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[go-ahead-and-whump]

Saige Cant Swim -Epilogue-

A lil Bren and Dan friendship back lore for ya. This blurb takes place after they get back from this catastrophic beach day. Italicized is a flashback to a time Bren would come bother Dan while they were in the area visiting their dad for spring and summer breaks.

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Bren climbs up over Blondie to sit on the back of the couch behind Dan, tucking their legs close to his sides and wedging their feet under his hips. Blondie shifts slightly, gently rolling forward to let them in. Dan grumbles confused as to what they're doing until Bren starts collecting his hair off the back of his neck and prod at his shoulders methodically.

“Bren?”

“Are you sore?” They pause.

“I’m fine. I took a tylenol earlier.” 

“Am I bothering you?” they ask, taking their hands away. Dan gives an amused little huff at their concern.

“Nah. you’re fine.” It wasn't like Bren to care whether they were bothering him or not, but he knows that they’re still anxious and in need of something to do. Being still won't cut it right now, and he is pretty sore, so he keeps quiet. 

Bren liked taking care of Dan. They wished he’d do it for himself more, or ask for help before he was running on fumes. Bren finds a particularly gnarly knot at the base of his neck and presses. Dan makes a face, lolling his head forward for easier access. 

“I’m just gonna work this one out ok?” Dan nods, with an affectionate grumble. He liked when Bren took care of him.

There’s a rumbling knock at the door, someone rolling their knuckles up and down in a way that can only mean one person. Dan rolls out of bed and stumbles forward, rubbing gunk out of his eyes and wiping his fingers down the sides of his sweats. He tries sniffling to no avail. The crust that had formed around the inner walls of his nostrils pulled at the nose hairs, prompting a wet sneeze. How was it possible to be plugged up and snotty at the same time? Hot and cold, snotty and stuffed, nauseous and hungry. The knocking grows louder and more persistent. 

“Hold your horses! I’mb comin’!”' He hollers with a sore throat

The door swings open and Bren takes a step back. Did they knock on the wrong door? Big ears, stained sweats,Minnesota Vikings hoodie, body built like a muscular green bean. That’s Dan alright. 

“What the hell happened to you?”

“I’mb not much in the mood for goofin’ off today, kid,” He takes a long gurgling sniff followed by a cough. “I’mb sick”

“I can see that dummy,” Bren says, pushing past Dan into the drafty apartment “who’s taking care of you?” Dan shuts the door and rolls his eyes, only making his head pound harder.

“I amb. I was just in the middle of a nap when you cambe knocking” he gestures to their nonchalant stance. Maybe with some luck they’d get bored soon and go run off to find somebody else to pester.

“I could take care of you!” Bren beams “I bet I’d be better at it than you! Just let me try,” they bat their eyes a few times as if they didn't just undermine his competence.

“Aren’t there peeble your age you’d rather hang out with?” Dan groaned, rubbing his temples.

“You can go back to your nap. It’ll be like I'm not even here,” They pout. 

Dan thought he heard them mutter something else after that but brushes it off as gunk in his ears. He guessed it wouldn’t be so bad if they were quiet. Maybe he could send the plucky kid down to miss DeLaney’s for a sympathy casserole. Old people love precocious little shits like Bren.

“Ok… Ok fine! Just stop with the pound dog puppy eyes”

“Great! Do you have any cash?”

“Whad!? I wouldn’t habe agreed to this if I knew there’d be a fee, you brat!” Yelling only made Dan more dizzy. He sways over to the couch cautiously and plunks down, dislodging a harsh round of coughs. Bren waits for the hacking to let up before continuing.

“Just some stuff from the corner store for you!” 

Dan pulls the blanket from the back of the couch over himself and turns into the cushions, wearily out of breath.

“On my dresser, in my money clip. Qu’rters in th’...jar,'' he babbles, already feeling the sleep starting to pull him back in. The abrasive sound of Bren shaking out a handful of change makes Dan wince. At some point he feels his ankles being lifted so the blanket could be tucked around his feet, the door clicks shut and he’s out like a light.

Bren crept back into the apartment. Dan still curled in with his face squished against the inner corner of the armrest. A recipe for a nasty crick in the neck when he wakes up. They empty out the contents of the shopping bag on the counter quietly. A few juices, some mucinex and a Big Hunk for themself. They’ve earned it. Bren slips off their shoes and pads over to Dan. 

“DaaaAaaan? I got some goodies for ya.” They uncap the bottle of orange juice and pop a pill out of the blister pack “giddyup, sleeping beauty, take some medicine.” 

Dan squints one eye open, pushes up long enough to pop the pills and take them with a swig of juice before he's right back down, thankfully in a better position for his neck. Bren leaves the juice to the side for him loosely capped and goes to scavenge the kitchen.

“What does he live off of? Photosynthesis!?” Going through the fridge, Bren was able to salvage a half picked through rotisserie chicken, leftover takeout rice and a bag of frozen vegetable medley. His cupboards were nearly bare other than a few random piles of loose packets you get with said takeout. Soy sauce, parmesan and red pepper flakes, which could be good for congestion, Bren thought. Can’t forget the lone onion in a decorative bowl. “Wow...really goin all out, arentcha, Danny boy?” All in all, and with the help of his limited spice rack, Bren would be able to make a decent enough chicken and rice soup.

Dan stirs awake to the sound of a trashy VH1 show playing on TV and the faint smell of food wafting from the kitchen. He turns around with great effort to see Bren sitting on the floor by his feet, happily gnawing away at a slab of nougat. 

