Soft things and comfort characters

✎ who do i write for? (some not currently) ~

baldurs gate 3 - astarion

the amazing digital circus - jax x reader and jax x pomni

the rookie - tim bradford

the walking dead - daryl dixon

doctor who - the tenth doctor

supernatural - dean, destiel

stranger things - billy hargrove

Marvel - deadpool and wolverine

⋆｡°✩ Ი𐑼(little jax ears aww) ⋆ ✮⋆˙

Pomni pushes the curtain of blankets aside and cautiously steps into the giant pillow fort. She glances around in the dark before conjuring a small, dim candle into her hand. These past few weeks she’d been practicing many things. One of those things had been on conjuring all kinds of items. She had worked with Kinger in her free time. One of the things she had thought into existence was a book on playing ‘piano for dummies’… the second thing was a piano.

“I didn’t know you played piano”

“I only know like two songs”

Those words had bounced around her head for days after losing Jax. Zooble, Gangle, and Ragatha had all attempted to learn more about the abstractions now that they were being taken care of. One thing they all knew was that they still held onto faint memories of the things they used to love. They had shown positive reactions to certain things, like how Ribbit’s sharp edges smoothed out to round curves when Ragatha held out a hot cup of cocoa to her just last week.

Pomni had decided to try something with Jax. He had spent his days as an abstraction swimming in the large underwater aquarium they had built for all of the abstractions, but at the end of each day, he seemed to separate himself from the others, often growing in size and sharpness, every eye getting a bit spastic if one of the others swam too close. He had good days, and he had bad days. On the bad ones, Pomni noticed that he preferred to spend time alone in the giant pillow fort. Today was one of those days.

“Jax?” She steps softly into the darkness, her candle so dim that she could only see her hand if it were just inches from her face. “It’s me, Pomni” She whispers.

As she continues forward, she hears a soft rustling just ahead. Then, as if a beacon in the darkest night, an eye appears, then another, and another, until there are many colorful eyes staring sleepily in her direction, blinking in unison.

She lets a soft, sorry smile fall upon her face, “Hey Jax” She says softly.

A soft rumble emits from him, his eyes focusing on the candle in her hand.

“Oh- Sorry… Here” She cups her hand around the flame and watches as he relaxes. She makes her way past him toward the piano at the other side of the fort.

Jax moves, following her with a hard gaze.

“I’ve been learning how to play. I conjured a book on playing the piano after you…” Her voice fades away as memories from that night play over as if they were happening all over again in real time.

Jax, or the void of eyes that he now was, moves closer. As if her words actually got through to him somehow.

“So, don’t judge okay?” She scoffs lightly, “Who am i kidding, it’s you we’re talking about, you’re probably laughing you ass off right now” She smiles weakly and turns to look at him.

He sits on a pile of pillows, ‘head’ crooked to one side slightly.

“I miss your insults, you know. I never thought I’d say that” She whispers before turning toward the piano.

Ragatha had told her to never turn her back on the abstracted ones, just until they understood their intentions more, but Pomni… trusted him, as stupid as that was.

Pomni clears her throat and cracks her fingers, she reaches up to press a key, getting herself tuned to the piano once more. “It’s the song you were playing that day” she says before beginning.

Jax stands there for a long while before settling down onto the pillows. Pomni glances back at him from time to time, noting how he was relaxing bit by bit as she continued to play.

After twenty minutes or so passes, she pushes herself from the seat and turns. Jax is curled up on the pile of pillows, every eye shut, his body rising up and down in calm breaths. Was he asleep?

“You like this huh?” She chuckles, smile fading slightly as she approaches him slowly.

Her arm extends to him, reaching for his flank, or where she assumed his shoulder was in this form.

Suddenly, eyes shoot open, color filling the dark space as they all center in on her.

“I-Sorry” Pomni pulls away, but when Jax doesn’t make a move, she hesitates.

His eyes relax, but remain guarded as they fall to her hand, still stuck in place between them.

“Do you mind…?”

Jax does nothing, and she takes the chance.

Gently, she reaches out and places a hand on his head. It doesn’t hurt like it did the day she held onto him for so long. Could they control that? She wondered, it was something worth telling the others. If they could be touched, maybe it would restore some of their humanity.

At the moment her hand made contact with him, his entire self relaxed.

Pomni smiles, tears threatening to fall from her eyes as she watches his shut with a comforting softness as she pets his head. “Oh, Jax” She whispers, a sad smile on her face as she continues petting.

A moment passes and she swears his shape has slowly taken the form of a rabbit sitting on all fours, ears begin to extend from his head and her eyes widen.

“Hi” She whispers, a tear sliding down her face.

Jax pushes his head into her hand further.

“I miss you too” Pomni says.

—

I MISS MY SWEET BOY SO MUCH HOLY SHITTTTT

HE WAS SO CUTE CURLED UP IN THE ENDING WHILE POMNI SAT THERE WITH HIM OMG!!!! 💔😭

HE’S EEPY!! 🩷🎀

The wood of the abandoned worship site groans under the breath of night. Bats hang from the curves of the stone windows as they prepare to hunt. Crickets speak in their rheumatic language while a barn owl sits atop a tall oak tree, patiently waiting as the church mice decide whether they should risk their life for a meal of berries.

Astarion finds himself in one of the large stone windows. The night air stagnant and wet against his pale, clammy skin. Small beads of sweat form at his hairline. Who knew bears were so resilient.

He once sat in a window quite similar to this one on the night of the symbol carving. Cold blood ran down his undead body, staining the white shirt he had wore that night. He brings a hand up to his face and pulls it downward, pressing hard enough to rub the sleep from his battle-drawn face. Dried blood flakes off instead.

He was a walking anomaly with this worm in his head. In the last months he had washed his hands beneath cool, running water, stepped into a strangers home uninvited, and best of all, he had felt the sun’s warmth for the first time in decades. Cazador would be furious at the sight of a mere spawn granted what he desired most.

Astarion clamps his eyes shut at the thought of his tormentor. Gods he was pathetic.

Soft squeaking stirs him from his thoughts and he whirls just in time to see the bats fly off as a figure passes their window. Once in the light of the moon, the figure reveals itself to be Tav.

