#after almost a year of not doing as often

[thelindenpapers]

"who taught you that suffering in silence was noble, and how would you shutting up have benefited them?"

It's often something you learn when you're in an abusive or oppressive situation.

Especially long-term.

And especially if those long-term situations occur multiple times throughout life.

I grew up in an extremely racist/misogynist community.

They learned that they couldn't bully or intimidate me ...but they would pick on anyone who tried to defend me.

And that later expanded into them shunning or bullying anyone who I let on that I liked, or even worse, was crushing on.

I grew up with an abusive, fascist father.

He killed our dog. Why? Because it kept angrily and loudly barking every time he was trying to hurt Mom and me.

More than that: in my childhood community, anyone I tried to talk to would either ignore me like I was a ghost, or, shout slurs and death threats in my face. I'm talking early on in life: Before kindergarten, Kindergarten to at LEAST thru 3rd grade.

So:

You learn that anyone you like gets punished for the grevious faux pas of being liked by you.

You learn that anyone who tries to help you, gets hurt or even killed.

You learn that almost nobody comes to help when you cry for help.

You learn that even trying to talk or say 'Hi' to people, results in them suddenly appearing harmed or troubled or annoyed or angry, somehow.

...And why wouldn't I be silent?

As a feral kid, no one was going to listen to me anyway, no one was going to care how I felt about anything or about how anything was affecting me.

And if I did tell?

People frequently took the abuser's side.

Just as the cops did, the very first time I was finally old enough to threaten dad right back!

Don't even get me started on my marriage.

How long are you supposed to keep on telling a person, 'Hey, these are my needs, and I need your help to get something done about it please.

Hey, I should probably see a doctor, why aren't you letting me have access?

Hey, we really need to talk about our relationship. I don't know why you don't want to spend bonding time together.

Why are you making it so difficult for me to try to get a job or an education?

Why are you sabotaging my writing efforts?

Why do you get so upset at my physical activities?

What is with the panic when you see I'm trying to advance my tech skills?

Why does it anger you so much when I try to be proactive and vigilant in making us a comfortable and clean and helpful home?'.....

He actually complained to me:

"Why can't you just LIE?"

About being happy.

About being well.

So yeah.

Why would I want to ask his (or his parents) help in anything. I can't trust them at all.

Why would I allow someone to help if it might get them hurt or killed in the attempt?

Why would I bother to let anyone know? When, after SO many years of being stuck in a deep pit of a life, to help me would probably cause WAY more stress and take WAY more effort and resources, than any one person could possibly offer or endure?

Why would I do that?

When someone might decide to try and help, start the process -- decide partway through that it's all too much, and abandon the process: leaving me in a position that is less safe than where I started?

( Hell, sometimes that is an on-purpose thing. When a person feels bad, and knows they can't or don't want to help, but they'll make a gesture to make themselves feel good, not caring that what they try to do is actually helpful or effective. )

And why would I tell people exactly what I'm going through, when so many around me would instead:

Victim-blame me.

Call me a liar.

Assume I was crazy.

Nod sympathetically and then use it as a way for them to feel much better about how they're doing in their own lives.

Say it's too much, say it's not so bad, or say others have it way worse.

Enjoy my explanation and my existence as a form of entertainment like I'm their personal IRL soap opera.

Or, use the information that I've given them about me as a way to hurt me further -- since they now seem to think that I'm some easy target, or that, in some twisted sense, abusing me further is somehow less morally bad, and more acceptable: because I've been abused before.....

So in their eyes, I'm 'Already soiled'?

'Already hopeless'?

'Already nothing'?

It's nothing to do with moral superiority.

It's survival.

...And I'm not saying it's right.

In an ideal situation, absolutely: being helped at any point in my life would have been great!

A healthier social structure would allow for this.

In a world where care was offered by the Community rather than by the individual, I wouldn't worry about speaking, just to find myself in worse trouble than when the 'helping' process started...

But this ain't a healthy world yet.

^^;

You asked why people feel that way.

So I've told you all the reasons why they might.

YMMV. 🤷🏾‍♀️

who taught you that suffering in silence was noble, and how would you shutting up have benefited them?

[thepossummoldypasta]

Hidden In The Woods

In the woods around Hawkins there is a van, and in that van lives an Eddie. Not a nasty beat-up van in constant need of repair, nor is it a creepy van that looks like it belongs to a serial killer; It’s Eddie's van and that means comfort. It has a perfectly undented body painted green and a mattress in the back. Or well, he doesn't actually live in the van. It's a nice van sure but Eddie lives in a doublewide trailer with his uncle, not his van–no matter how often they joke about it. 

(and there is a small chance he’s lying when he says it doesn't constantly break down)

He’s heading to his van now actually. 

Eddie longs for the ability to teleport at times like this; he’s trudging through the woods after a particularly fucked drug deal, and all he wants is to be in the back of his beloved shitbox, wrapped in blankets and smoking a joint. 

But Eddie can't magically teleport to the van and he also can’t ban Tommy Hagan from buying his weed–who was a major ass today by the way–because he gets most of his income from the jerk. 

He also can’t park closer to where he deals, which sucks. Eddie knows Hopper looks for his van parked on the side roads, so woods it is. Boo.

It's not that much farther….

And it's a nice day...

Plus the trees are pretty…

Eddie loves fall: the trees light up so magically in the sunbeams like a leafy fire, he sees more gray squirrels dancing about the forest floor this time of year, and Halloween is just awesome. 

This Halloween especially. He led a bitchin’ Halloween one-shot with his new DnD club this year and nothing could sour his mood for almost a week afterward. Even though there was some weird pumpkin blight that year that meant no jack-o-lanterns and the controlled burns in the woods behind Forrest Hills kept him up at night all that month. 

Plus he had a really good fall break so far. 

Okay, maybe things aren't sooooo bad. Trust a walk in nature to clear his head. Now that he’s calmed down Eddie can appreciate how nice everything is. 

Wait.

Eddie definitely didn't leave the back of the van open when he left.

Maybe things are shit and Eddie is an idiot. 

Fuck 

He’s lanky and gangly and has no weapon to defend himself with, but Eddie still creeps closer to the doors. 

Hagan couldn't have gotten here before Eddie, so he’s probably not going to get jumped for selling him overpriced weed. Maybe a really smart, really lucky,  raccoon just so happened to get the door open? More likely Eddie opened the damn thing himself, completely forgot about it, and is now making mountains out of molehills…

He props a hand on the closed door and peeks around it into the dim back. And promptly reels back in shock falling flat on his ass. 

It's a total Occam's Razor moment. The easiest and most simple solution is that the universe hates Eddie Munson. Because that's definitely Steve Harrington in the back of his van. He’s snuggled deep into Eddie’s blankets and smelling distinctly more omega than the last time he saw the guy. But it's Steve alright. 

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck 

What the fuck is Steve Harrington doing in the back of Eddie’s van? He’s never even had a conversation with the guy!

What do you do in this situation! 

Steve’s obviously nested back there, and if He was completely scentless before the fall break he’s gotta be fresh off his presentation heat, so like hell is Eddie going to go barging in–that's a surefire way to get his face ripped off–but Eddie also needs to get in that van eventually! 

He Raises back up on shaky legs, poking his head fully into the back; and takes another good, hard, look. 

There is still a person in the back of his van. A whole-ass person who wasn't in his van when he left. A person who is without a doubt, Steve. 

A rustle of movement, a quick shifting of blankets, pulls Eddie back to reality. There’s a cute little chirr from the nest followed swiftly by chestnut waves of hair shimming out into the open. Eddie isn't even given time to react before doe-eyes bleary with sleep blink down at him. 

“Eddie!” 

And oh isn't that the sweetest little chirp. Eddie watches in astonishment as the omega wiggles to prop himself up against the back of the driver's seat, chirping adorably all the while.  Eddie can't decide if he’s more mystified by The Prettiest Boy in Hawkins™ cuddled up back there, or That he knows Eddie’s name. 

Now that the omega isn't completely cocooned, Eddie can smell that faintest hint of mint that Steve is throwing into the air paired with heady lavender and it draws him in. Before he even realizes he’s followed his nose and clambered into the back of the van… his van. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty,” Eddie starts slowly. Are you comfy?” It's an innocent enough question. Hopefully, if he plays it casually, Steve won't decide Eddie’s a threat and rend him to dust for being in the poor Omega’s space.  

Steve didn't seem to understand at first cooing a cute, drawn-out  “Hi, Eddie” but eventually he blinked owlishly and replied with a smile “So cozy”. 

“That’s nice sweetheart, but how bout we get you to your nest, hmm?” the alpha tries to suggest. Oh but now Steve looks a bit confused; drawing his brows together and pouting. 

“Nest? ‘M in my nest?” Steve says (well actually he whines it, but Eddie is trying to ignore that lest his heart break). Crap what does he do now?

“I–I know you’re nesting right now, uh–but wouldn’t you be–wouldn't you feel better at home?” Eddie reasons. 

