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choism · 1 year

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Of Course | j.wy

Wooyoung x Transmasc!Reader; Featuring Genderqueer!Best Friend!Hongjoong

Genre: Friends To Lovers, Hurt Comfort, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: penetration, unprotected sex, squirting, cunnilingus, hurt with lots of comfort, themes of gender dysphoria, themes of bullying, lots of insecurities, reader uses they/he pronouns, Hongjoong uses they/them pronouns, Wooyoung is a gay man with an open heart

You can find the woosan version of this fic here! [Not out yet]

A/N: Sorry I delayed it so long but since this is not only a very sensitive topic for some but it is a topic very close to my heart so I wanted this fic to be perfect. I myself struggle with lot's of gender dysphoria and sometimes the way I cope is by reading trans coded or straight up trans!idol/trans!reader smut or fluff and I wanted to really convey how I may feel sometimes in this work. I really hope you all enjoy it and once again, a huge thanks to @wooyoblr for proofreading for me!!

Click here to be added to my taglist!

Tagging: @bunnypig18 @brownieracha @babyhailey819

You’ve never really understood it.

Wooyoung has always boggled your mind. Since meeting him in your freshman year of college, back when you had just begun to discover and explore your identity, he has shown you nothing but kindness. Always understanding, always trying to understand.

Hongjoong had integrated you into the friend group, them really being your first friend who understood how you felt, the turmoil inside.

“Hey everyone, this is y/n, they are my new friend. Make sure to make them feel welcome.” Hongjoong welcomed you in, they had taken you under their wing after catching you having a breakdown outside of Dorm A. They had comforted you as you cried, telling you all the things you wanted to hear after getting into an argument with your roommate about ‘presenting more feminine around her friends’. They understood you on a deeper level.

Wooyoung didn’t, he didn’t understand yet. But he tried to, he wanted to. He was the first to greet you after Hongjoong welcomed you in.

“Hey, I’m Wooyoung! I hope we become close friends.” Wooyoung’s smile seemed to light up the entire room. You had just met him but his presence, his very being, had felt warm and inviting.

Everyone else greeted you the same, but something felt different about Wooyoung from the get go. From then on you hung out with the group. You mostly hung out with Hongjoong outside of the group, them being the most understanding of course, and over time they had become one of your best friends. You relied on them a lot.

You had met Hongjoong in your shared psychology class, as ironic as that is. You had sat next to each other in the full class and on the first day the professor had everyone do an activity, making pronoun and name tag plates to keep for the first week of classes. The pronouns you had decided to write were they/he which had piqued their interest.

“Hey, I’m Hongjoong, what’s your name?” they had asked you, their curiosity shining through their eyes.

“I’m y/n, nice to meet you.” They noticed how shy you seemed and wanted to loosen the air. You peeked at their own name plate which had ‘they/them’ sprawled on it in quite frankly, horrible handwriting. It made you giggle a bit out loud on accident.

“What’s so funny?” They cocked an eyebrow at you, a small smirk quirking at their lips.

“Nothing, it’s just, I can barely read your name tag. What are your pronouns?” You honestly had just wanted to double check. You could read it fine but for some reason you felt like you wanted verbal confirmation, confirmation that you weren’t the only non cis person on campus.

“They/them! I’m genderqueer.” They smiled brightly, the prospect of meeting someone else who doesn’t fit the binary filling their own heart with glee. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your own gender? I noticed you use they/he.” They pointed at your own name tag, decorated in doodles and bold letters.

“Oh I uh, I’m not sure haha, I’m just feeling things out for now,” you replied, slinking back into your chair with just a slight bit of dread. It’s rare that you admit anything out loud, and even rarer to a stranger, but they made you feel comforted.

“That’s fair, we are all figuring our own shit out. I’m glad to have met you y/n.” They held their hand out to shake your own and you took it slowly, a smile spreading across your face.

At the end of the class the two of you exchanged numbers and had texted over the next few days, a close friendship quickly forming. They became the first friend you made that was similar to you, that understood you.

One day, you were caught crying again, this time in the library.

“Hey y/n, what’s wrong?”

You had expected it to be Hongjoong as usual, but you turned around and were greeted with a different but familiar face.

“Wooyoung?” you said between sniffles, digging your head out of your sleeve from laying it down on the table.

“Are you alright? What happened?” His voice was soft, calming. Unlike most who had ever asked if you were okay, his voice held a weight to it that you had only felt from one other person, that person being Hongjoong.