Her hair was a disheveled mess that resembled that of a birds nest and her eyes seemed battle heavy and full of warded off sleep. In this light, Astarion might think that she was rather… well, pretty.

No, perhaps that was the bear’s blood talking, he had quite too much after all.

“Astarion?” Her voice, much like silken sheets against cool skin, soothed a part of him that raged deep within his soul.

“Tav” he purrs back.

The window, luckily, or unluckily, he hadn’t decided, was wide enough to fit the two of them snugly beside one another, this was proven as she squeezed herself into the empty spot next to him.

Just then, Tav’s eyes widen, “Oh- Gods! Where did that blood come from!?”

Right. He hadn’t yet cleaned the bear’s blood from his hands, or mouth… or shirt.

He isn’t overly amused or enthusiastic as he says “Yes well, I have to eat too you know” He was rather disgusted with himself tonight and there was a certain lack of desire to hide that right now.

“Ah, yes the whole vampirism thing, You should have said something, if you were that famished, well i’d have helped” She says, eyeing him intently.

Astarion’s eyes flick to hers at these words. “What? You? A druid? Help me kill and drink an entire bear? What would the great and mighty Halsin think of you slaying his own kind?”

Suddenly, a god awful sound erupts from her as she slaps a hand to her mouth and he’s so taken aback, that he’s almost too late to realize she’s nearly thrown herself off the window ledge from laughter.

“I forgot about that fight at the goblin camp” She giggles.

Astarion’s brows furrow, it was hardly funny, only the truth.

She finally gathers herself, clearing her throat before speaking, “No, you’re right about me having no part in killing a bear, not that i wouldn’t hesitate if you were really that starved… but giving the state of you, well, i’m sure you’re quite full now” She smiles softly and her eyes drift down to his chin where blood still sits.

He suddenly feels a bit self conscious and dips his head slightly.

“I know i was hesitant about sharing my blood, but i’ve grown to know you much better since you first asked, one could even say I trust you” Her cheeks flush a pale pink, proving just how alive she is, a pang of hunger rises within him despite how much bear blood he had drunk.

He can’t help but let his eyes wander about her face as she speaks, he notices how her freckles almost look like stars in the moonlight, how her eyes, while forest green during the day, seem more like two emerald pools tonight, had they always been this enchanting?

She nervously continues to babble about, “So, if you’re ever that hungry, come and ask”

Astarion feels himself leaning closer before he’s able to stop. The tendons in her neck bulge out as she tenses from his sudden movement.

“Astarion?” Her hand slowly reaches toward him, reaching his shoulder it stops, holding him at half an arms distance.

“Bear is… filling” He moves so his hand rests on the wall just behind her head. “It puts me in a drunken state of contentment” He pushes himself up on a knee, staring down at her.

“But does it sate your hunger?” She whispers, her eyes wide as she stares up at him.

His knee is between her legs, his left hand at the ledge by her hip, and his right hand still pressing harder into the stone behind her head. He lowers himself enough so that his lips brush against her neck; like a painter who has never touched a canvas before. He can feel her heartbeat pulsating against his lip and a soft groan escapes him. She shutters beneath the sound, a breath exhales from her.

This was not inherently sexual for him. It was intimate in the way that feeding someone by spoon was intimate. Soft, caring, she was merely providing her neck and blood to him for nourishment. No, it was not sexual, it was more than that.

Astarion leans back, his eyes fluttering open to meet her own. As if she understood the gesture, she nodded, giving him the okay to sink his teeth into her soft, freckled skin.

First, his lips made contact once more. He inhales her scent; lilac, honey and sweetened, nervous sweat. That was a part of what made blood taste so good. Combining the creatures scent with the warmth that seeped from the veins was a high far better than any animal could offer.

Pulling back for a moment, he whispered, “You smell absolutely divine”

Her only response was exposing her neck to him further. He smirked at this.

Parting his lips, her neck entered his mouth so gently, gentler than any animal or creature had ever known Astarion’s mouth to be before. The tips of his teeth began to poke her neck, causing her to stir slightly under him and then, he squeezed his jaw firmly, both fangs popped into her delicate skin, a soft whimper left her as he drew back.

“I wouldn’t have this much control… if it weren’t for the meal i had earlier. Usually, it’s hard for me to stop myself” He said between heavy breathing.

He lowered himself once more to drink from her, licking the small trickle of blood that had escaped.

“So you’re saying i shouldn’t get used to this gentleness?” She asks rather breathless herself.

Astarion simply chuckled into her neck, licking and suckling her tender wound, letting content little sounds escape him as he drank. He was so full, but Gods, she was his first, he didn’t care if he remained drunk off of her for days to come.

“You taste absolutely exquisite, Darling”

As he drank from her and her eyes grew heavy from a significant loss of blood, she watched from the window ledge as the barn owl swooped from its perch, finally catching a little mouse in its talons before bounding toward the sky once more.

Fawnsy brushes a plush hoof over her dress, smoothing out the wrinkles from sitting on the blanket too long. She glances up at Jax who walks next to her in silence. It is not a thick, heavy silence, not the kind that Ragatha once described she had felt when she had been paired with Jax during an adventure; no, it was the kind that sat neatly and softly between two friends, or whatever they were these days.

Caine had thrown them into a hiking adventure today. Zooble and Gangle had convinced him, though Fawnsy knew that Caine most likely did this to get everyone on his good side. Even he, an AI, knew that they had all started to resent him. Fawnsy almost felt bad. Almost.

“This is stupid”

Fawnsy eyes Jax, “You think every adventure is stupid”

Jax snorts, “I liked the one where I got to shove you and Pomni into the river”

Fawnsy shrugs, “You would like that one”

Jax chuckles and then falls quiet.

“What?”

For a moment as his eyes lay on her, they soften, but only for a moment, because once he realizes she’s staring back into them, he shakes his head and a hardness, a wall, falls over him. “Nothin’”.

She hates when he deflects and shuts down, but she’s had too much experience with people like this to let it bother her much anymore. So she shrugs.

Jax huffs and his shoulders fall slightly. “Fine”.

Got him.

“Why don’t you ever smile? I mean, i see you grin with Pomni and Ribbit, but how come you never… I dunno, smile?” He mimics the type of smile he means by flashing her an exaggerated toothy grin.

Fawnsy chuckles, kicking a rock beneath her hoof as they stroll down the poorly traced dirt path.

