aim3d

kae | redacted asmr-centric

[asirentail]

Sam, being from the south and seeing it rain while the sun's out: "Well, the devil's beatin' his wife again."

Darlin', being from Washington state: "I beg your finest fucking pardon?"

[heavensalt]

watching everyone ask for a shaw pack helping anton move in audio the past few days just for erik to send out the audio from hell. and let this be a lesson erik will always betray you

[hundredthousandmillionfaces]

I’m craving early days relationship flashbacks again

Avior and Starlight in the Trap, round 1 (preferably the confession and kiss, extended edition)

Vincent and Lovely shortly after the Adam Incident (and their first kiss since hitting reset on their relationship)

David telling Asher that he can’t come over tonight because he has a date, and Asher immediately running to Milo to gossip

Asher calling David to say that he accidentally shifted in front of Baaabe and while they’re cool with it, he needs help explaining magic to them

Milo and Sweetheart at his place after Milo introduced them to Marie for the first time

Elliott and Sunshine’s first meeting (and maybe the second where Elliott asks how their nightmares have been)

Guy and Honey after facing the wrath of Kayla when they tell her they’re moving into their own flat and she’s gonna have to find somewhere else to stay

Yan!Ivan and his listener encountering each other at the bar

Imp!FL and Imp!Vin’s relationship developing at the Haven despite the best efforts of Imp!Lasko

Just

Gimme

[asirentail]

Darlin' putting some of those dog vest patches on their jacket

[chimckenns]

SUGGESTIVE GUY 🍕

—

Guy grinned.

Honey immediately knew he was up to something.

Especially because he kept giggling before he even said the sentence.

“If you don’t catch this.” He held a piece of gum in his hand. “You have to give me head.”

Honey rolled their eyes. But as always they didn’t reject him, instead getting ready to catch.

“Wait, with my mouth or my hands?”

“Anything! Ready?”

Honey nodded, raising an eyebrow as Guy snickered again.

He raised his arm.

Honey locked their eyes on the gum.

And then…

Guy threw it with overwhelming force out the window.

Honey stood there befuddled.

“Looks like I won.” He beamed, sauntering over to them and pulling them closer with his hands snaking around their waist.

“So…? How do you want to do this?”

Honey was going to kill him.

Maybe with head so mind blowing he can’t even form words with his mouth.

That sounded like a good idea.

Honey smirked.

Time to turn the tables.

[mkaaayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy]

Steve functioning as Corroded Coffin's manajor a while after he starts dating Eddie. He doesn't really mean to start doing it, but after a certain point he just kinda begins to help. Smoothes over disputes. Supplies snacks because god knows they need it between yelling at each other and pouring their souls into their instruments. He figures out their schedules and begins supplying them with practice days that actually make sense. All his knowledge of caring for other people and organizing and being a "team leader" in sports. He puts it all right back into helping his boyfriend's band. At some point he actually puts together their gigs. A good word from someone with the Harringto name, a bit of funds associated with it, and a lot of charm to the owners of bars around town. Steve gladly opens the door for them to be proffessional, and even start getting big. It's a natural decision when he starts managing the band's funds as well. Sure, he never really was interested in putting what his father taught him to use, but being able to track and chart and organize is a great skill now that he's waist deep in managing the band. It shocks him when he overhears the conversation. ("Dude, I get that he's your boyfriend and he's helping out of the good of his heart, but we really should be paying him." "Yeah Ed, and maybe also try not to break his heart. Seriously. I don't think I can go back to a life without Harrington brand homemade brownies." "Do you always think with your stomach?" "Do you think at all?" "Guys- Guys calm down!" He hears Eddie laughing "Don't worry, I'm sorting it out. Kinda hard to figure out how to pay someone when they're the one tracking your budget." There's a pause. "And I'd never break his heart. I love him. I'm in for the long haul... it's really only a matter if he is." Steve feels his heart swell at the tone of pure honesty and affection. Yeah, maybe he want's to do this for the rest of his life.)

[asirentail]

"Darlin', there ain't no way in every circle of Hell I'm gonna letcha in the house lookin' like a drowned rat."