“It’s alive!” Dan scrunches his face and stretches, wiping more drool tracks off his cheek with his hoodie sleeve. 

“Wh’time’s it?”

“seven thirty-ish.”

“You jus’ been hangin’ around thad long?”

“Where else would I go?” They smile up at him, a twinkle of sadness behind their eyes. 

He has to admit, he feels bad for them sometimes. They’ve mentioned before how flakey their friends in this area  could be, and it seemed like their dad, Angelo, had stopped putting in the effort to take them out to do things while they were here on their visits. Some spring break.

Bren pops up and gives a very audible stretch. “You want some soup?” they ask, skipping to the kitchen.

“You went and bought soup?” Dan yawns, scratching at the stubble growing under his ears.

“Nope. Made it,” they chime, handing him a steaming bowl of hearty soup.

“Did you go grocery shopping or somethin’? How much did you take fromb my dresser?” 

“Like a twenty and some change!” Bren defends, “It was like fifteen bucks for the mucinex and like five for the two juices and I got a Big Hunk,” they protest “I just used what you had in your kitchen!” 

Dan stares back in his bowl, confused. Maybe he’s still in an elaborate fever dream.

“I had all this in my kitchen? You didn’t go dumpster diving or nuthin?”

“You really think I would feed you trash chowder when you were sick? Daniel, I'm hurt!” they gasp in mock 

surprise.

“Ok, ok. Just don’t say trash chowder again, makes me queasy”

“You make me queasy.” Dan smiles and gives Brens head a rough tousle.

“Thanks, shithead”

🍲🍲🍲

Saige ambles out of the bathroom, fit with borrowed clothes that weren't sandy or smell like the beach which included Dan’s old Vikings hoodie. The thick terry cloth hangs low on Saige’s lithe frame, cuffs frayed, string long gone. It is a good hoodie. Hold’s alotta memories. Come to think of it, probably a lotta bacteria too. Bren giggles and Dan tilts his head back to make a face at them. 

“Wha?”

“Nothin’… nah, nevermind.” 

Blondie sits up enough to open his arms to Saige who casts a reluctant glance to Dan before approaching the couch and letting himself become engulfed in Blondie’s embrace. Dan lets his head bonk back into Bren’s stomach as he flips the channel to some trashy VH1 show.

“Pick any gray hairs while you’re back there, would ya?” Bren can already spot a few but leaves them.

“No, those are your tinsel, you big ole christmas tree!” Dan snorts at the remark.

“You’ve always been a weird kid, you know that?” Bren stops to wrap their arms around Dan's neck in a loose hug and cranes their head forward to give the top of his- still salty from the beach- forehead a peck.

“I know.”

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@go-ahead-and-whump @deluxewhump @whumpthisway @gottalovethemwriters @cupcakes-and-pain @cabe-sherlock @whumpzone @lave-e @whumpsy-daisies @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpeesblog

[go-ahead-and-whump]

Saige Can't Swim

Surprise! Saige and Bren exist in the same universe as @go-ahead-and-whump Dan and Blondie. Yes there is back lore and history to Bren and Dan's friendship but for now we whump. Enjoy! 💕

CW: set in pet universe, mentions of past abuse and dehumanization, alcohol mentioned, drowning, water whump, emeto

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It would be difficult to say who was more excited to be at the beach. Saige, who had never seen the ocean and had no memories of any body of water bigger than a bathtub, or Blondie, born and raised in the warmth of the southern coast, destined for blue skies and sunshine. He and Dan had seen many great beaches in their travels. From the lighthouses in Cape Cod, to spotting the space needle from Alki beach, Dan had taken them to a beach in every corner of the country, including Tijuana.

Saige leans further into Blondie, his arm sliding against the glossy fabric of the rash guard Blondie wore to protect his sensitive scars from the sun. Saige knew the details of Clayton Miller as much as Blondie knew about the inner workings of The Ruby Wall. To the boys, their scars were shameful stories from their past that built doors between them and Bren and Dan. To each other their scars were as innocuous as freckles. Mear blemishes. They each held a key to each other's stories crafted from their own past experiences.

“It’s chilly today,” Blondie bristles against a gust of wind.

“It’s almost eighty degrees out,” Saige points out.

“You’re from the pacific northwest, though.” Saige isn’t quite sure what that meant and wilts a little bit at the realization.

“Does that mean we’re not going to go in?”

“No! We’ll still go in. We can explore the tide pools if it gets too cold but I want to show you how to find sand dollars.”

While the boys toe their way into the shallows, Dan and Bren finish setting up their spot on the beach. Bren pinches the front of their shirt and pulls it out to waft cool air into their face, sneering over at Dan in his neon orange work hoodie. Dan pulls a frosty beer out of the cooler for himself and tosses another Bren’s way.

“Head’s up.”

“I don't see how you can be wearing that. It's sweltering,” Bren groans. rolling the cold can over their neck and face.

“There's a breeze, Bren. You’ll be sorry you didn't bring anything after getting wet,” Dan nods to the boys, running in and out along the sand in a game of ‘avoid the waves’. Bren shrugs in a ‘could be’ motion knowing that they'll just end up stealing Dan’s hoodie if that becomes the case. Unbeknownst to them, that had been the exact reason Dan had brought it.

“You wanna shotgun? For old time sake?” Dan shoots Bren an unamused look but flips out his pocket knife all the same.

Blondie and Saige wade through waist deep water hand in hand, feeling around the ocean floor with their bare feet. 

