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yanderes-galore · 4 months

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... I caved, okay? It's just... I'm a sucker for cute animals and horror... I had to write for the hound whom I pity so much. Obviously this is an AU. I mention the normal monster form but I also mention the cartoon form... yet I made an AU where Smiling Critters can swap between a smaller plush/cartoon form to their Bigger Bodies Initiative form. Why? Why not.

Maybe I'll do Catnap, I haven't decided, been a bit since I've done a fic that's not a request. This is pure brainrot and written at 1-2 AM. Expect mistakes. I just had to get the idea down.

Keep in mind as I write this I realized that you might as well just make this a separate AU from canon. These are still experiments but CatNap is probably not... Theo. Idk, letting 2 AM creativity flow created an AU for the cute stuffed animals so... enjoy?

☀️Yandere DogDay Concept☀️

🐶(My Version)🐶

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Fear of abandonment, CatNap has hurt DogDay in the past, Gore implied, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Blood mention, Forced companionship.

Ah yes, DogDay, the leader of the Smiling Critters.

How I plan to write the Smiling Critters is this...

Each critter has a plush/cartoon form they can wander in.

They are small, maybe going up to about the waist of an adult.

But all critters also have a Bigger Bodies form/monster form.

Which is the form we can see DogDay and CatNap take in chases within Poppy Playtime.

(For those who know my blog you'll notice similarities to my FNAF Fluffy/Stuffy AU and my BATIM Bendy fics)

There's many ways you could meet the orange dog.

But for now... I just want to discuss how I'd write DogDay to get the ideas down.

In his smaller cartoon form he is like a living plushy to you.

He fits snuggly in your arms, a bright smile on his face with a sun collar dangling from his neck.

When you hug him you smell the calming scent of vanilla... a scent that seems to calm your worries with ease.

DogDay would act like a best friend to you.

The dog plush would follow you around, acting like a way to ease your anxiety.

If you were ever anxious or scared... DogDay crawls in your lap with a wagging tail.

His smell and soft fur puts you at ease....

In fact, describing him like this makes him seem like some sort of "service dog" (service plush?).

DogDay is technically still a living being in this form.

He still has blood despite being a living toy.

Which makes him warm to the touch when you hold him.

The smaller form of DogDay is obviously a loyal companion, very similar to a real dog.

Then there's his bigger version... he takes on a more monstrous form but even then still seems to be friendly.

He has a deeper voice and often calls you his "Angel" or "Best Friend".

In this form he still is very attentive to the needs of his new friend.

Especially if he's been left alone for way too long.

Even more so if CatNap decided to torment him like in canon.

In his bigger form he is more capable of scooping you up.

I imagine he still retains his vanilla scent?

In his monster form he probably still has it... but it's mixed with a musky scent.

Imagine if DogDay was left all alone in Playcare like in canon.

All of his friends are gone... CatNap has gone insane... in fact he may even have injuries by CatNap.

But then you show up and pick up the wounded plush.

You hold him close... he feels your warmth...

He gets attached...

Now you have a clingy dog plush following you everywhere.

DogDay is not the violent type.

However, he would do anything to protect you.

He's overprotective, especially if he has been abandoned.

He fears the idea of losing you which leads to him clinging to you.

You may be scared... you may not even like his monster form... but he's still your best friend, Angel!

You may try to run from him once you see his "true" form.

Yet he prevents it... grabbing you tightly and pressing you into his chest.

No matter his form... he still has that vanilla scent.

A scent that makes you relax... one that makes you go limp...

DogDay means no harm.

After all, CatNap could just gas you and force the affection out of you.

DogDay, even if he is in poor condition due to CatNap (legs or not), wants to be your guide.

He often swaps to plush form and monster form.

If he notices you're anxious he does whatever he can to prevent it.

DogDay would always be by your side.

He doesn't care if CatNap tears off his legs... or if blood and dirt stains his orange fur...

He wants to make you smile.

The monster form is most certainly used to either protect you or keep you beside DogDay.

For the most part he prefers to be in plush form with you.

He hates scaring you.

He definitely is receptive to pets like a dog... his tail wagging wildly when you stroke his fur.

DogDay is overly clingy and easily excited.

I wouldn't doubt it if you tossed something and said Fetch, he'd give chase.

He isn't too bad of a yandere.

He's clingy due to a fear of abandonment and overprotective... but surely that's understandable, right?

He just fears the idea of you seeing him feast on other toys...

He feels a hunger deep inside him but doesn't give in.

But if anyone attacked you... he may be unable to help himself.

If DogDay ever accidentally scared you he is quick to apologize and tries to appeal to you.

Blood? Around his mouth and on his paws? No... no things are okay!

See? See? He's just a cute plush dog!

Don't leave him.

PLEASE DON'T LEAVE HIM...!

If you ever tried to abandon the living toy, he won't allow it.

He'll swap to monster form and scoop you into his furry body.

Your nose is assaulted by the smell of musk... dirt... blood...

Vanilla.

It's always that dreaded smell that haunts you... a smell that should be so calming...

Vanilla.

DogDay would hold you close to him... even if you think of him as a monster.

You should see him as a friend... he'd never hurt you!

He'd desperately try to calm you down with his scent and furry hold.

He's covered in blood... but he isn't heartless, is he!?

He's protecting you...

He's helping you...

He's caring for you...

He's yours... and you're his!

You can't abandon him, Angel...

In his eyes, you're his best friend!

Even as you struggle against him he pulls you tighter against him....

It's his job to soothe your anxiety... just breathe in his vanilla scent and relax into his fur...

He can't bear to let go of his new Best Friend...

He can't bear to see his Angel go....

#yandere poppy playtime #yandere smiling critters #yandere dogday

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springtyme · 8 months

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Hi, I'm so excited your requests are open! I love the way you describe scenes, you take the reader around the full area to understand how the setting affects the emotions of the story so beautifully (thinking of your Simon piece, Homeward Bound, especially).

I'd like to put in a request for Sydney Adamu x reader (gn afab is fine!), something very tender and intimate. I'm imagining an established relationship that's still very new, like maybe they're sharing a night routine for the first time, or on a date at a garden/museum?

Craving something v sweet with a bit of "healthy tension" lol, maybe a little soft smut if you are up to it! Thank you so much for sharing your work, if you don't feel like writing this no worries!

𝐀 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 ♡

Thank you so much dear! I love scene setting so hearing that you enjoy it makes me so happy! <3 I had so much fun with this Syd piece (seriously, I love her so much!) so thank you so much for this request, I hope you like it :)

Sydney Adamu x afab!Reader || Masterlist || Sydney playlist

summary: You and Syd are about to spend your first weekend together. Dinner is being eaten and so is something else.

word count: 3.7k

warnigs: Smut! (18+, mdni!) Food. Fluffy smut, cunnilingus/face-riding, vaginal fingering, nipple play/sucking. Reader is afab but there is used no gendering terms. I'm sorry if there is mistakes or anything seems rushed, I wrote this in one sitting and I haven't had time to proofread yet.

As you step onto the crowded L train, the familiar sounds of the city surround you. The rumbling of the train, the chatter of fellow passengers, and the occasional screech of brakes fill the air. You find a seat by the window, your packed weekend bag in your lap as you gaze out at the passing cityscape with a mix of excitement and anticipation.