“But there’s no nest there!” Steve whines again “They wont let me have a nest! I wanna stay here” 

“Okay, Okay” Eddie soothes in a hushed voice,” you don't have to go anywhere you don't want to sweetheart” Eddie is in so much trouble. Now that he knows Steve won't be pissed at him for being so close, Eddie’s having a hell of a time not being closer.  

Maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing.  

Eddie coos from a distance until the whines and whimpers peter out and are replaced by soft sleepy snuffles. 

“How did you even get here, big boy?” Eddie questions. The thought has been plaguing him, what happened while he was away?

“I was taking a walk” Steve starts, he lays his head down and his eyes flutter closed before he continues. “I needed to get away and I went into the woods. I got turned around but you saved me.”

“I saved you?” How the hell did he do that? 

“Mmm hmmm, I smelled ya” Steve hums” smelled so good so I followed.” ok, even more confused now. Eddie has an…unconventional scent–basil and tobacco leaf–he can't imagine someone trekking through the woods to find something that smells like pasta sauce and cigarettes. And how long was Steve lost in the woods, how long was he wandering, cold and alone, with only a scent trail for comfort. 

“Hey, Eddie?” 

“Uh yes?” Eddie focuses back on reality, ready to face whatever he’s about to be asked.

“If I’m sleeping beauty, why didn't you wake me with a kiss?” nope not ready for that. 

“Would you? Uh Do–did you want me to?” Steve nods against the soft blanket pillowed underneath him.  

Oh. 

Eddie feels his resolve crack and threatens to shatter. He can't take advantage of Steve when he’s so vulnerable. Is he vulnerable? Steve isn't still in heat, his mind is sound. But he is upset.  Best to leave it be for now. 

“Do you still want me to kiss you?” 

Dang it.

Steve shoots up–ramrod-like–to nod ecstatically. Eddie's resolve shatters.  Absolutely not helped by Steve’s little please, please, pleases. 

“Okay” 

It's not like there's anyone around to judge him.

It’s like the movies, the way they lean in close and steal each other's breath. Steve tastes like honeyed sunshine. It sweetens the omega’s lavender-mint tea smell in a way that Eddie knows he’ll crave till the day he gets buried six feet under.  Eddie can't tell where he ends and his darling omega begins, drawn so close together that their purrs rattle in both chests. 

Only the lack of oxygen drives them apart, though Eddie tries to fight it. 

“I’ll do better next time princess” the alpha rumbles with care. 

They seal the deal with another perfect kiss. 

Hell yeah.

================================================

based on this post Special thanks to @starshideurfics for inspiring me to have Eddie call Steve sleeping beauty like a SIMP

[dvchvnde]

EXCERPT: JOHN PRICE, WINTER SOLDIER AU.

You're still getting used to the sight of him—bare faced in patches: the beard shorn off into a mere shadow of what it was before; a choice he'd made for himself after scrubbing down in a long shower, refusing any help or medical aid—and he doesn't make it any easier for you in these brief, uncomfortable stages of acclimation you suffer through.

Hands lashing out into dead air. Fingers catching, unyielding and firm, on your skin. Nails—split and jagged; regrown in patches after being ripped off over and over again (for hree years, is the mocking whisper snaking along the nausea when you look at the pinked-tinged beds)—burrowing into your flesh. Anchoring you in place as he bends down, moulds his frame around you. Malleable shadow eating you whole.

Indomitable.

John Price was always an intimidating man.

Towering. Broad. Gruff. Surly. Mean old man was often thrown around amongst the new recruits, ones too scared to voice what they really thought:

Miserable fucking bastard.

His weight thrown around like an extension of himself—all raw, barely contained anger trembling out through the cracks. Lashing thick, brutal lines across his forehead. In the sharp, downward tug of his mouth tucked behind a bed of brunt umbre hair.

He was difficult to deal with on a good day, even when he'd offer that mocking smile of his. A parody of geniality—lips split upwards like a crocodiles maw.

(come, come, put your hand inside this beasts jaws; he won't bite—)

As fucking if.

You've only known him in pieces. Patches. Barely enough to make a whole picture, but you could still fill in the empty spaces with that grizzled anger of his that seemed to roll off of him in waves.

(no wonder he burns so hot—it's all that fury.)

Mostly, he'd come to dress you down in front of everyone watching. Snapping at the sight of your desk—organised chaos a true oxymoron (and for the most part, that seemed to be what he thought of you: a moron)—and how you handled files, and how you waltzed around like you owned the place—

and do you, sweetheart? do you own this place, mm? is that why you never listen to a goddamn thing i tell you?

All-in-all: a miserable fucking man.

And one made of sharp, brutal contradictions. Paradoxes layered over each other. Sealed with fury—of the righteous, pragmatic kind—and reinforced with an utilitarian core. Forlorn hope in the distinct shape of a man, one always readying himself for a pyrrhic victory (but a victory, nevertheless).

Easy, in hindsight, to deal with when you knew how to navigate the frothing gyre of anger and juxtapositions that made up the man who brute force, physicality, to get what he wanted.

By sharp contrast, the version of him who stands before is more enigmatic than the mangled mess of savagery and labyrinthine defenses. Almost unknowable. Unfathomable.

Even more so when he lifts his hand—scarred up, still blistered and bruised from fighting his way through fire and kin to get to you—and presses those mangled knuckles to the swell of your cheek, as tender as a man like him could ever allow himself to be, and runs a soft, shallow line down the side of your face. Eyes—still that same, dizzying blue—darken into liquid sapphire as he stares at you. Inexplicably soft. Lids crested. Half-mast in pleasure as if staring at your face was relaxing. Comforting.

Something swirls in those deep, endless lagoons. Some implacable emotion—all at once too much; too heavy—frissoning over his feature. A paroxysm. You can't catch it. Can't define it.

It's unquantifiable. Unknowable. And yet—

You know, instantly, that John Price would never look at you with something this archaic, this intense, brimming up like geysers in the endless spill of blue that can't seem to look away from you.

This man is not John Price.

But when he pulls you into a kiss—one softer and sweeter than you'd ever imagined the infamous captain could ever be capable of—you let him.

In fact, you kiss back.

And you'd really rather not think about what that says about you.

[tsuutarr]

Hehe

Unleash Fox dilf! Jiu-jitsu please

Succubus anon💋💞

One foxy dilf coming up~

(Yandere! Fox hybrid (gumiho) doctor x reader)

In your quaint village, not much occurs. Days are peaceful, if not a little boring. But you can’t really complain, not when the people around you are so lovely.

Your village helps each other, resources are always shared, and people are always taken care of. Among all your villagers, one of them, Dr. Shin, is especially kind. Despite being a new addition to your village, he’s loved by all the villagers. He’s often busy, too, as the only doctor around.  The previous doctor had passed away after falling to her demise in the woods while looking for herbs. Your village was both saddened and worried about the previous doctor’s sudden death, unsure of how you all would survive without medical care. Contrary to your worries, however, Dr. Shin suddenly appeared one day and from that point onwards, he’s become a valuable member of your village. He’s extremely personable and kind, making sure to make time for you – it’s no wonder he’s so beloved and trustworthy.

“Hello, Dr. Shin,” you greet him during one of your appointments. His fox ears flicker, which makes him rather cute despite him being much older than you. He often reminds you of the injured fox you had helped a few years back, especially when his bronze-colored ears move around.

“Ah, hello,” he greets back, a smile on his face. He motions for you to take a seat on the hospital bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, I think,” you respond, sitting down. Your fingers tap idly against your knee as you sink into thought. “I don’t think I get nightmares anymore…” 

“Oh? Then that’s quite good, isn’t it?”

“I… yes, I suppose.” Nervously, your eyes flicker downwards. It’s true that your nightmares have subsided, but they’ve been replaced with rather… inappropriate dreams about your doctor. But it isn’t like you can tell him that, especially when your dreams are so… realistic – like they’ve actually happened.

When you look back up, you can’t help but gasp at how intense his gaze is. “What troubles you?” he inquires, making your cheeks heat up.

“I… uhm, well…”

“Yes?”

At his expectant looks, you squeak out, “I’ve been having dreams that aren’t nightmares, really. But they’re… very intense, for a lack of a better word.”

Dr. Shin looks intrigued, leaning forward slightly. “Would you care to elaborate?” You shake your head, giving him a weak smile. “Ah, it’s nothing, really…”

“My dear,” Dr. Shin says, kindly, “I’m quite worried about you. Please, tell me.”

It’s too embarrassing to tell him – you just can’t. But the way he looks at you, his eyes glowing faintly… you can’t help but say, “I’m having sexual dreams,” despite your will. Gasping, you clamp your mouth shut.

“Oh?” he smiles, teeth glinting underneath the light. “I see, that’s quite normal.” Leaning back in his chair, he lets out a small hum. “But I suppose that it’s much more frequent and intense in your case, hm?”

You feel like you’re going to combust from embarrassment.

“Let’s see if I can assist you.” Dr. Shin pulls out his notebook and pen, ready to take a few notes. “Who is often present in these dreams of yours?”

You gulp, looking at him with wide eyes. He looks back at you, eyes glinting, leading you to say, “You.” Your mouth clamps shut – why did you say that?!

