#SO PLAY IT OUT IM WIDE AWAKE ITS A SCENE ABOUT ME

[bulletsgirl]

ppl who werent changed forever by youre gonna go far kid by the offspring when they were like 11 and insanely impressionable you just cant understand me

[wheretheharekissesthefox]

Magic Touch

Astarion and Gale get frisky again after weeks of only chaste kisses. The wizard conjures a mage hand for 'assistance'. The vampire spawn approves.

(Trigger warning (18+): graphic description of sex, smut, body worship, cum eating, frottage, hand job, (im)proper use of mage hand)

Notes:

The title's based on Gale's voice line "I have the magic touch".

To avoid confusion: In one of my other fanfics Halsin and Tav had named the owlbear cup Naïlo, which means 'night breeze' in the Elven language.

According to DnD lore, elves don't sleep, but rest in a meditative, trance-like state called reverie. You can see Astarion (and your Elven Tav) do exactly that in camp during a long rest when a sleep-around-the-campfire cutscene plays.

Also: Happy new year, everyone! May your 2024 be prosperous and filled with happiness, good health and good fortune. <3 Here's to a great start ;)

Gale had fallen asleep in his study again, halfway lying on the bed in the corner, surrounded by his students' essays. Astarion smiled at the scene. Carefully and light-footed, he stacked the papers and books, placed them on the desk, lifted Gale's legs up onto the bed, and covered him with a blanket. The wizard sighed in his sleep, but didn't wake. After one last glance, Astarion extinguished all the candles and made his way to the living room where the animals dwelled. Blearily, Scratch and Naïlo blinked at him.

"Hey, boys, would you like to join me on a walk?" Astarion whispered.

The dog yawned and placed his head back on his paws, but the owlbear chirped excitedly. The vampire spawn snickered.

"Well then... come on, my feathery friend."

"Good luck on your hunt, Mister Ancunin," purred Tara sleepily.

"Thanks, my sweet."

Naïlo was fully-grown now, barely fitting through the wide doorframes in Gale's tower house. They'd talked to him multiple times about freedom, but the owlbear refused to leave the place he called home. He had no desire to go out into the wilderness by himself and wished to stay with them. Of course, they allowed it and couldn't deny Naïlo anything. No matter how big, he would always be their little cub.

Astarion had started to go hunting in the woods with him. It was fun to run for hours without stopping and watching the owlbear kill their prey efficiently and quickly. Today was no different. The vampire spawn sprinted through the forest next to a hyped-up owlbear and there was no need for him to slow down. Suddenly, Naïlo came to an abrupt halt, staring to their right. Astarion sniffed the air. A bear. With a wide grin that showed his fangs, he nodded and made a hand gesture towards their prey. The owlbear pounced, slaying the bear with one big swipe of his sharp claws. Roaring, their prey collapsed and died. Astarion heard its heart stop. With a questioning chirp, Naïlo turned around to look at him.

"Well done, pup," the vampire spawn praised.

He slinked closer, kneeled, and drove his fangs into the still warm corpse. Astarion drew back when he felt drunk. As soon as he'd stepped away, Naïlo started to eat with gusto. The vampire spawn watched, pleasantly intoxicated, his vision slightly blurred. Lazily, he licked his mouth and chin clean until the owlbear's belly was full. Then, they slowly made their way back to Waterdeep, content and sated.

At home, Naïlo curled around Scratch and Tara and fell asleep immediately. Astarion, on the other hand, freshened up in the bathroom before checking on everyone. Tav and Shadowheart were sleeping soundly, back to back, and he didn't want to disturb them. He planned to quickly take a look at Gale before making his way downstairs to his basement room, but found the wizard awake with a cup of tea balanced on his knees.

"Thank you for covering me with the blanket," Gale smiled. "I appreciate it."

"You're welcome, darling. Everything alright?"

"Yes, just..." The wizard sighed, rubbing his strained eyes. "There's so much paperwork and some of the pupils have awful handwriting."

Astarion chuckled, finally fully entering the study, and sat down next to his lover.

"Would you like my help? I don't know much about the Applied Arts, but I'm rather talented at reading ancient languages. I'm sure I can figure out your pupils' messy writing."

Gale smiled at him softly.

"Thank you, dear. I might take you up on your offer tomorrow." He sipped on his teacup. "How was tonight's hunt?"

"Good. I had a bear," Astarion grinned, leaning against the wizard's shoulder. "I went into the woods with Naïlo."

"Aah, I see. Lovely."

"Bears always get me drunk. I don't know why. – I'm sure you could figure it out. You're a genius after all."

Astarion slumped closer, with a drunken giggle. Gale snorted an amused laugh.

"Look at you. You're an intoxicated mess."

"Mhm."

Astarion grinned at him before sitting up straight and smashing their lips together. Gale gasped in surprise.

"Mind the tea!"

"Sure," slurred the vampire spawn, took the teacup from the wizard and placed it on the floor next to a stack of specialist literature. "May I kiss you again?"

"Yes."

They fell into each other's arms, tongue kissing sloppily.

They'd settled into an easy dynamic regarding their relationship. They were rarely sexually intimate, mostly just kissing and snuggling. They were both content and happy with their arrangement and usually didn't need more. Usually. But not tonight.

Astarion slid his hands up the side of Gale's neck hungrily, running his fingers through the long, dark mane.

"I can see even more grey hair than when we first met," he noted. "It suits you. You're beautiful."

"So are you," panted the wizard.

"It's a good thing you're not at risk of spontaneously combusting anymore because of too much excitement. It would be a shame to lose a perfectly good Gale Dekarios, renowned wizard of Waterdeep, and professor at the Blackstaff Academy for Applied Magic Arts."

Gale's laugh was swallowed by Astarion's greedy mouth and the latter humped against the wizard's thigh.

"I need more," the vampire spawn moaned. "Please?"

"Yes."

Frenzied, Astarion doffed his clothes, exposing his pale skin and proudly standing erection. He bored his ruby-red eyes into the wizard, pleading.

"Come here," Gale offered, opening his arms.

Astarion plucked at Gale's shirt.

"Take your clothes off."

"No."

"But I want to –"

"Let me take care of you, Astarion. Come here. Lean your back against my chest."

The addressed complied, placing his head on Gale's shoulder and spreading his legs wide for him to see.

"Beautiful," the wizard whispered into his ear as he watched the plane of Astarion's body from behind him. The vampire spawn moaned lowly and pushed himself closer to the warmth of his lover. Gale kissed his cheek and recited a magic spell, conjuring a mage hand. It finally clicked in Astarion's still slightly intoxicated head.

"Oh," he breathed.

"Yeah." Astarion could literally hear Gale's smug grin in the way he responded. "Now, relax, dear, and let me work my magic."

The vampire spawn gasped when the mage hand wrapped its fingers around his member. There was resistance, almost like a real hand, and it was about the same temperature as his cold, undead body. Gale shushed him quietly and started running his hands over Astarion's chest. The latter moaned at the heat of them. Such a stark contrast to the mage hand and his own body. Gale let his hands wander further down, exploring his lovers abdomen, dipping his thumb into his navel, and brushing fingers over the naturally hairless pubic bone. Astarion's hips bucked up at the touch and he started to pant.

"So lovely for me," Gale praised, whispering right into Astarion's ear. The latter whined, shuddering as the wizard's hot breath ghosted over his neck. Gale kissed his ear, licking along the shell with his hot tongue, and Astarion moaned and started to drool. The conjured hand steadily stripped his cock with a comfortable grip while Gale's hands caressed his chest and abdomen lazily. Astarion shuddered as he felt the wizard's hot breath hit the shell of his ear again and his erection rub up and down his lower back. The vampire spawn tightened his grip on his lover's knees.

"Gale," he moaned, lolling his head against the other man's shoulder. "Gale... please..."

He was so close, but something was missing and he didn't know what. The wizard hummed, licking Astarion's pointy ear, and with a wail, the latter came undone. His seeds shot over the mage hand and his own gaunt belly. Astarion's legs shook, his hips gave little aborted thrusts, and his ruby-red eyes were still screwed shut. Gale tightened his grip on his lover's chest and abdomen, pressing him closer to himself, and rutted against his back until he climaxed. Astarion shivered when Gale's hot breath puffed against his neck and he felt the wizard's seeds wetting his tailbone as they seeped through the underpants. Groaning, the vampire spawn slumped against the hot body behind him.

"Gods...."

He moaned gutturally when Gale dipped his fingers into the sticky mess on his stomach and brought them up to lick it off. The wizard made a face.

"I wager I'll never acquire a taste for the male release. But it could be worse I guess..."

Astarion hummed and sucked Gale's fingers into his mouth. The wizard's breath hitched and the vampire spawn coiled his skilled tongue around the digits.

"You'll be the death of me," muttered Gale and when Astarion finally let go of his fingers, he shifted his lover sideways to kiss him better. Moaning, the vampire spawn tangled his hands in Gale's hair, kissing back as good as he could, still basking in the afterglow of his orgasm. Gale scooped up some more semen and licked it off while staring right at Astarion who make an undignified noise as he watched. Carefully, the latter slid his hand into Gale's underwear, toying with his spent member. The wizard hissed in discomfort, still too sensitive to be touched. Astarion retracted his hand, now sticky with cum, and licked it clean. Gale stared at him, wide-eyed and in disbelief.

"By the Gods," he groaned before pulling the vampire spawn into another kiss.

Astarion sighed into it, utterly content and sated. They finally broke apart and lay down, closely entangled.

"That was amazing, darling," Astarion purred. "I couldn't even return the favour."

"Hmm," muttered Gale, already half-asleep.

The vampire spawn petted his hair and promised: "Next time, I'll be the one wielding around the mage hand."

"Mhm," Gale mumbled smiling.

Astarion watched over him as he fell into an exhausted sleep. The wizard truly needed to be fully rested to survive his cheeky students at the academy. The vampire spawn placed a gentle kiss on Gale's greying hair and slipped into reverie.

[pinkseas]

[parasocial bestie] GOOD MORNIGNG BESTIEE I HOPE U HAD A NICE REST AND SLEEBP if not i kick the exhaustion away beats it to the ground in a pulp yuou will nawt. tire my bestie ever again ANYWAY i hope youll have a nice day too 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 i was writing sumn but the thought was like a week old amd im just clenching my fist shaking unable to get back to that lil cathartic moment so i can Have That Feel i was jusgt THINKGING just cryign for xiao and zl right now yes that was the thoght i coulda flood u the them then i flood u the lumine i wusz thinking again about her and functional pants. god the makeover idea is such a game changer to me like YKNOWWWWW <- writhing screaming on the floor cannot sort out their thoughts well rm but still wanna greet the bestie euutjahehfikshfhehfh

ABOUT UR BIG FIC PROGRESS ITS OK ASF youre still going great YOU REACHED THE 45K MILESTONE and stretching it more which is shtill ok!!! with me and work things do trail outta ur mind a lot on things u Want to think about yknow cus priorities :((( like i wanna stay there and just dream abt my blorbos and have the same scene looping in my head on repeat 738374 times a day..... thinking like 30 mins straight of the same idea and going ehe what does bestie think abt this its so messy i shud get it well constructed so i can write more walls of text for them HEHE and i MISS THATTTT MY BRAIN IS SO NON FUNCTIONAL RN THE ASK I WANNA WRITE TO U IS SITTIN THERE UNFINISHED. LIKE I WANNA LAY A WHOLE TUB OF WATER OF FAMILIAL XIAO ZHOGNLI TO U SO BAD RN and a side of pants lmi agenda flushed emoji flushed emoji like yknow............

U CAUGHT ME AS IM WORKING ON THE FIC >:))))))) i was soooooo skull emoji last night and now i am awake and SO DETERMINED !!!!!!! to at least get these last couple of scenes figured out im so srs i am GOING to have every scene at least partially written by the end of the day today i can feel it. 8 hour shift is nothing but a tiny interruption it is like childs play to me just another obstacle in the way of my beautiful beautiful xiaolumi.

I DID SLEEP WELL THANK UUUUUUUUUUUUUUU and i am also still tired so i very much appreciate the exhaustion being beaten to death ily so bad that made me giggle sm I HOPE UR DAY TODAY WAS WONDERFUL AND I HOPE UR ABLE TO GET SOME GOOD SLEEP SOON <3333333333333333333

100% understand the feeling of having like that Moment that Specific Feeling And Emotion while writing smth and sometimes pausing or needing to come back to it and then the emotion isnt rly as there and its so hard to capture again i LOVE when inspiration strikes at those moments but i hate having to finish it later :sob:

U CAN ALWAYS FLOOD ME W/ ANYTHING AT ALL EVER eyes and ears so wide open all the time always and YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS THE MAKEOVER the fact that there's just ENDLESS potential for her style and what she would or wouldnt like and then fighty stuff vs comfort stuff vs casual stuff smnfmfngmnfbmnb dies. dies. lumi <33333333333

I ABSO9LUTELY GETR THAT TOO us when our brains are so good at being nonfunctional its okay it will return in due time and then.... then i will get the whole tub of water then i will get the side of pants lumi agenda and it will be so wonderful and glorious i have no doubt whatsoever

[withcreamandsugar]

Heat Wave | Jo Yuri

🍨 details: bratty/subby Yuri x (m) reader smut? sign me up  😩 

🍨 word count: ~2.5k

🍨 a/n: this legitimately took me like 5 months to write and im still not that satisfied why are smut scenes so hard (pun not intended) to get right omg

"Y/N-ah... oh fffu...Y/N-ah..."

Your eyes groggily flicker open, opening wide at the sight in front of you.

Your friend since middle school, Jo Yuri, her sheer pink top desperately hanging off one shoulder and panties around one leg as she grinded her folds against the bulge restrained by your underwear. You felt a distinct dampness welling below, whether it was from you or her, it wasn't certain. Yuri quickened her pace, made possible by the puddle forming over your underwear. Yuri began to buckle out of sheer pleasure, suddenly crossing her arms over you and holding on for dear life. Despite her overwhelming feelings of stimulation and pleasure, Yuri's pace hadn't even begun to let up.

"Yuri... I... I'm close... I think i'm gonna..."

Poke.

"Do it! Ruin your boxers for me! Mmmf oh fu..."

Poke.

"Y/N... Y/N... Y/N!"

Your hand slapped at the finger poking your cheek, jolting you awake.

"Y/N-ah, you're out of popsicles! Go buy more!"

You groggily open your eyes for the second time that morning to see Jo Yuri, your ever-annoying childhood friend, playing video games on your TV. After confirming you were awake, Yuri leapt up and plopped back down at her nest of popsicle sticks and wrappers, picking back up her controller and unpausing the game - the volume exceedingly loud and giving you a headache. A second headache that is; the first one is currently killing zombies on your living room floor right now.

You had been having these uncharacteristic (to say the least) dreams about Yuri recently. It was strange, you had never looked at her in that light until these dreams had started. You couldn't understand why; to you, the girl sitting on popsicle trash mimicked a fat dragon sitting on its stash of gold.

"Aish, I died. Y/N, what are you doing? Popsicle time!" Yuri motioned circles with her fingers, signaling you to hurry up.

You got up from bed and stumbled over to the girl, towering over. Yuri looks up at you and gives a disingenuous, mischievous smile. You angrily pinch her cheek, making her wince and groan in the process.

"What do we say, Yuri-ah?"

"Oww... the strawberry... get the strawberry flavor..."

You pinch even harder.

"Ahn! Please! Strawberry please!"

"That's more I like it. I have an errand to do, so I'll be back in 2 hours."

Yuri massages her now violated cheek. "2 hours?! It's 90 degrees out I need those popsicles!"

You toss on some sandals and open the door to leave, but not before yelling as the door closes, "Then get them yourself, dummy!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hm, I guess they're closed on Saturdays. Guess that brat'll get her popsicles an hour and a half early."

You trudge home, having practically sweat through your entire shirt in the 30 minutes you were outside. You wanted nothing more than to take a cold shower in the comfort of your own home, so you quicken your pace.

"Yuri-ah, delivery."

No response. Huh, maybe she went out after all, you think to yourself.

You kick off your shorts and sandals and throw off your shirt, content with being alone for what seemed like the first time in months. You head straight for the shower, opening the door without a second thought.

In front of you stands a fresh out of the shower Yuri, one hand holding a towel over her lady parts and the other attempting (and only partially succeeding) to hide her petite breasts.

Not a word was uttered between you for what seemed an eternity, even when Yuri forcefully shoved you out and slammed the door in your face. You're somewhat glad she did, the sight of the scene and the thought back to the dream you had this morning started to cause a swelling in your pants. You lightly slap your cheeks with both hands, hoping some blood would rush to your other head instead.

A few minutes later Yuri pops out in an oversized t-shirt, hair still wet from the shower. She looks at you, then the box of popsicles on the counter. Still without a word, she swipes two bars and rips one open before plopping down at her gamer nest once again.

An awkward silence fills the room, before Yuri clears her throat, attempting to acknowledge the elephant in the room.

"Y-you know, people usually pay to see that."

"H-huh?" you mutter, startled by the broken silence.

Yuri takes one look at your flushed face, almost reinvigorating her brat-like energy. A mischievous smile appears on her face as she turns around, flat on her stomach still facing the TV.

"Cat got your tongue? Understandable, after seeing a body of my caliber~" Yuri jeers, kicking her legs in the air in the process. The girl was still wearing shorts under her oversized tee, but the majority of her lower half - particularly her plump thighs - were exposed. You hated that she was right.

Hoping to clear your mind some, you walk over to the couch off to her side. This only served to give you a crystal clear view of Yuri sticking the popsicle into her mouth.

"Mmf, shih." Yuri swears, having died in her game. Hands occupied by the controller, Yuri kept the popsicle in her mouth purely out of suction. And it sounded like it, too.

"*schlurp" Mm, I tolh you to get sthrawberry! *schlip*" Drips from the popsicle drool out of the side of her mouth. Yuri pauses the game to free her hands, trailing the streams of drippings with her finger and bringing it to her tongue, suckling on it to make sure it was licked clean.

As soon as she was done with the popsicle, Yuri tossed the stick aside and snaps her fingers at you. "Another please! Consider this payment for your fap material later tonight, hee hee." Yuri jabs, with a wink and a demeaning giggle.

At this point you were very obviously aroused, whether it was Yuri's intent or not you didn't know. But strangely, you were also angry. Like you wanted to get even.

A lightbulb dings in your head as you jump up to grab a popsicle. You open the now partially melted bar, and bring it over to Yuri. You crouch over the girl's legs, still stomach down on the floor.

"Eh?" Yuri looked back behind her, locking eyes with you. Without breaking eye contact, you flick your wrist down, slapping the back of her right thigh with the popsicle.

"Oops."

"Ahhn! That's really cold!" Her squirms under you only signal you to rub the popsicle around her thigh even more.

Yuri's squirms lift up her shirt a little, exposing her lower back and giving you an idea. You raise the hem of her shirt with one hand and touch the popsicle to the dip of her back.

"What the fffu-! Ah! Not there!" Yuri tries to swipe behind her with one arm, but has to return to her controller for the game. You get another brilliant idea, now taking the popsicle to the side of her neck.

"Ahhhn!" Yuri recoils, turning to hide her exposed neck. "Mmf...dammit... I just took a shower..."

You couldn't tell what pushed your buttons more, Yuri's moans or seeing the brat princess not being able to act high and mighty for once.

You look up to see Yuri had already powered the game off.

"Get off already, I gotta take another shower."

Yuri lifts off the ground with her arms, but you gently push her back down.

"Nuh-uh, I'm getting my money's worth," you say without thinking.

"Wait, wha-"

You grab onto Yuri's grape flavored thigh. Your mouth begins to water. Your brain can't think of anything but 'devour'. Flipping back the switch in your head, you hesitate for a second, wondering if you were pushing this too far. A bead of sweat drips down your brow. You take a gulp, and start to get up before Yuri interrupts you, grabbing at your shirt from behind her.

"Yuri, let me go, this isn't right we should-"

Yuri pulls you in harder.

"Make me."

This little slut. You dive in.