The weekend ahead holds something special for you – it is the first time you’ll be spending it entirely with Syd, just the two of you. Sydney finally has a whole weekend without any restaurant related obligations which just happens to align with the week her father is out of town and as the train glides through the city, you can’t help but think about how happy you are to have her in your life.

The two of you had met on a cold afternoon in late February. Little frost crystals had formed at the outside of the windows of the little café you were seated inside of. You had come there to get some work done, your small studio apartment didn’t really allow your creativity to flow and you had hoped that a change in scenery would help you, but without any luck. You had instead ended up staring out of the window at the freezing Chicago. Your laptop closed shut as you sat inside the little warm cocoon that was Kasama, feeling small and alone as you looked out on the outside world of Chicago. You had, at some point, looked up and there she was, Sydney, seated at the other side of the café already looking at you. That’s how it all had started. The two of you had started talking, which then had led to Syd inviting you to join her on a culinary journey across Chicago after she told you that her friend and business partner wouldn’t be able to join her, which otherwise had been the plan.

You can’t help but smile as you think back on that day and as the train nears your destination, your smile only grows wider. You walk the short distance to Sydney’s apartment building, your heart beating a little faster with each step. You just can’t wait to see her, she has, in the short amount of time you have known her, become very special to you.

You press the buzzer, hearing the faint sound of Sydney’s voice through the intercom. “Come on up,” she says, her voice filled with warmth and excitement. With a smile on your face, you step into the elevator, your heart pounding in anticipation. As the elevator doors open on Sydney’s floor, you take a moment to compose yourself. You want everything to be perfect, to show her just how much this weekend means to you. You knock on the door, and when it swings open, you’re greeted by Sydney, clad in a comfy sweater, looking gorgeous as always.

“Hi,” she greets you, her eyes sparkling with joy and a gentle smile tugging at her lips.

In that moment, all your worries and nerves melt away. You step into the apartment, right into Syd’s outstretched arms, feeling an overwhelming sense of ease fall over you.

“Hi,” you answer her, enjoying the feeling of her arms around you, as she hugs you tightly. You tow off your shoes and shed your coat which Sydney takes from you to hang up for you before taking your hand in hers, leading you into the apartment.

As you find yourself in the kitchen, Syd kindly takes your bag, and tells you to sit down while she puts your bag into her bedroom. The warm, inviting aroma of simmering spices fills your nostrils and you can’t help but smile at Sydney’s culinary prowess. The soft glow of the day’s last sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a comforting glow upon the apartment, adorning everything with a soft golden hue.

“Whatcha cookin’?” You ask, loud enough for her to hear in the other room.

“Butternut squash soup with a hint of cinnamon and nutmeg as an appetizer. And for the main course, we’re having rosemary roasted chicken with a maple glaze and caramelized Brussels sprouts.”

“Wow, that sounds amazing, smells delicious too. Are you sure you don’t need any help?” You ask from your seat at the kitchen island.

“Nah, I’m good, and I’m almost done anyway, I’ve wanted to try this recipe out anyway,” she tells you, like cooking the enormous amount of food was nothing. “You can help with the dishes after though,” she adds with a cheeky smile on her face as she reenters the kitchen.

“Well, that, I surely can. I might also just be more in the way than any help with the food,” you say with a light laugh.

It’s not that you’re bad in a kitchen, but you are nowhere near Sydney’s level and even though a part of you feels incredibly guilty for not helping you can’t deny how much you love watching her work. Completely in her element. So you let her do her thing and stay put . Nimble fingers dancing across the pots and pans, her brows knitted with focus as she begins to compose the meal, orchestrating a symphony of flavors. “No, you wouldn’t be in the way, that’s not what I meant, I just want to cook for you… It’s like the thing I know how to do, and…” she trails off for a second, eyes staring down at the food before continuing. “I love cooking for the people that are special to me, I guess you could say that it is my ‘love language’ or whatever.”

She does air quotes at ‘love language, but you can’t help but smile at her words. You feel incredibly lucky as you watch her work her culinary magic, especially after what she just said. The way she moves with such grace and confidence in the kitchen is truly mesmerizing. As the mouthwatering aroma of the cooking food fills the room, you find yourself captivated by her artistry, her words really tugging at your heartstrings.

You understand her desire to cook for you, to express her love through her culinary creations. You reach out and gently take her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I know,” you say softly, your voice filled with warmth and appreciation. “It’s one of the things I admire the most about you, you know… It’s not just about the food, it is about the care and thought you put into it. It really is something special Syd. The way you care… It’s really admirable.”

Her eyes soften, a small smile playing on her lips. “You know what?” she says, her voice filled with gratitude. “Having someone to cook for means the world to me. So, thank you for wanting to eat my food, just having you sit there is actually a great help, it helps remind me why I love cooking.” She lets out with a warm laugh, but the sincerity of her words aren’t lost in the slightest by it.

So you stay put. The sizzle of vegetables hitting the hot oil and the occasional clatter of utensils against the countertops create a rhythmic melody that fills the room. And so, you continue to sit at the kitchen island, watching Sydney work her culinary magic.

You watch as she gracefully garnishes the soup with a sprinkle of fresh herbs, roasted pumpkin seeds and pieces of finely sliced chili, transforming the dish into a culinary masterpiece. The delicious smell of the dish wafts through the air, teasing your senses and making your mouth water in anticipation.

Finally, Sydney places a steaming bowl of soup in front of you. The vibrant colors and rich aroma enticing you.“Well, bon appétit,” she says, during a little hand gesture towards the bowl, an almost shy smile on her lips but her eyes gleam with excitement as she sits down at the other side of the table with a bowl of her own.

As you take your first spoonful, the velvety texture and warm spices dance on your tongue, filling you with a comforting sensation. You savor each bite, cherishing the meal Syd has cooked with so much care and love.

The two of you eat and talk and laugh and after the meal you do the dishes together, the jokes and banter flow freely, and occasionally a blob of soap sud will playfully be flickered at the other, turning the usually so mundane task into a delightful ordeal, the clinking of dishes becomes the applause for your comedic genius.

With the dishes done and the kitchen cleaned up, you both find yourselves in the cozy living room, contemplating what to do next. Sydney suggests watching a movie, and the idea immediately sparks your interest.

“Sounds good,” you say, a smile forming on your lips. “Anything in mind?”

Sydney thinks for a moment, her eyes scanning the shelves of DVDs. She has told you about her father’s love of physical media, which has led to a sumptuous collection of movies, music and books filling out multiple floor to ceiling shelves of the apartment. “How about a rom com? I could do with something light and heartwarming.”

You nod in agreement, appreciating the idea of a feel-good movie to complement the warmth and happiness you already feel being in Sydney’s presence. Together, you browse through the collection, but you don’t really find anything that peaks any of your interests. Finally she turns to you when it is clear between you that maybe a movie wasn’t the right call after all, something about the idea of having to look at a screen instead of each other suddenly feeling immensely silly to both of you.

“We could also just sit for a little while,” she says, a lovesick gleam in her eyes.

