#touched starved

[giulzart]

My style changed a lot and I don’t know if it fits, but I had to draw them after playing the demo.

Also… hi, it’s been a while

[secretthegriffin]

A MOST RESTFUL NIGHT

summary: crosshair often fights his exhaustion, but tonight proved to be a little bit more difficult...

pairing: crosshair / fem! jedi ( can be seen as reader as they're unnamed)

A/N : so this is basically an excerpt from a story I'll never finish. I don't usually post what I write but I felt this is special. I also would like to point out I am in no way shape or form a professional writer so I'm sorry if there's mistakes but anyways this is mostly in cross' pov. and its super fluff. with softie and slightly touched starved cross. so no warnings. :)

He sat alone in the darkness of the shuttle. All of his crewmates have been asleep for some time now so the ship was especially quiet. He held his fire-puncher with his supplies, ready to relax and clean the weapon. Most of the time his rifle hardly needed it. Alas he cleaned the damn thing so much though it turned habitual. Often avoiding sleep entirely he would indulge himself with said habit until complete exhaustion. It is so cleaning his rifle, he found himself entirely lost in the activity. He didn't even notice the hesitant figure approaching him from the shadows of the ship.

"How can you see? Its so dang dark" she sighed.

Almost startled, he looked up from the gun speechless. There the jedi stood as breathtaking as ever, standing before him.

"I don't need the light, I can see in the dark". He replied sarcastically.

Avoiding the jedi's sleepy eyes, he took her in. she wore her regular jedi robes, except she had a tightly fitted tank and shorts on as if she threw the robes over her sleep wear.

"figures" she yawned stretching her hands above her to the ceiling. cross was thankful it was dark, she wouldn't see his hawk like eyes devour every inch of her as she stretched. From her pretty face and soft curves down to her beautiful breasts and long smooth legs. Cross would be lying to himself if he said she wasn't attractive. Maker, she was down right the most stunning jedi cross had ever laid his eyes on. He keenly watched as she carefully made her way through the dark to the opposite side of the sofa he sat on. yawning once more she gestured to the rifle.

"Well, go on" she proclaimed.

"What?" He was taken aback a bit to be honest.

"Don't let me stop you from cleaning the damn thing". Gesturing once more to the rifle, but with a smile.

That damn smile. It made cross's heart flutter a bit. She could never know what she does to him. She made him felt things one never thought could exist. He hated it. Hated she made him felt this way. And yet. He hated how much he loved it. oh so much. With heat rising to his face, he smirked. going back to his business. Basking in the warm feel of her watchful eyes as he silently cleaned the weapon. He didn't quite understand why she watched. But he also didn't really care. He loved the idea of being the very object of her interest in this moment.

"Its soothing". She whispered. as if reading his mind.

"Excuse me?" He whispered back.

"The noise. Watching you...its.. Meditating" she hummed, closing her eyes.

"hmm". He didn't really know what to say, she must be especially tired.

"Can I get a better view?" Her bold question surprised cross a bit, making him stop suddenly to directly look at her.

"What do you mean?"

She huffed. her cheeks going pink as she smiled at him again, turning his insides to mush.

"Like this". She lifted his arm off his lap and gently adjusted herself to lay across his lap so her head rested on his thigh, looking at the rifle and his hands.

"Now I can watch closely and comfortably." she said quietly lifting her hands to snuggle between her head and his thigh.

"If I didn't know any better, sweetheart, I'd think you're looking for a different kind of entertainment tonight". He teased with a chuckle. Though he was not so subtly trying to hide the fact he was entirely flustered by the closeness. He couldn't take his eyes off her beautiful face. The warmth of her body on his thighs sent shivering chills through his body. Maker what he wouldn't give to wrap his arms around her and pull her closer to him, into his lap.

she giggled at his response but playfully smacked his leg.

"shut up. now c'mon, I'm trying to meditate." she insisted.

Looking down onto the gorgeous jedi, Cross gladly went back to his rifle, but not without a stupid smug smile on his face.

She watched intently as his skillful fingers cleaned the rifle. His hands were so carefully delicate as he took the weapon apart. She was surprised the mean marksman could care enough about something to treat it so. Watching as if he was an artist, it relaxed her. Sighing as she slowly fell asleep to the soft clanking of the metal.

As soon as Cross noticed she was soundlessly asleep, he thanked the stars for such a moment. His gun long forgotten, Cross silently studied her features and the gentle rise and fall of her chest. She looked so gorgeously peaceful and so serene. and so perfect against his lap.