Regardless of your inner plight, Dr. Shin looks pleased, his smile getting wider. “Very good.” He notes a few things in his notebook, before snapping it shut and putting it away. The room dims as his eyes glow brighter, his grin toothy. “Don’t fret, my dear. There is quite an easy cure to your plight.” He approaches with soft – almost ghostly –  steps, before reaching out and tilting your chin. Nine tails – didn’t he only have one? – flicker out behind him as a chill runs through your body. “All you must do is stay by my side.”

After all, as the source of all your nightmares and dreams, he’s the only one who can cure you, too.

[euphoric-rambles]

I want to comment as someone who got a hysterectomy at 33 (and am now 35).

Why did I do it?

I was diagnosed at 26 with a rare form of uterine pre-cancer called Atypical Polyploid Adenoma (APA) and had recurrent tumors in my uterus with some transformation of the cells indicating a chance of high malignancy. Meaning there was a higher chance that I could develop an aggressive form of uterine cancer. Over the course of almost a decade, I visited my gynecologist, oncologist, and GP several times a year. I had annual transvaginal ultrasounds (where a wand is shoved inside your vagina to take pictures of your uterus and ovaries) along with several D/Cs. A D/C is where a doctor shaves a section of the impacted uterine tissue with a laser--think Darth Vader lasering out your uterus.

I also had several biopsies of my uterus taken. Uterine biopsies are some of the most targeted pain I have ever felt. The doctor has to open your cervix to get into the uterus. This is often completed while the patient is awake and without any pain relief. After my first one I was crying so hard my oncologist was concerned I might be having a panic attack.

Could you have just had D/Cs for the rest of your fertility?

I could have, but the stress, anxiety, and pain was getting to me. As any patient with cancer will tell you, the anxiety is excruciating. I also had serious conversations with my oncologist about the likelihood that I could get pregnant (many of my tumors grew on my fundus, where an egg would implant) and the chance that the hormonal changes could trigger that transformation into cancer. To me, it wasn't worth the risk. That may not be true of other patients.

What was the prep like?

I went through an oncology department so my prep was to fill in many, many legal documents that said I understood that my fertility would be gone and could not come back. Otherwise I faced no pushback from my surgical team.

The prep for the surgery was the same as is for any other same day procedure. No food after midnight, bath with unscented soap.

What does a hysterectomy feel like?

You're under general anesthesia so, at the time nothing. I elected to have laparoscopic surgery and my surgeon used a DaVinci robot. Which, is SO FUCKING COOL. They asked as they were wheeling me in if I had questions and I was like !!! YES I want to know more about the robot. There is an option to have a vaginal hysterectomy where the uterus is pulled through an incision in the vagina.

What's recovery like? Do you have scars?

I'm not going to lie, the first day or so was pretty awful. I had trouble walking and getting up and down off the toilet. My boyfriend had to help get me with a lot of basic functions. But after the first week, I was fine.

I was also pretty bloated following surgery as they inflate the area with air. Be open with anyone in your home, you're going to fart for a bit. Depending on which pain meds you receive (again, I went through oncology, I was given Percocet) you may be constipated which HURTS if you push after surgery.

I do have four tiny scars that are the length of my pinky nail. After two years, one has basically disappeared and one is in my belly button. I've explained the remaining scars away as falling as a child and people believe it.

Do you regret having a hysterectomy?

Again, my reasoning for doing this was not political but the answer is no. I categorically do not regret the surgery at all. When I woke up I sobbed that I was free and that it was over. I suffered for almost a decade and have never been happier.

Do you still get a period?

I do but not in the sense that I bleed. Again no uterus. But I do get a 'period' where I get cramps and moody. My hormones are still firing but often misfire, like I get bladder cramps (thanks Prostaglandins) because the hormones are looking for my uterus, thus I also get period diarrhea. There's a fun video from gross science that covers period poops. I do not have the period weight gain or acne that I had when I was menstruating. But that's my experience, I'm curious what others have experienced.

My hormones function normally because I still have my ovaries.

Do you have any other side effects?

I had my cervix removed as well and that is partially responsible for my ability to get wet during sex. I can still get wet but it is a little different. Climaxing also feels different, almost muted sometimes, which sucks. But I can still climax, I've just had to work differently with my partner.

I also did not have any post surgical complications but I know two other folks who had hystos and one had trouble urinating right after and needed a catheter for about a week.

What else do I want you to know?

I need you to understand that a full hysterectomy means you cannot and can never get pregnant. There is no way to take eggs from you and this cannot be reversed. Do not be mistaken--this IS permanent sterilization.

I am not stating this to scare you but to make sure you understand there is no going back. I think at this very political moment anxiety is SO high but please really assess whether or not you ever want biological children. If you do not that's ok, and a hysterectomy might be an option for you. Others have suggested other options which as also permanent sterilization techniques.

My ask box is always open for questions on hysterectomies. Make an informed decision and surround yourself with folks who love you.

if you're looking for a sign to get the hysterectomy, get it. if you are wondering if you will feel freer, less burdened, more optimistic, lighter without your uterus, you will. if you simply want to never get periods again, get the hysterectomy. if you want to have sex with a different person every day forever and never worry about getting pregnant, get the hysterectomy. if you don't know whether or not you want to stay on hormones, get the hysterectomy anyway. if you're afraid you're too young, and that people will judge you, get it anyway. you don't have to live in a hostile body. you are the one who gets to decide what it will and will not do.

[persevereforahappyending]

This isn't Your Fault (Rescue)

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: During your distracted state Tara took the opportunity to wiggle her arm out of your grasp and began marching down the alley.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

You and Tara walked down the streets of New York to her apartment. You had finished your classes for the semester and were finally on break. It wasn’t often you and Tara truly got to be alone to go out and do something, Sam or your mom were always wanting someone to be around. It was almost a year later when they finally decided to let up and let you and Tara live normal lives again, after a lot of begging from Tara. You personally didn’t mind, you didn’t like to go out anyway, though being able to go over to Tara’s or back to your house without an escort would have been nice.

The two of you had just grabbed dinner at one of your favorite restaurants, and you had your arms wrapped around each other as you walked down the street. You were passing an alley way when you heard something fall. You and Tara both turned, squinting your eyes to see what made the noise but saw nothing. Tara started to pull away from you and move towards the dark alley.

“Didn’t you hear that?” She asked, when you quickly pulled her back to your side.

“Yeah,” you said, looking at her like she had grown two heads. “Which is why I’m stopping you from going down a dark and creepy alley.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “You’re being ridiculous.”

Your eyes widened and you couldn’t help but stare at Tara. Until you were attacked yourself and no longer had to keep your relationship a secret did you truly understand where Sam was coming from. You’d admit Sam was just a bit overprotective, but you also couldn’t deny that with a sister like Tara, her overprotectiveness was warranted. Tara very well knew the dangers of the world and of her life in particular, just because Ghostface was gone didn’t mean there weren’t still the random crazy’s that tried to go after and threaten her and Sam.

During your distracted state Tara took the opportunity to wiggle her arm out of your grasp and began marching down the alley. You snapped out of it almost as soon as Tara was out of your hands and without giving it a second thought you took off after her. You really hoped it was nothing and you wouldn’t have to make Tara feel guilty for the rest of her life if the two of you got murdered.

“Tara,” you whispered. You ran up next to her, sticking close to her side, for her protection, definitely not because you were scared.

The two of you froze when you heard more rattling. It sounded like someone had bumped a garbage can or was riffling around in one. You were seriously hoping you’d find some homeless man digging through trash or a worker from one of the nearby restaurants taking out the trash for the night. Those were the best-case scenarios you could come up with because anything else led to one or both of your deaths.

“Over here,” Tara whispered, seeming to not have heard you, or she was ignoring you. She grabbed your arm and began dragging you towards the trash bins against a brick wall.

You groaned but followed along. One of the trash cans was knocked over, the lid on the ground next to it. You furrowed your brow, there wasn’t anyone near it, and the alley was a dead end so it wasn’t like the person could have run away. There wasn’t anywhere for someone to hide either, unless they were rather small. There was an old pallet propped up against the brick wall and a blue tarp that had been dirtied from the rain and usual alley gunk draped partially over the pallet.

Something shuffled, moving the tarp and making you take a step back. Tara wasn’t deterred though. Tara pressed forward and crouched down, getting halfway under the tarp.

“Wh-what are you doing?” you whispered, your voice going even higher. “Get out of there,” you moved forward and began to puller her back by her waist. Tara waved her arm back, knocking your hands off her. “Tara,” you whispered harshly.

You let out a silent groan and kicked at the pavement. Even if you didn’t die in the alley, you would certainly die if anything happened to Tara. Sam would probably even murder you herself, you being her new favorite person wouldn’t even be able to save you if something happened to Tara while you were with her.

Tara finally backed up out of the tarp and you couldn’t help but let out a sigh, she didn’t get murdered in front of you, but now she was going to have to survive you. “What the hell were you thinking?” you asked, your voice no longer a whisper. “Who goes down a dark alley in the middle of night!” you gestured at your surroundings. “Who goes under a tarp after a strange noise?” you gestured at the tarp. “Seriously, babe, I…” your words quickly died when Tara turned around and in her arms was a tiny kitten.