“It’s nothing, really.” You wiped your face of your tears. Wooyoung sat in the chair across from you, looking at you not with sympathy– but of something else. Comfort maybe? To this day you still aren’t sure what it was.

“No, tell me what’s on your mind, I’m here to listen.” His voice dripped in genuine concern and for some reason, it got through your usually tough exterior.

That day, you had told him everything you had told Hongjoong, about what goes through your head, why you feel the way you do, and how the people closest to you refuse to accept how you feel and think. He sat there and listened intently. He asked questions but nothing offensive or insulting. He wanted to understand, he wanted to learn.

It felt like the two of you sat and talked for hours, and maybe you had. He made you feel safe, and comfortable. He made you feel wanted, in a different way that Hongjoong had made you feel.

Hongjoong was like you; they knew what it felt like to be confused, to not see yourself correctly when looking in a mirror, but Wooyoung was different. Wooyoung didn’t understand as well, but he wanted to. He would never feel the way you feel when you wake up in skin that doesn’t feel like your own, but he did his best to listen, and comprehend.

Months pass by and the two of you grew close; even the group noticed. “I think Woo has a crush,” Mingi teased.

“I think y/n fell for him first,” Jongho would say.

And before you two had even recognized it, they did. Hongjoong always knew, however.

The day after spilling your heart out to Wooyoung, you had confided in Hongjoong about what happened, feeling a bit scared. “I’ve never been this open with someone cis before,” you had said. After listening intently to the way you spoke about Wooyoung, Hongjoong knew – he just could tell in the way your tone of voice wavered in pitch.

After the joking and teasing, the two of you had finally realized how you felt about each other. One day, while hanging out in your dorm, Wooyoung had confessed. “Y/n, this is gonna sound so stupid…” He trailed off, biting his lip and searching for the right words to say. You were looking at him, fully concentrated on his words. You could predict what he was going to say subconsciously, and it made your heart feel tight.

“What is it, Wooyo?” The nickname made his own heart clench – if it could burn any more than it already was from the buildup, it would be nothing but ashes.

“I was wondering, if– well…” You searched his face for any sign of comfort and after a moment of looking around the room he gathered his confidence and locked onto your eyes, the assurance you needed settling your heart, just the slightest bit. With bated breath, he starts, “Will you go out with me?” He pauses only for a second, his breath hitching as he looks intently into your eyes before he gets nervous and speaks again, “It’s okay if you say no, I mean you don’t have to. I mean I totally get it if–” His words were cut short by your soft lips melding with his gently, just a slight touch if anything.

You pull back as quick as you had kissed him and smiled as wide as your mouth would allow. “Of course I want to go out with you, Youngie.” His own smile grew three times the size of your own, and he leaned forward pressing a more firm kiss onto your mouth.

Wooyoung held your face in his large hands, deepening the kiss before pulling away. “You have no idea how happy I am.”

***

A few years passed and it led you to now, in Wooyoung’s dorm lazily drawing circles on his stomach while he works on some homework. The two of you are laying on his bed, you curled into his side while he types away on his laptop. The soft yellow light from his desk lamp illuminates the both of you, casting a shadow on the wall behind the bed. You look up at his face and admire the curve of his jaw, and the way the light hits his face, showing the perfect sculp of his nose. Sitting here was comforting, but recently your mind slipped again from the long silence.

Why did Wooyoung love you? Why was he with you? What does he have to gain from dating someone who feels masculine, but has the body of a woman? Why would he willingly want to be with someone like you? Wooyoung is a cis gay man, so why in the world would he want to be with someone like you? You don’t have what he wants, and there is a chance that you may never have it. You don’t even realize it, but the thoughts crowding your head made tears prick your eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he questions with concern, a thumb swiping at a small tear that fell from your eye.

“What? Oh sorry, it’s nothing, I was just thinking.” You’re lying, of course he could tell that you were lying, and of course he wouldn’t let it slide.

“No, don’t do that.” Wooyoung closes his laptop and sets it on the desk next to his bed, just short of an arms length away. He brings his other hand up to your arm, thumbing over your skin to soothe you. It only makes you aware of what you are. “Tell me what’s on your mind, sweetheart.” He looks down at you with furrowed eyebrows, concern drawing on his face.