"Mesh'la". He breathed. Gently brushing loose strands of hair from her face. His hands trembled as he ever so lightly with the tips of his fingers traced her face. they ached to reach out and hold her, but he could never let himself do that. After some time she began softly snoring. So with a tired and heavy sigh Cross tucked his arms under her, lifting her to his chest bridal style. He slowly and carefully made his way to her bunk. Softly laying her against the cot. But as he turned to go to his own cot, her hand reached out to his wrist stopping him.

"Do you wanna lay with me?" she whispered. She sounded so tired, and so beautiful. Cross sighed another heavy sigh, he too was tired. hesitating, he slid next to her, not touching her, but sitting awkwardly just next to her. He eyed her as she lazily curled herself next to his side, falling back to sleep. for a moment he thought about going to his own bed. until she reached out in her sleep, wrapping her arm across his chest to snuggle into his side. cross's heart completely stumped. He completely gave into his feeling he was never going to beat, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close to him as possible. He curled into her, almost melting. Soaking in the warmth of everything her. He felt so undeniably comfortable, he wished the stars this wasn't a cruel dream. As he held her tighter to his chest he succumbed to the drowsiness he'd been avoiding for so long. Loosing another internal battle. Falling oh so deeply into a blissful slumber.

-----the end---- <3

[twinklesucksx]

DOUBLE EDIT WOWWWWWW?!!?!!

‼️‼️❗❗‼️❗‼️‼️❗❗

The pookies!

[twili--link]

To those who play dating sims / visual novels where you can make the Main Character, what would your character be like if roles were reversed and they were the one to romance? What route would your character be?

What tropes / other writing devices would you use for them?

And what kind of endings would they give you?

[catherinekal]

I need cuddles

[itzz-salem]

it’s incredibly rude that I do not have anyone to cuddle rn

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Day 20 Touch Starved

Several Days late for day 20 of whumpril

the original day 20 developed so much I didn't think it fit anymore.

So here's more Mother's son, from Dahlia Pov so not a positive review of Esther's mothering skills.

----

It takes Dahlia months to realise that the reason her son stills at her touch isn’t solely due to her actions claiming him or the nasty overreaction she had left on Elijah’s mind.

She couldn’t have her child, the boy Esther had made hers, call her sister that, Esther didn’t deserve a child she betrayed to call her mother. Dahlia would be better but still her anger had powered her magic and shaped the spell in a way that had been admittedly harsher than she had planned.

The boy himself had adapted quickly and in response, took to answering any and all of her questions about his family and life in short one word answers forcing her to use the precise wording to learn what she wanted.

Still Freya’s glare everytime Elijah cried out and gripped his head, when he mistakenly used or thought of the wrong word to refer to Esther or herself, had only left her angrier at Esther.

That anger and bitterness grew as she learned that Elijah’s stillness happened around all adults, that even Freya’s frequent surprise hugs caused Elijah to freeze for a moment.

It easy to link Elijah’s wariness around men to the bute Esther chose, and her rage at the idea of that man laying hands on her son was the only thing that eclipsed her disappointment at her sister. The woman who had bargained her firstborn away to have children had seemingly failed to care for all those that she got.

Was Elijah’s issues something only he had developed, had she pointedly kept her distance from the child she had made Dahlia’s, was it solely due to Elijah’s resemblance to her but Dahlia doubted that after all her sister had left a fourteen year old, nine year old and five year old to wander far from home alone, after all.

Elijah viewed praise with confusion and almost distrust, even as she made sure she regularly complimented him as he followed her instructions and learned control with a rigid unwavering focus she wouldn’t have expected of a child his age. 

Far quicker than she had expected when he magic had multiplied at their first touch as their family magic realised that Elijah being her son made him a first-born and delivered the magic he was due. Taking Elijah from barley having enough magic to count as a tapped witch to equaling Freya a few years ago, the shock had been useful to convince Elijah of offer himself and his magic to her, allowing her to add his magic to hers and Freya’s before she had even returned to her niece, but she had been annoyed at the thought of spending years training the boy control.

Elijah was just as unused to any physical affection aside from that she assumed of his younger siblings. He hadn’t hesitated or flinched from tiny Niklaus as she had watched that day, but when she laid an hand on his shoulder or carefully, somewhat stiffly, it had been a while since she had needed or wanted to offer comfort to another, pulled him into a hug he was tense for several moments before he relaxed.  

She also noted the way he hugged Freya back tighter on the times he froze, held on longer, that sometimes he followed her as she drew back, unconsciously following her touch.

Dahlia had felt the way his hands trembled to stop himself reaching back to hold her too, torn between his obvious want for comfort and quiet resentment towards her.

Elijah may never lover her, his first memory of her was as she tormented his older brother and threatened his younger one before stealing him away, she herself had linked herself to pain in his mind. But she was going to undo the damage Esther’s neglect had done.