“Do you feel those little lumps in the sand? Those are sand dollars!” Blondie pokes his head down into the water and pulls one up. “Go ahead, touch it.” He places the critter into Saige’s palm who startles as soon as the prickly texture touches his skin. They both laugh when Saige drops it back into the ocean with a soft plop.

"What's that? Do you see that one?" Saige points to a small shadow beneath the waves a couple yards away. Blondie's eyes light up and Saige feels a surge of pride that he was getting the hang of this 'beach' thing.

"Good eye! I'll get it." Blondie releases Saige's hand and dives under the water with a flourish to retrieve their unknown treasure.

He cuts easily through the cool waters, safe from the waves that roll overhead. Blondie opens his eyes for half a moment when he suspects he's over his target. He reaches down to pluck the vacant conch shell Saige so skillfully spotted. Blondie swishes the mollusk’s home once more beneath the water to dislodge any sand before surfacing, elated to give Saige his findings.

“Saige!’ Blondie sputters wiping water from his eyes in his inner elbow, “We have to show Dan this-”

“Blondie! GET OUT of the water!” Dan’s voice booms from the shore. He sounds angry. It takes half a second for Blondie to start hurdling out of the water and through the shallows. He looks around for Dan in a panic only to find Bren racing towards him with a strange look of horror and relief.

“Are you hurt?” they grab his wrists and look over his face. Blondie shakes his head no. He’s not hurt other than the feeling of his heart beating out of his chest. “What the fuck happened?” Bren asks between breaths. They try to even their voice to keep from coming off as accusatory but Blondie still flinches.

“We’re looking for shells! I was getting Saige a shell…” Blondie offers his empty shaking hands between them. No conch, No Saige. The realization hits him. He follows Brens line of sight out through the tides, past the shallows, and swears his heart stops beating altogether. “I only let go for a second.”

🐚🐚🐚

Dan had been trepidatiously drinking with Bren letting himself get a buzz going when he looked up to find neither boy in sight. The seconds that passed were unassuming like the cold shock one feels before a burn. A glimpse of a familiar face bobbing in the water was like a hot poker to the back and Dan was up and running.

He was halfway down the beach when Blondie resurfaced and he called for him to get back on shore. No one had mentioned anything about whether Saige was a strong swimmer, but Dan couldn’t put too much blame on anyone as he had assumed from his time with Blondie that he could handle it.

Saige can hardly make out flashes of the shore between getting swallowed by waves and the sting of the water in his eyes. His nose burns from the brine being forcefully washed down his throat. Saige claws and climbs to no avail. 

In all his life, at least the parts he remembers, there had always been something to grasp through the pain. Bars of a cage, a brick wall, the ledge of a bathtub, bedsheets, but here in the grips of the sea there is nothing but relentless and tireless strength. 

I’m going to die, he thinks, and after all the will and pain it took for him to kick his way out of his prison and find Bren only to be ripped away from his new life by some stupid waves of fate. He’s so tired and about to give up when he feels a structure brush his arm.

Already exhausted from the swim and dizzy from the deep, gasping breaths, Dan swears if he can get them out of this unharmed he’ll cut down on the smoking. 

Panicked, Saige tries to climb Dan as soon as he can reach him, pushing them both under. Knowing what he has to do to get Saige to stop, Dan grabs Saige, digging his fingers in enough to bruise and tosses him off. He repeats the action until he’s able to get Saige on his back to loop his arm around him like a seatbelt.

“Saige, kick. Just kick. I got you, kick for me,” he says, completely winded. 

Dan is able to drift on his back, using his free arm in a weak backstroke while Saige, whimpering and gulping, kicks more like he's trying to peddle a bike than propel them through the water. It’s better than nothing though. 

“Okay. Okay, we got this. Eyes up. Look at the sky. Keep kicking…just like that. Good boy.”

In their forced proximity Dan could already see hints of bruising form on Saige's ribs. Here's this kid who still acts terrified of him, unable to make eye contact or sit in a room alone together, clutching to Dan's arm like the lifeline it happens to be at the moment. The important thing is to get them back to safety. Saige can hate him again once they're on dry land.

Blondie and Bren run out to the knee deep water where Dan stumbles to, unsuccessfully, prop Saige to stand on his own jellied legs. He's able to hold his own for a second before a particularly mild wave hits the back of his thighs and sends a dizzy Saige careening forward onto his hands and knees.

"Shit- Saige?! Are you okay?" Bren runs to their boy and drops to their knees in front of him. 

Sober as a stone, any trace of a beach buzz long gone, Bren cups his chin gently trying to tilt his face up to look at them. Saige shakes his head in their grasp with no intention of pulling out of it. 

"What's wrong? What hurts, hunny?"

Dan slowly wades over and sets a hand between Saige's shuddering shoulders. 

"You gonna be sick?" 

Saige nods, rocking forward and back. Bren adjusts themself to support Saige’s weight from the side. His skinny arms wrap around his torso and with a garbled retch expels a stomach full of slimy clear fluid. 

Some of the bile skimming the surface  washes back over Bren's knees with the current. Either they don't notice or don't care as they encourage Saige to ‘get it all out’.

“There you go, Hon. I gotcha… We gotcha.” Bren looks up at Dan, eyes full of sorrow, and mouths a sincere and silent, ‘thank you’.

Even if they had looked up in time to see Saige get swept away they were nowhere as level headed as Dan and not nearly as strong of a swimmer. 

"Let's get you out of here. Get you dried off, how's that sound?"

Blondie stays out if the way, holding enough worry for the four of them. A hand over his mouth and an arm crossed over his chest, feeling sick with guilt and hoping he's not the next to empty his stomach.

