#my mom doesn’t know what touch starved means

[mintmatcha]

cw: a weird vent piece lol, suicide mention, no quirks au, mentally ill reader

You always fuck with your shirt on. You'd wear more, if you could, but you haven't figured out how to do it with your pants on yet.

You pull the sheets over your sweat chilled legs and hope he didn't notice the spots you missed shaving. If he did, Natsuo doesn't seem to mind. His arm is tucked under your head, muscle fibers occasionally twitching underneath you and turning the soft mass dense.

Sometimes, Natsuo keeps his shirt on too. Neither of you have ever asked the other about it; there's a mutual understanding when a hand is stopped.

"Do you work tonight?" he asks.

You shake your head as his body relaxes deeper into the mattress.

"I'm gonna do laundry if you want to throw your stuff in," he mumbles, "I'll get you junk to sleep in."

The medical textbooks he was studying are still on the floor, flipped to random pages of different cycles and tissues, abandoned in exchange for you. If Natsuo fails his midterms, it'll be your fault. If he passes, he'll be leaving the city next semester for his hospital rotations.

Part of you wants him to fail. It's that dirty, evil part that no one else seems to have, the part you try to starve, but it keeps growing anyway. It nips at you whenever the room gets too quiet.

It's teeth are extra sharp today.

"You're so sweet." You speak into his skin, "I don't know how you're still single."

A sharp inhale is sucked through his teeth, cutting through his smile. Natsuo takes in all of your features and you know he's wondering why you're saying these things-- why you're purposefully bringing this up.

"Well, sweetie-" His tone is light, like he's avoiding stepping on glass, stepping on glass. With every word, he walks his fingers on your arm, spanning from elbow to shoulder, "I'm only single because you keep turning me down."

The overhead fan whizzes. The part you try to starve sinks its teeth into your chest.

"Natsuo, we've talked about this," you say, "I don't date."

You sit up and swing a leg over him, straddling his hips. A trail of white hair runs down his stomach and down under the sheets, disappearing where the two of you meet. He holds you by the hem of your tee, just tight enough to hold you in place.

"Would it be so bad?" he whispers.

"Here's what would happen, alright?" You brush your fingers through his sweat touched hair and it bounces right back into place the second you pull away. It makes you giggle a bit and he mirrors you, an unsure, foolish optimism in his eyes, "Let's just say I met this wonderful, beautiful boy and tricked-"

"Tricked?" he scoffs.

"Tricked him into loving me." You want to kiss him, but it feels cruel for both of you. Instead, you just cup his jaw in your hands and cradle him, letting the weight of him slump into your palms, "He'd treat me right and bring me home to meet his parents, 'cause he was raised right and, even though he's really smart, he'd think he's in love."

Fingers squeeze at your hips.

"But the second I left, his parents would tell him that he deserves someone prettier and smarter and, and, and better," you say, "And they'd be right."

“My mom’s nice," He drops your pretense with a whisper, ruining your not so careful charade. “She wouldn’t say that.”

He doesn’t mention his dad. There’s a silent sentence there. One that says, “But he might.” It’s hard to keep your brain from sticking to that point, from sticking your thumb into this metaphorical soft spot.

“I mean, she wouldn’t say it out loud, but she’d think it," you say, “She’d sit there and think ‘that girl's not good enough for my son' and she'd be right."

He scoff he lets out is uneasy, almost a songed laugh, more pained than annoyed. "My mom is nice."

This conversation is hurting him, but you can't stop yourself.

"And they'd tell you to break up with me, but you wouldn't listen to them, 'cause you're head strong like that. You'd probably date me in spite of them for while," you ramble, "But then you'd go away and you'd meet some pretty, normal girl and you'd realize they were right. They were always right. I was right."

The overhead fan whizzes.

"So, it's better if I just don't date at all,"

Natsuo's grip dissolves and you think you see it then - the moment whatever is between you dies. A hollowness passes over his features, empty eyes and sucked cheeks, as he ducks his head down to rest his face against your chest. Chin against the soft of your tits, he seems farther away than ever.

You could gloat. You could cry. You're a self-fulfilling prophecy once again.

Natsuo sighs and his words slip so easily from him that you almost don't process what he's saying. "You're so sad. I wish you'd get help."

That catches you off guard. The control over this conversation is ripped away, your curtain drops, and you suddenly feel very, horribly seen.

"What?" You try to laugh it off, leaning back to escape the way he watches you.

"Sometimes I wake up and you're not here," he says, "And I worry that's the last time I'll ever see you."

You understand the implication.

"I'm not gonna kill myself." It might be the truth, you think.

"Yeah," His arms wrap around your waist again, snaking the air from your lungs, "Touya promised me that too."

Touya is only ever mentioned over too many beers and tears you're not allowed to remember the next morning. He was only 16, only a couple years older than Natsuo, but the ghosts still linger to this day, always tucked into the back of the room, stalking, haunting.

Natsuo comes from money and fame. His apartment is paid for by his father. He's never had to work to afford food. At first, you resented him for that; you wanted that ease and safety his family afforded him.

But everything comes at a cost. Every unhappy family is unhappy in there own ways.

"I'm sorry that you keep loving things that break." That is the truth. You're just the end of a line of his mistakes, starting all the way at mom and dad and trailing through every girlfriend ever since.

"I do love you. And it's not despite the fact you're 'broken'," Natsuo takes your hand with a resounding firmness. It reminds you of that thing they say about golden retrievers; the smart ones can hold an egg in their jaws without shattering the shell. Natsuo holds you like he understands you in some deep, intrinsic way, "Or because of it or whatever."

He doesn't look away, those bright, wide eyes bluer than ever.

"I just like all your little pieces." He kisses your knuckles one by one, trailing from thumb to pinkie to thumb again.

The room is silent. The bad part of you is no longer begging to eat. Maybe it's full for now, but you know it's just out of focus, stalking in the dark, biding its time.

"You should study." You slip from him and reclaim your own space in the bed. After a long, simple pause, Natsuo gets up himself, collecting his boxers from the floor.

"Yeah," he says, "You're right."

The hurt you've caused is no longer comfortable to live in. Your mouth is dry, thirsty for a change you're not sure how to make. Recovery feels like a big leap-- loving and being loved feels every farther away.

All you can do is shuffle your feet against the sheets and take the tiniest step towards normalcy.

"Do you want to get brunch tomorrow before your classes?" you offer your olive branch, your silent promise, "I'll pay."

He weighs this, measuring it for sincerity, then smiles just wide enough your get a glimpse of teeth.

"Let me get you something to sleep in."

For now, it's enough.

[muwapsturniolo]

✯Chris dating a black girl ✯

-he would be so lost but in love

-he gets whiplash with how much you change your hair (different colored wigs, different braids, etc)

-“wasn’t your hair just blue yesterday?”

-would try and run his finger through your hair and would be scared when his hand gets stuck

-he tries to put on all your bonnets

-“why the fuck do you have so many?” “Mind the business that minds you Christoper”

-LOVES THE GLOSSED LIPS (he loves the brown lipliner combo🤭)

-buys you lipgloss from a store but gets confused when you tell him it’s the wrong one.

-“it’s lipgloss how is it wrong?”

-introducing the beauty supply✨

-he’s amazed by everything in the store and keeps trying to touch everything

-“stop touchin! My momma would have popped you by now!”

-tries to convince you to let him get a durag

-“chris baby, let’s not have you get canceled.”

-gets scared by the mannequins

-he gets stuck reading all the perfume oil names (his favorite is ‘lick me all over’)

-“you lost baby?”

-he gets scared when a auntie speaks to him but he feels warm at the pet name.

-“no?”

-stays by your side for the rest of the trip

-blushes when the aunties hype him up for paying for all your stuff.

-if you’re close with your fam, he loves going over.

-“is your mom making her peach cobbler!?”

-plays fornite with your brothers

-listens to your sister complain about their boyfriends

-if you’re not close with your fam (like me) he will listen to you complain.

-“my auntie need her shit rocked for real! I’m tired of her ass!”

-“that’s why her kids got taken. She can’t keep a man and she can’t keep her kids!” Chris chokes on his drink.

-his first cookout he was mad confused when your mom (or whoever) told him to only bring the paper plates.

-“I was going to bring cookies!”

-“bring the paper plates, ion have time to back up your cookies Chris.”

-almost cries when he doesn’t see Pepsi in the cooler and sees RC.

-looks at you aunt/grandma crazy when they demand you to make his plate first.

-“look at him! He don’t have no meat on his bones! You be starving him y/n!?” “Ion even live with him!” “A damn shame, come on baby let’s get you a plate!”

-he fucks up the food! He had three plates

-“he fuckin that shit UP!” Your cousins try to clown him.

-nervously laughs and nods along to your uncles talking about getting girls and dominos (old head shit)

-your cousin offer him to take a walk with them and he says yes but then you gotta snatch him up and tell him what that means.

-he definitely embarrasses you trying to dance.

-“I told you to only get up to the cha cha slide!”

-“I wanted to dance!”

- takes home four plates

Lemme know if yall want more of these!!!

TAG LIST 🍑

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@ivonchetooo1239 @that-general-simp @iloveurgf

[aubreysheadspace]

hi!! <3 can i rq the omori main cast with a reader who gets attached to people super easily + is rly affectionate :D (separate & romantic pls!! OHOH AND rw not headspace :3) if it's easier for you, you can just write kel, basil, & hero!! ^_^

THANK U AUBREY DEAREST I LUV UR BLOG SO MUCH

MAIN CAST WITH A READER WHO GETS ATTACHED TO PEOPLE EASILY/IS REALLY AFFECTIONATE

WAAA TYSMMM I’m so glad ppl enjoy my work sm :0!! Hope u enjoy!!

SUNNY

SUNNY is absolutely touch starved without realizing it, so he’s definitely stiff and awkward at first when you give him a hug or simply hold his hand

slowly but surely he’s gonna get used to it, and then he’ll be expecting at least a hug every single day at the point. he’ll be a bit disappointed if not but he’ll get over it

if you kiss him he’ll stop anything that he’s doing and stands/sits there for at least two minutes before his ears turn red and his cheeks slightly turn red as well

there was absolute silence, not a single movement from your boyfriend who you decided to kiss on the cheek/lips for the first time as a sweet reminder of how much you loved him. you grew to become a bit worried and poked his shoulders. "SUNNY?? SUNNY, are you okay??" you asked your stoic boyfriend. after a minute of poking him, you saw his ears turn a bit redder then usual and then his cheeks. you smiled a bit, knowing your boyfriend enjoyed the little kiss you gave him

SUNNY doesn’t mind if you get easily attached to others, and doesn’t mind if you two just met and you’re already attached to him

he’ll find it weird, but that’s basically it. he kind of enjoys someone being automatically attached to him for some reason?

if it’s someone else you’ve grown attach as well, SUNNY will feel a little jealous. he hides it pretty well, but always reassure him that you love him the most

AUBREY

when she was younger, AUBREY would always take any sort of affection no matter what and even give back some of her own! although now that she’s hot-headed and a bit aggressive from everything that’s happen, AUBREY stays stiff when you give her a hug of some sort

she immediately look at you in disbelief before slightly smirking and letting out a chuckle. she secretly enjoys being hugged, especially when she’s feeling down the most. she also touch starved without realizing it from not receiving any attention from her mom and due to MARI’s passing

if you give her a kiss she’ll immediately panic a bit and look at you with an even more expression of disbelief like "WHY did u decide to kiss me?!" but she’ll think back to it when she’s alone and not even realize her cheeks are turning red from the feeling and thought of the little kiss

AUBREY’s cheeks grew flustered when you decided to kiss her on the cheek/lips, she looks at you in shock and a bit frustrated. "wh- what was that for..?!" AUBREY asked as you stifled a giggle out. "i just wanted to show my girlfriend how much i love her!" you responded, smiling a bit at her. "pfft— whatever.. at least let me know next time, you dork.." AUBREY looked away as she didn’t want you to see how red she was.