—--

Elijah hated the way he leaned into mother’s touch, the way even as he reminded himself why he should hate her; he worked to impressed her, to make her proud for the brief gentle touch he got in reward, a hand on his cheek or though his hair, the press of lips to his forehead or stiff awkward hug.

It wasn’t like he was completely staved of positive touch, Freya was always there with a hug or offering her hand, she'd play with his hair and trust him with hers.

Freya was his sister, no matter what the truth of that was, but Dahlia was giving him the attention he had longed for from mother, what he had watched her do with Finn and Klaus and wondered why he never got the same.

Well he knew why now, didn’t he.

He still couldn’t let himself give in, she made sure he couldn’t call her anything but mother but he couldn’t forget how he came to her; not after the last time he saw his brothers, Finn still on the ground recovering from her making him scream and the last thing Elijah heard was his little brother, his Klaus crying begging him to come back.

[companionofthetimelords]

[aldruiel-scribbles]

~ Low quality memes of a crossover that I might write ~

[leonsbunny]

Death Island!Leon calling me his bunnydoll/bunny and stroking my hair rn would fix me tbh

[hostess-of-horror]

T…

Touch starved saltbaker and his s/o 👀?

You got it, anon!

You and the Touch-Starved Saltshaker

Content Includes: Major DLC Spoilers

Seeing him be sent away by the cops was, by far, the worst experience you have ever had.

Although Chef Saltbaker had put the blame entirely on himself, saving you from the dire consequences as his partner in crime, you were punished in the form of almost never seeing him again.

So, when the day came that Chef Saltbaker finally came back, you cried tears of joy and so did he.

For months on end, he had never felt a single loving touch. Finally returning from community service and being in your arms was heaven to him.

With the bakery re-opened and life beginning anew, Chef Saltbaker never really left your side most of the time. You never complained, for you knew, and gave him as much attention as you could.

Whether it be having his head on your lap while stroking his head or snuggling up against him, Chef Saltbaker didn't care as long as you were there with him.

He wasn't always the receiver, however. You got attention yourself, as you were just as touch-starved. His absence from your world left you alone but strong. You remained faithful, never giving up on your love for him.

It didn't take much for the two of you to immediately go weak for one another. A single touch would make both of you melt, slightly shivering in your core, and drop everything just to hold each other again.

Time passes on, and one day the whole town received such incredible news: you and Chef Saltbaker were expecting! (Or, you decide to adopt Chalice as your daughter!)

[tessatales]

Touch Starved Series: ✨Wanda✨

Wanda x F!reader

Warnings: Non, touch starved Wanda (duh)

Theme: touchStarved!Wanda, you help, sad girly, she needs all of the love, comfort. Vision isn’t dead- but he can be seen as platonic if you're reading this as romance between reader and Wanda!

A/N: heyyyy- gotta get my head back in the game here my dudes and get some more fics out for you guys! so i apologise if the writing is a little messy 

*Your POV*

‘Dance with me’ you say, extending your hand out to Wanda as the avengers living room flooded with light music. Wanda frowned

‘And why do I want to dance?’ Wanda asked, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow. She was defensive; but luckily, you’d expected this.

Over the year and a half since Wanda had been taken in by the Avengers team, she’d been through a lot. The death of her brother only just becoming manageable. But even with her many trails, you’d noticed Wanda allowing people into her little world. Vision had been first, with you not long after. You’d become a comfy little group, with the other members of the team getting more and more comfortable with the powerful girl.

But no matter the comfort or care, you knew Wanda still harboured sudden black moods. Today being one of them.

She’d started the day alright, her emotions plain on her sleeve, but as the day grew so did her sadness, the black mood consuming her till her only responses to people were snappy comments or flying objects. That’s why you’d asked F.R.I.D.A.Y to time your favourite playlist to play, and it’s why you now stood with your arm outstretched to Wanda, a small smile playing on your lips as you saw her contemplate turning you down.

You knew she wouldn’t, she rarely said no to you.

You tried your best to not get a big head about it.

Taking your hand, Wanda looked uncertain as you pulled her from her sitting position. The music was slow, almost waltz like in its melody. perfect for close up dancing. Wanda stood before you, her elbows locked to prevent her body getting any closer to your own. 

“Oh, come on Wanda, this is prom dance music!” you say, keeping your voice low as you tug her closer until her body sat flush with yours.

“Hydra had no time to teach me the tango you know, to busy making me like this” Wanda said, shifting awkwardly as she made the table behind her float. 

“Best time to learn then; for example, I learned this one from all the rom coms I’ve watched” you declare as you placed Wandas hands around your neck before placing your arms comfortably around her waist, clasping them together at the base of er spine. 