Dan's heart aches for the boy slumped lifelessly over his shoulders, as he trudged them through the soft sand like it was an uphill battle. Saige is barely lucid. He notes the way Blondie hovers from a distance, all the blood drained from his face.

If a year ago someone had told Dan he’d turn into a softy that wanted nothing more than to roll these two boys up in bubble wrap to keep them from harm's way, he’d call them a bold faced liar. Bren could attest from their years of friendship his ‘walk it off, rub some dirt in it’ demeanor. For anyone to tell either of these boys to ‘suck it up’ now would be a one way ticket to the ICU in Dan’s book.

Once the bunch has made it back to their set up, Dan deposits Saige onto Bren’s beach blanket and into their awaiting arms and passes his discarded hoodie down to Bren for Saige then turns his attention back to his own anxious Blonde.

He leads Blondie over to their spot in the sand and offers Blondie his seat. Blondie shakes his head. He knows Dan is exhausted, and Dan knows better than to insist especially with the pleading look Blondie gives him. 

"He's alright. I'm alright. Everyone is fine. It's okay, Blondie," He soothes with a heavy sigh, “sit with me while we all find our bearings.” Dan reaches out to tuck loose hair, matted from the salt, behind his ear and Blondie leans into the touch, pushing his cheek into the cup of Dan’s palm.

“I only let go for a second,” Blondie rasps, trying to keep his own ocean from spilling over.

“I know, darlin’”

🐚🐚🐚

Bren runs their hands through Saige's hair, offering sips of water whenever he needs. It tastes almost sweet compared to the sodium assault his tongue had just experienced. 

He feels himself drift asleep for a moment, surrounded by Bren's warmth and grounding presence, but the adrenaline and anxiety comes in ebbs and flows like the sounds of the distant waves crashing on the shore. 

A sudden stomach cramp causes Saige to writhe in Bren’s lap. He wants to go back to the apartment, he wants to lay on cushions and tuck his feet into dry socks rather than digging his toes into the sand for warmth.

Blondie sat at Dan's feet, head resting on his thigh, arm wrapped around his calf. Under any other circumstance Dan would've told him he was pouting. He feels guilty. He shouldn't have left Saige alone, he should've done more to help, and to make it worse he couldn't even spare a glance Saige's way. Blondie was scared of facing Brens' rage, sure, but he didn't think he'd be able to live with himself being on the receiving end of Saige's disappointment.

“Blondie?”

Blondie’s head whips up to look at Dan out of instinct. His head is lolled back, eyes closed, taking deep steady breaths like he’s asleep. Blondie looks over to Bren, who gives him a gentle and pleading smile without an ounce of anger. He catches Saige’s eye for just a moment and has to look away. He hears the sound of the sand and towels shifting and Bren is crouched before him, hand hovering like they want to touch him, or asking to be touched.

“Can you sit with Saige while I start packing the truck?” 

The hand resting in Blondie’s hair starts moving again, he looks up to see Dan in the same position, silently encouraging him to move along. ‘I’m fine. Someone else needs you more right now’

Saige keeps looking at his best friend, weakly stretching his arms out for him hoping he’ll look up and notice. Unbeknownst to Blondie, Saige had been stewing on the same fears. Inconveniencing Dan, disappointing Blondie, ruining the day.

"'Londie?" Saige squeaks out. 

Blondie crawls over and pauses, glancing back at Bren. They aren't looking, and Saige's silent plea for him to come closer is more convincing to Blondie than the slight possibility of Bren's wrath. He scoots closer until Saige latches on to him, scrambling into his lap like he's the new lifeline. 

“Ow ,ow, ow.” the smaller blonde whimpers, letting his overworked muscles settle into his new position curled into Blondie’s apprehensive hold. 

Saige’s, previously, feather soft hair feels like straw against Blondie’s jaw. With Dan’s hoodie completely dwarfing him, and the smell of brine masking his usual sweetness. It was as if the sea had spit back someone completely different and it was all his fault, Blondie thinks, trying to formulate the right words to say. 

“Saige, I-” he starts, but is cut off by a broken sob. Saige’s body goes tense for a beat before the weeping rolls out.

“I lo-ost my balance. When I tried to s-stand there was no-uthing there,” he hitches and coughs, voice breaking under strain. Blondie is dumbfounded as Saige continues his plea “I didn’t try to swim away, I-I stayed put for you…I didn’ want this to hap-pen- ah,” Saige winces and wraps his arms around his torso. “I’m really so-orry, Blondie… could you tell Dan for me too?”

They'd known a world of cruelty at the hands of other people. Tied down, caged up, left to die. Now they face the real world with the support of people who care and it still tries to kill them. It was so unfair. Blondie didn't care who was to blame or who was angry, he was angry. Angry that Saige had the nerve to feel sorry at all.

"It's not your fault," Blondie mirrors the soft crooning words that always brought him warmth and safety in times of great uncertainty.

The two boys hold each other close as they sit together in the silence that speaks a language of its own between the two.

 I'm here, I’m here, I’m here.