The wolf that stood before him was covered in dripping mud and water, a few twigs stuck in the thick fur. Their eyes glared at him, he knew what he'd get told if they could talk like this.

"It's either you shift back and get a fuckin' shower," Sam crossed his arms and stood firm, "or I hose ya off right here, right now. Take your fuckin' pick."

They snarled, which to someone else, it'd look intimidating and threatening. But to him? He knew it's just because his mate wasn't getting their way and they're throwing a little fit about it.

"One way or another, you're gettin' cleaned up because I ain't havin' you trek mud all over the goddamn place."

A low growl, their teeth bared at him.

"Ohhh, so ferocious, darlin'," he snarked back at them, on his way to hook up the hose, "practically quakin' in my damn boots."

Once the hose was hooked up, he went up the steps. Immediately turning and pointing at them, he gave them a look. "Sit."

They did, realized that they did, and the look of disbelief on their wolf face had him snickering.

"That's my darlin'."

As much they hated being told what to do, the praise got their tail lightly thumping against the ground. It really didn't take all that much to get to them, not with him.

He came back with a bottle of their kind of shampoo, figuring it'd work on their fur the way it'd work on their hair.

Getting the hose, he tested the nozzle a couple of times. "C'mon, c'mere." He gestured for them to trot over so he could pluck the twigs from their fur, managing to find a few rocks in the midst of the mess. "What... in the hell did you even get into— is this moss—?"

They huffed a chuff at him, looking rather proud of their accomplishment. They ended up finding a few puddles after it rained last, wallowed around in it, and ended up an absolute mess. As one does when they can shift into a wolf and run around.

Once they were free of debris, he started up the hose again. "It's gonna be cold so it'll take longer to rinse," he ruffled up their fur, "but I'm sure you don't mind, since you're the one wantin' this to begin with instead of takin' the easy route of shiftin' back."

They snorted at him, shaking themself off a little to loosen their fur up. Yeah, it's obvious that this has happened before.

He had to change the nozzle to a stronger setting to start the first soak. Watered down mud dripped down their legs to the ground below, creating a puddle again under them. That could easily be rinsed off later.

It felt like a massage to them, the pressure of it working straight to their muscles. They kept tilting their head around with happy grunts, their tail gently wagging.

The sight, Sam could never get over. They always looked so in their element when they were shifted, as if they were meant to be a wolf instead of having to deal with a human body.

Once they were partially rinsed, he popped the cap open on their shampoo. They looked over at him with narrowed eyes, making him chuckle.

"I ain't gonna waste your damn stuff, I promise," he held his hand up to swear on it, "if I have to, I'll get you some more, sound like a deal?" He started scrubbing it into their fur, "I say again, coulda saved the effort and shifted back, y'know."

They turned their head away with a huff. Yeah, he figured as much.

As much as they liked the hose, this had to be better. They so wanted to shake but they decided to be nice and let him massage the shampoo into their fur.

Darlin' nearly swayed standing there from how relaxing it felt. It's one thing that they can nearly fall asleep from a head massage, but in this form? It takes more effort to try and stay awake than to give in.

Sam had to rinse his hands off, shaking the excess water off, "A'ight, ready?"

They pattered around impatiently. Yep. They were ready.

With a light snort and an eye roll, he held the trigger down to start power washing them off, his other hand ruffling their fur up to really get down to rinse suds off. It got to the point that he had to bump the setting up to a stronger one to get down to skin so it wouldn't leave residue in.

"And if you shake as soon as soon as I turn this off," he warned, leaning over to give them a look in the eye. If they weren't in this form, he knew they'd be smirking, he can just sense it.

It took longer than he really expected to rinse them completely off, given it's cold water, but that meant more pressure washing for them.

By the time he was done, they looked like a drowned rat. Fur plastered down, dripping onto the grass and dirt under their paws

As he got the water shut off and the hose drained out, he got it wrapped back up, "You stay your ass right there, I'll get a towel," he went back over to give them that same warning look, "got i— Darlin'!!"