You smile at the suggestion and feel your heart flutter at the adoration in her eyes. The idea of simply enjoying each other’s company without any distractions sounds perfect. “I like that idea,” you reply, your voice filled with affection.

She redirects her attention from movies to the record collection, pulling one out from the shelves. Shedding the vinyl from its sleeve before delicately lifting the lid of the beautiful vintage record player. Placing the album onto the turntable, handling it with utmost care, gently lowering the needle onto the vinyl. The smooth sound of the Delfonics filling the room, as they start to croon for you.

You settle onto the soft couch, leaning against each other as you both take a moment to soak in the tranquility of the room. With the sun now fully set the only source of light in the room comes from a single table lamp and the candles which Syd had deliberately lit for the two of you, their warm glow casts flickering shadows across the walls, creating an ambiance of cozy intimacy.

You lean your head on Sydney’s shoulder, feeling the warmth and security of her presence as your body’s intertwine. The silence between you is comfortable, filled with a deep sense of understanding and acceptance. As you sit there, Sydney’s hand finds its way into yours, your fingers lacing together. The gentle touch sends a wave of comfort and contentment through your body, and you can’t help but feel grateful.

Without needing words, you understand each other’s thoughts and emotions, and it feels like time stands still. In this moment, the world outside seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of love and tranquility. It’s as if nothing else matters except for the connection you share and the giddy happiness that comes with new love.

“God, I’m so glad Carmy was being a little bitch and ditched me that day at Kasama,” Syd lets out a breathy giggles, shaking her head gently as she finally breaks the silence.

You lift your head, your eyes finding hers. “Me too,” you say, a soft smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Yeah?” She grins down at you.

“Yeah,” you nod, a grin of your own now plastered on your face.

In fact the word ‘glad’ doesn’t even come close to how you feel about it, the word seems way too weak to hold all the feelings you have on the topic. Grateful, ecstatic, completely and utterly over the fucking moon, those are words that might be a little closer to describe how you actually feel about it. But you don’t say that, not yet. It’s not that long since that fateful afternoon when you and Syd had first met, and even less time has passed since the two of you got your shit together and actually confessed your feelings towards each other. One day, you’ll tell her just how incredibly happy you are that Carmen decided to be ‘a little bitch’, to use her own words, which led to you and Syd meeting.

“You think Hallmark sells ‘thank you for being such a little bitch’ cards?” Syd giggles. You know that, despite her choice of words, she actually cares a lot about Carmy. Her and her coworkers are basically family, maybe sometimes a bit dysfunctional, but nonetheless one that does care deeply for one another. Syd had, apparently, stabbed Richie in the ass one time, which they seem to have reconciled nicely from, and somehow only has made Syd all the more attractive to you.

“I don’t think so, but I can get you some paper and crayons if you wanna get crafty,”

Her warm, affectionate laughter fills the room while ‘If I ever saw a girl that I needed in this world you are the one for me’ is sung from the speakers and you can’t do anything but agree with the statement. You snuggle a little closer into her and she does the same. The two of you have become completely entangled by now.

“I love moments like these,” she whispers, her voice filled with affection.

“Yeah, me too,” you reply with a soft sigh.

She dips her head down as you lean up, and your lips meet. What starts out as a slow and gentle kiss soon turns more heated. The two of you move in sync, changing the position on the couch, with Syd now lying beneath you, her back pressed down into the soft cushions, with you hovering over her, maintaining the kiss without breaking it even once. And you continue until your lungs are burning and you have to stop to catch your breath again. The both of you panting heavily as you break apart but you don’t take long before you again plant your lips on her, this time kissing down her jaw and neck. You feel how she squirms under you, little muffled whines escaping from her closed lips as she grows more desperate for you.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whisper into her skin, your voice filled with admiration. You lift your head again, your eyes finding hers . “Can.. Can I take these off?” Your voice laced with a little shyness as you ask her, your fingers ghost over the hem of her pants. But your shyness disappears when she nods with eagerness, pulling off her sweater as you start to undo her pants which she is quick to kick off, leaving her in only her panties and bra. You take a second to take in the view of her all spread out on the couch for you and you can’t believe how lucky you are to have met her, let alone that she reciprocates your feelings.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you sigh with admiration, dipping your head down again, this time planting a trail of kisses down from her collarbone towards the vale between her breasts, continuing down her stomach until you get to the band of her underwear.

“You want me to take these off too?” you ask, looking up at her, through heavy lids, your heart beating loudly in your ears. You and Syd have been taking things slow, the two of you never have been this intimate before, but it feels so right in the moment and the sweet sounds she is making for you only makes your need to taste her even greater. Your eyes lock, she moves her hand down towards you, sweetly cupping your cheek, stroking the pad of her thumb gently over your cheekbone before nodding. “Please, do,” she almost pleads.

You keep eye contact as you get into a better position. Your fingers tug at her panties as you start to slowly glide them down her legs. As the garment has left her body, Sydney spreads her legs wider for you, offering you a better view of herself, her pussy already dripping from eagerness.

“God, you’re so gorgeous,” you purr before lowering your head, kissing up her thighs until you reach her glistening cunt. Burying your face between her legs you flatten your tongue against her entrance, sliding your tongue through her wet folds, a warm shiver running through you as you taste her for the first time. You hum into her, loving the way she tastes and feels against your tongue, lapping into her, flicking your tongue against her clit, making her whine out with pleasure which just makes you even more eager to hear more from her.

“Fuck, right there! Right, fucking, there…” she pants out as you work your tongue a little harder against her.

She bucks her hips upwards, gently pressing her mound against your face. This makes you hum into her pussy again as you feel a warm rush run down your spine by the firm feeling of her against your mouth, which makes her let out a breathy moan from the vibration. Your hands find her hips. Tender fingers, softly digging into her skin as you help her find a rhythm as she starts to gently grind into your mouth.

Her moans grow louder and higher in pitch, which only makes you move your tongue with even more determination and her body starts to tremble. You move your lips, beginning to slowly suck at her clit as she comes closer and closer to her release. You let your thumb take over the work on her sensitive clit, circling it gently as you start to lick into her again.

“I-I’m… I’m so close,” she whines out, making you hum into her again, letting her know that you don’t have any intention to stop. You feel how her walls tighten around your tongue, as she starts to cry out in pleasure, sensing how her muscles relax as she starts to come undone on your tongue. You keep going, keep lapping into her, keep fucking her with your tongue as she rides out her climax, and you have never tasted anything sweeter.

You finally detach your mouth from her entrance, your chin and lips glistening with a mix of her arousal and your own saliva, your eyes blown wide, feeling light, almost drunk from her juices.

“Come here,” Syd whispers, her pupils dilated, making her already dark eyes look like two glistening forest lakes at night. She is so beautiful, you almost can’t take it. A sweet, gleeful smile on her face as she pulls you up to her again, pulling you into a sweet kiss, the taste of her still on your lips.

Her hands sneak under your shirt, palming your warm skin underneath before pushing the cotton up your body, prompting you to shred the garment like she had with hers just before. You break the kiss, only for long enough so that you can pull it over your head, flinging it on the ground before connecting your lips again. Her hands find your exposed chest, gently kneading at the soft skin before she ends the kiss, moving her head down, taking your right nipple into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it before starting to gently suck it into her mouth. Her hand starts playing with your left nipple.