Once comfortable, you began to guide Wanda into a slow sway, your feet barely moving as you moved to the music. 

*Wanda’s POV*

Wanda wasn’t sure how long they’d been stood there, their body’s flushed together as they moved slowly to each song that played. She’d never had a friendship like the one she had with Y/N. This intimacy foreign to her compared to the years of abuse she’d sustained from Hydra. Back then, she’d only had Pietro, and even then they could rarely touch; the cell wall between them making every hug precious.

“I wish I could of hugged my brother more” Wanda said, shocked at the words leaving her lips. Y/N’s arms tightened around Wanda’s waist.

“I know. I’m sure he’d say the same.” Y/N murmured, her breath tickling Wanda’s cheek. Wanda let out a shaky breath.

Resting her head in the crook of Y/N’s neck, Wanda let the tears slip silently down her face. Y/N sighed, resting her head against Wanda’s as she cried.

“Come on you, let’s go get a hot drink” Y/N whispered, pulling away slightly to look her in the face. Wanda nodded, looking up as she wiped her eyes.

“Thank you.” Wanda said, searching Y/N’s eyes.

“What for?” Y/N asked, looking confused. Wanda laughed half heartedly, placing her now damp hand into Y/N’s warm one.

“For always knowing what I need when I need it.” Wanda replied, squeezing her hand. Y/N smiled, leaning forward to kiss Wanda lightly on the forehead.

“Come on, hot drink” Y/N said, pulling Wanda lightly towards the kitchen.

*Your POV*

Even though the thanks was nice, you never wanted to be thanked by Wanda. You didn’t want anyone you cared about to think they had to thank you for your care and kindness.

As long as Wanda needed her, as long as anyone in the team needed her, Y/N will be there.

Always.

[afairycreature]

I want a boyfriend! Now! Preferably fluffy curly brown hair, big hands, tall like 6 foot, golden retriever, super touchy, his hand on me all the time, smile like a little boy, hot, a bit aggressive, gentleman, nerdy, cowboy, werewolf, the sweetest, a little pathetic for me, obsessed with me for a long time, pinning for me, it's not too much to ask for

[twinklesucksx]

THEY'RE SO BABYGIRLLL<33333

I made this edit a while ago so enjoyyyyyy!!!!!!

[wa1tngtill1d13]

[10ths-writing-corner]

Febuwhump #1-3: Touched starved, flinch, alt. Soft words.

His heart was racing, nervousness making his stomach twist in knots. Icy blue eyes stared with longing his beloved’s hands. Oh, how he wanted to feel his touch without having that annoying voice alerting him to push it away. If Henrik was going to make this work out then he had to work through some of his fears.

He took a deep breath before turning his back towards Jameson and brushing his brown locks forward. He ignored every urge, every alert he had to put on a shirt and cover the history and burden he carried on his skin, he pressed on. The anticipation was killing him but as soon as he gave a gentle nod then he felt gentle fingers glide over his back. Even if he knew it was coming, the sudden contact made the doctor flinch. He felt the bed dip behind him, Jameson shifting just a bit forward so he could be on Henrik’s eyesight. Worried eyes search his face before he quickly signs. {Was I too quick?}

“No, no…” Henrik says too quick, “I was surprised… Your hands, they are soft.”

{We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.}

“I want to. I-I wish to have the ability to hold you, and for you to hold me without fear.” Vulnerability, something Henrik had such a hard time showing after the suffering he endured. But for him… he was willing to try. Jameson nods and returns to his previous spot.

The dapper places a small amount of lotion on his hands, his sapphire eyes running over the numerous scars adorning Henrik’s back. Who would’ve thought someone like Henrik concealed such pain… gentle fingers near the doctor’s skin once more, and soon make contact with the scarred tissue. He can notice Henrik’s back tensing up, the doctor going rigid and still. Fingers glide with much gentleness and care, stoping here and there when Henrik took sharp breaths.

Henrik’s words still roamed in his head. “I wish to try something.” And how surprised Jameson was at the request, but even then, the dapper only showed support and kindness. In someone else’s eyes this may seem silly, but he couldn’t help but to feel proud of the big step Henrik took. Though, Jameson is brought out of his thoughts when he hears a soft sniffle and he comes to a complete stop. Before Jameson could move in front of Henrik, the doctor speaks.

“Thank you…” Henrik whispered, “T-This means— It means too much for me.” It didn’t take long for Jameson to notice the tears streaming down Henrik’s cheeks, yet a soft smile adorned his face. Not because he felt pity, or bad for Henrik, but because he noticed how he had come to relax his body. How he had unconsciously started to take normal breaths. And Jameson would do anything to keep his beloved in this state.