AUBREY will genuinely be a bit surprised that you’re easily attached to people at first, is that why you’re attached to her?

she kind of thinks you’re naive to be attached to others. i mean, what if someone is deep down a huge jerk to you?

this applies if you’re already attached to someone else that isn’t her. she’ll be a bit jealous at first, but then that jealousy dies down if you reassure her a lot with physical affection and words of affirmation

KEL

KEL doesn’t mind if you’re so affectionate, because he is too! this relationship will be all about physical affection mostly but also a drop of words of affirmation

he’ll surprisingly give you affection more than you, and even be ECSTATIC when you give some back! he enjoys it no matter what and he’ll definitely need it when he has a bad day of some sorts

if you decide to kiss him, KEL would slowly process that you kissed him and once he does he gets even more ECSTATIC! he’ll gladly kiss you back with his dorky smile across his slightly red cheek

"woah!" KEL raised his voice a bit after he saw you give him a quick kiss on the cheek/lips for being such a good boyfriend. "you… you kissed me?" KEL said, kind of processing it which made you laugh a bit. "yes, yes i kissed you, KEL." you answered, and KEL finally processed it with a huge smile on his face. "you kissed me! you really did kiss me, [READER]! wow, i’m so happy!" KEL gave you a tight hug and plants a bunch of kisses across your face as his own reward for being such an awesome person to love him!

like the others, KEL does not mind at all if you’re super attached to others including him. that’s what makes you.. you! he won’t change it for the world

in a way, he’s sort of like that too! he understands where you’re coming from and even is a bit bashful is you’re already attached to him!

if you’re already attached to someone else that isn’t him, he won’t even consider himself jealous! he’ll instantly befriend the person as well!

HERO

HERO absolutely enjoys the amount of affection you give him! sure, he’ll be a bit awkward and nervous about it at first but he’ll always enjoy the amount of affection you give him!

he’ll always do something for you in return. you needed to get some chores? HERO has already done them for you! are you hungry for a home cooked meal? HERO has already something cooking just for you!

if you decide to kiss him, HERO will instantly flustered but will give you his own charming kiss back as a little thank you

HERO looked at you with his eyes slightly widened after you decided to give him a kiss on the cheek/lips. he immediately turns into a slightly blushing mess and laughs nervously, "gosh [READER]! at least let me know when you’ll kiss me, haha!" HERO half-joked, looking away to hide his red face. "sorry, sorry! i just wanted to let you know how much i love all that you’re doing for me!" you explained your excuse, to which HERO looked back at you with the same surprised look before smiling warmly. "…thank you, [READER], i appreciate that you’re still with me."

HERO is genuinely a bit surprised how attached you are with people, but doesn’t judge you for it. that’s who you are and he doesn’t want to change you at all because he loves you!

he does know that there are actual jerks out there who’s take advantage of how nice people are, so he wants you to be extra careful!

if you’re already attached to someone else that isn’t him, HERO would love to meet them! he starts up a conversation with them, and just to make sure, let’s them know he’s your boyfriend

BASIL

BASIL is another touch starved one, and it’s pretty obvious. like AUBREY, he’d panic and be all flustered when you give him physical affection

he tries to calm himself down and slowly get used to all the love he gets from you, but he can’t help it! he appreciates all the attention and affection he gets from you but sometimes he gets overwhelmed easily, so make sure you start with him slowly

if you decide to kiss him, BASIL will immediately become all flustered and nervous. he’d excuse himself to the bathroom for a bit and once he does, he immediately tries to calm himself down. he can’t help but smile a tiny bit and cover his face in embarrassment

BASIL let’s out a tiny squeak as you one day decided to give him a kiss on the cheek/lips for how much he’s come so far. his face immediately turns all red and looks at you with a stunned look that said 'did you really just did that..?' you stifled out a tiny laugh and spoke, "sorry, sorry! i’m just really proud of you BASIL for how much you’ve come so far! i guess that was a bit too much for you, so i apologize..!" after you explained yourself, BASIL simply nodded and asked with such a meek and nervous tone, "sorry.. could you excuse me for a bit?" and immediately heads to the bathroom and locks himself in there. he couldn’t stop smiling and blushing for minutes!

BASIL is also surprised when he finds out you’re attached to people quite easily. he used to be somewhat the same four years ago and so he doesn’t judge you for it

although he’s closed off a bit now, he does secretly want to be your number one and never wants you to leave him for someone else

if you’re attached to someone else that isn’t him, BASIL will panic a tiny bit on the inside as he sweats more on the outside. he tries to reassure himself that you love him, so make sure his reassurance is correct!

MARI

MARI absolutely enjoys all of your affection! she’s pretty affectionate herself, so expect a lot of hugs and kisses on the forehead

she also uses words of affirmation as one of her love languages, so expect a lot of compliments and flirting coming from her!

if you decide to kiss her, she’ll blush a bit before smugly looking at you. she definitely tease you a bit just for fun before kissing you as well!

"oh my!" MARI had a bit of a surprised look on her face as she looks at what you did. you decided to give her a kiss on the cheek/lips for being the best girlfriend ever!! you stifled a laugh at her response but immediately recognize the smug look on her face and realized what you put yourself through. "my goodness [READER], i had absolutely no idea you were bold enough to do this, hehe!" MARI said, right before she surprised you with her own kiss. "..but i guess i am too!" she said as she giggled a bit, knowing that her plan to fluster you worked.

MARI doesn’t judge you for how easily attached you are when it comes to people. she’s somewhat the same way?? she could make conversation with someone and immediately earn herself a friend!

of course she’s always be your number one, MARI would make sure of that by giving you all of her affection and love, and inviting you to little dates like a simple picnic with just the two of you

if you already grown attached to someone that isn’t her, MARI would be HAPPY to meet this person! she’ll invite them to a picnic as they, and you too of course, chat it off! like HERO, MARI would let the person know that she’s your girlfriend just in case!

[hanasnx]

stop because i literally thought this was just me being completely utterly weird but knowing that there’s someone out there that thinks the same thing is literally so relieving, like yes?? anakin is and would be “gross” when he’s having sex?? and omg and dropping hot wax on him?? i loved all of what you said, we need more “gross”anakin. 

thank you for coming to my Ted talk.💗

(btw I’m talking about you “scratching the surface” with anakin’s other kinks)

val it’s so real it’s practically canon.

prev post

like i absolutely know padme (who’s not prudish by any means & even if she was that’d be fine) was barely keeping up with her husbands sex drive and kinks. but the man knows how to lay the meanest pipe so i just know she loved being along for the ride 🤷‍♂️

sometimes some of the gross stuff i write for him i don’t even write it as a “this is gonna be so hot” it’s literally like “yea ani would do this and probably be into it” like i really try to stay true to his character and he thinks it’s hot. whether or not i do or you do is subjective. the reader in the fic is always gonna reflect ani’s sense of adventure and therefore be into what he’s into for the sake of storytelling

i have a series of unarticulated thoughts on anakin’s so-called “grossness” and i try to sprinkle them in evenly throughout my work. but since u asked for more, i’ll give you a list

let’s talk more about anakin’s disgusting habits under the cut

warnings: f pronouns + anatomy, dead dove do not eat for sexually and potentially triggering explicit themes. things such as feet stuff, butt stuff, armpit stuff, pregnant/breeding/lactation kink, titfuck. mommy/daddy kink, mentioned vomit from gagging on cock & cleaning it off & face fucking, slight dubcon, sadism, dacryphilia, piss kink, blood consumption

☥ he’s so impulsive, so eager to act on a whim. unapologetically gross

☥ ani is treading pretty dangerously close to a foot fetish bcos it’s part of “his worship” for reader. and he would 100% “floss your toes with his tongue” and he’d tell reader that to their face too

☥ would make out w your ear tbh.

use tongue when he kisses you on places that are supposedly chaste. your hand or your cheek or your forehead during goodbye. what’s the point? he doesn’t know. he wants to taste the sweat on your skin

☥ he eats ass like a starving man and he loves when it’s done to him too. he doesn’t even fuckin care istg he loves ass. he loves fingering it while he’s fucking your pussy, he loves fisting it, fucking it, making you wear cute jeweled butt plugs. he wants to fist your pussy too but that’s not nearly as easy as your perfect asshole

☥ unhinged enough to lick & suck your armpits. sweaty or not. part of his insatiable need to have touched/licked every reachable inch of your body no matter how unorthodox. the possession in him

☥ my friend (i’d tag them but i didn’t know if they’d want to be tied to this piece of info 💀) once said “he wants to live inside your skin” and she was 100% right

☥ shamelessly attracted to pregnant women & milfs & tits. the mommy issues on this kid is out of this world. he wants you to take care of him like you’re his mom and i mean that. and he also wants to fuck you. he’s so fucked up. if you made dinner for him? in nothing but an apron? he’d call you mommy and eat whatever you made right off of you

☥ breeding. we all know it, it’s been done before a thousand times. anakin’s the king of the breeding kink. but i’d like to say some more about it.

if you’re pregnant, he’s constantly trying to fuck you. you’re like “my love, can you grab me that? i’m in a lot of pain right now i can’t—

immediately, he’s asking: “you want me to fuck you too? it might relieve some of the pressure. i read somewhere..”

he’s practically vibrating sitting next to you thinking about how he— him— he put babies inside you. h i m.

god and if you let him have you?? he goes crazy

he’s like grabbing your hair and licking up the length of your spine and saying shit like, “gotta make sure right? gotta make sure… you’re gonna take it all… my little wife.”

and

“i did this to you, didn’t i? say it, baby, who got you fucking pregnant? fuck, your tits are gonna get so fucking big. you’re gonna let daddy milk you, right?” cos that lactation kink is so real too

he’d honestly wanna fuck your tits while they’re full of milk. watch your nips drool milk all over yourself and his dick while it’s nestled so tight in between em. you’re practically crying from the oversensitivity which is just an added plus for him.

part of the pregnancy kink is definitely the thrill of almost forcing you to have his children.. going bareback and bein like “you ready for another one? let’s make another. if it doesn’t take this time, we’ll keep doing it. i’ll give you my cum as many times as it takes, yeah? you fucking love it.” after you literally just had one of his children bcos he’s selfish and cruel and tyrannical and gets off to shit like this

☥ after a blowjob he wants you to swish and gargle his load. open your mouth so he can spit in it and make you mix it in. watch you as you swallow it and probe your mouth with his tongue to taste the remnants

☥ piss kink. he has it. he wants it both ways. something about watching you kneel in front of him to get pissed on makes him feel so superior. disgustingly superior. telling you how good you are sitting so pretty for him while he pisses on you. you’re so dirty for liking it. might make you drink it depending bcos he’s def had yours—

☥ making you practically vomit on his cock from fucking your throat so deep. swells with pride when you lick it off of him like a good girl. he loves seeing you gag and choke and lurch. the way your throat looks closing up and how your body surges from the involuntary movement. it makes him moan and fuck your mouth like a pussy. as hard as he can.

☥ twisting and pulling and flicking your clit and nips. slapping your pussy. tugging at your folds. simply bcos of his sick fascination to put you through so much for his own sexual satisfaction. don’t worry he expects the same from you.

☥ he’d lick and drink your blood in the right circumstances tbfh. if he broke the skin on you somewhere he’d lick the wound

☥ he wants to watch you hopelessly fuck so many things for him. for him, specifically. not you. for him. he wants you to put on a show for him. to redden and whine and cry bcos whatever thing (which is most likely not a toy, and something not meant to be stuck up your ass or pussy. that stretches it too wide or whatever other reason) just isn’t working and it’s not getting you where you need to be. and you beg for him to help you. to let you stop. but he doesn’t. not yet anyway

☥ seriously,,, there is so little i don’t see this boy doing ,,, there’s definitely more but this is just what i had on hand. 🥵🥵 i love anakin’s disgusting side. disgusting is an understatement. he needs a stronger word

[drivinmeinsane]

i want that essay about six x k!! im curious to know what your favorite ryguy ships are because you write some interesting ones. what about your least favorites too?