You let out a series of soft moans as she works so tenderly on your tits. She lets go of your nipple with a soft ‘pop’ before moving on to your left breast, taking the other into her mouth. Her now free right hand starts to travel down to your entrance, sneaking it into the hem of your pants and down your underwear.

She slowly slides a finger through your folds before beginning to tease your clit with slow firm circles. You gasp out from the sensation, your body feeling lighter and lighter. after a while she moves her hand, slowly gliding first one, then two, fingers inside of you, stating to slowly fuck you with her fingers. The wet squelching sound of her fingers pumping into you now rings in your ears.

She keeps going and when she curls her fingers at just the right angle you feel how the last string snaps, falling over the edge. Your eyes roll back in your skull and your toes curl as your climax washes over you in electric hot rushes. You tap her shoulder, making Syd release your nipple so she can kiss your lips instead. She kisses you through your climax, turning you into putty in her hands.

“That was nice…” She pants when the two of you finally brak apart, a lovesick smile on her face.

“Yeah… very nice,” you agree, wit a smile mirroring hers. “Should we go get cleaned up?”

“Yeah, we should, but let’s just stay here for a little while first,” she replies, a tired but blissful smile painting her lips.

So you do. You both lay there, breathing heavily, bodies intertwined, basking in the afterglow of the moment. The room is filled with a mix of warmth, desire, and a fulfilling sense of contentment. Time seems to stand still as you cherish the intimate connection you’ve just shared.

The world outside this moment seems distant and unimportant. All that matters is the warmth of Syd’s body against yours, the rhythm of your heartbeats synchronizing, and the blissful intimacy you’ve found in each other’s arms. The silence between you is comfortable, filled with unspoken words and a profound understanding of the depth of your connection.

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tossawary · 4 months

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Having written a lot of complete, novel-length fics at this point... I want to say that it's a lot of work and that it's not weird to struggle to complete a creative project. I don't think it's a moral failing to have WIPs or abandoned works or ideas that just don't pan out for whatever reason. It's not a Bad Thing that you've done to yourself or to anyone else.

Like, I don't want to position myself as a big fandom authority here, I just want to speak from my experience and maybe reassure someone by agreeing that completing any creative project is not easy. I have WIPs and abandoned works you haven't seen. I have ideas that I know I'll never follow through on, both achievable and unachievable ones. Writing takes time and effort that has to be taken from elsewhere, and sometimes work is too exhausting and dinner still has to be made and decent sleep is too important, so you just can't do it. Dedicating time to any one hobby means less time for others and that kind of sucks sometimes. Sometimes, I just don't FEEL like writing and I'm not going to "suffer for my art".

It's flattering to be held in high esteem sometimes for writing long and complete fan stories (I have other fan creators I personally admire for similar reasons), but I do want to make it clear that it's a lot of work (writing is work no matter what you're writing!), I'm pretty lucky to be able to do that work more frequently than many others, and I personally don't think anyone should hold it against themselves (or against anyone else!) if circumstances get in the way. Sometimes, things just don't work out and we need to give ourselves time, or even just move on. I appreciate people's slow-to-update WIPs and abandoned works and stories on lengthy hiatus and fic ideas that will never be written.

So, like, if anyone is feeling a little down because they have a story that they're struggling with... I feel that. I don't think it's weird if your fanfiction is important to you or to feel like you've fucked it up somehow. I don't think you're a bad person or a bad writer if you take years to finish a story or if you have to give up on one because you've outgrown it. I think it's cool to share what you have if you want to share it. I think you're cool.

#tossawary fandom #and if someone leaves a shitty comment about this on your work you can just delete it don't keep it #just because someone sends me a petty complaint doesn't mean I have a moral obligation to hang it on my wall get it out of your house #they can go complain on their own blog that's fine I can't stop them and I just won't go looking for anything but the block button

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

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hey! I was just passing by and wanted to know if your requests are still open? If so, I would like to request one about Aemond x yn (who is the daughter of Rhaenyra) yn is visiting Kingslanding, she is seeing Viserys and begins to receive "timely" visits from lords who want to ask the king directly for her hand since Rhaenyra has not been able to convince her to marry one. She ran away from all these suitors since she was a little girl and Aemond helped her when they were kids but the adult Aemond doesn't want to do such "childish things" so she keeps coping, eventually he gets fun by the ways she scares them away everyone, until he sees a persevering one who is still there and when he sees him talking to her, he feels jealous and scares him with Vahagar, she is happy and thinks that in a certain way, they can still be united as when they were children. After that she has no visitors (Aemond is in charge of scaring everyone away with Vhagar) and spends time with him, eventually she returns to Dragonstone and he appears one day and finds her hiding because she heard that she would receive a visit of a new suitor, he helps her hide while she talks about how she will scare off the new idiot who comes to ask for her hand, how he will make his stay in Dragonstone a hell and Aemond is just there, watching her with a smirk while hears her bc he's the idiot who came to Dragonstone to ask for her hand. sorry if this is too long or specific, but i was thinking in this idea so long and i don't found one with this dynamic i just want a Aemond with a soft spot with a sunshine and witty reader that is his opposite. Thanks! x

Catch Me If You Can ~ Aemond x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

note: I absolutely loved this idea! all my lovely requests are always so creative, I'm enjoying writing these so much! Also haven't been tagging people on requests - is that something people still want me to tag them on? just let me know, happy to do so! word count: 2.3k masterlist warnings: mentions/descriptions of fainting 💚requests are open💚

The first lord who tried to kiss you returned to his father with a blackened eye. Your grandsire, King Viserys had laughed, a sound deep within his chest at your angered expression and reddened knuckles.

“The blood of the dragon burns fiercely in your child, Rhaenyra,” he told his daughter while placing a loving hand atop your head. Rhaenyra had smiled weakly at her father, knowing the trouble you were likely to give her was a lot like what she gave her father.

Though you were a small child, lords flocked to your mother desperate to arrange a betrothal for your hand. As the only daughter of Princess Rhaenyra, it was quite the competition for your hand. Your mother looked for your counsel, wanting to share with you the same autonomy her father had allowed her.

“I do not wish to marry,” you told her, a fierceness in your small voice. You sat atop your father’s lap, as the maester applied a salve to your reddened knuckles. Ser Harwin stood close behind you, inspecting the damage done.

“Sweetling, you need not be wed for quite some time,” she assured, “but a betrothal-”

“Ever.”

Rhaenyra’s brows lifted and she looked towards your father and Ser Harwin. Laenor shrugged, while Ser Harwin chuckled, a soft expression on his face as he gazed upon you.

“She shall grow out of it,” Laenor insisted to Rhaenyra later that night, “look at us, we said very similar things and are married.”

But Rhaenrya knew her daughter well.

As more lords approached Rhaenyra, more attempted to court you. Lords laughed at Jacaerys and Luke, saying they were unafraid of the young princes, lest they attempt to scare them off from marrying their sister.

“It is Y/N you need be fearful of,” Jace and Luke would say, causing faces to drain of color.

You were a clever child, evading suitors in the gardens, hiding within the walls of the sept. There was even a time you told a lord of the Reach to meet you down near the black cells. The boy left screaming, causing you to snicker.

