"

He looks between you two, silently admiring the position it holds in your hands. After you came in the first time with the noisy feline and begged to be able to bring him in on the daily, he should’ve said no. Anyone else, he would’ve—not a second wasted in his swiftness to decline.

But with you? How could he?

"Yeah?” Caleb folds his arms and leans against the vehicle. “Enlighten me. What makes you say that?”

"Well." Petting Muffler, you continue. "My mom used to always say, 'The difference between a mechanic and an artist is that a mechanic’s work needs to be perfect every single time.'”

"Ayrton Senna," Caleb nods in appreciation for your quick wit quotes.

"Look at youuu. But yes, exactly. And that means we can't afford to make a mistake, not with things as important and as intricate as this. Liquids are full and in their designated compartments, belts and sensors are in tack. No rusting or misplaced parts in sight. Yeah, this is good to go."

The immortal grins cockily. "Interesting. Now,” he gestures to where you presume the keys to be. “turn it on."

Your eyes widen. "Wait! That isn't fair! You didn't say to check it while it's running!"

“A mechanic’s ingenuity comes from their willingness to look beyond the obvious—”

"—for solutions.’ Steve McQueen, yada yada," you groan, tossing your head back in defeat. "I hate when you're right. Mom is rolling in her grave right now."

"She was important to you." Not a question, but an unveiling that similarly hits too close to home.

"My world," you correct with no malice in your tone. "Everything I've been doing since I came here... It's so I can give us what we should've had the time to do."

"I'm listenin’," he nudges your arm after you grow silent, using playfulness to break your walls down so that he can make his way in and determine what he may or may not need to do.

"I shouldn't be trauma dumping on my boss."

He shrugs. "You call it trauma dumping. I call it talking to someone who... understands."

You whip your head in his direction, Muffler purring like a motor on his journey to the land of sleep just as you halt his head rubs.

“You’ve lost someone, too? I mean who hasn’t though, right..?”

“I’ve lost a lot.” He focuses on the dirtied floor while you move beside him to lean like he does.

You frown when you see the clear disturbance in his face. “I’m sorry, Caleb.”

If he had a heart that gave him life, it would’ve been pulled from his chest and put in your hands so you could watch how fast you make it beat.

I’m sorry, Caleb.

To him, you're indirectly and unknowingly apologizing for leaving him when it was never your fault or intention. Hearing that brings him an odd sense of closure. And determination.

Because there’s no need for you to be sorry. You just have to stay this time and he aims to make sure that happens. He won’t allow for the same mistake of letting mortality be your weakness.

“Whoever they were, I’m sure they added so much to your life.”

He chuckles wryly. “You have no idea.”

“Do you miss them?”

“It’s all I do. At least, all I did. Now? I… I think I may have something, someone, so different and new to not replace what I had..”

Carefully you watch his sharp jaw tick, and his thick neck move as he turns to face you, giving you his eyes for longer than the milliseconds you’re used to.

“But to give me the chance to make sure I never lose it again.”

You stare into his orbs with so much familiarity and understanding as if there was a time where they were what you’d called safety. Refuge.

It should freak you out to think like that, but instead, this is the most grounded you’ve felt since Mom. That bizarre reality is what makes you break the connection with fluttering lashes and watery eyes.

“I’m gonna make this right. I promise,” he whispers, and before you can try and decrypt if that was something dedicated to you or a declaration meant for the universe, Gideon calls out from across the garage.

“I’m this close to throwing a wrench and you’re lucky if I miss! Enough slacking!”

Honestly, you don’t know who he’s talking to, but it still applies to you and Caleb, even if he is the boss.

Blushing, your focus is pulled away from the hankering vamp and placed upon your sleeping kitty.

“He’s right… Thanks for the talk. It was…” you shake away the initial words on the tip of your tongue.

It was needed. It made me feel. It’s something I need more of.

“I’ll get to work.”

He watches you briskly walk to his office to get Muffler set up before your shift.

While he doesn’t exactly know what just happened between you two, he’s giving the glory to chance, that the subtle exchange of shared experiences created a resonance that has broken an invisible layer.

What’s certain? He’s taking advantage of it.

“I have no business doing this,” you chastise yourself silently just outside Caleb’s office. “I need to be bringing Muffler home. It’s way past his bedtime. And it's kinda late. But it’s not… like it wouldn’t be weird if I asked, right? It’s a boss-employee thing. Something to—”

Your back-and-forth external monologue is interrupted by the door opening in front of you and out walks the man who's been running circles in your mind ever since that enigmatic conversation last week.

Caleb didn’t miss how you redirected the exchange you were sharing toward him after he asked you about your unspoken plans. Skillfully, you placed the attention onto him so that he'd speak on the things that have brought him his own anguish rather than opening up about yourself.

But little do you know, biding his time and relearning the woman you are now, has been a monumental asset that's gotten him further than he could've imagined.

It's how he's already earned your trust in the month of you being here and why he's gained a definitive understanding of how to dismantle those barriers so that he could be the one to replace them and protect you instead.

The more he became familiar, the more prevalent your need to have a sense of control over the arbitrary system of life, became. You needed to be the one to open up on your own time, not when it was asked of you.

Cut to you talking yourself up into inviting him over for dinner for the last fifteen minutes to prove that accurate assessment true.

Of course, you wouldn't know that he has been listening to every single word of your contemplative banter or that he was internally begging for you to not withhold the request he knew you were hesitating to ask.

Who you are made sense for someone who lost the only person who gave them love, stability, and comfort in this lifetime (so far). You were like an open book already. But for Caleb, being the ever-greedy man he has always been, he wanted access to your glossary, cliff notes, and all the things in between.

Whatever higher power above has returned you to him, he would make them proud and be the one to refurbish you from all you’ve lost.

So please, please ask him so he can tell you yes!

While he harbors all the information and memories that you don’t and was certain about your universally aligned connection, you on the other hand, were mystified.

Besides the fact that you had what could be labeled as a very unprofessional attraction to your boss, it wasn't just a physical thing. Oddly, he brought you a semblance of normality that stumped you no matter how you tried to come up with a logical explanation.

There was none. Not that you could think of in your hours of trying.

You couldn't understand why you seemed to be so tethered and drawn to him, but the reincarnation of your soul? That did.

You found yourself wanting him near, craving his opinion and the sound of his voice, even wanting to hear him ramble for hours about all the same automotive knowledge you already knew.

"You alright, pips?" he smiled.

Get your head in the game.

"You're really sticking with that nickname, aren't you?"

"What? You don't like it?"

"It feels like an insult."

"I'd never insult you."

"You insult Gideon all the time."

"You're not Gideon though, are you? Besides, he deserves it."

Their aggressive but humorous jesting throughout the day never failed to make you and everyone else hysterical. You always wondered how Gideon got away with talking to his employer the way he did, but the clear bond between them was more than enough of an answer.

"Sometimes," you agree.

"You've got somethin' on your mind." He shuts the door and locks it. "Care to share?"

"How do you do that?" You follow him around as he checks on everything once more.

"Do what?"

"Always know what's up with me. It's so trippy."

"I've had a... good amount of time, I guess." (Just a few years of being your other half as experience, no big deal.)

"I guess," you parrot, smiling like a doofus when he winks at the noticeable heated rush of pink to your cheeks.

Shaking off the reluctance, you blurt out what you wanted to propose before you can further convince yourself that you were a fool for even thinking about it.

"Do you—Would you want to come by my place… for dinner?"

Caleb stops where he is, and you regret it instantaneously.

"Shit. Okay, hold on, please don't fire me. I only wanted to thank you for making my time here so gratifying and—Alright, maybe I should've invited you to a restaurant or something so it's more appropriate and palatable, but we always get off late, Muffler needs to be brought home, and I didn't—"

"Pipsqueak," he interrupts your tangent. If only you knew he was all in the second you made it a consideration. "I'd love to."

"Come on in," you gesture, and the contement that washes over the man who already knows your layout, is otherworldly.

Being able to walk freely in your space without sneaking and keeping silent is way easier than waiting until you were showering or sleeping to climb in through a window to snoop around.

Yes, he has followed you home and invaded your privacy, as well as rummaged through your things without your permission.

And yes, he took one of your shirts and a pair of (dirty) panties with him for safe keeping to... hold, on the nights he missed you more than he could reason with.

It was fine, though. Look at how close you were! Already inviting him in with no qualms about it.

Muffler was the worst guard cat he's ever seen, though. He’d meow cheerfully at his feet in each room he followed the invasive man into on the nights of his trespassing, but Caleb chalked it up to still being so young and familiar with him from all the hours inadvertently spent together.

He had your kind heart to thank for such a companionship that works in his favor.

"I know you said you weren't hungry, but I'm still glad you came by. TMI, but I'm pretty much alone now and it's been difficult making friends since, well, you know. I’m really thankful, is what I’m trying to say.”

Obviously, he couldn't eat what you were going to prepare and worried telling you was going to make you change your mind. But that didn't deter you at all after he promised that he had a hearty lunch and didn’t mind stopping by if you were still open to it.

You were shocked because you swear you've never seen him or Gideon for that matter, eat anything. Come to think of it, you’ve never seen a lick of sweat fall from the two consistent hard workers, either.

Diet plans? Botox? You didn’t judge. Maybe you could ask about that another time.

Caleb made sure to drink some blood bags five because look at the size of him that he gets from his close friend Zayne who walks the same vampirism “lifestyle”. The preventive measures would guarantee that he wouldn't be ravenous and endanger you from being possessed by an insatiable hunger he couldn't trust himself to control around something so incredibly enticing.

"If there's no one else you think you can turn to, I'm always going to be there, you know?" he added.

You don't have anything proper to say to that, so you simply tip up the corner of your mouth in response and get Muffler settled before cooking yourself dinner.

Caleb sits at your cute kitchen island and has small conversation with you as you busily move around while simultaneously analyzing all the things he's already memorized about your home-in-progress.

All the while, your mind is flooded with the notion that this feels so… right? That you wouldn’t necessarily mind more nights like this.

Nip it in the bud, sista. This is your boss.

Once you're finished and have a simple plate of chicken breast with the starch and vegetable of your choosing, Caleb sits at the small table across from you.

"Good?"

"Mhmm," you nod and cover your mouth as you chew the piece you consumed. "It may look simple, but this was one of Mom's favorites. Chicken breast is so versatile, you know? And we'd always eat late after working on whatever project we were obsessed with at the time. Chicken tacos, quesadillas, or a salad—it was always so different even if it was the same cut of meat or meal."

"Mm..” he hums. “Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but your mother sounds like your sole drive for everything you do." He rests his chin in his palm, watching you eat and waiting for you to give him what he's looking to get answers to.

"She is. I mean, I'm working this hard and doing it all on my own to get the garage that's been on our radar since I was like five. I owe that to her.”

Bingo.

"You wanna go into business for yourself?"

"Our plan was to move up here together and buy the property she had her eye on for all these years... but the cancer had other plans."

His eyes narrow in thought. "And if that doesn't work?"

You stop mid chew, looking at him with a newfound carefulness.

"Why would you say that?"

He sees the offense mar your normally enthusiastic visage and quickly activates damage control.

"I don't mean it offensively, pips. Just a question I'm asking as someone who knows the difficulties that come from starting his own from the ground up."

"All I've done is have anxiety about the what ifs and the potential losses. I don't want to be controlled by that anymore. I can do this."

The memory of what your life together once was, the times in which you'd say something almost identical, rings in his mind like a raging alarm.

Through all his concerns that pertained to the fragile state of your heart before it showed you how necessary it was for you to worry; you always brushed him off. Always tried to act like you were stronger than something you would never have control over in a world of underdeveloped medicine and healthcare.

He'll never forget how you consistently rejected his urgent propositions to turn you, to make you like him and rid you of your condition to live with him pain and worry free for eternity.

But you refused to take what you deemed "the easy way out".

Your determination to conquer it on your own like your father had been doing at the time, made him admire you and your resilience.

That admiration was buried the same day you were.