“I… Just don’t like my teeth” She admits.

Jax frowns. “Cmon, fluff n stuff—“

Fawnsy rolls her eyes at the nickname he’s used on her too many times to count by now.

“Do you even have teeth? You’re a stuffed toy”

“I do, they’re just… plastic” She turns her head from him and clicks her teeth together.

“Hear em’?”

Jax looks genuinely intrigued now, his eyes wonder over her sun kissed, spotted face with some sort of amusement.

“Alright, then why do you hate them?” He asks, suddenly sounding bored.

“They’re… not exactly flattering to my face, or body, or… general existence” She stammers.

“What, are they yellow and gross?” He laughs.

“Pfft, no, but yours are!”

And just like that, without intending to, her mouth widens into her laugh, and two off white fang-like teeth escape through.

Jax’s eyes widen slightly, her teeth are more like sharp canine fangs, resembling that of a wolf’s.

Fawnsy slams a hoof to her mouth.

“Oh shit” Jax murmurs.

“Sorry-“

“No, no uh- don’t be” He says, not a trace of a joke or snide comment on his tongue.

Fawnsy now understands what Ragatha meant by the heavy, thick silence she had felt as it settles between them.

“So, now you understand why i don’t crack a wide grin every chance i get”

“No i don’t really get it, i mean, what’s so bad about that?”

Fawnsy shrugs, “I guess i sort of feel like i’m turned inside out by my appearance. I was so shy, back… there, in the real world”

Jax seems to flinch at the mention of real life, and she chooses her next words carefully.

“I was so soft and shy, but i had such a bad temper, at times i felt like the people in my life who chose to stay were so damn stupid for it”

Jax stays quiet.

“It feels like those qualities are now just, thrown out there for all to see every time i — exist.”

For a moment, Jax has that same soft, sympathetic look in his eyes as he glances her way.

She stares back, hopeful for what he’s about to say.

Jax glances over his shoulder, almost as if he’s making sure no one’s around before he says, “They’re not scary to me”

౨ৎ Baby - Tim uses the name baby for her like it's her actual name.

She gets home from work, the door closing gently behind her in case Tim is slumped over on the couch waiting for her like he is most nights after one of his long shifts. Still, he's a cop and hardly any sound gets past him, asleep or not. He looks up and she cringes, scolding herself for not entering more gently. "Mhhm... Hey baby, work go okay?" he asks, clearly trying to hide the fact that he was just napping. Bonus points because he has the evidence written all over his face; sleepy eyes and a not so subtle indent of a sleeve marking on his cheek.

౨ৎ Sweetheart - This one usually comes out when he's worried or she is having a bad day. He also might use this when he's feeling extra affectionate.

"C'mere Sweetheart" His arms are open and he has that extra soft expression on his face, the one that he saves for your eyes only. No one has seen a softer man than that of Tim Bradford in comfort mode toward his baby girl.

She comes to the station to drop off his favorite take out while he's on an all-nighter, he looks up and his eyes instantly go soft and he says something like "Aw, what a sweetheart" With exaggerated affection and a playful grin, but she knows it hit him right in his feels. He doesn't think he deserves you.

౨ৎ Sweet girl - He'd use this pet name when she is doing something he finds particularly cute.

"You're a sweet girl, you know that don't you?"

The shift had started like any other. Miles had done decent throughout the day and had been progressing well with his training. Tim found himself wondering how Lucy was handling Seth. He knew that right now, Luce was upset that Tamara and Seth were getting too friendly. Tim had offered to “put the fear of Bradford” In Seth, but Lucy courageously turned the offer down. She wanted to handle this herself, and Tim respected that.

“So, wait- do you like hot sauce or…”

Tim glares at Miles, and the rookie quickly second-guesses himself further. Taking the sandwich, he went back to the lady to have it changed. Tim shakes his head; he didn’t care, he liked either option… but he wouldn’t tell Miles that.

“7-Adam-100, we have a domestic dispute on Charleston Street near your location.”

Tim snatches his radio up and calls for Miles.

“7-Adam-100 responding attach us to that call, dispatch,” Tim radios in, grabbing the sandwich from Miles before jogging towards the shop.

“Did that say domestic dispute?” Miles asks as he hops into the passenger seat.

Tim knew how Miles felt about this type of call. It was only last week that they received a call like this one at a women’s shelter. Tim had made a mental note about that. He needed to know what made his rookie tick and what set him off or on edge.

“Yeah, boot, so keep a level head and check the details through Dispatch.”

Miles nods and starts to read. His eyes grow more worried with every word he takes in, and he looks up, a panicked look in his gaze as he stares Tim down.

“Can you drive any faster?” he asks.

Tim frowns, but instinctively he presses his foot a little harder into the pedal, and the shop engine groans with effort as they speed toward the incident.

“What did it say?” Tim asks, glancing over at Miles before quickly returning his eyes to the road.

Miles sighs, shaking his head. “Says the caller was crying about her husband beating on her kid, man. He throws his hands up in frustration. “Who does that?”

Tim’s eyes flick towards Miles before pulling away just as fast a second later. He knew the type of man it took to hit a kid. He knew that all too well. His heart beat a little faster than it should have been.

When they pull up to the residency, Tim is shockingly the first one out of the shop. Miles is out only a millisecond behind, and they approach the house together. As they grow nearer, they hear a shriek and glass shattering. Tim breaks into a run, and Miles follows in unison. Their hands are hovering over their weapon as they enter the home.

“Police! We’re coming in” Tim calls out, but his voice goes unheard under the cries of a child and mother.

“Henry stop!” The woman cries.

“No Joyce! He has to learn that I don’t tolerate being disrespected in this house. His mother learned that just fine didn’t she?” He asks her, it sounds more like a threat than a question and Tim nearly tackles the bastard right there.

Tim holds his gun up, his finger resting off the trigger. “Sir put the belt down and put your hands up, now!”

Miles is by the child’s side in seconds pulling him away from beneath his father. He takes the boy to his mother and guides them to the kitchen.

Henry turns to face Tim, the belt still tightly gripped in his hand. He has a cruel smile plastered on his face that looks hauntingly like how Tim’s own father used to look when he’d get in a mood like this.

“Put the belt down and your hands up” Tim demands again.