Your uncle Aemond would help you with your antics as well. You often pretended to have fainting spells, as many maidens did in hopes of wooing a suitor. You did so far less gracefully. When your mother forced you on a stroll with a lord from Riverrun, you crumpled to the ground as soon as he began talking of his adventures fishing.

Aemond was quick to your side.

“I must apologize for my niece,” he said, scooping his arms underneath you, as though to drag you from the scene.

“Is she quite well?” the lord asked, a look of concern on his face.

“Yes quite, she shall be alright,” Aemomd insisted, as you let your legs hang heavy as though weighted with lead, your head hanging over your shoulder. You fluttered your lashes holding a hand to your forehead. Aemond suppressed a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“Oh uncle, I had the most terrible dream,” you said as he dragged you away, “ a rather large fish was trying to swallow me whole!” Aemond burst out a sharp laugh before composing himself.

After the events of Driftmark, your mother does not bring up the matter of a betrothal for many years. Rhaenyra requested the help of her father to set you up with a match and sends you to the Red Keep as you reach maidenhood. This is unknown to you, as your mother has you believing you are going to the capital to spend time with your grandsire.

You fill your days with visiting your grandsire, whose health is steadily declining. You sit in his chambers and read to him often, though you are unsure if he can hear you. Soon after you begin this, Queen Alicent begins depositing lords to sit by Viserys bedside, keeping you company. You spot the trick right away, furious.

You have just stormed out of your grandsire’s chambers when you run into your uncle. Aemond looks down at you, a smile playing on his lips as you crash into his sturdy chest. He has grown to be a fearless warrior, the years of training have hardened him. He towers above you, looking like a knight from a song with his long silver hair, and eyepatch that covers the memory of years ago.

“You must help me,” you tell him, and Aemond raises a brow.

“With what, niece?” he questions, taking in your blushing cheeks and annoyed expression.

“There is a plot to marry me off,” you tell him, glancing behind him and seeing the lord walking down the hall attempting to catch up with you.

“Quickly, I shall faint,” you whisper to Aemond, who holds you upright as you begin to lean into his lithe frame.

“Stop that foolishness,” he insists, wrapping his fingers around your forearms, “you are not a child anymore.”

You frown at him, tearing your arms from his grasp, cheeks burning at his insulting tone.

“Princess Y/N!” the lord says, standing next to you, “I had thought I lost you-”

You cut him off with a sharp stomp on his foot. The lord yelps in pain, hopping on one foot as you speed away from him. Aemond raises his eyebrows in surprise, watching as you dash away.

Though Aemond refuses to take part in your antics, he does find humor in them. You enlist Helaena to help, having her cover you in fuzzy caterpillars one morning during a walk in the gardens. The lord you are with turns green as you place a caterpillar on his nose.

It is all in good fun, and Aemond enjoys watching how you laugh and laugh when one by one the suitors disappear. He doesn’t believe any of them are worthy of you anyway.

That is until a lord of the Westerlands comes to win your hand. He is a dashing fellow, with a sly smile and golden locks who sets his sights on you as though a lion cornering its prey. The lord takes your antics in stride, the first is you knocking a goblet of wine on his white shirt during supper.

“I do apologize, my lord,” you told him, “I am a terrible klutz you see, hardly a lady who can be expected to run an estate.”

“Nonsense, it is no bother,” the lord says, “besides, you are a princess, you behave how you like.”

This shocks you, and to Aemond’s displeasure, the lion lord keeps up with you. Even when stepping on his toes while dancing, even when arriving late for dinner. The lord simply smiles and continues to dote on you.

You grow frustrated and worry that Queen Alicent will send word to Rhaenyra that this is a good match. You try to concoct a plan one day and take him to visit your dragon at the dragonpit in hopes she shall scare him off. The lion lord is not easily frightened and instead calls your young dragon sweet. You frown in displeasure.

As you exit the dragon pit, a shadow covers the entirety of the clear blue sky. Your lion lord looks up, stricken with a fearful expression. You follow his gaze, a wicked smile appearing on your face.

Vhagar is a monstrous beauty. She is far too large for the dragonpit, and she lands instead behind it. You look at the lord’s face and take his hand.

“Come now, let us greet my uncle,” you say happily, dragging him behind you.

As you reach Vhagar you watch as Aemond descends.

“Niece,” he says, “my lord.”

Aemond had watched you on your way to the dragonpit, an uneasy feeling of jealousy in his stomach. He had observed your attempts at ridding yourself of the lion lord, and how desperate you had become. Aemond had seen your dragon; your dragon would not scare a small dog, let alone a man. Aemond told himself he had no choice but to come from your aid.

“Uncle!” you say, smiling so wide Aemond feels his heart nearly stop beating, “would you care to introduce Vhagar to my lord?” you say, gesturing to the man beside you. His knees have begun to buckle, his face is pale as he looks at Vhagar.

Aemond’s smile is feline and Vhagar roars loudly, shaking the ground beneath your feet. You laugh as she does, a sharp joyful sound.

“Come my lord,” Aemond says, beckoning the man forward, “though I must warn you, Vhagar is very temperamental. The last time she met someone she did not like, it ended rather unfortunately for them.”

The lord’s eyes nearly pop from his skull. He shakes his head and Aemond scoffs.

“My lord,” he says, in a disapproving tone, “you wish to marry a dragon, and yet you cannot face one?”

Your grin is wicked as you watch the lord’s mouth open and close, a squeak leaving him. Aemond chuckles darkly.

“You are more of a house cat than a lion, my lord,” he sneers, “run along now.”

The lord leaves hurriedly with the permission of the prince, racing back towards the streets of King’s Landing. You laugh and laugh, much to Aemond’s pleasure. The sounds send warmth throughout his body. You look towards your uncle, a strong feeling of unity in your heart.

After that, you do not have any other visitors as you spend most of your days on dragonback with Aemond. Those who try to gain your affection must face a trial to deem them worthy of you. This mainly includes Aemond introducing them to Vhagar. Not one lord lasts long when staring down the beast that lived beside the Conqueror.

Eventually, Queen Alicent writes to Rhaenyra that the efforts are fruitless and you are summoned back home. You depart King’s Landing, promising Aemond you shall write to him, as you have greatly enjoyed his company during your stay. The last month has rekindled a fire within your heart for the one-eyed prince. Aemond hates watching you leave, your presence in the Red Keep was a warmth that is not easily replaced.

Weeks go by, and there is no news of any suitors coming to visit you at Dragonstone. You spend your days flying and attempting to learn High Valyrian, something that has not come easily for you.

“Y/N,” Rhaenyra calls, “come here my love, we are to have a visitor.”

You freeze with fear as you hear your mother’s voice from the great hall. Slowly, you back down the hallway urgently trying to find a place to hide. Rhaenyra knows Dragonstone like the back of her hand, better than you do. You curse at the thought of her finding you and presenting you to another dreary lord.

As you pitter-patter down the hall away from your mother’s calls, your back hits something sturdy and warm. You turn and to your surprise, come face to face with Aemond.

“Aemond!” you say in a hushed whisper, relief flooding through you. You smile at him, throwing your arms around him. He hugs you close, burying his face in your hair. Reluctantly you pull away.