He willingly let that be your demise when he should’ve taken matters into his own hands regardless of how many instances you assured him that you were doing everything right to give yourself the best chance.

Look where that decision left him. If one could have a play by play of the timeline of his pain and despair, you would've seen what it did.

What's to say this same negligence being shown towards your aspirations wouldn't do the same now?

The thought of you trying to leave because something didn't pan out how you anticipated. Or of you letting your pride be your downfall with the potential of being so overcome by another monumental loss directly connected to your last to the point that you try to leave him entirely—again...

No. He wasn't enabling another repeat of anything remotely similar.

"There’s no shame in asking for help, pipsqueak. I can be that for you. Why don't you let me—"

"I don't need your help, or your pity!" you cut off defensively.

I don't need your help. I don't need you.

I don't want you, Caleb.

He's blinded by irrationality. You do need him. You always have. You always would.

"If you don't, then who else but me do you think will be there? You said it yourself; I make things easier for you, don't I?"

Quickly you've completely lost your appetite and what was once a good idea has surprisingly turned sour.

"Me," you emphasize, index finger pointed to your chest. "I've always had my own back through all this. I did it on my own! Who do you think you are, Caleb?"

He wants to tell you. So badly has he thought about it putting it all on the table.

I'm the man whose soul you governed. I'm the vampire whose existence you welcomed and accepted. I'm the immortal who barely recognizes who you are now, but I don't want the old version—I want the one I've been regifted to love me just as you once did.

I’m the only person in the entire world that you once depended on for everything and I couldn’t even do that right.

Besides the likelihood of you believing him being lower than hell, comparing you to what only he recalls is a mistake he can't afford to continue making. Not when it begins to impact the building relationship he was fortunate to have now.

"I'm sorry—"

"You should be," you scoff. "Do you know how many times I’ve been “warned”, told about the negatives? The likely failures? Why can’t anyone be happy for me? Why can’t anyone just… celebrate or congratulate, or-or just encourage, without trying to make me feel like I’m inherently doomed!? I’m not some ticking time bomb of disaster!”

He doesn’t have anything to say, but his silence speaks volumes.

“And you know what? I-I think… I need you to leave. Before I say something I'll regret."

Listening to you now is the last thing he wants to do, but it's what he has to if he wishes to not further ruin what he's doing a damn good job of doing already.

With a heavy mind and an ache inducing blunder, his night with you steered in the complete opposite direction than he expected and is concluded by the loudest farewell of a slamming door to his back.

He already made you a promise and though you’re oblivious to the fact, your fate with him has long been sealed.

"Like I just got this car from my father a couple months ago for my birthday right, but my grandad has been freaking me out about some transmission thing! So, I'm worrying and thinking 'Maybe I do need to get this looked at, just in case' and that's when I looked up some good mechanics nearby and you guys popped up, your reviews were pretty fire, so I figured maybe—"

The frantic fast-talking customer abruptly stops her tumultuous rambling to catch her breath, grumbling to herself about how she needs to remember her breathing exercises with a woosah and a countdown from ten.

"I'm just really hoping you can help me understand what I need to be panicking for," she finishes, her cheeks patchy with red from the mix of the warmer temperature and hysteria.

You smile understandingly at the young teenager who's brought in her 2017 Volkswagen Jetta in a frenzy just as the shop was closing up for the day.

It's always nice to see people seek out knowledge about the things you're passionate about because you get to unleash that inner nerd, but not when it has them is such disarray.

"You have nothing to be panicking for," you assure with a hand to her arm in solace. "I'm almost certain that your grandad is concerned about manual transmission. See, Volkswagens are equipped with something called Tiptronic transmission and what that does is replace the manual one. Back then, if you shifted your gears incorrectly, your vehicle could suffer from that mistake and maybe even your pockets if the damage was bad enough. Now? Tiptronic is sort of fused with automatic, so in the event that you make such a mistake, your car will recognize and correct it for you to prevent any damage to the transmission."

The redhead nods in understanding and huffs out a breath of relief. "So I'm like, not going to screw it up right? I'm not driving in some death trap?"

"Not at all," you chuckle. "It's a hybrid system. What it does is offer you convenience, so you won't even notice. But it's still wise to learn and understand your gears by heart and the overall functionality of your car. Even if something may not be utilized, a good and conscious driver knows how to operate all of it effectively."

She closes her eyes like she's just found peace. "You actually just prevented an impending spiral, oh my gosh you don't even know. I thought I was going to have to miss out on my trip this weakened because my dad screwed up!"

"Next time, just give us a call about any questions that we may be able to answer over the phone so you can save yourself the trip! But yeah, we ran you a diagnostic for your peace of mind and everything is up to date and in the right order, so you're good to go."

The now tranquil teen offers you several thank yous before gleefully getting into her driver's seat and carefully peels out of the parking lot.

With another busy day coming to a resolute close, you look around the mostly empty garage besides a Gideon who throws you a thumbs up for your explanation as he gets ready for closing after the hustle and bustle, and an attentive Caleb wrapping up an oil change.

It's been four whole days since your bout that ended up with you kicking him out. And you were wrong about what you did and the things you said.

Dead wrong.

But you were positively livid to hear another voice questioning you like you weren't capable. Admittedly, that's where you made your first mistake.

Caleb wasn't just another voice, and he wasn't knocking your capability to achieve. He cared, and instead of letting him do that and listening to his logical concerns, you surrounded yourself with titanium and pushed him away because of your egotistical stance of self-sufficiency.

It wasn't your wish to sound so bitter and guarded. It was a defense mechanism from all the discouragement rained down upon you no matter who you once trusted to share your dreams with.

"You're already moving across the country. I know the house didn't sell for that much to afford living expenses and a business."

"Something like that is usually passed down from generations in terms of seeing substantial profit... You sure?"

"You're still grieving, friend. I think you're rushing this."

"If your mom hadn't been able to do it, what makes you think you're going to do different?"

Rather than checking all the naysayers, you'd freeze and feel your nose burn with sorrow.

All the anger and frustration that's been pent up was given to him instead of being properly dished out to the ones who really deserved it, and you were riddled with guilt because of that.

He's shown you kindness, given you care and liberties to do things no one else would. He made you feel like you again, yet you liquidated a moment you could've taken to experience sincere congeniality because of your unresolved issues.

The shame kept you out of work the day after, the matter only worsening as you ignored and steered clear of him for the last three including today. You've been so avoidant that you haven't even been bringing Muffler in, and that's what solidified your position with the troubled vampire.

It's a revelation you weren't too sure how to cope with, but you missed him.

You missed him so much that when you didn't get your good mornings and stupid pop-up questions, all you wanted to do was go home and wallow in your stupidity and useless pride.

But it's high time for you to swallow it and take charge like the adult you were.

You walk over to him with a twisted face full of irresolution. There was no script written out in your mind about what you'd say or how you were going to make amends, but you were hopeful that he'd understand in your attempt.

"Hey," you whisper, twiddling your fingers to keep yourself busy until he responded as you stood beside him.

"Pips... hey" Caleb answers, not taken aback at all by your sudden appearance. Identifying you without fail is a favorable advantage when he can't hear you mutter about all the things being pondered in that turning cogwheel of a brain.

He was unable to hear you make the eventual decision to speak with him because for the first time since you've met—even when you were alone in your home—you were hauntingly silent, keeping all your thoughts in the safe space behind your skull.

To say that he yearned for you was an understatement.

Your smile, your stories, your voice—they were irreplaceable just as much as they were unobtainable. And sitting on the floor of your bedroom at night while you slept as Muffler purred himself to sleep in his lap wasn't cutting it anymore.

"If you had the time, I was wondering if... if we could talk—"

"Yes," he cuts you off unintentionally. "Sorry... Yeah, I'd like that. Please."

Nodding at his eagerness that you struggle to refrain from giving a reaction to, you eye his sexy hands that he cleans with a nearby rag before calling out to Gideon to keep an eye on everything until he returns.

Crossing the threshold into his office, you roll up the sleeves of your flannel and try calming your jittery hands that don't have a clue what to do with themselves.

Once you turn to face him, he can't explain why he anticipated for you to be calm and orderly, but instead, you begin to spill your guts like there's a time limit that will come with consequence if you're not finished in time.

"First of all, I'm sorry. So sorry. My anger was misdirected, and you didn't do anything wrong. Instead of taking your advice with discernment, instead of understanding where you were coming from, I boxed you in with all the other people who never cared about me. A-And I don't know if I've ruined the dynamic we have outside of what we are as two people who work together, but I want to fix it if I have."

Your breath shudders as you prepare to reveal what you've been feeling but were too scared to say out loud because of the ramifications that may tag along.

"Caleb, I know you might think I'm crazy or some mourning mess with attachment issues when I say this, and maybe I am. I just... I don't have anyone else, a-and I can't do everything on my own like I thought. I feel like I need you... but I'm not your responsibility and neither is my trauma, but I can't..."

Your words begin to drone out and it's not because he wishes to disregard what you're laying out for him.

It humors him... because he knows all of this already.

I feel like I need you.

Once again has he become an extension of you, this time so much so that he can feel the restraint he's been wrapping himself up in, release him with every word you articulate.

Caleb is drawn to you like the stars that stick to the sky, done with the waiting and the cautiousness, and slams his lips onto yours as he cups your jaw hungrily in his hands. You're nearly knocked to the floor by the sheer force, but the desk you clatter against braces the fall.

His lips slowly massage yours like a starved man being free from the shackles of famine, a primal satisfaction taking hold of him when your hands slowly find purchase in his locks and you moan into his mouth.

You wanted him? He was already yours.

The smell of all the blood fueling your healthy palpitating heart makes him feel like he's growing dizzy and the headiness of the arousal that he senses gathering in your shorts begins to...

Hold it. Hold it!

But the vampiric dominance conquers his long forgotten humanoid instincts, overriding his attempt to repress his true identity.

This was happening now, then. There was no need to hold off anymore. He had all he needed with the perfect opportunity to take it.

Patience didn't exist anymore. You would have dozens of lifetimes in unity for that.

From the beginning, getting you in a position like this was the final play before he gave you an irreversible hardship that he would pledge an undying oath to guide you through.

Caleb vowed to stop you from abandoning him again and the desire to fulfill that is what draws his fangs out.

For the first time in a long one, all the control he had once mastered after decades of being a creature in hiding, is being revealed before you can realize.

The fact that you're pressed to him in a closed room like an unwary sheep left to the slaughter, precedes you as you lose yourself in the slip of his tongue past your puffy lips and the feel of his strong hands imprinting on your waist.

But don't mistake his devotion to you, what he's about to do, as punishment.

He'll teach you everything. He swears it, cross his useless heart and hope to die.

He'll kill for you when you're scared to do it, please you when you need him to. He'd go hungry if it meant making sure all your newfound needs were satisfied.

It's the least he could do for the only man who'll ever be allowed to love you and is about to strip you of all you've ever known to give you something that you will make better together.

Taking care of his eternal beloved was always his purpose. You came back to him for a reason.

And what an unknowing angel you were to give him the opportunity to succeed this time.

His kisses trail down your neck and a nip to your flesh offers an unusual blend of pleasure and a pain you can't quite say mixes, but overrides.

"I've waited for you for so long..." he whispers, licking up the length of your neck and grunting when you whine and press your breasts to his hard chest.

"You're so dramatic," you grin foolishly as you pull back. "It's only been like four days—"

Your eyes widen and your already elevated heart rate steadily reaches heights that only makes his thirst for you edacious.

"Caleb...?" Your tone pitches with concern and perplexity. "What—"

"I remember when you used to be mesmerized by me." He angles his head, observing you and the way your throat works to swallow your timidity. "Do I scare you now?

The sight of his pointy and sharp elongated canines makes you incapable of responding. You have to be dreaming. That's the only way for what you're witnessing to make any sense.

"How did you—I don't understand..."

"You will, pips. I promise you will. I won't make it hurt as much as it hurt me. I always protect you, you know that."

"Hurt?! This is not... What the fuck are you talking about?! I don't know...w-what is wrong... with you?"