Henry laughs, his eyes piercing Tim like a knife. “Or what man? You look like the type, turn off your camera and come fight me like a man,” He says, the belt still tightly gripped in his hand.

The knife in Tim’s heart feels as if it were being twisted. What the hell did he mean by “he looked like the type”? Tim shakes his head. “Not going to happen, now get on your knees before I make you.”

Henry finally loosens his grip on the belt, and a moment later, it falls to the floor next to him.

“You need help in there?” Miles calls from the other room.

Tim shakes his head, “Nah.”

Tim steps forward, his gun still aimed at the lowlife in front of him. “You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law, you have the right to a lawyer” Tim spits out the speech he’s said so many times that he could recite it in his sleep and shoves Henry down into the floor, cuffing him and patting him down for any other weapons. He found a pocketknife in his left boot and a switchblade in his pants pocket. What an asshole.

On the ride back to the station and the remaining hours of their shift, Tim was quiet. Only speaking when Miles needed guidance or asked a question that Tim couldn’t avoid. He even had Miles book the criminals while he stood back, thinking.

After his shift, Tim clocked out and headed towards the parking lot. His shoulders ached from the long hours, only tonight they were more sore than usual. He had noted to himself that he was tense after the domestic call today and that tomorrow would be a regular day. Usually, a case like today’s wouldn’t shake him one bit; he had gotten good at shoving his childhood down so far into his subconscious that he was practically numb to those types of calls now, but that was before he’d made himself go to therapy. He knew he had issues to fix if he ever wanted to make things up with Lucy, but he wasn’t prepared to have any feelings that he had tried so hard to bury, unearthed in the process.

When Tim reaches the front desk, he’s ready to collapse. Just drive home, then you can let go, he tells himself. Just as he rounds the corner, his heart lurches a little. He nearly knocks Lucy over.

“Oh- Tim, I’m sorry,” She stammers, looking up at him with a crooked, awkward smile plastered on her face.

He hated how awkward it was between them, hated that he was the one to cause it all.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going and- “

“Are you alright?” Lucy asks, frowning up at him with those eyes. Those damn eyes that were somehow still so beautiful in this shitty lobby lighting. He hated how well she read him, hated that he loved how cared for he felt when she could sort him out before he had the chance to hide anything.

For a moment, Tim wants to say yes. He wants to pretend like nothing is wrong, like today didn’t suck, like staring at her right now while she’s giving him that look doesn’t rip his heart into pieces, but then all his self-improvement work would be for nothing. So, he shakes his head.

Lucy eyes him for a second more, worry filling her gaze. “What’s happened?”

Tim runs a hand down his face and exhales sharply. “There was this one call today, this jerk that beat his kid and wife.” He lets his eyes wander as he uncomfortably as he searches for what to say next, but Lucy speaks before he can fumble around any longer, and he sends silent praises to whoever is looking out for him.

“Oh, Tim, I can’t imagine how hard that was for you,” she says softly.

Tim is about to shake his head and deny how badly it affected him when he catches her gaze. The way her eyes soften when she looks up at him, the way she speaks to him as if he’s worthy of her comfort and concern now, after all he’s put her through, and that just about does him in.

His eyes glisten and burn with small tears, and in an instant, Lucy is pulling him down into her embrace. “C’mere” she hums as she holds him tightly.

Tim leans into her; he’s sure the weight of his existence is enough to crush her every time they hug this way. He’s so much taller. He closes his eyes and breathes in. Her scent washes over him, and in an instant, he is brought back to the best months of his life.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” She mumbles into his neck, and the feeling of her voice vibrating against him is enough to send shivers through his body.

“It’s part of the job. Today just wasn’t my day,” He shrugs.

Lucy must have realized how long she’d been holding him, because she let go and a soft pink color her cheeks as she took a step back from him. “You usually don’t let things like this bother you. Why was today different?” She dares to ask.

“Well, when you spend an hour every week talking about your problems, something’s bound to come up.” He chuckles weakly.

Lucy stares into his eyes, then she looks away. He hopes she sees how much work he’s doing for her, for him, for them. He hopes she-

“Well, I’m here for you, okay?” She reaches up and places her hand on his arm, giving a gentle squeeze before letting it fall back to her side.

“I know,” He smiles down at her.

“Well, I’ll… See you tomorrow,” she says, heading towards the exit doors.

TADC (the amazing digital circus)

The aftermath | The aftermath of the argument between Jax and Pomni (can be read from reader or pomni perspective)

Fangs | Fawnsy (my oc) and Jax drabble <3

Hi, Jax | Spoilers for ep 9! Will write description after youtube release

The Rookie

Tim Bradford age gap HC’s

Old Memories Die Hard | Tim had childhood memories surface during a call, thankfully someone was there at the end of shift

Pet names Tim would use HC’s

Marvel (Wolverine and DP)

Cuddling Deadpool HC’s

Father figure wolverine HC’s

TLOU (The last of us)

Dad | Reader sleepily calls Joel ‘dad’ for the first time.

After the show, she found it hard to go back to her room like everything was fine. It wasn’t. Nothing was. Her and Jax had done well during today’s game or adventure, although it wasn’t really either. Their team had won and in the moment of excitement, she had crashed into Jax, wrapping her arms around his thin frame so tightly she thought she’d be able to go ‘round another time.

That’s when it all took a turn. Jax shoved her off, not immediately, but after a moment. A single moment where maybe, just maybe, he didn’t hate her touch. Her eyes had flashed with a mix of fear and confusion as she stumbled awkwardly away from him.

They had argued, it had lasted far too long for her comfort and parts of the conversation kept creeping into her mind. The way Jax kept staring at the hand that he had shoved her away with, how quickly his emotions went from anger to fear to guilt and repeated.

When the show started, she had glanced back at Jax where he sat at the back of the theater. His arms crossed over himself and a scowl on his face as he watched Caine blab on and on about the awards carelessly. Then later when she checked again, Jax had disappeared.

Now, she paced her room. Wondering what she’d say if she gave in and walked to his. Would he even want her there? Would he yell and refuse her entry? Her mind raced and she began to feel shaky.

Cmon, snap out of it.

She shook her head and decided. She’d go to his door and if she still had doubts she’d just go to bed.