Thank you for the question! I'm not sure I can ethically subject anyone to that essay, anon, it'd just be the ramblings of a madman. However, I'll let some of it slip through in response to your ask. Just for you. ♥

I narrowed my favorites down to three and provided explanations of sorts for all of them. Spoiler alert, they're not short and probably don't make a lot of sense. (；′⌒`)

»{ Driver x Ken

Ken desperately needs to be provided for. He withers and dies if not wanted, sincerely or not. He’ll accept someone’s false desire no matter how hollow it leaves him. He snaps up scraps of affection like a starving dog. He's bossy and flashy as a show of false bravado to cover up his deep insecurities and abandonment issues. There's that desire in him to be a little plaything, to let someone else call the shots. He’s very susceptible to being molded into whatever form someone else desires. He wants to be the “and Ken” even as he tries to figure out what it means to be himself. Driver has a deep seated need to be needed, being wanted is just a cherry on top. He's obsessive and territorial. He never got to keep anything for himself. The effect his parents had on him is clear. There’s traces in him of the way that his mom kept bugs trapped under drinking glasses until they suffocated rather than let them go. There’s flashes of casual brutality in him that echos when she took two knives to his father’s throat at the kitchen table. His father’s only need of him was to aid him in stealing, but found himself discarded the moment he hit his growth spurt and became too tall. He latched onto a childhood friend, carries pieces of his time with him and his family with him (his love of Mexican food among other things). His foster family didn’t need him, not really, so he left to find someone who did. He lets Shannon undercut him because Shannon finds him useful. He’s the best wheelman in the city and an excellent mechanic because it means people rely on him. He can taste being the most important person in their lives for just a moment. He's made himself as indispensable as possible, always chasing the dragon. He would destroy himself to be needed, never mind anyone else in his path. Driver latches onto Ken, because Ken needs him in order to survive in the real world. He’s needed more by him than anyone has never needed him, and oh, he revels in that need. In return for Ken’s reliance, Driver wants him, wants him so badly that he would throw any semblance of sanity out the window. He doesn’t ask questions of Ken’s circumstances, doesn’t want to know the hows and the whys, lest it break the spell. Ken can place the fragility of himself in Driver’s hands and know that Driver still wants him despite it. He can trust Driver to shape him with the careful touch of a mechanic, fine tune all the parts of him until there’s nothing else but tender maintenance. There’s no scraps here, it is a sickening feast of devotion and Ken will gorge himself. Driver will suffocate Ken under a glass and Ken will help Driver place it over him.

»{ Officer K x Sierra Six

There’s nothing truly real in K’s life. Everything is pretend, playacting, a pantomime of something greater. He is so wrapped up in the desire to be a real human being to the point where he does stop to consider the ways that he already is. He has his own humanity, his own soul, his own emotions. He doesn’t address the human quality of the drive to want. Instead, he yearns until it kills him and what is more human than that? He craves a family, craves connections. K patches together what he can. He finds a mother, a father, a wife. He collects things from replicants that he’s retired. He’s trying to make up a soul from pieces of others. He’s desperately reaching out only to hit walls. No one is reaching out for him in return. He’s nothing more than a means to an end, a tool. Six sacrifices himself, goes where he’s pointed, throws himself in the path of destruction over and over for people that he loves. He lets himself be injured, lets himself be thrown away, lets himself be used. All in the name of love and duty. He does not stop to contemplate what he is or what he might be. There is no chase for a deeper meaning of what it means to be human. He just simply is what he is because there is no time to be anything but that. He doesn’t have the time to examine his feelings. Tools don’t think. They are reflections of each other. Two men without human names, treated as objects. Their autonomy is of no consequence. They were two scared boys standing up for what was theirs only to become two scared men willing to die for what matters to them. K would be forced to see Six as a person. Perhaps he would realize that if the other individual is human, K must be as well because they are the same. Six would finally be able to open the lid on the swirl of thoughts inside him, to share a part of himself with someone who would understand. They could gather up the scraps of their lives and put them together to make something meaningful. Family. K would reach out to his mirror image only for it to do the same and meet him palm to palm. Flesh to flesh. Interlinked at last. Maybe the burden of what he has have done wouldn’t weigh so heavily on Six with someone else’s equally tainted hands on the stone beside his. Maybe the boulder wouldn’t roll back down the hill.

»{ Henry Letham x Sam Foster

No matter what, Henry is hell bound. He can’t imagine a happy ending for himself. He has woven a tangled web of destruction and self-flagellation that I think holds true even if he hadn’t been going through the events of the movie. He’s an artist with the flair for the extreme. He’s obsessive and ruminates over the same things over and over, wringing out every ounce of meaning. He assigns significance where there is none. Sam is a fixer. Despite his own mental well-being, he has to try to save others. He cannot sit by passively. It’s that kind of attitude that gets him crouching beside a dying man on a bridge at night. Outwardly, he has it all together, sensible. He is likely the model image of a good doctor, going above and beyond for those under his care. Henry would haunt Sam, consume his thoughts. Sam would let Henry infect him. They are intertwined and neither wants to truly break free. Henry finds a captive audience in Sam. He’s able to admit things to him he would never say to anyone else, couldn’t say to anyone else. Henry is Sam’s destruction in any reality. Sam will never not be too late to save Henry.

+ Shoutouts to Holland March x Jackson Healy. I really like the ship but would never write for it without my bestie, @danime25, collabing with me. It just doesn't scratch that itch in my brain in a way that makes me want to go solo.

Also, I'm not going to dive into ships I dislike here. I might be a hater, but I'm not going to hate publicly. This sideblog is for fun. We're all just celebrating the RyGos boys here so I just want to focus on what I do enjoy. ♪(´▽｀)

Feel free to share your thoughts. I'm always down to talk about these guys.

[elvensorceress]

Fuck it Friday 

tagged by @alyxmastershipper @rewritetheending @ajunerose @ebdaydreamer @eddiesbleps @sibylsleaves @jobairdxx @achillesbuck @messyhairdiaz @comaboybuck @hippolotamus

tagging @eddiescowboy  @spaceprincessem @evanbuckleysarms @buddiefication @rose-buddie @wh0re-behavi0r @favouritealias @moonlightcrossesonyourbody @hollyandvice  @megsvstheworld @thespermdonorstorylineisstupid @folk-fae @babytrapperdiaz @shortsighted-owl @spotsandsocks @cowboy-buddie @chaosandwolves 

well. I wish I had some fun porns to show off. but I really just have this. so. 🫣

from the Broke My Own Heart verse with @alyxmastershipper my partner in angsty smutty crimes

The churning in Eddie’s stomach is worse and makes him sick. But he takes in air — that smells like wild sweet home and homemade love — and he can be stone. Dead and cold, heartless and hollow. “I saw Shannon today.” It sounds rough but too soft for what it is, what it means. 

“What do you mean?” Buck asks quietly as he goes still, caught in amber that will preserve but also kill him. “What does that mean?” 

“I had to call her so the school could talk to her. The one I’m trying to get Chris admission to. So, I saw her. Talked to her. She wants to try again. She wants— We’re married. She’s Christopher’s mom. She wants—” 

There’s still music somewhere. Left with a night where they could have filled the empty glasses and shared food and wine and kisses, and danced to the sultry music until they tangled together, naked and covered in each other and hazy romantic candlelight. 

The music is there somewhere, but everything goes white noise silent. There’s no more air to breathe, no more warmth to feel. His hands, his arms, his heart are freezing and flooding with sharp numbness until there’s nothing left for him to feel and nothing left for him to touch. 

It’s better this way. It will be. Buck deserves better. Buck deserves to never be used and hurt. 

“What do you want?” Buck’s voice is low, quiet but weighted iron. 

A world where Eddie doesn’t hurt people he loves? A world where that question has any relevance? “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does.” Buck steps toward him, fire and insistence, and Eddie just wants to burn to ashes. He would let Buck turn him to ash and take everything left. He has a feeling it belongs with him anyway. 

Eddie shakes his head. “I can’t not do this for Christopher. He misses her.” 

“Then let him have her. Put together a joint custody arrangement. Tell her she can have him on certain nights and weekends and whatever. Why does she have to have you?”

Because— they’re married? Because she wants him? Does she want him? She would have to? Or she would have to say that she does because then he’ll let her see Chris. If they’re a family, then she can have them both? Does she even want them both? He doesn’t actually know. 

Because he didn’t think he had any other options?  

Buck steps away before he can answer. “Never mind. I get it. All of it.” He goes around the room and blows out the candles, turns off the music, then takes the bouquet of flowers and shoves it into Eddie’s chest. “Did you know bluebonnets are for bravery, courage, and sacrificial loyalty? I looked it up. They symbolize sacrifice.” 

Yeah. Somewhere in his head, Eddie knew that. He doesn’t know anything anymore though. But he holds onto the bouquet and knows when to exit if nothing else. The lights are too harsh now and the silence is too loud. He’s starving but the meal isn’t for him. 

“Eddie.” 

He stops but doesn’t turn around. He waits for whatever shot Buck wants to make, whatever way he wants to strike back and make himself feel better about this. Eddie can take it. Whatever he has to bear. 

“Did you even fight for me? Or did you just agree?” 

He didn’t know Buck was something he could fight to have. Buck isn’t something he can fight for. Buck doesn’t deserve this. Eddie doesn’t deserve him. Eddie doesn’t deserve anyone. 

[demonsanddemogorgons]

Sunny in Philadelphia - A Joseph Quinn Story (Chapter 14)

Chapter 14 - Girlfriend

You were awoken by the sun peeking through your blackout curtains that weren’t completely closed. You turned over to see an empty bed beside you, and a clock that read 7:00 am. You groaned and stretched, climbing out of bed and putting an oversized t-shirt and underwear on to head downstairs. As you made your way to the bottom of the stairs, you were greeted by Jango. You scratched him behind the ear and leaned down to kiss his head. You walked into the kitchen to see Joe standing at the stove, bacon frying and pancakes bubbling.

“Good morning, lovey. Sleep well?” he asked, flipping the bacon.

“Hey, babe. Yes, I did, but it’s still early. What are you doing up?”

“I dunno, I guess I’m still used to Dallas time. I had to be up early there and it’s an hour ahead here.”

You walked up and hugged him from behind as he worked on the pancakes, kissing the back of his shoulder.

“Thank you for making breakfast.”

“Of course, darling. You ready? It’s almost done.”

“Yes, I’m starving,” you responded, getting plates and silverware out. You wandered over to the Keurig to start a cup of coffee but found one sitting there freshly made.

“Already done, love,” Joe said from across the kitchen with a smile as he saw where you went.

“Wow, it’s almost like you know me, Quinn,” you smirked, grabbing the cup, and getting in the refrigerator for your cream. He laughed.

“It doesn’t take long to notice your addiction to coffee. It’s not Starbucks, but it’s something.”

“It’s perfect. Thank you.”

The two of you sat down and began devouring the breakfast Joe had made. He was good at everything, it seemed – cooking, physical touch, making sure you had everything you needed in more ways than one. You loved that he knew you so well already. You were a good book he couldn’t put down, paying attention to every detail so he could show you how much he cared later. He loved learning what made you tick, what you liked and didn’t like, what made you feel good. He was a true gentleman because it was what you deserved in his mind.

“So...” you trailed off, cutting up your pancake. “Mom said she can’t wait to meet you, and that she would love it if we joined them for dinner tonight. My brother and Rachel will be going, too.”

“That sounds lovely, darling.”

“Well, don’t get too excited yet.”

Joe furrowed his brows in confusion.

“My mom isn’t the one you need to worry about,” you giggled. “She is nice to everyone, even people who don’t deserve it. My dad, on the other hand, is a bit different.”

“Different?”

“Yes, different. He, umm... he is a bit of a redneck. He won’t threaten you or anything, but he will make you feel threatened without even having to say anything. He has that affect.”