You were sure you were making heart eyes at the little guy, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “You were saying?” Tara said, raising an eyebrow.

You reached out and scratched under the kitten’s chin with your finger. He was definitely black but if he had any other markings or colors you couldn’t tell, his fur was caked in mud and who knew what else from the alley.

Your head snapped up as if suddenly remembering where you were. “You still brought us down a creepy alley,” you said, taking your finger away from the kitten to point at Tara.

“Here,” she said, shoving the kitten into your arms. You didn’t have time process what was happening as you instinctively reached out, taking the kitten in your arms. “Put him in your jacket.”

You looked down at the little guy in your arms with a frown, you could smell him from where he was. You looked up to see Tara glaring at you. You grumbled and stuck the little guy in your jacket, making sure to keep an arm around him so he was secure and warm.

Tara began walking off back out of the alley finally. You ran to catch up, adjusting the kitten as he squirmed in your hold. “Sam’s not going to be happy,” you said as you fell into step beside her.

“She said I could have a pet,” Tara said with a wave of her hand.

“She said she’d think about it.”

Tara continued facing forward as she rolled her eyes. “It’s basically the same thing,” she waved it off again. “Who cares.”

You let out a shaky breath and continued to follow after Tara. Sam was definitely going to care, and she would be the first to point out that she never officially agreed to it. You weren’t about to try arguing with Tara though and there was no way you’d be leaving the little guy in your arms on the streets now that you’ve rescued him.

When the three of you finally got back to Tara’s apartment, she opened the door as quietly as possible and peeked her head in. “Sam!” she called. “Sam?” you strained your ears, trying to listen for any sign of movement inside. “She’s still at work,” Tara whispered back to you and pushed the door open fully.

You followed Tara into the apartment and instantly took the kitten to the bathroom. You plopped the little guy down in the sink and shrugged off your jacket that you were now definitely going to have to wash. Tara came back in with a washcloth and some hand soap.

“We can’t use that,” you said, nodding at the soap. “Kittens are too sensitive. We either need kitten specific or fragrance-free dish soap.”

Tara raised an eyebrow at you, and you just shrugged. She took the hand soap back and came back a moment later with the correct dish soap. “It’s not a permanent method,” you said as you wet the washcloth a bit before adding a drop of the soap. “But it will clean the little guy up for now.”

“We’ll get you all the proper stuff tomorrow,” Tara said in a baby voice as she scratched the kitten behind his ear.

You raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t say anything. You weren’t sure how she intended to hide the kitten from Sam and also buy it stuff before telling her sister anything. You kept your mouth shut though and got to work cleaning off the little guy. You smiled as you wiped all the gunk off him, making sure to avoid his eyes. The kitten behaved well enough, hardly ever meowing or trying to run away, but you were sure he was just terrified and had no idea what was going on.

“There we go,” you whispered as you finished up. You finished dabbing him with a wet corner of the cloth, making sure to get out all the soap.

Tara shoved you aside when you were done and held him up high as if he were Simba from Lion King. When you got full view of him all cleaned up you saw he was all black and very fuzzy. Little tufts of fur stuck off the tops of his ears, making them look too big for his little head.

“Tara!” Sam called out, making both you and Tara freeze. “I’m home!”

Tara shoved the kitten into your arms and cracked open the bathroom door to peek her head out. “I’m going to distract her,” she whispered back to you.

“Wait, what?” you whispered but Tara was already opening the door. “No, wait, what am I supposed to do with this?” you looked down at the kitten in your hands.

You inched your way closer to the door and tried listening as Tara attempted to stall Sam. You let out a sigh and looked down at the kitten, shaking your head as Tara kept asking questions about Sam’s day. You loved her dearly, but your girlfriend sucked at stalling, if she wanted to make Sam suspicious though then she was doing a fantastic job. You were surprised at times that the two of you kept your relationship secret for so long because of how terrible Tara was at keeping stuff from Sam.

You knew you couldn’t stay in the bathroom all night, so you looked down, you silently apologized to the kitten before shoving him in the pocket of your hoodie. You were lucky he was small enough, he fit perfectly, now you just had to make it to Tara’s room without drawing suspicion. As soon as you opened the bathroom door a little more you heard a meow and looked down to see the kitten sticking his head out of one side of your pocket. You brought a finger to your lips to hush him, as if he could understand you. You put one hand in the pocket to keep it on the kitten, hopefully keeping him in place and quiet for the next thirty seconds.

Almost as soon as you stepped out of the bathroom you were seen by Sam and being called over to join her and Tara. Your eyes widened and you flicked a glance at Tara to see her with the same expression. You swallowed nervously before making your way across the kitchen.

“You joining us for dinner?” Sam asked.

“Sure,” you said. You smiled and hoped it would help cover your anxiety of the kitten moving around in your pocket.

“Assume you’re staying the night as well.” Sam’s back was to you as she opened the box for the frozen pizza, she was getting ready to throw in the oven.

“If you don’t mind.” Sam never minded when you stayed the night anymore, most times she insisted, especially when it was late like it was now. You still always felt the need to ask, you never wanted to seem rude or just assume it was okay for you to stay the night if Sam ever happened to not want you there for some reason.

“Of course,” Sam shrugged like she always did.

Sam put the pizza on the stone and then slid it into the oven. She set the timer and then turned around, leaning against the counter as her eyes flicked from you to Tara. You tightened your grip on the kitten that was trying to escape your pocket. Sam hadn’t looked down to see your sweatshirt moving yet but she narrowed her eyes as she glanced from you to Tara and back.

“What’s going on?” she asked cautiously.

“Nothing,” you and Tara said at the same time. You internally smacked yourself, that was the opposite of not seeming suspicious.

Sam opened her mouth but quickly shut it when a meow echoed through out the room. Your eyes widened and you didn’t even react as Sam glanced around the room. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Tara said unconvincingly.

Sam narrowed her eyes at her sister, then she whipped her head back around, looking directly at your pocket. You looked down to see the kitten once again sticking his head out. You sighed and took him out the rest of the way since you were officially caught.

“No,” Sam sighed. “No pets,” she looked at Tara.

“You said I could get one,” Tara instantly said, pointing at finger at Sam.

“I said maybe,” Sam raised a finger.

You shot Tara a ‘I told you so’ look which she promptly ignored. “Come on,” Tara begged. “He was on the street,” she gestured at the kitten in your arms. “You really want us to throw him back out there?” she looked up at Sam, blinking with her best puppy dog eyes.

Sam looked at the kitten in your hands as you stepped closer. She narrowed her eyes as the little guy looked up at her, letting out another meow. “He’s a survivor,” Tara continued. “Like us.” You and Sam both gave Tara a sideway glance, she seemed to really be pushing hard to keep the kitten, grasping at whatever straws she could.

Sam looked at the kitten again and sighed as she ran a hand through her hair. “You have to take care of him,” she said.

“Yes!” Tara squealed, not letting Sam finish before she started jumping up and down and running to hug her sister.

“And make sure he doesn’t have fleas,” she pointed at Tara.

Tara nodded. “Of course! We’ll go to the pet store first thing in the morning!”

Sam narrowed her eyes as she stared at Tara for another second before finally nodding, seeming to accept Tara’s answer. Tara grabbed the kitten out of your hands and took off with him into the living room. You gave Sam a grateful smile before following after Tara.

“What should we name you?” she asked, staring at the kitten with a furrowed brow as she concentrated very hard.

“How about Perseus?” you suggested, dropping down next to Tara.

She furrowed her brow as she looked at you. “Greek mythology, really?” she wrinkled her nose.

“He’s a hero!” you defended, frowning at her reaction. “Slayed Medusa.”

“Anything else?”

You glance at the kitten then at Tara. “Joel…” you quickly glanced at the floor, suddenly finding it very interesting.

“The Last of us?” Tara frowned as she glared at you once again. “Really?”

You shrugged and threw your hands up in defeat. “Well, what do you got?”

“Midnight,” she smiled proudly at her option.

You scoffed and gave Tara your own glare. “That’s so basic.”

“I found him, I should get to name him,” she narrowed her eyes at you.

“You found him after dragging me down a dark alley.”

“What?” Sam’s frantic voice came from the kitchen.

“I should get some say,” you continued.

Tara narrowed her eyes, not even acknowledging her sister. “Fine,” she grumbled. “What else you got?”

You tapped a finger on your chin as you looked at the kitten, trying to figure out what name best fit him. “What if we go Marvel?” you asked. “He’s a fighter,” you scratched under his chin, smiling as he lifted his head to give you more access and started purring. “How about Steve?”

Tara bobbed her head back and forth as she considered the name. “Maybe,” she said, still deep in thought.

You smiled, at least it wasn’t a no, the two of you were one step closer. Tara held the kitten up again, tilting her head back and forth as she observed him. You looked at Tara and then the kitten before your eyes widened and you shot to your feet.