"...If I told you that I've always been this way? The times you trusted me with our Muffler, the lunches you'd eat in here because I eased your rampant mind, every instance you laughed your pretty little head off because of the things I've said. Oh, honey... I was this, hiding—waiting."

His hand trails up to grasp your throat with zero pressure applied, taking a moment to inhale you deeply.

"Before you, before the materials that keep this building together, I have walked this Earth for a long, long time. But I haven't been able to live without you."

A devoted kiss to your jaw. "You remember... I've told you that I know what it means to lose."

Another. "I watched my biological family be murdered by the same beings that turned me into what they are. They used me, materialized me in their war against the humans. I was a killer, unstoppable. But when I had a deliverance, a liberation, come into my life to show me how much control I had over my own fortune with the power I possessed... I was accepted without an ulterior motive—loved. I was in love. Pips, I held onto that with both hands. Until I was stupid enough to let it slip."

Warm tears pour over your waterline and down your cheeks as he shushes you sweetly to calm your worries. "You're not afraid of me. You're afraid that you're not."

His mouth falls to the crook of your neck. "I don't want you to fear us. I just want you home."

A sharp and painful stab is impaled into the side of your neck as a forceful pressure is pushed deep the more your blood is being extracted from every vein and artery that will no longer need the crimson to function.

You cry out clamorously from the burning ache taking over your body and muscles when you cling to his biceps.

Were you pulling away or succumbing to this? You couldn't comprehend.

No sobs can escape the more the decadent fluid spills into his mouth and makes a mess down his chin while it stains his top that was once only dirtied by grease.

His venom rewires your system to welcome the change, to embrace who you will become as you fall slack. He continues to consume even when your brightened skin grows pale the longer you're drained until you're completely immobile and unconscious.

Caleb holds you up by the back of your head to savor every drop, growling with delight just as he finishes. With inhumane speed, Gideon shoots into the room, his fangs presented and posture ready for a fight.

He drops his guard as he watches his comrade from all these decades, claim you until you have nothing more to give him.

Pulling back, Caleb licks away the trickle trying to escape and kisses your forehead as if seeing you like this pains him.

"You'll forgive me when you wake up, pipsqueak."

He keeps his eyes trained on you at the same time he commands his addled friend, "Bring the car around back."

Gideon looks at your comatose form then does as he was asked with harboring questions to be asked later.

Careful of your fragile state, Caleb effortlessly carries and places you atop the plush armchair you liked to sit and eat your sandwiches on.

He's done exactly what he wanted to. You are where he has always envisioned. But when you wake up, is he prepared for what you may say or do?

Your maker will want you to know that you're not isolated, that everything isn't over.

You will get your mother's garage, you will cement her legacy into this planet, and you will do it with him. But he wasn't too certain that he'd be the proper voice of reason or the one you’d initially want to hear.

So, he decides on the best alternative solution.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket and with eyes flipping between you and his screen, it takes him two scrolls before he presses the contact and call button of the person he needs to reach.

One ring. Two. Three. Four… Damn.

"Yes?" the voice answers impassively, thankfully before he was forced to try again until he got a response.

"Zayne," Caleb starts, wiping his mouth from the messy consumption. "You got time to offer some friendly advice?”

“I have two minutes.”

Caleb offers a dry chuckle. “Tell me, what was the first thing you did after you... turned your wife?"

Silence. An uncomfortable one. Lengthy.

"What have you done?"

"Something I was supposed to do."

"If you've made an intentional decision that you're confident about, why do you call me with vexatious riddles? Whatever it is, is it not what you wanted?"

Pressing his lips together, he leans down to brush your untidy hair away to see you without any obstruction blocking a view so captivating.

"It is. But I'm not entirely sure if I can say the same for her. Not yet."

"Her?" Zayne questions in slight alarm. Caleb feels like he can already hear the thousands of questions he wants to ask and points he's dying to make all professional like.

He's thankful that he keeps it short.

"Bring her over before she wakes and does something mindless without properly understanding what she is."

"Done. Will your wife be there?"

"And that matters why?" But Zayne doesn't even give a moment long enough to answer.

"Do as I've instructed you and we will go from there. Do not waste any more time. She needs to be controlled and monitored for her first feed."

Hanging up, your soulmate hurries to sweep you into his arms and fixates on your lifeless face in silence on his way outside. Caleb haphazardly explains to Gideon that he needs to hold down the fort for some time before either of you return and while he wants to inquire more, he knows that now is not the time.

You're placed in the backseat as he maneuvers you until you seem comfortable enough for the long ride and throws one of his sweaters over your body out of habit from all the nights he would do the same in your bedroom with your blankets.

He kisses your chilling lips when he's done and grins faintly.

"I'm gonna get Muffler for you. Our family sticks together. Always.”

Climbing over you, he presses your foreheads together before he gets ready to get behind the wheel to make the way toward your new future.

"I told you, pips. I promised I would make it right."

A/N: I’m nervous as all hell to see what anyone is going to say LOLLLL!!! Writing this was admittedly a challenge. It forced me to really lock in over the last week and I think I really needed that in an effort to improve my writing. Hours upon hoursssss I spent, so I can only hope with fingers crossed🤞🏽. I luv you. MWAH!

🍎 Tags: @xiaprint @mcdepressed290 @calebapplepie @xcelfer @honeymoonfleur @obeythebutler @ajyoursgirl @notsurewhattocallthisblog8888 @honeycrispangels @dummiebunny @sucre-princesse @brailsthesmolgurl @klossnite @grlyeetswrld @beesin03 @dramaticalsachan @moonchildjae00 @multisstuff @littledarlingsthings @purpleamethyst25 @meadowinthesky @grackerzzz @nod4mnm3rcyy @loveinorion @ur-l0cal-crypt1d @cowaungabungabby @gravity-pilot @nyanahogini @rosiesluv @goochfiddler99 @torturedbabyapple @kiyadeleine @carcelswaifu @blushofeve @whattnanii @ashirelle @sylvieisoffline @saturnquartz @dewmarionette @horanghaeegr @iconoclastoc @hilliserose @alyakhq @rina-lidou @celestialhoneycaleb

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+ @nikirangs, @deathrye

*Photos do not belong to me!

[uvher]

// the tricky thing about oc's is that i can read all the things someone's put in the character's bio and all their meta/about posts and i still wouldn't feel like i Know them until and unless i actually have a thread with that character. otherwise, it's like hearing about your friend's s/o that you've only ever heard them gush about but have never met in person.

[dinogoofymutated]

First born Headcannons! Multi/Fem!Afab! Reader - Angel, Colossus, Nightcrawler, Gambit OKAY FUCK I don't know what came over me it just happened okay??? This whole thing started thinkin about colossus and a lil baby and then I was thinking about Warren taking the nightshift with his own baby and I spiraled from there. Warren's is like twice as long as everyone elses my bad yall. If there are any typos don't make fun of me ill fix them tomorrow I'm so tired lol TWs: Childbirth mentioned (Not described tho), Babies, wholesome shit. I know that some of these characters have had kids in the comics and that these hcs may be ooc, but I do not care lol. Little bit of anxiety and panic, but everything is okay.

Warren Worthington

Warren is such a dad. I don't even know how to describe it. Like, he's not as effortlessly fatherly like Piotr is, but once he has a kid he's devoted to making sure this kid gets all the emotional, physical, and financial support they would ever need.

He had such a rocky childhood with his own dad, so he hates the idea of his child ever going through the same sort of thing.

He might be a little clueless with the actual baby things, like when to feed, how to dress, and what to feed his little one, but he does take diaper duty as his sole purpose in life. He does adjust for the things he lacks though, and gradually adjusts to be better at them!

He's strangely good with babies, even before he had his own! There's just something about him that makes them stop crying. He's also an expert at nap times.

    It’s an early weekday afternoon. The sun is shining through the blinds in warm golden rays, the sink clean and the dishwasher running. There’s a click once the message on the answering machine stops playing, and you have an uncertain frown on your face as you take it all in.

    The house is silent, brightly decorated with pictures of your close friends lining the walls of the hallway. The sounds of your husband quietly shushing your infant son gradually become easier to hear when you reach the cracked door of the nursery, pushing it open as quietly as you can.

    Warren’s back is facing you, fluffy wings almost glowing where the sunrays touch his feathers. Your newborn is sleeping in his arms, napping after a lunchtime bottle. He’s bouncing the baby just slightly, and you swear you can see his smile without ever having to see his face. It’s a sweet moment you want to crystalize in your memories. You lean against the doorway, smiling just as bright as you’re sure he is.

    "Hi~" You say sweetly after a moment. You were right. Warren’s happy smile is bright and blinding when he turns to look at you.

    "Hey," He says quickly, lifting your sleeping son so that you can see him better. "Hi Mama, say hi Mama!" Warren whispers as he lifts the baby’s pudgy little hand to wave at you. You can’t help but giggle, walking forward to kiss both of them on their cheeks- your little one not stirring from his nap. You take a breath afterward, leaning against his side as you debate telling him.

    “Something wrong?” Warren asks, one of his wings stretching out to wrap around your side and pull you closer to him. Normally you giggle, but today you bite your lip, unsure.

    "Your dad called." Your words are soft when you say it, and Warren immediately laughs in a way that sounds more like a scoff.

    “His secretary, you mean.” Warren attempts to correct, and his joking tone makes you frown a little, rubbing his upper arm in an attempt to be soothing.

    “No, not her, honey.” Warren stays silent after you say it, his brow furrowing as his face turns into a reflection of confusion and sadness. You can see the conflict as he turns the words over in his head, cooing and shushing your son back to sleep when he starts to stir a little, feeling the atmosphere shift. 

    “...what did he want?” He asks, voice low and quiet.

    “He left a message on the answering machine if you want to listen to it.” You tell him. “He, well… He wants to meet his grandson.” Warren scoffs at that, shaking his head as he starts to pace the room a little. You stand there, grounded as you watch him process the sudden contact.

    “He really said that? After all he’s put me through, he wants to meet our son… What a joke.” You grimace when Warren starts to laugh. He finally stops pacing to gently lay your son back in his crib. He leans against the side with one hand as the other rubs his eyes before it slides up to run through his hair.

    “Do you want him to?” You ask after a moment, stepping over to his side. He leans into your touch when you reach out to hold his cheek.

    “I-” Warren stops himself, taking a deep breath as he takes your hand in his own. “What do you want to do?” He asks instead. You shake your head at him, taking hold of his hand in both of yours, tracing the wedding band on his finger.

    “He’s your dad, love. It’s your choice.” You say softly. Warren is still frowning, and he lets out a long breath, deflating a little bit. He turns around to face you, pressing a kiss to your temple and holding you there for a long moment. You wish you had even a fraction of Jean’s or the Professor’s power, if only you could see what was going on in that head of his. He pulls you into a side hug, and the two of you spend a long while looking at your infant in the crib. The perfect mixture of the both of you. Certain to be a mutant in his own right. You can tell Warren spends every second thinking about it.

    When he steps away from you, He’s silent.

    “Warren?” You call out for him as he leaves the room. You’re about to follow when you hear the distinct sound of your son about to wake up, the little whine catching your attention as you coo him back to sleep instead. The door to the nursery is open, and just faintly down the hall, you hear the sound of the landline starting to ring.

    “Hey, Dad, it’s Warren. Is Saturday okay?”

Piotr Rasputin

GOD this man is so good with kids. I mean, have you seen those comic panels with him and his sister??

This man was made, built, forged to be a dad. He's protective but encouraging, and although he may be blunt, he knows when his kiddo needs some comfort.

He takes all the classes with you during the pregnancy, and he knows he'd never hurt his baby, but there's always a lil bit of worry in the back of his mind. He's a little too strong, and he hates the thought of slipping up and accidentally harming this fragile little soul the two of you brought into this world.

He gains confidence with time, and when the baby arrives he's always carrying them securely on one thick arm, belly down as they sleep soundly against him.