“He can’t be that bad, darling. He’s just trying to protect you.”

“He didn’t used to be that bad, but after the last man I brought around...” you trailed off, raising your brows to imply that Joe knew who that was. “He definitely means business now.”

“What’s he going to do? Clean a gun in front of me like that one country song says?” Joe joked, laughing. You just stared at him.

“Yes. Exactly.”

Joe’s laugh immediately stopped, and he looked at you with a serious expression.

“Really?”

“I told you he’s a redneck,” you chuckled. “But I honestly think you’ll be fine. Everyone loves you. You have that affect.”

“I’m just going to be me, darling. It’s never done me wrong before. It got me you, after all.”

“Wouldn’t want you to be anything else, babe.” You kissed him on the cheek as you took the empty plates to the dishwasher. As you were cleaning up after breakfast, Joe’s phone rang. He came out to the kitchen counter where he left it and read the screen. His face sunk and he sighed, seeming a bit annoyed.

“It’s my agent, Kevin. I should take this.” He swiped the screen and put the phone to his ear as you continued cleaning up, listening to his side of the conversation from across the room. “Hello?...Hey, Kevin...yes, I have a moment, what’s going on?...oh, today?...Jesus, what time?...9:00?!...Kevin, that’s in an hour from now...yes, I know...I don’t mind doing it, it’s just, I’m spending some time off with my girlfriend...yes, girlfriend.”

Your eyes widened and you smiled to yourself as your cheeks flooded red, glancing at Joe as he talked on the phone. It was the first time he had called you that, and hearing it was more beautiful and comforting than your favorite song.

“Yeah, the one from the photos...thank you, yes, it’s been lovely to be away from crowds for a bit. We have plans this evening but we haven’t discussed what we are going to do before then...yes, let me talk to her about this first, please, and I’ll text you...alright, bye.”

“Everything okay? What was that about?” you asked, wiping the counters down with a wet washcloth.

“Yeah, it’s just Kevin got a call from Vanity Fair.”

“The magazine?”

“Yeah. They want to do an interview over the phone with me for a last-minute article, but they have to do it at 9 am today.”

“Joe, that’s great! But you don’t seem so thrilled.”

“I am, it’s just I didn’t really want to be doing this stuff when I’m here with you. I don’t want you to feel like you aren’t a priority.”

“I know I’m a priority for you, babe. You’ve already proven that by being here in the first place, but your job is also a priority. This will be so great for you. If you are going to ask for my permission to do a phone interview, you don’t need it.”

“That’s amazing of you to say, love, truly, but you aren’t used to my life and, no doubt yours, being in the public eye. Since our photos got out, they are probably going to ask me about you. I just want to be sure you are comfortable with it. I can say no if you aren’t.”

“Of course, Joe. I knew it was going to happen at some point. It’s just something we will face together. I appreciate you wanting to check on me first, and I am nervous, but your career is important too, and I would never limit you. It’s just an adjustment I need to make, and I know I won’t be making it alone. Do the interview.”

Joe pulled you in for a hug and placed a tender kiss on your forehead.

“I suppose it’s settled then. Thank you, darling.”

“You don’t need to thank me, boyfriend,” you said with a grin and a wink. Joe smiled and blushed, realizing you heard that part on the phone. He stroked your cheek with his thumb and kissed you.

“I could get used to hearing that.”

About an hour later, Joe’s phone rings. You had offered him the computer room for some privacy, but he was adamant that you be present for it so you could hear what was said and decided to sit at the dining room table. You appreciated the transparency, but you knew however Joe answered a question would be respectful and tasteful. You had no reason to think otherwise. Joe answered the phone and put it on speaker, sitting it on the table between you.

“Hello, Joseph. My name is Anne, I’m with Vanity Fair. How are you doing today?”

“Good, and yourself?” Joe responded politely.

“I’m doing good. If you’re ready, we can go ahead and get started.”

“Of course.”

The interview started off with some routine questions that were typically asked - how his quickly growing popularity has changed his life, how he started out, his approach for making Eddie the way he was. Things were going smoothly, and Joe was very talented in coming up with the most well-spoken and articulated answers on the fly. The interview was almost over when the question you both were expecting was asked.

“Alright, final question,” Anne started. “There has been a recent sighting of you with a girl. If you’re up for it, what can you tell us about that?”

You could see the wheels turning in Joe’s head as he waited a moment to form his answer. He smiled at you and winked, sensing your nervousness. He took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, looking back towards his phone sitting on the table.

“I met someone recently. I didn’t expect it at all, and I don’t think she did either. It sort of just happened, but sometimes that’s the best way. Her name is Mack. We’ve been spending some time together and things have been going really well. I really like her, she’s great.”

“That is wonderful, I’m so happy for you! Best of luck!”

“Bless you, thank you!”

The call ended after they said their goodbyes and Joe turned to you, pulling you in for a hug as you let out an exhale of relief.

“Well, no going back now,” you said as he stroked your hair in attempt to comfort you. He let a small smile show, kissing your cheek.

“It will be alright, lovey.”

“I know,” you responded, pulling him in for a tender kiss. “You’ve got me, right?”

“Always.”

The doorbell rang and Jango began barking, running to the entryway door. Jango had an intimidating bark he used when he didn’t know who was at the door, but the bark he was using was his I know you bark, the excited bark. You were wondering who could possibly be here that he would be so excited about, and then it hit you as you looked through the window on the door. Shit.

“Were you expecting someone, darling?” Joe asked, coming up behind you. You looked down at the floor, disappointed and shocked at who you saw at the door. Great, just great.

“No,” you mumbled. Joe looked at you with confusion and leaned to get a peek through the glass as you went to open the door. You stood there, crossing your arms in front of you and staring at the person waiting on the other side – your ex-husband.

Story Master List

[allthingsfangirl101]

The Only Cure–Steve Harrington

Wattpad request by Harringtonswife-

In the eighties, no one talks about their mental health. You're either healthy or insane. I tried talking to my parents about it but my dad doesn't believe in all that "mumbo jumbo". My mom told me it was all in my head and if I stayed there, she'd have to send me to a mental hospital.

The only person who responded in a positive and supportive way was my best friend, Steve Harrington. When I told Steve that I was struggling and wasn't able to fix it or get out of the dark hole I seem to continually throw myself into, he was the one who suggested that I might be struggling with depression. He then wrapped me in a hug and promised that he would always be there to pull me out.

Even though Steve was extremely supportive, I found myself a little hesitant to run to him. After I told him, he slowly started to change. He constantly checked on me, jumped to protect me before anything happened, and eagerly helped me with anything no matter how small.

Our friends didn't notice Steve's change. He always seemed crazily protective of me to them. They aren't wrong, but I've noticed his changes. At lunch, he started draping his arm across the back of my chair.

I was worried our friends would notice and, most importantly, notice how it made my whole face burn. All of that would disappear when I started getting anxious and Steve would move his arm from my chair to my shoulders. I don't know how he always knew when I needed his comfort, but he did. Without fail.

Today was no different. The day started with my alarm not going off and having to get ready in ten minutes. Then my mom's car wouldn't start so my dad had to drop me off at school before he went to work. It only got worse from there.

First period, I could barely stay awake. Second period, I had forgotten we had a math test and I definitely failed it. Then I got paired with the dumbest player on the basketball team for our history project and he was more focused on flirting with me than getting any work done. Now I was heading to lunch.

"Hey, you," Steve said the second I sat down. "You okay?"

"She got paired with Andy for the history project," Carol laughed.

"That sucks!" Tommy laughed.

"I bet he's going to flirt with you the whole time," Carol fake gagged. "Then again. . . He's pretty cute."

"She could do better," Tommy scoffed. "Right, Harrington?"

Steve reached under the table and grabbed my hand. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "If he gives you any problems, tell me."

"Steve," I started but he cut me off.

"I mean it, Y/N. If he says anything that makes you feel uncomfortable or, I swear, if he touches you. . ."

"Dude, chill," Tommy laughed. "He hasn't even done anything yet. They just got assigned today. Wait until next week to kill him."

Steve rolled his eyes and went back to eating without letting go of my hand. He looked over, his eyebrows fluttering in confusion.

"Why aren't you eating?" He asked softly. "Aren't you hungry?"

"I am," I said, clearing my throat.

"Then why aren't you eating?" Steve pushed.

"I was running late this morning and didn't have time to make my lunch," I explained under my breath.

I looked up at him when he pushed his lunch between the two of us.

"What are you. . ."

"Eat," he said.

"But Steve. . ."

"If you think I'm letting my best friend starve, you're crazy," Steve laughed as he ate a grape.

"Skipping lunch is not going to make me starve," I giggled, hiding my blush. I looked away and cleared my throat when I saw Carol's knowing smirk.

"Oh," Steve said in the middle of Carol and Tommy's latest fight. "Dustin wants to know if you're coming to watch their D&D campaign tonight."

"I don't know why you guys spend so much time with those kids," Tommy scoffed. "They're a bunch of little. . ."

"Don't finish that sentence," Steve cut him off, his voice changing. I squeezed his hand that I was still holding under the table.

"So?" He asked as he turned toward me, his tone changing again. "You in?"

"Sure," I shrugged. "Although I'm a little surprised you want to go sit in the Wheeler's basement and watch them play D&D."

"To be honest, I'm not going to watch them play," Steve said, not looking at me.

"Then why are you going?" Carol asked, almost sounding like she knew the answer to that.

Steve looked up and glared at her. He then saw me watching him and softened his glare.

"I'm going to hang out with you," he said, his cheekbones slightly turning pink.

"We hang out all the time," I giggled, eating some of the cheese Steve packed.

"And he just can't get enough," Carol said sweetly.

I looked away when Tommy started to 'aw' but it turned into a gag. I started to let go of Steve's hand, but his hold on mine tightened.

"Do you hear yourself?" Tommy asked harshly. "You two are best friends. You blow us off all the time to be with her. How many times have you skipped a party because Y/N wasn't going to be there? Or she needed someone to help her study. Or that lame excuse you always use that you'd rather spend time with her."

"I would rather spend time with Y/N than with you," Steve said, his anger building.

"You're practically glued to her hip," Tommy scoffed. "I'm surprised she doesn't know that you. . ."

I stood up and quickly ran out of the cafeteria. Steve and Tommy have been fighting a lot more over the years. Each time they start, so does my panic attack. I ran to the bathroom, locking myself in a stall.

A few seconds later, I heard the door open. I held my breath, waiting for them to leave.

"Y/N?" Nancy's voice echoed through the bathroom. "I saw you run in here. You okay?"

When I didn't respond, she added, "Steve's looking for you. He seems really worried. There's no one else in here so I'm sending him in."

I heard soft footsteps walking toward the stall I was hiding in. I looked down and instantly recognized Steve's sneakers. I took a shaky breath when he knocked.

"Y/N," he whispered. "Please open the door."

With shaking hands, I opened it. I instantly wrapped my arms around myself, stepping away from the door.

"I'm sorry about running away," I stuttered under my breath. "You know how I get when you and Tommy start fighting. I hate that it always sends me into a panic attack, but I can't control it."

Steve grabbed my arms and pulled me into his chest. He sighed as he wrapped his arms around me.

"I'm sorry we started fighting in front of you," he whispered. "I just hate how they treat you. It infuriates me when Tommy makes our friendship seem like a joke. Next time, just punch me in the arm and I'll stop."

"I'm not going to hit you," I said with a small giggle. I tightened my arms around him as I added, "I could never hurt you."

                                * * * * *

Over the next couple of days, I struggled with my depression. I started having mini panic attacks every day. Steve caught most of them, and with each one he stopped, a worse one was hiding until he wasn't around.

I woke up today, stuck in my pit of depression. I spent the morning, not able to put a smile on my face. I hid my face behind my textbooks and notes. No one seemed to care. But then again, I don't see Steve until lunch. The class before lunch, I looked down and my hands started shaking. I was starting to have a panic attack and I couldn't stop it.