Wooyoung has never, and probably will never look at you with a look of pity, or sympathy. He only feels. He feels what you feel, he feels the hurt, the loneliness. He may never understand, but the want, no– the need to understand is enough.

“I just–” you start, and struggle to continue. You sit up on the bed and face him, his arms now in his lap and his eyes focused on your face. Your tears well up a bit more. “Why do you like me?” you ask, another tear slipping from your eye and sliding down your cheek.

Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrow empathetically but he makes no move to reach for you, knowing where you may be going with this. “Sweetheart, why wouldn’t I like you? You give me so many reasons to.”

In the past, this very moment has happened and it’s always been over stupid reasons. You love Wooyoung, but you envy who he is, the way he looks. It’s not a harsh thought, it’s something you think about most people you admire, even strangers, but you can’t help but let the thoughts consume you. The way his body was sculpted, the way his face looks, he is who you want to be. You envied him and Hongjoong, for being so comfortable in their own skins when all you wanted to do was crawl out of your own. It’s a selfish thought.

You look down at the sheets away from his face and suck back your tears. “But I’m not who you want. I’m fucked up, I don’t even know who I am. Why?”

Wooyoung takes the opportunity to finally guide his hand onto your jaw, lifting your head up to look at him. “I love you because you’re you, y/n. Why would I let something so trivial get in the way of how I feel? I don’t care what you look like, I don’t care about what sex you are. You are you, and I love every part of you.” He scoots closer to you, your knees touching as he leans forward to place a gentle kiss on your lips, then where your tears fall. “You’re mine,” he says between kisses, trailing down your cheeks, to your jaw, and to your neck. “My beautiful boy.”

The word boy ignites a fire in your heart, and slows the tears.

“I want you, and only you.”

His large hands place themselves just above your knees to ground himself, before he pulls away again. He squeezes the area reassuringly. He gently places short kisses against your neck. Wooyoung’s mouth against your skin makes sparks fly with every touch you feel so grounded, so real underneath him. He makes you feel like you.

“Will you let me have you?”

Another tear drops, but it’s not a sad one. He truly loves you, and you can see it. You spend countless hours worrying about your appearance, your mind, what others think of you. But Wooyoung soothes those worries. He is just what you want, what you need. You may forget from time to time but deep down you know, and you just need to be reminded.

“Of course.”

Both pairs of lips find each other once again, heat bubbling beneath the surface of the heavy kiss. Wooyoung melts into you with every breath, every touch, and you melt into him just the same. The two of you become one as your passion grows. You climb into his lap and grind down slightly, throwing your arms around his neck to ground yourself.

Wooyoung grinds up into you and meets your rhythm, his cock steadily growing harder from the heavy air now surrounding the both of you. You slide your tongue into his mouth languidly, taking the time to explore it like it was your first time. But with Wooyoung, everything felt like your first time.

He made you feel so different from what anybody else had ever made you feel.

As Wooyoung grinds up into your center with more force you let out short breathy moans. His half hard cock is enough to get you aroused and feel the fire grow in your abdomen. You tug at his shirt lightly, “Wooyoung, clothes, please.” You climb off of his lap and start to undress yourself. Every time you have been intimate with Wooyoung, you never felt like you had to pretend to be someone else. You never felt like a woman, or a man. All you felt was Wooyoung.

Being intimate with him was so natural that you never thought about anything but the way he made you feel, and you didn’t feel like you had to pretend with him, you could just be you.

The both of you undress quickly and you lay back against his bed, Wooyoung crawling between your legs and up to your face, placing butterflies kisses along your jaw until he gets to your neck. He suckles on your neck leaving small hickeys and bruises trailing to your collarbone, making sure to avoid your chest.

“Can I eat you out?” he asks gently, taking extra care to circle his thumbs on your inner thighs as he kisses your belly lightly.

“Yes, god please, Wooyoung,” you breathe out and reach to rake your hand through his hair.

He looks up at you with shimmering eyes, lust and arousal swirling in them and you swear you could cum right then and there. He dips down into your hole and places experimental kitten licks along your folds, dipping his tongue inside of you every now and then just to get a better taste. “So good for me,” he says, breathless. “Tastes so good, my good boy.” The pet name causes you to moan loudly and you really hope Jongho hadn’t come back to the dorm yet or he totally would have heard that.