    His baby is so small when they hand her to him in the hospital. She's tiny. Smaller than the width of his arm. He looks like a giant as he holds her, sat next to your bedside as you recover from her delivery. He's in awe as he looks at her, a tiny little life, the greatest gift you've ever given him besides your hand in marriage. 

    You and others had always joked that his baby would be huge, big-headed, 99th percentile, and he never minded it. It was no secret that he was a big man, and he didn't mind what size the baby was as long as it was healthy, and looking at the little bundle of joy in his arms, he decides he wouldn't have it any other way.

    It's almost comical, how small she is. Hell, even you might have doubted the paternity of the baby girl if it hadn't been for her head of pitch-black hair, and pretty blue eyes. Almost a carbon copy of himself.

    “She has your eyes.” You say once her cries quiet down, and she begins to fall asleep in her father's arms.

    “No.” Piotr hums, gingerly touching his daughter's face. “They look much more like Illyana's.” You hadn't thought about that before, but now that he mentions it, the resemblance is undeniable. You giggle at that, Scooting closer so that you can lean on his shoulder.

    “The nurse said that she's waiting outside, when you're ready. I'm sure she's beyond excited to meet her niece.” You mumble. Piotr has placed a finger in the palm of your baby's hand, both of you smiling when the little fingers do their best to try and close around his fingertip. Piotr cannot wait to see the face of his sister when she sees your baby, but he'll be the first to admit, he'd like it if this moment could just last a little while longer.

Kurt wagner

Kurt is such a good dad oh my god.

He's always talking about you and the kids, bragging about literally everything you do ever. He's the kind of dad that has endless photos of his kiddos in his wallet, car, locker, everywhere.

And he's so devoted, too. He'll do anything you ask him to do during the newborn stage (and after) and is beyond supportive. His goals are happy Spouse, Happy kids, Happy life.

He's also very sentimental :) he thanks god every day for you and the blessing that is your baby.

    Kurt’s side of the bed was empty when you woke up this morning, and despite the normal amount of anxiety you normally feel when that happens, you feel peaceful. You’re smiling at the empty mattress, rolling over to his side to push your face into his pillow, taking a deep breath. Used to, you would be worried. You would wonder where he was, or if he was safe. If he had gone off on some x-men mission without telling you (which he never did). But today, you know exactly where he is. You’re smiling now as you think about it, pressing a kiss to his pillow before standing up.

    There’s a soft humming in the house, quiet and soothing. It’s not hard to figure out where it’s coming from, the path to the spare room having become second nature to you- although, it really wasn’t much of a spare room anymore. You try not to be too loud when you enter the room through the cracked door.

   Kurt is humming sweetly, your son laid out on the changing table as Kurt finishes worming his pudgy little legs through a new onesie. The baby whines a little, squirming around as Kurt attempts to change his clothes. 

    “Patience, Mein kleiner Schatz. This won’t take long.” Kurt says sweetly. Your son isn’t really having this whole changing business, and it makes Kurt chuckle. His tail is wrapped around a bottle of milk, and he sets it to the side right before he snakes his tail over the crib. He brushes the spaded end lovingly over your baby’s cheek as a distraction, and the infant coos as he finishes getting his arms through the sleeves. His tail takes over from there, buttoning the onesie's clasps as he turns to grab the bottle of milk instead- stopping for a split second when he sees you in the doorway. Kurt smiles.

    “How are my boys?” You ask, voice a little rough from sleep.

    “Gut! And lively, it seems.” He tells you. He passes the bottle off to his tail again when you walk over, taking you into his arms as he shakes the formula up a little more. Kurt kisses you sweetly on the lips, pressing his forehead against your own when you separate. 

    “Guten Morgen, Schatz. How are you feeling?” You swear you fall in love with him all over again each day when he greets you like that. You shrug your shoulders in response, smile dropping just a little bit.

    “I’m okay. Still tired, and definitely still bloated, but I’m okay.” You admit. Kurt frowns a little, brushing some hair from your face.

    “Did you see the medicine I left for you on the nightstand?” Kurt asks, and you immediately make a bit of a silly face, remembering that you didn’t exactly get up on your own side of the bed today. Kurt knows what that looks means and begins to laugh, just as your son begins to whimper and whine to be held and fed. You try to go pick him up, but Kurt stops you as he picks your baby up instead, bottle at the ready.

   “Go take your meds, I’ve got him, Liebchen.”

Remy LeBeau

Remy is a little nervous to be a dad.

Not in a flight way!! He's just a little worried that he'll be a bad influence on the kiddo. and well, I mean sure. If you're worried about the kiddo being a little rager and being into a few to many wild hobbies I guess (usually comes with the cajun territory)- but overall, Gambit is such a sweetheart, and if anything his kiddos would be so respectful and loving towards their parents.

Remy's very protective over your baby. The protectiveness is at it's height around 0-3yrs of age, but it never, ever goes away completely.

He might talk some smack about how a little bit of dirt/germs never hurt anyone, but He's actually the kind of dad that makes everyone put germex on before even thinking about holding the baby.

He's on top of feedings, and never fears a blowout when it comes to changing diapers (no matter how much he might gag). He might not have the diaper back stocked and loaded 24/7, but he's doing the best he can.

    When you wake up, It’s about 3am. Your eyes blink oper wearily, and the light from the alarm clock is practically burning into your eyes. You want nothing more to curl up and go back to sleep, and you almost do, until the time actually registers.

    3am. Its 3am, and you went to bed at 10pm. This is the first time you’ve woken up since then. Your veins feel like ice when you realize that you haven't heard the baby cry once. You rip the cover off of you, breaking out in a panicked run across the hall to check on your newborn. You don’t even realize that Remy isn’t even in bed until you slam the door open and see him standing there, your daughter in his arms as he rocks her to sleep in the rocking chair You breathe a sigh of relief as he looks at you with a tired smile, but your anxiety still remains.

    “Remy? Is she okay?” You whisper, practically leaping over to his side to take the little one out of his arms.

    “She’s Okay, Cher.” Remy replies softly. He stands from the chair, wrapping his hands around your back, the infant snug in between your bodies. You sigh again, taking a moment to look at your daughter carefully, eyeing her chest as it rises and falls, and straining your ears to hear her breathing. Remy gives you a second to get situated, yawning just a bit as he sways the three of you as you stand there. You relax as he holds you both, resting your head against his shoulder.

    “Why don’ you go back to bed.” Remy says after a long minute. “That was the longest I’ve seen you sleep in a while.” You frown. He’s not wrong. Your newborn has been a bit colicky lately, crying for nights on end since you brought her home with very few things to keep her comfortable. She has started to grow out of it, but the effects still remained. She cries a lot at nighttime, and it makes you wonder if that’s why you had slept so long, because of Remy staying up to keep her quiet.

    “And leave you here? Remy, how long have you been awake?” You ask, looking up at his face. He shrugs, smiling still as the three of you sway.

    “I’m fine. I can stay up all night if I need to, as long as you get to catch up on some sleep.” If it were any other circumstance, you might have swooned at the words. As sweet is he is, you can’t let him do that! He begins to step away to place your daughter in her crib, and you hold yourself back from trying to take her from him and commanding him to just go to bed.

    “Remy-”

    “Ah ah ah, Cher, don’t wake ma petit, now.” Remy cuts you off with a whisper, turning around to place a finger against his lips in a shushing motion. He almost makes you giggle, but instead, you simply shake your head at him. He pulls you into a loving kiss when he’s close enough, running his hand through your hair. You know he’s waiting for you to pull back, to retreat into the bedroom to sleep like he asked you to, but you’re still hesitant. He knows your stubbornness firsthand and chuckles when he pulls back a little.

    “Do I need to tuck you in, too?”

[meanbossart]

Any tips for new or returning artists?

I’m hoping to discover my own art style this year (from scratch, no references) by just throwing myself into learning anatomy, drawing random characters, and praying I can figure out how to add depth to pieces.

I have very minimal artistic experience and my work has improved significantly from where I started years ago, but not even close to where I’m hoping to be.

I can freehand faces and tweak the anatomy accordingly but I feel limited. Maybe it’s (in part) because I’m using an iPad, apple pen and Procreate? I recently added the paper-feel screen cover and that’s helped significantly with control.

Do you draw on paper to help your muscle memory? Honestly, ANYTHING helps. I watch videos on anatomy and art all of the time — I just don’t know if my brain is absorbing it correctly 😭

Hello! I don't know if I can say anything in particular to the returning aspect of your situation since I've drawn pretty consistently all of my life, but if someone else has had that experience of picking the skill back up after a long break, feel free to share your thoughts in the replies!

I'm not fully sure what you mean by "hoping to discover my own art (...) from scratch, no references", but if it means trying to whip up a style from thin-air and blocking out all outside influence or take any inspiration from existing art that you like... Uh... Don't do that! I don't see the benefit. All art is a derivation of a derivation, I can assure you that by compiling a folder or collage of your favorite works, borrowing and reworking aspects that you like, you WILL land on an original style and have learned so much more about it in the process than if you hadn't done that at all.

Also I can assure you that drawing on procreate/ipad is not a hindrance whatsoever, plenty of professional artists prefer it over display tablets. @wolfskulljack-art comes to mind as someone who has created several incredible tour posters for Metallica, all in her ipad.

I must have drawn on paper a total of 10 times in the last 5 years, I have no idea if that's bad or not... It Probably is, but I'm at peace with it, LOL. Generally when it comes to improving ( and I know that this is a frustrating answer) the secret is to just draw a lot. There is no class that is going to take you from amateur to Caravaggio, it takes time and takes making "bad" art. A lot of bad art. When it comes to learning anatomy, I think the best thing you can do is draw a lot of real-life human bodies from reference while consulting an anatomical diagram or model of some kind. Otherwise you will just making a bunch of lines without ever understanding their purpose.

I don't think you need to be an expert at the human body AT ALL before jumping into stylization and making confident, art, but if you do something like this whenever you draw I think you will end up learning a whole lot. Muscle memory (no pun intended) will come to you naturally!

I also have a lot more tips in my #tutorial and #advice tags that you can look through if you want to, otherwise, I would tell you to just do more drawing and less looking for the perfect tutorial or golden advice. A lot of artists get very boggled down in learning in the most correct and effective way, and while there are pointers that can be given, they tend to be very straightforward🤷 and the rest falls on you to follow through with!

[avelera]

I’m curious, how much control do you think Viktor was in in season 2?

I have tried to analyze this but am honestly stumped. Because on one hand it is clearly his intentions and logic being used. Since the beginning he has been wanting to heal people afflicted in Zaun (while it was also to cure his illness I don’t doubt wanting to help those in need was a legitimate motivation). He does immediately go to heal people in Zaun and all the conclusions he jumps to through the season do seem perfectly reasonable for him. He was the type of person who didn’t even conceptualize in season one that something like the hexclaw could be used as a weapon. That and the hexcore showing that he was a pacifist to the point of it being a massive blind spot to danger. So it makes sense being shot by Jayce of all people while in his eyes he was healing people would cause him to go all glorious evolution mode as a natural progression of his arc.

On the other hand he definitely didn’t come back right. The show makes a point to show in season one that the hexcore has some level of physical control over him, and even when going to heal the shimmer addicts he is following Sky’s voice. The writers also confirmed that it indeed was not Sky and was the hexcore manifesting his guilt to push him towards to glorious evolution. And his emotions definitely seem to be muffled and unexpressive. I know this part is joked about a lot but honestly even the fact that he chokes Jayce is surprising because he is consistently characterized as a pacifist to the point of it being a fatal flaw. He doesn’t even commit an act of violence in a show filled with fight scenes until the second to last episode, let alone against Jayce of all people. I think the last thing season one Viktor would do is intentionally cause physical harm to someone, hence why it is only at the part where he is the farthest gone.