As she approaches Jax’s bedroom, she hesitates, her hand hovering above the doorknob.

Maybe this is a bad idea…

Just as she’s about to turn away, she hears a sound. A small, faint, muffled sound, but a sound nonetheless. She leans quietly against the door to hear better.

A sniffle, then another, followed by quiet mumbling.

Was Jax… crying?

“Hey uh, Jax?”

Everything falls quiet when she speaks and for a moment she can hear rustling around before he speaks.

“What is it? Go away, i’m trying to get my beauty sleep. Not that i need it”

She frowns. Was he just going to pretend nothing happened?

“Jax I-I’m sorry about earlier I just wanted to talk and-“

“Goodnight!” He calls from inside.

She scoffs, only slightly offended by how dismissive he was being. For a moment, she actually contemplates leaving. Maybe if they slept on it things would be… better.

Better. That word felt hollow. Nothing felt better anymore. As the days went on, she wondered if it ever would.

She sighs. She wasn’t giving up on him this easily. Sliding down with her back against his door, she makes herself comfortable.

“Didn’t you hear me?!” Jax groans. “I said go!”

She doesn’t say anything. She stays put. After a moment, she hears an exaggerated sigh and heavy footsteps. A second later, the door thuds and she knows he’s come to sit on the opposite side.

They sit back to back.

“What do you want?”

Her heart begins to beat faster. Not only is Jax giving in, his words are coming out laced with exhausted, with not a trace of the Jax the circus knew.

She waits for a moment suddenly unsure of what to say.

"I saw you leave during the show... What happened?"

Silence.

"Jax?"

"Ever heard of a bathroom break?" He mumbles with sudden sarcasm.

"You looked upset... That's all" She says.

For another long moment Jax says nothing. He was probably contemplating how much he should reveal to her.

He shuffles, likely uncomfortable on the floor. Then a heavy sigh escapes him. Like he's searching for the will to speak.

"Look... I'm sorry about earlier. I might have been out of line bringing up the abstractions but I just..."

Jax clears his throat. "Yeah well, what's the point? It'll happen to all of us one day".

"Don't say that... I just thought maybe if i knew how you felt about me... If i annoy you so much that you can't even consider us friends then-"

"You don't- annoy me okay?"

He sounded annoyed...

Her eyes fall to the floor. "Then... when I hugged you, why did you push me away?"

He doesn't answer.

"Okay... Goodnight Jax".

She pushes herself off the floor and brushes herself off. Maybe tomorrow things would be different. For now though, she couldn't get anywhere with him.

Just when she's about to turn, she hesitates. She brings her hand up to the door and presses her palm into it.

"I'm always here" she whispers. "I know the others think you're really this... mean and harsh guy but, I see you Jax" She weakly smiles.

"Goodnight" She finishes, reluctantly her hand slides away from the door and she pads back down the hall toward her own room.

Inside Jax's room, he remains sat at the door. His back tightly pressed against it as he stares off into nothingness. His eyes just small black specks drowning in two yellow pools.

"I see you"

Those words both comforted Jax and terrified him. He remains there for the rest of the night, unable to pry himself away from the place that he discovered someone truly cared about him.

She sighs and lays her phone down. It was dryer than ever. Not a single text from her remaining family or friends. Her eyes trace shapes into the ceiling until they begin to droop sleepily.

She enjoyed living with Dean, the oldest Winchester brother was fun, a bit grumpy, but fun (sometimes).

After her mother and father disappeared in an accident that had more questions unanswered than answered, leading Dean and Sam to investigate it, she had taken a liking to the unruly pair of men. She had been staying with them ever since. They had bonded over the time they spent solving her missing parent’s case.

Just as she’s about to drift off, her phone goes off, jolting her awake. Her eyes focus on the ceiling once more before she huffs herself onto her side.

She taps the screen and reads:

10:46 pm

Dean (aka my fav idiot) iMessage

Smiling at his name on her screen, the sleep trickles from her and she unlocks her phone.

10:46pm ~ Hey kiddo, won’t be home for a little while longer. Cas saw this late night magic show? I don’t know, anyways pizza still a go for tonight?

Letting out an airy chuckle, she types back

10:47pm ~ Yes on the pizza, and don’t let Cas volunteer for the saw trick… Glad you’re having fun :)

She was glad. Life, as of late, had slowed down. After losing Cas and getting him back all in a 6 month time period, Sam and Dean had both decided it was best to try their darnedest to leave hunting behind. She was proud of them.

A few minutes passed before her phone sounded again.

10:51pm

10:52pm ~ Almost there. Damn my feet hurt

She snorted at the bad selfie he had sent. A smile crawling on her face as she quickly saves it to her phone.

10:53pm ~ You’re hilarious… and tipsy? Have you had anything to drink?

She hits send and waits. Dean hadn’t drank as much lately. She assumed it was because he actually felt relaxed enough on his own, without the help of a cold one… or 7.

10:56pm ~ A little. Don’t worry, there’s no way i’m letting Cas drive my baby back… so i can’t drink anymore anyway.

౨ৎ She’s 24, he’s 40. At first people are skeptical, but it doesn’t bother either of them.

౨ৎ Tim is the type of man that automatically treats his woman like a princess, but having someone this much younger than him brings out a whole new side to the princess treatment.

౨ৎ Many women her age find football to be boring, but she thrives on game nights. The TV is on, Tim is relaxing after a long shift, a beer in his hand.

౨ৎ She usually sits next to him or in his lap, his hand rests gently on her back, only lifting when his favorite team either scores, or fumbles horribly.

౨ৎ While she enjoys seeing Tim partake in his hobbies, he feels the same about her.

౨ৎ He will often give her his credit card during shopping sprees.

౨ৎ Tim even goes as far as accompanying her on mall trips, pointing out which clothes he’d particularly like to see her in ;)

౨ৎ He lets her hold his hand the whole way, and while he adores having her in his arms all the time, a part of the reason comes from his job. He wants to be sure he’s able to guide her out of danger if necessary.

౨ৎ Speaking of guidance, he often has his hand on the small of her back, especially while wading through large crowds.

౨ৎ He lets her hold the loose end of his sleeve or his thumb. His hands are much larger and it proves to be much more comfortable (bonus points because it makes her feel smaller and safer)

౨ৎ Pet names include Sweetheart, babe, sweet face, (baby when he’s comforting her)

౨ৎ “Shh… Shhh baby, I got you… i’m here” with a kiss on the forehead.