Wooyoung swirls his tongue up to your clit, already hard and throbbing lightly in anticipation. He sucks lightly on it, switching between that motion and kisses when he brings his fingers up to your hole, inserting one just up to the first knuckle. Your moans seem to be neverending as you feel your orgasm build quickly. You feel your muscles tighten and contract, preparing for your impending high. He inserts another finger and scissors them to stretch you out a bit, before curling upwards to hit your sweet spot. He mouths at your bud with more force as he can tell you're close.

Your grip on his hair tightens when he moves his fingers at a much faster pace and it becomes clear what he is trying to do. His fingers fuck upwards, hitting your spot over and over. Your moans grow even louder when you feel a white hot sensation heat the area on and around your clit. It isn’t long before you feel a wetness rush through, your orgasm hitting strong as your juices cover Wooyoung’s mouth, squirting all over his face and the sheets below. He drinks it all up as he continues to lap at your clit and finger you. The way he mouths at your center sends shiver up and down your spine. He had always been amazing at oral, eating you out like a fresh fruit he couldn’t get enough of.

“Tastes so good.” He cleans you up as you come down from your first high. “So good for me, sweetheart, so pretty.” He leans up and kisses you, his mouth still coated in your cum and juices. “Want me to fuck your hole now?”

You whimper in response, pressing your legs together but his own strong legs blocking the way. Wooyoung is leaning against you fully, his cock teasing your pussy as he ruts forward.

“No, I need a response sweetheart.” His mouth latches onto your neck, wet kisses covering your bruises.

“Please Youngie, I need you to fuck me. I’m such a good boy please.”

He groans loudly at you using your own pet name. “Okay, I’ll fuck you, such a good boy.” He lines up his cock with your entrance and pushes in with no resistance, the mixture of cum and squirt being enough to lube up the both of you. Wooyoung was average sized but had enough girth and veins to make up for it. He always filled you so well, up to the brim. It’s like his cock was made for you. “Fuck, so tight, so good.” he moans, bottoming out and letting you adjust.

“Mm, so full Youngie, please move,” you whimper beneath his touch.

Once you adjusted to his size, he started to thrust slowly, taking in the way you clench with every thrust, and the beautiful sounds that tumble from your mouth when he hits the right spot. “So pretty, all mine.” He picks up his pace slowly, lifting your leg over his shoulder to get a better angle to hit deeper. You're seeing stars with every thrust of his hips, the feeling of his balls slapping into you making him feel so real, making you feel grounded.

He starts pounding into you with time, feeling his orgasm build as he fucks relentlessly. “Wooyoungie, so good don’t stop,” you moan loudly. You didn’t think anything could be better than this. “Fuck, love you so much,” you practically yell. You’re feeling so much, so much of him. You feel all of him. It’s overwhelming almost, the way you feel when with him, when he touches you. Your hand is resting next to your head and he takes the opportunity to lock his fingers with yours, holding your hand tightly as if a small reassurance. You can feel the familiar heat in your abdomen build once again and you squirt a few times before your final orgasm washes over you.

Wooyoung feels himself just as close, so on edge. “Fuck, let me fill you up, wanna be full? Does my good boy want me to fill him up?” He buries his neck into your shoulder.

“Yes, make me yours.”

With a few final thrusts he empties inside of you, rope after rope of cum coating your walls and filling you up perfectly. “Love you, fucking love you so much. You’re mine.” His hips still and you both breathe heavily. He leans up from your shoulder and places a soft kiss onto your lips. “Who’s are you?” he asks softly, running his free hand through your hair and squeezing your clasped hands reassuringly.

“I’m yours, only yours.” You kiss his forehead as he pulls out, his cum dripping out of your hole and down your taint onto the sheets. You clench a bit at the feeling of emptiness. He places a kiss on top of your forehead.

“Am I really?” This time, he asks you and looks at you with that same look he gave you a few years ago, back when you had opened up to him for the first time. You feel you heart swell with warmth and comfort.

“Of course.”

#ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez angst #jung wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung angst #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung angst #transmasc reader #transmasc smut #trans reader #trans smut #genderqueer hongjoong #tw gender dysphoria #tw hurt #tw angst

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artemisapollo97 · 1 year

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In celebration of World Book Day, I am once again throwing the book at you!

My book!

Look at it! That's my book, that's my name!!

Here's the back!

And because I'm feeling generous, I'll even let you lot sneaky peek the first chapter 🤫

Now if it is of any interest to you, you can find it on Amazon, Waterstones, WHSmith and more, just give it a Google! All I ask in return is an honest review! 😊

If it's not any interest to you, I wish you great endeavours on finding the right book!