“I got it!” you said, a wide smile on your face. Tara raised an eyebrow as she awaited your idea. “Kovu!”

Tara’s eyes lit up as she also jumped to her feet. “Perfect!” she said. She leaned forward and captured your lips, catching you slightly off guard. You barely had time to reciprocate before she was pulling away. “How is it possibly to love you even more,” she whispered against your lips before going in for another kiss, this time you were prepared.

The two of you didn’t pull away until you felt the kitten wiggling between the two of you. You broke the kiss and looked down to see little Kovu was getting squished between the two of you. You both chuckled before dropping back down on to the couch.

Once the pizza was done Sam brought out a plate for you and Tara. Then the four of you sat in the living room, eating pizza and watching a random movie on TV. You and Tara would have to go to the pet store first thing when they opened to get Kovu some food, but you figured he would be okay for the night.

After you guys finished the pizza, you grabbed a blanket to throw over you and Tara as you cuddled up on the couch. Kovu got on the top of the blanket and walked around, kneading his feet as he got comfortable. Before you knew it, you and Tara were passed out, your heads resting against each other, and little Kovu was curled up between the two of you.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @fanboy7794 @noooodlessstuff @tatumrileyslover @alexkolax @canvascoloredin @youralphawolf72 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

[shiggyhatesme]

smiley

chapter 1

pairings & cw: prohero!katsuki x fem!reader, following after timeskip, kat is early 20s, language, ushy gushiiinesssss, oh also dad!bakugo

monday 9:05am

it was your favorite time of year. soon after the silly tradition of the groundhog coming up, and to your liking, not seeing his shadow, spring had arrived. that meant gentle breeze’s whispering sweet songs through your hair, warmer temperatures, and blooming flowers.

you walked through the doors of your flower shop and set your bag down on the counter, turning the lights on as you walked through.

vibrant colors of all your favorite flora surrounding you, filling you with warmth.

you began to prepare the flowers, processing some of the new shipments, watering the array of different options, and submitting orders before eventually opening the store.

it was a small quiet shop in the middle of Musutafu, though as quiet as the inside was, you had your fair share of seeing the pro’s outside at work. you didn’t mind though, it kept you entertained throughout your days. business was also never a problem.

you were in the middle of arranging a bouquet for a wedding when you heard the bell on the door ring.

back facing whoever had entered, you spoke “welcome in! how can i help—“

you cut yourself off as you turned around, not expecting to see the no. 2 (or no. 1, it changed often) pro hero, dynamite standing in your entryway.

he quirked a brow at you, “‘fuck’s that face for?”

you realized that you more than likely looked like an absolute idiot with your mouth agape and eyes wide. you cleared your throat as you became a normal person again, throwing him your best attempt at a smile.

“sorry! how can i help you?”

the pro scoffed as he inched forward, meeting you at the front counter. he looked, sort of, uncomfortable. his hand reaching around his head to scratch his neck.

“i was in the area and remembered that my brat is having her kindergarten graduation soon, so i uh,” he trailed, looking away from you as he spoke “need ya to make a stupid small bouquet for her.”

you almost exploded right there from cuteness, but you figured that wouldn’t be a great second impression.

you clasped your hands in front of your chest in excitement practically gushing, “oh how sweet! congratulations to your little one!”

katsuki let out a huff before rolling his eyes, hopefully the mask did enough to cover the subtle rose tinting his cheeks.

you chuckled at him for a moment before speaking, “did your wife leave you with this errand?”

you watched as he tensed, his ruby eyes looking at the counter beneath his hands. “i uh, i’m not married.”

your face fell and you slapped your hands over your obnoxiously loud mouth, “oh my god! sorry that was personal! i’ll shut up now god wow i’m so—“

his eye began to twitch as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“stop yer rambling woman, it’s fine. just help me here.” he interrupted, leaving you to mentally facepalm with cherry red cheeks.

you straightened your posture before tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “did you have anything in mind? any colors or specific flowers?”

the spiky haired male shook his head while waving a gloved hand at you, “nah, i don’t know anything about this shit. the brat loves yellow and blue, do with that what you will.”

you nodded excitedly and jotted it down on a notepad.

“now i know you go by ‘great explosion murder god dynamite’, but is there a better, or perhaps shorter, name and number i could put you down by?” you joked, clicking the top of your pen as you looked to him.

he scoffed, crossing his arms, “tch, just put katsuki down. my number is xxx-xxxx, and if you leak it i’ll kill yer ass.”

you snorted as you wrote down his name and number, sticking it on the order wall for future reference. you walked back over to him as you brushed your hands against your apron. “alrighty! i’ll give you a ring when it’s done, which will more than likely be in the next two days.”

he grumbled a quick ‘thank you’ before turning around and heading back out. you watched as he slid his gauntlets back on, finding it sweet that he took them off before coming inside.

as you worked on your unfinished orders for the rest of the day, the sun beginning to cast a warm glow on the pastel walls of your shop, you found yourself thinking of katsuki. you didn’t keep up with the hero world much, but you had seen him in bits and pieces before. and boy was he much more dreamy in person.

a small tinge of excitement wavered throughout your body as you planned out his daughter’s bouquet, questions that weren’t any of your business, flashing through your mind.

you didn’t even know he had a daughter, you thought he was around your age, early 20’s. did he have a girlfriend? was the mother present?

why are you wondering these things when you’ll only ever see him once more out of your entire life?

you shook those thoughts away as the night grew older, eventually closing up shop and heading home, the remnants of winter blowing against your cheeks as you began your trek.

wednesday 11:02am

you didn’t hear the jingle of the doorbell behind you, your mind wrapped in god knows what as you watered the plants behind the counter.

katsuki took this as an opportunity to drink up the sight of you, the same sight that he was unable to shake from his mind the day he met you. your sickeningly sweet nature that complimented your soft features, your hair tied up in a knot behind you.

he cleared his throat before throwing a quick ‘oi’ your way.

you jumped at the sound, almost dropping the hose before turning your head towards the front, spotting that all-too-familiar face. turning off the hose you walked up to the front, looking at the watch on your wrist with furrowed brows.

“s-sorry i wasn’t expecting you this quick! i swear i just called you 5 minutes ago.”

katsuki looked away abashed, knowing full well that as soon as he got your message he flew here as quickly as possible. would he ever admit that? no.

he let out a scoff as he crossed his arms, looking out the window. “tch, i was patrolling over here. figured i’d just pick it up now.”

he was in fact not patrolling over here. he was indeed about a 25 minute walk away.

your mouth formed an ‘o’ as you took in his words, clasping your hands in front of your chest in excitement to show him what you made. “well i guess it worked out perfect then! the bouquet is ready, let me grab it.”

you walked to the back where all of the finished orders were and smiled to yourself, grabbing your creation that you were in fact, very proud of.

it’s totally not like you put 100% more effort into this one than the others because it was katsuki, no way..

you walked out with a big smile on your face, hiding the bouquet behind your back as you neared him. “okay…tada!”

you placed it on the counter in front of you for him to observe, holding your breath as he looked it over, pleading it would be to his liking. you took your craft seriously, so this meant a lot to you.

you watched as he fought back the tiniest smirk looking down at it, taking in the array of hydrangeas, blue roses, brunerra, mixed in with the golden yellow daffodils, tulips and marigolds. and in the center of them all sat a cute ‘congratulations’ card, poking above the flowers.

you broke the silence, it becoming too much for you, “please tell me you like it. i can’t quit my profession right now.”

katsuki’s red orbs found yours as he rolled his eyes and let out a small chuckle, “don’t be an idiot. they’re nice. i think the brat will love ‘em.”

you released the breath you had been holding and relaxed, silently celebrating.

“thank god! i’m so happy i was able to do this for you guys. i hope her graduation goes well.”

he waved you off before reaching in his pocket for, what you had assumed, was his wallet. you quickly grabbed his, muscular as fuck, arm before he could pull it out.

“please don’t worry about it! on the house, it’s the least i can do, you’re out there kicking ass all day. just tell the little one i said congrats.” you smiled, noticing him looking at you like you belonged in an asylum.

“listen smiley, it’s really not—“

you cut him off as you grabbed the bouquet and shoved it in his hands, walking around the counter to grab his shoulders and guide him out the door.

“nope and nope! go back to kicking ass and maybe come back one day to tell me how she liked it. ciao, katsuki.” you blurted before shoving him out of your glass doors and locking them behind him, watching as he turned around absolutely dumbfounded. you waved him a ‘goodbye’ before turning around and getting back to whatever work you had left.

a couple minutes later you heard a soft knock at your front doors, forgetting that you had locked them. you walked out of the back to see katsuki standing there, an unreadable expression on his face.

you cocked an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms, causing his eyes to roll as he pointed at the lock.

you huffed as you unlocked the door and slowly opened it, poking your head out.

“i already told you, you’re not paying.”

he grumbled in response before meeting your gaze, his brows furrowed, a seemingly common expression for him.

“not that, dumbass. i’d be an idiot if i left here without taking the opportunity to ask, so—“

you looked up at him as he took in a breath, your heart pounding in your chest.

