#And the pressure is just building and building and idk what the hell I'm going to do | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kiestrokes · 7 months

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i like had this thought in the back of my head of like what ateez would be like with an S/O who has a physical illness bcs i actually have one which causes a lot of pain to my bones and i'm like in a constant state of pain and discomfort, been going on for about 12 years HELL YA ✊🏻, if i don't keep up on my meds (currently don't have the proper meds so it only tides me over for a little while-) then im basically fucked so IDK i feel like there isn't a lot of stuff written about this kind of stuff (im a sucker for shit i hardly ever am able to read abt) ALSO IM NOT 100% SURE IF YOUR REQS WERE OPEN BCS I DIDNT SEE ANYTHING POSTED ABT IT SO- YA- if you don't want to write it obviously you don't have to !! no pressure at all lovely

ATEEZ Caring for You: Chronic Illness Edition | SFW

Pairing: ATEEZ x Gender Neutral!Reader/You/Yn Rating: SFW Genre: fluff, slice of life, headcanons, imagines, scenarios. Warnings: chronic illness + immunocompromised talk.

🗝️ Note: Hey atiny anon! You actually asked the right person; I have fibromyalgia combined with a few other annoying chronic illnesses. Because you can't just have one 😓 I hope that you can find a decent fucking doctor and get on the proper medication soon. That's the biggest part of the struggle, finding a physician that will listen and is competent enough. I hope this was enough, I tried to assign each member a caring task that I felt fit them! Has not been beta-ed.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

Seonghwa

He’s here to help you prevent all the chronic pain that he can. Booking you massage visits. Trips to the hot springs. All the arnica rubs. Silly little games the two of you play, to keep your mind off the pain and depression spirals. His favorite is seeing who can build their new Lego set the quickest. Hwa is the biggest advocate for you, he would never return a dish at the restaurant when its wrong. But he will fight for you at every appointment, every pharmacy, wherever you need him to. Because he knows you've grown tired of fighting all the time.

Hongjoong

HJ's specialty is flexibility. You have a sudden burst of energy? He’s down to go explore that new pop-up market with you. You’ve come down with a bout of bone numbing pain? That’s cool, you’re getting changed into comfy clothes and piled up on the couch. Swaddled in your heating pad with all the snacks. Where he falls asleep on your shoulder. HJ never gets frustrated with your rapid change in mood or plans. Nothing but the most understanding partner you could ever have asked for, and boy is he so cute and snuggly when dozing on you. Small hands seeking your face for drowsy kisses that soothe your aches just a smidge.

Yunho

The quiet presence, the one who knows what you need before you say it. Passing you tissues, making you a cup of tea and most importantly holding you so that you can cry. Shedding angry tears about how frustrated you are with your own body for betraying you. For feeling weak. For missing out on things. He's gently calming every frayed nerve in your brain. Reassuring you that you're exactly where you need to be in this moment, and he will bring all of the fun to you. And he does, in small, manageable doses.

Yeosang

His way of caring for you is through caring for your outside. All the skin masks, hair treatments, skin softening lotions because if you feel cruddy, at least he can make you feel cute and comfortable. They do heal though, in their own way. The extra moisture of the humidifier and every cream and essence he buffs into your skin helps keep some of the aches away. Subsiding the itchiness of the nerve pain, just a little. And you can’t get over how cute Yeosang looks in each animal themed headband or with his hair tied back into teeny space buns or how nice his hands feel every time they glide over your skin.

San

Where Yunho is quietly attentive, San is passionately attentive. You cry, he cries (while holding you). Quite literally your pain, is his pain and he’s here to be with you through each step. No judgment is ever passed when he has to pick up your extra chores around the house. Because to him, that is the smallest act of service he can perform for you. San is the one who wishes he could take on your pain, that he could fight it and destroy it and it pains him that he cannot. So he will simply have to do everything else.

Mingi

He thrives on making you laugh and smile through tough days, because he understands feeling burdensome. Mingi never wants you to feel that way, he wants to make sure you verbally know that your presence is needed and welcome. His favorite thing is cuddled up in bed with you wrapped in your heated blanket watching shows. You looking so small in his arms, giving him the feeling of protecting something. He reassures you constantly, because he himself seeks constant reassurance. Mingi never tires of this, he will reaffirm every single self deprecating thought with a compliment even on his worst days.

Wooyoung

He cares for you with his skinship, which is incredibly healing. His happy heartbeat encourages yours. His strong hands make you feel loved and needed. Who would cuddle him if not you? Woo often reminds you, whispering the phrase into your ear as he traces his nails through your hair, or while rhythmically drawing circles on your spine. Making you float into dream land and anchoring you in the moment with him at the same time. Woo also loves making you whatever dish you’re craving, knowing you need energy to fight off fatigue and pain. And cooking is one of his many, many love languages.

Jongho

Needing to hoard all the extra rest you can get; you seek out solace at Jongho’s place for nap time. Jongho has taken notice, he’s also taken inventory as to which blankets of his you prefer, the pillows that keep you asleep the longest, what temperature you prefer the room to be based on what you’re wearing. All your favorite snacks before or after. New blackout curtains. He’s made his place your ultimate nap zone. New heated blankets. Duplicates of your fave lounge wear and socks. And he takes his payment in cuddles. Holding you tightly in his bed or sprawled on the couch. Sometimes he falls asleep himself and flips you onto your back to bury into your side like a full-sized teddy bear.

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emo-trash88 · 10 days

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hiya ! its 🦈 anon

Could I req the male reader x drunk stone but instead its switched? ((oneshot, btw)) stone having to take care of drunk reader 💀

take your time + no pressure! have a good day/noon/evening :)

- 🦈 anon

Yay, I missed youuu! And yes ofc I would love to do that! Also sorry this took so long to post 😭😭

Alcohol Tastes Better Than Tears

Stone x Drunk! Reader

Pronouns: second person, gender neutral

Word count: 575

Tw: Alcohol, vomit

Today sucks. In fact, you've had a terrible day. First you blow the whole robbery on your own, and then you can't even steal an apple to make your friends feel remotely better about how horrible you've done. You've given up on being good at anything at this point.

You look down at your hand, staring at the bottle Stone handed you after the heist. You think he just felt bad and wanted to do something nice? But it honestly made you just feel worse. You feel so terrible that not even alcohol could fix it. Well it wouldn't hurt to try you think to yourself and before you know it you're putting the bottle up to the lips and taking a small sip.

That one sip turned into 2 sips, then 3 sips, then 4. Then that turned into you barely holding an empty bottle and trying to prop yourself up on the wall of whatever building you were next to. Your eyes flutter shut softly, as exhaustion hits you like a fright train with a vendetta.

You wake up to the clatter of a bottle and a male voice going "God...what the hell happened to you?". You force your eyes open and lay your eyes upon...an emo? "Whaa~...?" You say, trying to sit up more properly. All you hear in return is a sigh and a crisp "You're drunk". The man leans down to try to help you up before you push him away. "I dont evin know u" You say, your words slurring very aggressively.

"Oh god...my names Stone, we're...friends." He says, the worst friends looking like it's paining him to say, "I'm taking you back to the others".

That led to him trying to lift you up even slightly, which sounded almost completely impossible because your entire body felt like it was filled with lead. But eventually after you almost falling on your ass several times, he was finally able to force you up and being semi able to walk.

"I feel gross..." You say, leaning against Stone as he leads you through the streets. You hadn't even realized it got this dark. "Please don't vomit on me." He says, and almost on cue, you bed over and vomit. "Bloody hell..." He says, trying to prop you upright and continue to drag you away.

After about an hour of him dragging you after you vomiting (because he has the body strength of a malnourished owl) you both finally reach the alleyway, where he essentially drops you on the ground and you immediately pass out. As he grabs a nearby rag and places it on you, Vinnie leans against a wall. "Stone, is that really a good way to treat your crush?" She says smirking to herself.

He glares at her aggressively before speaking "They're not my crush." he says angrily. He stands upright and looks at her. "I'm just teasing, make sure you don't stay up late lovebirds." she says, the last part barely audible and then walks away.

He sighs and sits down next to your unconscious body, glancing down at you to make sure you're still breathing. Maybe...maybe I should tell them he thinks to himself before looking at the ground and noticing, something on his shoes. "IS THAT FUCKING VOMIT!"