౨ৎ He is huge on reassurance, but will always say it how it is. He’s just a bit softer with his delivery when it comes to her.

౨ৎ Once you’re in with Tim, you’re in. If this man cares about you then you are as safe as you will ever be.

౨ৎ He is the jealous type, but it isn’t angry or outwardly cast towards her. He simply becomes protective, but never controlling. He often won’t show his jealousy, or at least he’ll try to conceal it.

౨ৎ If they’re out together and another man eyes her too closely, Tim will find a way to make his badge all the more noticeable.

౨ৎ If he gets hurt while patrolling, he’ll try to play it off as nothing, but when her eyes turn worried and soft, his heart tugs. He adores being adored. He’s a lover boy whether he admits to it or not.

౨ৎ He takes care of his girl, and anyone who sees them knows how lucky they both are to have one another.

"We really dont have time for this"

Dean grumbled as he followed behind her. They both waded through the crowded mall. They were on a case right now and while Sam played FBI elsewhere, Dean was here, in a mall, with her. He hated places like this. They always smelled like bad B.O and greasy food, even too greasy for Dean, which said a lot.

"It won't take but ten minutes" She begs, tugging him through the last bit of bustle before they arrive at the build a bear shop.

It was at the end of the mall and to the left and even though it was a popular store, it wasn't as full as some of the other stores in this corner.

"What the hell is a 'build a bear' anyway?" Dean asks, eyeing the carton bear on the sign above the door. It gave him the creeps.

She rolls her eyes, she was 22 now, but she'd always love stuffies and those alike. She was a child at heart, and she knew deep down, Dean was too. It's why they were so close.

"You... build a bear?" She looks back at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Ha Ha very funny, I figured that but why are we here?" He presses.

She sighs. "Just- I-..." She stammers and her eyes fall to the floor, then look past Dean as if she's trying not to get flustered.

Dean leans his head forward and raises a brow in question as she fumbles over her words.

"When you and Sam don't bring me along on your hunts... I worry. It gets scary at the bunker alone, especially with the angels at war with one another and the demons just as bad. I worry about you and Sam"

Her words come clear and study now and Dean can tell she really means what she says.

"I hate not knowing if you're alright Dean" She looks up at him now, her eyes big and emotional. "I love you, both of you" She smiles weakly.

Dean's heart tugs at her last words. He loved her too. She was like the annoying, smart, crazy little sister he'd never had. That, or a daughter he'd never have. He cared about her too much to bring her along on most hunts. They were too dangerous and after Charlie... He couldn't risk it, he couldn't risk her.

"I uh, me too kid" Dean says softly. "But... what does that have to do with us... building a bear?" He asks.

She smirks. "I'm glad you asked"

Inside, every color Dean has ever seen overtakes his vision. He glances all about the store, his eyes wandering over all sorts of stuffed animals, all empty and awaiting an owner to stuff and love them. His eyes land on a dog plush, a little golden retriever that reminds him of a dog he wanted as a kid. His heart tugs with emotion, just a little though, just enough to make him pause and take a moment.

She glances back when she notices he's not right behind her.

"Dean?"

Her eyes follow his to the little yellow dog. She walks over to it and picks it up by the head, it's empty body flops out.

"Childhood dog?" she asks.

Dean shakes his head, taking the pup from her. "I wish" A bittersweet smile draws across his face.

"No dogs allowed?"

He shakes his head once more, "Never had a home long enough for us to have a dog" He says.

She eyes the plush for a moment more before taking it towards the center of the room. Dean's eyes follow it for a moment before it disappears behind her, a childlike longing to hold it once more fills him and just as he's about to bury it down, he sees a little boy laugh with excitement as his father lifts him up to reach one of the dogs. Tears wet the corners of his eyes and he blinks them away before turning after her.

As he approaches her, he forces out a laugh. "This place is definitely something. Aren't we a little too old for this?"

She shrugs. "I don't care, I love it" She grins. "See that thing?"

She points to the large spinning thing in the center of the room. It holds lots of stuffing for what Dean can only assume will fill all these stuffed animals. It spins like a cotton candy maker and he remembers a time that John had taken them to a fair in a town they were passing through. He got Dean and Sammy each their own cotton candy.

"Here, go up to that lady there and tell her you want this one" She shoves the dog into his arms and before he can protest, she shoves him forward.

"Hello mister! Welcome to Build a Bear, did you find everything you needed today?" She asks with an overly exaggerated smile.

Dean stands there frozen, his eyes dart from her to the dog in his hands. "I uh- yes"

"Great! Just hand me that little guy and we'll get started.

Once I say go, stand on that button over there and I'll stuff this guy for you!"

Dean stares blankly for a moment before shuffling over to the button. He waits and when she says go, he steps down. He watches as the little golden dog slowly fills into shape.

"And... stop!"

Dean steps off the button.

She points to a bin full of little felt hearts.

"Would you like to give your friend here a heart?" She asks.

Dean looks to the bin full of hearts, his mind almost in autopilot as he glances back to her.

"Uh" He exhales awkwardly. "Yeah, sure" He reaches out and takes a heart.

"Great! Now comes the fun part! Take the heart and hold it to yours" She motions to her heart as she explains.

Dean slowly follows her instruction. He lifts the little felt heart to his own.

"Now rub it against your heart to give it lots of love" She says.

Dean was unsure of how much love he had left in there, but he rubs it against his chest anyways.

"Give it a kiss and hand it to me!"

Dean glances around the shop before rolling his eyes and kissing it quickly so that no one else sees. He hands it over to her and she shoves it into the open back of the plushy.

He watches as the woman shoves the heart into the back, and then ties the dog's seams together perfectly. It was as if she'd done this for years. Hell, maybe she had, he was beginning to see how someone might actually like to work here.

"He's all done!" She smiles and hands him the golden retriever.

Dean eyes it for a moment, his thumb brushes over the chest fluff and he wonders how his childhood might have been changed if he had a real furry friend.

Dean thanks the lady and walks back around the room.

"So? How was it?"

She stands at the opposite corner smiling at him with a wide grin. There was no use in hiding that fact that he enjoyed it now, she already knew.