Happy World Book Day!

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the1ofmanyfandoms · 9 months

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Make eclipse x reader hurt/comfort please ft. Eclipse being the one comforted and chubby reader 👉👈

Yes YES YES!

This is just the PERFECT ENERGY I NEED! ^w^

Okay.

TW: mentions of death. Blood in the form of oil. Mentions of being hurt. Reader being insecure about their body.

“You’re perfect to me…”

You had….somehow gained the trust of a very dangerous robot who just so happened to go by the name Eclipse. He was a bit of a stick in the mud but he had his sweet moments. Today you just couldn’t find him anywhere, no matter where you looked he just wasn’t there. You knew he was probably somewhere in his lab, so you started your way towards it, but as you did…

A huge explosion sounded

Right from his lab.

You gasp as you hear a sharp scream and sprint down the stairs, almost hitting the wall as you slip down the smooth white concrete. You slam the button that opens the door with your fist and your eyes widen in horror as the open door reveals the lab covered in black ash, your eyes dart around to look for your lover, Eclipse.

You eventually find him in a corner of the room just sitting there, limp. You rush over and kneel down, lifting his faceplate up with both of your hands, he looks like….he’s struggling to breathe? Can animatronics even…never mind, there’s no time to think about that, Eclipse is hurt.

His eyes open up a bit and he glances at you, “…Y/N…?” He mumbled, his voice raspy as fuck like he swallowed a damn cheese grater, “Hold on okay? Im going to get you help” you say, hoisting him up on your back, he’s surprisingly light, probably the nanobots. You drag both him and yourself up the stairs, he’s fucking seven feet tall, so that took a while.

You finally reach the top of those damn stairs and you can hear him “breathing” next to your ear, you can’t deny it…kinda sounds hot. but now is not the time to think about that!

You drag him down the hallway as rain begins to fall outside, you can hear the soft pattering against the window. You then finally reach the bedroom and you (try to) gently lay him down.

His body is covered in black ash and even some scratches and dents, oil is seeping out of those scratches. He obviously needs a bath.

You sigh and hoist him up again, bringing him to the bathroom this time, god why didn’t you think about this earlier? You get to the bathroom which is right across the hall from the bedroom (thankfully) and then sit him down on the ground and undress him, you blush as you take his shoes and pants off, of course you don’t look anywhere you’re not supposed to, you aren’t a creep (right-?), and he’s wearing boxers anyway, you then place him in the bathtub, his nanobots are waterproof so he’d be fine being bathed.

You worriedly look over him again, his eyes are closed and his breathing is still ragged as hell, so you turn on the water, making sure it’s the right temperature and let it fill up the tub.

He’s startled awake by the water and he opens his eyes, trying to get up, you gently lay him back down, “It’s alright. It’s me” you say, “I’m just gonna give you a bath, what happened?”

“…I was doing…an experiment…” he mumbled, “Then the stupid…Star started acting up…made me have a fucking heart-attack…or whatever the animatronic equivalent is” he sighed, “I screwed it up…”

“…well at least you didn’t die” you say, watching the water go a sort of grey-ish color, It was kinda gross but you didn’t mind. He then glanced down at himself and blushed a shade of orange, “…am I naked?” He asked, you blush and stammer a bit, “Well- uh- yes- but I didn’t look I swear!” You said, blushing like crazy, “hmm~? Look at what?” He teased, you squeaked a bit, even when hurt he was still so damn cocky. “I don’t understand” you mumble with a sad-ish expression, he glanced at you, “what?” He asked, “I don’t understand how someone like you could be like this with someone like me” you say quietly, looking down at yourself. He puts a hand under your chin and guides you face up to look at his, his soft gaze meeting your eyes, “Hey. Don’t say that” he said, “You’re beautiful, I don’t care what anyone else thinks, fuck society” you can’t help but chuckle a bit, you gently rub his body with your hands, staying away from the No-no square not wanting to make him uncomfortable, you mainly just touch his back, arms, chest, and head. You wash most of the oil off, then drain the water and help him out, you sit him on a stool and drape a towel around him, the towel is ridiculously large considering his size and you had a bit of trouble carrying it. You gently dry him up, rubbing the towel but being careful not to hurt him. You then take him to the bedroom and grab some bandages from a cabnet, you sit him on a chair and bandage him up, carefully wrapping each bandage around his wounds, his nanobots would heal him. You then let him get dressed in a pair of comfortable clothes, when you turn back around he’s wearing a loose black oversized long-sleeved sweater and a pair of orange sleeping shorts, he actually looks really comfy :D