“would you…want to go on a date with me?”

[endereies]

SOAKED THROUGH - MS

No Nut November - Day 6

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ Matt finds you outside, watching the rain and he decides to have fun with you

The last week had consisted of awful weather. Rain spluttered from the sky at almost every hour like clockwork. It hammered down on each of the windows, smashing against the glass harshly. The surrounding trees constantly ad their leaves dropping with the weight of the water droplets. The clouds were dark against the night sky that was dotted with stars. The orange glow of the street lights made it seem inviting.

That’s how you found yourself leaning against the door frame of your backdoor. You were protected by the overhang that allowed you to stand there without getting wet. The occasional drop that got pushed by the wind splashed against the soft material of your pyjamas. You hadn’t felt it, not enough for it to bother you.

The rain always reminded you of home. Whenever the rain lasted all day, your family would wind up together playing games and simply bonding. As you grew older, those moments came heard to come by. No one lived in the same house anymore, they had families, jobs. You weren’t going to blame anyone for life getting in the way, except life itself. Years went by without the rain providing comfort, unless it came from the ghosted memories.

The doorframe was lined with metal that sent a shiver down through your body when your skin touched it without warning. Somehow in the harshest of weather you found beauty in it. The cobwebs were covered in dew drops, plants and wildlife refreshed in the needed water. The way you’d find the odd light shine so perfectly as to create a rainbow shine through the water. It was something you could admire for yours.

Hours had lengthened into the night and by now it was early morning. When Matt shifted in search of you, he failed to find you along side him. The sheets were cold, your absence had existed a while. It wasn’t often you’d leave the room, for a drink, the bathroom. But never for that long. He grew curious, almost worried. He abandoned the covers from on top of him, grabbing a nearby shirt to trap his remaining heat. He didn’t care how he looked, he was more concerned about you. That was until he felt the chill from the backdoor, following with the sight of you against it. He heard the murmur of a small tune that stemmed from your phone next to you.

“Baby? What are you doing up…” His words slightly slurred with fatigue. It was audibly deeper with a rasp but nothing that didn’t scare you.

“Matt…sorry. Did I wake you?” He quickly shaked his head, drawing himself next to you. You leant into his touch, his warm palms contradicting the cold morning.

He pulled you into his warm embrace, burying his head into your neck, surrounded by your familiar scent. It was obvious he was weary from freshly awakening but the comfort of you next to him wasn’t something he was going to deny. “What are you doing here, aren’t you cold?”

“Not really” You offered him an innocent smile, one that turned into admiration when you stared at the rain once more.

“It’s really coming down, huh?” His breathe fanned your skin.

“It’s beautiful though. Isn’t it.” You mused, your eyes fixed on how the rain glistened in the outdoor lighting.

Matt’s attention was then drawn to the music that filled the silence. The melody was calming, soothing. “What are you listening to?” Before you could answer, he picked up your phone to see the beginning of a ‘Cigarettes After Sex’ to start playing. It was recognisable and he smiled at the familiarity. He watched as your hips swayed to the music, something you must’ve picked up subconsciously. The phone returned to its original place on the kitchen side.

He couldn’t help but find it captivating, the way your body so smoothly swayed to the song. His eyes lingered on you, taking in the small details. Your hair, your lips, the way your cheeks slightly redden in the slight cold.

He pulled away from you and took this as chance to stand outside the door, barely under the overhang.

“Matt?” You couldn’t inquire anymore before he spoke again. “Dance with me? Please.”

His hand reached out towards you, and you couldn’t help but give in to his infectious smile. It wasn’t practical, both of you weren’t in suitable clothing and with your feet against the concrete it was guaranteed that you’d get cold. Yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to care and before you knew it, your hand laid in yours.

A smirk covered his face as he pulled you towards him. Your hand landed on his chest, and he extended his other hand above your heads. With a flick of his wrist, you took it as a sign to spin against him, the twirl making your hair push out. The rain had immediately impacted you both and it was quick to see droplets fall down his face.

He brought you closer to him after you spun, your noses barely touching as the rain fell between you, the feeling of wet clothing stronger by far.

A stroke of air forces from your nose as you lower and shake your head. “This is stupid…” You chuckled slightly at the fact you two were awkwardly dancing in the middle of a storm.

“So? I’d rather be stupid with you.”

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03

© ENDEREIES 2024

[sashaisready]

Since You've Been Gone: Chapter 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

After a regrettable first meeting in the cemetery, you discover that you have something in common with a certain member of the Avengers. Unfortunately, you can't choose your neighbours, even in death.

(Setting is approx. post TFATWS)

Hi, I'm back! I have no idea where this came from, or where it's going! So apologies as updates may not be consistent while I figure it out. Warnings for death of parents, grief, mentions of cemetery/graves - please tread carefully if these are triggers for you.

🍂

It was a chilly Autumn day, but not unbearable. Your coat could more than handle the frigid breeze. You squinted at the headstone as you crouched on your knees, angling your head to make sure you hadn’t left any streaks or marks from the polish. Satisfied with your performance, you trimmed a few of the roses that were leaning against it before standing and taking a step back to admire your handiwork.

Immaculate as always, so neat you could almost be fooled into thinking you weren’t even outside. You could hear your parents’ voices in your head now, joking about being able to keep their graves far cleaner that you ever managed your bedroom to be, their frequent nags falling on deaf adolescent ears.

You smiled sadly as you looked at the intricately engraved text below their names on the shared stone:

Beloved parents taken too soon,

Waiting in heaven to be reunited with their only daughter

You’d never really like that phrasing; it was a little too whimsical for your tastes – especially all these years later. But a recently orphaned teenager wasn’t exactly an expert in choosing the best headstone wording. You’d been more than happy to let your aunt and the funeral home lead the way, too paralysed by grief to make even the smallest decisions in the hellscape that was death admin.

Still, you’d never want to upset your aunt by getting it changed, there’s a lot of strange emotion tied up in grief even when time has passed, and that mourning teen has become an adult. And it wasn’t like new headstones were cheap anyway…

As you packed up your cleaning kit your attention was drawn to the two graves next to your parents’ - George and Winnifred Barnes. They had both passed several decades earlier, long before your parents were buried next to them. They had died only a few months apart according to the text…maybe they’d couldn’t survive without each other.

It was easy to infer that they no longer had anyone left earthside. The graves had been long untouched, unkempt, and overgrown, the inscriptions getting harder to read – and you’d never seen any evidence of a visitor in all your time coming here. Except of course when the cemetery staff did one of their occasional mass clean-ups of the neglected graves.

About a year ago, you’d started tending to them alongside your parents. You weren’t sure why, it just seemed like the right thing to do. They were neighbours after all. And you’d want someone to do the same for your mum and dad if you weren’t around.

You’d cleaned their stones, wiped away the grime and given them a decent polish. You’d trimmed back the weeds and laid fresh flowers. The first time took a while, but after you’d got them to a reasonable standard it was all pretty easy to maintain.

You’d often wondered who they were. What they were like. The dates suggested they’d died of old age, a luxury your parents didn’t have. Were they kind? Funny? What hobbies did they have? They were around during the war, that must’ve been tough. You knew from the inscriptions that they had children who would’ve been over hundred by now. Maybe no grandchildren which is why nobody came by to see them anymore. It made you feel sad, how we could all be just a few generations away from being forgotten entirely. At least you could try to remember them.

You gave their graves a quick once over, took away the dead flowers and added some fresh roses in their place.

“Well, I’m done,” you said aloud, “see you soon, mum and dad. And you too, George and Winnifred. Sleep well”.

You sighed, walking back to your car and back to your life. You knew all too well that the dead may be still, but the world continues around them.

🍂

A week later you were back at the cemetery with your cleaning kit slung over your back, your arms full of fresh flowers.

“Afternoon, mum and dad,” you said as you placed your kit and flowers down and pulled out the foam pad that you used to kneel on, “and you, George and Winnifred”.

“Work has been kicking my ass this week,” you sighed as you got to work on your parents’ stone. “There’s only so much I can take of Brock’s moaning about the numbers…it’s getting harder not to smash my keyboard over his head – yeah I know, violence isn’t the answer, blah-blah-blah…”

You worked diligently, chatting away as you went through your maintenance tasks. It was nice, talking to them like this. You could say anything, really. No judgements, no admonishment, just silent acceptance of everything you told them. It was a bit like therapy for you. You often imagined your parents were sitting behind you as you spoke, just out of sight.

You liked to use old newspaper to buff up the marble. As you gathered your things together, you glanced at some of the headlines from the copy you’d brought with you. Lots of dreary grimness unfortunately. There was also a longread feature on the Avengers and where they were now, their photographs lined up across the top of the page. It was sad that a few of them were dead now, or at least no longer here. You felt a pang of sadness for their loved ones – you knew what that was like.

You didn’t know all the details of The Avengers and their associates, but like everyone else you knew the basics. It was a strange time, just a decade or so ago nobody had ever thought superheroes really existed…but then all of these ‘enhanced’ people started crawling out of the woodwork, revealing weapons and technology that previously had only existed in sci-fi movies. It was hard to believe, really.