Idk if this is any good, but I hope it is 😭

#ramshackle #stone ramshackle #stone x reader ramshackle #ramshackle x reader #I'm not sure if I portrayed drunkess properly #it's a talent atp #🦈 anon

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zqmbiescorpse · 1 year

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GLADIATOR, PART 1

johanna mason x female reader

a/n: i'm listing tags below because they give a good description, include important information and this was originally intended for ao3. for the first part and for some of the second, johanna isn't there because i wanted to do some world building and you, the reader, has somewhat of a backstory and a last name but this is not at all a self insert i promise.

summary: after winning the 72nd hunger games, quite a name had been made for you in the capitol - quickly becoming a favourite across panem. because of this, naturally, you find yourself thrown back into the horror of the games due to the 3rd quarter quell, representing district 5 one last time. though, not all is lost, fellow tribute and close friend, johanna mason of district 7, finds herself in the same position.

tags: graphic depictions of violence (sometimes), johanna mason, katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, finnick odair, johanna mason x female reader, catching fire, mockingjay part 1, mockingjay part 2, 72nd hunger games, 75th hunger games, gore, eye gore, detailed descriptions of eyeball squishing, disabled reader, female reader, reader is missing an eye, reader is missing limbs, missing fingers, traumatic events, blood, choking, johanna mason needs a hug, rebellion, slow burn, mutual pining, scared of feelings, fluff, angst, making out, kissing, confessions, peeta has his prosthetic leg, maybe smut idk, tension, awkwardness, wlw, i love johanna so much

warnings for this part: gore, detailed descriptions of eyeball squishing (i'm sorry), murder, traumatic events, choking, suffocation, stabbing, blood (tbf it is the hunger games)

wordcount: 1.01k

(part 2) (masterlist)

Weapons long disregarded, tossed away into the sand, leaving you both unarmed - only your fists, or what you had left of them, could be used to beat the other to death. He was bulky, and taller than you. Still, you managed to have him pinned to the floor once more, with your hands wrapped tightly around his neck, slowly crushing his windpipe. You hated every second of it, the fear in his wide eyes looking up at yours, a disturbed red creeping into the whites.

Your grip wasn't as tight as it could've been, with only eight fingers, the middle and index missing on your right hand, your dominant hand. Hell, the pinky on your left was hanging on by what must have been a thread, only a red string of skin. You decided it was seven fingers remaining, desperately thinking of anything else aside from the spluttering boy beneath you. He was so close to death, you knew it and so did he.

With nothing else to save himself, the male district one tribute reached for your head, both his dirty, grazed hands placed on either side. They were large, nearly covering your entire face, and undoubtedly strong. You became more panicked, unsure of what he was going to do next, however, as you attempted to apply even more pressure to his neck, he also began to squeeze.

An eruption of agony shot through the right side of your skull, his thumbs burying deeper and deeper into your eye. For a brief moment, your grip weakened due to the unbearable burning sensation coming from the socket, which had been invaded by the boy's chipped fingernails, stabbing and squishing at your eye. This gave him enough of an opportunity to sit upright, gaining back control of the brawl, continuing to push even harder; really just digging his thumbs in as hard as he possibly could.

You were screaming now, the sounds causing your throat to feel sore and rough, though, how could it compare to the searing pain you felt elsewhere? Your eye was well out of place, edging forever inward, your vision on the right side now completely black, blinded. He started to scream too, echoing those of a primal being on a path to victory after suffering through a tormenting battle. The force was so intense you began to feel an uncomfortable sensation build up rapidly besides the excruciating pain; your eyeball was going to pop. Burning hot blood was gushing down the side of your face, running down all over your fellow tribute and falling down into his mouth, coating his teeth and his tongue with a thick red ooze.

You couldn't take it anymore, removing your hands from him in a desperate attempt to save whatever mush would be left in your socket in hopes of a salvage. Unfortunately for you, reaching up to claw at your own eye left you perfectly vulnerable and open. With one last push, he stuck his fingers as far as he could, such an immense amount of force you could've sworn the boy was moments away from crushing your skull - poking and prodding at the sensitive nerves within your damaged socket.

Another strangled screech violently came from within you as you felt a squelching burst trigger pure anguish, wet tears and warm blood trickling together down your face - mixing together to cause a disgusting mess. Too absorbed in the torturous suffering, you failed to remember the other blood thirsty tribute still present, who was now preparing to finally take your life.

You stumbled back, a new sense of disorientation upon you as you tried to put distance between yourself and the approaching Grim Reaper, the boy taking his time getting closer, a weird expression contorting into his features; the realisation that he was enjoying this made you crumble. Shuffling backwards frantically, one hand digging through the sand, the other glued to where your eye should be whilst the crimson substances flowed between your three fingers at an unstoppable pace.

So much pain. So much exhaustion.

The whole fight had been intense and raw, seemingly going on for hours. Scrapes and gashes littered your frail, disfigured body and your bones ached beyond belief. If that smug fuck hadn't made his way towards you any quicker, your chances of bleeding to death were a lot higher than dying by his hands. It deeply disturbed you how that same boy was powerless beneath you just minutes ago, terrified and so desperately wanting for his life. Then, there he was, smiling like a lunatic, caught up in the victory that hadn't yet arrived - seeming overjoyed to witness your suffering.

An early celebration, indeed. Part of you, at that moment, thanked any higher power you could think of, eternally grateful that the Careers couldn't help but be arrogant assholes who view themselves as undefeatable kings and queens. In the time wasted by the boy from district one strolling his way over to you, you had managed to come across your weapon, a long sort of sickle, sticking out of the sand not too far behind you.

You waited, fingers twitching at your side. You didn't want to reveal the weapon concealed by your back at the moment, but rather, let the foolish boy get closer. He should've ended you when he had the chance.

Mustering all the strength you had left, you ignored the throbbing that was pounding against your skull and swiftly grabbed the curved sword, hand tight around the handle as you lunged forward, knocking the tribute back down into the sand - beneath you for the final time.

Not an ounce of hesitation prevented you from what would soon haunt your every thought. At that time, you had no needs other than the one to end this, every sensation in your body numb, apart from a blazing desire in the pit of your stomach. The sharp blade plunged deep into his chest over and over and over again until the cannon boomed in the far distance, signalling his death. You had won.

#the hunger games #the hunger games catching fire #johanna mason #johanna mason x reader #x female reader #lqbtqa #fanfiction #katniss everdeen #finnick odair #thg haymitch #Peeta mellark x reader #finnick odair x reader

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look-how-they-massacred-them · 10 months

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Preliminary Poll

Newton Pud

Submission reason:

1. he was in (arguably) the worst/most buggy game in the trilogy, personally i think its a good game as long as you remember to back up your save regularly (lest all your progress and projects randomly corrupt), but most disagree with me. there was 6 years before the next game in the franchise, and many consider this to be the reason why/the one that "killed LittleBigPlanet". 2. if i had to guess, some head of the games writing (idk how all that works 100%) had just played portal 2 and decided that they needed to add wheatley to their game. it was early enough in that it didn't *totally* ruin his character, but the inspiration is obvious and only *kinda* works. its like they didnt understand how/why wheatley was an idiot but still likable and instead just settled for CONSTANTLY making EVERY CHARACTER call Newton an idiot, even though as show in-game, he's just not. he just easily cracks under pressure and reached a point where he was willing to do anything to impress people, including but not limited to *kidnapping a small child and tricking them into summoning demons with him, leading him getting possessed*. side note, theres a total of 1 (one) character who doesn't call him stupid, and only because he doesn't mention him at all. fans shipped them to hell and back (understandable). 3. most of his story is briefly mentioned and never elaborated on. arguably the most important piece of his backstory, his parents being world-renowned for their intelligence and him flunking out of school, is in a co-op only level that only briefly mentions it (and implies he was just stupid rather than the much more obvious reason of anxiety regarding living up to his parents (and implied the ENTIRE WORLDS) expectations of him). 4. the ending, possibly the most insulting part. after we see a cutscene of the last remaining Titan (the previously mentioned demons) playing into his insecurities, calling him "Nothing! You're nothing. All you are is a big embarrassment! […] Ooh, look at me, I'm Newton! Everything I make turns out rubbish! […] My dad's a legend but I'm an incompetent oik!", they're finally defeated and he's saved by the player characters (Sackboy, Oddsock, Toggle, and Swoop). they free fall out of the tower the Titans built but are luckily caught by Newton's dad Capt. Pud, who proceeds to berate his son and treat him like a child. he just saved their lives, you'd think he'd express a little concern before anger. They then ride the aircraft to his moms house, where Newton builds a PORTAL BETWEEN DIMENTIONS for the player character gang to visit a party, which he asks to join. they all look at him with disgust. continued in the dlc The Journey Home, they proceed to call him stupid one last time because the calibration of the DIMENTIONAL PORTAL HE BUILT HIMSELF was slightly off and sent them to different parts of the right world. it wasn't even that off, there were all in the right general area, but they just had to remind us how much of a moron he is. another side note, it's mentioned a few times that he hates his parents (or at least his mother), but the ending has them living together even though Newton has his own place. look, i understand that this is a game for kids and i shouldn't expect him to cut off his family, even with how they tend to treat him, but if they weren't going to commit they shouldn't have written him like that.

