Uhhh so I’ve had this thought bumping around my brains for a while but it doesn’t fit any of my characters so I give it to the wider community instead

Whumper who ties, chains, or holds whumpees hands into a position so they can slip into the space in between

(Works well with creepy/intimate, delusional, even parental whumpees)

Some helpful diagrams

Feel free to trace, use as base, reference, etc.

I am going to be honest I can get pretty needy for my princess in various ways and forms some of them just happened to be more aggressive and violent forms of affection and love for me. When it comes to my sweet little puppy there are times I woke up horny and disorientated and lonely craving attention and violence at the same time my Primal Savage monster wanting to break out. Wanting to wrap my arms around her waist holding them close as I say how much I love then my nails digging into other side stained with blood as I bite down on their neck hard. Hard enough to make them bleed make their bodies form and make it impossible for them not to scream and in pain. I want to tighten my grip on that squirming Body letting one hand run up in between their chests up to their neck and squeezing my cock hard up against their ass. I want to tell her how beautiful she is and how much I care as I keep her from breathing and continue rubing my cock against her ass. I want to keep her from air just long enough so that she starts to feel dizzy before I letting her brave and try to catch her breath as I push my cock deep into her asshole. Grabbing both of breath squeezing highly before pulling her nipples.  Twisting and playing with them as I violate her ass hard each scream and every moment of her squirming only encouraging me to do worse. Continuously marking parts of her body biting down her neck and bruising her bottom as a spanking play my fingers upper inner thigh and playing with her clit. Pulling my cock out of her ass only to manhandle her onto her back and beat her breast, my cock resting on top of her pussy the tip of it pushing up against her clit. I want to see fear and desire in her eyes. I want to see you that Terror being afraid of what I could do not and that craving for more swirling up and confusion fear and ecstasy. I want my pery to fight back so I can beat her back down, take her by force and make her completely mine no matter how hard she fights. I want to fuck her up so bad that every part of your body hurts and that she is completely marked by me from head to toe like she was abused. Want to violate her all over and over again and brutalized every part of her. I want to break her so bad inside and out. I can pound into her throw up against the wall in the fuck her anzd tell her body gives out and black out and continue using her as my own personal toy. I need her to at least take 8 hours of my pure animalistic Primal Savage urges non-stop forcing her back awake every time she blacks out. Still going even when her body stops listening to her and her mind can't focus on anything else other than mean. I want to fuck her for so long and hard that she can't remember her own name. That the only thing she can remember is the feeling that her body is going through Pleasure and Pain. That only thing she cares about is me. I want to completely break my toy and make her mine forever with that just being how we get started

And after I completely break her brutalizer abused her violate her over and over until every part of her has been cracked until her body has been exhausted until her spirit and soul have been corrupted, twisted, violated, tainted, branded, marked, thrown into insanity and Madness and chained. I will guess her gently with every ounce of affection and love that I have an existence. I will kiss her again and again holding her ever so gently cuddling up against her and nestling her. I will hold her hand As We Lay there looking at each other. Kiss every bruise and Mark on her body and tell her I love her. That feeling of loving up on her after completely tearing into her and still being able to get that love back. Still being able to feel her affection and her care is a extraordinarily wonderful feeling. I want to run my hands through her hair caress her cheeks Tres hearts on her body. I want to feel her breath on my chest as he lays down on it can I want to hear everything can I want to hear everything that goes through her mind. I want to feel her warmth on my body as we just talk oh, I don't know then we'll talk just really feels good after being sadistic, horrendous, and Insidious. I want to hear her say she loves me and that she always will and I want to say it back. I want to make a goofy smile as I tell her something silly and dumb hear her laugh then give her an eskimo kiss. I want to run my hands up and down her body softly and make love to her ever so slowly drawing it out pass sunrise. I want to feel her in my soul and have her feel me in hers. I want to be violent, aggressive, and cruel against her body and mind, breaking her repeatedly, wrapping her in insanty. I want to love up on her with every fiber of my being pouring my affection into her, drowning her in it. I want to be a monster just for her and have her be that one special victim that I love more than anything and with everything that I have no matter how sick or twisted that love can be always mixed with a Insidious vile excessive sweetness and intense obsessive affection

I have this fantasy that one of my best friends’ boyfriend has a thing for me. He loves the idea of his girlfriend and I being together. He subtly flirts with me and seduces me. Convinces his girlfriend, one of my best friends, to flirt with me too. Get closer to me. I don’t think much of it. we’re all friends, after all.