Your tongue trails Yuri's thigh from the behind of her knee to the bottom of her cheeks. One more run through. Another. The grape flavor of the popsicle became intertwined with the salty taste of sweat, clouding your mind until all that was left was the taste of Yuri. Yuri squirms, but not in an evasive way like before. This... this was pleasure.

You lift up and off the rest of Yuri's shirt to reveal her bare back, not having put on a bra. Your tongue trails from her lower back to her nape. You plant kisses on your way up, sending gentle jolts of electricity down Yuri's spine.

"I can't... mmf... take anymore..."

You move up to hover over her neck, kissing once before sucking, hard. Hard enough to leave a mark. Make it two.

"Fuuuuck, right there... harder...daddy..." Yuri's eyes go wide once she realizes her slip up. "I, er, mean... I didn't..."

"Fuck it. I want you to fuck this tight brat cunt silly. Daddy." Yuri demands as she turns around and wraps her arms around your neck, that mischievous smile returning where it belongs.

The switch in your head shifts into overdrive after hearing your new nickname. Yuri was your annoying best friend. Now she's your little toy.

You caress Yuri on the cheek, admiring how beautiful she looks wanting to be destroyed. You kiss her on the lips; she deserves a little reward. Yuri pulls away.

"When I said harder, I meant har-"

Choke. You shut her up with a vice grip on her throat. She responds with a smile. Your grip loosens, and Yuri takes a second to catch her breath.

"*cough* Whew, p-perfect. That's all this little slut deserves. Again."

Choooooke. Yuri's face turns red, from arousal or desperation, it doesn't matter. Your free hand wanders down Yuri's body, taking a pit stop pinching her perky nipples, until it finds its home rubbing against her folds through her panties. You feel Yuri's legs kick against the floor behind you, ecstasy building on her face. Yuri taps out, her hand slapping against your arm.

"Ah- *cough cough* fuck that was hot. I can't- *cough* I can't be the only one having all the fun." Yuri reaches for your erection, rubbing up and down through your underwear.

"Not yet. One more thing." You reach for a pair of pants left on your couch and pull the belt from it's buckles. You make a loose loop and place it around Yuri's neck, then proceed to tighten it. Not hard enough to block airways, but enough to lead your pet around with ease.  And lead you did, dragging Yuri on all fours down the hallway into your room and onto your bed.

"You've got me where you want, Daddy. Now what?" Yuri utters, followed by a smirk and a lip bite.

You straddle Yuri's chest, erection full mast in front of her face. Yuri reaches to pull your underwear down, Your entire length nearly smacking her in the face. Yuri bites her lip in anticipation, stroking your rod up and down in the meantime. "Go slow, I don't think I can take the whole-"

You interrupt her by pushing your tip against her lips, which immediately purse open in submission. Against her wishes, you invite yourself to the back of Yuri's throat, thrusting in and out. To your surprise, Yuri's eyes were kept open, no tears nor redness in her face; a slight smile even forming on her face. Seeing this as a challenge, you plunge the deepest you can go, keeping yourself there for a particularly long time until Yuri starts to gag and taps out on your leg.

"You held out for a while. Have you been practicing?" you say, caressing your pet's cheek as a reward.

"*cough* I don't tell you to buy the jumbo popsicles for nothing. *cough cough*"

You shuffle backwards off Yuri's chest, finding yourself between her legs and in open view of her utterly soaked panties. With a Pavlovian response your mouth starts to water; your hands move on their own to practically rip her panties from her legs.

In missionary, you rub the length of your shaft against Yuri's folds, feeling a burning heat akin to the surface of the sun with each pass through. Eventually the slickness becomes too much, and your tip unwittingly finds its way inside Yuri.

"Nnnh... n-now this... this you really have to take slowly..." Yuri utters out, her voice trembling with overstimulation. Feeling sincerity in your pet's words, you enter as slowly as your temptation allows. You watch as Yuri's folds try their hardest to accept this foreign object, feeling her walls clamp down on every inch of you. Until, finally, you bottom out as your hilt rests against her entrance.

"Holy fuck daddy... if you move an inch I'll cum..." Yuri says, stretching out her entrance with two fingers.

As much as you'd hate to admit it, you felt the same. To endure the edge of your climax you crash your lips into Yuri's, years of want and passion paying off in a single kiss. Your tongues dance around, each of your individual juices now mixing in two places at once. You pull away to see a strand of saliva leading from Yuri's tongue, sticking out from the overstimulation. Her eyes were now glazed over, overwhelmed by the two-front attack.

"Yuri, I can't hold it..."

"Mmmh, mhm." Yuri musters out, words escaping her thoughts only to be left with mindless moans.

You start thrusting, in and out, slowly rising in speed. Yuri loudly squeals, throwing her head backwards, her nails digging into your back. Yuri's walls clamps harder than you can ever imagine, thrusting now a laborious yet gratifying endeavor. The pressure builds, and builds, until...

Pop.

You spurt seemingly endlessly into the depths of Yuri's core, her walls pulsating with glee. You collapse forward, lips colliding now listlessly yet satisfied. The room is silent apart from your individual breathless pants.

You lay on your back next to Yuri, who cuddles up next to you on your chest. You enjoy this moment of calm.

That is, until you remember it's 100 degrees out.

"Yuri, it's hot.." you say, as you to try peel Yuri's arm off your chest.

"Mm-mm." Yuri says in defiance, now clinging onto you with a death grip.

"Yuri you little-"

"Brat. But you love it." Yuri nuzzles her cheek into your shoulder.

You hated that she was right.

[reidgraygubler]

peanut buttercup (matthew gray gubler/reader)

Title: Peanut Buttercup

Anon Requested: Hi so I been asking for this request for awhile but no one seems to do it. I was wondering if you could write a Matthew Gray Gubler x Fem! Reader. And they have a 5 year old kid. They both work together on Criminal minds and play each other’s love interest. One day their babysitter cancels and they have to bring their kid to set. They have a balance taking care of a kid and filming. And can you possibly add that Matthew is filming one of his unauthorize documentary and he includes his kid. I would really love to read this.

Couple: Dad!Matthew Gray Gubler/Fem!reader

Category: fluff

Content Warning: swearing, Dad!Mgg, mentions of being sick

Word Count: 5,076

Summary: When reader and Matthew’s babysitter cancels on them on a last minute notice, they’re forced to bring their 5-year-old daughter, Tallulah ‘Peanut’, to set. Matthew and Reader have to re-learn to balance filming, on set tomfoolery, and taking care of their daughter. 

A/N: i literally love this request so much, it’s so cute and makes me feel so soft. I really needed to write some cute fluff after everything im writing, especially for a different type of high… so thank you for sending this in. i think we need more dad!mgg fluff too, we stan dad!mgg. So, meet tallulah jane ‘peanut’ gubler, and reader ‘buttercup’ gubler :))) im so soft right now. thanks for all the love and support! check out my masterlist! 

{***}{***}{***}

It was… quiet. Quite possibly too quiet. Especially for a house that has 2 actors and a five-year-old daughter. I was getting the chance to sleep in a little later than normal, and there's no husband or little girl begging for breakfast. Maybe husband took her on a morning jaunt? No, that'd be too ambitious for him, and even for her. Or, maybe he put a movie on and she's actually watching. Or maybe- frick, nevermind. I clearly spoke too soon and had my hopes too high. The pitter-patter of little feet, followed by the louder footsteps of an adult man came running into the bedroom.

"Tallulah," Matthew's voice was soft, like he was whispering but knew it'd be useless. Because once she got up into the bed, I was starting to wake up more.

"Mommy, mommy! Wake up! Wake up!" A little girl's voice shouted as she jumped on the bed. I kept the blanket over my body and groaned as a small body jumped on top of mine.

"5 more minutes," I pretended to whine as I pulled my blanket over my head. I could hear Matthew's laughter as Tallulah jumped into my body. I groaned at the sudden weight on my still tired body. "Okay, okay I'm awake," I tiredly spoke as I sat up. Tallulah fell onto the bed beside me in a fit of laughter.

Matthew was already dressed and what seemed ready for the day. His glasses sitting on his nose, and his hair falling perfectly around his face. A bizarre patterned shirt, that I wouldn't be surprised if Tallulah picked it, hung off his frame, paired with a pair of jeans and his converse. How long had he been awake? 

"I tried telling her you wanted 5 more minutes," Matthew laughed as he looked at me. I looked back at him and smiled, before looking down at our daughter, who was still laughing. Her beautiful brown and curly locks of hair, though somewhat a ratty mess, covered her face just enough to show her toothy smile and brown/hazel eyes. "She just wouldn't listen. She wanted to know what you wanted for breakfast," Matthew smiled as he sat beside me on the edge of the bed.

"Breakfast!?" I exclaimed as I looked down at Tallulah. She looked up at me and smiled before rolling around on her back. "I guess that’s up to you, Peanut," I smiled as I placed a hand on her stomach.

"Pancakes!" She sat up and looked at me. I looked over at Matthew and smiled. The amusement he wore on his face made me feel happy. Of course, no matter what his daughter did, he was amused or happy. I don’t blame him though, she’s basically the mini-me version of him.

"Pancakes!? That sounds like a great idea!" I brushed her hair away from her face, "how about you and daddy get started in those while I take a quick shower and get ready for the day?" I asked with a smile. I glanced back at Matthew, silently telling him to help me out with this. “Maybe make me some chocolate chip pancakes? Oh! Or a few apple cinnamon?” I smiled at him. Matthew laughed at my enthusiasm for pancakes.

"Sounds like a solid plan to me," Matthew stood up and placed his fists in his hips. Tallulah looked between Matthew and me before falling off the bed in a sensible style. 

"Sounds like a plan," she copied Matthew's action and looked up at him with a smile. I smiled and watched as the pair marched out of the room. 

I sighed deeply before lying back again for a minute. I knew the second I left my bed, mommy mode would have to be fully turned on for the morning. Although mommy mode was way more preferable than actor mode, I just get to be around my favorite little girl and it makes me happy. 

Time, unfortunately, was not on my side. It was nearing the time Marianne (Tallulah’s nanny) would be here, and Matthew and I would have to leave for work. Which all meant I had about 15 minutes to shower, get dressed, and actually get ready for the day.

Once I was finished showering and getting dressed, I went to the kitchen where I knew I'd find Matthew and Tallulah. The sweet smell of apple cinnamon pancakes found its to my nose. 

“Those pancakes smell amazing!” I spoke as I entered the kitchen. Matthew was standing beside Tallulah, gently brushing out her knotty hair. “I can't wait to have one,” I looked down at Tallulah, “did you help make them, Tj?”

“Yeeeah!” She exclaimed as she put her fork in her mouth. 

“Did you also help make the mess?” I looked around the counter at the mess that suddenly appeared overnight. Matthew looked down at Tallulah, who was looking up at him with wide eyes. She was obviously whispering something to him, causing Matthew to laugh. 

“That was, uh… That was Rumple Buttercup,” Matthew nodded as he looked back up at me. I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “He came up here just as you got into the shower and made the biggest mess? Isn’t that right, Peanut?” Matthew looked back down at her and wink.

“Yeah! It was Rumbellercup.” She looked at me with a cheesy smile. 

“Right,” I faked an amused smile before nodding. I quietly grabbed a sponge and began wiping up the sticky flour mess on the countertop. “Well, next time, Rumple Buttercup should stick around and clean up,” I smiled as I looked over at the two.  

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry about the mess,” Matthew winked at me. I rolled my eyes before continuing my cleaning. Well, tried to continue before being stopped by my phone ringing. 

“Phone!” Tallulah shouted as she pointed towards me and my phone. I looked up at her and smiled.

“Looks like it’s Marianne,” I looked at the screen, noticing her name, “Wonder why she isn’t here yet,” I spoke before answering.

“Hey, Marianne! We were just talking about you!” I smiled as I tossed the icky sponge into the sink.

“I’m really sorry, Mrs. Gubler,” her voice was low as she spoke. I furrowed my eyebrows and cocked my head, “I’m afraid I have to cancel. I can’t babysit Tallulah today?”

“What do you mean you have to cancel?” I asked, I honestly had my answer the second she sneezed, then coughed, then sneezed again. “You know something, it’s okay,” “I’m really sorry, Mrs. Gubler,” she spoke through a cough. I cringed as I looked over at my husband and five-year-old. I could sense that she was talking about something, and he was doing his best to keep up and understand whatever it was she was saying. 

“It’s okay! It’s okay, really. I hope you feel much better. Take all the time you need,” I insisted as I rested my hand on the counter, “We’ll figure something out. I just hope you feel better,” I frowned as I kept my eyes on the two. 

“Again, I’m so sorry,” Marianne whispered. I bit my lips back and shook my head.

“Get some rest. Call if you need anything,” I replied before hanging up. I placed my phone on the counter before going to grab things for lunch for Tallulah. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Matthew looked up at me as he brushed Tallulah’s hair into two pigtails. He had a certain look of worry on his face as he looked at me. I looked up at him as I made a ham and cheese sandwich. Hopefully, she enjoys a sandwich with all the fruit snacks a five-year-old could consume (which, unfortunately, was a lot), and some actual fruit. I'm sure when on our way home we'll stop somewhere for dinner or late lunch. That's hope it usually works when Tallulah comes to set with us.

“Marianne is sick. Can’t babysit today,” I frowned as I looked between him and Tallulah. Tallulah was too busy eating her pancakes and rambling about Alvin and The Chipmunks (specifically about how Theodore was her favorite, not Simon) to actually care about our conversation. 

“Really,” Matthew looked at me and dropped his shoulders. He puffed his cheeks a little bit before frowning, “No one else?” 

“I mean, I could call Aj and see if her babysitter can watch Little Miss, but that’d be a lot for one lady,” I paused as I looked down at our daughter, “Or we could bring her. You know how much everyone on set loves seeing her,” I shrugged as I looked up at him. Even though it was a lot of work bringing a five-year-old to set, we both loved it. The balance between working and taking care of her was a bit rough, but we always made it work. 

“We could do that, we have a couple of scenes together, I’m sure we could get Kirsten or someone to be with her for that time,” he looked down at his daughter before adjusting her pigtails, “Maybe even convince the writers to give Spencer and Mollie a daughter,” he looked back at me and winked. I shook my head.

“You should finish getting her ready because we have to go soon,” I pointed out. Matthew looked down at Tallulah with a smile before shrugging.

“Alright, let’s go, Peanut!” Matthew spoke as he lifted Tallulah up and stood her up on the table. I looked at the two and smiled.

“You get to come to work with me and daddy today,” I walked over to them and readjusted her crocked pigtails, and carefully pinched her cheeks, “That means you get to see Auntie Kirsten, Auntie Aj, Auntie Pag, and everyone else,” I smiled and watched as Matthew lifted her up on to his hip. 

“Yay!” Tallulah shouted once she was clinging to Matthew’s side. The two of them closely resembled a Koala. She grabbed Matthew’s face, a hand on either side, to get his attention, “Daddy’s work,” she whispered. I smiled, already looking forward to the shenanigans that was about to happen during our day. Whenever we bring Tallulah to set for a visit, almost everyone wants to spend time with her. And she sucks up all the attention. She’s got everyone wrapped around her tiny little finger. 

“Go pick out some cool clothes with daddy while I finish making your lunch. Sounds good?” I looked at her. She smiled and nodded before looking at Matthew. 

“Let’s go get out of your jammies,” Matthew spoke, tugging on her Elsa nightgown. The two walked away and towards her bedroom. I  seriously hope he’ll help her pick out something nice to wear and not let her wear a princess dress. I love it, but not today. {***}{***}{***}

“You gotta be a good girl for mom and I, okay? You can watch us while we work, but you gotta be super quiet,” Matthew held a finger up to his lips, as if he was telling Tallulah to be quiet. She smiled before copying his action. “Can you do that?”

“I can do that,” she enthusiastically nodded once Matthew set her on the ground. I squatted beside her and gave her a few quiet toys and coloring books as Matthew went to talk to one of the assistants/interns nearby. 

“Look, we packed your favorite coloring book,” I smiled as I placed the coloring book on the ground beside her. She grabbed the crayons from me and poured them out. I looked at her for a moment before standing upright.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t just have her in the trailer? It’d be safer for, well, everyone. And if we check on her every so often,” I looked at Matthew once he was back beside me. We walked side by side back towards wardrobe and makeup. 

“Nah, it’s fine. One of the interns said they’d watch her. And then we can get one of the makeup artists to watch her. You know how much they love her,” Matthew smiled at me. I rolled my eyes and shook my head as I remembered the day we visited set after Tallulah was born. Other than Kirsten and AJ, the makeup artists were the ones to not leave our side because they loved her so much. I honestly didn’t blame them. “Don’t stress so much about this, Buttercup, this isn’t the first time she’s had to come to set with up. And you know for a fact it won’t be the last time,” he stopped right in front of the door to the makeup studio. “She’ll do a great job,” he smiled before hugging me. 

“I know, I know. She’s just a lot older than she was the last time she came with us. And I know something will happen,” I sighed, pressing my face into his shoulder. Matthew laughed as he squeezed me tightly. 

“And, if she does, we’ll take a break, bring to the trailer, and calm her down. C’mon, you know she’s a great kid,” he looked down at me as he rested his hands on my shoulders. I laughed as I looked up at him.

“That’s because she’s your kid,” I nodded before stepping away from and entering the makeup studio.

Of course, luck was not really on our side. We were a few hours left of filming, Tallulah had been doing a great job, staying quiet and playing with one of the make up artists. Until she bashed her head into a table, causing her to go into full hysterics. 

“I got it, I’m done for the day anyways,” Aj looked at me from her space on the ground, away fro the raised set, “She’ll be okay. I can make all little girl boo-boos go away,” she smiled before stepping up to me. I looked at her before looking over at Matthew, who was already over soothing our daughter. 

“I owe you big,” I walked up to her, “You know we have stuff in our trailer for her. I think it might be naptime,” I looked at her, feeling the worry in my brow.

“Got it, naptime,” Aj gave me a thumbs up before stepping off the set. I watched as she carefully approached Matthew and Tallulah. Tears were still fresh in her eyes, but she was laughing at whatever it was Matthew was telling her. I could feel a smile tugging on my lips as I watch Aj grasp Tallulah’s hand, leading her away from the studio. 

“She’ll be fine,” Matthew smiled at me before pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. I hummed before stepping away from him.

“Oh, I know that, I don’t doubt. I’m just tired, I suppose,” I rubbed the underside of my nose, “But, we’re almost done,” I nodded with a smile. I was just happy we were able to get back to work pretty quickly after the temper tantrum.

{***}{***}{***}

“I think we’ve got what we needed for today! That’s a wrap!” The director shouted to everyone on set. I allowed my shoulders to slump as a yawn worked its way through my mouth. Matthew laughed as he looked over at me.

“You definitely needed those extra five minutes,” he spoke as he shrugged off his ‘Spencer Reid’ blazer. I yawned, again, and nodded. 

“Suppose that’s life with a 5-year-old,” I stepped off the set with him and walked beside him towards our trailer, “Do you want to go get that girl in question, or should I?” I raised an eyebrow once we were both in the privacy of our small trailer. 

“You should. I want to do something real quick,” he pecked my lips real quick as he walked towards the backend of the trailer. I looked down at the few toys that were thrown around the floor, before grabbing Tallulah’s backpack and sweater. 

“You want to do something? What would that be?” I asked, throwing the strap of the backpack over my shoulder. A moment later, Matthew stepped back towards me, wearing a Babygirl hat that Shemar got for him, and a purple scarf that he totally stole from me. “You look like a douchebag,” I scoffed as I turned towards the door, “You’re lucky I love you, and that we’re married,” I turned back and looked at him for a moment. 

“I think you’re the lucky one, Buttercup,” Matthew spoke to me as I stepped off the trailer. I laughed and shook my head. “Not everyone can score this,” he spoke as he gestured towards his body. I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, are you going to let me go get our kid? Or are you going to pull me into whatever it is you have planned,” I asked with a sly smile on my lips. 