Propaganda:

play Sackboy: A Big Adventure available on ps4/ps5 and pc (epic games and steam). if you need encouraging watch the opening cutscene on youtube just trust me

#look how they massacred them poll #look how they massacred my boy #newton pud #little big planet #little big planet 3 #little big planet newton

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thyfleshc0nsumed · 2 months

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I really hope I can build my own strange kinky queer family someday, thanks for sharing parts of yours! It’s sexy but also heart warming?

This is legitimately so sweet. It honestly made me tear up a little

It's weird it kinda just... Happened. I met my sweetie 5 years ago now. We met on Grindr and she brought over some drinks and I was like "oh if you're at the grocery store, can you pick me up some milk." We dated for about six months and stopped seeing each other cuz life kinda got in the way. We saw each other a handful of times over the next two years and when I moved I asked if she could help, which she did. I hadn't even realized that I had moved less than 10 mins away from where she lives (she always came to me when we were dating)

I was still madly in love with her (tbh I'm realizing that she was really my first love) and she knew she couldn't give me what I wanted from her and she told me that. I needed a couple months to feel my feelings (and also get footing in my sobriety) before I was ready to be friends. Late fall of 2022 we started hanging out sometimrs again, and then probably spring ish of 2023 I met her Daddy. She started modeling some leather for me not long after I started doing it, but it wasn't until that spike strap photoshoot in ~ Oct 2023 that things got weird in some fun ways. That was like the first time I feel like I really domd her in a way that wasn't just for the camera. Since then, it's been a rollercoaster of constantly developing so many dynamics. She's my sweetie, she's my lover, she's my auntie, she's my sub, she's my best friend, she's so many things to me.

Her and her Daddy started dating like spring of 2022 and I was maaaaad jealous, I projected allllll my insecurities onto him, despite never having met him. The first time we hung out one on one was in late July of 2023 where we went and saw a screening of a porno. After that I think we saw each other at tranny takeover nights at one of the local cruising bars and just started hanging out in group and solo settings. He's truly one of my best friends in the world, and the brother I never got to have

I met his husband (the rabbit) not too long after and we've gotten really close too. One of the most insightful people I've had the pleasure to meet in my little time on this earth. Such a profoundly compassionate person who consistently challenges me to be kinder and gentler with myself. Theyre witty without ever being unkind, and goddamn can they carry a bit. Also they're really fucking good at pointing out when I'm letting ppl be transmisogynistic towards me cuz they're hot lmfao.

I met the femme, the rabbit's girlfriend at the rabbits birthday party last November. She's such a delightful presence and really admire how strongly she stands by her values. I remember a month or two ago, I was on some fuck shit, I don't even remember what, and she was like "hey girl you're on some fuck shit." I respect the hell out of her, and am so glad she's in our weird little crew

I didn't realize what we had was a family until recently. It was a lot of things tbh but I think it was this moment I had in January that really showed me. I was having the worst mental health moment I had had in probably a year. I was feeling so unstable. I was out and I was feeling impulsive. I was planning on either going and getting fucked by some guys at the cruising bar or getting in the lake with my clothes on. The daddy told me to come over cuz I clearly wasn't okay. I did. By the time I got to their spot it was probably 11p and I was nonverbal. The rabbit made me a bagel. The daddy got me a stuffed animal to squeeze. It was probably 45 minutes before I got even a single word out. And they were fine with that. They didn't pressure me to talk, but they didn't ignore me either. They let me be with them the way I needed to be. And when I was ready to talk, I was met with such compassion and emotional intelligence and love. I was taken care of in ways a family does.

Idk. This was long. And maybe over share y. I just. I fucking love these people so much and it kinda all spilled out.

#family #hi lil brother #hi auntie #also just using the monikers from the photo account to preserve a little anonymity

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cosmicalart · 21 days

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An Ask Game for Writers to Procrastinate Working on Your WIP(s)

Thank you @valeffelees for tagging me, I've seen this going around and been in the mood for ask games so this is great.

🦈 Tell us the name of one of your WIP(s)

Baz to The Past

🍄 Describe one of your WIPs in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

witness protection + freedom = runaway simon

🌍 What tags or warnings will your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it?

Gonna answer this with my original story as most of my fics don't really have warnings. Alcohol abuse, drug abuse, sexual violence, eating disorders, homophobia (historical and modern), gore, body horror (in the monster sense), domestic abuse, abusive relationships, PTSD, generational trauma, and suicidal thoughts. There's probably a lot more as I work on it, this story starts out very dark, everybody is fucked up, but a lot of the story is about the characters dealing with these things and recovering so its suppose to end on a much happier note

🧭 An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?

No idea lol

⚠️ Which WIP you’re most likely to finish or update next?

Baz to the Past, everything else is still in just the brainstorming/plotting stages, but I'm still slowly working on BTTP

💾 What is the document of your WIP called? (Not the story title, but what you’ve saved it as.)

Time travel fic (thats what my outline for Baz to The Past is called lol)

🖍 Post any sentence from your WIP

(This is from a different time travel fic)

The window had lost its chill after the first hour, my breath leaving a permanent fog. By this point, I couldn’t focus on the scene passing by, the vibrations of the glass against my head coupled with the radio had a headache building behind my eyes. And yet, I didn’t care enough to move at the moment.

♻️ A scrapped idea for your current WIP

Had a character in my original story I was gonna have be a lesbian but scrapped that for her to be alloaro as it felt like it fit her character more (plus being somewhat aspect myself I wanted to add some rep)

🤔 What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Paranormal youtuber snowbaz

🤡 How many WIPs are you actively working on?

Actively, 3. In total I probably got like 8 in some stages of progress

🛠 Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

Chapter four of BTTP, when simon and Baz come back from dinner

❤️ Not a question, just a second kudos to send.

Hell yeah

This was really fun. Apologies for any duplicates, idk whos done this or not, and no pressure to do it.

@letraspal @kianlime @thewholelemon @that-disabled-princess @cultofsappho @krisrix @larkral @ionlydrinkhotwater @facewithoutheart @martsonmars

#ask game

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typhoonvash · 2 months

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// Canary Is Not Immune To Plant Bloom Headcanons

while bloom is seasonal, it can happen if around flora that are also in bloom

even if triggered by other flora, it will last a month. sorry canary.

he tries so, so hard to hide it. he.. kinda succeeds... but there are things that he can't hide.

for instance his body temperature rises significantly. enough so that if someone is sleeping next to him or touching him for whatever reason, they'd legitimately think the poor guy's deathly sick. he usually runs so, so cold.

but also usually he can't sleep. too much energy. can't sleep, won't get tired, but this leads to extreme boredom and (likely) shenanigans when he tries to do anything to get his mind off of fking/getting fked

some of this extra energy is given to his partner(s), so they also often dont feel the need for sleep. eventually they gotta though. don't mind the man with bright cyan eyes watching you from the corner of the room, it's normal.

inhuman qualities are enhanced: eyes more glowy, shows teeth more often (smiles, fangies outside lips, etc), faster, stronger, more vines, stronger glowies (harder to control when glowing also)

he um. also tends to get larger and longer when topping.

despite his Extreme Horny it's still only for people close to him. this. made blooms quite often just an inconvenience that he could deal with. having people he is involved with??? well now it's so over for him.

switches between blanketing himself in bed writhing around and pacing and going on MANY walkies. basically just keeps himself moving because it feels like his entire skin's gonna vibrate off his body.

getting what he wants does help, but the general feeling lasts a full month. it just gets weaker after a bit of a marathon. if fked daily, he feels (almost) normal every day! yay!

his taste changes from something akin to peaches (and slick) to a flowery-sweet aromatic flavor. skin, sweat, saliva, the man is practically a sprig of lavender. it may seem great, but the scent is extremely strong. can make it... difficult... to hide. in general.

while his ~*~fluids~*~ (look i'm trying not to trigger any no-no words) normally have an aphrodisiac effect, during bloom it's um. intense. we're talking like, "if you have an erection lasting longer than 4 hrs consult a doctor" levels of intense. it's fine. don't worry about it.

on the bright side, his self-healing is super jacked!