Then one day it’s just the three of us. only my friend and I smoke, her boyfriend doesn’t. we get absolutely high out of our minds. meanwhile he’s encouraging us to smoke more. to keep taking hit after hit. he makes it into a game. I like games.

he gets a little handsy with his girlfriend. it’s fine, they’re dating. It happens. but of course I say something. I have to. he makes a joke about me being jealous. or left out. I don’t admit to anything, of course. but he suggested that her and I get a little touchy feely.

she’s so high she doesn’t see the problem with it. and I’m just happy to be included. and of course the weed just makes everything feel so much better. she rubs my body, my chest, my back, slowly making her way between my legs. without thinking, I kiss her. her boyfriend tells her to kiss me back. she does. our make out is sloppy and messy.

he watches for a moment before joining in, giving us encouraging words to continue. telling us how good we’re doing. how happy we’re making him feel.

it ends up with the most sloppy threesome possible and the next morning, I barely remember anything. I feel a little funny down there but I can’t recall anything that happened. I try asking them, but she doesn’t remember anything and he said all we did was watch movies. I believed him. I never remember things when I’m high. but then again, he knew that, didn’t he?

I wish my first experience with a woman was forced. She would be flirting with my boyfriend in front of me, seducing him. They would be naked, touching, almost intimate despite being complete strangers. Eventually he'd ask if I was feeling left out, seemingly nice and caring. I'd nod of course, as it would be a bit much to see him make out with another woman for real. But he doesn't want me to participate, not really.

"Strip for us, kiss her", he'd say. And I'd shake my head, blushing. I couldn't. She's so alluring and I don't feel sexy next to her. How could I do a strip tease like that? How could I kiss a woman like her? She would smile, laugh, comment about me being too shy and turn back to my boyfriend, kissing him passionately, ignoring me.

So I would hastily take off my clothes, desperate for attention. But they wouldn't notice, so entranced by each other. I kneel down next to her as she sucks his cock. He's moaning. He never moans when I suck him off. She gives me a smile. It's not reassuring, it's... Mocking. I don't wanna do this, this is too much. But before I can say anything, she kisses me, her tongue playing with mine. She pushes me to the ground, her perfect large boobs touching my small tits. She rubs herself against my leg. She's wet, because my boyfriend has been playing with her pussy. My cunt is still untouched and she's not bothering to touch it. She's moaning softly, clearly enjoying herself. "Oh, lick my pussy. I'm so wet. I bet your boyfriend would love to see how you eat me out."

He's stroking himself, watching us intently. I shake my head a little, but she doesn't seem to notice. "You wanna taste me, don't you?" She roughly shoves two fingers into my cunt. I expect it to hurt, but they slide in easily. "Yes, you do!" She laughs, kissing my neck and then getting on top of me. Her pussy is in my face and I try to get away, but she's bucking her hips, so my movement only causes me to get her wet juices all over my face. She moans. "Eat me out". I look over to my boyfriend for help, but he's busy staring at her boobs.

So I reluctantly lick her pussy. "Make me cum, I want to cum before I fuck your boyfriend." She rides my face, I can't get away. I have no control over what's happening. After a couple of minutes she cums, her cute pussy is pulsating. I'm turned on by the sight and eagerly lick up her juices, hoping that it's now my turn. But she isn't satisfied yet. "Lick my asshole"

I want to say no, but quickly she shoves her ass into my face. "Your boyfriend said, you're a very good ass licker and I wanna cum again. You're such a good slut. I'm gonna enjoy having you eat me out regularly." She grins and rubs her ass on my face. I don't want to do it. But my pussy is wet, so I start playing with my clit and eat out her ass like it's my favourite thing to do.