“Should probably go get Tallulah,” he shrugged as he followed beside me. I looked at him and allowed him to kiss me softly. “Good luck,” 

“I’ll need all the luck in the world,” I laughed before peeling away from him. I could hear him talking to someone as I walked away, and I could only imagine it was one of the cameramen. 

Usually Aj took her out of the studio the second the tantrum started, bringing somewhere quiet. Usually, it was our trailer, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they were there for a bit, but I knew after naps it was always snack time. So, I went towards the cafeteria.

“Mommy!” A little voice shouted from across the room. My eyes scanned around, looking for my little girl and friend. Aj was sitting at one of the tables with Tallulah on her lap. Tallulah was busy, eating chicken nuggets that Aj must’ve gotten for her. So much better than a ham and cheese sandwich.

“Hey, Peanut!” I exclaimed as I sat across from them at the table. I glanced at Aj and smiled, silently telling her thank you. “Did you have a fun time with Auntie Aj?” I looked back down at Tallulah.

“Yeah!” She exclaimed before shoving a whole chicken nugget in her mouth. I raised my eyebrows and laughed.

“We took a nap, colored, played with some dolls, and then we were hungry,” Aj looked up at me as she listed their activities during the last few hours. I nodded and leaned over the table.

“That sounds like a great time. I wish I could take a nap,” I sighed before stealing one of her nuggets. Tallulah glared at me as I munched on the food. “I wanna see your drawings!” I smiled at her. Tallulah turned and looked up Aj, asking her to show the drawings she made.

“Tada!” she beamed as she showed me her drawings. I looked down at the 4 sheets of paper with a multitude of colors. One of them was easily imaged as a family portrait and I could easily point out Matthew and me, and Tallulah. Another one was just a tornado of colors, with animal stickers placed around them. And the last two pictures were coloring pages we had printed off, a Disney princess and a picture of Alvin and the Chipmunks (again, it’s her favorite movie… And not because her dad is in it).

“These are awesome, Peanut!” I looked back up at her with an excited smile, “I’m sure you had such a great time with Auntie AJ! I can’t wait to hear about it all! What do you say to her?” I looked at Tallulah as I brushed hair away from her face.

“Thank you, Auntie AJ,” Tallulah looked up at Aj with a bright, cheesy smile. Aj returned the smile as she looked at my daughter.

“Of course! I had a wonderful time with you! You be good for mom and dad, okay?” Aj asked before offering a hug. Tallulah squealed before throwing her arms around Aj. I smiled, watching the pair interact.

“Should we go find daddy? I’m sure he’d love to see your drawings!” I asked stood up. Aj helped Tallulah to the ground before standing up herself. Aj handed me Tallulah’s stuffed animal and a few of her other things. “Thank you so much, Aj,” I smiled at her.

“Of course, you know I love watching her,” she returned the smile, “Seriously, if you need help with you, you know I’m always available, even on set,” she hugged me.

“Of course, again thank you so much,” I returned the hug before letting her leave. Tallulah watched as Aj walked away, before looking up at me with a smile, “Let’s find dad,” I smiled before offering her my hand. She grabbed it before walking beside me. I handed her stuffed animal back to her as we left the cafeteria. 

“Are you going to show daddy your pictures?” I looked down at Tallulah. She was holding a small stack of papers in her hand as she skipped beside me. Her stuffed animal was now stuffed under her arm since her hands were too busy holding her drawings and she didn’t want me to hold it. “You did a good job with your family portrait,” I looked at the papers in her hand. She was looking down at that very picture with a big smile on her face. 

“Yeah!” She looked up at me and gushed. I chuckled as she hugged her pictures close to her chest. 

“Do you think he’ll like them?” I looked up and saw Matthew at a bit of a distance, someone standing beside him as he talked. He was moving around a lot, which told me he was up to something.  

“Yeah!” Tallulah exclaimed as she added a little bit of a skip to her step. And that skip in her step told me that she was excited. Well, it was more than the skip in her step. It was also the sweet-tooth, cheek-achingly, adorable smile she wore on her precious little face. 

“Do you think he’ll… Love it?” I looked down at her for a moment. She stopped walking for a second as she looked down at the picture she had drawn. Tallulah was definitely blessed with Matthew’s sense of style when it came to art (and clothing), which was lovely. She’ll be something of an artist when she grows up, I’m sure of it. Especially when her family portrait has three people and two of them have 2 heads and 4 arms, and the other one has a tail. But, that’s okay. Matthew will most definitely love her drawing. I know I do.

“Love it! Love it!” She looked up at me as she jumped. I laughed and shook my head. She looked down at the pictures again before holding them up to me. I raised an eyebrow before taking them from her to hold. 

“Well, I know I love them,” I looked back down at her. As we continued walking, she kept talking about what she got to do with Kirsten and Aj. Her babble was still a little bit incoherent, but I knew what she was saying. God bless Kirsten though. “I’m kinda hungry, do you think daddy will let us get McDonald’s on the way home?” I looked back down at her as she grabbed my hand.

“McDonald’s?” She looked at me with wide eyes. Let me just put that into my child’s mind so she can ask Matthew. Because everyone knows it’s hard to say no to the Gubler child. No one knows better than Matthew. 

Unfortunately, our conversations ended there. Because as we turned the corner, Matthew’s voice could be heard. I looked up and saw him standing beside our trailer. The second Tallulah would hear his voice, she would be off and glued to him, instead of me. What a little daddy’s girl.

“Who the fuck is that?” Matthew half-shouted to the cameraman beside him. Even though we were a good distance away from him, I could still hear the words he was saying. I was grateful that Tallulah couldn’t hear him. We both know she’d repeat any word she knows she’s not allowed to say. And since he was standing beside a cameraman, I knew he was filming one of his Unauthorized Documentaries. “Who the fuck is that,” he pulled the cameraman and pointed him towards Tallulah and I. This man and his swearing around his 5-year-old. I swear. 

“Daddy! Daddy!” Tallulah shouted once grew closer to him. She let go of my hand before sprinting away from me and towards Matthew. When she was close enough to him, she jumped into the air and Matthew caught her. “Guess what, Daddy!” She shouted into his ear. Matthew laughed as he looked over at me. 

“What, Peanut?” He asked, swinging her around so she was on his back. Sort of like a monkey with its baby. It was Tallulah’s favorite way to be carried. “You got to hang out with Kirsten and Aj while mommy and I worked, right?” He looked over his shoulder at his daughter. She laughed as she rested her head on his shoulder.

 “Yeah!” she looked over at me as I got closer to them. I shuffled the few pictures before flipping them around to show him. “Auntie Kirsten and Auntie Aj let me color!” Tallulah, again, shouted into his ear. Matthew looked at the pictures in my hands and smiled.

“Woah! Peanut, these are awesome! Are you going to be an artist like dad?” He looked over his shoulder and at Tallulah. I smiled as I shuffled the pictures to show more of them.

“Yeeeah,” she smiled before pressing her face into his shoulder, like she was hiding. I smiled before stepping up to him. Matthew smiled before pecking my lips. 

“Little Miss and I are starving,” I grabbed his hand and swung it beside me.

“Starving?!” Matthew spoke loud so Tallulah could hear him. A little giggle came from her as she readjusted her position, “Well, we can’t have that! Where do you want to eat, Peanut?” 

“McDonalds!” 

“McDonalds?” Matthew looked over at me with a raised eyebrow. I smiled and looked down at the ground, “Let’s fucking go then!” Matthew half shouted as he jumped. Tallulah giggled as she hugged her arms tighter around his neck, almost nearly suffocating him. 

“Matthew,” I looked at him with the signature mom glare I adopted from my own mother. He looked over at me as he placed a hand on his daughter’s arms. He knew exactly what the glare was meant for. Swearing in front of our 5-year-old. Of course, we both knew that wouldn’t be the first or last time he’d swear in front of her.

“Daddy said fuck!” Tallulah shouted before laughing. Matthew looked at me with an apologetic look in his eye before swinging Tallulah off his back and on to his hip. I cocked my head as I placed my hands on my hips. “Fuck!” She repeated, shouting the word at Matthew. And, again, this wouldn’t be the last time she repeated a swear word.

“Now, Tallulah, that is a mommy and daddy word. You know you shouldn’t say that. Just because mommy or daddy does, doesn’t mean you can,” he looked at her. She pouted before nodded. Thankfully, she actually understood when to not say swear words, she also understood what “mommy and daddy” words were. “Got it?” Matthew looked at her with furrowed eyebrows. She looked up at him and stuck up her thumb.

“Got it!” She smiled before throwing her arms around his neck. Matthew laughed before picking her back up.

“Now, let’s go get some happy meals,” Matthew spoke as he pointed towards the direction of our car. I sighed deeply, walking the opposite direction towards our trailer, knowing they’ll both know we need to stop by there before we leave.

{***}{***}{***}

“She asleep?” I asked, glancing away from my script as Matthew entered the room. He pulled his shirt off as he went towards his closet.

“She’s always insistent on Rumple Buttercup, but almost never makes it to the end,” he laughed as he put his pajamas on. I smiled as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Maybe it’s time you wrote a second one… Give Rumple Buttercup a brother or sister,” I laughed as I rubbed a hand on his back. He looked over his shoulder with a smile before getting comfortable in the bed beside me.

“You know… I’ve been thinking,” Matthew started as he moved closer to me. I looked up from my script and over at him with a raised eyebrow. Something was telling me he wasn’t going to continue talking about a second Rumple Buttercup book… “What if Tallulah had a little brother or sister,” he asked as he looked up at me with puppy dog eyes. I couldn’t help but burst out with laughter. I felt bad for my laughter, mostly because I knew he wanted a second child. But, we were running slim on time with that.

“She is too much of a daddy’s girl to share with anyone, including me, Matthew,” I closed my script as I looked up at him. He looked genuinely hurt with my laughter and comment. “Besides, I thought we were good with the one,” I gestured towards her room.

“But, what if we had another one,” he shrugged. I dropped my shoulders and sighed, but kept a smile on my lips nonetheless. “C’mon, two! That’s a perfect number!” “Two is a perfect number,” I swallowed roughly as I looked down at the bedding in front of me. I couldn’t help but allow the smile on my lips to grow. “And she wouldn’t be alone on family trips,” I mused as I glanced over at him. Matthew was looking at me with the excitement of a kid in a candy store. “You don’t think we should talk about this first? I mean, Matthew, you’re almost 40, I’m nearly 35...” I let out a small laugh.

“I think we just talked about it! And to me it sounds like we both want it,” he smiled before pressing his lips to mine. I hummed before moving away from him. 

“Okay, okay, we can try. But not right now. I’m exhausted. Maybe once Marianne is better and we don’t have to take Tallulah to set. Because that was so exhausting,” I ran a hand through his hair and smiled, “Fair?” 

“Fair,” he smiled before kissing me softly, “Love you,”

“I love you too,” 

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @thebluetint​

[choptop-sawyer]

Could you do one of the sawyers(nubbins is still alive, idk who said that he's dead) and s/o Comforting chop when his ptsd triggers or has a really horrifying nightmare?

Yah. (We all just want Chop Top to be comforted, huh? That's not a bad thing at all... wholesome anon).

(Yes Nubbins regularly enters people's bedrooms at night you just never catch him because he's sneaky)

Chop Top Being Comforted by his S/O (And Nubbins)

Chop doesn't sleep often. This was an undeniable fact to you. It seems that every night the most sleep he would get would be to drift off for a few hours, unless he was extremely and utterly exhausted. You didn't think this kind of sleep schedule was healthy, but what was healthy about Chop? He's a scrappy mess of hard edges lit through with a wild (and perhaps a bit of a mean) spark. Anybody could figure that out. No wonder he didn't sleep. Maybe he just didn't need it as much as other people.

Or at least, that's what you thought at first. In the late hours, he'd get a glassy look, or wide eyed, nervous. Chop starts talking, his speech breaking up, conversation fraying, almost as if he was pushing himself to stay awake. You're not sure if he does this to himself on purpose. It hurts a little to watch it.

You talked a little about it with Nubbins. The Hitchhiker never seems to get tired himself, always the same level of bright and feverish. But when Chop's lack of sleep is brought up, Nubbins falls into an uncharacteristic quiet.

You almost think he's forgotten all about you, and move to leave, until you feel him tugging on your arm. "He's scared! Bobby's scared!" Nubbins makes a mock expression of fear, then beams, proud of himself for coming up with that answer.

It's hard to tell if whatever Nubbins' says is right sometimes. How he comes to his own conclusions is a bit of a mystery but still... he might have a point now. What else could cause Chop to stay awake if he is not scared of sleep? It's not enjoyable for him to stay up, you know that. You tuck this exchange away in the back of your mind and thank Nubbins.

All things that go up must come down. It was a butchering day, you felt sorry that Bubba was left with all of the dirty work, so you convinced Chop Top to help him. He didn't find much interest in it, the meat he was cutting no longer screamed. But there was a lot of it to cut up and store, more to haul to the burn barrel. Chop was bone tired by the end. He still chattered some when you both were in bed that night, but his sentences trailed off into long, long stretches of silence.

Finally, he fell asleep. The bedroom seemed bigger without his voice filling it. You usually fell asleep before him, but you did your best to take care of him. You covered him in a blanket, shifted him onto his side of the bed, and turned off the lights. For you, sleep didn't wait long to come.

It didn't last long though. You woke up an hour later, with a figure standing at the edge of the bed. You were groggy, it was dark, but yet that silhouette seemed familiar...

"Nubbins?" You asked, voice filled with disbelief. The Hitchhiker perked up at the sound of his name. "That's me!"

You sit bolt upright and flick on a light. He's just... standing there with that big grin. "What... what?"

"I heard 'im! Bobby. He sounds like... like..." Nubbins waves his hands around, making pained noises in the back of his throat. You're still disoriented enough that it takes you a second to realize he's not the only one making those sounds.

Chop Top is next to you, a fine sheen of sweat across his brow. His face is contorted into something that looks foreign on his features, fear. Devastation. You roll over and place a hand on his shoulder. "Chop, hey Chop."

He jerks awake, startling you and causing Nubbins to jump. His eyes are wild, cloudy as if he's still seeing whatever scene played out in his dreams. A half-strangled yell bursts it's way out, and then he hunches over, hand finding its way to pick at his plate.

Nubbins slinks his way over to crouch by the bed side, and he gives you a questioning look. So, you lean over and rest a hand on Chop's shoulder. He doesn't look at you.

"Is this why you don't like sleeping?" You ask him. His eyes shift over to you. They're wide and haunted. You've never seen him like this. Any layer of frenzied joy, careless desperation has been stripped away. Dreams don't let him hide from how shit he feels.

"Y-yeah." He says. You scoot over further and wrap you arms around him, and he allows it, as limp as a rag doll. Chop sinks into your embrace.

"Hey!" Nubbins says, all of a sudden. You and Chop startle a little, but Nubbins doesn't notice. He's already moving to sit on the bed to look at his twin.

"Remember what Grandma used to say?" The Hitchhiker jabs a finger up in the air, punctuating his words. His voice pitches up when he says, in a copy of Grandma, "Dreams can't hurt ya none, they're gone as soon as the sun comes up."

Chop starts shaking. You look down in concern, but then you realize. He's laughing. His chest is heaving, his eyes are closed, and he's practically convulsing. When he starts making noise, you're sure he's going to wake up Drayton with how loud he is.

"Hell are you talkin' about Nubbins? Grandma ain't ever said that."

Nubbins laughs along too, and maybe it's because you're relieved, but you do too. All of you shriek with laughter, it fills the room.

When you all finally come down, Chop is still giggling, only a bit. He reaches up and kisses you on the side of your face. "T-thanks babe." He looks at Nubbins and pushes him off the bed, grinning. "You too, Nubs. Now g-git, why are ya in my room?"

Nubbins just smiles and leaves. You smile too. Maybe this hasn't fixed anything, in the long run. Chop might always have that trauma. But you hope that if you guys face it, side by side, well. Maybe it will run and hide when the sun comes up.

[this-is-my-procrastination]

hi honey! (●’◡’●)ﾉ could i request a oneshot with Dazai, and reader is just always sleepy? like if she sits still for longer than thirty minutes, she’ll be passed out? thank you!

pairing: dazai osamu x sleepy!reader

synopsis: sleepy y/n has trouble staying awake

request: hi honey! (●’◡’●)ﾉ could i request a oneshot with Dazai, and reader is just always sleepy? like if she sits still for longer than thirty minutes, she’ll be passed out? thank you!

a/n: omg im so sorry this literally took me 10 million years to finish!! i think i’ve rewritten this like more than four times at this point lmao but hopefully it turned out ok and you like it! as always, thank you so much for requesting ily <33

A pair of lips delicately brush your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, groggily blinking the sleep from your eyes as you slowly register the owner of the offending lips. To no one’s surprise, it’s Dazai’s smug face that beams back at you, grin softening as he teases, “Look who fell asleep again~ If you weren’t so cute, I might be offended y’know?” His playful pout causes you to giggle, your boyfriend already helping to make waking up so much less vexing than usual.

Retaliating to his teasing remarks, you attempt to ruffle his messy tuft of black hair but find that his head is sadly more than an arm’s length away, much to your dismay. Looking back down at your disheveled bedhead fondly, Dazai pulls you into his arms as you release a few indignant retorts. The movie you two were watching had been in its closing scenes, but when he looked towards you to ask your thoughts (and ask why you’d been so quiet after literally the first thirty minutes), he was met with your very cute, very endearing, very much asleep expression, eyes shut and mouth slightly ajar. Your head was adorably leaned against the crook of his neck, and he would prefer not to admit it, but he had spent more time than he realized just admiring your dozing features silently, appreciating and marveling at this human who made him feel so loved. Past Dazai would have scoffed at a serious romantic relationship that didn’t end in double suicide, but right now, the thought of not being able to spend peaceful moments like this with you was the most excruciating punishment he could possibly imagine. How could he imagine someone else when even just your sleeping face was so incredibly adorable to him?

Your freshly-awake ramblings brought him back to the present. Dazai lets his fingers drift and find its place loosely running down a stray strand of your hair, twirling it cheerfully as he listens to you continuing on.

You suddenly stop your rant, staring at him with an amused expression on your face before you gently prod his side, “What’re you so deep in thought about?” You pondered the possibilities, “Could you be thinking about what to eat? I’m pretty hungry too after that nice nap!”

“No, no,” Dazai dramatically denies your question, waving his hand dismissively, “Well - I’ll never say no to a snack, but I was actually mesmerized! You just look so cute when you’re sleepy~”

You playfully roll your eyes, nudging him with a teasing “uh-huh.”

“Is that why I can get away with falling asleep around you?” your smile is warm as you meet his eyes, and Dazai’s heart quickens just slightly, “I told you that you can wake me up since I sometimes fall asleep before I realize. I appreciate you always taking care of me though, Dazai. You’re a very good boyfriend for that~”

Your praise is music to Dazai’s ears as his lips quirk into a smirk, “Oh-ho, am I finally getting the appreciation I’ve been deserving? I’m glad you finally noticed!” Your boyfriend’s hand pats your head affectionately, and you laugh aloud as he plasters a quick sloppy kiss to your forehead.

You’re about to playfully call him out for his touchiness but your boyfriend’s chest immediately puffs out theatrically, “But don’t you worry! I’m self-sworn to protect my sleeping beauty for as long as I live - actually, even from the grave!”

Dazai’s sudden knightly attitude cracks you up as you swiftly duck out from under his hand. You grin widely at his antics before matching his energy with a statement fitting for a true princess: “oh, ya - uh! ok thanks buddy! so then, Sir Dazai, lead the way to the kitchen and let’s make a mid-movie - oh, never mind the movie’s over - a post-movie snack!”

Dazai’s cheers ring through your apartment as he eagerly yet still surprisingly delicately, always being careful to keep you unscathed and present by his side, grabs your hand and escorts you into the kitchen.

The plan was to make brownies. So, why is Dazai furiously beating a bowl of grainy “whipped cream” that he’d made using a combo of water and specifically granulated, not confectionary, sugar? Why is more brownie batter on cabinet doors than in the baking pan? Why is the salt tipped onto its side, spilling its entire contents into some kind of abstract shape on the countertop?