...tends to get very clingy/possessive (not in a toxic way) though. can get whiny even when partner gets up to just. go get food or something.

doesn't do the whole nest building thing. he does just like having pressure on him though—so blankievash, partner just flopping on top of him, hell, even restraints, are favorite things during the month.

because it's so dry on gunsmoke, he ends up static shocking people often. hair also stands on end (just a bit, kind of just looks like his usual hair but slightly messier)

once you get a taste, you crave more. so long as you stay near this idiot, you'll have a thirst that can't really be quenched unless... yeah.

tends to? collect things?? he'll just pick stuff up and bring it to his partner(s) as a gift. some kind of mating ritual.

look basically what i'm saying is that this man's body is a mess and keeping contained is near impossible. also, assuming they are sexually active (are also adults and are interested in sex at all), people in close enough proximity to him will just be inexplicably horny. doesn't have to be for him, isn't an impulse to fuck right then and there; it's just a. "huh weird" kind of "why am i horny this time" sensation.

all of this is by discussion only ofc. there's also the uh, whole reason for blooming, but again. that's a touchy subject and it's SUPER BY DISCUSSION ONLY BECAUSE UuuUUuuuHHh yeah. like i don't mind, but also like. idk. it's touchy. anyway if you read this i'm sorry my man is a little freak.

#[they put canons in his head]#[mortal indulgences; nsfw]#//ooc//

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mister-eames · 8 months

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I know it’s been said before, but you spark so much joy with your headcanon & arthur/eames discussions 🥺 also! Still thinking of that pic of Tom Hardy in a muscle tee & other recent photos of him where he is lots of grey in his beard. Idk if you saw JGL at the ceremony where he presented rian Johnson with an award but he had a deep velvet plum suit on, a beard and his hair is long & wavy. & now I’m thinking about older eames/Arthur who are comfortable happy and still sickeningly in love

Nonnie!!!!!!! Thank you so much for stopping by, these asks always are so thought provoking and indulge me so much, I'm always happy to talk about Arthur/Eames and Inception in general!

Okay so, I had not seen that video and I am SO GLAD you brought it to my attention. JGL LOOKS SO FREAKING GOOD!!! THE SUIT!!! THE BEARD!!! THE CURLS!!!!!! Oh my god. If anyone has not seen the video check it out here you wont regret it.

And, you said it -- "Comfortable, happy and (still) sickeningly in love" is all I want for Arthur and Eames (and my life tbh). My headcanon is that they settle down and retire and while they still dabble in a little criminal action here and there (like being criminally sexy!!!) they live quieter lives a handful of years after the Fischer job. They love each other, right? They want to be safer because they want to build a life over building dreams, because life can be so short, you know, and I think in the film you learn just that--anything can happen at any given moment and you just...slow the hell down. Even when that means taking life in the slow lane and changing course - and so they do.

I imagine Arthur and Eames in their forties and fifties, teaching and consulting for work - Eames being disgusted every time he does his taxes and Arthur being disgusted with himself for wearing polo shirts in the summer and secretly loving it. They are starting to go grey, more grey with every handful of years - they are starting to go soft in places. There are crows eyes and forehead lines and heartburn and creaky bones. Diets to manage IBS and blood pressure. Worse, they start to do things their parents used to do -- like watch the news on TV and mutter into their dinner about idiot politicians and neighbours who park like dickheads on the street and wont trim their trees back out of their yard, and they reminisce about how things were different when they were kids and seriously why the fuck are they the only normal people who live on this street?

They keep busy. They learn new things. For his forty-fifth birthday Arthur builds Eames a library in their Philadelphia home with his bare hands. Eames buys the battered skeleton of a '67 Ford Mustang and restores it for Arthur. They read books and watch movies in bed and keep guns in their bedsides just in case. They go on long drives together and still sometimes travel the world to see old faces and so they still remember what it feels like to be homesick and miss the good life. Eames' knees play up. Arthurs back has seen better days. They're uncles to their siblings kids and to Phillipa and James. And they take that job very seriously.

They still have their domestics and spats every now and then. But they make up and move on. They're partners (in life and crime) and they get their thrills out of making the other happy. They're the people the other cannot wait to come home to.

They have always attempted to manufacture their own luck and they finally did it because here they are, content and happy.

#they trim their neighbours damn trees back in the middle of the night and leave the branches on their doorstep to trip over #they steal their other neighbours paper (they get their dog to do it) at random so no one knows its them #i only do happy endings #maybe i'm getting boring but i just love domestic arthur and eames #growing old(er) together #seeing their priorities change like ours all do when we grow and age #because there is a point in life #especially ESPECIALLY when you lived fast and hard in your twenties #and/or earlier #that you say #'nah no more im done ive done it i want some fucking peace and quiet'#and you are grateful for that peace and quiet #because while you would never regret the experiences you had living hard and fast #even the grief #the loss the awfulness #you wouldn't change the peace for anything #you feel like you earned the stillness and the quiet #and it is valued to the point of it being priceless because of those tumultuous years #when you didn't have it before and you get it you don't want to give it up #and maybe every day is not sunshine and daisies #but you're no longer in survival mode #and while the memories of before are rose-tinted frankly you never want to go back there #the domestic fics are the most 'realistic' ones to me #for this reason #anyway nonnie i appreciate you #arthur x eames #inception #now i want to write a 5k slice of life fic

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wtpb-rcp · 4 months

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What headcanons do you have for the HUMAN side cast of RCP, their family trees, and more?

@canyonkingdom you might appreciate this post...or not. Idk.

(This is a hyperfixation moment fr fr)

I've hyperfixated too much on Mr. Wheeler's own family tree while building the WTPB AU (ALL the way before it was called WTPB...and at its first roots of shame) and so here's my family tree+info+spoilers for my AU? (and is that some certain people commenting?! Helly, I told you to shut the wall off! /j)

(The thing is, this devolved into some expanded lore shit. Forgive me for the wall of formatted words and colors.)

Unknown great grandfather marries unknown great grandmother, thus Rick Wheeler is born. He grew up with the smell of wheels and people and vehicles alike buying from him. He got no bigotry for some reason since his parents have to keep up a good facade (they're the bigots) and they're always busy, although he got his dad's negative traits.

Later on, he married a woman named Reese Cougart, and both have an only child named Gerald Wheeler. And since Gerald grew up in the late 70's and then towards the 80's...yeah take a guess.

After Reese died in '80 and The Incident of '84 happened, Gerald mysteriously broke contact and connections with one of his last friend from their highschool friend group (that he also helped with, as a programmer, making the set of code and blueprints that is now called "The Robocar Code"), Steve Harrison. Rick was never told by his own son why he did so, and when he did found out at '93, he got mad and also broke contact with his son (not that he doesn't deserve it, anyways...he got what was coming after him, and even if I pity his falling out, he still went on as if it never happened, never affected...never the one at fault of his emotional failure)

Rick also moved to Broomstown (it's spelled that way 'round here), out of pure spite and pettiness (it runs in the family. The girls don't get it, though), and there he stayed until now. Broomstown is also Steve's hometown, and Rick's father used to live there as well.

Meanwhile, Steve somehow found Gerald's contact and encouraged him to go into his place. There, he met Steve's sister, Marcy, and both took about two years before they married, due to fixing interpersonal issues. (Dude, where's the reason why they hooked up? No idea.) That doesn't mean Gerald changed his other ways.

One day, somewhen in 2001, Gerald was rushing his now wife into the hospital due to her about to give birth to who we now (vaguely in canon) knew as Betty. However, due to his frantic driving skills and arguing with his vehicle the wrong way, they got into an accident. Fortunately, someone saw them and called for help at the hospital, which happened to be right near the accident spot...and where Amber worked in (oh my, we're really connected). Upon seeing Amber's presence, Gerald was, well, shocked, and the cries of Betty are drowned by him shouting at his ex-friend Steve due to him giving away the blueprints and script to make a Robocar, and Rick somehow indirectly heard of this so that night was intense hell.

Fast forward one year later, Gerald and his family moved into Japan due to his job application being accepted. It was hard to adapt at first, but it went smoothly after. Here, Betty was supposed to be not taught about her grandfather, just her mom's parents, but she still did knew of Rick Wheeler. So by childlike pleas, Gerald gave in and lets her send letters to Rick since he is still not used to the trending phones (I'm happy Mr. Wheeler isn't so cranky for his granddaughter!). At the same time of this moment, Steve and his wife, Casey, divorced on good terms and for the sake of good, due to Casey discovering Steve's closetness and Steve having responsibilities and pressure about what happened in the past. Casey still kept the Harrison surname, though, so Jin grew up to become a Harrison, contacting her biological dad through messages and birthday gifts.

A highschooler keeping in touch even after a tragic event. A kid keeping in touch, oblivious of what transpired in the past, to say.

Jin and her mom moved into Broomstown on September 17, 2004, and Rick is willing to nag his pal, Ollie Buster (aka Mr. Builder), to help the two girls settle in this town.

And then, many years passed...after Jin dropped out of college...after the Rescue team of Broomstown are formed...after that incident...

"Jin, I have some shocking news."

"Huh? What is it, Mr. Wheeler?"

"You know my son, right?"

"Oh, Gerald? Last time I've heard of him, my bio dad is trying to mess with his date, who happened to be bio dad's sister. R-a late relative... told me about it when I was ten. I was still impressed that even if he wanted to break contact with my bio dad, Mr. Gerald still ends up being connected to him."