I love having smoke blown into my face ♡ Yes please be mean to me & blow your cigarette/weed/vape at me while I'm in the middle of talking ♡ Grab my hair and hold my head still when I try to pull away ♡ Bully me ♡

Yandere Heavy is an untapped well of infinite content! Can you do something with an S/O who's really sweet and gentle but doesn't like seeing Heavy be, well, so violent and brutal all the time? Like a pacifist! How would Yandere Heavy act around them? Would really love to see it!

Character: Heavy 🐻 (Team Fortress 2)

Rating: M (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT GO PLAY OUTSIDE)

Content Warnings: HEAVY forced domesticity, infantilization, yandere, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, fear tactics, gender neutral reader,

Word Count: 1.5k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

There's a decent chance Heavy would struggle to understand the concept of pacifism. War and fighting are such a massive part of his lifestyle; imagining someone opposing this, embracing a path of complete nonviolence, this way of life baffles him.

Furthermore, Heavy might fear your opposition to war extends to himself as well and fears you think less of him for his violent ways and how he was practically born to fight. Heavy might feel a bit embarrassed about getting loud and physically rough whenever he gets excited and couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious around you because of it.

Unlike some of the more sadistic yanderes (like literally anyone on the support team), Heavy takes a little pride in seeing you scared, much less afraid of himself. While he's never been great at noticing or understanding the feelings of others, the look on your face when you see him returning home after a particularly nasty battle says it all.

Consider the relationship starting with Heavy developing feelings for a new team member, specifically another defense class member. Assuming the feelings are mutual, you couldn't help but feel a little horrified learning his primary role in the team is to soak up as much damage from the other side as possible to protect the rest. If anyone were built for such a task, it would be him, but it hardly makes watching him fight any easier to bear.

Assuming you were an honest-to-God pacifist, your position on the team wouldn't last long. (And momentarily ignoring how on earth a pacifist managed to find himself contracted into mercenary work.) After a day of senseless death and fighting over virtually nothing, seeing people you care about being brought to the brink of death only to be thrown right into battle was a living nightmare. You simply weren't cut out for mercenary work, and you were gone the day your contract was over.

A part of you wanted to stick around longer with Heavy, maybe even beg him to consider heading out with you, but what was the point? Even if you loved him, there was no way you could change his mind about abandoning the fight, especially not while he's got a family back home to provide for.

Saying goodbye would hurt too much. Instead, you left without a word.

Heavy was devastated the day he found out you were gone and refused to accept the idea that you were lost for good.

Realistically, his first course of action would be contacting Administrator or Ms. Pauling to try and obtain your contact information, and considering you're no longer under contract, either woman would turn the documents over to him without a second thought.

And by God, if you thought you felt guilty for walking out without telling Heavy anything before, you were downright mortified to see the look of concern and hurt on his face when he managed to find you.

Despite high emotions as well as your own shame for being caught trying to run away like this, Heavy would force you to sit and tell him why you left so suddenly without saying anything to him and being his blunt self, would want to know right away if you ran away because of something he did.

While Heavy wanted to make sure you were safe first, but when you confessed how it pained you to see him getting brutalized every day as the human meat shield, he failed to understand what you meant by this. Heavy was praised all his life for being the strong man who could soak up as much damage as he needed to in the name of protecting others. Heavy never considered why someone wouldn't want him to do what he does best.

An unhappy reunion turns into a sweet unofficial date, Heavy offering to help you unpack and settle down before he decides to move in with you full-time. (While he knows this is the right thing to do, a part of him hates granting you this, fearing you'd realize you preferred life alone than with him and go back on your request for him to move in with you.) 

Likes to pop in uninvited when you're alone for a little one-on-one time. It really gets Heavy going when he comes after a battle, thinking about the look of worry on your face when you greet him. Even though he's been patched up, the bandages frighten you, and you do your best to ensure everything is in place correctly and if there is more you could do for his injuries. If you were a pacifist before you joined the mercenary group, your time away from all the conflict has made you even softer.

Heavy is about to call you a baby as a joke when he realizes that's exactly what happened to you when you left the team.