“Thank the gods you are here,” you tell him, taking his hand in yours, “you must help me.”

You pull him towards a nearby veranda, as a smile plays on his lips.

“With what, dear niece?” he asks, eye flickering all over your face. He has missed the sight of you this past month.

“A suitor, how mother keeps finding these fools is beyond me,” you whisper, gazing over the edge of the veranda, “perhaps this time I have a spell, I shall fall over here.” You motion to the edge of the balcony. Aemond looks at you, an amused look on his face.

“You mean to throw yourself to your death?” he asks and you shake your head.

“You shall catch me,” you tell him, smiling eagerly, “ride below on Vhagar and you shall be my savior.” Your eyes are aglow with glee at the thought.

“Ingenious, I know,” you tell him, “the fool shall wet himself with fear. Surely that shall be enough, lest I am sure you and I can make his stay here dreadful.”

Aemond cannot keep the smile from his face as he watches your face light up with mischief.

“Y/N, I cannot,” he says, though reluctant to deny you. Your smile falters, brows knitting together in confusion. Aemond has always proved to be your partner in crime in the end, and his denial of your wishes sends a stabbing pain in your heart.

You believed you would never feel ready for marriage, wanting nothing more than to fly on dragonback for the rest of your days exploring the pleasures of the known world. But after your stay in King’s Landing, you decided marriage may not be so bad if your husband enjoyed similar pleasures.

“Please uncle, just once more,” you beg, clasping your hands in his. Surely he wouldn’t let you slip away from him, not when he had so willingly scared away previous suitors.

“I cannot,” he repeats, and you feel like screaming.

“I do not understand,” you tell him pouting, “you have helped so much before-”

“I cannot help because it is I who has come for your hand.”

You blink, looking up at him, your lips parted in surprise. You look down at your hands that are still intertwined with his.

“I am the fool,” Aemond tells you, an amused smirk on his handsome face.

He lifts your hands towards his mouth, placing a kiss atop your knuckles, violet eye never leaving yours. Aemond watches you closely, sizing up your reaction to his reveal. You do not speak for several moments, as a blush forms on your cheeks.

“I feel quite faint,” you whisper, and Aemond chuckles.

“Do you jest?” he asks, eyes narrowing.

You shake your head, a dreamy expression on your face as you smile.

“Not this time, I’m afraid,” you say and Aemond drops your hands, snaking his arms around your waist to press you against him.

“Do not fret,” he murmurs, placing a kiss atop your head. You can feel him smile into your hair.

“I shall catch you.”

#sapphire requests #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x strong!reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond one eye #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond imagine #hotd imagine #aemond stannies #aemond fic

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neil-gaiman · 1 year

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Hi Neil, I wanted to ask about giving feedback on a loved one's work.

My brother sent me a short story he'd written and asked for my comments as I did my BA in creative writing, have done some freelance articles for a website so he wanted my opinion, and writing persuasive copy is part of my job.

Unfortunately my opinion is that the story is bad.

I've written constructive feedback, found some helpful resources, asked two friends who don't know my brother to sense check my comments and to let me know if they thought any of them weren't fair or justified, and I even told my brother my feedback wasn't sugar coated and he still asked for it.

But I just can't bring myself to send any of it to him.

I love him so much, and he's already written a whole novel that he hopes to get published (I haven't read it yet, he's still making revisions) and I don't want to negatively impact his ambition, but it really is a bad story. One of my friends couldn't even bring themselves to finish reading it.

If you have any advice on how I can give this feedback to my brother, or tips for how to keep writing after constructive criticism, I'd really appreciate it!

Jane Yolen, who is very wise, once told me that she will ask anyone who wants her to read something and give her feedback what kind of feedback they want. Do they want encouragement? Do they want to feel good about themselves? Do they want the kind of un-sugar-coated serious critical response she would give if she were your professor, or reviewing it in a newspaper? Do they want to make what they have made better, or to feel more like someone who has brought something home from school for their parents to appreciate?

Because lots of people don't want to know what you think about it.

I am not like Jane. If I read a story from a friend and it is very bad, I will either lie about having read it (I will have run out of time), or I will try and be encouraging about something, if I can. But not in a way that then allows them to ask me to send it to my agent, or publisher or use what I said as a blurb.

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di-42 · 9 days

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May's Magnificent Fictions

First off let me share with you a little side note, because the brain wants what the brain wants. After an inner struggle I've finally decided to settle on using the noun "fiction" as countable when referring to works of fanfiction. I will stick to this. It has been bothering me.

And now for something completely enjoyable, let me present to you the lovely fics I've been lucky enough to read in May. I't's been a busy, at times stressful month and I haven't had the chance to read as many as I would have liked. I only made a tiny dent in my Marked for later list, which keeps growing and isn't it wonderful? I still have so much beauty, creativity and bliss to look forward to.

I'll try and tag the writers whose tumblr username I know, so they know how loved they are.

WIPs:

The first two WIPs of this list have made me realise that my new favourite trope is the "they never met" one. Or it might just be that both writers are incredibly good!

My Heart Was Always Yours by @addledmongoose

I love this fic and the author's other work so much that sometimes I worry the writer might think I'm stalking them or something! (I'm not! I promise! I only kind of start staring at my phone around 6pm on a Friday night UK time waiting for an update, that's all!). Anyway. like I was saying, in this fiction Aziraphale and Crowley never met until present day and, at the beginning of the story, neither of them knows the other is an angel or a demon. They have both been tasked by their respective head offices to retrieve Raphael's trumpet so Armageddon can start and they both want to find it and destroy it. So they embark on a journey together, thinking that the other is human. This story is so good. It has an incredibly well thought out plot, the characterisation of both, Aziraphale and Crowley are spot on, their interactions are funny and witty but also deep and very sweet. But the point that's dearest to me is that it shows the character of Aziraphale the respect it deserves, which sadly happens less often than it should. The way the writer describe the building of their relationship and their trust will fill your heart with warmth. The stoty has alternate Aziraphale and Crowley POVs and it's narrated in the first person, which will read funny at first but it will flow within the first couple of chapters and it will have been worth it!

This fiction is updated officially every Saturday but if you're very lucky and depending where you are in the world it might be Friday. Only a few more weeks to go, though, it's almost complete and I'll miss it (But I'll re-read it!) Rated M.

The Last Angel by @bellisima-writes

This is another excellent "they never met" story. In this universe, Crowley and Aziraphale were stationed on earth, Armageddon happened, and Hell won the war. All the angels have been killed, except one. This story only has the first 6 chapters out, but you can already see the wonderful job the author has done of thinking how Aziraphale and Crowley would be without having ever met each other, what would be the same and what would be different. And the same goes for other characters, too: so far we've had an insight of how Beelzebub is like in a different universe and hints at how other characters would behave as well. It is full of promise, it sets expectations that I'm hoping will be subverted and the writer is doing such an excellent job with it all. Please go and show this story some love, you won't regret it!

This fiction is updated weekly, definitely every Friday, but I understand from now on every Wednesday and Friday. Rated M.

The Escort by VinyamaDN @vinyama-23

Human AU where Crowley is an escort and Aziraphale hires him for a date. They start getting to know each other and the rest is history. This story touches very delicate subjects, but it's also funny and fluffy. Please read the tags. Rated E.

