#Touchstarved's talk box.

[3v3rl4stingbr4in]

Kuras is so beautiful. Looking at him feel so illegal yet my eyes lingers on him for god knows how long.

You know what I do when I see a gorgeous angelic man? I kms right in front of them so they don't have to deal with me. ❤️

[kahlieleith]

GUESS WHO GOT THEIR MERCH IN THE MAIL HEHEHEHEHEHE AHAHAHHAHAHA

I'll unbox that and make a nice little post about it later 👀

[dngrs-untld-hrshps-unnmbrd]

Sweet Little Killer

Ghoulcy | Cooper x Lucy | post S1 | touchstarved | hurt\comfort | angst | sometimes he's an asshole | there was only one bed | overprotective and jealous Ghoul | eventual smut

Those big eyes, Cooper thought, his anger rising. Those big eyes of hers were glistening with tears, and twice as pretty for it. He wondered if she knew the effect she had on men with those soulful eyes of hers. If she did, she was damn well making those tears brim on her dark lashes on purpose, trying to wrap his withered heart around her pretty little finger.

As Ghoul and Lucy journey across the wastes to New Vegas both of them learn a helluva lot more about each other, and circumstances and mutual attraction drive them into each other's arms.

CHAPTER ONE

The ghoul walked quickly, his back straight, eyes fixed on the horizon, while the dog and the girl trailed along behind him. A million stars scattered the vast heavens above the trio, pinpricks of cold, sparkling light.

The revelations of the past few hours had left Lucy’s insides hollow from grief. Who her dad really was, leaving Max behind, and worst of all, realizing who was tied to the chair beside Moldovar. Over and over, she heard an echo of gunshot. Had she done the right thing, ending her mother’s life? Or had she done the selfish thing so she could be rid of her? Had she taken the easy way out, when the truly good and kind thing to do would have been to take her mother’s snapping, snarling corpse back into the vault and cared for her?

Rubbing her wind-chilled arms, Lucy wondered about the golden rule. Did the golden rule even apply to a miserable situation like this? But that was silly. Of course it did. It always applied. Didn’t it?

The wind blew dust into her face, and she had to stop to cough and blink it from her eyes.

Ahead, the ghoul paused at the crest of a low hill, and examined the landscape. This strange, dangerous man had asked her to come with him to New Vegas for reasons she couldn’t quite fathom. She was anxious to think about something that wasn’t her dead mother and her murderous father, and so she strode up beside him, moving dials on her Pip-Boy.

In as confident a voice as she could manage, she said, ‘Sorry, I’ve not been helping at all. I can find us a route if you give me a moment to—’

The ghoul spoke harshly. ‘I know the way.’

He set off again, his shredded duster billowing behind him, but not before Lucy caught his narrow-eyed, angry expression. Anger crackled through his frame as he stalked forward with single-minded purpose. Anger directed squarely at their destination.

Maybe anger was the correct emotion under the circumstances. Lucy dropped her arm back to her side and followed him. She tried to summon up some anger to keep herself focused—maybe even warm—but the cavern in her chest refused to fill up with anything. 

The three of them eventually made camp for the night in an old shack that might have once been part of a bigger dwelling. The floor was sand. The roof was broken open in places and starlight shone through.

Wordlessly, the ghoul dropped his saddle bags to the ground, lay down with his back propped against the sloping sand and his booted feet up on an old tin box, folded his arms, and closed his eyes. The dog stretched out alongside him.

Lucy gazed at the ghoul, and then sat down cross-legged a few feet away. She’d thought there would be words spoken between them tonight. That they would explain to each other his astounding request for her to come with him, and her monumental decision to say yes.

But the ghoul looked like a man whose only desire in the world was to go to sleep.

Maybe he was already asleep.

Lucy cleared her throat.

The ghoul plucked his Stetson from his head with gloved fingers and covered his face.

It was a pointed message, but she ignored it. Tentatively, she called to him, ‘I thought we could talk seeing as we’re traveling together.’

‘S’late,’ the ghoul muttered.

Lucy leapt on his reluctant reply and started talking quickly. ‘True, but there’s no time like the present, as we tell each other back home. I never thought I’d say this, but you and I have something in common.’

The ghoul pushed the brim of his hat up with his forefinger and turned to her. ‘And what might that be?’ he asked softly.

Lucy gave him a weak smile as a pang went through her heart. ‘My dad. It’s not much to have in common—actually, it’s a terrible thing to have in common—but maybe you and I can be…’

Lucy trailed off as the ghoul’s eyes narrowed. His attitude rarely changed from either antipathy or anger, but she realized that right now he was dangerously close to losing his temper as his jaw flexed to one side.

Strained silence fell in the little shack.

‘Let’s get one thing straight, sweetheart,’ the ghoul said in a slow, deadly drawl. ‘I ain’t gonna be your friend. I ain’t your bodyguard or your protector, neither. You’re a liability and a goddamn pain in my ass.’

Wow. That was what she was afraid he’d think of her, but he went and said it out loud. A shameful, painful lump formed in Lucy’s throat and her voice was husky as she spoke around it. ‘If I’m so useless, then…why did you ask me to come with you?’

Those big eyes, Cooper thought, his anger rising. Those big eyes of hers were glistening with tears, and twice as pretty for it. He wondered if she knew the effect she had on men with those soulful eyes of hers. If she did, she was damn well making those tears brim on her dark lashes on purpose, trying to wrap his withered heart around her pretty little finger.

‘You vault dwellers are supposed to be the smart ones. I’m sure you can figure out why I brought you along.’

Her eyes searched his face, and then her features transformed in horror. ‘You said you let my dad go so you could follow him, but you still need me to get close to him and the rest of Vault-Tec. Is that it? You’re using me as bait. Again .’