One reason: food fight. Maybe your abundant sleeping habits had finally caught up to you, but you had never felt as invigorated and actively mischievous as you had when you’d swiped some brownie batter onto your boyfriend’s face. It was worth it! You think. You thought. Dazai’s brown hues absolutely shined with mirth at your pathetic attempt of provoking him. You were prepared for him to laugh it off and call you adorable, maybe naive for playing with fire, but ultimately he would chuckle and move on. Except, that did not happen. Instead, he had immediately retaliated with an even bigger glop thrown into your hair, partly accidentally and partly to be a li’l gremlin, and oh boy, it just escalated from there.

The whipped cream Dazai had whipped up for “quick ammunition” was quickly used up - Dazai scooped it, and the heap had seemed to grow impossibly bigger with every additional spoonful. Currently, his smile was widening and creepily stretching ear-to-ear as his starry eyes zeroed in on your vulnerable form.

The ruthless battle continued for a while, but after finally agreeing to a truce, you both couldn’t help but stare at the resulting mess with equally blank stares.

“Mm... okgoodnightbabe! I’ll see you in the morning!” You almost trip over yourself as you flee, throwing a cursory glance at your incredulous boyfriend before giggling and rushing to close the bedroom door before he can follow. Dazai’s whining carries through the solid wood, but you playfully call back, “I’ll give you anything you want - just pleasee do the cleaning! And if it’s too much, come to bed and we can deal with it in the morning together, ok?”

You could clearly picture Dazai’s pout in your mind as the sound of his footsteps fades towards the kitchen. Smiling fondly, you quickly change into your pajamas and hop into your shared bed to wait for his return. However, listening to the distant clanging of bowls and whooshing of the tap water proved to be an effective lullaby, and you couldn’t help it as your eyes began to flutter and eventually stay closed.

By the time Dazai finishes cleaning, the dark night sky was starting to brighten and mix with the warm oranges and reds of sunrise. He quietly opens your bedroom door and is met, not really to his surprise, by your sleeping lump of a body. Dazai’s brows furrow slightly, but he quickly notices the open book laying by your form and realizes that you had been up waiting for him. He could also tell you by the blankets messily strewn around you - usually you preferred having them wrapped around you like a tight burrito.

At that, Dazai lightly chuckles, his heart warming at the thought. He takes his time putting on a fresh set of clothes and rolls his eyes as he ever-so-gently tucks the blankets over you. The bed shifts as he climbs in carefully, but Dazai quickly freezes as you start to mumble quietly. Your words are inaudible, even as Dazai strains his ears to hear any (possible) secrets that you could be spouting. Shifting restlessly, you roll around and suddenly shoot out your arm, making an interesting grabby motion. Dazai almost lets out a laugh as he wonders what in the world you could be looking for, but his eyes widen when you make contact with your boyfriend and immediately calm down, hand gripping his shirt loosely.

As your body relaxes, Dazai feels a wide smile creep up his face, adoring and almost grossly soft. And he lets it. He just can’t help himself - he leans in and places an affectionate kiss on your forehead, lingering there before pulling back and squeezing next to you under the covers. He shifts your arm into a more comfortable position, and as you unconsciously flip to face him, Dazai’s eyes soften into a sweet but intensely warm chocolate brown. If you had been awake to open your eyes, you would have witnessed a rare but genuine sight: your boyfriend’s peaceful expression illuminated by the quiet sunlight of dawn, his eyes deeply staring into yours with endless messages of comforting assurance and happiness, and his lips subtly quirking into a tenderly loving smile shared only for the two of you.

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

there for you

summary: your best friend Bowen can’t help but draw some connections between you and your favorite show. 

word count: 2k

warnings: heavy spoilers for New Girl. like, its basically the premise of the fic

note from the writer: here’s a link to a tweet with the scene im talking about in this fic, its from the episode “Oregon” (season 4 ep 16). shoutout to @bqstqnbruin​ for finding it for me

Bowen had long since stopped asking to come over before showing up on your doorstep. Usually, he’d send a ‘are you home?’ text to make sure you were around, before heading to your apartment for whatever reason he had in mind.

The latest text had come in twenty minutes ago, so you knew he was going to show up soon.

Like clockwork, you heard a knock on your front door and Bowen greeting your roommates before your bedroom door opened. He was grinning, wide as ever, and you opened your arms for a hug from your position laying in bed, under the covers and in the middle of a New Girl marathon.

“Scoot over.” Bowen grins, barely giving you enough time to react before dropping on top of you, arms wrapped around your middle and his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You paused the show, not wanting to miss anything despite being on your third rewatch.

You wondered if he could feel how fast your heart was beating. If he knew just how much his touch affected you, how many feelings you were harboring from him.

“What’s up?” You asked, pushing away any thoughts about your massive crush on your best friend as you tried to get to the bottom of why he showed up out of the blue. It wasn’t the first time he had done so, but he always had a reason.

“I wanted to see you. Practice was rough.” He mumbled in the crook of your neck. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, how they fell past his lips so easily. Those words made you think that maybe your feelings weren’t so one sided, that there was a chance for you to be even happier than you already were with your best friend.

“You’re going to make me blush.” You teased, downplaying the fact that he really did manage to fluster you. Bowen snorted, squeezing you tightly once more instead of responding to your comment. An easy moment of silence passed, one that wasn’t stifling or awkward and it reminded you once more just how much you enjoyed being around Bowen. Subconsciously, one of your hands threaded through his hair. “I like it when your hair is longer like this.”

Your words were punctuated by a tug on his roots and though he didn’t say anything, he hummed contentedly. You worried that maybe he’d be able to hear the hammering of your heart or he’d know that the smile on your face wasn’t because of your platonic love for him. You feared that he would know—know how much you loved him and know that you had been hiding your feelings for so long. But you couldn’t let yourself think too much about that, you couldn’t let yourself overthink and ruin one of your closest friendships, so you tactfully changed the subject.

“Are we napping or watching my show?” You asked, though you had a pretty good idea what his answer would be.

“Nap, please.” He mumbled, and you could never deny him, especially when he was acting so sleepy and adorable, so you agreed easily. You both shifted your positions slightly, you trying to find the comfiest spot and him climbing under the covers with you, but eventually you both melted into your mattress, Bowen’s head still buried in the crook of your neck.

Bowen tried to stay awake a little longer; to tell you about his morning and the practice he had just come from that had drained his energy completely. But before long, his words were slurring together and when he stopped mid sentence, you knew he had fallen asleep with his arms wrapped around you and your fingers carding through his hair.

You tried to stay up too, to relish in the feeling of being in his arms. But you knew that pretending like it meant something more than it did was only going to break your heart more, so soon after he dozed off you closed your eyes and followed suit.

You were the first one to wake up, a combinatin of Bowen’s weight on you becoming slightly uncomfortable and the need to use the bathroom, so you did your best to climb out from underneath him without waking him. You thought you had made it out clear, but the moment your feet hit the floor Bowen was stirring from behind you.

“Where are you going?” He mumbled, causing you to halt your movements. It was far from the first time you had heard his gravelly voice just after he woke up, but it never failed to make your heart race. You swore you could listen to him talk forever, which was a good thing, since he never seemed to be able to stop talking.  

“Bathroom. I’ll be right back.” You told him, finally standing to your feet. When you turned back around, Bowen was already watching you with tired eyes that made your heart clench. God, you were so gone for him.

You slipped out of the room without saying anything more, not trusting yourself to not blurt out just exactly how his smile made you feel. When you returned, he was sitting up against your headboard, your laptop open on his lap as he queued up the episode you had been watching before he arrived.

“New Girl again?” Bowen teased when he spotted you enter the room. You playfully rolled your eyes at him, climbing back into your spot beside him on the bed. You mirrored his position, though you dropped your head against his shoulder.

“It’s a good show. Plus, Jess and Nick’s relationship is my favorite.” You told him decidedly, like you had a dozen times before. The relationship between Jess and Nick truly was somehting you strived for—friends that were always in love with each other, no matter the problems that arised and even when they were broken up they did their best to keep the other happy.

“Fair enough.” He chuckled, shifting slightly so that his arm was around you and he could hold you closer to his side. “What episode are we on?”

“Oregon.” You started, knowing you’d have to catch him up on more than just the episode name. “Jess, Cece, and the guys go to Portland because Jess’ dad is getting married. Jess’ boyfriend, Ryan, was supposed to show up but since he lives in England he said it wouldn’t make sense for him to be there. So, Nick’s trying to make Jess feel better because he secretly loves her and I just need them to get back together.”

“Don’t they end up together though?” Bowen asks, trying to recall as much about the show as he could. It might not have been one of his personal favorites, but he knew you loved it, so that was enough for him to try and follow along.

“Yeah, but they aren’t right now.” You confirm. Before Bowen could ask anymore questions, you pressed play on your laptop and continued where you left off. Jess and the group had just arrived at her childhood home, only to find her mom ready to greet Ryan, who wasn’t there. The scene played on, with Nick telling Jess the hard truth that Ryan bailing wasn’t okay.

You could feel Bowen’s eyes on you as the scene changed to Nick comforting Jess in her room. Giggling at the Jordan Catalano joke, you tried your best to focus on the screen and not the piercing blue eyed gaze that seemed to be studying your face. And, like you always did when you got to this scene, you bit your lip to supress a grin as Nick delivered his next line.

“The only thing that matters is that the guy is there for you when you need him. Otherwise, you’re dating a wall.”

“Are you even paying attention, Bow? That’s like, my favorite line. What I wouldn’t give to have someone love me the way Nick loves Jess.” You sighed, settling further against Bowen as the episode continued on. He didn’t say anything in response, other than a quiet hum, but for the rest of the episode you could practically hear the gears turning inside his head as he turned his attention to the screen.

Netflix automatically continued on to the next episode, but as soon as the intro started Bowen’s hand shot out and paused the show. You looked at him curiously; the two of you usually got through at least a couple of episodes whenever you hung out like you were then.

“You know…” Bowen started, trailing off before he finished his thought. He wasn’t meeting your gaze, and it was clear that what he wanted to say was on the tip of his tongue so you stayed silent while he found his words. “I’m always there for you.”

You felt your heart stop beating and skip three beats all at once. You weren’t sure where he was going with his train of thought, but if you had to guess you would be getting your hopes up. Because there was absolutely no way that he felt the same for you that Nick does for Jess.

“Yeah, you are…” You breathed, trying to get him to meet your gaze but instead he stayed focused on your comforter pulled over both of your laps. The hand that wasn’t around your shoulders was toying with the fabric, and in a bid to calm him down enough to get him to say what he needed you slipped your hand into his. Bowen drew in a steadying breath and finally met your gaze, a dozen and one emotions swirling behind his eyes.

“I love you, you know.” He said firmly, like there was no question about it in the slightest and not the very words you had been dying to hear from him for years. You nodded, unable to form words but not wanting to leave him hanging.

You supposed you did know that he loved you. He showed it in his blatant affection and the frequent texts about how his life was going. He cared for you, there was no doubt about it, but you had never let yourself believe that he meant anything more than friendship. And now he was offereing everything you’d ever wanted on a silver platter.

“Bowen,” You started, but you couldn’t find the words to tell him just how much you loved him back. Instead, you moved the hand that wasn’t wrapped up in his to rest on Bowen’s jaw, turning his head just slightly so that you could press your lips to yours in a long awaited kiss that stole your breath.

Kissing Bowen felt so much better than what you imagined. The angle was a little odd and your neck was craned to face him, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You’d share a thousand more awkwardly positioned kisses if it meant you got to be with Bowen.

You were the first to pull away, but you didn’t move far, wide grins on both of your faces as you took in the events of the past few moments. Your friendship was definitely changed, and in place was a relationship that you had been hoping for.

“I love you, too.” You finally mumbled. You wanted to tell him how you had loved him from the moment you met, how he made you fall in love with him with each and every day, but for the moment all that mattered was he knew you loved him just the same as he loved you.

“I hope, or else this is going to be awkward.” He mumbled playfully, leaning in again to close the distance between the two of you. You couldn’t help but chuckle against him, your hand slipping from his jaw to curve around the back of his neck in order to deepen the kiss.

Bowen was the Nick to your Jess, and not a day went by that you weren’t greatful for him.

[marvelousell]

Can I request a smut oneshot about Tom? He's going rough on her and tied her up. He even uses toys like a whip and so on. And then he hurts her accidently and she can't say the save word because of a reason you can choose and then she starts to cry and he realises what he had done and is so sorry and she even has handprints on her body the next morning and he does everything to make it better

Kiss it better

A/N: This big piece of work made me tear up a little bit, we all know Tom is a real gentleman 🥺

Warnings: SMUT 18+, angst

Your and Tom’s sex life was anything but vanilla. That wasn’t a secret anyway. Yes, you do enjoyed slow, sensual sex, but this precise things got you both very excited. You being his obedient girl.

Everything was strictly consensual. You both were into this, having a chat before all of that even started. He knew what you liked, and agreed on, and he always made sure you were okay with that, before and especially during sex.

Well today was a bit different.

It was 7 pm by now. The sun now long gone. You were lying on your couch, still waiting for Tom, who was probably stuck at work. The faint sound of the dull rom-com was replaced with a roaring slam of the front door.

Uh oh someone had a crappy day.

Your expression puzzled, but still blank.

His jaw was clenching hard. His eyes now searching yours. The usual pair of soft brown eyes were replaced by a pair of much more darker and furious ones.

You knew that someone must’ve struck his nerve at work.

It wasn’t the first time. He needed a relief.

“You. Bed. Now.” He broke the eye contact removing his watch and coat.

Your marched into your shared bedroom, pulling your large t-shirt away. Sitting on your legs, in only your half soaked panties, you couldn’t hide the accelerated heartbeat of yours.

You loved angry Tom. The excitement was making you aroused more and more every second.

Your mind was running absolutely wild. You knew you needed to listen and behave. Oh but you needed a small touch right now.

Your hand now cupping your heat, while the other one was playing with your nipple.

“You can’t listen to an order, hm?” His voice harsh. Your breath shortened.

“No one really listens. I’m really not a fan of that.” Stripping himself, he came near you, only to push you flat on your stomach.

“Hands behind.” He tied your hands as tight as he could.

He was angry, his co-workers making him feel like a fool.

The sound of him searching for something in the drawers, made you shuffle.

His legs parted yours, making himself comfortable between you. The buzzing of the toy started echoing, making you hide your face into the pillow.

The toy was now placed on your clit, and while you were focusing on the pleasure it was giving you, Tom slammed into you without a single warning making you gasp from the slight pain.

Tom buried himself inside of you, now taking the whip, stroking it gently on your right cheek.

The cold sensation on your warm skin made you shiver. Once again without a warning he slapped you with it, making you jump. He was now fully into it, slapping you as hard as ever, starting a pool of tears in your eyes.

The toy was doing its job, your walls tightening around him. He could feel it, his movements fast, removing the toy and himself from you.

“Now, now, only good girls can cum isn’t that true?” His palm landing on your ass harshly a few times. You tried to free your hands, unsuccessfully, only to feel the material burning into your wrists.

The edging went on and on, he would slam into you so hard, mixing the pain with the need for your release.

It was all to much.

“Tom.” You said through the tears.

“Don’t want to hear a word from you sweetie, be a good girl for once.” Moving his free palm to shut you up, and if he did that you would shatter, the sex wasn’t enjoyable at all at the moment.

You needed him to stop. But the safe word for the two of you, that was tap twice on my thigh to stop, was in this situation not effective.

“Tom, s-stop, RED.” You shouted in tears, turning your head from him.

“Fucking hell.” He began untying you.

The crying and aching in-between your thighs was horrible. The whole scene was a disaster. He went to far at this point. His eyes watering seeing you hurt, and the hurting coming from him, made his heart split into pieces.

“Baby, I-I’m, fuck come here I’m so fucking sorry.” He was now so gentle, afraid that he would break you.

Still crying in his arms, he placed you on the pillows, dressing you up.

“I can’t-I, words can’t describe how much of an idiot I am. I’m truly sorry.”

“I was so selfish taking the anger out on you, without asking if anything was okay with you. Hell baby you know how much I love you. Let me take care of you.” He pleaded, eyes full of regret.

“It’s okay Tom. Just a little bit too much for me.” You sniffled.

“I know love I’m a fucking prick, let me run us a nice bath, and afterwards I will make you your favourite tea and we can cuddle all night on the couch. Yeah?” He insisted to make things better.

“That sounds lovely.”

The next morning, the remaining pain woke you up.

You tried the best not to wake Tom up, but it looked like he was wide awake for a while now.

The guilt was eating him up. The purple bruises that were now showing on your wrists and bum, made him realise how much of an egocentric he was the previous night.

“My love…” Taking your hands into his, kissing them gently.

“I’m once again so sorry, this isn’t me, that’s all I wanted you to know. Im genuinely sorry.” He repeated himself many times.

“It’s fine, really Tommy. We sorted it all yesterday.” You grabbed his face, searching for his eyes to look at you.

“I love you, and I will show you how much. This day is just about you my love.” He kissed you passionately, embracing you in a big soft cuddle.

[megalony]

I want a baby

This is a new murderer! Ben Hardy imagine that was inspired by ‘The time Traveler’s wife’ and there will be a follow-up part to this. I hope you all will like it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @peterquillzsblog @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Murderer! Ben masterlist

Warning: Detailed scene of miscarriage.

Summary: Ben and (Y/n) are trying for a baby but things don’t go smoothly when (Y/n) suffers a few bad miscarriages.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was finally home.

She could hear the sound of his shoes hitting the wall when dug his toes into the back of his shoe to kick it off his foot and into its rightful place up against the wall near to the front door. The usual thud of his jacket followed the sound of his shoes and the jingling of the many keys on his chain being dropped into the dish near the door.

The sound of his feet hit the stairs and made the floorboards groan under his harsh footing and weight. He never seemed to be able to walk lightly even if he was following someone, his feet automatically slammed down like he was trying to make imprints no matter what surface he was walking on. Not that (Y/n) really minded, the way he walked was unique and told her it was her husband that was home and he always seemed to walk in beat with a heartbeat.

(Y/n) didn't bother to open her eyes when she heard him getting closer and closer to their shared room, she decided to wait and see what he would do if he thought she was asleep. They both knew well enough that (Y/n) hardly ever went to sleep without him unless she waited up so long and fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion, and those days were rare. It took a lot out of her to stop herself from smiling when the door opened and she could hear his slow breaths filling the room.

It was as if (Y/n) could actually feel his surprise when his eyes set on her and saw that she was sleeping even with the lamp turned on very low.

(Y/n) tensed her legs to stop them from moving and giving away the game that she wasn't really asleep, she had only been resting her tired eyes when Ben finally came home. She wasn't mad at him for staying out, it was unnatural for Ben to come home at a reasonable time when he had been at work and she understood what he did for a living and it meant he was sometimes stolen from her for a while. She was never mad at him for staying at work late, even if Ben sometimes got mad at himself for it.

She could feel his weight pressing down on his side of the bed behind her and she could hear the little pops of the buttons on his shirt that he was taking off. (Y/n) felt the bed lift ever so lightly before quickly settling back down when he moved to take off his socks and trousers before climbing into bed behind her, still under the impression that she was asleep.

For a moment, (Y/n) thought Ben was just going to lie down and try to fall asleep since it took him a while to calm his mind enough to fall asleep. But his arm soon found its way around her waist and she could feel his chest pressing up against her back.

When a kiss was slowly pressed to the back of her neck, a smile formed on (Y/n)'s lips and she had to fight to keep her eyes closed when he was making the blood rush to her head and her skin tickle. He kept lingering kisses against her neck before peppering open-mouthed kisses down the back of her neck and along to her shoulder causing (Y/n)'s smile to disappear so he would still think she was asleep. After a little while, his lips moved back up to her neck until he reached just under her jaw.