"It was... something. I had no clue this was a job, I mean, imagine working here all day, it wouldn't be half bad" He says.

She smiles up at him, his eyes spark with something she'd never seen before, something new and yet, very old at the same time. Child like wonder.

"I uh, Thanks for makin' me stop here" He says, looking down at the dog in his hand.

"So... Why a dog?" She asks.

I have major daddy issues (if there’s a chance i can write the ‘grumpy old man and traumatized little girl’ trope, i will) so here are my head canons for Logan as a comfort figure/father figure

🧸ྀི When you are sad, Logan loses all gruffness to him and becomes the ultimate soft dad

🧸ྀི When you have nightmares he is right by your side, soothing you with soft whispers and gentle arms. He holds you close during the aftermath and will often kiss your head throughout.

🧸ྀི If he is out and about and he sees something that reminds him of his girl, he will not hesitate to buy it.

🧸ྀི His favorite thing you do is when you tell him about your day or about your special interests, he adores being important enough to hear it all.

🧸ྀི He wont tell you, but he will check on you every night before bed.

🧸ྀི Logan reads you bedtime stories every night that he is home

🧸ྀི If he is off on a mission, you find it harder to sleep

🧸ྀི He calls you things like Kiddo, Sweetheart, kid, and of course Bub.

🧸ྀི When you are quiet or something is wrong, he is the first to notice.

🧸ྀི If you have trauma, he knows about it and has already located the person or people responsible. He is ready to deal with them, you just have to say the word

🧸ྀི If it was your father who hurt you, Logan is extra careful not to do anything you say that he did.

🧸ྀི He holds you close in his arms when you hug.

🧸ྀི Once during a nightmare while you were trying to calm him and wake him, he accidentally cut you.

🧸ྀི He spent the rest of the night apologizing even though you promised it was alright.

- Wade lacks a softness that at first, was hard on your relationship.

- Being a soft natured person, you found his insensitivity to be very frustrating.

- He always had some caddy, rude, or even downright offensive thing to say, and sometimes even you, his own girlfriend, were a victim to his behavior.

- Cuddling was no exception. It was something that until you, he really didn’t care for.

- After Vanessa, he had returned to his roots: Sex, one night stands, and more sex. It was just easier.

- You reintroduced his softer side to him, it took loads of work, but slowly you saw him blossoming into someone a little better.

- So, how cuddling with Wade (in an established relationship) would go:

- Wade is the one who usually initiates a cuddle sesh.

- He’s usually overly flirty, suggestive, and needy.

- “Cmonnnn work can wait, this can’t” He gestures to all of him.

- His cuddles are warm, he’s bigger than you and his arms feel like shields, protecting you from all harm.

- He’s usually the big spoon, but on special occasions or days when he feels a little less assertive, you take that role.

- He’d sulk over to you, over exaggerating his movements as he slumps into your open arms.

- “I’m so the bottom tonight” He’d mutter. Almost but not quite ruining the wholesome moment.

- He’s unusually sweet when cuddling though, especially if you’re having a bad day.

- He usually notices when you’re having a rough day by judging your response to one of his jokes.

- “Uh oh- someone needs a hugggg” He teases (gently this time). “C’mere baby” He’d hold his arms open, gesturing you closer with a hand wave.

- He holds you so snuggly, you don’t feel like you’re going to fall apart anymore.

- While cuddling, he typically leaves kisses on your forehead, cheeks, or neck… but depending on the mood; other areas.

- After a fight, you often clean him up, taking a warm rag and soapy water and dabbing the bloody cuts and bruises gently.

- He looks at you with the most lovey and gentle expression you’ve ever seen, every time. A soft smile on his face.

- It’s like he can’t believe that he’s found someone so caring and accepting of someone like him.

- Sometimes, in a moment of seriousness, he’ll reach up, grab your wrist, lean into your touch a bit further and say something like “Thank you”

- It always takes you a moment to recover from. When he’s sweet, he’s the sweetest man you’ve ever known.

- Something you’ve developed together that you do every time you cuddle is a forehead touch. You’ll usually fall asleep that way.

The Last Light Inn.

“Sounds painfully tragic if you ask me, the last light? Talk about a lack of optimism” Astarion sneers.

Fae and her newfound friends had been traveling for weeks now, camping in forests, old ruins, and even beneath mushrooms in the Underdark. They were running out of resources by now, they needed this place.

Fae looks back to the elf. “This is good for us, Star. We need to be on our best behavior”

“Oh- Well don’t look at me” Astarion places his hand over his heart in offense.

Fae’s brow lifts. She glances to Gale and Karlach, who are both chattering about the beautiful architecture of the small village before them.

“And who else do you suppose I should be looking at?” She prods.

Tav had always been anxious. From the moment they met, Astarion could see right through her exaggerated kindness and fumbled words.

As a druid, Tav found comfort in knowing that at any given moment, she could wildshape into a form other than herself.

When she felt intimidated, the wolf was her choice. When she felt insecure or sad, a cat was preferred.

Astarion noticed this early on in their journey. After returning to camp from a stressful battle, she’d check on everyone and then disappear.

He once caught a glimpse of a tail slinking onto the forest behind camp. Curious, and well, rather hungry and bored, he followed it.

Upon finding the creature, he was quickly disappointed to discover that it was simply Tav, not a quick ‘after-battle snack’.

A grin crawled across his face and he revealed himself from behind the tree. “Hunting mice, are we?” he cooed.

Tav’s tail shot up, rearing around in fright. Her eyes calmed after a moment. Her head tilted in confusion, almost as if to ask how’d you know?

Astarion simply chuckled. “You may be able to change your appearance, but your eyes are still as emerald as ever.” He sighed. “Too pretty for a feline, don’t you agree?”

Tav simply meowed in response, making her way toward the elf, paws gently pressing against the forest floor, crunching leaves below.

Astarion watched as she made her way closer. He always had a soft spot for cats, for whatever reason that may be… and this wasn’t helping him with his plan to use her for protection.

He sighed, kneeling down and rolling his eyes. “There there” He glanced around before sitting against the tree.

Tav hesitates, but takes this as a sign to proceed. She places a paw onto his leg.

“Come for a cuddle?” He whispers, weakly attempting to hide the growing warmth in his chest, he brings a hand up and hesitantly lays it on her head.