Cooper gave a nasty laugh. ‘Oh, no, sweetheart. You’re not bait. You’ve been upgraded to leverage.’ As that revelation washed over her and ceased to bring her any comfort, as he’d intended, Cooper closed his eyes, put his hat back over his face, and settled back onto the sand to sleep. ‘There’s no reason for us to say one word to each other for however long it takes us to cross the wastes to New Vegas,’ he told her. ‘Once we get there, we’ll do what needs to be done, and then we’ll go our separate ways.’

He was ready for sleep, but sleep refused to come. The girl was cold, or she was miserable. Probably both. Cooper grit his teeth against the pathetic, shivery sounds she was making and glared at the inside of his hat. One more minute and she’d fall asleep.

One more minute.

Several minutes passed and the girl didn’t stop crying. The more she tried to smother it, the harder she choked and whimpered. Sure, she had a lot to cry about, what with putting a bullet in her mom’s flailing corpse and discovering her daddy’s a murderous asshole, but they had a plan. There was no need to get all weepy now they had a plan. 

Not having a plan, that was something to bawl about.

Lucy’s breathing hitched in a sob.

Cooper seized his hat and yanked it off his face. God fucking damn it. He opened his mouth to snap at the girl to shut the hell up, but Dogmeat’s liquid eyes reproached him in the moonlight.

Cooper closed his mouth. No way. He wasn’t going to comfort her. There would be no comforting on this little trip of theirs. No one needed to unburden their heart or ask why did this happen to poor little me. Answers were what they were going to get. Important fucking answers.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lucy wiping away tears. A long-forgotten impulse flashed through his heart, one that belonged to the man he once was. The husband and the lover. The protector. A man who took joy in holding someone’s tender heart in both his big hands. Who would soothe and kiss away tears, pressing his lips to a cheek or a forehead or a throat.

Cooper pictured himself getting up stroking Lucy’s hair back from her hot, tear-streaked cheeks as she gazed up at him in the moonlight. I’ve got you, darlin’. I’m here.

I could…

He nearly sat up before he remembered the man who was so good at murmuring soft words was long dead. No one wanted or needed his scarred hands or lips anywhere near their tears or soft, smooth skin. In this ruined world, Cooper looked like death and that’s what he delivered. Death. Dear little Lucy’s daddy would soon be dead by Cooper’s hand, and then more of her pretty tears would pour down her cheeks. Even though she probably wanted her daddy dead, she’d still hate Cooper for being the one to put the bullet in him.  

Dogmeat gazed sadly at him, and glanced at Lucy and back at him again.

Silently, Cooper pointed at the girl and gave a quick jerk of his head. Dogmeat obediently got up, trotted over to Lucy, and lay down beside her. There was a wet, sad little gasp from the girl, and then she wrapped her arms around Dogmeat and buried her face in the dog’s fur. With a warm body to hold, Lucy’s crying ceased. A moment later, she lay down with the animal. 

The tension in Cooper’s chest and shoulders finally relaxed. When the girl’s breathing evened out a few minutes later, he settled his hat back over his face, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.

***

Lucy’s eyes felt puffy from crying when she sat up the next morning. The ghoul was already up and repacking his bag. She heard the tinkle of glass, so maybe he’d just inhaled some of his medication.

Maybe that had put him in a better mood.

The dog’s warm, furry body had brought her comfort in the night, and maybe, just maybe, they were both feeling better. There was no way she was going on this journey in complete silence. If she was hurting, he was hurting too. A person didn’t get so angry and closed off for no reason.

As she got to her feet, Lucy said, ‘Mr. Ghoul, um, sir. I can’t call you Mr. Ghoul. What’s your name? I’m Lucy, by the way,’ she added hastily.

Cooper didn’t look up from his bags. He knew her name. He’d heard her father and that can of cram—the Knight—call her by the pretty, girlie name of Lucy. But he didn’t want or need to know her name. Vaultie was just fine, or if he was particularly annoyed with her, sweetheart was even better. A cold, sarcastic reminder that she was anything but sweet to him. Darlin’—now that was something he was saving for when she really got on his nerves.

‘What if I told you I don’t remember?’ he muttered. It wasn’t a lie if he framed it as a question.

He glanced up to see Lucy’s mouth fall open slightly, and the saddest look he ever saw fill her big eyes. Sadder even than last night when she was crying for herself.

She was pitying him? Oh, this was too fucking much. No amount of leverage in the world was worth seeing a girl pity him.

‘You really don’t remember? I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

Cooper wished to fuck that he didn’t remember, but two hundred years later, his irradiated brain remembered every goddamn moment of betrayal, grief, and loss.

 ‘Well, doesn’t it just hurt to be me,’ he sneered. ‘Move it, vaultie. Let’s get going before the radscorpions do.’

Lucy dusted her ass off and started following him, but then stopped dead. ‘The…what?’

With his back to the girl, the ghoul grinned at the bright sunny morning. Something about her trepidation filled him with happiness. He was going to torment her all day, and he couldn’t wait.

He strode jauntily out of the shack, whistling as he went, the dog trotting happily at his heels.

-

Thank you for reading! Chapter Two is here.