"I know you're awake." He murmured the words quietly against her skin, feeling the way the muscles in her neck pulled up when she swallowed before her eyes slowly fluttered open like butterfly wings. "I can practically hear your heartbeat, baby." He added when he could see her questioning how he knew, but there was no smug tone to his voice like she thought there would have been.

(Y/n) lifted her hand from the bed to gently brush over Ben's cheek before her fingers trailed down to play with the silver chain hanging around his neck. With the kind of job and business Ben had, he didn't like too many people knowing that he was married. He had too many enemies and he couldn't have them knowing his weakness because it put (Y/n) in danger so instead of wearing his wedding ring on his finger, he wore it around a chain on his neck. Only Ben's workers at the club knew about (Y/n) and that Ben was married and that was the way it had to stay.

"I missed you." (Y/n) twirled the silver chain around her finger before looping Ben's ring onto her middle finger, marvelling at how wide it was and how it would never manage to stay on her finger for more than a few seconds.

"Hm, good." Ben's response was quiet but his words were cocky as he trailed his kisses up her jaw before his hands moved and he slowly turned (Y/n) over so she was laying on her back. Giving him the opportunity to move and lay over her, resting his weight on his forearms that were resting next to her shoulders, pinning her beneath him like she was his prey.

"Charming." (Y/n)'s tired eyes looked up into his as he grinned, momentarily stopping his kisses so he could watch her play with the ring hanging around his neck. When (Y/n) held his ring on her finger up for him to see, he quirked a brow before pulling on the chain, slipping it from her finger so he could put it on his own. Seeing him wear the ring around his neck made (Y/n) smile because it was like she was his secret he didn't want to share, but seeing the ring on his finger always made her heart jump in her chest and he knew it.

"You should miss me, it shows how much you love me. Plus, being away all day means I can come home and do this." Their voices didn't go above whispers but they had no need to speak any louder.

Ben's words made (Y/n) smile and caused her eyes to roll even though she knew he was right. She wouldn't miss him as much if she didn't love him the way she did and it definitely was nice when she hadn't seen him all day for him to come home and be affectionate like this. This was the usual routine if he was away all day and (Y/n) was still awake, he would come home and worm his way into her arms and never let her leave his embrace until the morning. He wrapped himself around her like a vine and she loved it.

Ben slipped the ring off his finger and let fall down and sway against his chest before he leaned down to steal a kiss from her lips. When he pulled up for air, his eyes narrowed and an inquisitive smile formed on his lips when he noticed the look in her eyes as she cupped his face. There was something on her mind or something that she wanted to tell him.

"I want a baby."

In her head that sounded much kinder and more of a conversation starter than a statement she expected Ben to go along with. She didn't want to blurt it out like that but she also didn't want to beat about the bush this late at night.

(Y/n) could see the surprise in Ben's eyes and the smile on his lips at how blunt she was but he wasn't offended by it thankfully.

"Are you asking me or telling me, love?" Ben didn't really mind either way because it was clear (Y/n) wanted to talk about this, she wasn't just putting it out there and expecting him to go along with it. This was up for discussion so asking or telling him what she wanted wasn't an issue.

"Both... what do you think? I really want to try for a baby."

"I think you must be mad to want a baby with me, but I'll go along with it if you're sure... after last time-" No more words could pass through Ben's lips before (Y/n) was pulling him down by his cheeks so she could press a bruising kiss to his lips.

Ben knew their must be something wrong with (Y/n)'s morality for her to be in love with him. He was bad news, he was a killer and he hurt and threatened and blackmailed people, he wasn't the kind of husband she should have or that she deserved. But he couldn't have been more relieved that she had chosen him and had stayed with him.

A baby was foreign territory to Ben, not to say that he didn't want a child, it just wasn't something he would ever have thought about before (Y/n) came along considering what he did for a living. But he knew deep down a baby with (Y/n) was something he could see in his future and it was certainly something he knew (Y/n) had her heart set on. He just hoped it would be different than last time.

They hadn't exactly been trying for a baby last time, it had been out of the blue and (Y/n) miscarried at two months anyway. As long as this time went better, Ben could see no problems with adding to their numbers.

(Y/n) couldn't help but hold her breath when Ben's lips moved from her own, down her chin and back down her neck. He felt the way her chest shuddered beneath his lips and how she kept taking short breaths and holding her breath for a long time like he was very used to by now. It was like she didn't know what he was going to do next and so held her breath in anticipation and he loved it. Ben loved having that hold over her and the ability to take her breath away without having to do very much.

When he started to pepper kisses down the valley of her breasts he could feel her stomach tensing and pulling inwards too as her hand knotted in his hair, needing something to hold on to.

"Let's have a baby."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His socks padded quiet yet heavily against the soft carpet that felt like sand enveloping around his feet until he felt like he was going to slip beneath the floorboards and down into the living room below. There was nothing more he wanted than to strip from the constricting clothing he wore and to jump into bed with his girl.

Ben was rather surprised (Y/n) was in bed even though it was gone midnight. Whenever he worked late like this- and he tried to make it as little as possible, she waited up for him for as long as she could until she physically dropped. Something about sleeping on her own set her on edge, she had to have Ben there to get a proper nights sleep and he wasn't complaining, as long as (Y/n) was there Ben could sleep anywhere at any given time.

He tried to be as quiet as he could when he walked into their shared room and very slowly pushed the door shut so the hinges didn't squeak and giveaway what time he was coming home. It wasn't like this was a rare thing, Ben's usual time to come back from the club was anywhere between eight at night and four in the morning. But he never liked being home this late, it made him feel bad if (Y/n) was waiting up for him and he felt even worse when he realised she was already asleep.

With this being his routine, Ben could easily get changed and walk around the bedroom without needing any lights turned on. He knew where the wardrobe was, the chest of drawers was next to the door and there was a chair near to the window where they both placed their clothes ready for morning.

Ben trudged around to his side of the bed before slowly easing himself down until he was sat on the edge, his eyes sneaking a quick glance over at (Y/n) who was sound asleep, as she should be at this hour. The moment he felt the mattress beneath him he wanted to flop down and collapse as the mattress brought the exhaustion to his bones. He shrugged off the now itchy black button up shirt he had adorned all day and tossed it down onto the floor, doing the same with his socks before a sigh left his lips. He couldn't be bothered to go into the hall to put them in the wash basket, nor could he really be bothered to grab some sleep shorts or a shirt.

Without taking off his trousers or even his belt, Ben threw the covers aside so he could lay down. He knew his mind was far too active for him to fall asleep then and there despite how tired and groggy his eyelids felt. He'd remove his uncomfortable trousers when he had the energy, right now he just wanted to let the bed hold his weight for a change and let his muscles relax.

A minute ticked by that felt like an hour to Ben as sleep desperately clawed at his mind, fighting his willpower that was keeping him awake so that he could think for a while longer.

He liked this, Ben liked having a few minutes in the dead of night- or early morning, and being surrounded by quiet. The club was anything but quiet with the sounds of men being punched and teeth being broken or flung out from gums. The sounds of blood splattering onto the floor and groans and shouts always filled the air and a lot of the time the distant sound of a radio could be heard in the background. Not to mention Ben or a few other people trying to coach a fight and tell a man where to punch to knock down his opponent.

Ben liked coming home and laying in the silence and the dark like this, it allowed his mind to rest and recover and it let him think about things over than the club. And when he had (Y/n) laid beside him it further calmed him down. (Y/n) always had the ability to calm him down even when he didn't know what was wrong himself.

Ben's left hand rested on his lower stomach where he could feel one of his tattoos beneath his fingertips which absentmindedly started to trace around the design he'd had there for roughly four years now. Ben had too many tattoos to count at this point, one of his favourites was the one of (Y/n)'s name inked onto his wrist. He knew now that (Y/n) was pregnant, when they had the baby he would have another name to add to his collection of ink on his skin. But that was months away.

As he laid thinking about anything and everything, he just so happened to move his right hand to rest beside him on the bed under the cover and it sparked his mind to wake up from his drowsy state.

The bed sheets were wet.

Ben had only just laid down and it hadn't been raining outside so that was nothing to do with him and the room wasn't anywhere near hot enough for (Y/n) to be sweating or in a cold sweat in her sleep. His confusion brought him out of his thoughts and he groggily sat himself up, leaning over to his left so he could turn on the bedside lamp.

He ran his hand through his hair to brush a few stray hairs from his eyes but Ben felt a shiver crawling ungodly slowly up his spine when his hand left his hair and came within his line of sight. Grabbing the cover, Ben aimlessly flung it towards the end of the bed around his feet so it wouldn't be an obstruction as realisation and terror dawned on him. (Y/n) wasn't sweating, the bed sheets were drenched in blood.

Ben's throat tightened and his lips curved like he was frowning or snarling when he realised that there was a repulsive smell in the air, it was iron and copper from the blood. His nose crinkled at the smell that was now overwhelming his senses and burning the back of his throat. How could he not have noticed the smell lingering in the air? Ben was around the stench of blood almost all the time when he was at work, men got punched and beaten and blood splattered from cuts, from their noses, their eyes and their mouths and lips.

And if it wasn't the men boxing that caused the stench of blood, it was Ben putting a knife or a bullet into someone. He could always see vividly the people he killed and the pool of blood they normally laid in, the smell was a normality for him. Why didn't he smell it when he laid down?

It was everywhere. The blood was smeared on his hand, it had grazed onto his right arm from him leaning it on the bed, it was spread across the whole middle of the bed and what made Ben gag was seeing blood on the pillow beneath (Y/n)'s head. She was laid in a C shape, curling her legs up to her stomach with her arms coiled to her chest, not knowing she was sleeping in a pool of blood. All the blood was situated around (Y/n), specifically her lower half so it was very clear which one of them was in trouble and where the trouble was coming from.

When Ben reached out for her he choked when he could even see blood in her hair.

How long had she been bleeding out in her sleep? Why wasn't she awake and in pain or crying or feeling something? How had it gotten like this and she hadn't woken up and noticed- why didn't he notice when he came in?

"(Y/n)... (Y/n) baby you need to wake up." Ben rubbed his thumb over her cheek as his other hand shook her shoulder with a growing force to try and wake her up.

Relief swarmed through Ben's tight chest when (Y/n)'s head jolted forward a bit and her eyes tiredly started to open and look around, adjusting to the orange light cascading the room. A small hum left her lips as she craned her head to look at Ben over her shoulder who looked like some kind of angel or demon hovering over her, she couldn't decide which. The worry on his face made her heart race and he could see the iron smell flooding her nose when it crinkled and her brows furrowed at the smell she couldn't work out.

"Baby, you're not very well. Come on, we've got to get you up." He could see his words were making little sense to (Y/n) as her eyes narrowed and creased at the corners and her head shook ever so slightly. It was like she was trying to smile out of nervousness as if she thought he was playing a joke on her but something was telling her she couldn't smile because she knew deep down that something was wrong.

Ben didn't wait any longer for a response, he simply slipped his arms under her until he could ease her into a sitting position. The amount of blood she seemed to have lost and having just woken up made her groggy and her head swayed like it was too heavy for her to hold up on her own.

Ben knew that the moment (Y/n) caught sight of the amount of blood she had lost, she would fall into a state of shock and it would make her panic when he wanted and needed her to be calm. He tried to keep her eyes focused on him as he quickly scrambled across to her side of the bed before he got off the bed and attempted to try and get (Y/n) to stand up with him. He needed to get her to the hospital because he had no idea how long she had been bleeding for or if there was anything wrong other than the obvious miscarriage.

"Baby, just look at me and trust me, okay?"

His efforts to keep her eyes on him were in vain for when he got (Y/n) to sit on the edge of the bed, something caught her eye. He stopped moving and anything else he was about to say died down in his throat when he realised her eyes had found a strand of hair hanging at the side of her face that was damp and matted together with blood.

It felt like everything was in slow motion for the couple as Ben watched (Y/n) reach a shaking hand up to her hair and rub her finger and thumb at the strands before moving her hand.

"Ben..." The terror in her voice was as clear as day because she didn't know or understand how she could have gotten blood in her hair when she hadn't hit her head or cut her hands or arms. There was nothing wrong or in pain to suggest why her hair had streaks of blood in his like highlights.

"(Y/n) I need you to stand up."

Tears of fear welled up in (Y/n)'s eyes as she stared at her husband who looked so perplexed and conflicted. He wanted to take charge, he wanted to give her an order and have her follow it and that was clear by the stern tone of his voice. But the gentle edge to his voice and the look in his eyes showed he was scared for her and he wanted so badly to just take her in his arms and hold her.

Ben couldn't tell her she'd lost a worrisome amount of blood due to a very evident miscarriage because he couldn't break her like that. Ben couldn't say those words and see what it did to his wife but saying nothing was panicking her more than he wanted it to.

Maybe it would have been better if she stayed asleep, he could have carried her out to the car and driven her to the hospital without her seeing the amount of blood she'd lost or knowing what was going on. That would have been easier for her.

Ben hooked his arms around her middle, splaying his hands on her upper chest before he tried his best to be gentle when pulling (Y/n) up onto her feet.

It almost worked.

He had (Y/n) up on her feet and he held most of her weight when she seemed to wobble and be unsteady. He walked back a few steps, pulling her along with him to get her out of the room and he almost got her to focus on him. But when her eyes looked down to Ben's shirt that she was wearing to bed and saw how it looked like it had been dyed red, her head turned to look at the bed.

"Baby no-"

Ben's hand let go of her back and pressed to her cheek to try and turn her head back to him but he couldn't do it in time. Her eyes were already looking at the pale grey sheets that were now burnt vermilion and cherry blossom red.

It was as if (Y/n) had woken up from a dream. Her trembling hand left Ben's arm and moved to feel her hair at the back of her head before shakily feeling down her neck, then scrunching up the shirt in her hand before she looked at her palm that was streaked with blood. Red was all (Y/n) could see. Her vision wasn't full of colour or reduced to black and white, it was sheathed in a layer of red like someone was holding a dark red sweetie wrapper in front of her eyes to make the world around her blushing red.

A horrid, broken yet so quiet sound scratched and cracked against the back of (Y/n)'s throat and clawed against her chapped lips as her eyes wide with pain and fear locked onto Ben like he was a lighthouse during a storm. Her hands dug down into his biceps, painting one of his bare arms red and digging crescent moons into both arms from the force she was holding him with to stop herself from collapsing.

Ben's mouth opened like he wanted to echo her scream back to her but no sound left his lips, he didn't know what to say for the first time. He always had a snarky, cheeky, rude or loving comment to respond to (Y/n) or anyone, he was never short for something to say even if it was just to bite back horrid spittle words that cut through people without him needing to put any emotion into them. But he had nothing to say that could make this situation any easier for either of them.

He watched in agony as some kind of pain either came flooding back to (Y/n) or she only now realised that there was pain somewhere in her body that she had been ignoring. Her jaw slacked and he could see her tongue tensing against the bottom of her mouth before a small, shattered cry of pain left her lips just as her head tipped down and her wide eyes snapped closed.

It was as if a fire had suddenly erupted in (Y/n)'s abdomen and the shock of the pain sent her knees buckling beneath her like broken matchsticks. Her knees caved in, thrusting all of her weight onto Ben who didn't know what else to do but to go down on his knees on the carpet with (Y/n) huddled brokenly against his chest.

(Y/n) could feel every drop of blood both fresh and dried that was painted onto her skin like drying paint and she hated it. How had she bled that much without knowing? She was fine when she went to bed, she hadn't been bleeding or in any sort of pain and she hadn't passed out from bloodloss, she had been perfectly fine.

"I need to take you to-" Ben couldn't get the words out quick enough before (Y/n) cried out, curling in on herself and forcing her knees up into her stomach like he was going to help or relieve the pain.

Ben had seen people die in front of him, he caused most of those deaths that he witnessed. It never bothered him to see people with a limb missing or a bullet hole here and there or someone battered and broken to the point of no recognition. That was his life, that was what he looked at and dealt with throughout the years of being who he was.

But in all those years, he'd never seen something remotely close to what he was seeing now. He'd never seen something so small, so odd and so gut-wrenching like the blood-covered creation (Y/n) was holding in the palm of her hand like she was willing it to be alright or holding it out for Ben to try and make better. But Ben's hands could never make a child so small come to life, his hands were the hands of the grim reaper, they stole life and they caused pain and broken bones and haemorrhages like what (Y/n) was suffering. Ben's hands did no good and if he dared to try and take hold of the creation in (Y/n)'s hands he would turn that to ash just like everything else.

The broken sob that left (Y/n)'s lips sounded like a howl in Ben's ears and it left him paralysed. He had to get up, he had to take (Y/n) to the hospital before she passed out or got an infection or something much worse. He had to take her now because she was in a worse state than he would ever have imagined, but he couldn't move.

All he could do was wrap his arms tightly around her and hug her broken frame to his bare chest. His short nails dug into her upper arm and his other hand dug into the flesh of her thigh, cradling her against him like she was the broken child that needed caring for.

Neither of them could feel the blood that was covering them like they'd had a fight with paint. All they felt was numb.

[ajokeformur-ray]

okay so what about getting asleep on the sofa while watching TV and then he wakes you up to go to bed and he's just so happy you're by his side that he dances with you around the room like he does with penny and you're still sleepy and you murmur 'we better dance like this at our wedding, future husband' hhhhf im SOFT

I’m soft omg this is the life ????? also I love that shoulder thing he does in this scene ugh. He’s such a cutie pie.

Warnings: swearing, smoking (why do I still bother tagging these?) and implied nsfw at the end. You may need to bite a pillow to keep from squealing, this is soft.

word count: 1, 981.

The Arthur Fleck/Joker Defense Squad @writings-of-a-gen-z @x-avantgarde-x @mapreza1 @insomniabird@mavalenovaninagavi @itwasrealenough @morrisonmercurymalek  @rand0ms-fand0ms @rafaelina-casillas @aclownthing @rebs-doom @vivft@help-i-am-obssessed @autumnaffection @taintednihilist @vladtoly @mg-woolf99 @misstgrey92 @that-s-life @dopey-girl-blogs @seeking-dreamland @sweetheart-syndrome @heartxfdesire @xmusichealsthesoulx @0callmejude0 @the-one-that-likes-riddles @hannibalsslut @folliaght @freeeshavacadoo @bingewatchingmylifegoby @unlovedbyeveryoneandeverything @okamiredfoxx @sp0okysp0oky @the-pandorabox @mardema @jibanyyan @honeyflvredcoughdrop @emissarydecksetter @jokerfleckk @epidendroideae @chuuntas @stillmabel @pumpkinpeyes@onehystericalqueenposts @the-jokers-wolf @nalsswa @justahyena @arianatheangelworld @soullessblondbitch @gothamslittlejester @twentyonestarrynights @sirianfromsixties

You were exhausted.

All day had you had to be in contact with people. You hadn’t had a free moment to yourself. Even when you had gone outside your university to have a cigarette, people had wanted stuff to do with you. It hadn’t been more than an hour since leaving the apartment building that you had wanted to go home again. At least Arthur didn’t socially wear you out; one look at you and it seemed like he could read your entire mood, and know what to do to be around you peacefully, without causing you any sort of distress. He was an actual angel and you didn’t know where you would be without him. Your entire life revolved around Arthur, and though you knew that that was mildly unhealthy, you also knew that you wouldn’t have it any other way. He was the kind of man to demand that all eyes were on him. He was unaware of the beauty of his own self, and that only increased his allure, somehow.

When Arthur had finally come home from work late in the evening, just as tired and worn down as you were, you had already been curled up on the sofa, ready to go to sleep. Instead, however, you had jumped up with more physical energy than you thought you had left in you, such was the effect he had on you, and reheated his dinner, spoken to Arthur about his day, and made him feel loved. Loving Arthur Fleck was a gift, but it seemed almost surreal for him to love you back just as hard, if not even more than you loved him. He felt deeply, which meant that he hurt deeply, and rarely could he experience a single day without another punch to the face. Sometimes, life expressed that particular sentiment physically, and you were always there with a gentle touch to patch up his wounds. It was the emotional ones which required more tender loving care, and you only gladly obliged. He deserved the entire fucking world, and though you couldn’t physically give it to him, you could make him feel like he was on top of it.