You were making it so easy for him to infantilize you for wimping out of the war, then moving out to the shoddiest little room you could afford to look for extra money until you could really get back on your own two feet again made you look so desperate and needy. Even if you weren't begging Heavy to help provide for you and keep you company, it's what you desperately needed. Confessing your affection for him when he found you; it made perfect sense in his head.

When he eventually does move in, he starts acting differently right off the bat. He insists you let him cover finances and rent so you can focus on finding a better place to work. You want to disagree. Sure, his job pays well, but it's wrong to leech off him like that, even if you were in a relationship. However, you don't say no for too long despite good intentions. Heavy's offer is too good to refuse, and he knows it. 

If the guilt of accepting such support from Heavy wasn't bad enough, things would worsen when Heavy would insist on taking baths with you, reading to you before bed, and cooking for both of you on top of working. You hated feeling so impotent and passive in your own life, but when he was already doing so much for you, wouldn't you deny his request to care for you however he wanted?

Little by little, life with Heavy changed in ways you couldn't understand and despised. Heavy felt distant like the two of you weren't talking like you used to. He withdrew in the bedroom, and things never progressed past kissing or cuddling. You were frustrated and felt like Heavy's overly gentle and smothering behavior made you feel like his child, not his partner.

You officially snapped when Heavy proposed a new rule: you weren't allowed to leave the house while he was gone. Claiming this was for your safety, he didn't like the idea of something happening to you, and he wouldn't find you. Breaking down into tears, begging him to stop babying you, and you were a grown adult, and this wasn't healthy for either of you. To your horror, despite all but begging on your knees for him to do the right thing and end the relationship, he smiled. As though grimly satisfied you finally realized precisely what was going on here and asked if you needed to rest since you were getting so fussy. And from that moment on, you knew your fate was sealed.

Any fleeting thoughts of trying to escape were crushed when you were not so subtly reminded. Heavy kept a copy of your personal file and private information he obtained from the Administrator, and if you were to try to escape, he would know exactly where to go looking for you. And at best, find you quickly and take you back home, and at worst, take out his wrath on whatever poor family member or friend happened to answer the door.

The only person he would trust with information about harboring you like a hostage is Medic. Primarily because if something were to happen to you, Medic is the only person he would trust to take care of you. Medic might get involved physically a few times but is more curious to observe than anything else.

Despite a great deal of indecision and inner turmoil over struggling between wanting to make you happier and proving he's not some violent monster and knowing this is how he has always been, odds are he'll choose to stay true to what he believes to be his genuine nature. To embrace living as he was meant to. Even if he's not entirely happy with us, it's just how it's meant to be.

Heavy is a mother bear to his core and protecting smaller, less able people is what he has to do. There's nothing you or even he can do about it at the end of the day.

God, I want her to get me drunk/stoned and then tease me until I'm wet. I get so loudmouthed when I'm not sober, I want her to shut me up. Take full advantage of me, say if I shouldn't have gotten so drunk if I wasn't asking for it, if I wasn't begging for it.

I want to be completely under her control, my opinions, my wants, my needs, they don't matter; all that matters is how good I can make her feel. I want her to cum in me and then keep going; keep going until my mind finally processes what happens. Pin me back down as I attempted to push back, force her dick back inside me, use my me as nothing more than a living fleshlight.

the specific brand of yandere whumper that is actually delusional, and convinced that whumpee is just as in love with them as they are with them. or that they will fall in love eventually, because their romantic gestures are simply too sweet to be ignored. it's not an act or anything. they whole heartedly believe it, and see nothing wrong with their own actions, since they're clearly all governed by unconditional love.

whumpee bounces between lashing out and trying to make whumper see that they're out of their mind, and playing along to placate them because actually maybe they don't want to see how whumper would react to their fantasy world falling apart around them

Cnc petplay where a dom has a catboy but plays at expecting them to be like a puppy. Playing rough, pushing to spend time together and tying him up if he tries to get away, keeping him leashed, muzzled and harnessed.

Maybe they know that catboys have different behavioral preferences, but tells him again and again how selfish he is for trying to hide on his own. Or maybe they really don’t comprehend it, and says the punishments are for his own good; if he were a good puppy after all, there wouldn’t need to be any more training would there?