[thunderwetter]

Hi I'm still thinking about your Prowl/Overlord fic oh my GOD. it's so good. The part where Prowl talks about how soft touches to touch-starved mechs can be used to manipulate people?? And he mentions how HE used it and NOW ITS BEING USED ON HIM??? turnabout is BITCH, ain't it buddy!!! God that's hands down my favorite part so far. I have to go back and reread it bc like. There's SO MANY good lines that I'm biting VIGOROUSLY. 10000/10 GOOD FIC

(sidenote, this is Peggingprowl, that's my TF sideblog)

HSFGSDD I'm so happy to hear you liked it ahhh!!! I literally sent my friends your reaction bc I was so excited about it, I was sooo anxious before uploading the fic QwQ

I'm stuck deep in university stuff right now but I have LOTS of mean ideas for part two and I'm very much looking forward to writing it, especially after the feedback I've gotten so far (waking up to 15 notes after 5 hours was crazy)

Also Prowl being touchstarved as fuck bc pretty much everybody except for maybe Jazz (and the Constructicons ofc) hates him is a headcanon for me! I feel like down below all that manipulation and logic and asshole attitude he just really forgets that he is still a bot with feelings and needs and desires that he neatly keeps locked away in a "Do not open" box in his mind.

And that's something Overlord immediately figured out and ofc had to abuse :'D

[damarcore]

Are you still doing writing prompts? Because a touch-starved fic with Corlath not realizing that Harry's background means she's never had much physical touch except for her family would make my day!!

Or a fic where Harry's kelar goes offline briefly, and the war hasn't been over long, and she's nervous/insecure about how Corlath would react to it?

Absolutely no worries or pressure, I just saw some of your prompts and went, "we could make a fic out of this" and also I'm DELIGHTED to find the Blue Sword fandom!

hi friend! my writing braincells are currently offline (along with my damar braincells - i still love them but i forgot about this blog, oops), but let's play with that first concept anyway, because i love it. this isn't writing, just headcanons (kind of), but i hope you enjoy! under a cut bc it's a little long.

...

so, i think harry doesn't even realize she's touchstarved, because yknow. fantasy victorian english repression. when mathin reaches out to correct her grip, or when one of the other riders claps her on the back, or when the king briefly touches her arm*, she does not know why her heart races, but while she draws into herself, she does not stop them.

(*corlath knows his position too well to touch people freely, when they might fear saying n to him. corlath, i think, would understand harry's problem completely. however - )

corlath, ever observant, draws a slightly wrong conclusion from watching harry stiffen every time someone touches her: he thinks she doesn't like to be touched at all. that's fine, he tells himself. she's in a country full of people and customs she doesn't know. it's reasonable so he bids the servants to let her dress and wash herself, he reminds the riders gently not to jostle her around as they do the others, he leaves her alone and thinks all is well. and then they get married.

harry, for her part, has neatly boxed the problem away by this time. (don't listen to her. this is more repression. she hasn't dealt with fuckall.) married people are allowed and encouraged to touch each other, so she clings to corlath like a limpet in private. he's surprised, but definitely not unwilling to indulge her, so most mornings find them curled up in a pile. (often with narknon, sometimes without, because she's very offended by the things they get up to when she's not there.)

eventually, he does ask her about it. "i assumed you didn't like being touched," he says one day. "might i ask what changed?"

"...what gave you that impression," she says, currently in such a tangle of limbs that it's difficult to tell who begins where.

they talk it over. at some point, they admit to each other that they can probably count on both hands the number of people who have ever hugged them, and hold each other a little tighter.

anyway fast forward corlath encourages her to touch him whenever she wants, because there's no one to tell them no. harry, still outlander enough to balk at the idea of PDA, holds his hand under the table, and feels very daring. she touches richard more often, too, reminded that she can - often slinging an arm around his shoulders to annoy him, or hugging him when he leaves. she's shier with jack or the riders, but she accepts their renewed touches with a smile.

i don't have a good way to end this, but i hope you enjoyed! ^^

[starlitangels]

Headstone

Pups AU. It’s been a bit. This one also draws heavily from my “Not-Yet Alpha, Not-Yet Mate” short story featuring David’s parents. Enjoy! 1.6k words

CW: discussion of previous canon character death

—

David had been silent for the last few minutes of the drive. The moment we’d crossed into the cemetery, he’d stopped talking completely. He claimed it was because Dahlia’s cemetery was big and complicated—which was undoubtedly true—but I knew it was because this place made complicated feelings rise up.

We got to the narrow road closest to our destination and David did his best to park on the edge of it. This time of day it was mostly empty anyway, but these roads weren’t made for cars.

“Daddy, where are we?” Natalie asked, craning her neck to try to see out the window, but her carseat wasn’t quite tall enough.

“We’re at the cemetery,” David replied, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door.

“Why?”

Yup. She was in that phase.

To be fair, she’d been in the why phase since she was about fifteen months old. Or so it felt. She wanted to learn. David and I didn’t fault her for that, but sometimes the endless stream of questions was mildly exhausting. I always told Davey he was better at being patient with her than I was, and he always said it was because he had plenty of practice with Asher and Milo growing up.

He opened the backseat door behind his and started to help her out of her carseat.

“Because there’s something I wanna show you here,” he answered.

“Okay,” Gabriel said as Natalie opened her mouth again. Probably to ask why again.

I got out and helped Gabriel out of his booster seat. He wrapped his arms around my neck and his legs around my waist once he was free. He was plenty big enough to walk on his own, but the kid never turned down even an extra opportunity for cuddles.

Natty clung to her dad’s neck too. David always said the kids got their “touchstarved need for cuddles” from me. Our children were very much not touchstarved in any way, shape, or form considering how much cuddling they already got—from me and the rest of the pack in general—but that was the joke he liked to make.

Davey and I carried our kids carefully through the maze of headstones. Gabriel narrowed his eyes at a few of the ones we passed, and I could hear him sounding out last names under his breath, trying to read each one. Natalie—who had inherited my tendency to be loud—half-shouted for all of Dahlia to hear her asking why there were “weird marks” on one of the headstones. After David’s patient explanation that it was written in what appeared to be Arabic and different languages had different writing systems, she seemed to understand.