Whickber Street by Caedmon @caedmonfaith

Lovely human AU where Aziraphale has a bookshop in Whickber Street and Crowley opens a comic book shop on the same road. It's a slow burn, from one-enemy-to-lovers story, full of humour, charm and fluff. Featuring all the shopkeepers in Whickber Street, which is a treat! Update every Monday and Thursday without fail. Rated E.

Complete works:

And Now All Of My Garden Is Grown In Lavender by ilikeblue

I'm so grateful to my lovely mutual and penpal @dashuntsel for recommending this great human AU. Aziraphale is a successful queer romance author whose books are being adapted for TV. At the start of his career, his agent, Gabriel, insisted he claims to be married in order to gain more readers. Now that the spotlight is on him, Aziraphale needs someone to play the part of his husband. Did I mention that Crowley is Aziraphale's gardener and friend? I'm sure you know where this is going. This story has a little angst and lots of good vibes of trust, friendship, love and loyalty. And a happy ending! Rated E.

Lit by @fellshish

Fellshish is one of my favourite fiction writers and this piece doesn't disappoint. Making people laugh is much more difficult than making people cry and fellshish succeeds in the task so effortlessly! (They can also make you laugh while wanting to cry, but for that you'll have to read their other stories. This one is angst-free). Time-wise this story can be collocated after season 1 and is not canon compliant with season 2. Crowley enrolls in a literature course without realising it was a fantasy literature course. The book that will be read this semester is "Good Omens - The Nice And Accurate Prophecies Of Agnes Nutter, Witch". And the class will get to meet the author, Neil Gaiman. This book seems to describe only too well the event leading to the failed Armageddon, including things that only Aziraphale and Crowley would know. How is that possible? And what would happen if it fell on heavenly or hellish wrong hands? And, oh Satan, did someone say TV adaptation?? A truly amazing, funny piece that will make you feel better after a hard day at work. Rated Teen and up.

Gate Duty by Ginger_cat @gingiekittycat

Not really a crossover, but a Good Omens fiction with elements of The Good Place. You can absolutely read it and enjoy it if you haven't seen The Good Place. placed in time post season 1. Aziraphale is called back to heaven to Gate Duty and he's decided to go despite Crowley's protest. Crowley has Beelzebub assign him to Gate Duty as well, so they don't have to spend 300 years apart. So they set to out to judge the souls and decide whether to send them to the good place or the bad place, as they have rebranded heaven and hell. In the process they meet a few souls that you might or might not know, not the focus of the story. This fiction manages to be funny and incredibly angsty at the same time and it was incredible to see how some of the details in it would resonate with season 2, which wasn't out at the time the fic was written. Rated E.

Of Size And Other Matters by LCwrites

Lovely from strangers to lovers, fake relationship human AU. Aziraphale needs a date to accompany him to an event hosted by his brother, Gabriel. Crowley receives a text from a stranger, clearly by mistake, but why not having some fun? I really like the dynamics between them, the ease and the trust. A tiny bit of angsty pining but quickly and happily resolved. Rated E.

One shot:

Not Nice by Sad_chaos_goblin @sad-chaos-goblin

Great one shot that follows the wall slamming scene!What would have happened if the former nun hadn't interrupted their "Intimate moment"? This fic is a treat, sweet and hot and fluffy all at the same time. Rated E.

#good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfiction recommendation #good omens fanfic rec #good omend fic rec #good omens fiction #good omens fic rec #thank you for my pornography #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands

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copperbadge · 2 months

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One of the things I used to do when I was having creative difficulties was to declare a moratorium on creation -- say to myself, "Well, you're blocked or frustrated with everything. Maybe no more writing for the rest of the month," and then no matter what, I would commit to doing no more writing until the set date. I was just giving myself permission to take a little space without guilt, but once I'm not allowed to create, I tend to want to, so it's often been not just restful but rejuvenating. I have other coping methods that I've built, so I haven't had to do it in a long time, but apparently it still works.

The last two weeks have been a lot of travel, socializing and work, and I haven't had a ton of time or space to myself. It's been for good reasons, and overall very positive, but I've done essentially no fiction writing, especially since before that I was getting Royals/Ramblers out the door and pulling the Omnibus V2 together. But this morning I sat down before the day really began and realized I did actually want to write. I didn't get to actually do much because R and baby U woke up and I wanted to cook breakfast and hang out with them, but at least I wanted to write, and had a vague idea of how to attack it.

Life keeps feeling unreal -- I keep thinking something's profoundly off, and then realizing yeah, I've been putting my entire normal existence on hold for weeks on end. Even when I've been in Chicago I've been sick and work's had some unusual challenges, and there have been a few novel personal life events. A lot of what I have done has also been laced with an anxiety I don't normally have to deal with, for one reason or another.

Tomorrow are the last few hurdles -- I have to get to the airport and I have a non-direct flight to Chicago for the first time in over a decade, which are always stressful. Once I'm home, it's just the usual travel recovery: laundry, cooking, reassuring kitties. I have to get through the rest of the week's work, but at least there's nothing too intensive. The weekend is mainly free, though I'm going to try and see if I can see a few people socially and do some shopping for a party I'm throwing the following weekend.

It does feel like the hits keep coming, like this hectic pace is just my life now, but I know that I'll be home, with time and resources I haven't had in a while, and things will slowly ease up. I was telling myself I had to hold on until April 10th, and really it's going to be more like the end of April before silence truly descends, but at least after tomorrow I'll have time to write and finally the motivation as well.

I do feel sometimes like there was a "normal" that I had established which started slowly vanishing after the ADHD diagnosis, and I'm not sure I'm equipped to build a new one in the same way. That said, I'm sure I'll settle back into a groove once I'm sleeping in my own bed for more than two nights running.

It feels like the space I had carved in the world for myself now doesn't quite fit me anymore. It's a neutral kind of sensation -- not comfortable, but not painful, and equally not very productive. But it's not like I evaporate if I don't figure it out immediately, I suppose.

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seelestia · 1 year

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If you really want to write something for me (crab 🦀) then how about some Kaveh fluff because he is way to relatable right now, especially in my current situation (doesn’t have to be though, I didn’t expect you to want to write something for me so get a bit creative with it lol) 🦀 🦀 🦀

— 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲 & 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲.

SUMMARY. when you offer a friend a suggestion on how to increase his efficiency, you don't expect your intimacy for him would also increase alongside it. (he doesn't expect it too.) (1.5k+ words)

CHARACTERS. kaveh + GN!reader.

GENRE. fluff, angst with comfort, friends to ??? (when ur friend starts looking a lil too good for some reason...).

CW. references to kaveh's backstory, implications of crying and stress (kaveh our beloved <//3), reader wears reading glasses (cool stuff) and rambles abt naps.

THOUGHTS. ik all kaveh simps and kinnies want to give him a hug, so here you go! i cherish him vv much. to 🦀 anon, let's just treat this as like your commissioning me in a way (i hope this ficlet is alright?? i'm rusty hhhhh) ♡

✰ masterlist.

"Ughhhhhh."

So, the rumors amongst the people of the Akademiya are true, after all; that there can never be a silence that lasts too long when a certain man with blond hair is present.