"Well, the thing is...he has a newborn son!"

"That's great, I guess."

"And he's...gonna move into this town because his wife insists so and he quit his job because he lost the drive to continue it."

"Oh my..."

~~~

"Oh no."

"Huh?"

"I'm just gonna pluck that little blackthorn..."

#robocar poli #robocarpoliau #headcanon #WTPB-info

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biaswreckingfics · 2 years

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About that prompts list...is really hard to choose something omg

Idk what to do lol like do I go for something spooky or do I want to suffer from angst 🥴

If you can, please do Wooyoung (ateez) 122+134 since is the month of Halloween something spooky will be good

And...

Yeonjun 20+21, please I'm always weak for your angst

Thank you for doing this prompt list ��️ and if you can't write the requests is totally fine, no pressure love 😘

Wooyoung + Spooky -Yeonjun's will be coming soon!! I like that you've decided to do both angst and spooky, and thank you for requesting spooky one!! ❤️❤️-

(Did you hear that? + Whatever you do, don't turn around.)

When your small group of friends suggested you all break into the haunted house at the edge of the woods, you nervously laughed. You're all chicken shit, so you didn't think the suggestion would ever be taken seriously. To your surprise, they all worked each other up, and the next thing you knew, you were all standing outside of the house, working up the nerve to go inside.

Your hands immediately clench onto Wooyoung's hoodie and he looks back at you in amusement. Although, you don't know why because you know the second he gets into the house, he'll be terrified. You look up at the dilapidated structure and take in the busted windows and broken porch. This is such a stupid idea. If you don't all die from being scared to death, you can always die from an infection thanks to a rusty nail instead.

Following Yeosang and Hongjoong, you and Wooyoung walk into the house. The inside is just as disgusting as the outside. Overturned furniture is thrown around, graffiti is painted on the walls, and pieces of glass crunch under your feet. A sound on the other side of the house reaches your ears and your fingers twist into Wooyoung's hoodie even more.

"Did you hear that?"

"It's an old house," Hongjoong tries to calm you. "They make all types of weird sounds… or maybe it's an animal that lives here."

You try to let his words calm you, but something isn't sitting right with you. This entire place feels wrong. Maybe it's because you're not supposed to be here, but you're getting bad vibes from the rickety building.

The front door slams shut behind you, and you all scream and turn towards it. There's no reason that door should've shut. There's no wind, and it doesn't feel like the place is leaning or angled weird, but there has to be a logical reason, right?

You feel Wooyoung begin to move away and you turn back to see the group moving deeper into the house. Before you can complain about how stupid this is, banging on the walls surrounds you. The sound comes from everywhere all at once, but you see nothing that's causing it.

The group takes off in different directions, scared by the activity, and because you're attached to Wooyoung, you end up trailing behind him. He runs into a room off to the side and leans against the wall next to the door. You come flying in after him and the two of you drop to the ground and hunch over.

Facing Wooyoung and the door to the living room, you see the fear on his face as the banging continues. You watch the living room, wondering where the other two went when it suddenly goes quiet. The banging stops and you peek around the corner to find the room as boring and empty as it originally was.

You glance at Wooyoung and note that he's looking over your shoulder at whatever room you ran into. "Whatever it was, I think it's over."

He doesn't acknowledge your words and when you begin to stand up, his arms dart out to grab yours and keep you squatted to the ground.

"What are you doing? Let's get the hell out of here."

When you try to stand up again, his grip tightens. You become irritated until his eyes slowly slide over to yours. The pure terror in them has you freezing in place.

"Whatever you do, do not turn around," he whispers. "I want you to stand up and run out of this house like it's on fire. Do you hear me?"

His expression, his tone, and his intensity have you gripped in fear, but you nod. The urge to turn around is now extremely strong, but you maintain eye contact with him. He nods back and asks if you're ready.

When you tell him yes, an answering growl behind you causes you to whimper. He quickly stands up, grabbing your hand, and the two of you run out of the house like the demons of hell are chasing you themselves.

#wooyoung drabble #wooyoung fic #wooyoung fanfic #wooyoung au #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung imagines #ateez drabbles #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez imagines #spooktober #spooky #jung wooyoung fanfic #jung wooyoung fic #jung wooyoung scenarios #jung wooyoung au

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breeding-puppie · 7 months

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I know...people say there's a lot to look forward to...but I'm thinking after 25 if nothing changes...idk

I think putting a time limit on yourself is what causes so much stress and pressure too. You're putting yourself in a box that isn't set by anyone but you (and maybe some people around you with toxic thinking).

I stopped pressuring myself to find a career, life goal, or figure out how to adult properly and thought I'd just try to go with the flow for a while. Personally I legitimately have never been this happy in my life, and it's not great, I have a lot of issues in my day to day, but I'm at peace with myself.

Hell I'm even finding my career path after stressing over it for years. I'm content with being single or with being in a relationship. I'm motivated to do better for myself and my body.

Things will flow to you much easier when you stop building a dam out of your expectations. I know that it's pressured into us but it's not human nature to have everything figured out. It's human nature to follow our basic survival instincts and needs.

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goldenbinturong · 25 days

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I find myself thinking about Bruce Wayne if he wasn't Batman, and I really like Poison Ivy because I also go crazy when doing research projects so here's...whatever this is (idk the ship name for them but uh this doesn't include that, sorry in advance)

Also I vibe with the DC Continuity Project, which helped immensely in deciding what, who and when (Because canon likes retconning origin stories to hell and back, I'm using their timeline for Ivy & Bruce's story)

At 14-years-old, Bruce Wayne's plans to become a jack-of-all-trades martial artist is shot down by Alfred Pennyworth.

Truthfully, it took months of arguments, and the butler did fear for a moment the teen would never forgive him for putting his foot down.

However, after a very productive conversation (aka Bruce finally breaking down under the weight of grief and the pressure of a legacy), Alfred agreed he could travel and study so long as he promised to not just be a recluse and actually finish his schooling.

Fast-foward, 19-year-old Bruce Wayne and 18-year-old Pamela Isley meet in Seattle. Bruce is looking into alternative landscaping projects with altered plants that can withstand Gotham's pollution, meanwhile Pamela is conducting her botanical biochemistry research with Woodrue.

They see kindred souls in each other - stand off-ish, orphans, highly independent and emotionally wack - and begin to bond.

When Woodrue encourages Pamela to be part of his experiments, Bruce is alarmed and they argue about it. Pamela is convinced this is her chance to make connections in higher academia, and that Bruce wouldn't understand because he was rich.

However, as things get out of control and Pamela is affected by the experiments, they team-up to get Woodrue arrested. (Idk how but let's suspend our belief okie)

Woodrue is imprisoned. Both think all's well that ends well, but Pamela starts developing the side affects of whatever was injected in her, causing mood swings, green skin and weird spores sometimes.

Seeing that Pamela's dealing with huge amounts of self-hatred and regret, Bruce offers up the manor as a safe haven while they try to figure out how to tamper the effects.

Pamela spends the next year in the care of Alfred, forming a bond with the butler and growing to see him as a parental figure as well. Bruce continues his traveling, but gives Pamela full reign and budget to conduct research on her physical condition.

Aside from learning what exactly her new powers are and creating a syrum that undoes her unnatural appearance for short periods of time, Pamela focuses on regaining her emotional bearings with the support of Bruce and Alfred, and what she plans to do with her life in the future.

Fast-forward again, Pamela finishes her undergraduate degree and continues her graduate work, utilizing the syrum to continue her life in the public. She's 22-years-old, and a 23-year-old Bruce is set to return to Gotham next year.

She's excited! She has friends, a good mentor helping with her research, and peers who respect her. She has a family, a father and a brother, that support her. She got lucky enough that financial burdens aren't on her mind and she has a handle on her condition, allowing her to live a normal life.

It all comes to a head when the laboratory she uses is attacked. It's chaos, there's fire and rubble everywhere. Pamela has to limp out of the building, past the bodies of her coworkers and mentor.

As she escapes alongside other survivors, devastation reigns in her mind. She wants to cry about the people she's lost, she wants to scream about how her hard work has been destroyed but most of all, she's angry at the injustice, and she wants to kill the motherfucker who thinks trampling on innocents is okay.

She refrains from telling Alfred, but immediately calls up Bruce and is like, "What if I fight crime in Gotham?" And Bruce is so on board, he arrives earlier than planned to train her.

(Bruce - "Alfred doesn't know I still did martial arts while studying...let's keep that between us." He's also secretely smug that one of two wards still ended up fighting crime.)

The next year consists of preparing - her suit is designed (since it's Bruce, he hyperfixates on the practical aspects of it and how to achieve maximum protection while still allowing her spores to permeate), communication systems are created and, once Alfred finds out, the cave is set up.