Basically if I had to guess I’d say it’s like 50/50 level of control, but you have written some great character analysis so I’m curious what your thoughts are as to how much of season two was Viktor and how much was the Hexcore

Honestly, Anon, I'm wrestling with this on almost a daily basis myself when I write fics. It's definitely not helped by the fact they avoided a lot of exposition in S2 in favor of pacing (the slower pace of S1 allowed for a lot more signposting and exposition of what was going on, I think somewhat to the detriment of S2) and the fact that we don't really get much of Viktor after he stops being the Machine Herald, because to my eyes that's the first time we see the real Viktor all season and it would be nice to get him to express some contrast with what came before (though of course it would ruin the pacing of a perfect moment).

I think you basically nailed all of the points of confusion. I've ever considered tracking all the points where his voice warps for clues, because I think there is something to be gleaned from how and when his voice distorts, but in what direction is also a curious question.

Was saying "affection" kept them together more or less than what Viktor would have said to Jayce? Would he on his own have said love? Or would he, in his infinite shyness, have not dared to mention emotion at all, because Viktor is an expert at pushing those closest to him away and hiding his own emotions? Was that the Hexcore trying to drag Jayce in closer by calling it affection, or push him away before it could gain strength by lowering Viktor saying "love" down to just saying "affection"?

On the other hand, during the Herald's villain monologue at the end in the Astral Plane, his voice is distorted for almost every line except, "This senseless waste," which does feel like a sincere Viktor line, perhaps the only one that is truly him that whole time, including when he said he was pleased to see Jayce, in that horrible mocking tone. Could that not be the Hexcore speaking there?

I'll offer what I think is happening:

In order to chart "What is Hexcore" vs. "What is Viktor" it's less useful to look at Viktor's motives than the Hexcore's.

The Hexore wanted to expand its influence. It wanted to become powerful enough to have its own army and to destroy the civilization around it as other versions of the Hexcore have done throughout history. I believe it reached those goals by posing them as things Viktor, on his own, would want to do like help the needy, thus hiding its ends inside of Viktor's motives.

Note too that people who have dosed up on Shimmer are more susceptible to its molding.

Hence we can assume that the Hexcore, in the guise of Sky, using Viktor's guilt about her and his own failures to help the undercity, guided Viktor down to the Shimmer victim encampment specifically.

Viktor is not a mystic. The most mystical thing he says in S1 is that the Arcane speaks through mages. But the Hexcore is a magical artifact. Something like the Hexcore also destroyed a civilization centuries ago, and the figure in Heimerdinger's memory looks like Viktor when he's cloaked.

So personally, I think we can ascribe any mysticism to the Hexcore's influence too. That means the Cult, for example. Also Viktor's, "You need not suffer anymore," and kind of making them all genuflect to him, feels very OOC and just plain wrong for Viktor.

Whereas Viktor in the Astral Plane feels like real Viktor. Even the fact that when we show his point of view out into the world he is himself in a field of stars, seeing the real world projected in front of him like Plato's Allegory of the Cave gives the impression of imprisonment, like he's looking out through the windows of his own eyes to a shrouded world he can no longer directly touch.

And note, for example, that Sky/the Hexcore doesn't want Viktor to heal Vander. That's all Viktor. I believe the reason is because it doesn't want to run out of energy too quickly.

Basically, I think the Hexcore is stringing Viktor along there as Sky, giving him a little terrarium of stars to play in, while using him as a vessel of assimilation under the guise of healing. These are on both sides, inner and outer, things that Viktor wants to do, so he's seduced. He doesn't fight it.

I also think at a certain point, the Hexcore Viktor gains enough power to be able to impact people who aren't dosed with Shimmer. I think this comes later though, which is why it's not interested in Jayce at first but it is interested in assimilating him later. At that point, again, those motives align with Viktor's own sincere desire to see Jayce again (maybe he's sick of all the hippies in the commune lol) and the Hexcore is happy to get rid of someone who could conceivably stop it.

But note, the Hexcore is still playing along with Viktor. It could forcibly assimilate Jayce, but Viktor wants Jayce to choose his side willingly, so it holds back. In part too because that disappointment is what fuels Viktor to give himself over the Hexcore's goals entirely and ask for Singed's treatment with Apex Shimmer. At that point, as the showrunner noted, it doesn't need the guise of Sky anymore, it doesn't need to string Viktor along anymore. He's bought into the idea of forcibly assimilating the world if he can't get Jayce to join willingly.

I also heard an interesting theory that I'd like to factor in: basically, until he gains access to the Anomaly, Viktor doesn't have the power to strip himself of the Hexcore's influence or overcome it. That's why there's no point in Jayce trying to get through to him sooner, it wouldn't do anything because Viktor would still be trapped in its web.

Once they have the Anomaly, Viktor as an ascended being can strip away the Hexcore's influence. And that's why I lamented that we don't get more of his thoughts in that scene. Because I think an interpretation can be made that the Machine Herald look is just the human form of the Hexcore, using Viktor as a vessel.

Once that outer shell explodes, it really is Viktor again, with all the power of the Anomaly and Jayce's rune at his disposal. Now he and Jayce can work together to reverse the damage, free all the trapped souls from the Hexcore's web, and save the day. But we see that only then Viktor is able to view his own actions as himself, and he's horrified. There I think we get Viktor's one true, sincere reaction to everything that has happened up to that point and confirm that, yes, while the Hexcore interwove its seduction through Viktor's motives, none of this is what Viktor wanted. The ultimate outcome was the Hexcore's goals.

Quick Doylist addition: I also think there's definitely a draft where it's all Viktor getting controlled, but the writers know that can be kind of boring. It's better when characters take action and make choices, rather than being controlled. So I think that's why they settled on a combination of "The Hexcore's end goals, but Viktor's underlying motivations being twisted to support them."

[zmayadw]

|| I WILL FIND YOU ||

Duskwood (meets) Moonvale Oneshot

WARNINGS : contains Moonvale episode 1 spoilers

CHARACTERS: mostly Alan Bloomgate and Jake, with mentions of Richy and Mc ofc 😊

A/N: Hello, hello! 😊 Uhm, well, I kinda wrote something that got inspired with the (very) end of Moonvale 🤭 So here, have my first Duskwood meets Moonvale oneshot! Hope you'll find it likeable! 💚 Oh, and please, don't mind any mistakes you might stumble upon, it's 2am here, and I'm barely keeping my eyes open 😅

The hell with the FBI!

Alan curse inside for the umpteenth time already, as he slowly and carefuly searched through the Duskwood forest. He was the bloody Chief of Duskwood's police, and the moment the FBI showed, they treated him as some kind of rookie?? Outrageous!

He was actually grateful to be alone right now, because if that arogant FBI's agent in charge once more addressed him with such undermining tone, he would punch him right in the face with all he got!

He stops for a short moment and takes a deep breath to calm his raging nerves. Continuing on, his thoughts began to wander back to all that happened ever since he managed to finally get in touch with Mc.

Could the outcome of this all be any different if he only listened to her, like REALLY listened, from the start?

Would he be able to stop the explosion that happened in the mine, and not wander around feeling guilty and responsible for the most probable demise of young Mr. Rogers? If only he trusted that little voice at the back of his mind just a bit more...

His train of thoughts suddenly gets interrupted by a rustling coming from a close vicinity.

"Who's there?" his voice comes out firm as he turns toward the source of the sound, his flashlight and gun pointed steadily in the same direction.

He waited for a moment, and when there was no response he tries again.

"My name is Alan Bloomgate, Duskwood's Chief of Police. I'm armed, so I suggest you come out, slowly, and show yourself."

"Don't shoot, I'm unarmed."

A short heartbeat later he grips his gun tighter as rustling comes once again from behind a tree a few feet away from him.

Alan watch as a young dark haired man slowly appears from behind the tree, and from the way the man moved, he immediately knew he wasn't alone either.

"Please, he needs help."

Alan stood still in his spot, closely paying attention to every move the dark haired man did. But when he finally looked at the other person, his eyes open wide.

"My god, Richy Rogers!"

Unable to keep both of them on their feet, the dark haired man collaps to the ground, Alan instantly movig towards them, putting his gun away.

"Is he all right?" he drops to his knees next to Richy, quickly putting his fingers on his neck to feel his pulse.

"I- I don't know." dark haired man replies, Alan detecting discomfort in his voice.

He turns his gaze to him, his expert eyes noticing right away some bloody stains all over his hoodie, which looked pretty torn on some places, too.

'And you? Are you all right?"

The black haired just nods before Alan speaks again "Mind telling me how you got out of the mine?

The young man tried to hide the surprise from his face at his question, Alan smirking in response "No need to act so surprised. After all, I have a pretty good guess who you are."

He could notice the young man tensing so he quickly speaks "Also, you do not have to worry - your seizing isn't at the top of my list right now." He turns his attention back to Richy "But helping him is - his pulse is very weak"

He starts to get back up, lifting Richy along in his arms. "So, if I were you, I would start moving in that direction."

"Wait!" the dark haired man calls confused afer Alan, who already started to walk from him in the opposite way "Why are you doing this? Letting me go - the FBI won't go easy on you for it."

"Screw the FBI!" Alan yells over his shoulder, but then stops and turns back "But if you must know, I owe it to someone - and that someone happens to be very fond of you."

The young man breaths in astonishing making Alan chuckle. But his face turns back serious again "But also, firstly and mostly, I am a police officer. So go now, use this leverage as best as you can. Because our next encounter won't be this pleasant."

The young man stare silently as Chief Alan turns and continue on his way. And even though he was tired and in a lot of pain, a smile crawled on his face as he watched Alan vanish among the dark of a forest "There won't be a next encounter."

4 WEEKS LATER

Jake's eyes jumped all around the screen in front of him. His fingers were flying hastily over the numbers and letters on his keyboard. He wanted to do this as fast as possible. It already passed too much time before he managed to recover and acquire new equipment. And he also did not want to spend another second with the thought how Mc must be worried about him, not knowing if he's even alive.

And that thought pained him intolerably.

So he begin to type even faster, and not a minute later he leans back in his chair, waiting eagerly for confirmation tha she accepts the message he just sent her.

He didn't have to wait long for the sound alerting him of her acceptance, his hand lifting and hitting the enter key on his keyboard so fast and hard, it was a miracle it didn't break.

With longing, he imagined her surprised face as she watched how Alan found his things in the forest, wishing that he could tell her in person that he is alive and well.

But just like that, that longing dispersed, and his face beamed with a smile, just like the one he knew for sure she has on her beautiful face right now, as his message came to its end and the image appeared on the screen:

A/N: I'm sorry, but I just had to use this picture! 🥺🥺😭😭💚💚

[on-the-clear-blue]

Even though I know Bruce would have a brain aneurism at the mere thought of it because "what part of no identifying features do you not understand" I am thinking about the batfam and body art (tattoos, piercings and the such)

Alfred: you would think that this man is a proper British gentleman! But no, this man fought in wars and was a thespian, he would be tatted from wrist to collar bone in the style of wherever he was stationed during the war and likely with his battalions nickname somewhere. (Thomas and Martha both enjoyed kissing each one while they-...thats another post entirely)

Bruce: While he now thinks that they are horrible mistakes and had spent so much money seamlessly removing them from his body, Bruce was a party boy in the early 80s through the 2ks, that man got a tribalism tramp stamp, he had a butterfly/dolphin ankle tattoo, he got a Disney character doing a sexy pose on his back, and it pains him incredibly that he has to apply fake tattoos whenever Brucie needs to be seen somewhat unclothed (the only actually body modification that he has is scarification of the dates when he met all of his children) also likely had gages at some point but spent a lot of money to get his ears to a more natural point noe

Dick: so from brief research, (I am in no means an expert) Romani people don't tend to do tattoos, but as they are not a monolith and have many different groups among the Romani, I am going to have it that Dick gets at most his ears pierced? Maybe with some thst look similar to his mother's? Though I can see him being into henna, and getting it done on special occasions

Jason: Before getting picked up by batman this sweet boy ran in the streets and likely joined a gang at some point for protection? I can see some messily done, likely infected stick and poke of a skull or whatever some edgy gang leader chose as his "brand" to put on the street rats, but post dunk in the angriest lime jello? That little thing is gone, and after being a mob boss? I think Jason has a few tattoos, more than a few piercings, (I hc Jason as Hispanic, and we do have a tradition of getting piercings at a young age, though I think Jason would have lost the small diamond studs his momma saved up for to buy for him) he has at least one stylized cross somewhere on his body

Cass: I feel like she would like the idea tattoos, and would be an absolute trooper and not even flinching at the most painful places to get a needle jabbed repeatability into her skin, but wouldn't like the fact she can't change it, the same going for piercings, so I can see much more clip on stuff and temp tattoos!