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@go-ahead-and-whump @deluxewhump @whumpthisway @gottaloveteyana-blog @cupcakes-and-pain @whumpzone @lave-e @whumpsy-daisies @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi  @whumpeesblog

[go-ahead-and-whump]

I had a whump idea where you just put your whumpees finger in the straw hole of a lid... It pokie ☹️

[go-ahead-and-whump]

Blondies Bad Day

A lil FanFic I started yeeeaars ago for one of my favorite writers and very dear friend, Parsley 💕 @go-ahead-and-whump

CW: Set in the Pet universe, collars, food mention, emeto, humiliation, headache, poor boy is overstimulated

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They have to get up super early that morning. Not a rare occurrence, came with the job, and Blondie was used to it. But it was so early it might as well still have been the night before. Blondie was comfortable, settled into a bit of home life and didn’t want to get out of bed. He told himself he had to get up and help Dan who was gathering things around the house, getting ready for their next route, but every time Blondie tried he found his head lolling back into the warm pillow. “Come on. Up and attem’” Dan leaned down to place a peck on Blondie’s temple.

“I can help,” he croaked.

“No need. I got everything, we’re all ready to go.” Blondie frowned, upset that he had been so unhelpful. Dan thread his fingers through the blonde’s messy hair, scratching at the tender side of his head that he slept on. Blondie leaned into the touch, ready to fall forward into a warm embrace. “Do you want me to carry you?” Dan spoke into Blondie’s hair. He shook his head. No need to be any more of a lazy, spoiled pet than he already had been, he thought.

Blondie was able to catch another hour or two of sleep in the truck before waking up to a pink and orange sky painted with fluffy lilac clouds. The AC blowing directly on him made the end of his nose chilly. Dan glanced over and smiled “Good morning, sleeping beauty.” Blondie stretched, catching warmth of the golden light that was slowly spilling out from the horizon.

“G’morning”

“We’ll stop in a while to grab a quick breakfast and take a break. There might still be some coffee left in the thermos if you’d like.” 

Blondie liked coffee a lot sweeter than Dan drank his but took the offer anyway. Anything to chase the grogginess away. The last few gulps that were left were lukewarm and sour, making his throat feel even drier somehow. He wished he had something else to wash the taste out but remembered Dan saying that they’d be stopping soon. He could wait.

Dan tapped his fingers on the wheel to the beat of an old familiar song playing from the speakers. A CD made for him by a friend that he liked to play sometimes for a break from the radio. Blondie shifted to untuck the leg that was falling asleep from under him, accidentally yanking his hair on something in the process. He gathered the hair from the back of his neck and swept it over to the shoulder opposite from the seatbelt. Something was missing. Blondie racked his mind trying to think of what it was that felt so off. He lifted his fingers to his neck to repeat the same motion realizing almost instantly. His collar was missing.

If you hadn't been so useless this morning you wouldn't have done something as stupid as leaving your collar behind! Blondie chewed at his nail trying to come up with a way to tell Dan. What a disappointment. Making more trouble for your master who's already working overtime.

"Blondie? You ok?" Why did Dan have to be so good at reading him? Why did he have to look so obvious?

"I- uhm. I might have- uh.” Dan waited patiently as Blondie stumbled over his words, eyebrows raised in anticipation. There would be no way around it and there was no turning back. Best to rip the band-aid off now. Blondie swallowed thickly and held his breath “I forgot my collar!” He blurted. Dan glanced over quickly at Blondie’s bare neck, brows furrowed. Blondie braced himself for the reprimand.

“Hm. Seems we did. We’ll pick up a spare when we stop” Dan wasn’t upset but it didn’t convince Blondie. He kept rerunning that morning over and over in his mind. “Hey now, none of that. It’s alright,” Dan said, lightly tugging Blondie's hand away from his mouth. “We just got used to not having it on in the apartment s’all” Blondie couldn’t help but still pout, sinking down further into his seat.

When they finally stopped at a gas station, Blondie waited in the truck for Dan to return with breakfast, his only request being a small milk. The bitter film of old coffee still stuck in his mouth. The store looked small, windows plastered with sunbleached advertisements from a different decade. The kind of place that probably sold canned food that was older than he was, not the kind that would sell comfortable collars for pampered pets that could afford to forget theirs at home. It didn’t take long before Dan was back in the truck and unloading cold drinks into each of their cupholders. He happily plopped a white paper bag into Blondie’s lap. 

“Boston Creme. Last one they had. I made sure to snatch it up for you.” Blondie beamed at the gesture and Dan shot him a wink.

“And the...um...collar?” he asked timidly, eyeing the bag Dan was still unloading snacks and drinks from. Dan looked in the bottom of the bag and pursed his lips.

“They didn’t have a lot of options. I got what they had.” It didn’t matter to Blondie. He would take whatever he was given, but his face fell when he saw the neon collar Dan pulled from the bag. He passed it over to Blondie to take it out of the packaging. It was an obnoxious fluorescent orange and made from cheap nylon, the kind that dug into your skin when worn too snug, and chafed at your neck if worn too loose. It would’ve made a good collar for a hunting dog if it weren’t for the little green bell that hung from a key ring. “I’m sorry,” Dan groaned, “it’ll work as a spare for now.”

Blondie was right about the chaffing. Even on the loosest setting he was still getting poked by pieces of poorly fused plastic. At least he could still look forward to his doughnut.

...

The doughnut did not help. It was almost lunch time and he was still feeling the gurgly aftermath of the crusty, stale dough and congealed cream from that morning. Dan was still tapping away at the steering wheel to the beat of the music. It was playing just a bit too loud for Blondie who was trying to focus on breathing in through his mouth and out through his nose. A trick Dan had taught him about controlling motion sickness. You're not car sick. It's just the food. He repeated to himself. The food Dan got you. The food you're grateful for...The food that got you sick.

Blondie tried to breathe in time with Dan’s tapping, thinking maybe he could use it to help. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. Don’t look too obvious. It helped for about a minute, until his head started pounding with the rhythm. Unknowingly clenching his jaw for so long that had manifested into a tension headache in his temples and behind his ears. 