Ducking under the somewhat-unkempt branches of a spruce tree, Davey set Natalie down. I put Gabriel on his feet just behind her.

Hidden under the drooping branches of the tree was a single headstone. “Shaw” was written in large capital letters at the top in the middle. Directly underneath, “Married April 3, 1991,” was carved into the dark grey stone. In a box of lighter-colored granite on the left was “Gabriel Richard—December 18, 1966-September 3, 2017.” The box on the right said, “Annalise Jean ‘AJ’ Hendrickson—November 14, 1967-July 1, 1997.”

Below both names was the simple phrase, “We’ll see.”

“Is this… Grandma and Grandpa Shaw?” Gabriel asked, looking up at David while wrapping his hand around as many of my fingers as he could. David crouched and nodded.

“Yeah. This is where my parents were buried,” he said. “That’s Grandpa Gabe, and Grandma AJ.” He pointed to each name. “Grandma AJ got sick when I was younger than Natty and she passed away when I was about three. Grandpa Gabe got in a car accident when I was in my mid-twenties.”

“Gramma has the same middle name as me!” Natalie announced.

“Mmhmm,” David agreed. “We gave you her middle name to honor her memory.”

Natalie blinked owlishly at him, but for once didn’t ask any questions about what he meant. “Why does it say, ‘We’ll see’?” she asked instead, kneeling in front of the headstone and tracing the letters with her tiny five-year-old fingertip.

Her kindergarten teacher had been very impressed at how well she’d already been reading back when school started. I’d been quick to give David the credit, given he’d read to her almost every night since she was born, and often taught her how to read, if just a little bit, himself. Because she wanted to learn. And she’d inherited his stubbornness and wouldn’t let him leave until he’d taught her a little bit.

David sat cross-legged in the mostly-dead, patchy grass that couldn’t get enough sunlight around the spruce tree’s needles. “Because that was what my parents always said to each other. One of them would make a guess about their future together, and the other would always say, ‘We’ll see.’ Grandpa Gabe told me they were the last words Grandma AJ said to him before she passed. He said he hoped she’d be waiting for him on the other side and she said she was ‘planning on it, but we’ll see.’ So, when she passed, Grandpa Gabe put that on the headstone.”

David blinked tears out of his eyes—and didn’t protest when Natalie stood up so she was eye-level with him and wiped them off his face. He gathered her to his chest and held her there, squeezing tight, but not too tight. She made a strained little groan, but didn’t squirm or yelp for release like she would have if he was hugging too hard.

“Grandpa picked this plot under the tree because he said he and Grandma loved sitting under the tree in the backyard of their house and watching me, Uncle Ash, and Uncle Milo chase each other around when we were toddlers.”

Gabriel stepped carefully closer to the headstone and brushed a few loose spruce needles off the top of it. “You miss them.” It wasn’t a question.

Davey gave our son a sad smile. “I never really knew Grandma AJ. It was hard to miss her. But I miss Grandpa Gabe very much. He taught me everything I know about being a dad. And all I’ve ever been able to hope for was that he taught me enough that I can keep being a good dad to you and your sister.” He kissed the top of Natalie’s head, right on the part between her pigtails.

“You’re the best, Daddy,” Natty said confidently, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on as tight as she could. David sighed with a quiet relief and gave her another hug.

“Glad you think so, baby girl,” he whispered.

Gabriel let go of my hand and carefully approached the headstone, sitting down in front of it and looking it over. He carefully traced the carved letters with his own fingertip, head tilted slightly to the side. He twisted and looked back at me. “You never got to meet even Grampa, right?”

I shook my head. “No. He passed before I met your dad,” I replied.

Gabriel frowned and his eyebrows tilted in sadness. He had more empathy in his little finger than a lot of adults did in their whole bodies. “Sorry,” he said to David. And me.

David ruffled Gabriel’s hair. “It’s okay. If I hadn’t met my mate when I did, I don’t know that we would have ended up here—with you two.” He met my eyes. “They helped me heal from my grief and the walls I put up to protect my heart that were only hurting it more.”

Natalie leaned back from where she’d been hugging David to meet his eyes. “How did you carry the walls with you all the time?”

I couldn’t help it—I burst out laughing. David chuckled too. “Not real walls, Natty,” he said. “Figurative walls.”

“Figura… what?”

David thought for a moment. “Pretend walls. In my head. They made me grumpy all the time.”

Natalie stuck out her bottom lip. “Don’t be grumpy, Daddy. Being grumpy is no fun.”

David chuckled again and met my eyes over our daughter’s head. “Gee, I wonder who she sounds like,” he said.

I smiled. “I’m so proud,” I replied.

David tugged lightly on the end of one of her pigtails. “How about you and your brother sit here and be good, and I’ll go with my mate to grab our lunch out of the car?”

Natalie nodded. Gabriel did too when David met his eyes.

He stood and held a hand out to me. I took it and we headed back for the car to grab the cooler.

—

Natalie glanced over at the tree trunk, smiling as a familiar head of pink curls quickly ducked behind the trunk out of her view. “I know you’re there!” she whispered—loud. Gabriel was reading the headstone again, intently, and didn’t notice.

Caelum poked his head out from behind the trunk again and pressed a finger to his lips. He grinned and giggled. Natalie copied his gesture, nodded, and giggled herself.

“What are you doing here?” Her whisper was quieter this time.

Caelum snuck out from behind the tree. “Making sure you and your family are happy,” he whispered back.

He popped a kiss on the top of Natalie’s head, the way her dad had done, and disappeared as he took a step back.

[microwaveromance]

howdy! !