Of course, there’s also the expectation of “loyalty”; of themselves as obviously more important than me, more important than I could ever be, and if I don’t confirm that by following orders… well. There’s always time for more obedience training, in whatever way they think is appropriate.

So when it comes to Obsession there is submissive Obsession and domination obsession. Submissive obsession is that you will do anything to have that person's attention, thoughts, affection, and love focused on you they are your everything and you need them to breathe. Dominative obsession is similar in that they are all that you think about and crave except that you will forcibly drown them in your affection, attention, thoughts, and love doing anything and everything to obtain them even by force. Of course there are also variations of these.

I'm a sadistic dominative obsession type to a unhealthy almost inhumane degree which makes me pretty sick in the head. There aren't really many lines I won't cross when it comes to obsession and emotional addiction such as force, brainwashing, manipulation, mind-breaking, cohortion, Stockholm syndrome, and so on which are all pretty romanticized in my head and are enjoyable to me.

I am aware of the toxicity of all of them which feels like a contradiction. I am also really transparent and open about it too which feels like a paradox. All of it is deranged psychotic insanity. I am the type of person who wants to do vile, horrendous, and disturbing without self-restraints, hesitation, shame, or holding back as an expression of love ( romantic love only.) However I do also express love and affection normally as well such as concern, consideration, communication, kisses, cuddles, hand holding and other form of romantic intimate actions though I am definitely more intense and overwhelming at the levels I can express them.

Yeah I am definitely not for everyone and terrifying to most people seen as some Twisted fucked up sicko. Still I am okay with being this fucked in the head twisted mentally Disturbed and individual. I enjoy the intensity, I find pleasure in the fear of my obsession, and I embrace The Sensational hunger for someone I will never get enough of. Still I am very much self aware of what I am And what the world thinks oof me so I have the requirement that someone is perfectly willing to be broken by my deep unrelenting deranged intensity, affection and let me take everything that they are even if I'm forceful about it

I'm unbelievably horny for someone to hold a knife to my throat while i jerk them off ~♡

Really need a woman to encourage my wife to drink more and more and more until she's passed out drunk. Bonus points if you also are getting drunk and get her sexually interested in you at all. The ultimate goal is to encourage my wife to take 100 (or more if she can handle it) jello shots of various strengths, liquors and flavors. Once she passes out, it's fair game for me to fuck her holes and cum wherever I want. Triple bonus points if you stay for the fucking and help out

Please,, I need fluffy headcanons for yandere caretaker Medic <3

this is not as fluffy as you might've hopped... im sorry- but ddjjcffghi i tried anon, i tried

Character: Medic 🕊 (Team Fortress 2)

Rating: M (MINORS DNI)

Content Warnings: yandere, toxic (lol) relationship, imprisonment/kidnapping, drugging, forced intimacy, abuse of power, light medfet

Word Count: 1.5k

MASTER LIST

TIP JAR

(Song Inspo)

In this scenario, whatever it was that left you entirely in Medic's care was some freak accident, a sort of unforeseen accident which left you with no choice but to take refuge under Medic's complete supervision. While you were far from excited to be under the full custody of one so unpredictable, there was simply no other option.

As a result, your status as a mercenary was majorly in jeopardy. After all, how could you expect to be paid to fight when you were too weak to enter the battlefield. You were no longer receiving the necessary funds you once did to support yourself, though Medic assured you that while in such a gracious state, you must only concern yourself with matters of recovery and rest. You were honestly touched as he assured you he would help to support you financially (as in, send money back home, keep you fed and warm, etc.) All debts would be settled once you made a full recovery.

Any initial hesitance of yours to this "new normal" was easily handwaved away by Medic as nothing more than a call to action. You were sick and in need. You were where you needed to be. Therefore, any apprehension on the matter must mean he wasn't doing enough as a caretaker. Therefore, believing with his entire heart, you must need him now more than ever! (He might initially hold onto the idea that if he were to bring you back to total health, you would be so smitten and grateful to him that you would love him back of your own volition, but he is unlikely to deliver on this promise.)