As soon as the bell rang, I jumped up and left the classroom. "Geez. Slow down, weirdo."

I looked up, my heart jumping into my throat when I saw Carol and Tommy standing in front of me.

"Off to your dear Stevie?" Carol cooed.

"We all are," I mumbled, tightening my arms around my books. "We're going to lunch."

"When are you going to admit that you're obsessively in love with him?" Tommy scoffed.

"What?" I stuttered. "I don't know. . . It's not. . ."

"Aww!" Carol giggled. "It's so cute that she pretends she doesn't know."

"Steve and Y/N, sitting in a tree," Tommy started singing. As they sang the rest of the song, they started dancing around me.

"What are you guys doing?" Steve asked as he ran over. He brushed past Tommy and grabbed my hand, slightly pulling me behind him.

"We weren't doing anything," Carol sighed, rolling her eyes.

"It didn't look like nothing," Steve scoffed. "It looked like you were. . ."

"Stop," I whispered. "Please, Steve. Stop."

"Y/N," he said, turning around to face me. I looked at his soft eyes and then at the knowing, judgy looks of his friends. I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled my hand out of his and turned on my heel.

"Wait!" Steve yelled but I didn't stop.

I didn't stop until I got to my car. I drove home and pulled into my usual spot. I turned off my car with shaking hands. I slowly got out, barely able to get my breathing under control. I froze when I turned and saw Steve jogging up the driveway.

"I told you I was fine."

"I know," he smiled at me. "But I also know the signs that you're stuck in one of your depression episodes. And if I don't act fast, you'll just go deeper into it."

"I don't know why you feel like you have to act," I said, looking down at my feet. Steve stepped toward me and gently lifted my head.

"Because you're my best friend," he whispered. "It's my job."

"Steve. . ."

"I know what I can do to cheer you up."

"Please don't," I sighed.

"Take the old records off the shelf," he started to sing. "I'll sit and listen to 'em by myself. Today's music ain't got the same soul. I like that old-time rock 'n' roll."

I giggled and playfully pushed him. He caught my arm and pulled me into my chest.

"So now are you going to tell me what Carol and Tommy said to you?"

"It's not a big deal. . ."

"Y/N," Steve said knowingly. "Talk to me."

"They were making jokes about me going to find you," I explained. Before he could ask why that would send me into an anxiety attack, I continued, "Then Tommy pointed something out that I realized he was right about."

"What did he point out?" Steve asked.

"That maybe. . . That there's a possibility that I. . . I doubt it's the same for you but. . ."

"Hey," he whispered. He gently wrapped his arms around my waist and smiled down at me. "What did Tommy point out?"

"He suggested," I said slowly, "that I might. . . have feelings for you."

Steve's breath got caught in his throat as he studied me. He loosened his arms, taking a small step back.

"Do you?" He asked under his breath.

"Maybe? I'm not sure, honestly. . . Would it be a bad thing?"

Steve smiled as he reached up and gently cupped my face in his hand. "I guess not," he whispered. "Especially because I might have feelings for you."

"You do?"

I held my breath as he slowly leaned in. He stopped when his nose pressed against mine. I felt lightheaded when his breath touched my face. He slowly leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. The lightheadedness got worse as our lips touched.

"Of course I do," he whispered, breaking the kiss. "Would it be a bad thing?"

"I guess not."

[abnormalityjoseph]

Corey Cunningham • General Headcanons

I LOVE THIS GUY

Oh. Corey. The guy that lives in my head rent free right now? Headcanons for him? Sure.

Totally not like I just finished the novel and was scrambling to throw this out there.

But as for my thoughts on the novel and the movie,,,I like some of the movie’s change in dialogue, but I also feel like the novel gives more..context/insight? Idk how to explain it. Hopefully there’s an extended cut of the movie that I can watch eventually.

•••••

- A very polite and well mannered guy.

-> Well, he tries to be even when the entire town hates him.

- You might have seen my previous post, but I am a FIRM BELIEVER that Corey has some fluffy hair AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

- He’s so??? Emotionally distant towards anybody. If Yk what I mean?

-> [Most definitely terrified of getting emotionally hurt again. Especially with how everyone started to alienate him post-accident.]

-> Oh but he’s really touched starved.

- He may or may not…go a tad bit overboard. With affections towards his friends or a significant other(s).

-> I just think that he may seek physical contact from trusted friends. Platonic actions that would normally be seen a romantic (like hand holding), yk?

- He either gives awkward hugs or really good ones. Never an in-between.

- Corey would be very cautious of somehow stepping on your toes/boundaries. He doesn’t make many friends or ever had a romantic relationship (or generally made many friends—?)

-> Besides, he lost any friends he made after the accident. Because no one wanted to associate with the ‘Psycho Babysitter.’

- Totally would rant about ANYTHING because he doesn’t know social cues or when to stop talking.

-> Or— well, he would rant about his interests and then apologize because he feels like he talked too much. And feel like he just scared away any friend he could’ve made because he wouldn’t shut up.

-> It’s fine though because he would listen to his friends/romantic partner rant for as long as they want to talk. He’s a good listener!

- Might be a bit of a weird one, but I think he’d enjoy Twenty One Pilots and Wilbur Soot’s music. Dunno, just him listening to La Jolla/Saline Solution or Fairy Local makes sense in my head.

-> Also think he’d listen to Ship in a Bottle by fin, but I’ll make a different post for songs. Maybe.

- As for family.. I don’t know, his family life is definitely rough and tense as is.

-Resents his mother for being so overbearing (if that’s the right word for it), but can’t seem to fully hate her because she’s his family.

- He sometimes wonders about his dad, Wally, and if his life would’ve been better with him in the picture.

- He also doesn’t know how to feel about Ronald, his step-dad. He wasn’t really involved in his upbringing, but he’s nicer and way less of an overbearing parent in his life. Yet he still doesn’t do much to stop Joan.

- He doesn’t have social media. That’s probably a given but still.

- I feel like he wouldn’t vent to a friend by text, since Joan can snoop through his phone. He’d rather talk about his problems face to face, so the person can also share their problems as well.

- You know, he saw a psychiatrist for a bit before stopping? I’m assuming that’s the time just after the accident. It’s not a headcanon but it’s just something I noticed while I was reading the novel. It’s on, I think, page 207 on the digital version?

-> “…Mostly he just stayed at home. He had weekly trips to a psychiatrist for a while, but that was it. And this went on for months…”

- Corey may be able to tolerate terrible/mean customers, and the scrutiny or insults that any passerby could give him, but it’ll boil over eventually.

- He used to keep a diary/journal. But Joan (his mom) kept snooping and would find it. Now he can’t keep one in the house.

-> Well— maybe he hides it outside or the house. Maybe nearby the the place he works at.

- I think he doodles. Just on the corners of his notebooks. It’s kinda bad but hey, he never said he was a good artist.

- Post-Accident Corey can’t find that much enjoyment in Horror movies, especially The Thing, after well..you know.

-> Post-Michael Corey can though. He loves horror movies, and doesn’t feel that uncomfortable watching The Thing anymore. Just..fascinated. Over the concept of the creature, I mean. Shapeshifting alien…maybe a slasher movie would be more preferred for him still.

•••••

I… will write more stuff about a romantic relationship with Corey in a different post. And I’ll try to write more about post Michael Corey.

[envygreenwords]

Sirius + Ftm! twin!Reader

Content: reader is sirius’s twin, Trans Reader, Cursing, self hatred, dead naming (not intentional)

Y/N

The feeling of the skirt against my legs makes my skin crawl. why is it so short? why is it so itchy? why can’t i wear pants instead? i hate it. the fabric is slightly grainy and rubs against my legs until they’re over stimulated and feel almost numb. i hate it. i can feel the air on my legs, the other boys in my class like to stare. i. hate. it.

as i’m walking to my next class i see sirius

“D/n!” Fuck. that’s not my name. it doesn’t feel right. i cant do this right now it’s too much. i can feel everything touching my legs and arms and my chest

“d/n hey!” stop talking. please

“hi….um…i’m going to my dorm”

“you can come to ours! i think the other girls are coming too. we’re gonna plan our next prank and-“ i cut him off before he can say anything else.

“sirius i need to go to my dorm. plus a slytherin in the grifindor common room doesn’t seem like a good idea. plus i’m tired.” sirius looks saddened for a minute. shit did i snap at him? i didn’t mean to

“sorry.” i quickly mumble so he can at least know i feel bad. i walk away before any more words can be said, heading for the slytherin common room.

~~~~~~~~~

i wake up in a cold sweat. what time is it? when did i fall asleep? it’s dark out. i just took a nap right? i look at a near by clock and see it’s around 7pm.

fuck i missed dinner. sirius definitely noticed. why did no one wake me up?

i sit up and head out towards the grifindor areas. when i get there i knock on the painting and wait for someone to let me in.

a short girl with brown hair and blue eyes opens the door.

“uh hi. can i come in? im looking for sirius.” she looks down at my robes and then back up to my face. she thinks i’m like them.

“yeah just… don’t touch anything that’s not yours.”

“excuse me?” The girl flinches a bit at my quick words and gives me enough room to squeeze into the room nervously. i’m not that scary am i?

she doesn’t say anything and just looks down. i go upstairs quickly and find the marauders room. it’s a silly name for them.

knocking on the door i mumble, “sirius? it’s me. its-“ i pause. i dont want to say it. i don’t even want to hear it. the door opens and sirius is standing there.

“you weren’t at dinner. i was worried you left or something.”

“i know i’m sorry i just took a nap. do you have any food? i’m starving.” i look down a little. this is a boys dorm. with boys in it. i’m supposed to be in a dorm like this. why can’t i just be normal?

“yeah! yeah come in.”

i look around. ive never been in here before. how have i not been in here before? remus, james, and peter are in here too. they’re all wearing pants. not skirts. i want to be like them. i want to look like them.

“sirius.” i start. what am i doing? “can borrow some pants?” what? what?! what am i saying why did i say that?!

“huh? what do the girls not get any? well that’s uncomfortable.”

“i’m not-“ i shout before i stop myself and realize that i shouldn’t say that. i can’t say it.

“hm? what?” james asks, slightly on edge because of my shout.

“shit…i just…i’m not….a girl…” i mumble the last part. hoping they won’t hear it. fuck, praying even. i shouldn’t have said anything. i shouldn’t have come here i shouldn’t have-

“you’re not a girl?” sirius asks gently. this is a trick isn’t it. it’s something that mom did when she wanted us to hurt the most. when she wanted us to feel weak.

“sirius i-“

“what’s your name?”

“what?” my name?

“what is your name?” he asks, slowing down a little.

“…d/n”

“no. your name. not what ever mom gave you.” oh. a warm tingling feeling bubbles into my stomach. i feel nice.

“…y/n” ive never said it outloud before. it felt like a pin in my stomach got pulled out for the first time ever.

“here’s some pants y/n.” he says with a smile. i take the pants and go to the bathroom quickly. “they’re definitely not going to fit you though so i have a belt for you too.”

putting on the pants felt like taking the first bite of food after being hungry for hours. warm, satisfying, and right.

this is right. i feel right. i walk out of the bathroom with a smile.

“look at you!” remus grins. “you look great!” his words are so genuine and calming.

“thank you.” i mumble, smiling and playing with my shirt.

“now what are we going to do about that hair hm?” oh my hair. it’s definitely making me more feminine. it’s too long and my bangs have grown out.

“are we gonna cut it?” i look up at him as he smirks.

“oh yeah.”

~~~~

when i look at myself in the mirror for the first time with short hair, i’m speechless.

“did i mess it up? what’s wrong?” sirius asks, a worried look on his face.

“i look like reg and you.”

“is that a bad thing?”

“absolutely…..” he frowns. “not! i love it! it’s- i- oh my god.” all i can do is hug him.

“i’m glad you do! i worked hard on it!”

“mothers gonna hate it.” i mumble. l

“oh well. it’s your hair she can cry about it for all i care.”

we’re quiet for a while. not wanting anything to ruin the moment.