: intro

hi, this blog is 4 touchstarved, but you might see some other visual novels pop up too. it’s my first time using tumblr, so it might be a bit bad. i plan to post mostly edits, rambles, and memes, and maybe some fics and headcanons—though i’ve never written before, so they might be a bit ooc, lol. ( nice way of saying they'll suck )

: ask box

don’t mind the silly name; if you don’t get it… DNI ! !! ( jk ) if you want to say, ask, or request something, feel free to go ahead. i’ll do my best to respond. (:

: dni

if ur uncomfy with me talking about man booba all the time.

: other

if i manage to post enough content, i’ll create a masterlist. we’ll see if that day ever comes, lol.

i’m not entirely sure what else to add right now, so i’ll update this as needed. xp

[euphoriaslux]

YOUR FIC??!!? WHAT IF DIED TODAY!! okay ill relax but that was so like domestic and hot and that argument...omg. that just fulfills my fantasy that vincent is so touchstarved he wouldn't know what to do ... are you thinking of writing part 2???? love ur writing omg

you guys 😭😭 i’m so glad you liked it and second of all i one hundred percent agree re: touch starved vincent. my poor baby has committed his life to law, working so many hours. like the way he melts into sandra’s hand when they’re in this chinese restaurant ??? how his eyes are like almost glazed over just at the touch?? he is so desperate to feel physically loved that when he gets it it’s like his brain short circuits. i could (and probably will to be honest) write a whole fic about how touch starved he is and how once you’re in a committed relationship he cannot keep his hands off of you (in every way)

not sure if i’ll write a part two, i intended it to just be a one shot but if yall like it ill be sure to do another one!! thanks for reading and i LOVE this ask, yall please feel free to drop any thoughts about vincent in my ask box i am always ready to talk abt him

[veryrealimagination]

Febuwhump Days 1-11,

Text Dump, bc i just wrote these. Drabbles, all only 100 words.

DAY 1: touchstarved

It was on certain days that William noted that Llewellyn became quite bitter, throwing out harsh comments when he mentioned things that needed to be done. Liza’s chores were split between the two, highlighting her death even more.

He didn’t actually connect, or understand, until he had the breakdown over Liza’s kettle breaking. The young man had been the one holding him after the funeral. There had been no other hugs or touches after that, and Llewellyn clung to him for an hour.

The next harsh comment, William had a hand on the back of his neck until Llewellyn calmed.

DAY 2: flinching

Watts noticed when George recoiled from certain actions. After the horrific events of the twins and what they had done to the man and his sweetheart, he came back more subdued than ever, as far as he knew the man. Murdoch was wrapped in his own troubles, and while he had his, he was perhaps the better of the two to approach.

Keeping an eye out, he would go and talk to the man if he flinched from a constable he didn’t know. Bring him out for food if Higgins slammed a box down or a door slamming. He understood.

DAY 3: muzzled

Murdoch had been left alone. No gag, no bonds. Their captors realized if he wasn’t good to threaten.

Instead, they went to the people they kidnapped him with.

George once again had a broken foot, as they had found out about Dorothy and what they did to him. Threatened a few of his fingers before Murdoch relented.

Watts was strapped down, rendered immobile. The worst being a muzzle that someone had configured. An asylum gag, and leather straps keeping it in place around his head. He went a full day before they even approached Murdoch. They didn’t take it off.

DAY 4: knife to the throat

Murdoch realized that Gillies had started running away after the people he paid were distracting and fighting the officers from Station House Four. Forcing himself up, he chased after him. Especially given that he hadn’t merely run, but taken someone. Llewellyn, why did he have-

Twisting around, Gillies held Llewellyn around the chest with a straight razor at his throat. There was a gag keeping him from yelling out, but his eyes actually caught his in fear. “Let him go, Gillies,” he demanded.

“Hmmmm. No. Doesn’t work for me. I’m taking him like I wanted to do the last time.”

DAY 5: “that’s gonna scar”

George froze when he saw the metal sticking out of Henry’s side. It was far too deep and wide to be anything but utterly fatal. The man had his eyes closed, mimicking ~~the final~~ sleep and he wanted to shake him awake to ensure he was still living. “Henry. Henry! Higgins!”

Someone was pulling him back and he felt himself being wrapped in the arms of Captain Brackenreid while Parker and Torva got ready to rush him to the clinic. “Just think about the type of scar Higgins is gonna have waking up. Beats Pendrick’s by a mile, won’t it?”

DAY 6: secrets revealed

James froze as he saw the proof scrolling over his computer. His wife had been stealing and sneaking out his designs. Timestamps on the camera and when it happened confirmed it. He had been warned by his assistant, before he had suspended him for the week when he thought he went too far. He was on the phone and calling the detective, while emailing the proof.

It disconnected before he heard anything.

“I was hoping to catch you before you found out.”

Sally was standing at the doorway. “Come with me, or I will tell my partner to kill him.”

DAY 7: made to watch

They warned Murdoch that if he interfered, he would be dragged out of the room. Then, they would torture his compatriots worse than what they were about to show him.

George had been tortured yesterday. Heated metal and pressed it against his arm and legs. They ensured his foot stayed broken and useless. They spent all night talking to distract him.

He didn’t know that they planned on doing to Watts. There wasn’t any of the normal instruments that they’ve used in sessions before. There was nothing, and that terrified him. “A few of the boys are bored. They begged.”

DAY 9: voice loss

Llewellyn never thought he would have to tell them.

But during his sickness, he had developed a fever and they had taken off his clothing to find the whip marks and everything else he had endured from Duvos. Now that he was better, they wanted answers.

Only, he couldn’t talk.

He opened his mouth and nothing came out. “Watts,” Murdoch demanded. The harshness of it caused him to flinch and shrink.