Despite the incessant warnings, they stood there and shook their fur out, spraying water everywhere... Mostly on him.

Once sopping wet, they stood there still damp, but not to the dripping stage. Sam, however, was soaked. Even as a wolf, the look they had was devilish seeing his formerly white shirt cling to his skin and highlight all of what they love to see; his hair dripping water down his face with silvery eyes giving them a look.

"Didya not hear the umpteen times I told ya not to do that?"

They snorted a short sound as they padded back over to the steps, careful to get to the mat in front of the door to get some excess mud and water off.

Sam sighed heavily and trudged along behind them, wringing his shirt out as he went along, "You're so damn lucky you're cute," he muttered as he slung the drenched tee off to wring out, earning a few thumps of their tail against the wall. He snorted, "Brat..."

He managed to get past them to get inside and grab a towel, draping his shirt over the shower in the meantime to dry out. He came back to finish drying them — and himself — off. Or at least enough to not get water on the floors.

They weren't completely fluffy by the time he allowed them back inside, but enough that he knew it wouldn't get the couch wet. But as soon as they came in, they sat to wait for him to toss the towel into the hamper.

He paused when he came back, seeing them sitting there, tail thumping, an evil glint in their wolfish eyes. "What d'ya have planned now, I know that look."

They simply lifted their head and gestured to the couch.

He didn't trust it. Though, he still went over to sit on the couch, getting situated in his usual spot.

They trotted around to hop up with him, laying their head up against his chest...

To shift back.

Completely naked.

By now, he was beyond used to it, but that didn't mean it doesn't get to him.

"So that's why y'couldn't shift back, hm?" He sat back to let them get up on him.

Their grin was downright sinful, "It'd be a little awkward, yeah. What, don't like it?"

"Ohh-ho," he clicked his tongue, running it over his fangs, "you know damn well I love it. And now that you're all clean..."

In one motion, they were pressed down into the cushions, a glow to his eyes as he leaned over them.

"How 'bout we get a lil' dirty, hm?"

[regainingparadise]

When #myshane retires, he doesn’t go into coaching or podcasting or whatever.

He becomes a consultant who shitty teams trying to not suck, good teams who want to last further into the playoffs, great teams who want to finally win the cup, call to Fix Them.

He is paid absolutely bonkers amounts of money to watch a team play for five minutes and immediately diagnose what’s wrong with them. He is always right.

Ok 5 minutes is probably an exaggeration. The coaches send him a bunch of tape to review in advance. They probably focus on their best players or the ones they think need the most improvement, but half the time Shane requests more, focusing on players they hadn’t paid much attention to before. Then one day at practice, the players look up into the stands and are filled with awe, terror, and wonder, because Shane Hollander is sitting there staring directly at them with a scarily thoughtful look on his face.

He meets with the coaches and gm and reports his conclusions. Who to trade and for who , how to get better results from certain players, how to run power plays and penalty kills, changes in line makeups.

Some lucky players get to meet with him. He takes about five minutes to list off or demonstrate everything they need to do to stop sucking. He has no time for chit chat or hero worship. Focus, listen, learn, and do exactly what he says and you will be good. Fail to do what he says and you will shame your entire bloodline.

I think that, if he’s not the one actually playing, this would be a dream job. It involves Knowing Things About Hockey, Judging Shitty Hockey Players, Getting Recognized As The Best at Hockey, Being Correct, and Making Hockey Better. He should get to do all these things

[asirentail]

"It's just allergies—"

"Allergies should not make you that fucking dizzy and sick to your stomach—"

"It's possible!"

"Just because it's possible doesn't mean it's normal!"

Honey grumbled a long sigh, "Babe. I'm fine. It's just seasonal allergies kicking my ass, okay? Pretty sure those trees that're in around the parking lot bloomed again."

"Okay, sure, I don't doubt that those Jacarandas are doing nothing good for that but I'm serious here, honey," Guy stood there, looking at his clearly not-okay partner laying down.

They'd been complaining about a headache for the past few days. He's been seeing them stumbling a bit over themself, having to use counters and walls to keep themself upright. They've been feeling cold — and for them to feel cold, he knew something was wrong.