“sirius?”

“yeah?”

“thank you.”

“of course y/n.”

——

a/n

this is probably really bad sorry!! please request<3

[dc-and-damirae]

dc characters as quotes from "bnha-more-like-bnh-gay" tumbler user's mental breakdown

damian: it’s fine, my mom just wants me dead I guess lol

———————

beast boy: I don’t need therapy, I have humor 😎

———————

impuls: it’s chill, we’re Gucci

*narrator voice* they were decidedly not chill or Gucci

———————

tim or jason after an anxiety atack: I’m just a ball of,,,,, bleh

———————

dick robin: in theory,, I am funny; but in practice? in practice, I am fucking hilarious

———————

jon constantine: 🎶crying myself to sleep and pretending I don’t exist. This is a myth, and time is just a metaphor🎶

———————

tim: aaaaaand time to write my feelings out in vent fanfiction. Yeehaw motherfuckers, it’s time to cry

———————

jason: my trauma really just pulled up in a Tesla and told me to ‘get in, you sack of shit’

———————

bruce: I swear to whatever, if I don’t finish this homework right now, I will vanish from existence. I’ll just,, poof. Bye bye, dad. No more bruce, just. Disappear, in my little, disappointment. hole

———————

cyborg: I want to edit my life

———————

beast boy on 5 hour energy: so, thanks to doctor who, we know that if you touch your past self, bad things happen. But we don’t know to what extent this is. If you touch something your past self has touched, will bad things happen because you touched the dead skin cells of your past self?

———————

green lantern(hal): I wish I was puppy living lavish lifestyle

———————

steph, for some reason?!: *messes up saying something* yup, good job, steph. Thank you, stephany, I try my best! And yet you’re still a failure. Hahah that’s not funny, that’s just mean 🥲

———————

flash: why do school work when you can just freak out over not doing school work and sit there having a panic attack? Ahahahahah, oh god, someone please kill me

———————

tim: I haven’t slept in so long, and it’s great because my brain is numb and the world is fuzzy. But I’m like, really smart, it doesn’t matter that I fell down the stairs today- it probably didn’t help that I haven’t eaten or drank anything for the last 19 hours, so I’m also really fucking stupid, but in a genius type way-

———————

tarra or supergirl: because I am a ✨material girl✨ I will blow my bank account on stuffed animals, as this is the only way I receive serotonin

———————

manhunter: I haven’t had a hug in years, and you know what? That’s okay. Normalize being touch starved. It’s okay, you depraved freak. There is nothing- there is very little… it’s okay to have things wrong with you. You’re not killing people, you’re fine.

———————

raven and jason: I love this book more than I love myself-which I will admit, is not hard-but still. That should count for something

———————

tim: I have not slept in 53 hours, and you know what? That’s okay. Normalize being unhinged. The dissociation bean juice (coffee) might only make me more tired, but it’s as bitter as my soul, and I feel alive and dead at the same time: the duality of man. How iconic of me

———————

super boy: I just spent three hours staring at a blank page because my writer’s block is stronger than All Might, but you know what? That’s okay. Because I have memes to carry me through the day. When in doubt, meme it out

[bnha-more-like-bnh-gay]

Things I’ve said during mental breakdowns as incorrect bnha quotes, because humor is my coping mechanism part something:

Shouto: it’s fine, my aunt mom just wants me dead I guess lol

———————

Mei: I don’t need therapy, I have humor 😎

———————

Shinsou: it’s chill, we’re Gucci

*narrator voice* they were decidedly not chill or Gucci

———————

Izuku or kaminari: I’m just a ball of,,,,, bleh

———————

Sero: in theory,, I am funny; but in practice? in practice, I am fucking hilarious

———————

Mina: 🎶crying myself to sleep and pretending I don’t exist. This is a myth, and time is just a metaphor🎶

———————

Kaminari: aaaaaand time to write my feelings out in vent fanfiction. Yeehaw motherfuckers, it’s time to cry

———————

Shinsou: my trauma really just pulled up in a Tesla and told me to ‘get in, you sack of shit’

———————

Kaminari: I swear to whatever, if I don’t finish this homework right now, I will vanish from existence. I’ll just,, poof. Bye bye, kaminari. No more denki, just. Disappear, in my little, disappointment. hole

———————

Izuku: I want to edit my life

———————

Izuku: so, thanks to doctor who, we know that if you touch your past self, bad things happen. But we don’t know to what extent this is. If you touch something your past self has touched, will bad things happen because you touched the dead skin cells of your past self?

———————

Kaminari: I wish I was puppy living lavish lifestyle

———————

Toga, for some reason?!: *messes up saying something* yup, good job, Toga. Thank you, toga, I try my best! And yet you’re still a failure. Hahah that’s not funny, that’s just mean 🥲

———————

Mina: why do school when you can just freak out over not doing school and sit there having a panic attack? Ahahahahah, oh god, someone please kill me

———————

Hitoshi: I haven’t slept in so long, and it’s great because my brain is numb and the world is fuzzy. But I’m like, really smart, it doesn’t matter that I fell down the stairs today- it probably didn’t help that I haven’t eaten or drank anything for the last 19 hours, so I’m also really fucking stupid, but in a genius type way-

———————

Mina or toru: because I am a ✨material girl✨ I will blow my bank account on stuffed animals, as this is the only way I receive serotonin

———————

Shouto: I haven’t had a hug in years, and you know what? That’s okay. Normalize being touch starved. It’s okay, you depraved freak. There is nothing- there is very little… it’s okay to have things wrong with you. You’re not killing people, you’re fine.

———————

Momo or izuku: I love this book more than I love myself-which I will admit, is not hard-but still. That should count for something

———————

Shinsou: I have not slept in 53 hours, and you know what? That’s okay. Normalize being unhinged. The dissociation bean juice (coffee) might only make me more tired, but it’s as bitter as my soul, and I feel alive and dead at the same time: the duality of man. How iconic of me

———————

Kaminari: I just spent three hours staring at a blank page because my writer’s block is stronger than All Might, but you know what? That’s okay. Because I have memes to carry me through the day. When in doubt, meme it out

[sweetums0kitty]

Things that I think have Edward Nashton ✨Vibes✨ or like random headcannons for him.

The Early Fall Out Boy albums.

Mainly I think he’d love Take This To Your Grave (he’s big into Tell Mick he just made my list of things to do today) and From Under the Cork Tree (Nobody Puts Baby in the Corner, I Slept with Someone in Fall Out Boy and All I got was this song) and Folie à deux (mans screams 20 Dollar Nosebleed driving home after a murder)

Has a beat up to hell DSI he saved a bunch of money up for. Is the undisputed king of Brain Age. Has that DS game that’s just a bunch of public domain classic books.

The DSI itself is like really beat up from riding around in his book bag. He’s changed the battery multiple times so it’s basically running on spite and coffee fumes! Just like him!

I think Eddie would also be an MCR fan, Mama makes him cry his eyes out. Legit heartbroken when they broke up. Absolutely lost his (already gone) fucking mind when Foundations of Decay came out.

Has a deep buried desire to be loved and held and cared for. Does not know how to express it or attain it. Poor guy is the definition of touch starved.

When he does order food at the diner he keeps it pretty simple. Like a sandwich maybe a BLT if he’s feeling fancy. Mostly it’s pie time bay-bee! Also too much coffee

Pretend to hate Starbucks, says Frappes are just milkshakes with like a drop of coffee in them. Loves to play the Coffee Snob™️. But this motherfucker would inject Pumpkin Spice Lattes and Frappes into his bloodstream if he could!

Speaking of Fall things favorite season right there. He loves Spoopy stuff!

The air getting colder, the leaves changing color, it’s crisper and Gotham is allllllmost a tolerable place to be in. Not when you’re right in the center of the city, that’s dank and nasty. But go to the parks or the outskirts and yeah he can vibe with that.

Is strangely enough a master at hair braiding. He picked up the skill from the Orphanage.

Really loved Roald Dahl books as a kid. Back when he was still innocent and idealistic (before everything went to shit and even a little after in the Orphanage) he would try really hard to see if he had Matilda powers.

Like he’s stand in the bathroom and give himself a migraine trying to flip the switch with his mind. It never worked! 😔✊

Shockingly don’t think he’s an Incel, is he dismissive of other people and outwardly rude? Yes, yes he is! But he just can’t give enough of a fuck about other people to give a shit about who’s having sex and who’s not. Still lonely tho…

I think his parents (to make him sadder, who doesn’t wanna kick around the Blorbo a lil) were/are a Rich Girl who was studying at Gotham University with a Law Degree and the son of her Landlord’s who was also studying. A joint study session or two and they had their little fling and boom! Eddie.

His birth mom is from Metropolis actually! His birth dad disappeared under mysterious circumstances. (Rich Girl’s dad paid him a bunch of money to fuck off out of Gotham and never talk to Ed or his mom ever again)

Neither of them have his last name and his records are hella obscured. Trust me, Eddie tried to find out something, fucking anything.

Rich Girl Mom went on to marry some Rich Boy and she ended up with a MRS. Degree and had two half siblings. She often wonders about him. Saw what happened in Gotham and felt terrible and responsible for how he turned out. Just uh… not enough to like actually reach out and help him.

Eddie hates people but will never be mean to a child. Especially not the children in his building. He likes kids, they’re honest and non-judgmental.

Deep down he still wants a spouse, a nice 4 (one room is his office/man cave) bed and 3 bath house on the outskirts of Gotham with 3.5 kids and Golden Retriever or some shit like that.

Watches/watched too many movies and thinks relationships are supposed to be like a rom-com.

Is in a few Discord servers, has his own for the Riddler but also has like a group of internet geeks he plays D&D and like Jackbox or TF2 with.

He is the D&D Dungeon Master thank you VERY much! When he’s not in charge (he will fight tooth and nail on this) he likes to play Wizards, he’s a classic Elven Wizard guy. Always super high intelligence and Wisdom stats. Has the worst fucking luck on charisma throws, even worse luck when it’s a saving throw.

He had/has friends he just self isolates into a pile of hatred for the world and self loathing so his relationships are shaky.

This dude fucking loves the Sims, Sims 2 is his Nostalgia fave but he really got into the Sims 3 and had played that one the most.

I think he smells nice and doesn’t use like 3 in 1 shampoo. It’s still shit like store brand generic green man soap. But he takes care of his skin and his hair.

Avid wearer of sunscreen, will burn if he doesn’t wear it. Objects majorly to going outside during the summer.

Has one faintly chipped tooth from when he got slammed into a toilet in Middle School.

Was a Library TA in high school. Mainly his senior year since he really didn’t need to take anymore classes other than like an elective (shop class and one more language course. He picked German)

Likes the smell of spearmint, vanilla lotion (especially on a pretty girl), leather, old books and the metallic smell of fresh blood. Also coffee but that was a given.

Can technically cook but chooses not to.

Okay, I really should fucking stop this is already so long. 😖😫 But I love him.

By god I have to add onto this post!

My dude is a raging pansexual, like you all saw how feral he was for Batman.

He has such a weird way of getting crushes on people. One time a cute guy was vaguely nice to him when he got his coffee order and this poor guy already planned out their entire wedding and what they’d name their kids.

Cannot initiate to save his life in those situations. Gets too up in his head and his mean ole brain is like “A you’re disgusting, B. You’re getting distracted from your mission you fucking loser and, C. We gotta circle back to what a gross loser you are.”

If someone showed interest in him he’d short circuit and then assume it was some kind of prank. Please reassure him, he needs it.

As for mental health stuff ima project onto the husband here.

Has BPD, why? The outbursts, getting unhealthy attached to Batman without even knowing him, the mood swings. He just seems like the type.

ADHD my dude lives in organized chaos. Nobody else knows where anything is in his place and that’s how he likes it. He’s got his hyperfixations! Riddles and puzzles being one. Numbers too! He seems like the type of person who would bounce their leg a lot.