Tav purrs.

Astarion recalls a time not so long ago where she had wildshaped into this form mid battle by accident. The enemy learned one thing that day; never underestimate even the cuddliest of creatures.

“Well, at least you purr for me” He says now.

Tav scoffs the best way a cat can.

Not anyone could say they’ve been buried alive. Even fewer could say that they’d been buried alive for a year. Astarion wondered if anyone else at all could say that. He could. Sometimes he had nightmares of being back in that coffin.

Sometimes it only took the smell of freshly dug dirt, or a stroll past a graveyard to stir the dread deep within. He hated how weak these simple things made him feel.

Earlier today, Tav led them through the graveyard in the lower city. Karlach found her parents gravestones and said a few words to them. Astarion wasn’t sure what he believed, but he could tell she felt the things she spoke.

On their way out, they noticed a freshly filled grave, a pipe stuck from the mound, and Gale was the first to notice the faint cries for help that erupted from it. As Tav dug into the shallow grave, Astarion’s throat tightened, his mouth grew dry, and he fought the urge to look away as the all too familiar feeling crept into him.

“It’s probably nothing, we should just go” He scowled, a glint of desperation flicked across his face.

“Star, if someone’s in there…” She gave him a look, the same look one would give when begging their beloved to keep a stray puppy or kitten, and despite how badly he wanted to be anywhere else right now, a sigh escaped him, and he submitted.

“Go on then, since you need to be everyone’s hero” Astarion grumbled, guilt running through him at the hurt expression that crossed Tav’s face. He meant to speak those words more softly just now.

The shovel soon came into contact with something hard. Surely enough, a coffin. Karlach helped Tav pry the lid open, before it could even open half way, a man shot up, nearly knocking the two back onto their arse. He gasped for air, clenching his chest as panic filled his frantic gaze.

Astarion stayed back while the other’s spoke with the stranger, asking him all sorts of questions and receiving few answers. His mind was elsewhere, it was distant and stuck. He couldn’t help but feel anger. Why hadn’t anyone noticed him? Not once during all those years did anyone come to his rescue, not a single God, not an angel such as his beloved Tav, no one. For a year, he waited, cried, and begged. Screaming as loud as he could until his voice was but a rasp and he swore he could taste blood.

Suddenly, tears were gathered at the corners of his eyes, glistening in the sunlight, they threatened to fall as he looked upon the man they’d saved. The man with a second chance at life so much earlier than Astarion had been given his.

Tav was finally satisfied with the explanation the man gave her as to why he had been buried, and she turned. Astarion watched as the man scurried off into the bustling city, gifted another chance at life. Surely he wouldn’t waste it on getting into squabbles with the higher ups.

“Gods, what an idiot” Tav scoffed, earning nods of agreement from Gale and Karlach.

“Can’t believe the things we run into sometimes” Karlach chuckled.

Astarion remained quiet, and it wasn’t until he felt Tav’s eyes on him that he spoke. He quickly fixed himself, his face fell, his eyes rolled and he spoke.

“Are you quite done saving every sad sop you come across?”

Karlach and Gale laughed and walked on, they were tired and heading back to camp. Astarion began to follow, but Tav stopped him, her hand gently grabbing his arm.

“Star…”

“I’m fine, love” He affirmed, his typical response to her pity. Pulling away from her grip, he takes off in camp’s direction.

-

The sun had begun to set. The smell of Gale’s stew traveled through the air, exciting those who actually ate in camp. Tav sits by the fire, listening as Lae’zel and Shadowheart discuss the gods and other religions. She couldn’t help but smile at their relationship and how it had gone from hate to well… whatever they were now.

As the others in camp chatter and buzz about the day’s adventures, Tav feels a sudden emptiness where someone is missing. Astarion. She stands, brushing herself off as she glances around camp. Her vampire companion was no where to be seen, so she knew where he must be.

“Star?” Tav pushes the flap of his tent open and finds him lying in the dark with only a candle by his side.

She creeps inside, letting the flap close, leaving the sun behind as she settles next to him.

“Talk to me”

Astarion’s eyes flick from the fire to his hand, then back again. “I’m fine”

Tav raises an eyebrow, her disbelief so strong that Astarion can feel it, and he sits up. “That’s not true.”

Astarion shoots her a look, but it falls short when he sees the genuine concern in her eyes. “It’s nothing” He had lost all fight in disguising the discomfort that lie deep in his heart.

Tav sighs and she scoots closer, when he doesn’t scuffle away in disgust, she settles close to him. He was doing it again, shutting down. He did this when things were too much in his head, he locked himself within. It was the only way he knew, the only escape.

“Is this about earlier? That silly man who got himself buried alive?”

He doesn’t move and that answers her question. Tav’s heart breaks. Gods, how she wishes she were around back then, how she wishes she could have found him. She’d have dug him up with her bare hands if that were all she had.

“My sweet, you know i’d have come for you, you know i’d have saved you in a heartbeat”

Astarion’s lips part, anger sparks like a dying fire inside him. “You… You didn’t though” he frowns, eyeing her as guilt sets in, he knows it was impossible, that she didn’t know, and a part of him fears he didn’t deserve to be saved, not then and not now.

His voice wavers as he speaks, “No one did.”

He knew he couldn’t blame Tav for the abandonment, yet a part of him seethed. It clawed at him from the inside. He wondered if she’d ever passed him in the streets of Baldur’s Gate, if she’d have noticed the lifelessness in his eyes as he gazed her hungrily. If she’d have turned and ran from him and his plans to take her into the night, back to Cazador like many others before.

Tav reaches out and places her hand onto his cheek, she rubs her thumb gently underneath his eye, just across his cheekbone.

“You know, some people don’t deserve to be saved”

Her words send an ache through him, the next words she’d speak would surely come with a heaviness. He didn’t either, did he?

“But you? You deserve it most” She hums

With this, he leans into her touch, warmth spreads across his face and into his limbs and he nearly goes weak under her skin. His hand slips around her wrist and he holds her there, taking in her scent, listening as her blood runs through her veins.

“It gets better, i promise” she whispers, pulling him into her arms, she leans back and he lays atop her, his arm around her neck as he hugs into her body.

“You seem so sure” He hums, inhaling deeply from her neck.