You scanned the newspaper page, looking at the pictures for a few moments. You took your time studying their faces before sighing and placing it back down.

“All done…now let’s help out George and Winnie over here, looks like you guys need some new flowers…and all that heavy rain we’ve been having has really done a number on your stones…let me just-”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the gruff voice behind you demanded, causing you such a shock that you nearly joined your parents.

You spun your body away from the graves, horrified to see a man looming over you as you stared at him open-mouthed in surprise. You hadn’t heard him approach, not quite understanding how you hadn’t noticed him coming at all…

“I said what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he repeated to you, his blue eyes alight with anger.

He was big. Bigger than you. Even under his coat you could see his broad shoulders. A mop of dark hair framed his face, most likely quite an attractive face when it wasn’t pulled into a furious sneer like it was now. He wore black gloves as he pointed at you accusingly. The fact that you were kneeling on the ground while he stood towering at his full height had not gone unnoticed by you.

There was something strangely familiar about him, but you couldn’t place it. Did he shop at the same market as you? You couldn’t quite…

“I’m…I’m just-” you spluttered as you fumbled for the words, still caught in your surprise and the fact that this normally serene time had been interrupted by a stranger yelling at you…

“Get away from there!” he snarled.

You quickly realised he was talking about the Barnes’ graves. You bounced backwards, landing painfully on your ass in your desperation to do what he said. He had a chilling air of authority that you didn’t want to screw with. You weren’t trying to piss off an angry man while you were out here all alone…

“I was just tidying them up,” you managed weakly as you sat up and clutched at the flowers.

“Nobody asked you to,” he scoffed in response as he leaned over and ran a gloved finger over Winnifred’s inscription, “you shouldn’t be clambering all over graves of people you don’t know”.

You frowned as the initial shock of the encounter wore off, now annoyed now at his abrupt rudeness towards you when you only had good intentions.

“Oh, and you know them, do you?” you snapped back sharply as your felt your emotions surge and your eyes water, your cheeks hot with mortification, “well, nobody has been to visit those graves in years so-”

“Yeah, actually I do know them - I’m their son,” he spat furiously.

Your head bounced back in surprise and confusion. You curled your lip and frowned at his strange claim, he appeared to be his mid-to-late 30s at most – many years away from the very elderly man he’d need to be for that to be true.

What was his goal here, exactly?

Was this guy just looking to start an argument and decided you’d be his target? Spouting off nonsense about random graves just to mess with you?

And where did you know him from?

Despite your survival instincts, you couldn’t help but fight back. You didn’t appreciate being messed with at the best of times, let alone when you were only here to visit your deceased loved ones. Who came to a graveyard to fuck with people? And yell at them?!

“Huh? Son?” you scoffed with derision and jabbed a finger towards the inscriptions about their children, “well, that can’t be true as that would mean their kids would have to be over a hundred…and how many one-hundred-year-olds look like you…?”

“I’m 107 years old, actually,” he said venomously. He sounded utterly sincere despite the ludicrousness of his claim. His face was sullen, his eyes piercing.

You ignored the shudder that threatened to roll through you in response. It was a strangely familiar expression on his face.

Where had you seen that look?

“Oh, yeah! You’re 107…Sure!” you laughed sarcastically. “You just have the greatest plastic surgeon of all time, in fact there’s a bunch of centenarians wandering around looking thirt-”

You trailed off as a wave of recognition suddenly hit you and the penny dropped. Oh. Oh.

He wasn’t from the market…

It was him.

Your eyes panned down to the crumpled newspaper lying next to you. The same man’s face scrutinised you from the page, an exact mirror image of the brooding 3D version in front of you. A little older now, but still unmistakably the same man.

Oh!

Now you remembered that same picture on the news. Read about the terrible things he’d done before when he was under hypnosis. For the Nazis? The Soviets? Both? Flashes of recollection hit you at once, disjointed and scattered.

It wasn’t really him doing all of it, it was a mind control thing, they’d said. He was like the Captain…the first one from the 40s. Kept young…somehow. He had a robot arm. Then there was the big government pardon after he’d helped to save the world. The deep dive the New York Times had done on his assassin past. What had they said he was called? Iceman? Winter? Winter hitman?

The Winter Soldier.

Barton? Baines? No, Barnes.

Barnes.

As in…son of Winnifred and George?

Ah.

He must’ve seen your train of thought written all over your face as he nodded solemnly at you.

“Yeah. It’s me. And I only found their resting place a few weeks ago,” he said with disdain.

You got to your feet, taking a few cautious steps backwards. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You didn’t need to be a jerk - I’ve just been coming here for years, and I’d never seen…”

You trailed off, he didn’t care. His focus was on the graves, one gloved hand gripping the top of his father’s stone as he peered down at the grass below.

You turned to leave, giving him his privacy, “I’m sorry for your loss,” you mumbled quietly as you picked up your kit.

You started to head back to your car, then turned to face him again after a couple of steps. You warily moved back towards him and leaned over, placing a single flower between the feet of his parents’ graves. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pick it up and throw it back in your face, either.

As you walked away, you thought you felt the weight of his gaze on your back.

🍂

Another week passed and you were back at the cemetery once more, working the usual routine and doing your best to forget what had happened the last time you were here. Upsetting a war veteran slash Avengers superhero by accusing him of not being his parents’ child was impressively incompetent, even by your standards. But in your defence, he did just start yelling at you out of nowhere. And you were only trying to help. And he was a literal defiance of nature, time, and aging…

But then again, people weren’t always their best selves in a cemetery. It wasn’t exactly Happy Hour over here. And you’d probably freak out too if you caught a stranger tinkering around with the resting place of your parents. The parents who died of old age while you were cryogenically frozen and a prisoner in your own body…

You’d done a little more reading up on him, James Buchanan Barnes. ‘Bucky’. The man behind the scary winter soldier mask. The older images of him in his combat gear were chilling, as were the alleged stats of his kills, but mainly you just felt immense empathy for a man out of time. A man who had lost his youth, a limb, his autonomy, and everybody he once knew from his old life.

You tried to put it out of your mind, catching your parents up on what they’d missed and pretty-ing things up a little around their plot. You didn’t touch the Barnes’ this time, just gave them a little wave and concentrated on your own flesh and blood.

You were a million miles away, lost in the quiet fog that often seemed to overtake you when you were working in the cemetery. It was peaceful, really. This was the one place you could switch your brain off and quiet the chatter of your head, just concentrate on the tasks you knew so well by now that your hands did them on muscle memory alone.

You were just adjusting the newest flowers when a voice interrupted you.

“Hey,” it said.

It startled you as you were still in your own world and hadn’t heard anyone else approach. You whirled around slightly panicked as a pair of eyes the colour of sapphires met yours.

It was him again.

“Oh, hello,” you replied quietly.

He stared over at you, wrapped up in his coat as he was last time. His stare was still intense despite appearing much calmer than when you first met him. He wore black pants and boots, his hands tucked away into his pockets, a dark backpack slung over his shoulder. His face was more relaxed than it was during your first encounter. His blue eyes were just as arresting, but the absence of anger made them sparkle rather than burn. He had a soft dusting of stubble across his taut jawline, his dark hair was pulled back behind his head as he absent-mindedly ran a hand over it. He was…

…hot?

Fuck.

He nodded at you in acknowledgement and moved to George and Winnifred’s plot, kneeling in front of their stones. He pulled a candle out from his backpack and lit it with a lighter, placing it between where his parents lay.

You turned away sharply, not wanting to look like you were intruding during what was clearly a private moment of mourning. You focused on your own parents’ graves, clipping back the flowers as quietly as possible.

The two of you continued doing your own thing, the awkwardness thick in the air. You remembered how furious he’d been with you last time. You considered saying something, trying to explain that you were only trying to maintain the graves, but you didn’t want to provide any more ammunition for potential anger. Instead, you continued your routine in silence, keeping your eyes down.

After you finished you packed up your stuff and cleared your throat, ‘uh, bye,” you said quietly to him as you hurried down the path and back towards your car. He didn’t respond, but looked up at you as you passed, studying you intently.

[capitalisticveins]

Lots of Headcanons #1

Due to recent events I'm writing lots of mini headcanons to liven the mood, starting with my very BESTEST FRIEND @cyc-chilla

Avior

Avior has a drawing tablet he uses whenever he gets stressed, which is a lot.

He specializes in backgrounds, landscapes, and designs/patterns.

He prefers digital art rather than traditional art since it’s more forgiving, but he still dabbles in watercolors a lot.

Avior doesn’t often eat human food since it’s not necessary but when Starlight speaks about their favorite foods, or cooks anything, he usually tries the food, whether it looks appetizing or not.

He played tic-tac-toe almost 100 times to entertain himself in “hell”, and he lost to himself more than half of that amount.

Sam

As a kid, Sam would usually hang out in the nearest park, away from home, and try bringing home critters from there. Whether it was a squirrel, bugs, rabbits, stray cats, didn’t matter. He liked picking them up and trying to take them home. It worked a few times but someone would always find the animal and toss it back out.