As much as Medic adores the manic energy he derives from indulging in his morally questionable human experiments, yandere Medic has a more hopeless romantic side to him; and has a soft spot for doting on you, and loves the think of these little moments shared with you to be mutual, and you would do precisely the same for him if the situation were reversed.

Though he loves you more than anything, by God, does he love the sight of you so weak and helpless and gets off on the idea of you growing more and more dependent on him until you're practically feeding from the palm of his hand. And he's certainly not above slipping you poisons or sedatives to bend you to his will.

He's always lowkey known he wanted to be your primary caretaker, the one person you love and trust more than anyone else, someone to share that once-in-a-lifetime "I trust you with my life" kind of relationship. Once he gets a taste of caring for you like this, he'll instantly crave more. Now that you can't support yourself, Medic no longer has to worry about you trying to run away or even trying to ignore him now that he's your only source of food and water or any kind of physical well-being.

"If you need care, I'll be here- If you need space, I'll grant this as well." (He won't.)

Furthermore, inhibiting you and forcing you to remain in such a weakened state might ignite his infamously ceaseless curiosity to learn as much about human pain as possible. The resilience, the tolerance, the acquiescence, he wants to know everything. He would slowly increase your dosages of various venoms or poisons to watch with wrapt interest every adorable and sickened reaction you can offer! Medic would happily drive you to the brink of death to drag you back just enough for you to recover what little strength you have left, only to do it all over again. All in the name of love and research.

Despite how miserable his sleep schedule might be, he adores the habit/ritual of tucking you into bed at night and laying you down to rest. While his intentions for treating you are more than a little dubious, this is easily one of his more wholesome displays of affection.

His sleep schedule is so sparse, partially because he genuinely doesn't require much, but as a man with dozens of little pets, he diligently attends to them as though they were his own children. Like any good father, he's always ready to sacrifice his own sleep in the name of attending to his little ones.

Mentioned in lore, he's not only a mad scientist in his own right but also comes from a long line of like-minded folk and would only deem his family worthy of visiting you to keep you company. And what a great way to meet everyone while you're too weary and exhausted to get away!

As his most valued research "partner," he would try to keep you comfortable (relatively speaking) while he's away and will remain perfectly attentive and diligent to your car while physically in your presence.

Any fear, aggravation, or hostility you might display towards Medic would be brushed off, all with a smile and a handwave. It wasn't that you were mad at him or didn't want to be doted on like this. Undoubtedly you were merely experiencing some growing pains, just a bit of discomfort, before you happily found yourself comfortable as his newest pet. If he needed to increase your sedatives to make the transition smoother for you, then he would do what he must.

Any hope of escaping would be futile.

Not only on account of your weakened state, but Medc would take every precaution to fortify your enclosure to guarantee you'll never get out, and no one but him would get in.

As strict as he may be, you'd need to push Medic rather far to persuade him to take away full bodily autonomy. There is little he loves more than how you reach out for him when he returns to your side with food and water after being gone all day. Seeing how your eyes light up not only in finally receiving sustenance after so long but in having someone to socialize with after spending so much time alone in miserable isolation. It's adorable how you're the one to initiate cuddles or kisses, given how emotionally vulnerable you're feeling nowadays. Medic wouldn't dare jeopardize this.

Medic has had more than a few dirty fantasies of coming to you late in the night, perhaps to bring you a soothing cup of tea, or some new reading material, something small and sweet to surprise you, only to walk in on you desperately trying to alleviate your libido. Thinking of you, his poor, beloved little pet, so shaped by his care and influence, you just don't know your body like you used to. And now you're forced to call upon him to finish the job.

"Don't be so shy, my love. I'm only here to help!" (He is not.)

And while he may use your weakened bodily autonomy to his advantage every now and then, slipping hands below your hospital robe to brush his hands against your bare skin, pressing his lips against the naked flesh of your neck to find that pesky weak little pulse of yours. Caressing every inch of soft skin he can get his hands on, he wouldn't dare rob you of your innocence altogether and wouldn't want to take anything too far unless you were to ask, in which case, your word is his command!