“You feeling okay?” Blondie relaxed his face at the sound of Dan’s voice. He had lost track of how long he had been counting. 

“Mhm,” He nodded with a weak smile. Dan didn’t look satisfied with the half baked lie making Blondie’s heart hammer against his chest. Dan would want him to say if he was feeling unwell and he’d just lied straight to his master. Another thing to add to his ever growing list of adjectives. Lazy, spoiled, useless, ungrateful, lying-

“I think we should take a break anyway. There’s a station coming up soon, you can stretch your legs.”

“Okay” Blondie tried to sound aloof, when in reality he felt like crawling out of his own skin.

By the time Dan rolled into the stop, Blondie’s cool facade had faded into anxious fidgeting. Finally, he thought, pushing the door open to a burst of fresh air. Blondie stepped out onto the stair of the truck and miserably observed the oily puddle Dan had parked in that he was going to have to jump over. Must be a gutter drain clogged with trash somewhere. 

A small misstep, some yanked hair, a lost grip and Dan is jogging around the tractor to inspect the loud ‘Oouf’ that came from the other side of the cab. “Blondie? Are you?- oh, honey.” Dan frowns. Blondie props himself up on shaky arms, huffing murky water out of his nostrils, eyes squeezed shut. Dan helped him stand and led him to a patch of grass in front of the truck. Gray droplets drip off Blondie’s eyelashes, mixing with the tears streaming down his face, humiliation so palpable he can feel it buzzing in his teeth. 

“Are you okay?” Dan asks, squeezing his shoulder. He shakes his head. “Did you get hurt?” Blondie shakes his head again harder, agitating his headache even more. “Then what is it, sweetheart?” Blondie can’t even look at Dan, he stares at the space between their shoes for a moment, the smell of the stale water drowning his senses. 

“W-why did you park over the pu-ddle?” He squeaks from under his hair. Dan crouches trying to get a better look at Blondie’s face.

“Come on, I didn’t see the puddle, hon. I didn’t know that-” Blondie shudders under his masters grip and Dan is cut off by a loud retch. “Okay, alright, let it out,” Dan gathered the sticky blonde locks away from Blondie's face and rubbed his back until the gagging stopped and was replaced with soft sobs. Blondie stares down at the foamy remnants of his breakfast. Useless, dirty, lazy, spoiled, ungrateful- “C’mon baby, let’s go get you cleaned up.” Dan shuffled Blondie into the station and planted him at the door mat. “Stay right here I’m gonna pay for a shower stall”

The gas station is empty for the most part. The only other person Dan can see is the young woman standing behind the register with her phone in her hands. She looks up when Dan approaches the counter and flashes a kind smile.

“Hel-lo!” she sing-songs “What can I do you for?””

Dan glanced back at Blondie who stood on the entrance mat looking around miserably, trying not to draw attention to himself. Fishing his wallet from his back pocket, Dan pulls out his credit card and slides it across the table. “We’ll need a stall if you’ve got one available.”

The girl’s eyes flick back at the entrance. Giving Blondie a sympathetic once over she opens a drawer, pulling out a key with a small fob on the chain. “Don’t worry about it,” She winks, sliding Dan’s card back across the counter. “I’ll ring you out once you’re done. The shower is down to your left right next to the restrooms. We’ve only got one stall that’s working right now.” She grimaces “the water pressure’s shit, but it’s better than a spit bath in a sink.”

Dan thanks the gas station attendant and slides his card back into his pocket before he takes the key from the counter and turns back to Blondie.

“Alright, come on.”

Blondie dripped muddy water all the way to the shower room, with his head hung low, tears still stinging his eyes. The bathroom is small compared to the ones he and Dan have shared before. The flicker of the light was slightly delayed after Dan flipped the switch, a loud, buzzing fan at the top of the room hummed to life a moment afterwards. It was dim with a low rising ceiling and a concrete floor, a single drain off centered to the right side of the room where the ‘stall’ was. The shower itself is only set apart from the rest of the room by a single standing dividing wall and a cheap plastic curtain that had turned a slightly grayish color over time. 

Dan ushered Blondie inside. The air was damp and stale, smelling faintly of cleaning solution and mildew. While Blondie undressed, peeling the wet clothes from his body, Dan poked a hand into the shower to find the faucet. The shower head squeals as the pressure builds and a weak stream sputters out a few times before kicking in completely. 

“She was right,” Dan mumbled as he stuck his hand under the showerhead to check the temperature, “this is hardly a mist.”

The fan sucks any lingering warmth from the room, and the cement floor is an unwelcoming kind of cold that reminds Blondie of the showers from the shelter before Dan. At least this time the top layer of skin won't be completely scrubbed from his body by facility handlers.

“Alright, I think this should be a good temperature. You wanna check and make sure?” Blondie awkwardly sticks his hand into the shower. For once, it’s a little bit cooler than he’d been hoping for, but he doesn’t feel like asking Dan to change it.

"Mhmm."

Dan steps out of the way and returns to the pile of clothes on the floor, stuffing them into the bag of toiletries he brought with. Blondie stands under the lousy spray of water, still feeling choked up but holding back his tears. You’ve embarrassed your master. Ungrateful lousy brat-

“Blondie?” Dan called over the hiss of water, “want me to wash your hair for you, baby?” His voice is gentle and inviting without a hint of disappointment causing the final straw to break somewhere inside of Blondie. His face twisted in anguish as a river of snot and tears ran off his face and swirled down the drain with the rest of the murky water.