Tim: "My body is a temple." Which is a filthy lie he tells the others. This man got Kon to do his piercings. Tim has nipple piercings and nobody finds out until the most unfortunate timing, likely involving an MRI and a lot of explaining to do why his nipples are bleeding.

Duke: This dork, this utter "Um actually 🤓☝️" Looking goober got a singular ear pierced once before he became Signal and cried, yeah maybe he could handle the pain now, but will he ever? Maybe later down the line...much much later.

Damian: isn't allowed to get any yet, wants to get anime weeb tattoos, "Tt, the League has trained me to withstand long sessions of torture, this would be nothing" he gets the names of his pets in a "no regurts" situation when he is 16, drunk and with Jon, thankfully he is able to hide it for a few months before Bruce finds it and is found later hunting down Jon.

Bonus

Babs: I see her as a sunflower kinda gall, has a sleeve of them (its actually a cover up because she used to have one of those super cringe, deathly hollows that flows into a mocking jay and a supernatural tattoo) used to have ear piercings but got rid of them after a particularly bad rogue tried to rip them out.

Steph: she has a nose stud and a tongue piercing, was totally there when Tim got his nips done, voted for him to get tassels, probably thinks tattoos are cool, but can't trust anyone to do it because she has been to nursing school long enough to know to say "fuck that shit"

Kate: similar to Alfred, got hot military tats, though followed after Bruce and removed most of them.

[xoxo-ren-xoxo]

Hermitcraft / Life Series Fic Recs

Because I love so many of them...

I'll split the fics into completed and updating fics, and try to only recommend currently updating fics (i.e., not abandoned). I'm going to write a little about why I like each fic and what the general vibes are - so this is also a kind of review I guess?

I've tried to @ the authors if they have a public tumblr. Sorry to anyone who didn't want to be tagged, I can remove any @ if you ask (or if I have embarrassingly tagged the wrong person). Anyway, enjoy, and I appreciate reblogs because I want as many people to see these fics as possible!!

This ended up being incredibly long so I'm putting a divider here. Click to keep reading!!! Also, fair warning: shipping ahead! Some fics will have mild sexual content, please read the tags if you are unsure <3

Updating Fics

I have already recommended Help Me To Breathe, lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart), and There Are Monsters Nearby in this post, so I won't explain why I like them a second time, but definitely check them out!!

Death's A Good Gig by @mawofthemagnetar is probably going to be finished by the time this post gets to you, reader, but I'm putting it here anyway. It's short and sweet, one of my favourite representations of Zedaph (or, Zedeath) I've read, and just a joy to experience. If you like grim reapers and discussions of unions, this one is for you. Also I need more Zedaph in my life.

Look, I'm Sorry, Please Stop Scaring Everyone by @cat-in-the-desert reminds me a lot of a particular TV drama I liked when I was younger, which followed a similar premise. This fic follows Mumbo (vampire) and Grian (ghost) as they get up to various housemate shenanigans and meet their local magic-expert and salesman Scar. This fic is fun, but still includes a nice amount of Feelings and hinted-at Angst which I really love. It's lighthearted, but never boring.

It Hurts To Hope by Inquillitory is my favourite of the "Grian crash lands into Hermitcraft and causes problems for everyone" genre. Seeing how many fics there are with that premise, I think that says a lot. It handles Grian's weird Watcher stuff really well. Honestly, I just want to know what happens next!

killing the boy in the tv by @raspberrystruck is like a sickfic on steroids. If you want Grian with so much past trauma he forgets how to function in society, this is basically the fic for you. I really love how hybrid traits affect the characters' interactions in this fic, and how everyone is kind of messed up because of the imbalance Grian brings. It is wonderfully descriptive in all the right places!

Love Me Like I'm Dead by @daniofcrows is such a gem. You know how hard it is to find good Xisuma whump? It's impossible. I absolutely love how Xisuma and Evil X are characterised in this, and I am obsessed with the unique take on hanahaki disease which I have never seen handled in this way before. The balance between flashbacks and present day is maintained wonderfully and I cannot wait to continue reading this one. Wow.

Oh, you wanted me to do a verse? by @bugbbear is... kind of indescribable. It's horror. It's comedy. It's the apocalypse. It's boatem. Scar eats someone. One of the most interesting and unique apocalypse stories I have read. Slowly updating but worth the wait, in my opinion. This one NEEDS more attention.

So Much For Stardust by @a-plethora-of-peters is basically one of my all-time favourites. Which is a damn good achievement seeing as I don't usually read ZITS fics. Like, ever. In this fic, Skizz is a human abducted and hurt badly by aliens, now recovering in the care of good aliens who don't know how 'sentient' he is. Every update of this one makes me smile, it is wonderful. I love how the characters are written and how the different perspectives are shown. It is just great.

Solar Waltz by @raspberrystruck and aroundtheclock is a brilliant and very very sad regression fic. I love fluffy regression fics as much as the next guy, but this one just... hits different. The hurt/comfort levels are off the charts. Grian is so damn cute the whole time, while also being harrowingly complicated and sad. I am so ready for whatever comes next.

Tango's Castle of Cards by @evilrat-sabre is the one where Tango is a BUG. He's just a little guy (horror). This one is so beautifully written, with poetry-type interludes and perspective changes that really make everything feel so much more impactful. Finding out your buddy is a murder bug isn't the easiest thing in the world. I love this so much.

Traveling Thieves {Dark Fantasy AU} (series) by @amethystfairy1 is basically one of the series of all time. I know I keep saying that but it really really is. I love a good fantasy au, and I love an au with hybrids even more. In this world, hybrids are treated like slaves, but it isn't all doom and gloom for the main characters of each installment. There is a lot of hurt/comfort and the different stories feed into each other in really interesting ways. I try to read as much as I can, though I've missed a few because my emails are buggy. Definitely worth reading these fics, especially since now they're all starting to come together!

Completed Fics

Solving Counting Sheep by @theminecraftbee might have rearranged my brain chemistry a little. Another strong contender for 'fics that inspire me to kill Grian', this time with a more concrete notion of "replacement". Three is my favourite fucked up living weapon. It's so rare to find Evo fics in this day and age, too. This fic had me immediately clicking on every update as soon as I got the emails.

Rescue Fire by @imaginethat0327 is one of the most unique takes on a fictionalised life series game that I have ever read. The whole concept is explained in a realistic and easy-to-follow way, as we learn what's happening with the characters. There are several brilliant storylines happening in this one, but my particular favourites are Jimmy & Tango, Joel, and of course Scar & Grian. This fic is full of whump and, well, read the tags, it isn't always pleasant, but those are my favourite things ever. Definitely worth checking out this fic and its currently updating sequel.

don't you know about me? by takenbadgering is a wonderful comedy of errors with just the right amount of angst for a realistic setting type of fic. If you enjoy polyamory miscommunications, rave aesthetics, kandi, school teacher dynamics, and a lovely blend between grumbo, cubscar, and mumscar, this is the one.

Eventually the Birds Must Land by @milo-hypno follows a polyam ship I would have never thought of, and I cannot believe how much I loved it. This married-as-friends fic premise is wonderful, and captures the main trio (Grian, Mumbo, Impulse)'s personalities so well, while balancing them with the incredibly terrifying descriptions of the Watchers and their power. There's a lot of angst here, but it is ultimately hurt/comfort to the maximum degree. I loved reading it as it updated. Yay for gay marriage!

From The Archives (series) by @sixteenth-days was the absolute inspiration for my own Comms AU, and I will never forget its influence on me. As someone basically unfamiliar with TMA, I thought this series might be hard to follow, but it was not! I read all 57 parts in the span of two days, and I think it altered my brain chemistry. Please read it, even if (especially if) you don't know anything about TMA. The Cleo and Grian storyline lives in my head rent free. I mean it. This is horror at its finest. Also there's an audio series of this fic being released rn, which is very cool.

SUPERCRITICAL by @masque-of-plague hits different. It is such a wonderful take on the superhero/HotGuy trope, and it gets so super dark at some points! This one really takes swings at it's fictional government, which of course I love, while at the same time building this brilliantly emotional relationship between Scar and Grian. I do enjoy a bit of enemies to lovers, but the actual plot mixed into the story makes this one extra special. It is thrilling, with action that I don't get to see too often! Great work.

I am weary with contending! is one of the mumscarian fics of all time. From 'this house has people in it'-type horror, to magic gone wrong, to childhood trauma, to attempted assassination, to gender fuckery, this fic has it all. Usually I don't go for convex siblings, but this one is good enough to get a pass from me. Amazingly detailed worldbuilding alongside a brilliantly creative story.

It Spreads by @foxxology may not count as a fic, actually. It's a comic. But it's posted on ao3 so it counts. I was obsessed with this one as it was updating, honestly. It rocked me to my core. The art is phenomenal. The writing is brilliant. I love sculk.

Luck of the sea by Sleepy_Duck is a lovely take on mermaid and human interactions, with Grian as a marine life conservator and Scar as a very neglected mer. This one takes us emotionally in all sorts of directions, and offers lots of hope for the future of the characters. I heavily enjoyed this fic - if you like mermaids and marine biology, check it out.

there are many downsides to being a marine biologist by donnerstag is another mermaid fic but with a pretty different vibe. First of all, it follows what I would consider a rarepair Doc/Martyn. Second of all, reading this as it updated was a thrilling experience that nearly made me cry at certain points. I love how the relationship builds in this fic. It is honestly amazing. The whole idea of experimenting on a sentient sea creature, learning that he can communicate, then losing funding and having to save him from being dissected?!?! It's crazy. I love it.

Thus concludes my fic recommendations. I hope you enjoy at least some of these, and consider reblogging to spread these wonderful fics around <3

[cosmal]

red solo cup — send me an au + a character n i’ll write u a blurb ie rockstar!sirius rugby!james bartender!eddie

ooooo spidersona!eddie maybe? i've been seeing some spider-man aus recently and i'm super curious how you think eddie would b as a webslinger. 🤍

patches

summary spidey!eddie is a little too blasé about the way he treats himself on patrol.

content spidey!eddie x reader

note i loved this req pls!!! ilysm for this xxx I didn’t write it how I wanted too my writers block killed me halfway through

Eddie never had to scale a building to get inside his home. He lived in a trailer. Which was fine with him - he’s lazy sometimes and it’s all he’d ever known. Being a vigilante doesn’t pay well.

And then you and Eddie move into a 42 story apartment building in Queens, New York. So he has to swing in through the window via the fire escape. At the end of his night shift, he’s definitely lazier than he wants to admit. Why do we have to live on the 39th floor?

He’s had a regular night. A few knife fights, carjackings, and attempted muggings. Nothing out of the ordinary for New York City on a Friday night. So, despite Eddie’s super human strength and stamina, he’s tired when he lands at his window. Eddie’s idea of a regular night isn’t all that true.

He clambers in and you don’t even turn from where you’re sitting at your vanity.

“Y’know, one day it won’t be me coming in through this window.” Eddie laughs, his voice muffled by spandex.

You look at him in the reflection of your mirror, he stands back, over your shoulder, leaning on your shared wardrobe.

“Whoever it is, they won’t leave sticky webs on our windowsill,” you laugh. You have shiny patches under your eyes, your hair pushed back out of your face.

Eddie takes off his mask and his hair springs out of it. You’ve always wondered how it fits it all inside the spandex — you’re sure it’s magic, it defies physics.

Eddie’s got a black eye. You finally turn around and forget about the mess. “Ed’s,” you tut, there’s worry in your voice, but also a touch of disappointment. “What happened?”

Eddie laughs and you frown. “Some guy tried to rob the 7-Eleven down the block.”