This was special to both you can him because you knew he’d only wear this laid-back attire around you, he trusted you enough to let loose around you. And that was something wonderful ^w^

You also get dressed in a pair of comfy clothes and lay on the bed, opening up your arms to him. He blushed and came over to you, plopping right down on the bed and snuggling himself right in your arms, he buried his faceplate in your neck, retracting certain rays to not poke you or anything else, you listened to the soothing clicks and whirrs his body made when he did so. You began to gently rub his back in circles and hum a tune as he held on to your waist, wrapping his two large arms around you, you listened to the soft artificial breaths that he took and then…

You heard a sort of…vibration against your neck?

It kind of tickled, but it also came from his chest…was he purring?

The noise repeated as he nuzzled you again, you smiled and blushed knowing that he was only like this with you, it just made you feel so…special.

The soft pattering of the rain outside made it even better, you look down at him to find that he was sound asleep, you sigh and close your eyes as well, letting sleep overcome you…

You really loved him, you really did…

#eclipse x reader #tw hurt #tw blood #chubby reader #tw explosion

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aroha-scape · 10 months

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#words hurt #hurt #hurtquotes #reality #if reality was like #twisted reality #imagination #realisation #love #dream #i love you #hope #i hate my everything #tw abuse #tw hurt #tw trauma #lonely

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h-schafer · 1 year

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The Last Of Us | EP 8.

#tw blood #tw gore #tlou #the last of us #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #bella ramsey #bella ramsey tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #meus #tlou ep 8 #the last of us ep 8 #tw hurt #tlou serie #the last of us serie

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holyshittywritings · 10 months

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the heart grows heavy

bound under clothes,

laughter pinches

yet how so easy to ignore

and grow cold,

lies of rainbow

crush my skin into pieces,

flip pancakes,

apologies don't mean it.

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silver-heller · 1 year

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Danger Hugs

Thank you @floofsselfshipblog for reminding me of that one hug comic and giving me this idea for the Serafine x Mordecai fic lol;

By the time she let go, the breath was taken from Mordecai, and he was left swaying, seeing stars in his vision... “Aw, did I make you weak at the knees?” Serafine asked and Mordecai nodded. “Yes. In fact, I think you rendered half of my organs useless.” ... “Oh, you were serious,” Serafine said, eyeing him with a smirk as he lay there, butt in the air and face planted into the carpet, “Are you gonna need medical attention, bebe?” “No just…give me…a moment.”

#undescribed #cw canon x canon #watchinyoudance💘#humdinger👔#poor mordecai lol #tw hurt #tw bones #getoyou🔥

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peskyduck · 1 year

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@yellowhug taught- “ it wasn’t your fault… ”

Duck frowns. For once he can admit it is. Usually, he'd take the 'get out of jail free card in a heart-beat, but today- he has no fight left today. 'No it is my fault.' Duck huffs, shrinking a little. 'You know it too. Why don't we just-' Pinching the bridge of his beak. 'Say it how it is and move on.'

...

Perhaps if he acted quicker, that teacher wouldn't have hurt either of them... Though teachers always end up hurting their students, right?

#attention freaks its me [ic]#what about him? [Yellow]#yellowhug #tw abuse #tw violence #tw hurt

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manydigits · 2 years

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@forbiddenwoodlands Plotted starter

The Hide-Behind! Finally! Is what Ford would be cheering, if he wasn’t staying absolutely silent to avoid alerting the creature. The beast seems to have picked another to stalk. A tall man. From what Ford can tell the hide behind’s current muse must be over six and half feet tall. He makes the hide behind look a little less intimidating...but only a little.

Finally, Ford is able to study this creature, and perhaps he’ll figure out exactly what happens when the creature catches up to an unsuspecting human being. A few moments pass and it seems as though the Hide-Behind’s goal is to do just that, to hide behind someone. Perhaps its a trickster at heart, a practical-

Thwack!

And like that the creature mercilessly attacks and kills the poor unsuspecting man. His pen falls to the ground. Had he known this was the beast’s intentions, he would have made noise, done anything to prevent this tragedy. As it was...he was too ill-informed.

Ford animates in a mater of seconds! Blasting at it and hollering, though he is too late....