When at last all your daily responsibilities, stresses and duties had been tended to, Arthur had invited you to sit beside him on the sofa. The Murray show was on, but you weren’t concentrating on it. Not only did you not like the host - he was a rude man who preyed on other people to get a cued laugh from the paid audience and sometimes you found yourself wishing that someone would just permanently shut him up - but you were just so tired. You leaned easily against Arthur’s upper arm, feeling his body heat radiate through his thin cotton shirt. Naturally did his arm curl around your shoulders, pulling you snugly against him. You shifted so that you were pressed completely against his side, his body warding off the chill in the apartment; the heating was just too expensive, even and most especially given that it was winter and therefore, the government could get away with putting up the prices because of the ‘supply and demand’. It was bullshit, but what could you do? You were a working class citizen working to the bone just to survive and therefore, you had no real voice and no power of your own.

You were asleep before you knew it. The scent of cigarette smoke kept your own nicotine craving at bay, and the feeling of Arthur pressed tightly against you and the gentle smell of his cologne kept you in that secured lull which promised a good night’s sleep in preparation for all that was waiting for you tomorrow. You couldn’t wait for Sunday; it was your Day with Arthur. Once a week, every Sunday, did you only make plans for each other. You didn’t leave the apartment on Sundays, anything important could wait until the following day, and so you were left to indulge in each other in whatever means were most appealing on that day. Often, you stayed in the bedroom and played card games, smoking together and watching Charlie Chaplin re-runs.

The first thing that you became distantly aware of was that the bed you were lying against was moving in a steady rise and fall. There was a rumbling just under your ear and then Arthur’s gentle, patient tone threatened to send you right back to sleep.

“Y/N, darling. Come on, it’s time for bed.”

You groaned. “Nope. Sleeping. Shush.”

Another rumble ran through Arthur’s chest and bubbled up and out of his throat, the sound creating a lovely laugh. You adored it when he laughed genuinely. It was such a rare sound and you cherished it, so different was it to the terrifying attacks he so often experienced. 

“No,” Arthur hummed, “You gotta help me get you to bed. I can’t carry you.”

You sighed sleepily and sat up. Arthur laughed both at the expression on your face and the way your hair was sticking up on one side, laying completely flat on the other. 

“Sleepy head.” He teased, his eyes soft and full of love for you. The harsh blue light from the television screen illuminated the dark circles under his green eyes, and you felt guilty. Had you kept him awake while he waited for you to stir?

You stood, taking Arthur’s hand, and he pulled you close to his chest, swaying with you. He spun you slowly, a sweet smile on his face. His hair was fluffy, freshly washed, the dark curls framing either side of his forehead. His waistcoat was perfectly matched with his trousers, and he looked so ethereal. He was heaven sent. As he pulled you close again to dance with you without music, your sleep addled brain failed to consider the potential consequences of your next words.

“I want to dance like this with you at our wedding, future husband.” Your eyes were already sliding shut as you relaxed against his chest.

Time seemed to stop as your words seeped into your brain. Arthur froze and you even felt him stop breathing.

You weren’t tired any more as reality doused you awake just as surely as a cold bucket of water tipped over you would. You stared at Arthur’s still chest, not blinking, your entire body trained on the person in front of you, his hands still tightly gripping you.

A shuddered inhale. A bubble of quiet laughter. Silence.

“What… what did you just say?”

You dared to look up into those beautiful green eyes you so adored. You had memorised that face so well that you could recall it perfectly even in your sleep. Many a night had you fallen asleep staring at it, hoping that its features would find you in your dreams.

Little did you know that your wildest dreams weren’t inside your mind, but physically present in the bed with you.

“What is your shirt made of?” You reached out and plucked the sleeve of his shirt between your thumb and forefinger. You had a reason for the apparent sudden change in topic. You would make your point known in all the ways you could think of. It was the least you could do for Arthur.

“No, Y/N, what did you - “

“I’m getting there.” You smiled patiently, pleading with him inside your mind to go along with you.

Arthur nodded, sighed and seemed to accept that you would repeat yourself when you had had your fun as, with a slight bite of impatience, he said, “I don’t know, cotton or something. Please tell me what you said.” His voice was quieter towards the end of the sentence. Did he think it was a joke to you?

You shook your head and made sure to look him straight in the eyes. “No.” You disagreed. “It’s made of husband material.”

You saw some pre-existing spark in his eyes explode into a fire as the most beautiful smile lit up Arthur’s entire face like a christmas tree. You hadn’t intended to say this here and now, but your mouth had made the decision for you, as it so often did when you were tired. Actually, scrap that - your mouth often made your decisions for you, and your brain was left to figure out the aftermath. Your brain to mouth filter had always been faulty, even more so when you were tired.

“Wait here.” Quick as a flash were you gone, disappeared into the bedroom. You left Arthur’s arms feeling empty with naught for company but the ghost of your touch. Like a whirlwind, you were back just as quickly as you had gone. 

In your hand was a small black box, which was clenched painfully in your grip. Ready? Go!

“Here.”

You handed it to a wide eyed Arthur. His hands were shaking and nearly did he drop the box. He sought to cup it in his hands. “W-what… I don’t -” Laughter. Cruel and painful laughter ripped its way out of your love’s throat, making him cross his arms over his shoulders as he buried his face in the material of his work shirt. He doubled over, turned his back to you, and violent chuckles threatened to destroy the very gentle, loving atmosphere that had naturally occurred when the two of you were together. 

You put a hand on his back, rubbing up and down his spine, feeling the different vertebrae through his clothing. You said nothing, you only stayed, and that meant so much more to Arthur than anything else that you could have done. Guilt racked him as he squeezed his eyes shut. He had ruined the moment. You had just presented your future together to him on a silver platter, the entire scene practically gift wrapped in its perfection, and he had ruined it with his condition. As he quieted to hiccups and straightened up, breathing in deeply, you said, “Don’t you dare think you’ve ruined anything, Arthur.”

He hiccuped, “But - “

“No.” You smiled gently to take the bite out of your words, and pulled him into a hug. Immediately did your fingers find the dark curls at the nape of his neck. Arthur’s head sunk down onto your shoulders, taller than you was he, and he pressed his nose into your jugular. His lips soothed the day’s tension away, and you allowed him to lavish you with kisses.

Slowly did you realise that he hadn’t answered your question.

“Arthur.”

Something in your voice caught his attention and he straightened up.

“Are you gonna’ answer my question?”

“Wait… you weren’t. You weren’t joking?” He was so incredulous, so disbelieving, that you couldn’t help it. Your jaw dropped. Did he really think so little of himself? You didn’t even need to think about it. Yes. Yes, he did.

“I would never fucking do that.”

Arthur looked down to the floor in shame, and you found the fallen box - he must have dropped it during his sudden attack - and picked it up, dusting it off. You opened it to reveal a set of modest antique rings. It was the best you could afford. The design was plain and simple but elegant. 

“So, how about it? Will you marry me, Arthur?”

The ferocity with which he kissed you took you aback, as again and again did he mumble “yes” against your lips. Your legs somehow found his waist, and it was with speedy movements and little care for the late hour that you showed Arthur just how much you had meant your question. The rings lay abandoned on the living room table; you would put them on each other tomorrow. For now, you would consummate the as yet unofficial but official vow to love each other in sickness and in health, ‘til death do you part.

[enderspawn]

♫ techno?

YES

Anti-Hero – Sekai No Owari

Glory and Gore – Lorde

more details down below the read more

okay listen I know a lot of techno cosplayers use the chorus of anti-hero but IT’S THE VERSES THAT MAKE IT A TECHNO SONG!!! So im gonna focus mainly on that

“You know I don't give a damn about what's "right" Or pleasing everyone around me Cause I know this world that brought us life Wasn't made to keep everyone happy”

Techno doesn’t care about what other ppl see as right, he cares about what he does as right. He KNOWS he’s not a hero, he’s fine being the villain bc in his eyes he’s doing the right thing in the end. Not everyone’s gonna be happy w what he does but fuck them, bc theres no ending where EVERYONE is happy.

“The rules and laws that countries come up with In front of me, they're all shit Cause there are people that I've gotta protect And if you get in my way, you're dead”

Okay ppl literally made up rules, laws, AND a country all in front of him and he think’s its shit like. Yep that’s the line! Also…. He would absolutely kill anyone and everyone for those he cares abt and protects. “for you the world, phil” and all that. Part of why I think he went thru w obliterating l’manberg was, as well as being a government and unfairly trying to execute him, they punished phil for his involvement w techno. Fuck that.

“You see I'm tired of trying to justify Every decision that I make If it's to save the people that I stand by You better believe what I say”

He genuinely believes government corrupts. By destroying it, he thinks that he is helping in the end but its hard to JUSTIFY, esp to the ppl he’s killing. He’s doing what he thinks he has to in order to save those he loves (which isn’t limited to phil tbh. Even when allied w tommy he wanted to destroy lmanberg to save HIM too.)

“ "Stay in the lines, don't make a scene" Heroes try to tell us what's right But when push comes to shove, you'll know what I mean I'm ready to start a fight”

He WILL break the law and you CAN NOT stop him fjdklsjfkl

“I'm gonna be the anti-hero Feared and hated by everybody I'm gonna be the anti-hero So I can save you when the time comes”

Again I said it before but it fits, he doesn’t think himself a hero sure but HE DOES WHAT HE DOES BC HE THINKS ITS RIGHT. HE ISNT AN ANARCHIST BC OF SPITE (even if his destruction might be lol) HE IS BC HE BELIEVES IT’S THE BEST POSSIBILITY.

“Righteousness is a thing that I hate Cause it doesn't do any good for anyone And everyone thinks everything is OK If they just obey”

In short: ur not any better for following the government’s laws bc it wont magically fix things! You’re not better for obeying! Anarchy baby!!

“I don't want to think about what they see When they look up and see evil me You see, love isn't what I need As long as I can set you free”

Okay not to be in mourning of the tommy techno dynamic but. He doesn’t care if everyone he loves hates him as long as they’re safe and free from tyranny. He doesn’t CARE (at least he says) if tommy hates him if its for his own good. Techno is very much a ends justify the means kind of guy, why not apply it to his own relationships w others.

WOO NEXT SONG

Glory and Gore could fit w a lot of characters (particularly I see it as a dream and techno song) bc its about fighting finding fame from it

“But in all chaos, there is calculation”

My man thrives in chaos and rebellion, but he puts weeks of effort into it!! He carefully calculates his battles in order to cause his chaos!!

“You've been drinking like the world was gonna end (It didn't) Took a shiner from the fist of your best friend (Go figure)”

Okay so this isn’t rlly abt him, and more general pogtopia (Wilbur w the first line, the world ending being destroying lmanberg) but the second line is abt tommy and techno’s fight in the pit prove me wrong JFKDLJF

“Glory and gore go hand in hand That's why we're making headlines You could try and take us But victory's contagious”

Techno was brought into the pogtopia conflict BECAUSE he’s famous for being a great warrior. He literally makes headlines with his gore. Also, has he ever LOST a single battle/war he’s been in? even when taken prisoner and EXECUTED he managed to escape victorious and alive. His victory IS damn contagious, technoblade never dies baby, we win theseeee

“Delicate in every way but one (The swordplay) God knows we like archaic kinds of fun (The old ways) Chance is the only game I play with, baby We let our battles choose us”

Techno is brutal in his combat and swordplay and, if we consider stuff like mcm and mcc canon, often does so for fun. Despite that tho he still doesn’t really START wars. He was recruited into pogtopia. He went into retirement after new lmanberg was made and only came out after HE was attacked. His battles CHOOSE HIM.

“Tired little laughs, gold-lie promises We'll always win at this, I don't ever think about death It's all right if you do, it's fine”

Hrhrhrnngng tommy techno time. They both made promises to each other to help the other and both ended up going back on their word. Also, you can interpret “I don’t ever think about death, it’s alright if you do” to be about how tommy’s at one life while techno’s at 3, OR abt tommy’s suicidal ideation during exile and aaaaaaAHHHHH

“We gladiate, but I guess we're really fighting ourselves Roughin' up our minds so we're ready when the killtime comes Wide awake in bed, words in my brain "Secretly you love this, do you even wanna go free?" Let me in the ring, I'll show you what that big word means”

HHHOUGH BABY THIS IS THE MONEY LINE!! Techno ENJOYS fighting in the end, and with the voices of chat they demand blood from him. He says he wants to change, to retire and be peaceful, but in the end “secrety you love this, do you even wanna go free?”!!!! hes in conflict with HIMSELF over his war activities and fighting urges. War sucks in the end and you lose people, but its what he’s built his identity over. He IS the blood god, the blade. What is he ALLOWED to be beyond violence? IDK IM JUST HAVING TECHNO THOUGHTS NOW BUT LIKE!!! YO!!! Even you could read into it that when he thinks that his first impact is to “let him in the ring”, violence is the only universal language for him to the point he doesn’t KNOW anything else.

ANYWAY THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TEDTALK I LOVE TECHNOBLADE jfdksjfl

[brighterthanghosts]

Meant for Romance

Word count: 1,893

Part 1/1

Pairing: Taishiro (past Koumi)

Read below the cut or on ao3

Summary:  “So let me get this straight,” Miyako says, swiftly biting into her toast. “You got sloppy drunk on a Tuesday and hooked up with your hot best friend. He let you sleep in his bed overnight and brought you breakfast.” 

“And now you’re here, having breakfast with me,” Miyako says with a bored sigh, “When you could be having a coffee-flavored makeout sesh with your hot best friend.”

Heavily implied nsfw. Lots of awkward. Humor maybe? Largely fueled by too much coffee at 4 a.m.

So warm.

Koushiro doesn’t remember ever feeling so cozy in his life. He knows he needs to get up soon — the morning sun on the other side of his eyelids beckons him to start the day. But sleep is still within his grasp, and his pillow smells so nice, like sage and bergamot and mint. He recognizes that scent, though he can’t quite place it, but his brain supplies him with hot breaths on his neck and a husky coo of his name.

Koushiro shivers, pulls the cotton sheet under his chin, and revels in the way it drags across his skin. His skin. All of his skin.

Eyes snapping open, Koushiro jolts up. The sheet, having fallen to the tops of his thighs, answers his first question, but — Where the hell am I?

He remembers Mimi, her pretty hair pulled back, making her deep-set frown stand out even more. She told him it wasn’t working out, that there’s someone else, that this just wasn’t doing it for her anymore. I wasn’t doing it for her at all.

He remembers calling Taichi, desperate and agonizing. Taichi saying he’d be there in 30 minutes. Taichi hailing down a cab to take them to a bar where “the drinks are cheap and totally worth it.” Taichi making him feel better instantly with big grins and fond laughter because that’s what friends do.

Spotting his clothes loosely folded on the desk chair across from the bed, Koushiro moves hastily and slips his underwear on, left foot then right foot. He knows he told Taichi about the breakup. Well, it wasn’t really a breakup, considering he and Mimi had never put a label to what they were doing, which wasn’t much.

Koushiro was busy, and Mimi was needy. She needed things from him that he couldn’t give. They’d tried to engage in sexual activities exactly twice, and neither time could Koushiro perform. It was something that embarrassed him to no end because he liked Mimi and he thought she was cute, but for the entire 8 months they were seeing each other, his body just wouldn’t respond.

Taichi spent most of that conversation listening, Koushiro realizes now, and he never poked fun or judged him. He loves that about Taichi. He’s working on the fourth button of his white dress shirt when his eyes dart to a Polaroid photo propped up on the desk. In the bottom right-hand corner reads ‘The Yagamis 2002.’  Nonononono.

And it hits him like a bullet train. Rough hands, harsh lips. Hips colliding, hot with need. Smooth, sun-kissed skin everywhere. Taichi over him, eyes wide and lips swollen. “Perfect. You’re so perfect.”

“Fuck,” Koushiro stutters, palms suddenly clamy. He’s got both legs in his pants, pulling them up in one swoop, and he hears the door unlock. Fuck.

“Hey, you’re awake!” Taichi says, smiling. At least, Koushiro suspects he’s smiling, but he doesn’t want to know. He can’t bring himself to look at his friend. He hears a rustle of plastic and something heavy hitting the table, but his mind can only focus on slipping on his socks at light speed.

“Sorry to leave you alone,” Taichi sounds sincere. It makes Koushiro feel worse. “I didn’t have much in the fridge, so I ran to the convenience store down the street. I grabbed that bottled Oolong you like. I hope eggs and — you’re leaving?”

“Sorry, Taichi-san. I have to go.” And Koushiro is out the door, leaving Taichi to stand alone in his little apartment.

***

He’s not sure where he’s going, not exactly paying attention, but he spots a park and some familiar treelines, and he manages to make it to a door, knocking furiously.

A beat passes, and he knocks again.

“Jesus, what!?” Miyako says, whipping the door open and looking like she just rolled out of bed. She eyes Koushiro, his tousled hair, frazzled expression, and haphazard outfit.

“Either you’ve met a very unfriendly tornado, or you’re doing the walk of shame,” she says, causing Koushiro to flush from the neck up. “Ah. Walk of shame, huh? Come in.”

The next 20 minutes are filled with Miyako filling her toaster and putting on a pot of coffee while Koushiro relays the previous night’s events with record speed. He’s beet red.

“So let me get this straight,” Miyako says, swiftly biting into her toast. “You got sloppy drunk on a Tuesday and hooked up with your hot best friend. He let you sleep in his bed overnight and brought you breakfast.”

She pauses to look directly into his soul, and Koushiro would like nothing more than to simply pass away.

“And you panicked.” Miyako’s tone is pointed, but when she doesn’t immediately continue, Koushiro opens his mouth to reply in uncoordinated hand gestures and wordless exasperation. He nods instead.

“And now you’re here, having breakfast with me,” Miyako says with a bored sigh, “When you could be having a coffee-flavored makeout sesh with your hot best friend.”

“It’s not like that!” Koushiro defends. Taichi was his very first friend and probably his closest friend — there was no way he could jeopardize that. His failed attempt at a relationship with Mimi was proof enough that Koushiro isn’t meant for romantic endeavors of any kind.

“I just got out of a relationship!” Koushiro pleads, but Miyako’s expression is solid. She’s not buying this for a moment. Softer, Koushiro says, “And Taichi is my friend. I don’t want to take advantage of him.”

“He obviously didn’t mind,” Miyako, says, annoyed and unimpressed with Koushiro’s half-hearted explanation. Koushiro grunts and looks down at the kitchen counter — he’s not entirely sure he believes himself. Miyako sighs again, this time with a hint of sincere tiredness woven in, and saunters toward her bedroom. “Tragic.”

***

The drive to the office is mostly silent, except for Miyako’s intermittent humming to whatever song is playing on the radio. Koushiro can’t make out any of the words over the sound of his heart thrumming like an upright bass in his ears. Miyako doesn’t seem to notice.

It’s times like this when he truly appreciates her — hiring Miyako as his assistant director was one of his best decisions. She always sorts him out when he gets too caught up in the details. Which is probably why he randomly showed up at her home this morning.

They’re walking into the building, and Miyako greets the receptionist quickly, shielding Koushiro from anyone passing through. He looks a mess, he knows, and Miyako’s being kind by attempting to uphold his reputation. She walks him all the way to his office, reminding him to pull the curtain over the glass windows by his door. She says to find her when he’s done.

It was also Miyako who mothered him into keeping spare clothes at the office after one too many all-nighters. “You look like a trash panda, honestly.”

The morning goes as usual, answering emails, IMing Miyako about the slides for their monthly report. He doesn’t notice when noon rolls around. He doesn’t pay attention when his office door opens, or when the sound of rustling plastic makes its second appearance today.

“Koushiro,” comes a soft voice. Koushiro’s fingers hover above his keyboard and a shiver runs down his spine. “Koushiro,” Taichi says again.

He knows he needs to respond but he can’t pull himself away from his safety net just yet. His fingers touch down on the keyboard again, and he exhales shakily.