Something was up.

And they weren't admitting to it.

"I said I'm fine—"

"And I say you're not."

"You're not exactly the judge of that."

Guy scoffed, "And you are? Honey. Look at yourself. You look pale— You can barely focus your eyes!"

"Just a bit dizzy, that's all."

He went to say something, stopped himself with a hand out, and shook his head. "Okay- okay. Sure. Whatever you say."

But he was still going to keep insisting. Whether they liked it or not.

The next day, a Monday, Guy was just about to go in for his shift when his phone dinged with a text message. His brows scrunched up as soon as he saw who it was.

Honey Baby Darling 🐝: Hey um

Can you come pick me up...

I've been nearly throwing up ever since I got here...

Guy sighed aloud, he tried to tell them.

Yeah, gimme a sec to call my boss and tell them that I can't go in today. Pretty sure they're used to my bullshit anyway so I doubt they're gonna be mad

What about your car?

The little three dots popped up, dropped down, then showed up again before their response.

Honey Baby Darling 🐝:One of my coworkers and her husband said they'd get back to our place

She said she owed me anyway for getting her a five for the vending machine when she forgot her wallet at home

Guy had already texted his boss I give the heads up, explaining that it was an emergency and couldn't make it in, and got the greenlight for it.

Give me five and I'll be there

He got a heart reaction to the message. Yeah... They really weren't feeling well.

He knew how to get to their work, it's just navigating the damn parking lot that's the issue. Too many dead ends for his standards, but... He managed to find a spot that was easy to get back out of.

He noticed their car on the way to the front door, he familiar bee stickers along the windows made it stand out from the rest. He found someone to ask where they were, and got guided to the break room to find his partner laying down yet again.

When they realized he was there, they lazily looked up, "Hey..."

"Hey," he knelt down to feel their forehead, "you sure you're not needing to go in somewhere and get this checked?"

"Positive. Like I said—"

"Yeah, I know," he helped them up to hold them upright enough to get back to his car, "allergies..."

The car ride home was quiet, way quieter than usual.

On the way back, he stopped somewhere to get them a slushie. Something cold and easy on the stomach, and something to actually get something in them before they keeled over.

Getting home, they ended up getting a long nap. After it, they acted like they were feeling much better...

But he still didn't fully believe it.

Tuesday went smoother.

Guy was able to catch up on what he missed the day before and give the details about it. Even a couple of his coworkers recommended him to get them to at least urgent care to see if something was up. Just to be sure. But he kept saying that they refused.

"Just be sure it isn't something serious," one said.

"Sounds to me like the flu or a cold."

Guy shook his head, shrugging with a sigh, "I dunno... I keep trying to get them to go somewhere but they just say they're fine."

"Are they known to try and do everything on their own?" The first one asked.

Guy made a so-so gesture, "Yeah, they're known for that."

"That's why," the second one plainly stated. "It's some sort of response. If they were never believed growing up or never able to ask for help, they'll continue to refuse help. It's a bad cycle."

Guy sighed.

"Yeah, but how do I go about getting them to stop that..."

When he got home after his shift, they looked rather normal. They were talking fine, actually eating... The only difference was them messing with their ears.

When he tried to ask about it, all they said was that they tried to lay down with their headphones on and regretted it.

He didn't believe that either.

Wednesday was the kicker.

He had the day off, thankfully, though they had an early shift. They didn't have much for breakfast, only worrying him again.

He knew about what time they left and what time it'd be when they'd get there. He knew their schedule pretty well by now.

He went to get a quick shower, not hearing his phone ringing while he was in there with his little radio set up to listen to music.

When he came back, he noticed two missed calls.

From his partner.

Oh, he didn't like that.

He fumbled on trying to get to his voicemail, finally getting to it... And hearing them in tears asking to be picked up again. They could hardly speak to explain themself, the message cutting short from the time limit.

He had never over that fast in his life, he's pretty sure he's got two different kinds of socks on and nearly out his jeans on backwards, as he sped through getting dressed and finding his car to get to them.