“William,” James warned. “Llewellyn.”

He tried again, but there still wasn’t anything. There was barely enough air going through his throat, but all of it bypassed his vocal cords.

DAY 8: panic

James watched as Llewellyn collapsed to his knees. Diving after him, he kept the teen from completing the trip to the floor. As he held him, he felt the heart beating too much to be healthy. “William,” he said.

“Do you have that bear clean?”

“Yes.”

“Grab it.”

William took the teen and wrapped around him. “Follow my breathing.” He exaggerated his in and out, counting. It wasn’t long before the bear was placed in Llewellyn’s arms. He wrapped around it quickly before he buried his head in the fur.

“Couch and tea, before we try questioning him again, William.”

DAY 10: difficulty breathing

Something was sprayed in George’s face.

Coughing, he shook his head to try and get to clear air. Instead, every step and every breath became worse. He wasn’t sure what was happening until he collapsed against a wall.

His throat was closing off. He had felt that a couple of times during his childhood. Once was due to panic as he wondered how his aunts would react to a broken window from a bad throw. Another was due to eating something that turned into his first allergic reaction.

People were started to react, trying to help out while he panicked.

DAY 11: fever

Higgins had been staring at a drawer for fifteen minutes.

Even that was a bit excessive for Watts. Standing up, he made his way over and startled the poor man when he waved about a foot away from his face. “Constable Higgins-Newsome?” he inquired.

The poor man took a minute to answer. “What do you need, Ddetective Wattss?”

Oh, that is not good. He saw the paling of the man’s skin, except with hints of red that indicated a flush. He believed it to be from sickness and not another factor. “Perhaps you would be better off at home?”

“Can’t.”

[3v3rl4stingbr4in]

If we get more information about Sen and Elyon in the future, they are getting yurified and they're kissing because I said so.

[shysneeze]

🐛- robin realising she’s made you flustered?? blurb or headcanons, your choice!! and congrats on 2.7k lovely<3

thanks youu, and once again, this got out of hand

(no longer accepting sleepover headcanon requests etc)

warnings: this is a little steamy (or i’m just touchstarved), sexual tension, robins hands, robins lips, robins voice - sfw tho :)

under the cut because it’s just a little irritating long for the dash :)

robin is rambling, it’s not exactly a new phenomenon. she paces around the back room of the video, pulling different boxes down , tidying aimlessly as she rants about her day.

you watch her walk back and forth, leaning against a shelf, utterly distracted by robin’s hands, and the way her quick pace flings her short hair out behind her, wafting apple scented shampoo across the room.

“and then Steve just flirted whilst I had to deal with the saturday afternoon rush and-“

she keeps going, walking towards you with a couple tapes in her left hand, using the other to guide you out of her way with her hand on your waist, standing on her toes to reach the shelf above you.

“he didn’t even get a date which is even worse.”

the raspy edge of her voice makes you gulp as her breath grazes your ear as she leans over you to put the films away. she squeezes your hip as she pulls away, and your breath catches, quivering from her lips a second too late.

“are you okay?”

“huh?”

you’re staring at her lips though, lips parted wordlessly, and robin’s head tilts for a second, confused as your turn your head to side, suddenly aware of how ridiculous this is, to be so flustered over your own girlfriend.

“what? was i talking to much?”

“no, rob,” you manage, “you can never talk to much to me i just-“

your eyes betray you again the second you turn to face her, eyes falling once again to her lips, watching as realisation causes them to quirk upwards into a smirk.

“oh,”

“shut up,”

robin grins, hands finding your waist, pulling you into her chest as you grumble embarrassedly, turning again to the side.

“no, no,” robin exclaims softly, lips briefly grazing your ear again, “look at me, please… you look so cute all flustered.”

“robin…”

one you’re facing her again, she lifts her hands to cup your cheeks, smirking in a way that makes your ears burn. your back presses against the metal frame of the shelves behind you, and she breathes out a disbelieving chuckle at the way your eyes flutter shut as she leans in.

“i love having this effect on you, you know-“

“will you just kiss me, already.”

[lunar-wandering]

can we talk about this can we PLEASE talk about Mei patting Red Son on the head and his struggle against physical contact this boy checks all the touchstarved boxes

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

Slides in with box of HC's

Its been awhile! So have some Venus Flytrap Husbands HC's :D

- Scott isn't "clingy" / "touch-starved" in any means necessary, but sun does enjoy the comfort of Sausage and Jimmy by his side ((yes I'm using sun/moon neopronouns for Scott because I'm holding the idea of that hc of ftm empires!scott I made like, a couple months ago))

- Jimmy gushes about Scott and Sausage to Lizzie and Joel, even when he doesn't mean to. It gets to the point where Lizzie jokingly asks him "So, when is the wedding?" and Jimmy just, short-circuits his thoughts

- While Rivendell focuses on Gold and The Cod Empire focuses on Copper / Iron, Mythland focuses on silver. So periodically, the citizens of Rivendell will see Sovereign Scott wearing silver and copper / iron jewelry ; the citizens of the Cod Empire will see Codfather / Cod-Boy Jimmy wearing Gold and Silver jewelry ; the citizens of Mythland will see Lord Sausage wearing gold and copper / iron jewelry

- I like to think Rivendell is heavy on the idea of the Fine Arts, whenever that be of music or dance, Rivendell is heavy on it. So on some days, like Winterfest, Scott shows Sausage and Jimmy around, with moon blabbering about the festive and music, while Sausage and Jimmy just listen to moon talk about it :D

aaaahhh i love this!! jimmy gushing about them to lizzie and joel has me particularly 🥺

(also agree to disagree on scott not being clingy/touchstarved, i will die with my clingy!scott headcanons /lh /nm)