Pens are his stim toys, you can bite em, you can tap them, you can click them and they write! 

Tried to go to a gay bar once, he did not make it through the door, mostly sat in his car trying to hype himself up.

Once he got his Riddler outfit tho…. Ooh he was in there and it still freaked him out. Mostly it was him sitting in a corner trying to blend in and lowkey drooling over every hot person that passed him by.

Watched/watched Gravity Falls. He liked Dipper, kinda hates Mabel but not really and full on loves Ford

He’s always hated Harry Potter, thought it was stupid and whenever someone asked him what his house was he’d be like “I don’t have a Hogwarts house because I’m not a child.

Green Apple and Lime are the best flavors fight him.

He used to drink like way too much Monster and other energy drinks but they kinda give him heart palpitations now so he sticks to coffee.

He likes arcades, there’s one that’s been around forever by his place. The folks who own the place are pretty nice to him.

Very pinchable cheeks. You knew tho!

Wears socks in bed! His peets get cold.

[limeinaltime]

Any Uzi/N headcanons you'd like to share?

They haunt me on a regular basis so I guess it’s time I finally explain why

In my mind, it takes a bit for Uzi and N to form a genuine friendship because of trust issues and boundary settings, so the romance part doesn't come until way later because I like my romance slow-cooked and my audience starving

The two at least become some strange equivalent of "business partners who get along" and form a bond of mutual respect and trust

Without realizing it, they toe a line, which kicks the entire mess off

Both are so in denial that it bleeds into obliviousness and everyone suffers for it

Uzi falls first, and both fall equally hard

The "Oh. Oh." moment would be so delicious

Uzi hates that she doesn’t hate N at first, and that he makes it so hard to hate him as she gets to know him better. How this guy is a literal murderer is lost on her.

After a lot of angsting, toeing lines, misunderstandings, denial, miscommunication, pining and yearning, they finally decide to give a relationship a try, to the relief of everyone

Neither of them have ever been in a relationship so all this stuff is nerve-wracking and awkward and neither one knows what they're doing, but figure they've made it this far together, so they're down with winging it

N is the ideal cuddle partner for big spoons and little spoons alike. He's a heater and a weighted blanket all rolled into one. As long as you don’t have skin.

Touch-starved Uzi is real it’s so real guys

Premarital hand-holding how scandalous oooo 😳

Kissing is hard because Uzi is Short™ and N is Tall™ and has a bunch of pointy bits that get in the way but they figure it out

N makes Uzi smile. Like, genuinely smile. No one’s been able to do that since her mom died. It’s painfully ironic and Uzi knows this.

Despite the fanart I draw of them, I don’t really see them as a super lovey-dovey couple, more like roommates who are really good friends who would probably die for each other and make out on the side when they think no one will find out. That being said, N’s definitely toeing the line a little but Uzi’s not complaining.

All jokes aside, I like to think that Uzi and N do make each other happy no matter what their relationship turns out to be because honestly I love the angsty edgelord/lovable goof duo trope but it’s kind of grown stale for me because the angsty edgelord being mean to the lovable goof is always played up for laughs which makes me go 😬

Also I personally headcanon them both as bi disasters

[robot-breakfast]

Okay. Okay. Okay. This might be an incomprehensible series of rambling and I think I might be the only one that ships this but hear me out. I kind of just thought of it so it might be half baked but I’ve been rattling them in my brain for like 2 days now. Scout’s a guy who is an enabler of stupid shit if it means it’ll get a few laughs with a mouth that runs a mile a minute, whereas Sniper is a recluse with minimal social skills who defaults to quietly listening and being a professional™ because he’s a little unsure what else to do and ,on the other hand, we have Miss Pauling. And she is a friggin nerd. an absolute dork. Sure, she’s professional™ like sniper but she’s only slightly less socially awkward, like when she tries to awkwardly crack jokes and do impressions of the mercs’ voices when giving them contracts.  I view Pauling as being a middle ground between the Scout and Sniper sort of. Sure, she’s stern when she’s under a lot of stress and I know that the fandom likes to portray her as the team mom exclusively but CMON. Despite her high work load, she’s completely down to DM DND campaigns with the mercs, a member the Teufort bookclub and gets excited over Shakespeare reenactments in the park. She’s a professional dork that’s able to loosen up a little. And Scout ,a man with no impulse control (and he himself has a borderline nerdy interest in Tom Jones) ,egging her on is endlessly cute to me.

Although I doubt she’d infodump about her interests like Scout does, Sniper is perfectly willing listen to both of them talk his ears off if given the chance. Speaking of Sniper and Pauling, from what we hear about Pauling and Sniper’s ‘vision quest’, I feel like they’d make a good blunt rotation?? Like if Pauling had more free time she’d be down to chill and smoke a blunt with sniper.

Scout is always physically affectionate, ready to hug Sniper and Miss Pauling at any given notice, and since they’re both touch-starved they absolutely melt. (Side note: If you think Sniper is touch-starved, Miss Pauling is a whole ‘nother level. At least Sniper has his family, which is something Miss Pauling doesn’t have)

Miss Pauling definitely struggles with basic self-maintenance like eating and sleeping properly ,and since Sniper is a little awkward at being verbally or physically affectionate, he’ll help to lighten her workload by driving where she needs to be and helping her bury dead bodies to spend more time with her. Once they’re more closer though, he’ll let her sleep in his van and tuck her into bed while he sleeps on the floor. And getting up early to forage for stuff he can use to make a decent breakfast for the both of them

And okay this is a random thought but although Scout thinks of Pauling as ‘classy’ so way out of his league, but  honestly the girl doesn’t know her wines at all. Wouldn’t be surprised if she never has the time to cook and has been subsisting on cheap takeout for years up til this point.  And I’m just imagining scout and her casually going out to get fried chicken when possible kinda like that scene from the Simpsons some enchanted evening where they go to the drive through in fancy clothes and dance dorky in the car. Or better yet, scout learning how to cook (this manchild has also been subsisting off of cheap take out for years) and actually making Miss Pauling a nice meal for once. Though since she’s busy she’s making calls for contracts while eating, but lets scout know how much she appreciates him

(Admittedly I talk more about Miss Pauling’s dynamics with scout and sniper + Miss Pauling in general as opposed to Sniper and scout’s dynamic. I want to elaborate more on my brain rot but I might just send an ask about this or just make my own tumblr post about it idk. Thanks for listening to my Sniper x Scout x Miss Pauling manifesto) 

[aparticularbandit]

Worth

bruh brendan is still around but he won’t be very long

Brendan doesn’t stay very long.  Something about midterms and having a huge essay due in a few days and his ride is only down for the weekend so he has to go back, and while Agatha brings up that it must be worthwhile to try and write the essay here where he isn’t distracted, Brendan proceeds to…do absolutely nothing while he is there. Agatha bites her tongue.  Eve is sick.  She will not make things worse while Eve is sick.  She repeats that to herself multiple times while Brendan is there.

I will not make things worse while Eve is sick.

The only time Agatha trusts Brendan for anything – and even then, the word trust is a little sketch – is when she has to leave to get clothes and food. She’s worn the same outfit for maybe three days straight, and Eve is commenting on the smell, and Brendan isn’t commenting on the smell, but Brendan makes a face whenever he sees her, whenever she walks past, and Eve probably can’t even smell her in the first place because her nose is that stopped up.  (The singular benefit of being sick, in this case.)  But the food in Eve’s pantry is going quick – in part because there’s only so much Eve can keep down right now (although that is getting bigger and bigger every day), but also in part because Brendan eats everything.  It’s like they don’t feed him at that college of his (and Agatha knows better – college dining halls have everything you could ever want on a bad day – if Brendan is starving, that’s because he isn’t eating – and she should ask, but she refuses.  He’s eating here, which means he’s fine).

~

Give me your phone.

Brendan stares up at her over his plate of mashed potatoes – he’d complained that they were bland, but bland is what his mother can eat – and gives her a stare.  How about…no.

Agatha grabs the phone from where it rests on the table next to him before he can pull it out of her way.

Hey!

I asked nicely.  Agatha scrolls through the pictures he’s left open – a lot of nudes.  A lot of nudes, none of which do anything for her and half of which she highly suspects he shouldn’t even have anymore – and then flips over to his contacts.  Half of which – surprise, surprise – also have nudes for their profile pics.  Your pictures suck, dude.

Brendan grabs for his phone.  Hey!  That’s mine!  Those are private photos!

Agatha holds his phone aloft and walks into the kitchen with it.  Hopefully none of these people will ever call when Eve can see his phone.  Even if they do, she knows well enough that Eve will never say anything.  She takes a deep breath in.  I will not make things worse while Eve is sick, she thinks as she adds her number into his phone, snaps a pic of the mashed potatoes for her profile (she does not want to know what he would add if she didn’t add something herself), and then sends herself a text.

Her phone vibrates just as Brendan reaches over her shoulder – much too close for comfort, she can feel him against her back – and grabs his phone.

I will not.  make things worse.  while Eve.  is sick.

Agatha takes a deep breath and then elbows him in the stomach instead of elbowing him in the groin like she really wants.  She releases his phone in the same movement and deftly, deftly moves away from him.  Don’t touch me without my permission.  Ever.  Her eyes scan him, doubled over, and she crouches down in front of him so that she can meet his eyes.  Do you understand me, Brendan?

Brendan just glares at her.

I was nice, dear, Agatha purrs, tapping his chin.  I only hit your stomach.  I could have gone much lower, hon.

You stole my phone, Brendan croaks out.

Because you didn’t give it to me!  Agatha’s eyes widen in feigned shock.  I didn’t delete any of your pictures; I just added my number.  So that you could call me.  Her voice grows tighter.  If anything – and I mean anything – happens to your mom.  She pats his cheek.  Got it, hon?  She taps the phone.  I’m the one with food as a profile pic.  Her phone vibrates again, and she straightens.  Yes, yes, I know, I did just get your text.  She starts to walk out of the kitchen.  Good for me.

Brendan takes another breath in, deep, rasping, and says, Will you get me some cereal?

Agatha blinks and glances back at him.  Get you what?

Cereal?  Brendan stumbles back to his chair and sits down on it, breathing hard.  Can you get me some cereal, you fucking bitch?

Language, dear.  Agatha gives him a smile, all teeth and no mirth.  What’s the magic word, hon?

Brendan glares at her.  Can you get me some cereal, you fucking bitch, please? he says through gritted teeth.

Agatha tilts her head to one side, stares at him, considers, taps her cheek with one long, slender finger.  I’ll think about it.

She hears Brendan mutter, Bitch, under his breath as she walks away.  Good.  Hate is probably the best response in this situation.

~

Home doesn’t feel like home anymore.

Anymore, as if it’s felt like home at all in the past few months, as if it was ever about the place to begin with.  Sometimes home is a place, and sometimes home is a person, and her home died when Cian did.  Home, homes, either, or, both.  Eve or not, Agatha still floats adrift.  Eve’s house is not her house, this house was always Cian’s, even though she’d been content to share it, and her mother’s house—  Well, it should be on the market sooner rather than later, so no, it isn’t hers either.  And in terms of people—

Three months is not enough time to carve a hole for herself in another person – or—

I love you, I’m sorry, I love you—

It’s enough to carve a space in Eve but is not enough to feel comfortable filling it.

Filling other holes, yes, but not—

Agatha pushes a hand through her dark hair and steps inside her house that is no longer a home.  It’s quiet. That isn’t Cian’s fault; the house has been quiet since before their death, but at least then, for the most part, it was a comforting quiet.  This is silence.  Hallowed, hollowed, a hole where happiness once dwelt but has absconded for better—

She slips her shoes off next to the door.  Cian’s hospital cot remains in the living room where she’d left it, the couch next to it covered in the sheets and blankets she’d used when she’d slept there – when she still sleeps there, when she’s here and not with Eve.  She notices this the way she always does, and she ignores it the way she’s forced herself to do in the past few months.

No clean clothes in the dryer.  Nothing hanging nearby.  Her teeth grit together.