“Hello, Taichi-san.”

“I was worried you didn’t eat, so I brought you lunch,” Taichi says quietly. It’s unlike him, and it breaks Koushiro’s heart. He knows he’s being selfish. He knows he should acknowledge his friend, but —

“Koushiro, please,” Taichi says, voice sadder now, a tinge of anguish in that last word. “Can we please talk?”

Koushiro freezes again. He’s so utterly fucked and completely inexperienced in all aspects of what’s sure to unfold here. But Taichi sounds hurt, and he doesn’t want to be someone who hurts Taichi.

He swivels around in his chair, facing Taichi on the sofa but looking at the ground where the toe of his shoe meets the wood floor. He wants to say something, taps his foot a few times, and finally looks up.

“Taichi-san, I —”

“What the fuck?”

“Huh?” Koushiro says, caught off guard. Mimi is storming into his office, face fire-engine red.

“You cheated on me?!” She squawks.

“Excuse me?” Koushiro musters because this is his ex, and his mother taught him to mind his manners, but he feels offended.

“Sora heard from Yamato that you slept with someone last night!” Mimi is causing a scene. A few of Koushiro’s colleagues have poked their heads into the hallway outside Koushiro’s office.

“Did you know about this? Who is she?”

She’s addressing Taichi now, who sinks deeper into the sofa and looks like he might combust, and Koushiro’s blood is boiling. He stands, moving into her line of vision.

“Mimi-san, I hardly think anything I did last night could be considered cheating as we never defined the exclusivity of our relationship and you said there was someone else.” Koushiro says with as much confidence as he can. “I think that gives me the right to do as I want.”

Mimi stomps her foot and raises her arms, ready to shout a thousand expletives, but Miyako is through the door and in Mimi’s face like a forcefield.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to Izumi Corporation. My name is Inoue Miyako, and I’m the lead director of team shut down. As in, I’m shutting this down immediately,” Miyako says, straight faced and with her kindest customer service voice. The first-floor security guard stands just outside Koushiro’s office, already escorting Mimi out. Miyako follows after them, stopping in the doorframe. “Thank you for your visit to Izumi Corp! Have a nice day!”

She smiles and waves, and Koushiro feels like he can breathe again. He has know idea what just happened, and his head is pounding. Miyako’s smile falls, eyebrows pull together, and from the doorway, she points her finger at Koushiro and yells, “I expect a raise!”

She shuts his curtains, slams the door behind her and disappears after that. Koushiro’s mind would normally leave the train station in 50 directions at once, but he’s just stunned. He turns, hoping to find Advil in his desk drawer, and — Taichi!

“Taichi-san, I’m so sorry,” Koushiro turns around to face him, and it’s all he can do because Taichi doesn’t deserve any of this. Taichi is looking at him unexpectedly, reaches a hand up to scratch at the nape of his neck and smiles slightly.

“So,” Taichi says and pauses, looking at the table, “lunch?”

Koushiro stares in awe. Taichi smiles and after a beat, looks up and says, “And maybe we can start this day over?”

They spend the rest of the afternoon talking, and Koushiro apologizes with his entire being. For the event with Mimi. For leaving him. For being so cold. Taichi reassures every “I’m sorry.” Taichi says it’s okay because he doesn’t expect the world Koushiro. Taichi is his best friend. Taichi would like to try last night again. Today, preferably, with less alcohol, but he isn’t pushing.

They weathered a year’s worth of drama in a single day. Koushiro is still breathing, and Taichi still smiles at him like Koushiro is the sun. And maybe Koushiro is meant for romance.

[redrobinfection]

(15) Horror Movies

SociallyAwkwardFox’s Spooktober - Day 15 “Horror Movies”

JayDickTim | Established Relationship | Horror Movies | They’re not always scary but they can still put you in weird headspace | Sleep Deprivation | (brief) graphic descriptions of horror scenes | Panic Attack | Want to write with me? Find the prompt list here!

~*~

Tim loves his boyfriends. So, so much. But one thing that Jason and Dick both love that Tim just can’t wrap his head around: horror movies.

They’re watching one right now, the third of a trilogy Jay and Dick love, and Tim is sandwiched between them on the couch, feeling faintly ill.

Jay and Dick are the kind of people that get that something from a horror movie, the adrenaline or the enjoyment of their terror or whatever it is that hooks people. Tim isn’t and he gets nothing but is a sick feeling in his stomach and the impression that all the color has been sucked out of the world.

It isn’t the scenes themselves that get to him, because as terrible as it is to admit, he’s seen and experienced thing just as terrible, maybe worse, in his time as Robin. All of them have. Brutal serial killings, human trafficking tragedies, figurative and literal monsters left and right, not to mention the rogues. A run-in with Scarecrow’s fear toxin? That would make most horror movies seem like a pleasant summer picnic. Chasing and being chased by Killer Croc in the sewers in the dead of night? Monster B-flick gold. And the Joker? ‘Nough said.

No, for Tim it’s more about the way the scenes are presented - the cold, dark filters; the unnatural lighting; the haunting music and grisly sound effects. It turns a factually horrifying scene into an garish exaggeration, like a scene from one of his nightmares - you don’t fully believe its real, but it still strikes a chord deep in your psyche.

He can handle one movie. Easy to shake off. Maybe two, in the daytime. But tonight they watched three, using their one night off from patrol to stay up into the wee hours of the morning–as if they would ever think use that time to catch up on sleep or something.

Three-quarters of the way through the third movie, Jason notices Tim getting twitchy and asks if he’s okay.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s just getting late. I keep nodding off and then every time someone screams, I jump awake again,” Tim tells them, playing it off with a laugh. Dick and Jason laugh with him.

“No problem, Babybird, we’re almost done. We’ll let you sleep in peace soon enough.”

“Did you mean 'rest in peace’, Jaybird?”

“Ugh, Dick, staaaahp.”

They laugh and kiss over Tim’s head, then come at him from both sides when he makes a disgruntled noise for being squished between them, showering him in kisses and noogies and awkward side hugs. The warm moment of affection between the three of them almost distracts Tim away from the grim mood affected by the movies. Almost.

When they settle down into bed an hour later, Tim snuggled between the two of them–all of Dick’s limbs wrapped around him and Jason drooling onto his shoulder–the sick feeling, mental and physical, doesn’t budge. Tim spends the rest of the night staring up at the dark ceiling, mind circling the imagery of the movie in endless spirals. He closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep when Dick gets up at 4:30 to pee, and again at 5:15 when Jay startles awake for a few seconds at the sound of a car alarm blaring down on the street. When they all get up at nine the next morning, neither Dick nor Jason seems to be the wiser to his deception.

Tim spends the next day exhausted, but makes up for it with a jam packed schedule–keeping busy always helps–and copious amounts of caffeine. That night he goes out for a quick patrol, then turns in early, hoping to make up for lost sleep.

He can’t. He’s still awake, his mind bombarding him with the images of a decapitated zombie child crawling toward a screaming young woman in the grey rain as “mama, mama” whistles in the wind; the sounds of a man sobbing as he clutches his dead partner in the snow–her womb torn out messily–and the smells he imagines a child clinging to their mother’s green, long-dismembered corpse would experience when Dick comes in at three AM. He’s still awake–and pretending he’s not with every Bat-trained skill he has–when Jay comes in a half hour later.

He’s seen just as bad in real life–and how messed up is it to say that?–but here the imagery is also accompanied by such a deep sense of sorrow, lasting pain and depression. Lives, minds, souls ruined. He’s still wide awake as dawn begins to light the sky. He extricates himself from their sleepy dogpile while Jason and Dick are still in the deepest stages of sleep and heads down to the gym to get a few hours of training in to pump him up for another exhausting day.

He struggles through day two, barely functioning as he makes his way into night three. He volunteers to stay on comms for the night, citing some bullshit excuse about a sore ankle he wants to rest to keep Dick from worrying and Jason from asking too many questions. He stays up late, working on case docs, hoping that if works himself to utter exhaustion that he can just pass out at dawn. He tells Dick and Jay he’s doing it to make up for not going out, and they seem worried, but he promises he’ll rest in the morning.

He doesn’t. Daylight doesn’t bring any relief from the wild thoughts and images that pop into his head any time he tries to quiet his mind. He pretends to nap on the couch until Jay and Dick leave, then goes into Wayne Enterprises and works late.

He goes out as Red Robin that night–night four–but turns in early after he gets a call from Alfred asking about unexpected telemetry from the vitals sensors in his suit–racing pulse, high rate of respiration. He excuses himself with claims that he’s in a bit of pain from his “sore” ankle. It’s a lie. His body and his mind are hitting their natural limits, his anxiety levels increasing and his organs screaming for rest. He meditates for the rest of the night, feeling somewhat refreshed the next morning.

Day four is like a bizarre dream, time zooming past or crawling by in fits and starts. He loses his appetite and even coffee starts to lose its appeal, the smell of it making his stomach twist. By five PM swears the shadows at the corner of his office have started to ooze toward him and he jumps at every little sound.

That night he skips dinner, disables all telemetry in his suit, and goes out for solo patrol. Just a loop around his territory. Then he’ll stop, take a sedative, and pass out for twelve to fifteen hours. Sweat it out as the drugs force him to stay under no matter what nightmares may come.

His patrol is patchy, if that makes any sense. Some moments he is clearly aware of where he is and what he’s doing, and then there are whole stretches of time that are total blanks. Halfway through his loop he gets sidetracked to a neighborhood outside his scope after he hears about of a drug deal going down outside a middle school.

He handles the would-be dealers–high schoolers dealing to middle schoolers who were lucky Red Robin caught wind of the deal before Red Hood did–then retires to the roof of the school for a breather. He sits down between two AC units and lets his head fall back against one for a few moments…

—

Tim slowly comes awake to the sounds of quiet conversation around him, gentle fingers combing through his hair, and a soft bed under him. He blinks his eyes open, squinting in confusion at the overhead light of the room he shares with Jay and Dick. Who left the lights on? Wait, why is he in his uniform? Did he forget to take it off before he dropped into bed?

“Dick. Dick, shut up a second, I think he’s coming around. Tim? Timmy? You with us?”

Tim turns his head to the side with a grimace. His neck is sore like he slept hanging off the side of the bed half the night.

“J-Jay?”

The hand leaves his hair and Tim turns his head minutely to see Dick sitting beside him on the bed, running both hands through his own hair, expression a blend of relief and worry.

“Holy cow, Tim, you scared the crap out of us. What were you thinking?” Dick demands of him. Tim blinks, confused.

“Whoa, whoa, ease up, Dickie, give 'im a sec to reboot, 'kay?” Jason chides, settling down near Tim’s bare feet–-oh, someone removed his boots, gauntlets, belts and cape and unzipped the collar of his suit. He rubs a soothing circles into the arch of one foot. “Hey, Timbo, you know where you are?”

“The 'partment,” Tim answers slowly. Did he hit his head on patrol?

“Yeah. You know what time it is?”

Tim blinks. It’s dark outside, so he knows it’s nighttime, but when he tries to think back to the last time he remembers he can’t get it straight. He was on patrol? Which patrol? He can’t remember. Did he get drugged? Shot?

“No? You know what day it is?”

He doesn’t. He starts to panic. What happened to him? He tries to sit up.

“Easy, Tim. Just rest for a minute,” Dick soothes, easing him back down with a hand on one shoulder. Tim flops back, heart racing. He’s missing something, something important, something awful he should remember.

“Breathe, Tim, don’t force yourself,” Jason chides. Dick’s hand returns to his hair and Jason lies down beside him, now rubbing circles into his exposed hand.

Dark spots cloud his vision and he starts to shake. Why can’t he remember? Now that he’s more aware, why do his joints ache and his limbs feel like they’ve been filled with cement? Why does he feel so cold? Is he dying? Is he dead?

“Jay, he’s hyperventilating.”

“No shit. Timmy? Tim? Breathe with me okay?”

“Breathe with Jason, Tim. Nice and slow.”

“Hey, fo– on m–”

“Ti–”

Their voices fade out along with the sensation of fingers feeling for a pulse and hands pulling off his suit. Darkness fills his vision until there is nothing left but the darkness.

—

When Tim comes around again it’s with a hiss for the bright overhead lighting of the Batcave’s med bay. You’d think with all their resources they’d invest in a light dimmer at some point.

“There he is. Rise and shine, Timbo,” Jason’s voice calls from his left. He groans and tries to squeeze his eyes closed.

“Ah, ah, ah, no falling asleep again until you endure the wrath of Big Bird and Alfie. They’ve got a lot of choice words for you, Babybird,” Jason chides, squeezing his hand. Tim tries to curl onto his opposite side but freezes with a gasp when a sharp twinge in his right arm informs him of the IV inserted there. The numb, slightly clammy feeling on his right index finger speaks to the presence of a pulse oximeter clip. Did he get injured, he wonders?

No. Bit by bit, Tim’s head clears and snatches of memory come back to him. He’d been on patrol. He stopped to rest. No dinner. No sleep. Wayne Enterprises. Disabled telemetry. Solo patrol. The teenaged dealers. A middle school.

Disabled telemetry. Shit.

“H-how long was I out?” Tim asks, croaking around the dryness of his throat. He turns back to Jay in time to see Alfred and Dick walk into med bay, expressions stern and relieved in equal measure. Jason snorts at whatever expression Tim makes in response to theirs.

“About a day, in and out of it,” Alfred replies smoothly, voice cool and unamused as he raises the back of the bed to help Tim sit up. “You gave Masters Dick and Jason quite the fright, not to mention myself, going out alone and under the radar the way you did. I thought we had taught you better than that, Master Timothy.”

Tim shrinks in on himself. You know you’re in trouble with Alfred when he calls you by your full first name. “Sorry, Alfred. Dick. Jason. I haven’t really been myself the past couple of days,” he admits, thinking back on the past week. He cringes internally as he thinks about their last free day and all the stupid things he did in the resulting funk.

“I imagine you wouldn’t be, skipping meals until you passed out from exhaustion,” Alfred lectures sternly as he deftly removes the IV and pulse oximeter. Dick looks sad and disappointed. Jason looks unconvinced.

Tim shakes his head. “I wasn’t skipping meals - mostly - I just wasn’t sleeping very much.”

Dick raises his eyebrows. “Define 'very much’? Why weren’t you sleeping?”

“Uhhhh, well… not at all?” Tim replies shrugging with an apologetic grimace. Alfred shakes his head as he leaves med bay and Jason’s eyes blow wide. Dick makes a sound of indignation.

“Not at all?!” Jason echoes. “What the hell, Babybird? What were you thinking!”

Tim scrubs his hands over his face and deliberately ignores the question in favor of asking one of his own. “What happened? I remember stopping to rest on the roof of Parkview Middle and then briefly waking up back at the apartment.” He looks around the med bay then takes stock of himself. He feels fine now, but he vaguely remember feeling like he was dying the last time he was fully conscious. “Did I get hurt?”

Dick doesn’t look happy about the redirect, but shakes his head and takes a seat on the edge of the gurney. “Well, after me and Jay got home at four AM, realized you weren’t there, and found your suit was missing, we called Alfred and Babs to see if you’d been out that night.

"Alfred said he hadn’t heard from you, and neither had Babs, but she eventually tagged you in a couple of surveillance feeds along your route. We tried to call you on comms: nothing. Then Babs tried to find you on live surveillance: still nothing.” Dick’s expression is dark and his eyes drill holes into Tim.

“We were freakin’ out, Timmers,” Jason continues. “Like, did you get hurt? Did you get kidnapped? We tried to check your telemetry and got fuck all. No vitals, no location. Dickie here was nearly shittin’ himself thinking you’d gone and gotten yourself killed or somethin’”

Tim’s face heats up in shame.

“In the end we pulled out the nuclear option and activated your subdermal GPS beacon,” he explains, gesturing to the stretch of skin on Tim’s arm under which the small capsule resided, a measure they all–Bruce included–agreed to take in order to avoid situations just like this one.

“We found you on some random-ass roof four blocks off your route, passed the fuck out. When we tried to check on you, you nearly cleaned Dickie’s clock, kicked me in the cup–it still hurt, even with the cup, so thanks for that–then tried to throw yourself off the roof. After we got you to calm down and wake up a bit, you seemed to recognize us, understand where you were, and we escorted you home.

"Everything was fine until we got into the apartment, at which point you threw yourself across our bed, cowl up and belts on, and passed out again,” Jason explained, rolling his eyes at the ridiculousness of it. “You weren’t outwardly bleeding and your pupils reacted appropriately to light, so we thought you were just a little tired or whatever. When you woke up again, you were disoriented as fuck and freaking out. Then you went completely non-responsive and we freaked out. We brought you down here just to make sure you didn’t have a brain bleed or a punctured lung or something.

"A million scans and some bloodwork later and Alfie concluded you that probably hadn’t been taking care of yourself,” Jason concludes, pinning Tim with a severe look of his own. “And now we’re hearing from you that you haven’t been sleeping?  Cough it up, Timbo. How long?”

Tim clears his throat and shifts his legs restlessly.  “About five days.”

“Five days!” Dick exclaims, jumping up from the end of the gurney. He rounds to the other side, across from Jason. “Why?”

Tim shrugs and looks away. “I dunno, I just haven’t been able to fall asleep. I couldn’t shut my brain off.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you had insomnia?” Dick asks.

Tim shrugs again. “What would you be able to do about it?”

“Make sure you didn’t do something stupid like stay up all night filing reports or go on patrol with all your tracers turned off, probably,” Jason replies wryly. He stands up, bracketing Tim between himself and Dick. He narrows his eyes.

“You know, I can tell when you’re keeping something from us, Timbo. Spit it out. What’s been so heavy on your mind that it hasn’t let you get a wink of sleep for nearly a week?”

Tim tenses and curls in on himself subconsciously. “Nothing. It’s not important.”

Jason laughs mirthlessly and Dick frowns. “If it’s important enough for you to lose sleep over it, then it’s important to us,” Jason insists.

Tim mumbles under his breath, avoiding eye contact.

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” he mumbles a little louder.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you, Timbelina,” Jason belts loudly into his ear.

“It’s your damn horror, movies okay!? I couldn’t sleep after we marathoned that trilogy on our night off,” Tim shouts back, scooting down the bed and throwing off the sheet. He swings his legs over the side, stands up, and only sways a little as the room swims around him for a second.

“The movies? They scared you?” Dick asks uncertainly as he steadies Tim with hand around his upper arm.

Tim shakes him off. “No, they’re just depressing as fuck. We see enough horrible stuff in our line of work, so sue me if watching it presented in a way intended to be emotionally gripping as possible puts me in a bit of a funk.”

He moves for the doorway, pretending not to be embarrassed that his ass is hanging out of the back of his hospital gown, only to be stopped by Dick darting in front of him, closely followed by Jason. They’re both watching him with concern, worry, and a tinge of guilt. Tim deflates. This was exactly what he hoped to avoid.

“Babe. You never told us they bothered you,” Dick starts while Jason says, “A bit of a funk? It must really bother you if it’s keeping you up for days.” They look at each other, then Dick nods to Jason. Tim sighs.

“What’s really going on, Tim,” Jason asks.

“That’s really all it is,” Tim replies, crossing his arms. “We watched the movies, I didn’t sleep that night and then it kind of snowballed from there, the sleep dep feeding the funk.” Looking at it objectively, after a good night’s rest, he can admit that the situation never should have escalated past that first morning; he should have taken a sedative and a day off right then and there to avoid falling deep into the funk.

“Is it really that bad? Why didn’t you tell us you don’t like scary movies?” Dick asked, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. Tim groaned.

“It’s really not a big deal. Not usually. They don’t scare me, they just kind of… I dunno, haunt my thoughts for a while afterwards. You know how it goes; I overthink everything,” Tim admits, waving a hand dismissively. “And I didn’t tell you guys because I didn’t feel like being made fun of for being 'too scared to watch a scary movie’. Who would have believed me if I said they’re not scary, just emotionally disturbing?”

Dick opens his mouth like he’s going to object but Tim cuts him off. “No, don’t even try to tell me that you would. Look at Jay, at least he’s honest with himself.”