You disappear down the hall suddenly and come back with a blue ice brick he’s become all too accustomed to. You wrap it in a wet hand towel and move Eddie to sit down on the bed. He leans back on his hands and you stand between his legs.

He’s bruised and scraped. The top layer of skin broken, blood beads from start to finish. You hold the pack to his face and he winces. You wrinkle your face up with a sadness and Eddie reaches forward to grab your hip. Your pyjama top bunches under his hold, he decides to slip his thumb into the waistband of your pants.

“You’re too reckless,” you murmur.

“No, I’m not.” Eddie doesn’t know why he says it.

“Eddie.”

“Baby.”

You sigh. "You're bleeding, and you're all bruised up." These all feel like repeated words that always fall on deaf ears. "You want me to sew your suit up?"

There's a tear in his suit over his collarbone. "I can do it." Eddie has sewn up countless holes in his jackets, he thinks he's a bit of an expert now.

You tie his hair back out of his face with a hairtie from your wrist. "Did you kick some ass?"

Eddie admires how brave you are, a lot. "So much ass," he says.

"If your hop in the shower, I'll wash your suit and heat up your dinner," you tell him. Eddie turns his head and kisses the palm of your hand where it rests on his face.

"I'll wash my stuff, baby." He starts to take off his suit. It's stuck to his ribs with dried up blood. "I'm not that hungry, don't worry about me."

"Even superheroes need to eat," you tell him. "I've made meatballs."

Eddie's stomach grumbles. "Okay. I'll shower and then get my patches out."

"Patches? Eddie you can't stick a Metallica logo on your suit."

"Watch me."

[vani-ash]

Hi, I'm new here, I've just discovered Jeff a couple of weeks ago. And now I feel like a teenager again with a celebrity crush 😅

I'm very busy irl and I'm slowly working my way through his acting gigs and music videos. As a Jeff expert, what do you suggest a newbe like me should watch/listen to/read/know? I'm a little confused about all the Jeffs :D

a jeff expert 😭

Hi! Welcome!!! ❤️🥰 I hope you understand by asking this you have given me the opportunity to info dump about this man 😭 I'm sorry in advance but here is a (still very long) basic guide to Jeff Satur :)

Acting

I don't know what you have and haven't watched yet but his main show is KinnPorsche (which you can watch on IQIYI) his character Kim is only a side character though.

There are two series you can watch on youtube

He she It (3 episodes, about 50 minutes all together)

Labeled as a horror but it's not really.

Ingredients the series (21 episodes, each aprox 10-20 minutes)

Cute slice of life series about cooking

He just had a movie come out called The Paradise Of Thorns, it is on Netflix in Thailand (and will probably come to netflix in other country's too eventually) so you either need a VPN or other site to watch it currently

Happy Ending

Jeff is currently in the process of making his own series called Happy Ending.

He has made a pilot for it but it hasn't actually been filmed yet and is scheduled to start filming sometime around the middle of this year, and be out around the end of the year.

Vamp

He is also going to be part of another show called Vamp, Also not filmed yet but scheduled for sometime this year.

Wuju Bakery

This was filmed back in 2023, and was meant to come out the same year and then the date got moved twice, something happened and the company that was making it did some shady things and now its unknown if this will ever actually air, but you can still find bts photos and people often reference this show so I'm going to mention it here.(There is also 40 second trailer)

Call Me By Fire S3

Jeff was also on a Chinese survival show called Call Me By Fire S3 (can be found on youtube, there is english subtitles)

Music Videos/Jeffcest

Jeff has been making music for 10 years, (he used to use the names Jeff the Demo and Jeff Garden if you want to look up any of his earlier songs on youtube)

Due to his whole vibe (and specifically his music video for Ghost, which is actually a two part MV continued in his other song called Yellow Leaf)

People started shipping him with the characters he plays in his music videos. This has been labeled as Jeffcest, and each Jeff is a clone, the clones are each named after their respective song titles unless they already have name, pretty much everything about Jeffcest is fan made.

The most prominent of Jeffcest being a character called Sunshine from the music video Dum Dum. (There are 3 music videos for Dum Dum, Thai, English and an Unchained version)

(Ghost and Lucid are two of the other most used)

Jeff has dressed up as Sunshine during a concert and was also just brought back in Jeff's most recent MV called Ride Or Die. (which only came out 5 days ago)

Sunshine has his whole own lore (not fanmade comes from Jeff) which I wont get into here but if you want me to explain feel free to message me :)

Jeffs most popular song is probably Fade (based on the views, 208 million)

But his other most popular song is probably Why Don't You Stay which is an OST from KinnPorsche. There is a Thai and English version.

All of his MVs have an interesting story line so they're all worth watching at some point.

Some songs Jeff is featured in:

Far - Silvy ft. Jeff

แผลเป็น (scar) - bodyslam ft. Jeff

Steal the Show - Shaun ft. Jeff

จำนน (White Flag) - Nont Tanont ft. Jeff

Other Things

Whenever Jeff preforms, wherever he is, it rains. He got joked to be the son of the rain god due to how often this happened, and for Halloween 2023 he held a contest for people to design him as the Rain God. (Rain God is also often used in Jeffcest)

Acounts

Jeff has his own company/studio called Studio on Saturn

Twitter - Instgram

On the last day of the month this account will post his schedule for the upcoming month letting you know when he has any scheduled events.

This Youtube account often posts fancams of the whole event from most of Jeffs events.

This youtube account posts any Lives Jeff does.

Brands

Space Shuttle No.8

Jeff put out his first album last year and it came with a box set (can no longer be brought but I have photos of the whole thing here :)

Pets

This man has so many cats like 20 something last time i heard him talk about them 😭

(And I don't know where to put this but his fans are called Saturdayss or Sats)

i am so sorry how long this is but I hope this was what you wanted and helped 😭💛💛💛

[entropicbias]

star trek online with a youtube video.

(note, this is an old post, but i've decided to do more blogging like this here, so i remembered it.)

i decided to try out star trek online and live out my trekkie fantasies the other day. my first run in with the game was eons ago at a thrift store, but my current laptop is lacking a cd player, so i couldn't really try it out for sure. i don't know if it would work anyways considering it's a copy of the game from, what, 2010? what would be the point of that.

the first star trek game i ever played was the TNG game for the snes. i emulated it on my shitty old laptop. it was unfortunately a bust, cause i had no idea what i was doing.

speaking of tng, before i do my review, did you know a certain somebody used to make tng edits? can you recognize that flute sample?

anyway, my best friend dave (who doesn’t even have a tumblr) brought it up, assuming i’d never heard of star trek online. TCH! who do you think i am, you simpleton? naturally, i had to flex on him. whipping out the cd like some kind of seasoned star trek online veteran just to make a mockery of him. but really, the joke is on me, because let’s be honest, no one takes a self-proclaimed star trek online expert seriously.

so, i downloaded it off steam and ignored all the mixed reviews! i didn't stay in character creation for too long, but i tried to make him resemble me as much as possible. that's because my character's name is john kirk. he is john tiberius kirk.

john t. kirk of the u.s.s johnterprise. because enterprise is a restricted word (STUPID AND LAME?)

here is what i was greeted to.

quite frankly, i'm a little upset at the amount of diversity aboard. already i am seeing TWO vulcans. this is absurd. there is only one vulcan that should be aboard my ship, and he hasn't finished downloading the game yet.

OK! TIME TO PLAY THE FREAKIN' GAME FOR REAL! :D

after picking some of my skills (i chose to be aggressive, pistol handy, and uhh... i forgot the other one but believe me when i say it was good.)

i am meet this son of a bitch

captain...? CAPTAIN? OF THE JOHNTERPRISE? THE HELL YOU ARE! GET YOUR FALLOUT CLAYMATION ASS OFF OF MY FREAKING CHAIR! i thought you started out as captain? what is the point of naming my ship if i don't even get to be captain??? i need to show this guy who is BOSS.

the second thing i figured out about this game, is that if you walk into an object and believe in yourself you can actually gyrate with skill akin to that of a zumba instructor. so, i immediately had to gyrate next to captain isaac carrot to put him in his place.

it was a massacre for garrett. if i was you, "captain", i'd hang my head in shame and go back to being an ensign from being so hopelessly outmatched. it was also at this point i remembered that i could record my gameplay, which countered my ability to remember that my computer's cpu couldn't properly cool itself and i hadn't turned on my laptop fan. so amidst scanning some debris, my computer shat itself and died.

AND THEN RECORDED THE REST OF MY GAMEPLAY! watch it here. https://youtu.be/eeEs0el8Woo?si=djN9iLpkH3bGwNle there is some impossibly hard to read commentary there, and you may be wondering why i don't talk, and that's because i sound like bart simpson, so it's best that you just squint your eyes and pretend like morgan freeman's sultry voice is narrating my captions. if you do not want to sit through half an hour of shitty footage, then feel free to skip to 24:47 where i realize that you do not get a chance to meet captain kirk at the end of your first rodeo, and it genuinely breaks my heart. that is todays post, goodbye. update from jan 2025: i haven't touched the game since because i realized that i was just not going to be all that invested if most of the gameplay was from outside of the ship and i didn't have my very own personal spock.

-eb

[the-golden-vanity]

Is there anything that’s stood out to you as different or unexpected the first time you went sailing? Especially if you’ve ever spent long trips out at sea. I’m writing a seafaring character and I’d love to hear any firsthand experience about it 👀✨

Hello, shipmate!

Firstly, I'm honored to be asked such a question. I'm far from an expert, but I suppose crewing a tall ship on the open ocean is an experience few are lucky enough to share in this day and age.

I signed on to the Pride of Baltimore II for a voyage up the coast with the idea that after reading so many books about pirates, whalers, explorers, and other seafarers, and after watching so many movies and TV series set during the Age of Sail, the only way I could feel truly complete was by experiencing the Age of Sail firsthand. I think I told more than one person on Boat Tumblr that this would either fix me or it would make me worse.

...I'd like you to guess which one happened.

Much of what I encountered on the ship was familiar to me from history and fiction. However, what reading and watching movies can never quite capture are the physical sensations. Here are a few:

The ship makes noise. All the time. It's very rhythmic and predictable, and it is constant. Timbers creak, ropes strain; if the wind is variable or unfavorable, the sails flap loudly. Some of my fellow guest crew were bothered by this, but I loved it. At the end of a watch, especially one where a lot of work needed doing, the rhythmic noises and the rocking motion of the ship were just what I needed to fall asleep for the next seven hours, or until I was called up for standby. I understand now what it means to be "rocked in the cradle of the deep."

If your vessel is well-ventilated, your vessel is sinking! When you are belowdecks, you are essentially in a wooden box. If it's warm on deck, it is oppressively hot and stuffy below, and although my berth had a door, I kept it open most of the time to catch what little breeze came through the main hatchway. The temperature cooled down as we sailed north, and was eventually pretty decent, except when the auxiliary engines were on. I can only imagine in the 19th and early 20th centuries, with steam-powered auxiliary engines, it would have been even hotter!

No one knows what day it is on board. Everyone's on watch on a "4 hours on—4 hours off—4 hours standby" schedule, so you're on duty for 8 hours total, split between opposite sides of the 24-hour day, so "days" don't really have much meaning. This would probably also explain why I saw several of my shipmates wearing an outfit multiple days in a row–it just didn't occur to them that it was a different day.

Before you get your sea legs, you will spend a lot of time stumbling around, falling on your ass, holding onto things for dear life. This, I think, is pretty common knowledge. What I don't think is common knowledge is the fact that once you get your sea legs, land feels like it's moving under your feet. While you're fully awake, it goes away pretty quickly. However, I was waking up for days afterward—like, 4 or 5 days afterwards—convinced that my room was rocking like a ship. Deeply strange, but absolutely worth it, since it meant I had been at sea.

That's what I can think of right now! Let me know if you have any other questions, I'm always happy to answer them.