(Pamela - "I live off of sunlight, why does our base of operations have to be underground? Why can't it be in the manor?")

(Bruce - "We must work in the shadows for maximum effectiveness...also it's cool.")

Once Pamela's 23 and Bruce is 24, Gotham meets its first-ever superhero.

She's unnamed for a while, her call-name on comms just being P (Bruce being B), but after Joker almost poisons the Gotham Reservoir, Pamela manages to catch-him off guard by acting too hurt to fight and casting itchy spores onto his person.

"Surprised? Don't you know poison ivy never dies?"

(Later on, Gordon laughs as she retells the story, "Poison Ivy? It fits you!")

(Also Bruce, once she's back in the manor, "We can work with Poison Ivy... also it does stop itching five years after death so... you're kinda wrong.")

I imagine that although Pamela loves children, she wouldn't immediately think to adopt Dick. Bruce, however, would absolutely be demanding through her earpiece that she bring back this miserable boy.

Insanely funny as well that once the Justice League sets up, they're like, "Hey, Ivy, if you've got powers, why use gadgets?"

And she's like, "Well yeah, but B says it's important to have backup plans."

They're like, "Who's B???"

Anyway I might post more ideas about this universe if they pop up in my head (was hoping to make it superbat but I ended up falling in love with Ivy so she's the star)

#batman #dc #dc comics #pamela isley #poison ivy #alfred pennyworth

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paellegere · 3 months

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final thoughts: hannibal season 1

one thing about me is that i am a big fan of tragedies and mysteries and horrible, terrible things, but i also get unbearably frustrated with the ways these stories can unfold until i hit the point of catharsis. right now i am so, so deeply frustrated with how the season ended. it was so well done and i am empathizing with will to no end.

i'm clutching my head and groaning—and i especially want to know, did will even try telling them the truth? did he present his case? was the fbi so ready to dismiss it after all he'd done for them? that's the most frustrating part. because either will didn't say anything—which is frustrating in itself—or he did and they didn't believe him.

(i feel like i need to start season 2 immediately, just to find some kind of closure here. idk how people who watched this live managed to survive that finale)

anyway, the symbolism and use of motifs were so, so good. from the way hannibal has a moose statue in his office to the way will's nightmares and hallucinations unfolded, everything was masterfully executed. the moose is by far my favorite symbol, and i love how it was used at key points in the story and pushed development in the plot, in will's degradation, and in his realization. morphing the moose into hannibal in the finale was a great choice because it showed the exact moment when he finally accepted the truth.

i like how this show is structured. it's not quite episodic while still maintaining elements of that structure: a "new case" every episode, namely. using that structure especially in the beginning of the season let the pressure really build up without giving will a chance to come down from it all and recover, and it added tension to the story instead of taking away from it, as is usually the case in episodic stories. it was really unique and i'm so impressed with how they combined structures to create this story.

the characters are also pretty awesome in the way most of them are just deeply unlikable. they all make terrible decisions at some point or another, whether they mean to or not, and they all hurt one another in some way. even characters like alana contribute to the building tension through her decisions even despite being a rather level-headed and ethical person! and that's just the tip of the iceberg: it just gets worse from thereon in.

it only took me three days to watch the first season, so i'm tempted to go ahead and start the second... at this rate, i could finish the series in a week. but i can't tell if i need time to recover from that finale, or if i want to plow on ahead and relieve myself from this tension! i will decide after i hit send post lmao. or maybe i'll read a fic or something. who knows. but i am definitely looking forward to season 2—i need to know what comes after this and how, presumably, will gets the hell out of jail.

#liveblogging: hannibal #jesus christ #.txt

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rumblelibrary · 3 years

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I'm not sure if you have already done something like this before, and if you did, please let me know, I'd love to read it, BUT I was wondering if you could do a little thing, maybe with Sebastian Zöllner, where he is like totally behind on every fucking deadline, work is just piling up, he got into stress with his ex, the dishes are not done, he should go take out the trash, you know, everything is just piling up and he just cracks under the pressure, severely doubting his worth as a person. And his friend, the reader, gotta try their best to build him up again, telling him all the things they love about him, and it slowly turns into a love confession without them noticing.

Is this too elaborate, does that make sense for Seb? Idk. To me it does? Like he's always very...Seb around other people, but deep down I feel like he's always under this pressure to live up to his own and others expectations, wanting to be big and famous and perfect in a way.

I'm so sorry, brain go brrr.

Never Enough [Sebastian Zöllner x Reader]

Word Count: 4k Warnings: bad habits (heavy smoking and drinking), self deprecation, depression and some fluff in the end. A/N: I loved this prompt, I love to write Sebastian so thanks to you once more for giving me this opportunity

He should have probably realised something was wrong when the ashtray was vomiting cigarettes out from its dooming position beside the laptop.

He nervously used the left part of the one he just ended to scavenge some space and just pressed it along the others.

Or maybe when after another sip of the same cold coffee mixed with cheap gin he felt the walls of his stomach revolting and stirring against him, threatening a much bigger damage.

Or, again, when he felt like calling back Elke because he was so alone and he was hungry and tired, and she might hate him but he could pull some puppy eyes and maybe it would work. It usually did.

The truth was that he shouldn’t have taken up so many jobs, but the bank account was crying and he needed them, he needed the money.

But again: writing about the umpteenth girl- artist performing naked on a famous historic location?

Or do we have to talk about the way somebody splashed some colour here and there on a canvas saying it is the catharsis of his young mind against the social construct?

Please, may God spare him from the man calling himself landscape artist because he takes pictures of naked girls on a field.

Charged up with this amount of nothingness, he could just write and delete, write and delete, words count going quickly up to 400 only to go back at 0 in a snap of his fingers over the buttons, because he couldn’t just tear them down. He had to give them some hope, a glimpse of potential he couldn’t see and he wasn’t even aware it existed. Each of them disgusted him, but he was specifically asked to be entertaining and not a killer with his words.

So he kept swiping up videos and photos of these artists, trying to find one thing, one holy grail to get attached to and finally write one good optimistic line in the middle of the words he had to pull up to keep a moderate tone.

He rubbed his temple running over his hairline, which by the way was perfectly fine, before his hand reached down and he touched his t-shirt pulling on the neckline to gather some air, he was wearing his pyjama still, white stained shirt on blue tartan pants. He raised up the shirt and bowed his head down giving in a long inhale from the inside and just cringed to himself.

He looked around as he couldn’t stand up, if he did then he will get only more distracted and these articles needed to be ready for tomorrow.

He noticed the spray against the mosquitos on the floor, those little bastards always hiding under his desk to bite his ankles, he picked it up and sprayed it over himself like it was perfume hoping to ignore the need of a shower for few more hours.

His eyes scanned the small studio flat he was living now: the dishes sticking out of the sink, the noisy fridge buzzing. The one table that was also his work desk filled with used mugs, stained plates covered in cigarettes and leftovers, empty packages of his favourite brand discarded everywhere: from the bathroom up to the couch and to the small bed he owned. Damn, if he run out of cigarette it will be hard to ignore how he also run out of food.

The space was dark and gloomy, some of his stuff still packed up, the fake pop art panting of him and Elke staring at him reminding him of his other loss.

He didn’t touch the bed in days, he just slept on the seat or on the couch.

His attention was attracted by his phone buzzing.

He sat up straight as it was her, it was Elke.

Did she sense his discomfort?

“Elke” he picked up the call in a second.

“Wow, a quick answer, did you have your phone already in your hand or it happens just so late at night?”

Her sarcasm did’t go past him, but he just thought how long it was since he heard a human voice and not the recording of some idiot calling himself artist.

“No, I was thinking of you”

“Yes, sure, look I have sent you an email with the bills of the time you were here, the ones you have left to pay and it is only fair that you pay at least half of them”

“Sure” he just said it because he wanted to go past the point of money, he wanted her back. Maybe he could crush at her place, feel her hands through his hair, shower, sleep some good sleep and the articles will come around in few types “Elke, I was thinking we might…”

“I just called you for the bills”

“I know, but maybe we could have” his eyes darted at the top right of his laptop screen to see the time “a drink together?”

She huffed a laughter as he frowned lightly “I know you Seb, if it is money or sex what you’re looking for that door is closed and it has been for a long time”

“I know” he murmured as he let out a breathy sigh, a dooming sense of loneliness creeping over him like a giant spider ready to wrap him up and eat him “I just hoped…”

“Don’t hope Sebastian, you’re already an hopeless cause”

She hung up on him and he was left there, he kept that same pose with his phone against his ear. His eyes trailing once again over the empty page of his document on the screen, on the chaos surrounding him.