He can't help but find a fascinating allure in how your body looks, wearing nothing but a hospital gown with almost nothing underneath, bed bound, surrounded by his machines at all times, gently beeping and whirring. At times like this, he understands his desire to nurture you is less a matter of keeping you away from harm but rather to keep you so preciously weak and needy.

Once he realizes this about himself, he'll be sure to gaslight and manipulate you into being a well-behaved patient, always on your best behavior around him, as only then would he reward you with care or bother to try and take away your pain. Medic would only bring you water and food if you were to say please first, always followed by a polite "thank you" as well. He'll do whatever he needs to keep you docile and submissive.

Loves to converse with you and listen to you talk about everything you plan to do once you're finally well enough to leave the Medical Ward. Medic is a master at knowing how to keep your spirits up just enough to keep from giving into despair, all without divulging to you how he knows none of these plans will ever come to fruition.

"We're going so much closer now, you and I, wouldn't you say? Hard to imagine life before all this, don't tell me you want to return to such a time?" (Like you have a choice.)

No way would he allow you to return to your old life now. He was your life now- bound forever to his side. So at what point did it all come to this? Were you a coward for not fighting back while you still could? How long ago was that, anyway? Were there still people looking for you- indeed, Medic wasn't above suspicion, but even then, so what? It's not like the team could excommunicate such a vital asset anyway.

Nothing hurt more than to question how long it had been since this twisted captivity began. Trying to remember life before all this felt so confusing and foreign. Above the misery, what sickened you was how easily you'd been groomed to understand nothing but obedience.

Don't Ask- Chapter 10 of Demons of Change

Will follows as fast as he can, still a little overwhelmed by being in Mike Wheeler’s house. “Is your mom okay?” he blurts out as his gaze catches on the family photos on the wall.  Mike chuckles to himself as he leads Will to his room. It’s brighter with a big window and blue walls and smells like him. It’s distracting.  “Yeah,” Mike says and Will looks up at him. “She’s fine.” He rolls his eyes and there’s something bitter about the way his mouth settles. “She’s a drunk," he says like he's talking about the weather and scratches the back of his neck. “Not mean or anything—but she cries a lot... and sleeps a lot. And worries about me a lot.”  Mike’s eyes flash to his and Will looks away. He doesn’t know what to say so he turns his attention back to the room. The sheets are rumpled on the queen bed and there’s a desk over by the window with piles and piles of papers and books and notebooks on it. Clothes and shoes are strewn all over, hanging over chairs and in corners. Posters adorn the walls- movies and bands and an artist he recognizes.  “Escher,” Will remarks quietly.  Mike drops his arms from where he had them crossed across his chest and hums. “Yeah,” he says. “He’s cool.”  Will hums back and nods. “Yeah.”  Mike looks at him again, and it's so direct and open that Will feels as if he’s going to burst into flames. This is too much. He was stupid to think that he could do this. They should have met somewhere neutral. But then they’d risk the chance of running into Troy, and that would be an even worse nightmare.  “You can take off your backpack,” he says.  Will hadn’t even realized he’s been clutching the straps with white knuckles until Mike suggests it. He slides it off his body and sets it on the floor leaning against the foot of the bed. He wants to sit down and get started but it feels weird to go near the bed.  Mike must read his mind. “You can sit down, Will,” he says, and he loathes how it sounds sad. Mike doesn’t get to be sad.   Will sits on the edge of the bed with a huff and unzips his bag. “Let’s just get this over with,” he grumbles, and pulls out a notebook and pen. Mike sighs heavily and stomps over to the desk to retrieve his own, then makes his way to the side of the bed and flops back onto the bed. He leans his back against the metal headboard. “Okay,” he almost growls, flicking his pen irritatedly across a blank page of lined notebook paper.  Will doesn’t know what to say to that, but he turns and brings his leg up, bent at the knee and resting on Mike’s bed.  He glares at Mike, then scans the instruction sheet. “Where were you born?” He asks with a sigh.  Mike squints at him. “University Hospital in Indianapolis.”  Will squints back. “Why not Hawkins?”  Mike sneers. “Because my parents are snobs and I was too early.” He rolls his eyes. “My mom never stopped going on about how I was her miracle baby.” “Stopped?”  Something like anger flashes in Mike’s eyes. He presses his lips together and swallows heavily. “Yeah. Stopped.”  “When’s your birthday?”  “April 7th.”  "Siblings?”  Mike looks up at him quickly, the hard line of his mouth softening as if he’s forgotten something. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Two,” he grumbles. “Sisters.”  “Dad?”  “Asshole.” Will can’t help but smile at that. “Same.” 