The beast disappears- whirling through the trees with noise aching to that of a rattle snake. Ford rushes to the man and frowns above him. Once again, his quest for knowledge had caused tragedy to strike an innocent. Ford places a six-fingered hand to this man. An apologetic frown. ‘I’m sorry.’ He mutters.

Perhaps he hasn’t really learnt anything at all!

#ic #v;homeland #starter #forbiddenwoodlands #lyell #tw death #tw hurt #tw stalking #tw injury

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unboundprompts · 8 months

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If you’re still doing request, is it OK if you either

Describe writing a panic attack?

Describe someone who has gray eyes?

-> a link for gray eye descriptions: x

How to Write a Panic Attack

Physical Symptoms of a Panic Attack:

pounding or racing heart

sweating

chills

trembling

difficulty breathing

weakness or dizziness

tingly or numb hands

chest pain

stomach pain or nausea

feeling lightheaded

tense muscles

dry mouth

constriction in the chest

feeling like they're being choked

Other Symptoms:

heightened vigilance for danger and physical symptoms

anxious and irrational thinking

a strong feeling of dread, danger or foreboding

fear of going mad, losing control, or dying

feelings of unreality and detachment from the environment

Triggers for a Panic Attack:

something unexpected (ex: a phone call)

a reminder (objects, smells, locations, specific phrases, etc. that can be tied back to a traumatic experience)

stress (from work, a relationship, family, etc. that has been building up)

silence (ex: being alone in a quiet room. The silence can amplify a sense of isolation)

flashbacks (a trigger that causes the person to flash back to a traumatic memory)

out of nowhere (sometimes panic attacks just get triggered by seemingly nothing)

Writing Prompts:

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

He couldn't breathe. Oh God, he couldn't breathe and he was going to die.

She knew the panic was building up, but it crashed over her like a tsunami that swept her off her feet. The pull threatened to pull her out to sea and it was all-consuming.

They felt the panic begin to wrap its arms around them like a shadow.

"Is it okay if I hold your hand?"

"Don't touch me-- don't touch me!"

Her mind was running at a million miles a second but she couldn't pinpoint a single thought.

"It's okay. You're safe."

An icy hand had reached through their ribcage and was squeezing their heart. They couldn't breathe and they didn't know what to do to regain their breath.

"My chest hurts. It hurts."

"I can't!"

They were a crumpled heap, stowed away in the corner as tears streamed down their face.

She felt like she was on a boat out at sea, the room swaying and adding to the nausea that was washing over her.

He felt like he was having a heart attack.

They gasped for air but each breath felt shallower than the last.

She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, beating like a panicked drum to the rhythm of her fear.

He felt like he was standing on the edge of a building.

They couldn't move. It was like someone was holding down their limbs, the panic rendering them utterly frozen.

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#writing prompts #dialogue prompt #ask box prompts #tw panic attack #prompt list #prompts #how to write a panic attack #panic attack #writing panic attacks #hurt/comfort prompts #whump prompts #whump prompt #whump writing

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yawnderu · 2 months

Text

cr: @ave661

Simon wasn't a stupid man. He always knew better, knew to look between the lines even when you tried your best to be deceiving. Even then, the pure rejection you showed to your newborn baby was something not even the best actress could hide. Refusing to hold her after she was born and fully shutting down on Simon, screaming at him whenever he tried to offer any sort of help and support, only getting worse if he ever tried to approach you while holding the baby.

Post-partum depression is no joke, Simon realized after doing his own research, only then realizing just how bad it can get after accidentally stumbling on article upon article of mothers getting to the point of harming their own child. You weren't like that— Simon liked to convince himself despite the growing pit of dread in his stomach, anxiety seeping out of every pore of his body when even months later you refused to hold or interact with the baby.

It all came crashing down after he came back from deployment, the nanny holding his daughter while soothing her with calm words, doing her best to console the crying infant despite the tears falling down her cheeks when she confessed to him that you're gone.

Gone without a trace, at first. Simon wasted no time using his connections to know where you were. Laswell was the most helpful, giving him all the details of the help center you were in, yet even then, Simon didn't reach out first in fear of messing up your progress, not wanting to add more stress to your situation when you were trying to get better.

Four years. For four years, Simon's life was divided in deployments and taking care of his daughter at home, never once thinking about moving on, always asking Laswell for updates— updates she was glad to give him using her own connections, wanting to give Simon some peace of mind even if it went against the rules.