He nibbled on his bottom lip before running his tongue over the pained area.

He pushed the phone back down on the table with a tremble of his jaw and a shaky hand.

She was right.

What he did of his life anyway? He lost most of his occasions in life, he was now in his thirties and he concluded nothing of what he hoped to be, he failed in all the departments both as an artist and as a critic.

A jack of all trades is a master of none, and maybe only the first type of the famous quote could be applied to him.

He couldn’t even take the trash out or he couldn’t remember the last time he ate something that was vaguely resembling of fruits or vegetables. It is all good when you imagine yourself as a bohemian rooting against the world, when you convince yourself that’s only the proof you needed to know you are fighting well against a system of art that privileges banality and marketing over real artistic value and that, one day, all your struggles will be worth it.

Even Picasso was poor for a long time in Paris.

Damn, maybe to be in a situation like this in Paris would sound more romantic.

But the truth was: he never imagined to have to do it alone, that life would feel so overwhelming, that there wouldn’t be anything but extreme struggle, anger, loneliness and a terrible diet.

For a moment he wished to be a baby again, to be the bright boy he was and let mommy take care of his needs and his dirty shirt and empty stomach. He wished that maybe somebody noticed him before, that somebody saw his talent and helped him to pull it out instead of leaving him to do it on his own only to come late to every step.

And now it is too late, he is lost in the sea of terrible paid jobs and anguishing relationships, let’s not forget maybe he indeed had a receding hairline and he was doomed to get bold .

He squeezed his eyes as a soft sob took over his lip, hand running over his forehead as he pulled on his hair justifying his tears with some physical pain. He shook his head as he tried to gain back some composure, hand flung over to pick up his coffee mug and giving in a long gulp of the coffee, the same one he swore before to not touch again, only to almost choke on it, couching it out only to pick up the bottom hem of his shirt to clean his laptop screen.

He fucking hated to write on a computer, the old typewriters inspired him but that damn ink was too expensive now for his sore pockets.

He smirked to himself as he kept doing it, finding good excuses to call himself off any responsibility. But maybe Elke was right, well she surely was, she had two degrees, maybe he was really a lot cause. He frowned as he wiped slowly the screen with his already stained shirt, the wetness sticking then against his skin as soon as he let it go giving him another shiver.

He didn’t have even the strength to cry, he could only accept it was over.

The curse that he shouted out loud when he heard knocking at the door, smashing him out of his thought spiral, generated an immediate anger reaction from him.

“Fuck, shit, if it is the fucking neighbour, I swear I will kill her cat or that rat she has as cat, fucking hell”

He grumbled as he stood up moving across the table not caring about his state, he only wanted to crawl back into a ball and maybe nuzzle a bit somewhere.

When his death glare appeared after the door opened in a powerful swing his eyebrows lifted immediately finding you on the other side.

He blinked, one of those sleepy blinks where somebody closes his eyes and then opens them really wide to make sure it is not made up in their brain, that one.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“You should wash your mouth with holy water Sebastian” you said shaking your head raising your arms to show him some paper bags “I am bringing food and body shower”

He shook his head “Are you calling me stinky?”

“I am” You quickly replied moving past him into his place ignoring his groan.

He stood by the door slowly closing it, he was sure that old bitch was looking through her peephole, only then he stared at you try to make your way into the filthy kitchen. He was really embarrassed about his antics, but surely this time he exceeded some record.

“I am speechless Seb, I helped you with the moving and this place seems to have taken over you” you said as you knew he was in some rut when he kept such a long phone silence.

He was usually always texting, sending memes or one sentence texts.

You cared about him, deeply, you knew he was full of flaws and little quirks, but that’s what made him special. Nevertheless, you were worried about the state of the place, how it showed the way he let himself get dragged through the days. So he observed you, better to say, your back, the way you moved around opening the window to let fresh air inside, turning on a lamp to make some light that wasn’t just the blue one of the screen. Pulling out commodities and food from your magic bags like some sort of Mary Poppins of struggling writers. How you poured soap in the dirty load of dishes and pans, the way you marched securely to his desk to pick up that filthy mug and you frowned just sniffing at it.

“Is that poison?”

“Rat poison” he corrected you.

You shook your head as you cleaned a glass and filled it with water and among the groceries you pulled out a banana.

“Have this now, it will help” you said and he took the glass with one hand and the banana with the other like his brain was shut down.

He stared at you as you leaned your head slightly on side, he went through bad times after the break up but you had never seen him in such a helpless state.

He was chaotic but he always loved to keep up his appearance, to give that handsome and damned kind of vibe.

“Sebastian” you called him as his eyes spaced out and now where back on you “Are you alright?”

He observed you, he stared at your face like he was trying to recognise you, truth it was he kept pushing himself to say yes, say yes, say it is all good, make a joke, a remark, keep it up. You don’t need his burden, you don’t need to hate him like Elke and others do.

Just say yes.

“No” he said as his lips trembled and you watched his ironic mask fall right in front of you as he looked away hiding his tears, real tears, not the ones he can play out whenever he needs.

Just as quickly as you gave him the banana and the water you took them off his hands afraid he might hurt himself by dropping the glass in particular.

"Seb" you called his attention as he sobbed moving like a bird trying to hide his face against his own shoulder.

You took his now empty hands dragging him toward the couch and kicking off the pile of dirty clothes and discarded books on top of it to make him sit down with you.

"Talk to me"

He didn't, the man that was never out of words, even in the times he should have been, was now silent as a tombstone staring away from you as you gave a gentle squeeze to his hands. It pained you to see him in such a state.

So weak, so helpless like a lost child.

"I can't help you if you don't talk"

Sebastian shook his head still staring at the wall.

"You can't help me"

"Is it about writing? I can proof read you, it will be a moment"

He shook his head again making, hair bouncing from side to side.

"No, it is not important if I write or not"

You frowned at that comment.

"What the hell?" you just blurted out "Seb you're a talented writer, you're passionate, funny, witty, why shouldn't it be important?"

He looked up at you shaking his head "I can't write, I can't put together two sentences"

Your eyes travelled onto his side profile, truth to be told he looked worn out but he was still handsome like only Sebastian Zöllner could be. He had that chaotic charm, even with a wrinkled suit he was fearless, strong, poignant. You couldn't avoid him, he owned every place he stepped in and you could feel his gaze run through your bloodstream.

When he asks a question, he meant it, it was a test run into your bones and you loved every second of it.

His lips tightened as he diverted his gaze finally to you. You knew his relationship with Elke was important, he cared about others even if he didn't show it daily like most people do.

"Is it Elke?"

"No, she was just right"

"About what?"

He gulped, his throat dry as he pulled his bottom lip in his mouth grinding his teeth over it like playing something through that gesture.

"About me"

"Breakups are always shit, don't you even.."

"No Y/N" he interrupted you, he was serious, maybe his voice trembled but he wasn't lying or playing some role "I am really a lost cause, I mean look at his place"

His hand waved around the small flat like a drunk orchestra director.

"It is pure trash, I haven't finished unpacking, I didn't have food until you came, I am unable to look after myself, to look after the people that I care about. I worked so hard to be an artist and then I became a critic and now I am so knee deep into my own shit that I have more debts than entries, more failures than successes, more haters than friends"

He gulped down, the waterline of his eyes dangerously red and he sniffled up as he let out a little weak whisper "I just wish I could disappear"

"No"

It came out of you like a lighting bolt, it surged out of you before you could even elaborate. Like an order. A command.

"Seb, you're now in a rough patch of life, but you have always worked hard and well as a writer"

"I am a writer because I failed as an artist"

"You're a writer because you know of what you're talking about, because you're able to see the difference between marketing and passion, between hard work and laziness, because you respect that profession and it makes you the best critic"

"I just want to destroy them all because I am envious, Elke always said I am fuelled by my own envy”

"I have read pieces of yours only encouraging the rightful and bringing down the real frauds"

He shook his head as he was just fixating on the wrong, on the flaws, on the problems.

You huffed cupping his cheeks to force him to look at your eyes.

"Look at me" you said not admitting replies "you are talented in what you do, you are one of the best in your field and you're not on some big magazine only because they know they will have to put up with your shit: with the fact you always meet the people, you look at art pieces in presence, you touch them, you research the colours, you scrutinise everything to the bone"

He took your hands hating to be held like that but he squeezed them in his owns.

"And yes, you're allergic to ironing clothes and washing dishes is your personal nightmare, and yes, you give out many temper tantrums and have a terribly dark sense of humour, you are a failure at time and money management, you love filthy rich stuff and smoke like your life depends on it"