Nearly running a few red lights, definitely ran a few stop signs, he didn't care in the slightest. He'd pay the god damn ticket.

He didn't really even care if he was in a parking spot or not once he got there, trying to find somebody to ask where the fuck his partner was.

The one he found ended up being their boss. As she led him back to the break room, she explained what happened and how they ended up calling.

They had gotten to work completely sick to their stomach. They were slamming into every wall, bumping into everything, until they got to their desk... And when they tried to stand — in their words — felt like they hit their head on something and slipped back down. They managed to get up to find somewhere to call home got his voicemail, tried again, then went to find and ask if they could lay down for a bit.

Finally seeing them made his heart sink.

They were laying there, face screwed up in pain, shaking.

He was not about to say anything about karma, not when they looked like that.

"The first aid we have, we got their temperature... Not quite a hundred—"

"They run cooler than a lot of people," he interjected as he knelt down next to them, feeling their forehead.

They felt the touch and looked up at him. A tired laugh wheezed out, "Deja vu, huh?"

"No talking," he gently got them to stand, "just... Hold into me, okay?"

They did as they were told, for the most part. They weren't completely stable as they walked, mostly leaning up against him. Their coworker knew to get their car home again, based on the thumbs up Guy got as he passed by.

He was able to get them to his car without incident, getting them all buckled in, as he took a direct route to an urgent care center. They did mumble some sort of protesting noise, but ultimately had no power in the decision.

Thankfully, the place was able to take the walk-in, and once he explained all of their symptoms, he was told they'd be back as soon as possible.

The waiting area was a little bare, which to him, was a good thing because it meant not many people were sick or hurt. They laid their head against his shoulder, his arm around their waist to run soothingly over their side.

Before he knew it, there was a nurse calling his and their name to go back. They could hardly get up into that little table without swaying. He ended up being the one to say most of it, their words weren't really working.

The nurse noted everything down, and took a few vitals, and told him that a doctor would be back soon.

He sat in one of the chairs, making a face at how uncomfortable the thing was.

"Try being on this thing," he heard the mumble, looking up to see them moderately better looking but still not up to par.

"What, you want me up there?" He asked to try and lighten the mood. "I don't think they'd let me, honey."

They blew a lazy raspberry, "Boo... Boring..."

"I know, I know... Hopefully this won't take long, then you can lay down again."

A minute after he said that, a doctor came in and greeted the two... A student doctor following behind.

"Great," Honey huffed as they muttered, "I'm a guinea pig now..."

"So," the doctor clamped her hands together, "what seems to be the issue?" She asked, looking at Honey for the answer, and they looked over at Guy.

"They... Can't really talk for that long," he began with, scooting up a bit closer in the chair. "They've been having headaches for the past week, sick to their stomach, fever... Keep messing with their ears too."

The doctor hummed as she got a couple of things to start examining. Eyes were fine, throat and mouth was fine, reflexes were working properly, lungs and heart sounded decent...

But when the doctor looked into their left ear, that's when she suddenly goes, "Huh..."

And Guy, nor Honey, liked the sound of that.

It was worse when the doctor ushered the student to look at it too, Honey feeling their face burn and not from the fever.

After the two kept checking their ear, the doctor spoke up again. "That is... one of the worst ear infections I've seen in a while— maybe entirely. And I've been at this for quite a few years." She hesitated before adding, "If you waited even just a few days, there would have been hearing damage."

Oh great.

Fantastic.

That's so fucking comforting.

Guy stumbled over his words, "So— wha— that's been what's been up? An ear infection?"

The doctor hummed, "It can mess with a lot since it's connected to a lot. It explained the headaches, the mock allergies, the ear problems, and the vertigo. I'm sending in a prescription for you to pick up once you're out of here, an antibiotic to reduce the inflammation. It's not a permanent fix, but it'll help dramatically. Just be sure to keep good care of your ears to prevent a flareup."

Honey was mumbling something about feeling violated as Guy got the prescription referral and headed out after. Once he got to the pharmacy, got the prescription, and a few things to cheer them up, he headed back home to get them to lay down. By the time he pulled into his usual spot, he noticed their car back, their coworker must've gotten it while they were on break or something.