[just-a-carrot]

So I was originally going to ask something completely and totally different but I wanted to genuinely ask: we generally know the cast’s alcohol tolerance, what’s their weed tolerance if they were to do it? And what kind of high would they be?

Because I can imagine Iggy takes one puff and starts seeing the hat man (That’s not normal btw. Bro just has insane weed anxiety. Definitely rambles “oh my god my parents are gonna know I’m high” despite being 30 years old + living by himself at that point)

Orlam was in a frat. He has smoked before in my honest opinion. I like to think his tolerance is similar to his alcohol. Orlam’s been high this whole time. He’ll, he’s nearly greened out, but no one can fucking tell because he’s playing it off so well (Nobody let him drive tho. It’s not safe genuinely). All his college buddies are like “Orlam did you even have a hit” and Orlam’s 9 hits deep and looks like he could file his taxes (I imagine him having the WORST hangovers tho to make up for it. He looks like the dead when he wakes up the next day and doesn’t move for a solid 6 whole hours)

I have ideas for the other characters but I genuinely want to know your opinion (if you’re comfortable) because thinking about it is genuinely so hilarious to me

Hahaha what a question 🤣

I admit I'm not very experienced in this, so perhaps my answers can't be very thorough (and may not be super accurate either, as they're only based on vibes). I have only tried it once myself and didn't really like it so it's hard for me to say with a lot of certainty 😂

starting first with what you said, it feels pretty accurate to me. I agree that Orlam would probably be similar as with alcohol where he wouldn't really show it at all. It just feels very fitting for him. I think that perhaps he wouldn't be one to indulge in it often but if offered (and using his acumen to ascertain the vibes and security of the place) he would be happy to, especially with others. I don't think he's the type to ever use it on his own though, more so as a social thing

Iggy also feels accurate. I think he'd be the type to get a bit wary around it, especially as he's always had a thing about "not getting in trouble," and also just get really zonked out and squishy and touchy, just like wanting to cuddle and letting his inhibitions go of liking to feel someone's warmth against him in a secure soft way, especially because he'd quickly just get so out of it and woozy. I think it'd be hard for him though because he can't handle the smoking aspect. so he'd probably need edibles or someone to blow it in his mouth no I have never thought about this not once ever 😃

I think Genzou'd probably use it the most out of the crew, it just fits him somehow LOL he'd probably be the type to just roll himself one before bed sometimes. Or if he's having a particularly bad day. He's probably quite used to it so would need a lot to feel a strong high, and in those cases would just get really lazy and chill and a little bit silly

Gidget feels like the type who might have used it sometimes in college while hanging out in big groups but not really afterwards, maybe just in very certain occasions with friends. I think they'd mostly just get a bit giggly but it's hard for me to picture super well

I don't think bucks has ever or would ever tbh, she just doesn't strike me that way, so it's hard for me to say. Probably because there would have been quite strict regulations while she played ball so she never even thought about it and it carried on even afterwards

I hope this feels mostly accurate hahaha 🤣 but also since I'm not much of an expert I welcome anyone else's head canons about it

[bravo4iscool]

Could you maybe make a comfort one with Simon or Soap please? Like the reader has trauma and gets triggered by something and has a panic attack? If not that's okay! You don't have to! <33

but what if i did both👀? hehehehehehehe

this is an amazing idea! since you didn‘t mention if reader is civilian or military i‘ll go with military… but technically this could also be civilian lol

all i know about ptsd i know because one of the main characters of my favourite series (ray perry from seal team) struggled with ptsd after he was taken hostage. i’m in no way a expert about this whole topic or anything else…

reader‘s call sign is „venom“. and for the love of god idk how to imitate a scottish accent, so please don’t hate me cuz i didn‘t do it🧍🏼

btw IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG! i’m in my final 10 weeks of school and it’s so stressful😭😭

(masterlist)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!!!

john „soap“ mactavish

soap didn‘t know that something was off. he suspected something—maybe—but he wasn‘t 100% sure. so, when you start to disassociate, your pupils dilating he at first wasn‘t sure how to act.

„ey, ey!“ he nudges your shoulder, a visible frown on his face. „venom? venom, hey!“ you don’t answer, your gaze darting around the room.

he waits another second, wondering if you’ll answer but then it clicks and he knows what’s going on. you’re having a ptsd period.

he carefully stepped away from you and looks around. he needs to find out what exactly triggered you. “i’m gonna step away for a second, okay?” he tells you, taking one step after the other.

your head twitches but you don’t answer, only stumble back a little bit. soap wasn‘t unfamiliar with ptsd, ghost suffered from it too, but he didn‘t know you had to fight it. you‘ve always acted to strong and put together, so what was your trigger?

„soap?“ your weak, rasp voice calls out for him and immediately he’s beside you again, his hand reaching out for you. „soap, don‘t go,“ you plead, your hands shaking when you grasp him, your knuckles white and your grip bruising. you choke out a, „don‘t leave me.“ and he promises he won‘t.

„i‘m here,“ he assures you, carefully and gently removing your hands from his arms and placing them around his waist so he can properly hug you. „i won‘t leave; ever.“

you sink into the hug, your hands crunching up his shirt with your grip. you were save, no? you were safe…

you weren’t…there. you were here; with soap. he was holding you, keeping you sane. you didn’t need to worry about anything.

he’d keep you safe.

simon “ghost” riley

the moment simon realizes you’re having another ptsd episode he’s beside you, his hand hovering over your cheek.

“stay w’me, venom,” he murmurs, his gaze searching for yours. “c’mon… stay w’me.”

when you make no sign to move he slowly exogenous his hand so it fully cups your cheek and he pulls you close.

your hands slightly tremble and you look at him with blown eyes. your breath is staggered and you feel this familiar yet unwanted rustling in your ears. you want it to stop.

“take deep breaths love,” simon instructs you as he cradles you hand in his to hold it against his chest. “j’st like i do.”

tears start to gather in your eyes while you try to focus on simon but your thoughts were screaming at you, dragging you down that hole you didn’t want to drown in.

“y’doin’ amazing,” he whispers in a gentle voice, his other hand pulling your heard against his chest with careful hands. “j’st like that. perfect.”

you let out a couple of chocked hiccups as you try to relax against simon’s body, doing all the tasks therapy taught you.

“‘m sorry,” you swallow in a voice rough from crying.

“no, none of that,” simon frowns. “y’doin’ exactly what y’were taught.” his one hand tightens over your that’s laying on his chest, his other he buries in your hair. with a careful movement he places his chin on top of your head.

“d’nt ever apologize f’havin’ problems,” he tells you in a quiet voice, his hold on you tightening.

he’d never let you go.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Smutty dialogue and dirty talk

I was chatting with a good friend about dirty talk (as one does). We were discussing the things we like and dislike, the things we wish our partners would say, and the things that are absolutely not for us. And because of this, I was thinking about how tricky dirty talk is, not just in real life, but also in writing.

On occasion, people have DMed me to ask for advice on writing smutty dialogue. While I'm in no way an expert, I have written a fair amount of smut, and of course, I made my name writing this bit of filth, which is entirely dirty talk. So I do have at least some experience.

When I was a wee little DJ, I used to steal magazines from my older sister and hide with a flashlight to read the sex advice column, as curious little DJs are wont to do. I don't remember any of it EXCEPT for one column that has stuck with me for the last *cough cough* decades.

A reader requested advice, saying that their partner had asked them to talk dirty, and they were struggling with what to say. They said it felt unnatural and awkward, and they could never think of anything to say in the moment. The columnist came through with some truly excellent advice.

They suggested starting out simple: "I love the way your X feels in/on my Y."*

The columnist said that eventually the words would start to flow as they became more comfortable with talking in bed, but that the most important thing was just to be honest about how their partner made them feel. Honesty is the key to making dirty talk feel natural and authentic instead of forced and rehearsed. It's about connecting with your partner(s), not about putting on a performance.

And that's exactly how it works with writing, too. The key to writing great smutty dialogue, in my opinion, isn't to try to force it to be the dirtiest, most explicit thing ever (not that there's anything wrong with that). It's to just let your characters say how they feel in that moment.

It doesn't need to be a flowery, heartfelt declaration of eternal love; it can be as simple as, "Damn, you have an incredible [body part of choice]," or just feedback like, "Don't stop," "God, you feel good," "Harder," "I love the way you taste," "Do that again," or, "Right there, just like that." Don't underestimate the impact of a well-timed curse, either. And if a flowery, heartfelt declaration of eternal love is what feels right in the moment, go for it! It's your story, and you can write it however you want.

*Note that neither X nor Y have to always refer to genitalia or even necessarily to body parts. I'll be reblogging with examples, but I'm keeping this post reasonably SFW.

Sexy, smutty taglist:

@523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49 @arcsimper5 @clio3kantarella

@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream

@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @marierg @idontgetanysleep @lonewolflupe

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[nightshademyn]

Ok but can we please talk about Athena's Character Development in Epic: The Musical? (EPIC!Athena Appreciation Post)

I've been thinking a lot about Athena's characterization in Epic because Athena is my favorite goddesses in all of Greek Mythology ever since I was a kid, and her songs in Epic are my absolute favorites, and her character arc means so much to me as someone who adores and resonates with her.

I adore her entire arc so much, because it's a lesson I find myself struggling with. My Goodbye is one of my favorite songs, but it's also a song where I don't think Athena is entirely right. I think as much as Odysseus is wrong in completely disregarding Athena's advice, he's right about Athena being prideful and vain in this moment. Because she is! I might be extrapolating a bit from other myths where Athena's pride is fully on display (see Arachne), but in Epic, Athena is too prideful to consider that she might not be entirely right & she's overlooking the very human emotions that Odysseus is going through at the loss of his friends. Because of that pride, she shuts Odysseus out and doubles down in abandoning him. When she begins to consider that maybe, just maybe, she was wrong in the years following, she doesn't seek out Odysseus immediately to acknowledge that she was wrong. Instead, she protects her pride and tries to fix her mistakes by taking on a new mentee (Telemachus). And I think that she does this because admitting you've messed up is difficult! And it's easier to try to fix things in a roundabout way, especially when you mess up at something you're supposed to be an expert in. And in We'll Be Fine, she's still protecting her pride by considering she messed up when talking to Telemachus, which is still easier than directly admitting her mistakes. However, Telemachus is able to help process the fact that she has made a mistake.

"Maybe to fall is to learn one way" is a hard lesson to learn when you’re proud of yourself and the work you do. When you fail at something you’ve whole identity to the way Athena's identity is tied to her expertise in war, it can be soul shattering to come to terms with. It’s hard not to take it as a personal failure or indicative of poor character. It's difficult, but it's important to learn that failing isn’t a personal fault to fail so long as we learn from it and grow, and that’s a lesson I think Athena needed to learn. It's why I resonate with her so much. I was that student who struggled with criticism because I was so proud of my academic successes that any mistakes I made in my schoolwork felt like a personal failure. I see my own pride and flawed sense of identity in her struggles.

Back to the point, it’s why God Games really is a show of how much she’s grown. Post-Cyclops saga Athena wouldn’t have gone through a gauntlet to save Odysseus. She was stubborn and had already doubled down on her insistence that Odysseus failed and therefore they were through. But Wisdom saga Athena, one who’s become wiser by seeing her failure as a learning experience and has set aside her pride to help her friend, did whatever it took to convince Zeus to allow Odysseus to escape Calypso's island, even if it meant facing his wrath.

And finally in her last appearance in ICHBW brings her character arc to a close. She's able to admit in her last conversation with Odysseus that she made a mistake ("I can't help but feel like I led you astray") where in the Wisdom saga, even when speaking to Telemachus, she couldn't directly admit that she had done something wrong, framing her thoughts as a "maybe' instead of a direct acknowledgment ("Maybe if I'd made a different call/Maybe if I hadn't missed it all/ Maybe he'd be fine"). She's able to finally, fully admit to Odysseus's face that she messed up as his mentor in spite of her pride.

TL;DR: I love Athena's character arc and I identify with it so much as someone who also struggles to admit she's messed up in an area she's incredibly proud of and Athena remains my favorite character in the entire show