"Gahhhhhh."

For someone who is still at the prime of his life, KAVEH sure looks like he has already aged a hundred years in the span of a single night. But according to the people at the Akademiya, this occurrence is nothing out of the ordinary and as someone who has known him for years, you can absolutely concur with them.

With a hand on his temple and a heavy sigh that weighs a thousand troubles, there is no other way for the blond male to express his frustration besides verbal means — and to that, too, you are a witness sitting across from him on the table.

Guess that's just the price you have to pay for agreeing to help him when he begged you yesterday. According to him, your "job description" is just to stop him from dozing off because a deadline from a client of his is nearing way too quickly for his liking.

Thus, here you are — watching him do his work while you do your own work on a table at his place (or more precisely, his room in Alhaitham's place but you don't want Kaveh to fly into a fit of rage).

"My head hurts," Kaveh groans.

"Because you've stared at that blueprint for hours now," you answer.

"My back hurts too," he complains again.

"Because you haven't changed your position ever since we started sitting," you retort again.

If anyone were to ask for some sort of proof about the frequency of Kaveh's grumbles, the fact that you could respond so naturally and quickly while barely taking your gaze off the documents spread out in front of you, as if you've done this so many times before (which you have), would have sufficed.

"[Y/N]," Kaveh calls your name in a dramatic whine, "You're supposed to sympathize with me...!" But you don't find the need to look up from your paper when you can almost feel the pout forming on his lips already.

It isn't as if you don't want to empathize with him, but that sight of his pout happens to be quite adorable — does it count as being mean if you want him to keep it on for a bit longer? Ha, what a strange feeling.

"Then, why don't you take a nap?" you give him a suggestion as you look up to spare your colleague a glance, "I'll wake you up in about 20 minutes or so."

That look of hesitance on Kaveh's face makes you raise an eyebrow. "Sounds tempting, but are you sure doing that wouldn't waste more time instead of saving it?" the man tilts his head questioningly with a frown as if he is unsure of the right answer himself.

"Idiot," you blurt out.

Thank goodness the circumference of the table isn't wide enough to interrupt your movements as you put down your reading glasses and reach out to pull on Kaveh's cheek gently. He, as the one on the receiving end, doesn't think the gesture is as gentle as it looks though.

"Hey! Ouch, ouch—" Kaveh cries out a little yelp that is a perfect representation of his surprise. "Let me ask you this," you release his cheek from your grasp and he expresses gratitude to the Dendro Archon like never before while you continue, "Why do you think you've been staring at that blueprint without being able to function properly?"

"Uh, umm," he stammers, "...Because I feel tired, maybe?" Again, he sounds unsure of himself but that is most likely because you've shaken off half of his brain cells by pinching his cheek just now. Fortunately, judging by that satisfied expression on your face, he seems to have gotten it right.

"Good," you nod approvingly, "Naps have been proven to provide relaxation, reduce fatigue, and increase alertness. The most optimal time for adults is between 10 to 20 minutes."

Kaveh listens to you intently, but that dumbfounded look he has on almost says otherwise. Noticing this, you decide to feign an aura of seriousness as you add, "I was being generous when I offered to wake you up after 20 minutes, by the way. I could've set it to 10 minutes instead."

"You're ruthless," he gapes.

"So, are you going to take a nap or not?" you stifle a giggle.

"Seems like that's the best option I have right now," your dear friend can only shrug his shoulders defeatedly. In order to prepare for his nap, Kaveh sets aside the blueprint he has previously spent hours working on and neatly folds his arms on top of the table.

"Sleeping on a desk isn't very comfy but it'll do," he heaves out an exhausted sigh. Not even one second into placing his head atop his folded arms, he is already missing the softness of his bed back at home — but he can't really complain, so he closes his eyes in silence despite the slight discomfort.

You observe, picking up the disgruntled noises Kaveh makes as he shifts around to find the right position to lay his head. This quiet moment where your banters with him finally die down is when you can truly see the burdens weighing upon his shoulders and your gaze can't help but soften.

Despite how empathetic he appears or how his dramatic antics always elicit a laugh out of others, you know Kaveh really has been through a lot — and you wonder if you didn't suggest he take a nap, would he have neglected his health to do more in a state of low efficiency? Does he often allow himself some time to rest like this?

"You're really tired, aren't you?" your voice lowers into a soft murmur.

"...Yeah," his answer comes out quieter than your question.

"Deadlines are killing me. I know it's meant to help me be organized and all," you see how he opens his eyes to glance at the blueprint mere inches away from his face, "But right now, it's putting more pressure on me than anything."

Kaveh exhales another drained sigh, "And I still have my debts to worry about too. God, when will this all end..." His voice eventually trails off into an evident crack like he is about to choke, "So many things at once, I feel like it's all crashing on me..."

Your heart clenches. He's about to cry, you note.

"Hey," you speak tenderly. "Don't frown so hard, it'll make your head hurt more," you extend your hand to rub soothingly at the deepening frown on his forehead with your thumb. "Oh, s-sorry," his lips try their best not to tremble when he lets that apology slip, but you're not here to scold him.

"Even if it all comes crashing down on you, you'll be able to push them all off eventually, right? One at a time," you say as you rub a few more circles on his forehead to soothe his headache. You're not certain on how he'd receive your words, so you purse your lips with a tinge of reluctance, "Even now, you're still working on it, aren't you? Don't beat yourself up for not reaching your goal when you're still in the process. That's not fair to yourself."

There is a moment of silence before you hear a series of sniffles. "Curses..." he mumbles with a pathetic chuckle, "Look at me, putting this all on you when I'm supposed to be taking a nap." Just as you're about to shake your head in denial, Kaveh's eyes flicker to meet yours — and you're momentarily stunned by how they look.

Mesmerizing irises in the color of red stare back at you; they're glassy as if a single touch would make them ripple and a dam of tears will burst from it, yet filled with unspoken gratefulness.

"And... thanks for saying that," he smiles, "It's been a while since people actually took my problems seriously, s-so um, shoot—" Darn it, his tongue just has to mess up at the worst timing! Kaveh picks himself back up with a small cough, "Uh, anyway, what I was about to say is that it means a lot to me... So, thank you."

He peers at you worriedly after finishing his words, concerned that you'll laugh at him instead. But rather than a laugh, he is met with the softest smile and Kaveh swears— he swears that his heart has never thumped this hard before. Never ever.

"I'm glad," you say and suddenly, he feels oddly exposed underneath your gaze. He has always been more used to your sterner yet caring side; so, this gentleness of yours is sending inexplicable warmth rushing through his veins.

Oh no.

How is he supposed to sleep now?

Then, comes the sensation of something in his hair and Kaveh winces before registering the fact that it's actually your fingers that are combing through his hair. The shock easily fades into relaxation and he lets out a sigh of contentment, "That feels nice."

"Should I stop?" you ask.

"N-no," his hand grabs onto your wrist almost desperately as if keeping it in place. "Keep going... please," Kaveh utters the last word so meekly you almost mistake it for a whisper.

You smile to yourself.

"Sleep well, Kav."

Perhaps, you uttered those words with more love and newfound affection for him than you realize.

And maybe he, too, realizes the same.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

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