He had to convince them to take a dose of the antibiotic, and to lay down, but the laying down part seemed to get them to do something.

"That damn pill tasted like molded chalk," they muttered once they were in bed and laying down.

"I know, baby, I know," he refilled their water and set it in their nightstand, "but it's gonna help, okay? You're gonna have to take it to feel better."

"I'm not a kid, y'know. I know all this shit."

"I know you're not and I know you do," he leaned over to kiss their forehead. "Just let me take care of your booboo ear in peace without an audience."

"Says the one that's always consulting said proverbial audience."

"Hey!" He couldn't exactly argue. "There's things they don't need to see or hear, okay? No Livestream today."

They lazily hummed a sound, yawning as they got snuggled up. He was about to leave the room when their arm held out from under the covers, their eyes pleading him.

He couldn't deny them that... Not when they don't feel good and definitely not when they're looking at him so cutely...

He came back over to get under the covers with them, hugging them from behind and pressing a kiss to their shoulder.

He went to tease them about needing the cuddles... And noticed the fact they were already asleep.

The best medicine of all.

[vampyr1um]

i think that with how intertwined gavin is to the freelancer, that when they die, he goes with them

[chimckenns]

And if it’s not something that happens biologically or magically, he’ll choose to go with them anyway 🥺

[asirentail]

Darlin', who walks around the house practically nude because of the heat.

Sam, who doesn't mind one damn bit.

[rainon88]

Milo has an ‘I work out but I like to eat” build.

That’s why his tits are so huge

[jewelcoatfish]

ilya sees this old trend where someone holds out a hand to their partner to see what their partner would give them so he comes over to try it with shane who’s on the sofa. he holds out his hand and shane gives him the remote. he tosses the remote aside. shane looks a bit confused. he gives ilya his phone. ilya tosses that aside. he gives ilya a pillow. ilya tosses that aside. he gives ilya his hand. ilya shakes it out. his face squints in confusion before coming up with an idea and rests his chin on ilya’s hand. and okay, well, the challenge is just to annoy your partner, but holy fuck shane looks so fucking cute with his big brown eyes looking up at ilya waiting for his approval so ilya just really has to smile and kisses him about it.

[rozanovshane]

toddler shane refusing to talk after his hockey team lose a game. yuna & david are trying to be encouraging like “bud!! you played so good!!” and shane is ignoring them while climbing into his car seat where he’s going to angrily drink his juice box and then chew on the straw.

[flyora]

Couldn't miss the chance

[universeleads]

I explained the concept of "blorbo from my shows" to my 71 year old immigrant grandfather because I referenced it in passing and I thought nothing of it, until today when he said "I think I'll watch peaky blinders tonight and see my blorbo from my shows" referring, of course, to Cillian Murphy playing Tommy Shelby

[universeleads]

English isn't his first language so he's not super in touch with modern slang, so I've been accidentally teaching him to talk like a tumblr user. His favorite thing to say lately is "me when I'm a little hater" when he's like talking shit about the neighbor's son

[overwhelmedfernfrond]

I explained the “x before gta6” meme to my immigrant father and he, in turn, explained to me how back in his day in Romania, they had the same type of joke, except instead of it being gta6, it was about the imminent death of a singer named Gică Petrescu, who everyone was continuously shocked by because he refused to die. Every time a momentous event happened people would say, in essence: “This happened and Gică Petrescu hasn’t even died yet?!?”

So. He understood the gta6 meme immediately because they apparently had the same thing in Romania when he was young, except way, way more morbid

[venort]

OP are you telling me we got the death of Gică Petrescu before we got gta6

[allsteddie]

Steve, who was always the first to say 'I love you' in every single relationship he had, blue screening the moment Eddie let it slip an 'I love you' after Steve surprised him with a homemade birthday cake.

[cvltistbrunette]

Laying under your captor and whispering, “are you going to kill me?”

And being answered with a gently hummed “mhm,” a smile, and the soft brush of his thumb over your lips while he gazes down at you.