Their bed is the same way she left it when Cian died.  Cian’s pillow still holds the imprint of their head, turned to face her.  They’d wanted that, in the end, to sleep in their own bed.  To final sleep in their own bed. Agatha hated it, hated sleeping knowing that Cian expected to be dead in the morning, hated waking and checking their breathing just the same as she had in the living room, hated curling up against their thin – so thin – form and trying to warm them up the way they’d always warmed her up, they’d always been shivering, shivering, shivering until they…until they weren’t.

Agatha pulls one of Cian’s shirts out of their dresser, holds it to her face, and smells it.  Sage.  Oak. Hints of something fruity that she always thought was spiced pear but had never quite been able to pin down. Something sweetly acidic.  She breathes deeply in the scent of them and then gently places the shirt back in the dresser, closing it again. Eventually, that scent will fade. She knows that.  She knows that.

But she needs it right now.  Not often, not as often as in the days immediately after their death, when she’d pulled on their old clothes and slept in them, slept in the scent of them because it was the only way she could sleep, but…still.  Often enough.

The shower is warm.  Soothing. Familiar.  She stands under the spray, closes her eyes, and breathes. Cian’s soap is still in the corner. She doesn’t touch it.  Her own is good enough for now.

She collects what she needs in a small overnight bag – the sort she’d intended to use on the business trip she’s rescheduled – and pauses just long enough in entryway for her eyes to flick to a conspicuously empty spot on the mantle, a circle on the wood surrounded by dust, just large enough for a missing urn.

Her lips press together.  She leaves and locks the door tight behind her.

~

The call comes while Agatha stands on the cereal aisle, trying to determine which one would piss Brendan off the most while still technically doing exactly what he wanted (Shredded Wheat is the most likely at this point, although she hasn’t quite decided).  But as soon as her phone begins to vibrate, Agatha moves.

What’s wrong?

The number isn’t one she recognizes, which means it’s Brendan because she doesn’t give her number out and she’s never gotten a spam call once on this phone.

Nothing.  Nothing’s wrong.

His voice is not endearing.  It’s frustrating.

Agatha grits her teeth together.  If nothing’s wrong, then why did you call me, hon?  I’m in the middle of something.

Yeah, yeah, I know.  Brendan is probably smiling.  He’s probably pushing his hand through his hair.  Stupid boy.  Just wanted to check and see if your number worked. You got my cereal right?

I would have if you hadn’t called me for no reason.

Brendan groans.  Man, can’t you just go back for it?

There are consequences for your actions, hon—

Mom would get it—

I’m not your mom—

She’ll be disappointed if you don’t get it—

If she believes you over me.  Agatha’s teeth grit together.  She glances at the checkout lines.  All of them are far too long, even the self-checkout lines, which usually go a little faster than the others.  Great. How’s she doing, kid?

Huh?

Your mom.  Agatha rolls her eyes.  How is your mom doing?

Oh, she’s fine.  I think she’s still taking a nap or something.  I haven’t seen her in a while.  There’s a pause.  He’s walking somewhere, Agatha can hear it in the background, can hear a door creak.  Yeah, she’s still napping.  She’s doing fine.  Don’t know why you’re so worried.

Agatha’s teeth grit so hard together that her jaw aches.  She was in the hospital, Brendan—

Yeah, but that doesn’t explain why you’re so worried, you know?  The sound of a chair as he sits.  Like, I’ve never met you before, and you’re just here, and you took Mom to the hospital, and you’re just – whatever you are.  I guess. What are you?

A friend.  Agatha says it without thinking, without trying to put any more weight or detail to that than she expressly needs.  She doesn’t want to put another word to it.

Friends don’t look at Mom the way you do.  Brendan groans.  Ugh, that’s so gross.  Just, like.  I didn’t say that.

Yes, you did, hon.  Agatha sighs and turns away from the checkout lines, back to the cereal aisle.  We’re just friends, Brendan.  Very good friends.  Have you met all of your mom’s friends?

No, Brendan admits, but most of the really good ones.  She would’ve mentioned you, I think.  He hesitates.  None of her other friends are here.

Amanda came by yesterday.  Agatha scans the cereal boxes again.  You just missed her.

Don’t know her either.

You’re hopeless, hon.  Agatha presses a hand to her forehead.  What cereal did you want?

What, you’re serious?  Can I get, like, all of them?

Agatha rolls her eyes.  No.

Mom would let me get all of them.

No, she wouldn’t.

Brendan chuckles.  Yeah, you’re right.  She wouldn’t.  He starts to specify one of the overly sugary, overly flavored cereals that are really no good for anyone, and then he stops.  Hesitates.  Actually, can you get some Cheerios?  Those are Mom’s favorite.  She used to add bananas and sugar to mine after….  His voice trails off.  I like the honey nut ones better, but I think she used to get the plain ones.

Agatha listens.  Considers. Do you need anything else, kid?

No.  Brendan doesn’t say anything for a second, almost like he’s thinking, then he repeats it. No.  That’s it. I’ll, uh.  I’ll let you go now.  Thanks for humoring me.

Agatha shoves her phone back into her pocket, takes a deep breath, and pulls both boxes of Cheerios down, just in case.  Then, on second thought, she takes a box of that stupid sugary, overly flavored cereal Brendan mentioned, too.

Just in case.

~

Brendan leaves the next morning.  He stays long enough for breakfast, slicing bananas into two bowls of Cheerios and bringing one to Eve, smiling over a gentle discussion, before he goes.

~

A few hours after Brendan departs, Agatha gently scrubs Eve’s back where she sits in the tub.

I can really do this myself, Eve murmurs, soft, as she holds her hair over one shoulder.  I’m not that sick.

Agatha hums softly.  This isn’t because you’re sick, hon.

Oh.  Eve nods slow.  It’s a good thing I’m enjoying this, then.

That’s the point.

Moments pass, interspersed, once, with an occasional low moan of contentment before Agatha stops.  Eve glances back and asks, her voice still soft, Can you carry me back to bed?  Before Agatha can respond, she continues, Like with the lift.  You can carry me, can’t you?  I’m not too….  Her voice trails off, and her gaze drops, hands plopping hopelessly in her bathwater.

No.  Agatha leans over and presses a kiss just above Eve’s shoulder blade.  You would never be, hon.  She runs her nose along her back, up her neck, before moving away.  Towel first. I wouldn’t want to drop you, babe.

Of course.  Of course.

Eve stands slow, steps from the tub, water dripping down her back, and lets her hair fall back into place.  For a moment, Agatha just stares at the slope of her spine, at the gentle curve that starts hidden under the softer curves of her hair then skims between her shoulder blades and ends in the larger curve of her ass.  Then Eve glances over her shoulder, catches Agatha staring, and grins. What do you think?  She holds her hands out to either side.  Hot enough for you?

Always.

Agatha’s eyes travel slowly back – from the curve of Eve’s ass, up her spine – until she meets Eve’s eyes.  Eve takes a sharp breath in, and Agatha wonders, brief, what she sees.  She steps forward and wraps a soft white towel around her and, despite knowing that Eve doesn’t need any help, slowly, gently, begins to towel her off.  When her hands move from Eve’s breasts to her waist, Eve catches them, holds them in place. Agatha moves closer and rests her head on Eve’s shoulder.  Eve turns just enough to press a kiss to her cheek.  Thank you, she murmurs, for taking such good care of me.

This is nothing, hon.  Agatha draws Eve closer to her, flush against her.  She tries not to think of Cian, thinner, so much thinner, frail with bones of air in her arms; tries not to remember how she’d shivered against them, trying desperately to hold them together, to ground them where they were; tries not to bury her face in Eve’s back the way she’d buried it in theirs, sobbing for what she’d known – she’d known – she was losing because Cian had never hidden that from her.  She doesn’t feel like sobbing right now.  It’s nothing.

Yes, it is.  Eve runs her fingers in circles on the back of Agatha’s hands.  Can we go to bed now, please?

There’s no question of whether Agatha will be joining her or not.  Other than the brief hours the day before, Agatha has not left.  She has no intention of leaving.  Not yet, anyway.

Agatha’s hands shift, one moving down the slope of Eve’s back to just below her ass, the other moving further up to her shoulder blades, and she crouches down, shifting her until she holds Eve gently in her arms.  Then she straightens.  Eve curls against her chest, tucking her head just against the crook of Agatha’s neck.  You’re very strong, she murmurs, brushing her nose against Agatha’s skin.

You’re still sick, hon.

I’m not that sick.  Eve presses a kiss against her skin.  I’m getting better.  And I miss you.

I’m right here.

You know what I mean.

Agatha gently lowers Eve onto the bed, but Eve lifts up to kiss her.  She’s slow – thorough – and Agatha leans down to her almost instinctively.  Eve stops, brushes her nose against Agatha’s, fingers curling against her collarbone, and whispers, Just…be gentle with me, okay?  I’m not—

The words echo through Agatha’s mind, but they aren’t in Eve’s voice, they’re in her own.

Be gentle with me, okay?

And Cian, responding, Always.

Agatha flinches.

Eve hesitates.  She skims one hand along Agatha’s cheek.  Are you okay? she asks, searching Agatha’s eyes. You went somewhere.  Where did you go?

A memory, Agatha murmurs.

When Agatha leans down to kiss her, Eve stops her, places a finger over her mouth. You’re overdressed for the occasion, and me in a towel.  Her brows raise.  Couldn’t you…?  Her gaze flicks to Agatha’s shirt, her pants, and then back up.

Agatha slowly pulls her shirt off, smiles easy as Eve’s pupils widen.  Her stomach muscles tighten as Eve’s hands – warm, still, from the bath – trace along her waist as she unbuttons her pants. This is easy.  This part is always so easy.

And as Agatha leans atop Eve again, runs a hand through her hair; as Eve’s fingers skim around, curl against the skin of her back, Eve murmurs, as she had before, I love you, her voice soft. I love you so much.  Then she flinches, eyes moving from Agatha’s body, up to meet her eyes, quickly, quickly.  I’m sorry, she murmurs, voice even softer. You don’t want to hear that.

Agatha leans down and kisses her, feels the soft moan against her lips more than she can hear it, then moves to kiss gentle, gentle against the edge of Eve’s jaw.  Now, hon, she murmurs, when did I say I didn’t want to hear that?

Eve takes a sharp gasp in, and her fingers start to push through Agatha’s hair. I love you, she says again, and Agatha’s heart aches.  She draws Agatha over to her.  I love you, she says again before kissing her, pausing just enough to meet her eyes, to say it so close that her lips move against hers, I love you.

And Agatha still doesn’t say it back, only brushes her nose against Eve’s, kisses her again.  The words do not come.  She is not sure when – or if – they ever will.  Her lips move along Eve’s neck as the other woman tilts her head back, free hand moving to unclasp her bra as her leg moves against hers.

This is what this means, Agatha hears and thinks, that you have decided I am worthy of you.

(Does that mean I’m worthy of you? her own voice, so small, eyes searching, confused.

You don’t need to do this to be worthy of me, Cian murmurs, hands on their knees.  You have always been worthy of me.)

Agatha’s hand skims along Eve’s skin, the flinch as she traces the sensitive skin along her waist, the sharp intake of breath and unstifled moan as she cups her ass, as she squeezes.

Her name on Eve’s lips sounds like the sweetest of wine.

This is the gift, Agatha thinks.  I have decided that you are worthy, and the gift that I give is myself.

(Are you giving yourself to me, too? her own voice, still just as small, but with understanding, with longing.

And again, Cian’s response: Wholly.  Completely.)

Agatha’s lips move to where Eve’s leg reaches her hip, and Eve’s hand tightens hard in the thick of her hair, and she isn’t murmuring it anymore, she isn’t whispering it anymore, it’s this loud, whole desperation – Fuck, I love you, I love you, fuck, Agatha, I—

And in her mind, only, always – This is the gift.

I have decided that you are worthy.

This is the gift, and the gift that I give is myself.