They both look at Jason, who is nodding along, looking chagrined. “Yeah, I’ll admit, if you’d said something, I probably would have teased you about it.” He gives Tim a look Tim can’t decipher. “You’re an odd one, Timbo, but there’s no arguing with the results. If it bothers you, it bothers you, whether it’s frightening or not. But if it bothers you so much, then why watch with us? You could have just told us you don’t like horror and gone to bed.”

“And not spend time with you guys?” Tim asks incredulously. “We get one night off together every two weeks, and you think I would just give that up and go to bed alone?” He shakes his head at them. “I put up with it because I wanted to spend time with you guys and I wanted you guys to do something you both enjoy. I didn’t want to be the wet blanket in the room that put a stop to that.”

Both Jason and Dick’s faces fall on hearing this, and in that moment Tim is done with this conversation. He tries to skirt around them, but Jason blocks his path.

“Move, Jason, I need to pee.” He does. IVs are great and all, but sleeping for twenty four hours through one, maybe two liters of fluids equals one very full bladder. He’s grateful Alfred didn’t stoop to inserting a urinary catheter just to punish him, even if it would have done him a favor in this one thing.

Jason crosses his arms obstinately.

“I will pee on you,” Tim warns.

Dick steps between them and places his hands on Tim’s shoulders. “Tim, it means a lot to us that you would put our enjoyment above your own, but it hurts a little to think you don’t trust us enough to let us know when something’s bothering you.”

“What Dick said,” Jason seconds. “Yeah, we’d probably tease you at first, but eventually we’d get that horror makes you uncomfortable and picked something else to do. We care about you just as much you care about us, ya know?”

Tim looks away, uncomfortable.

“Look, we’re not trying to blame the victim here, we’re just saying give us a chance next time, okay?” Jason clarifies, tone softening. “We deserve the opportunity to prove ourselves assholes or saints for ourselves, yeah?”

Tim snorts softly. “Yeah.”

They smile and Dick draws them both into a hug, sandwiching Tim between them. “Good. And we’re sorry, Tim. We should have noticed you weren’t having a good time and asked.”

“You did,” Tim admits, “But I told you I was 'just tired’ and you guys bought it. That’s on me.”

“Yeah, well, dealing with you–the guy who lies to Batman–we should have pressed the issue no matter how convincing you were,” Jason replies, pressing his face into Tim’s hair. “And you shouldn’t feel like we won’t take you seriously. That’s mostly my bad for teasing you so much.”

Tim presses his face into Jason’s chest and shakes his head. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Dick says softly at his back. “But it will be.” Tim feels Jason smile into his hair and nod. He lets them hold him tight and close for a long minute.

“And no more horror movies around Timmy!” Dick exclaims belatedly, making Tim and Jason laugh.

“Definitely. We’ll save it for our solo dates, right Dickie?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Okay, this was nice and all,” Tim begins, squirming a little, “but I wasn’t kidding earlier; someone needs to let go now or I’m going to pee on Jason.”

“Eh, I’m fine with that,” Dick replies lightly.

“Dick, you dick!” Jason shoots back, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Stop making me laugh! I’m really going to pee on him!”

[fanficsrusz]

My collection - part three John wick AU

A/n: ahhh the calm before the storm. *evil laugh* im also going to start work on a masterlist soon 👍

Masterlist

________________________________________The downpour had stopped but y/n could still smell the rain in the air as she made her way out of the house and towards college. As she walked down the driveway where her car should be, she pulled out her phone and began to make the calls needed in order to get her car fixed.

Finishing the call quickly, she finally looked up and across the street. Johns car was not in the driveway and y/n relaxed her shoulders as chances of seeing him in the early morning reduced. She didn't care where he was and had no intention of finding out and so began the walk towards college taking in the scenery around her, letting all her stress melt away.

Arriving at college she saw the mechanic at her car already at work and jogged over to him. He was an elderly gentlemen but he had a soft face, a face that held wisdom and stories of his past experiences. He reminded her of her father. "hi. Hows shes doing" y/n beamed referring to the car. The mechanic stood up and gave her a puzzled look. "miss have you been playing with the car?" the man gave her a concerned look and y/n was confused. "what? No? Why would i play with it?" she asked peering over his shoulder to look at the cars inside. The mechanic looked back to the car before replying "well you see these wires have been pulled out quite forcefully. This was no accident and honestly ive only ever seen this one other time and that was at a crime scene" the mechanic half joked and y/n looked at the wires in his hand and just stood there as her thoughts raced "can you fix it?" y/n asked "miss i can fix just about anything" the guy chuckled but was met with silence. "good. I'm going to be in there so just call when you're done" she pointed to the building "will do" the old man said resuming his work once again.

Making her way into the school she walked into the reception office, she approached the young lady sitting at the desk. "hi. My name is y/n and i was just wondering if you have CCTV in the car park? You see my car was vandalised yesterday and i just want to see if they were caught on camera" the girl looked up at y/n and smiled kindly. "sure. I'll just get the security guard for you" and with that the girl left the room before returning moments later with a tall man who looked like he could work for the mafia with how big his muscles were. "follow me" the security guard said and led her into a small room at the back before sitting down at various monitors. He began to press random buttons before he stopped. The screen played back the scenes of yesterday and y/n watched herself pull into the carpark and get out. The sense of deja vu hit hard. The video continued playing as he slowly fast forwarded showing various people walking about but that's when the screen went black. "what happened?" y/n asked "I don't know" the guard began to click around the screen "its as if someone has deleted the footage" he stopped "i'm sorry i can't help you". Y/n sighed and grabbed her head "it's fine thank you for trying" and began to walk out. 'What the hell was going on?' y/n thought as she walked slowly down the hall towards the library.

Sitting down at one of the desks y/n rummaged through her bag to find her planner but couldn't find it she stopped rummaging through her bag, trying to remember where she had left it. "i believe you are looking for this" the voice said quietly and the book was held in front of her. Y/n looked up and there stood Dr. Wick im one of his various suits, a smirk tugging at his lips. Y/n had begun to hate his face and how he always seemed to know where she was and what she was doing but she couldn't bring herself to be rude. "thank you" y/n muttered before attempting to grab the book from his hand before it was suddenly pulled away. "you know you should really take better care of your things. Who knows what could happen to the things you love or whose hands they could fall into." there was a sinister undertone to his voice which y/n picked up. It was as if he was talking about something else. "Joh…. Dr Wick can i please have my planner back i've got work to do" john turned around and stood in front of her "of course you can my dear" and john handed her the book, the word 'dear' lingering in y/ns ears a little to long making her feel queasy.

As y/n took the book from him, she accidentally grazed his hand with hers and john's eyes went wide as if she had just told him the best news in the world. John walked out the library without another word. 'what the hell is up with that guy' y/n pondered on the though trying to decode his words and actions before her attention was pulled to a group of guys walking into the library. She recognised them, they were tom's friends. She waited as the group sat down but there was no tom. She slowly stood up to make her way towards them to find out where tom was but stopped when a thought entered her head 'you know what, no. He obviously doesn't care or he wouldn't of left' and with that y/n sat down and began working on various assignments.

The school day ended with not much else happening apart from the most uncomfortable lesson with Dr. Wick which was spent with him staring at y/n at every opportunity he had. It was as if he was taking in every detail of the girl. Y/n shuddered at the thought of John's eyes on her every movement as she made her way over to her car. There was a little note on the windscreen. 'your car is fixed. Please come in store or pay online.' y/n smiled and put the note in her pocket before driving home making a mental note about making sure to pay later on.

Pulling into the driveway she noticed that John's car was still not there. She began to gather her things from the seat next to her but her planner caught her attention. On the back of the book was a small red stain. She brought it closer to her face for inspection. Was it juice? Or…… "omg" y/n breathed out. Blood. A sudden knocking at the car window caused y/n to jump and hit her head on the roof. She looked over as she held her head and saw an old man stood there. She climbed out of the car. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to startle you," he said, "no it's fine" y/n replied rubbing the spot she hit, a nice bruise forming "can I help you?" she replied standing up straight. "yes. My name is lucas im the landlord. My grandson tom said he was coming here last night but he never returned and he didn't show up for school. Have you seen him" the man was obviously panicking. y/n felt guilt shoot through her as she began to tell him the events of last night. " yhh tom came here and we watched a movie together before falling asleep but he was gone when I woke up. I assumed he went home". The man looked down as he breathed heavily. "ok thank you. Im going to have to report him missing." and just like that the man walked off down the street.

Y/n began to worry as she stood there. What could have happened to him? Where could he have gone?. The roar of the familiar mustang broke her train of thought and john pulled into the driveway before getting out. He had dirt and bruises all over his face and was walking with a limp. It looked like he had gone 50 rounds with a boxer. As john caught her gaze he faced her completely and waved. Y/n ignored him and ran inside the house making sure to lock the door behind her. She looked through the spy whole and saw him stand there for a few seconds before making his way inside. She sighed a sign if relieve. She did not want to talk to him if she could avoid it. The weird vibe he emitted only got stronger with each passing moment and it was as if she was the only one who noticed the mans odd behaviour.

Y/n shook her head before beginning to go about her nightly routine.

A few hours later the sky was dark and y/n was sat in front of the TV with a bowl of pasta in hand ready to drown herself in friday night tv. She changed the channel to the news and was greeted with a picture of toms face. She put the bowl down next to her and proceeded to turn the volume up as the news presenter continued her story.

"....... Local student Tom Bishop has been reported missing after failing to return home after visiting a friend……" that last bit made y/n feel so guilty and she held her face in her hands. ".... This report comes after 4 young women went missing less that 20 miles away." y/n looked up at the 4 pictures displayed on the screen. Each of them looked similar in appearance and similar to y/n but she didn't really take much notice of the pictures, only focusing on the fact that Tom was missing and she couldn't help but feel responsible. "... It is not yet known if the cases are linked, however, Police are warning people to lock doors and windows and be careful. If you have any information about any of the people shown tonight, please contact the police. The weather for this…..". Y/n turnt the tv off and stood up just as she heard a noise come from across the street and there stood john pulling random things out of his trunk. Y/n moved closer to the window to get a better look. Her eyes went wide. The jacket tom was wearing when they first met was in his hands. Y/n moved back slightly as john turned around and he saw her. She was sure he had a dark red stain down his normally pristine shirt. He smirked and Y/n quickly pulled the curtains closed in an attempt to look as if she saw nothing.

Closing her eyes she tried to clear her mind. "im being stupid. Why would he have toms jacket?" y/n opened her eyes again looking at the clock in the room. It clocks hand showed 11pm. Y/n had been awake for so long. "im just seeing things. Im just tired. " y/n laughed at the attempts to put a logic explanation to what she saw "yepp just seeing things". Y/n made her way up to her room and got into bed. As she laid down her brain wouldn't let her sleep. Eventhough y/n had tried to convince herself otherwise she knew what she saw and what she had to do.  With that thought she leant over and grabbed her phone. She began to dial 911 and went to press the call button but stopped. Did she really want to do this? What if the man was innocent? "no" she said "if the man is innocent, the police will find nothing." she said before pressing the call button.

"911 whats your emergency" the operator said

"hi i think i have some information about the Tom Bishop case."

"please hold" and with that y/n was transferred to a detective on the case and began to describe what she saw that night. "ok thank you miss. May I have your name?" the detective said. "um can I keep this as an anonymous tip?" she asked twiddling with her blanket as a way to comfort herself. "sure" the detective said a smile evident on his face "thank you for your help" and he hung up.

Y/n sighed and laid back down closing her eyes.

She didn't know how or why but John Wick had something to do with Toms disappearance.

Tbc

_________________________________________

A/n: so part three is over and im excite to see what you all think of this chapter because the shit is about to hit the fan.

Tag list :

@homesoutofhuman

@softwhispers

@lushboy148

@dorinasfavs

[leviathiane]

SHOW US YOUR WROR RAW UNPROCESSED WHOLE GRAIN ORGANIC NOTES

this is going to be a long-ass post i am so sorry to Everyone! i take a lot of notes.

So, as You specifically know (as well as all of my lovely Soggers) I take a LOT of notes. Obsessively. I write fucking everything bc i have very little memory and very much paranoia. This results in literal Piles of notes. Raw planning, on paper, on my phone– doodles of scenes im brainstorming, bulletpoints, entire SCRIPTS– it’s all there but scattered (I’ve got scenes planned in the margins of my goddamn anthropology notes and deciphering it was a NIGHTMARE) 

I won’t even upload all the photos of my writing notebook, because itd be like 50 pages of illegible nonesense. but heres a couple of planning phase pages. (may be hard to read, I dropped this notebook both into some tidepools, into a creek on campus, and accidentally leaked my waterbottle onto it in my backpack :/) 

if you can’t tell already, yes they all look exactly like this. Some are even more illegible, because I wrote them with the notebook half under my actual class notes. Because i wrote most of them in class. During lectures. And pretending very badly that i was not doing exactly that. (pay attention in class please i got away with this bc i was filling up elective units) 

I’m also flat out MISSING a large portion of my notes bc some of it? isnt even in the damn notebook. its on a sheet of binder paper, or on the empty back of an assignment. I’ve now lost most of those notes, but the ones i do still have are just as (even more, actually) indecipherable chicken scratch: 

Wow, how clean and tidy and easy to follow! i am in hell. 

and this doesnt mention the PAGES and PAGES of outlines that are on my laptop, and the pages of outlined scenes that are on the notes app of my phone. if i put them all, you would have entire chapter spoilers up to the very end of the story so i cant post a lot of them– and also theres just a goddamn lot of them. currently i have 16 pages of outlining. There are no spacing breaks. It is a solid 16 page block of text. Looking at it gives me a migraine. 

some assorted notes which i have dredged up from the deleted parts of the main draft google doc go all the way back to when i started Wror in June and they are Barely more readable than my handwriting on sheer account of: articulation is not my strength. These include: 

“Ch 8 plan: sabo gets trained specially, awakens his armament haki, beats ace in a bunch of spars and proves himself to be anything but vulnerable. The boys are like “we fucking recognize that technique ryu taught you before us!!” and goad ryu into finally starting them both on basic haki training, just to awaken it, since sabo already has. Also this is the chapter that ace finally confronts ryu for his devil fruit after ryu confirms that some devil fruit users can’t be hurt without haki and ace immediately catches onto that and tries to slam his pipe through ryus head. It doesn’t work, ryu catches the weapon with a haki covered hand, to avoid turning to flame with hit and ace just gets frustrated and accuses ryu of hiding his devil fruit, because he remembers what he saw in grey terminal and that now that he has seen haki he can distinguish it from what he saw and he’s sure no one could do what ryu did. He calls ryu a hypocrite for coddling them even after telling them to stop coddling sabo and ryu has to sit them down and explain that yes he does have powers and he has been hdiing it and explains his reasoning. However instead of understanding th eboys just get fired up and say they don’t wnt to be scared of fire, especially not when it means ryu isn’t taking them seriously in a spar. Ryu finally agrees to start them on desensitization training for fire trauma. Fire desensitization training happens on the beach, so that they have water nearby in case things get out of hand. At some point ace gives ryu a considering look and is just like “if you have a devil fruit that means you can’t swim either right?” and ryu is basically just like “lmao yeah” and then ace immediately attempts to drown him. Lots of murder attempts in ace’s department toget his older brother to be less of an idiot with little success lol(extra: ace tried to attack ryu earlier both to confirm that ryu has a devil fruit that would force him to use haki to hide it, and because he now knows that he CAN’T hurt ryu without haki and as thus can’t beat him and make him admit he’s awake without being good at haki.)” [chapter 8] 

“Small sabo lost his hat and goggles in the incident and while he doesn’t remember having them future sabo notices he looks uncomfortable and keeps touching his hair and head. Ace yells at him for it thinking he bandaging are bothering him and that he can’t touch them but little sabo just comments that something about it feels wrong. Luffy blurts our that he had a hat, like luffy does, But he doesn’t now ace begrudgingly mentions that they can’t get a new one in town. Future sabo doesn’t even hesitate and just plops his own hat onto his younger selves head. It clearly too big for him, and almost falls over his eyes but he grins up at future sabo and is like “wow!! Thank you! I’ll take care of it till I have one of my own” and creates a paradox like Luffys own hat. The footsteps younger sabo has yet to fill. This HAS to happen AFTER the talk where they explain that future and past sabo are both the same person, to give little sabo that pressure.” [chapter 9]

“(Right after this older sabo takes them down to the ocean so that they can play a little and desensitize themselves and immediately fucks himself over when he goes weak in the water bc he somehow fucking forgot his own devil fruit again and now even younger sabo is on his case about not letting him near the fucking ocean that little goddamn HYPOCRITE—) )” [for chapter 9]

“Ch 9 plan: they finally leave dawn island. Starts with the boys getting a haircut after training and luffy mentions how long it’s been since they’ve last needed a haircut, giving sabo and ace time to point out that it’s been 2 months now since ryu joined them, and that sabo was completely healed by now. The boys are now aware of the basics of haki, and while luffy hasnt awakened either yet ace and sabo both have a little bit of weak armament haki. (sabo won’t awaken observational haki until he gets his memories back) ryu tries to sneak off into the city to steal a boat but his brothers refuse to leave him behind and keep sneaking out after him, not wanting him to go alone and saying that since he’s been training them they’re clearly stronger and he needs to let them do this. Ryu eventually just lets it go because why the fuck not it’s a dream and they make him feel better. They get the boat out on open ocean and finally fucking sail out, cheering loudly, ryu struggling to make them all calm down but also not really trying. He’s happy as shit, and they’re all so excited and happy and sabo dips a hand into the waves and then smiles so fucking wide and tackles ryu so violently they both nearly tip into the water and it’s just very very good. “ [also for ch 9] 

** I flat out dont Have any outlining from before chapter 6, because i only started actually outling chapters after that. i tend to just sit down and Write up until i hit a plot point or writers block and then am forced to actually think it through and plan rather than letting it come naturally. thats also why the quality and editing is better in later chapters despite everything being written within the same time frame. 

besides entire chapter outlines, there are the scene specific phone notes like:

“(ADDED) Right after they leave dawn, when sabo is sure they’ve gotten enough of a head start, he calls Garp. He doesn’t say who he is, but that all of the boys are safe and happy with him and has them all talk into the phone to assure him that they’re fine. Garp is honestly just pissed off he doesn’t know who’s calling and when he asks sabo just laughs and says a disobedient brat before hanging up. “

“(ADDED) TO EXPAND ON CH 3: sabo gets offered the chance to go with dragon, and he hesitates on the offer to go through with his previous life with the family he’s made in the revolutionary again. He almost agrees, because the bought of losing them in this lifetime is near excruciating but reminds himself swiftly that it’s no place for his brothers and not what they’d really want, and he wants selfishly to be with them as long as he Can until he “inevitably” wakes up. The boys are visibly relieved by this, especially ace. (Sabo gets asked who he is by dragon, who wants to know more about the stranger with his son, but dragon has always been quicker to make connections no one guessed and he just smiled knowingly at sabo and tells him he’s sure the other will have no trouble finding them if he’s in need. Sabo in turn warns him to keep Kuma close, and to look for a slave girl named koala.)”

I have…. many of these. I have Many of Everything. 

finally, i have scene doodles. if i hit a bad writers block it usually helps me to sketch scenes or the character designs to regain my grip on what the hell is happening in the plot– Breach of Intention has character design sketches, pakcbond has MANY scene sketches, even some of my nsfw has some sketches. my wror skecthes arent Good of course, I am an art teacher for children and that means i am more often explaining the color wheel and brush techniques over drawing perfect human replicas– and i just dont really make a lot of fanart? ive never drawn sabo before but i sure have a bunch now. i wont include close ups because they genuinely suck but heres an example pic 

So… yeah thats about everything. this is a VERY long post and yet i only included like maybe ¼ or 1/5 of all the notes i have dbskhjgfkjadns lmk if anyone wants more (or notes for my Other stories, which contain NO WHERE the same absurd amount of shit that wror does.)