“Ye-es p-please,” Blondie gasped through choked sobs. Dan massages Blondie's scalp with his blunt nails, helps him rinse and wraps him in a towel that still smelled like home laundry.

“Blondie, I need you to know that you're not in trouble but we’ve got to have a talk about what happened. What's got you so upset?” Blondie’s stomach churns, though its contents are long expelled. His throat tightens under the overwhelming pressure of humiliation. He takes a hitching gasp. “Breathe..” Dan instructs before Blondie can start whimpering his response.

“I-” he wondered if he should start with oversleeping, forgetting his collar, the doughnut, the puddle “I-” he tries to start again. He couldn’t place blame on one particular thing that had warranted his breakdown; he just… he just… “I’m just having such a bad da-a-ay,” he wept into his hands that smelled like the pink almond soap from the wall dispenser that all rest stops and gas stations have. “I overslept, forgot my collar, and the doughnut…”

“The doughnut?”

“It was old.” Dan sighs and Blondie wants to curl in on himself and disappear, but a pair arms pull him into a warm embrace. 

“It’s not your fault,” Dan murmured into still damp hair, “none of that’s your fault. I wanted to let you sleep in. You probably would’ve remembered your collar if I hadn't dragged you out of bed at the last minute.” Blondie presses his cheek further into Dan’s body inhaling the smell of coffee and aftershave and cigarettes. “And the doughnut. I'm so sorry about that, sweetie, that place was pretty dodgy,” he groans, though Blondie’s intention was never to make Dan blame himself. He pulls back from the hug to wipe his eyes and look at Dan.

“I’m sorry.” Dan smiles and gives his Blondie’s a peck on the temple the same as he had that morning.

"Don't even start. I'm going to bring you some fresh clothes and then get you some fresh food. Meet me at the checkout when you're done, alright?"

"Alright," Blondie blushes, already feeling happier than he had all day.

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@morelikepainsley this but it’s when our oc’s whump/caretake one another

posted a banger tweet and thought that tumblr deserved to see it too

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So uh….would anyone be interested in reading a Whumper!Dan AU in which Dan is a serial killer? Asking for a friend….

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@go-ahead-and-whump - Blondie 💙

Tumblr is letting me post images again! I've been quiet for a while due to tumblr app being dumb.

Enjoy an art process post :) click on individual images to stop this app ruining the quality and my life

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I still think about this fan art. It makes me so happy. It’s literally him.

@go-ahead-and-whump - Blondie

Click images for better quality 💙 love this fic, I haven't read the latest updates but I certainly will be as this writing is amazing and I love the characters!

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Just wanted to say Dan has my heart

Oh my god, I'm sorry I'm getting to this like 7 years after you sent it, but thank you so much. I really love Dan. He is one of my most treasured ocs. It makes me so happy that other people enjoy reading about him too

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I'll say it again on Tumblr dot com. I want Max to make him faint ☹

and you're so right, Pais

Vampire drinks from human pet until he passes out

cw: vampire whumper, blood, blood drinking, it as a pronoun intermittently, human whumpee, pet whumpee, drugging, fainting, bloodloss, creepy comfort, intimate whumper,

-

There was a fire going in the hearth, and Carlo couldn’t stop watching it. The flames seemed to undulate, licking the logs in their iron cradle.

The Vampire handed him a glass. “Drink just a little more for me, please.”

He took it in both hands. He was afraid to drop it, to watch it shatter on the walnut-stained floor of the upstairs library. He didn’t know what the Vampire would do to him if he did.

The pills he’d been given were already taking effect. He’d been terrified of them, the first time. But they only made his face warm and rendered his fear dull at the edges.

He smiled dopily at the Vampire, who smiled back without showing teeth. He took another drink of sweetened cider, spiced with cinnamon. For your strength, the Vampire had said the first time, in response to Carlo’s hesitancy. Did the others not give you something to keep your strength up?

They had not. But they also never cleaned the puncture wounds left by their teeth after biting him, never dressed the area in clean bandages and reminded him to eat something soon.

The Vampire took back the cup, set it aside. “Will you come closer?”

He scooted over, though his every instinct always told him to pull away from these creatures as they neared him, with their cold eyes and their alarmingly unyielding bodies. In a mild haze, he lifted his left wrist for this new Vampire who he’d been given to as a housewarming gift.

“Glad you’re in town again,” Erik had said. “This one’s a little worse for wear by now, but he always tastes good. Are you certain I can’t offer you a fresher bite?”

But this Vampire had already taken a liking to him, and took him home.

“The other hand,” the Vampire said to Carlo gently. “This one needs a few more days to heal, yet.”

Carlo dropped his hand awkwardly, pivoting his body to more easily offer the right wrist. Usually they grabbed, took, demanded. This one made him offer the limb freely, like climbing onto his own gallows.

“Thank you,” the Vampire said politely, never taking those cold eyes off him. It raised his vulnerable wrist to its mouth, barely grazing the skin with its lips. Carlo swallowed, too drowsy from the drug to do anything but watch through half-lidded eyes.

The Vampire trailed further down his wrist, holding Carlo’s hand aloft and pressing its lips to the tender, meaty part of his thumb. Here. Cold eyes lifted again to watch its prey. As it’s mouth opened, Carlo’s mouth parted in a soft gasp, watching the ritual in a way he never had when it was quick and violent.

The puncture surprised him with its delicacy, its deadly potency. It was like being pierced with twin needles, sliding in like an IV. The pain cut right through the valium haze, breaking its spell for a moment and filling him with the same mortal dread he’d felt a hundred times.