[germvity]

RISES THE MOON

leon s kennedy x reader // 5 // blue blood

the officer sighs, keeping you close as he slowly starts to settle himself. eventually, leon falls asleep himself, rolling over with you so you were between him and the wall of the shack. you mumble incoherently at the movement, eyelids fluttering as you stir. yet, leon's deep breathing and soothing heartbeat makes you fall asleep once more.

genre: angst with fluff

tags: nemesis 👺, he's stinky, david being a bully 2.0, leon being a sweetheart, he cares, jill being a good friend <3, might rewrite this chapter maybe bc i just know im gonna skip a few paragraphs to get this out a bit earlier :(

warnings: bullying, hitting/beatings, crying, confession swerves, mild heartbreak bc i hate myself </3

tag list <3

@trinswhimsys , @hex-touchstarved (ily mutual <3)

---

you woke up with a harsh headache and no recollection of what happened the night before, tears stinging your eyes as you crouch down to work on the dirty generator in front of you. the wires singed your fingertips, and you hiss, pulling away right as the generator let out a skull splitting bang. your head ached as your heartbeat picked up, and you darted from the machine and into the gas station with nemesis now hot on your tail. "fuck.." you whine, just your luck that he would be on you first. you throw down a pallet with urgency, gasping as his tentacle slashes a deep infection into you. you splutter, blue blood oozing down your body as you cough into your arm. vaulting the window was easy, but unfortunately the killer's appendage is much longer than you thought as it whips your back, leaving behind a nasty gash.

fortunately, a pallet was nestled between two cars and you ran for it, managing to stun the greedy monster before scrambling to safety. "fuck.." you whine, coughing up some blue sludge as you quickly hide in your surroundings. the nemesis walks past you angrily, storming away and leaving you for a moments peace. you spot a white box's aura nearby, and it beckoned you over the the feeling of safety. you round the corner and see it sat there, and crouch down to snap the flimsy lock. you raise the vial carefully out of the foam in the case, sighing in relief before a rough hand snatches the scruff of your shirt. you yelp in surprise as david throws you to the ground, the vaccine rolls away from you and you reach for it. "you fucker! i never lose a fight!" david roars, kicking your stomach firmly. you cry out in pain, curling up into a tight ball to try and avoid david hitting any vulnerable spots. "i hate you! i hate you so much..!" the fighter continues, but now crouches down to pull you from your protective position. he punches you roughly and you wail in pain as blood bursts from your nose.

"leon!" you scream, hoping he was in this trial to help you. "leon! help me!" you cry out again, and david's cruel laughter finds your ears. "that pretty boy isn't here." he grins, giving you another punch before a pair of hands grab him. "what the-?!" the zombie cuts him off, teeth piercing david's neck as he screams in agony. the fighter scrambles away, and the zombie ignores you to follow him. "hello? i heard screaming." a new voice intrudes, and jill peaks around the corner. "jesus- what happened?" she rushes over to you as you reach for her weakly. "david... he's so mean." you cry, letting her pull you close as she hugs you tightly. "come on, let's get you somewhere safe." she offers a sad smile, pulling you up carefully.

jill patches you up firmly and cured you, she let you follow her around for the trial, pointing out totems and chests for you to work on whilst she pumped out gens. ash gave your hair an affectionate ruffle in passing, but he was always more of a lone wolf, so he left quickly to distract nemesis. the rest of the trial went bad quickly. david was mori'd, ash died on hook and jill was gravely injured as well as dead on hook by the time the last generator was powered up.

with noed rampant in the end, and the gates blocked by the entity, you and jill stayed hidden behind a pile of crushed cars as the nemesis patrolled the gates carefully. "fuck... what are we gonna do?" you whimper, looking at jill. "i have an idea. i saw hatch earlier, we can find a key." jill gives you a smile, "but all the chests are open?" you remind her, and she shrugs. "no matter, elodie taught me how to look thoroughly." she pulls you along, and you have no choice but to follow. the chest you two found had a broken key in it, and jill tossed it away to start rummaging. "aha!" she beams, tossing a skeleton key into the air and catching it as she offers you her other hand. "c'mon, let's get out of here." she says, and you take her hand.

the two of you run past the undead, past nemesis who caught wind of your scratch marks and started following, stopping at the hatch. jill leans down, unlocking the door quickly as you turn to see nemesis approaching way too quick for your liking. "c'mon, move it!" she yells, pushing you down into the void and jumping in after you. the trap door slams shut, cutting off any light as the two of you fall into the thick smoke.

you regenerate abruptly, catching yourself but still falling when jill is thrown onto you. she wraps her arms around her waist and steadies the two of you quickly, mumbling an apology as she lets go of you. "it's okay.." you reply, letting her lead you to your shack. "leon's probably waiting, c'mon." jill yawns, spotting the blonde who was indeed waiting at your door. his eyes scan the tree line, searching for you. "leon!" you call, and his eyes brighten at the sight of you and jill. "y/n! are you okay?" he runs over to meet you half way, letting you hug him tightly. "be careful, they've had a rough trial." jill says sternly, and leon nods. "thanks for looking after them, jill." he smiles, and jill nods before walking away.