Read Chapter 10 HERE!

Howdy there, shippers & readers!

The 12th of November marks the impetus of our beloved book club; the very day the server opened to membership and a bunch of us funneled in with our nominations and desire to talk about our favourite fics together. Mingling new faces with some old, we chose to celebrate by hosting a Renaissance round. This meant giving our members the opportunity to revisit some of the OG reads from when we began. With fifteen choices allowed, the vote was in; we read darling it's a faded notion by varnes

We feasted this round. Many members of our club declare this to be one of their absolute favourite fics and with damn good reason. In the delicate aftermath of something unspoken between them, Shane and Ryan navigate the tender line between them just as they're thrust into a circumstance where if they stop touching each other for a second, there's nothing but pain. The book club was unanimous in saying that there really is nothing like the trope of forced intimacy with a rich whipped topping of fake dating and the decadent cherry on top of domesticity without thinking.

Rating: E

Summary:

The sun is too bright and Ryan’s whole body is alight with something that is eating him all the way up from the inside out, but he keeps his eyes open and he makes himself look, and he tells himself that once he finds Shane, he’ll think about it. Once he finds Shane, they’ll make a plan. Once he finds Shane, and only then, he’ll let himself have the thought he’s been swallowing down like bile since he came to: that they didn’t fall.

They were pushed.

OR: Ryan and Shane get cursed by a ghost, and now they can't be not-touching. It's ... not great.

Book Club Thoughts

This fic does so well using the forced proximity to contrast the emotional distance that had been created between them by the misunderstanding(s).

forced intimacy tropes are always gonna be my favourite, and this one is a banger

yeah, the unreliable narrator aspect is done so well. like they're both very certain in their perception of reality, which is why the telepathy aspects later are so impactful.

i really like that [Shane's] skepticism extends to being skeptical of ryan's feelings and whether ryan knows what he's doing

I appreciated how the fic worked at balancing their public and private personas, especially when they were at a point in their relationship when they were less (openly) candid with each other

I love how the landscape, the desert landscape, is described. Love that the fic starts out with a wide lens and a beautiful setting

I think the chief thing i love about this fic is how it makes a dual-POV friends to lovers sing

i like how this fic gets into the performative part of their relationship

god, it's so much of who they are. Shane quibbling in his hipster repression vibes and Ryan outraged because Shane won't share with him as easily. It's all of what I love to read about them

i know pov switching isn't unique but man varnes just. is unparalleled. each voice is so unique, the internal monologues so wonderfully separate.

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whumpy object: a spoon

congratulations. u have unlocked a repressed memory (i was haunted by the spoon killer for years. i literally just managed to watch it in whole at 21 even tho it's literally a joke video. i conquered a fear today)

tw addiction, corporal punishment, brief creepy/intimate whumper, forced intimacy

addiction whump. dirty, burnt spoons

spoons used to give medicine (maybe it's just cherry cough syrup, maybe it's something serious)

spoons used to feed whumpee warm soup (by caretaker when they're too weak? or by whumper as they're tied down and forced to enjoy a nice dinner?)

whumpee born with a silver spoon in their mouth. kidnapped for ransom. forced to work.

whumper born with a silver spoon in their mouth. can't take no for an answer

caretaker born with a silver spoon in their mouth. can't fathom whumpee's predicament that stems from, in part, from now being filthy rich

spooning... nice spooning with someone whumpee loves, or forced with whumper

iced spoons on wounds and swollen places to soothe them

beaten with a wooden spoon as a disciplinary measure

wooden spoon with a sharpened, pointy end

feral whumpee who's only allowed spoons, no forks or knives