Instinctively, he tried to draw away. The Vampire’s grip was immoveable, a vice, cold and hard as iron. It did not care for his pitiful struggles. He whimpered, steeled himself. It did not hurt very much after all, not compared to the violent bites and hard pull of other Vampire’s he’d felt, like being bitten by wild animals. There was something horrifically civilized to this. He took a deep breath, heart pounding in his ears as the Vampire took, and took. If it kept on taking, he knew he would die. He could only wonder if it liked him the way Erik had, if it would want to keep him alive to do this again and again.

The dizziness expanded like pouring water, and suddenly he had no up or down, no floor or roof. His legs were numb, and gauzy blackflies flickered in the corners of his vision. It was not a place he could climb out of. It opened up like a chasm, and still the pain in his hand told him it had not ended.

-

He coud feel his legs again. Pins and needles, like static buzzing. A small roll of nausea. The pain in his hand was faint and pulsing. Still no up or down to be found— the world had no ceiling.

“Easy, little one. Not too fast.”

A hand cupped his cheek. Inhuman. Powerful. “Don’t be afraid. You’re alright.”

He’d passed out, he realized with a fresh wave of terror. That could not be good. He should not have done that. His eyes flew open, but the Vampire only looked at him gently, as if charmed.

“There you are,” he said, stroking Carlo’s hair from his forehead in a gesture so human it made his mortal heart flutter. “I’m sorry. I may have gotten a touch overzealous. Squeeze my hand if you can understand me.”

His limbs felt weak, but he tried, and the Vampire seemed satisfied. “Poor thing,” he said with a mixture of pity and amusement. "We’ll have to be more careful with you next time, won’t we?"

Carlo wrapped his arms around the Vampire’s neck, turning his face into its monstrous shoulder. As bad as it was when one was trying to hurt him, it felt good to hide in the arms of such a powerful creature. His heart pounded wildly and his hand throbbed.

The Vampire hummed in sympathy, stroked Carlo's dark hair with utmost tenderness.

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Just popping in for a whump suggestion if anyone is looking for one (and is also into Star Wars) The Wrath if Darth Maul is very whumpy but a fair warning: it is not for the faint of heart.

The book dives into Darth Maul’s absolutely tragic childhood, and it is very hard to read some times. Maul’s torture and abuse begins when he is still very much a toddler at age three.

It’s not specifically a whump book, it’s not a hurt/comfort book, and it is deeply heartbreaking and uncomfortable to read at many times. There isnt much of a happy ending, but if you like Star Wars and you love Maul, like I do, I would consider giving it a read because it adds so much more depth to his character.

^a picture of this beautiful man as well in case anyone needs to be reminded

I’m sorry I’ll keep my Star Wars garbage on my main blog, don’t mind me, just through I should drop some info in case anyone wanted it.

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if anakin had had a pink lightsaber hilt with little charms hanging off of it he would have been okay

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I know you haven’t posted in a while but if you do post anything else about blonde I’d love to be added to the tag list! I just found the story and i can see why it stuck with that anon! Also I just want to say that I hope you’re doing ok, and if you’re feeling discouraged to please remember that even just staying alive is a feat you have accomplished

I’m glad so many people have found my Blondie and Dan over the past few days. If I do decide to update again sometime I can tag you, although I might have to restart the tag list, or I’ll just remove it in general just because I’m not sure how many people would still be interested

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I do 😩🙋‍♀️ I remember Riley 😍

Remember Riley?

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Okay OKAY IM BARELY ABLE TO CONTAIN MY EXCITEMENT OMG OMG OMG I FINALLY FOUND YOU. This is the same anon that was trying to find your story and you reblogged it from @deluxewhump and OMFG I READ YOUR STORY SO LONG AGO AND I COULDN'T FIND IT FOR SOME REASON AND ITS BEEN ON MY MIND FOREVER. RANDOMLY YOUR STORY JUST POPPED IN MY HEAD. LIKE I HAVEN'T RE READ IT YET BECAUSE OF HOW EXCITED I AM TO FIND IT BUT I REMEMBER THAT PART VIVIDLY WHERE ITS NIGHT AND BLONDIE IS SLEEPING ON THE COUCH IN TJE LIVING ROOM AND HE CAN'T SLEEP SO HE COMES TO THE BALCONY AND SO DOES DAN AND THEY TALK AND THEN BLONDIE SLEEPS WITH DAN IN THEIR BEDROOM IT WAS SUCH A FUCKING VIBE I REMEMBER READING IT AT 2 IN THE NIGHT. I got carried away with the caps pls don't hate me i love you sm

😭😭 You are so kind!!! Ahh! Thank you so much. I’m glad you found me! My blog has been inactive for a while now so I’m not surprised it was hard to find my fic but I still have some stories of Dan and Blondie that would be nice to post someday. For now though, I hope you enjoy rereading what is posted 🥰

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This warms my heart. I haven’t been on this blog in such a long time but to know someone is thinking about my story makes me so happy.

I've been trying to find this fic FOREVER in which the caretaker is a guy who drives a truck around and he gets a slave? i think to keep him company. It has all these parts. One of them was about this woman accidentally peper spraying the slave boy, and another about them going to a restaurant and being asked to leave. If you know the fic im PLEASE lemme know I'll be forever grateful, or any one in the followers know, they could comment it maybe? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE its been on my mind for so long and i think i discovered the Carlo story from you after reading that which is why i thought you might know.

Why thats Dan and Blondie by @go-ahead-and-whump !