"come on then, let's get you rested." leon says, but freezes when he sees the bruises on your face, "oh, what happened?" he cups your face carefully, analysing you for any signs of a concussion. "david got me... he's really mad." you sigh, melting into his touch. "that fucker... he'll get what's coming to him." leon growls, pulling you into a tight and safe hug. "can we go inside?" you ask quietly, and he nods. "of course, c'mon."

you feel safe with leon, and relax more as you enter your practically shared home. leon turns away as he lets you get changed into some more comfy and cleaner clothes, taking off his bullet proof vest and putting it in its usual spot against the wall. you flop down on your bed with a huff, the blanket feels so welcoming as leon sits next to you. you rest your head on his thigh, letting him gently stroke your cheek as you close your eyes. "you feel any better?" he asks softly, and you nod. "good. just relax, yeah?" leon smiles, leaning back against your wall as he gets comfy.

you move from his lap and smile at him. "lay down with me?" you ask, and leon chuckles. "sure." he says, joining you and letting you cuddle into him. "leon?" you mumble softly, resting your head on his chest. "yeah?" he responds immediately, rubbing your back. "thank you for doing this for me... i don't deserve you." you smile sadly and leon huffs. "don't say that. you deserve the world." the blonde says firmly, moving so you would look at him. "i like you a lot, y/n." he admits yet you just smile. "i like you too." you reply, and leon's heart tightens as he realises you're unaware of his meaning. "i like you, so much more than i should.." he whispers and you process his words.

"wait... like that or am i reading into this too much..?" you ask sheepishly and leon nods, "like that." he confirms and you look away to think. "y/n..?" he whispers, desperate for any response. "i'm sorry... i can't... i don't wanna lose you or get hurt." you reply, voice also just above a whisper. "that's fine." leon smiles to hide the pain he felt. "i'm sorry..." you say again, holding him close. "it's alright, i don't mind." leon lies, his heart burning with sorrow. "just get some sleep, y/n." he says, holding you as if you would melt away if you let go.

"are you okay?" you ask softly, hands rubbing his back. "yeah, i'm completely fine." leon replies, ignoring the strain in his voice. "no you're not... i'm so sorry..." you whisper, feeling your own tears starting to well up. "don't cry, it's fine." leon smiles, wiping your face for you. "i'm so sorry, leon.. i just don't want to get hurt." you say, nestling your head into his neck. "i know, i know.. let's change the subject now until you fall asleep." he sighs.

soon enough the two of you are talking again, and leon almost forgets the rejection until you doze off. "as long as you're okay..." he whispers to himself as he brushes fallen hair from your face. "i couldn't care less about my own feelings." he smiles, tears stinging his eyes as he pulls you into his chest.

[alittlelove4u]

class 1a headcanons

WARNINGS: some of them might be angsty. My English tenses.

NOTE: Did I include most of my otp? Maybe. I could write a hundred of these. I love them so much.

masterlist

Bakugou cooks most of the time for them but on his birthday, the whole class tried to make his favorite meal. Kirishima, Sato and Momo did most of the work.

Shinsou and Bakugou became really good friends. In fact, Shinsou became part of the Bakusquad from the first day.

Denki is very insecure and thinks he’s too stupid. Momo noticed that after a study lesson with the class and offered him to tutor him alone. The two of them would spent many hours in the library or her room studying. Momo never gets angry and explains everything to him. After Denki gets his first A on his test, he bought her a plushly of pikachu and hugs her crying, thanking her for not giving up on him.

Shoji and Hagakure are best friends and often watch scary movies together. Hagakure would cuddle with him and she definitely loves it to scare him after the movies. After a while Tokoyami would join them and he’d also hold tightly on Shijo, because he’s scared. After every scary movie they’d watch a funny one and probably fall asleep during the first 20 minutes.

Aoyama is the Master of selfcare-nights and one time Todoroki asked him what the weird thing on his face was. After Aoyama explained to him what face masks are and what they do, Todoroki asked shyly if he could show him some, for his scar. This lead to weekly evenings of Todoroki and Aoyama putting face masks on and talking.

Iida had a crush on Ochako since their first day, but he never said anything because he knew she liked Midorya. In their second year Iida confessed to her(with a little help from Deku and Todoroki) and asked if she’d like to go on a date with him. After a couple of boba dates, they finally became a couple.

Shinsou transferred to the hero course in his second year and Iida thought it would be a great idea to have a game night with the whole class, to get to know each other. It worked and even became a tradition.

The Bakusquad has a groupchat and they’d send all their pictures. During the christmas break Kirishima visited Bakugou and found out that he had printed all of the pictures out and pinned them to his wall.

One time Deku woke on in the middle of the night, to get something to eat and found Aizawa sleeping on the couch in the common area. (I wrote a brainfart about Aizawa and his nightmares here)

During the cold months Todoroki would often offer Tsu his arm or hand, to keep her warm. She’d also alway sit next to him and he’d probably blush, every time she takes his arm.

Todoroki is touchstarved and he really likes it when Midorya connects their pinky fingers when they’re in public.

Wherever Sero is bored or wants to talk, he’d go to either Bakugou or Kirishima. That’s why he’d know about their crushes for each other. He’d tease Bakugou all the time about it, but he’d also try to convince him to confess. Bakugou still believes Kiri doesn’t like him in the same way. Wich is why Sero has a lot of headaches.

During their third year, Sero and Mina tought the class how to dance for their prom. That’s when the two of them realized they had a crush on each other. Sero told it Bakugou first. By the end of the month, they were dating.

Kirishima has nightmares and one time he activated his quirk in his sleep and accidentally hurted Bakugou.

After practice, Midorya wanted to high five Todoroki, but he flinched.

At the end of the firt year, All Might wrote for every one of his students a letter for their graduation, in case he wouldn’t be alive. They are all in one box under his desk.

[fandomchaosposts]

being touchstarved can seriously be dangerous for you tho

like there is this guy that creeps me out a lot but pre-november-quarantine me kept talking to him because he was giving me hugs and guess what my brain valued more. thankfully I stopped talking to him but when my boxing club opens again if he keeps hugging me I seriously don't know if I'll be able to tell him to stop because 1stly I'm dumb but also hugs,,, nice,,,