“It's okay.” Simon reassured his daughter, his long sleeves wet with cola that she spilled from her little cup. His home was the complete opposite of the absolute hell he grew up in, not allowing himself to scream, hit, or take out his frustration on the little carbon copy of himself sitting on the couch.

“'M sorry, daddy.” Her sweet voice made the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile, planting a soft kiss on the top of her head, taking off his sweater and putting it away, wasting no time on grabbing a towel to clean up the now sticky mess of coke on the table.

“It's okay, love. Jus' don't tip it, 's gonna spill.” She gave him a small salute in understanding, a cheeky grin on her lips when she saw him holding in his laughter, knowing fully well she's copying him— as usual.

The doorbell ringing got Simon's full attention, giving his daughter one last look before he went to answer. His eyes widened slightly the moment he saw your shorter figure waiting for him, purposely making yourself smaller like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, a small folder held in your hands. You're both quiet for what seems like forever, the only sounds coming from your daughter in the living room, the TV displaying a kid's show Simon put on.

“I'm so so—” You don't even have the chance to finish your sentence before you're being pulled into a tight hug, Simon's burly arms wrapping around your body, every single second spent missing you, secretly hoping you'd come back one day crashes down on him the moment he feels your arms wrap around his waist, holding him as tight as possible, as if he'd disappear if you don't hold onto him for dear life.

“I got better.” You whisper into his ear, rubbing his back soothingly when he doesn't let go of you. Not yet— not when the love of his life is finally back after years. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder before his face goes back to burying in the crook of your neck, taking in the familiar scent.

It takes minutes for Simon to finally let go, hesitation clear in his actions as he looked down at you, keeping one hand on your waist in silent fear of you seeping through his fingers. The folder in your hand gets his attention, giving you a questioning look before you offer it to him, managing to give him a small smile of reassurance despite all the anxiety and fear.

“My psychotherapist wrote it. It's... just a paper that shows the progress I've made from her perspective.” You stand awkwardly as he reads the document, taking in every single word written by the woman who has been helping your for four long years. You can hear your daughter giggling at the TV show, only making the anxiety in your stomach grow more by the second.

To your surprise, Simon steps out of the way to allow you into the home he created, his safe haven. Nothing changed from the last time you were here, other than toys scattered all over the place, likely from Simon being too busy bonding with his daughter to even clean.

You can see the little girl sitting on the couch as you walk closer, her brown eyes fully focused on the screen until she hears something from behind her. She's so much bigger now, looking like a tiny carbon copy of Simon, down to the little skull-patterned pajamas she was wearing.

She turns around after seeing you from the corner of her eye, her little face lighting up into a toothy grin as she jumps from the couch, sprinting towards you as fast as her little legs allow her to.

“Mommy!” You crouch down to her height out of pure instinct, almost being knocked off balance when she crashes into you, her tiny arms wrapping around your neck. The fact that Simon never stopped talking about you to her and kept your pictures warms your heart, being as delicate as possible as you hug her back.

“Y'look so pretty.” She has Simon's accent, making you let out a small laugh before looking down at her, cupping her cheek just to examine her features better.

“Thank you, sweet girl.” You're glad for the way she cuddles up to you again, not bothering to hide the tears falling down your cheeks at the sheer love displayed by the same girl you left four years ago. Your gaze drifts up to Simon, whose eyes are glossier than usual despite the fact that he's not shedding a tear. He gives you a small nod in acknowledgement, not daring to look away from the heartwarming scene in front of him.

“Daddy talks a lot about you.” She whispers into your ear, covering her mouth as if she's telling you the biggest secret ever. You giggle at the little gossiper, your warm hand running up and down the length of her hair.

“He does?” You whisper back, giving Simon a cheeky look at the admission, one of his thin eyebrows raising when he sees your daughter nod her head vigorously, giggling as she looks at Simon.

“Well, I'm sure he talks a lot about you too.” The pure forgiveness that comes from both of them drowns the guilt, if only for a short while.

“You're such a pretty princess.” Your arms wrap around her again, rocking her softly from side to side, allowing yourself to take in their love. It doesn't take long for Simon's resolve to falter, dropping to his knees and wrapping his burly arms around his girls protectively, planting a little kiss on your forehead.

Despite everything, there's no one else he'd rather spend the rest of his life with.

Dad!Ghost Masterlist

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