He stared at you, he listened quietly as you knew him from so long and many people, Elke included, wondered what you gained from helping him or just being around him that much. He often teased his ex about being jealous of you and she always said that it was like being jealous of a mortgage.

"So you agree?"

"I agree to say you are flawed like all of us, that you are just the perfect balance to your writing, you're what you write. You're passionate, you give out the two hundred percent of what you can give, you are like this, you go all-in in everything you do, there's no compromise, no mid way, no foreseeable change of direction, you speed up into the darkness and don't look back. You are bold, you take risks, you let people hate you because you do not compromise with who is son of who or who is the director of what gallery, you judge people over their real qualities. Because you talk to them in their face, because you don't hide that yes, you want to be great, because you're handsome and charming and smart, nobody can outsmart you in your field, not even that idiot you hate that much"

"Golo Fucking Moser" he murmured

"Golo Fucking Moser" you repeated with a chuckle "you don't have anything to envy to him beside the bruises he probably has on his knees for bending down to anyone"

He chuckled at that comment.

"And also, you're more attractive, that pisses off Seb, it is unfair to the poor man”

He leaned his head on side as you wouldn't normally shower him in compliments, he had enough ego for that, but you had never seen him like this and you wished to never see him again in such a state.

"You find me attractive?"

"Well for sure you're an eye candy" you joked

"I mean it"

You rolled your eyes blushing a bit and huffing a chuckle "I do, alight? It is universal knowledge"

He looked at you as he still held your hands in his, his thumbs making soft shapes over the back of your hand.

"That I am attractive or that you find me attractive?"

You groaned looking away with an embarrassed giggle “okay, okay, I see you're back in yourself, let's eat now"

You moved to stand up but he didn't do the same remaining sat in his spot.

"Tell me"

"I pumped your self esteem enough, now let me go"

He chuckled softly, he never really thought you'd be interested. He usually shows off so many bad traits that he has to tone himself down and really try hard to attract someone. It is all an effort on his part to appear better or at least less quirky.

And then now look at you, appreciating even his shit show.

"Y/N" he murmured giving you a soft squeeze. You kept silent not daring now to meet his gaze. He bowed his head trying to reach for your eyes with his gaze and he looked up at you, a smile that wasn't provocative over his lips.

You pulled back yanking your wrists off his grip to move straight into the kitchen corner.

You begun pulling ut some fresh vegetables and bread, you also got some cheese knowing he loves it, wanting him to have a good dinner.

He followed you almost immediately and soon you found his arms grasping you once more in a hug, his chest pressed against your back, his forehead on your shoulder.

"Seb, you..."

"I know, I stink, just give me a moment" he said and you obliged him gently caressing his arms around you.

You hated to be in the friend zone, but you wouldn't be able to survive to lose him forever or to have him joke about it.

Now he was quiet, tender like a hurt pup.

"Thank you, you know you can count on me too, right? For anything” he said and you chuckled softly “I know, you’re my favourite avenger”

He nodded brushing his crisp beard against your cheek and after few minutes stuck in that hug he dropped a kiss on your neck "love you”

He pulled back giving you a smile as he picked the shower gel you left on the counter bringing it with himself to the bathroom with a soft hum.

You smiled a bit bitterly to yourself as you guessed it was meant in a friendly way, but today it was alright. You could endure it. Also that kiss, he always did it when he was drunk, at parties or in the taxi back home after a viewing. It was his cuddly way to say things without saying them, without rambling, and you appreciated that silent language.

Maybe now he was drunk over his own feelings.

Just like you.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @archangelproperty

#sebastian zöllner #sebastian zöllner x y/n #sebastian zollner x y/n #sebastian zollner x reader #sebastian zöllner x you #sebastian zöllner x reader #sebastian zöllner headcanon #sebastian zollner #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #daniel bruehl #ich und kaminski #ich und Kaminski fanfiction #tw: depression #tw: self deprecation

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sassyfreakshepherdgiant · 3 years

Text

Notice Me - Chapter 3 (Jack Kline x Reader!Winchester)

A/N - This chapter was prompted by the song by Nine Inch Nails called “Something I can never have”, which I think I’ll build on later. Thoughts? Also here is Chapter 2 which is recommended before reading this! PS - Jack Kline is so poorly underwritten on here its SAD.

Summary - While the cats away, the mice will play. Jack decides to explore his feelings for Y/N but how will it go?

Warnings : THIS IS A SLOW BURN STORY! Light SMUT, Jack Kline OC, angst? Generally bad writing? IDK! This WILL take a dark turn I think!

"I need to leave town. A good friend of mine passed away, I need to attend his funeral." Dean said. "I'm sorry Dad, I will take care of everything here" Y/N said without hesitation. Dean looked between you and Jack, as if he sensed a change. "Alright, just no funny business ok? Sammy will be here too.” Dean said. "So no jokes?" Jack said eyebrows furring together. "Hahahaha isn't he great dad? No need to worry!" you exclaimed throwing your hands up. "Yeah, sure, just be safe." And with that Dean took off for a week.

__________________________________________

Frustration had been eating at you, why did you feel guilty for your progression with Jack? He knew what he was doing and so did you. Hell your dad made out with THE darkness for Chuck sakes, what did you have to feel bad for? You ran into the gym to blow off some steam.

"You are hitting with the wrong side" Jack said pointedly as you hit the bag. You groan in frustration. "Let me help" Jack grabs your arm from behind, standing close to you. Jack leans in, whispering in your ear, "Start with your right and swing upwards". A sharp shiver shoots down your body as you do what's asked of you. "That's a good girl" Jack says and your breath hitches in your throat. Jack was innocent, of this you were certain, but the more you began to learn of the Nephilim, the more you began to realize otherwise. Jack had grown up fast, and learned even faster.

"Lets hit the mat" Jack said, walking over to the tumbling area. "First, start off by swinging with your arm pushing upward rather than forward" Jack stated as you swung. Next thing you knew you were on the ground looking up at the beautiful angel who had become your best friend. "Not so bad for a full human" Jack said jokingly.

I tossed off my gloves and decided to push my luck, finding the angels ticklish spot, which happened to be his sides. My fingers grazed his side but before I could even get my second giggle out Jack had me pinned on the mat with my hands above my head.

"Jack?" Y/N questioned worriedly, Jacks eyes were glowing as he bent down to meet your mouth to his. If you wanted to put up a fight there was no way you could, Jack's body hummed around yours, as if his grace reverberate within you.

Jack lifted his mouth from yours, enough time for you to collect air before he traveled down to your throat. It was no secret, you had not experienced this before. Being a seventeen year old with your dad left little room for these kinds of things, but my Chuck, how magical they were.

Jack's tongue dipped out to taste the sweat on your neck, a guttural moan left your throat and was met by a low, animalistic growl from Jack. Your heart rate began to pick up pace," was this your moment?" you thought to yourself.

Before either of you could continue what was happening, a loud thud rumbled through the bunker. "Y/N?! Jack?! I’m back!" Your uncle Sam echoed through the halls, next thing you knew you were on the floor by yourself, Jack gone. "What the hell?" you thought before Sam entered the gym. "Do you want any food?" Sam asked, "Uh sure" you said, trying your best to act as if you were not just in heaven with the best angel you ever met.

__________________________________________

Later that night you sit in your room, the earlier events of the day ringing in your mind. You were naïve, innocent to sex, but since Jack had come into your lives all of that had changed. You wanted Jack, craved him, and he was a constant in your mind.

You decided to take a cold shower to get Jack off of your mind and to release some pressure. You hadn't touched yourself much since reaching puberty but Jack had awakened something new in you, something that couldn't be sated.

You started touching yourself, the hot pulsing water burning your skin and relaxing you all at the same time. Suddenly you were hit by a wave of pleasure, it was more than that though, it was humming again in your body. The vibration hit your core, pushing, teasing, and tempting you to cum over and over again. You never knew anything like this and your body screamed that recognition.

Without hesitation your mind flashed with images, images of Jack and you. These weren't just any images though, these images were explicit in detail. Jack looming over you, eyes glowing, Jack commanding you to beg him to please you. Jack between your legs, eyes once again glowing. Jack laying on top of you, panting, expressing his love for you.

That was all you needed before your eyes shut and you exploded, yelling Jacks name. Fireworks flashed behind your eyelids as you lay your head against the shower wall. You pant, clean yourself off, and pray no one had heard you. "What had gotten into you?" You thought to yourself. It was the best feeling you had ever had but something didn't sit right with you.

You quickly climbed into your comfy pajamas before you set off to find Jack, someone needed to make dinner and it was your Friday movie night together. You rounded the corner out of your room before you came head to head with Jack himself. This Jack was different though, he looked darker, more disturbed. His stance was strong and his eyes grew bright, worrying you.

"Did you enjoy your shower Y/N?" Jack said.

#smut #jack kline smut #jack kline #jack kline x y/n #jack kline x reader #jack kline x you #jack kline x winchester!reader #spn #spnfamily #spnfandom #spn fanfic series #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel

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