Sam was a cowboy for Halloween from the ages of 7-12, and he regrets telling Darlin’ about it every passing day.

He hasn’t bought a new iPhone since 2018.

The only holiday his family spent together was Christmas, and he missed it greatly when he moved to Dahlia. He didn’t celebrate with the House for a number of reasons, so the first one he spent with other people since moving was when he started dating Darlin’ and he felt emotional during the entire day.

Butter Pecan is not his favorite ice cream flavor, he just says it is to make people mad. He still likes it, though

He spent an entire summer when he was 11 selling lemonade and water in his local park to raise money to buy a SNES. He never did have enough to buy one but he had a shit ton of money for an 11 year old.

Him going to Six Flags in Cali was the first and only time he’s ever been to an amusement park.

Porter

When she was alive, Porter got his mother a bouquet of flowers every year for mothers day, with differing handwritten notes. Even after his presumed death, she’d get flowers sent to her home every mothers day, and to this day a bundle of flowers and notes are put on her grave.

He uses a flip phone when calling people he doesn’t like so he can hang up on them by slamming it shut.

He finger guns himself in the mirror

Porter cried when the Queen died

His love-language is gift-giving, so Treasure just has a bunch of real expensive jewelry in one of their drawers because Porter gives them so much of it.

Although he prefers physical touch, and Treasure always delivers it.

Porter wears eyeliner.

Caelum

Cannot color inside the lines of a coloring book

Caelum does not like feeling constricted, so whenever he’s on Elegy he makes his form wear flowy and loose clothes to give himself space

Whenever he drinks kool-aid he rushes to the nearest mirror to look at his tongue changing color

When using a coloring book, he usually draws with a single color crayon, no two colors unless he’s drawing it for his siblings, Freelancer, or Gavin.

He finds bunk beds adorable until it’s time for him to sleep on one

Caelum cannot sleep on a normal day. He can try, and he can pretend, but if he’s not doing it to help someone else, he can’t just “go to sleep”, he’s too excited for anything and everything.

Due to accelerated energy, Caelum (and most Empathy Daemons) flies faster and for longer than other demons.

He gave his physical form braces once, took them off almost immediately.

[peppertoastuniverse]

more than a late night snack – gojo satoru chapter 9: donut– appetizer!

contents: gojo satoru x reader, really bad flirting attempts, swearing, fluff, gojo calls you babe, forced proximity summary: after returning from kyoto, gojo asks you to sneak out with him to get late night donuts. after he gives you a thoughtful gift, you can't help but admit that he makes you happy full wc: 5.2k ~ ish

previous chapter ll master list ll chapter 9 – coming soon!

 “i could teleport us there.”

“..what?! when did you manage that!?”  

he smiles cockily, “earlier this week, when you were in nagoya!” he puffs his chest out, pleased with your impressed stare.

you knew that he was working hard to perfect his teleportation. more than a few times gojo would saunter in pompously during the middle of your sparring sessions with geto, somehow always annoyingly interrupting when you were on top of geto on the verge of pining him. you and geto would even started making a bet at the beginning of each sparring session as to when gojo would make his appearance. you’d laugh when you often won the bet, making the groaning geto buy your favourite chips or on the rare occasion when he’d win, his favourite seaweed rice crackers at the corner store at every win. 

gojo would loudly insist that you and geto keep him company while he was training, complaining that he needed the distraction so that he would be able to easily teleport during a chaotic mission. he’d even make you stay after geto had retreated for the night, insisting that he still needed your help. begrudgingly you often found yourself sitting crossed legged on the gym mats, watching him with equal parts curiosity and exasperation. his usually blue buggy eyes closed in concentration, his brows furrowed, gojo was undoubtedly hardworking and persistent  – most likely the results of strict training implemented when he was young.

“pleaseeeeee, let’s goooo. you’re thinking too hard about it grumps!” he turns to you dramatically, gearing up for a lengthy conversation to convince – beg you even – to go with him, but he’s used to it. gojo had a smart mouth, one that he cultivated during his youth. growing up he’s learned to weaponize his strengths, easily talking his way out of many things, easily convincing ieri and to a lesser extent geto to participate in some of his mischief. like that one time he convinced geto that the spiciest ramen in ginza wasn’t even that big of a deal and that if anyone could do it, geto surely could. you could still remember gojo’s manic laughter as geto downed two cartons of milk as you patted geto’s back, rolling your eyes. or that infamous time last year before your arrival that ieri told you about when gojo had convinced geto and her to jump in the ocean with him in naha in october resulting in all of them getting sick for a week – yaga was not happy. gojo was used to getting what he wanted and never failed to resort to playing dirty if he really had to. although you were a harder case to crack, perhaps if he applied some logic to his fun, amazing, incredible adventure, you’ll surely fold, right?  he just had to approach it in the right way. “look, I swear I can get us back in half an hour, tops. no one will notice, i’ll even – ” “okay.” he blinks at you. what? that’s it? that was easy. 

“w-what?” his trilogy of groveling disappearing instantly on his tongue at the sight of your teasing smile.

“let’s go, I wanna get that custard donut they have,” you say as you grin up at him, amused by his confused face. gojo watches you ecstatically as you stand to rustle through your dresser, quickly picking out a sweater and some soft pants, walking into your bathroom to change. gojo scoffs, almost disbelievingly, a bright smile creeping on his face at how you easily smiled at him. a few months ago, he’d have to almost beg you to do anything with him. hell it took him almost two months and daily nagging to get you to sit beside him at lunch when you first arrived. nowadays, you’d let him lounge in your room or even text him first sometimes, he’d catch you grinning at him more than pouting – the thought made him giggly. 

happily he tosses his body deeper into your bed to cuddle bun bun, excitedly whispering to him about his plans. turning your head to see what he was up to, you shake your head with a smile, quickly shoo ingaway the warm staticky feeling that bloomed within you when you meet gojo’s warm expression as he comfortably laid in your bed, like he belonged there among all your personal belongings.

you hear his muffled laugh behind your bathroom door as you quickly change out of your pajamas. before you could wonder what he was up to, you see an alert flash on your phone: a photo from gojo. exhaling through your nose, you flip open your phone to see that he sent a photo of himself and bun bun, the stuffie’s pink little arms around gojo’s beaming face, the bunny’s cheek leaning on gojo’s. You giggle, saving the photo immediately before shrugging your head into your sweater.

“… okay? so this will be our little secret, bun – i’m serious!  i’m counting on you.” you hear him say seriously to the plushie as you shut the bathroom door, facing gojo with a raised eyebrow.

“what are you poisoning his mind with, gojo?” “sheesh, babe. nothing! just guy talk, you wouldn’t get it.” you roll your eyes as he rises from your bed, ensuring that bun bun’s laid comfortably.

“okay, so how does this work?” you ask him, as he grunts, distractingly stretching out his too long body. “well, the more surface area i'm in contact with while I teleport, the easier it’ll be for me –” your eyes widen. surface area? does that  mean – “so, to get us to our destination accurately. which means, babe – c’mere.” he moves closer to you, almost chest to chest, arms reaching around you. “uh – what?” you ask, surprised at the quick closeness, placing a hand on his firm chest to his eye roll, his arms falling limply at his side. “this worked the best. i had suguru touch my shoulder, hold my hand and then hug me. naturally, the hug got the most accurate results. y’know, babe – sugu actually smells so good, im not sure what it is but like, he definitely changed his shower gel – ”

you cackle loudly. “pff – i bet suguru hated that hug. he probably showered twice to get the extra stupid off him.” you poke at him, deflecting easily hoping he doesn’t sense your nervousness. “hey! that’s not the point! The point is, that’s what worked the best.” he cocks his head to the side studying your strange silence, “..hey, it’s okay to be nervous.” 

“m’ not nervous…” you mumbled. sure, you'd let him believe that you were nervous just because of teleporting. “if you’re not comfy with it you can just hold my arm or something." you nod shyly, avoiding looking into his eyes. "guess i'll just have to work a little harder," he teasingly groans, hoping to make you smile. "i got you.” he says, head turning to decipher your loaded expression. “i wont let anything happen to you, i swear." he whispers seriously.

catching your breath, you meet his unwavering gaze before slowly lowering your hand on his chest. instead you move to gently hook your arm around his right bicep. he smiles encouragingly at you, using his other hand to soothingly rub your arm. you feel his towering stare as your cheeks heat up. his eyes twinkle, like being close this close to you was normal.

he lowers his head, "hold on tight, kay?" he whispers as you feel his arm wind around your waist. 

“gojo, you’d better get us there or else.” 

“c’mon babe! i promise! where’s the trust?” he say brightly as you scoff, shaking your head. 

“your ego is bigger than all of –” “heh, not as big as my –” for the second that night you find your hands over gojo’s mouth, berating him of his idiotic behavior.

“‘kay, now let’s get those donuts!” he says enthusiastically after shrugging your hands away from his face, once again trying to ease the pout off of your face.  

you squeeze your eyes shut, increasing your grip on him, concentrating on how his soft hand feels around you. 

you trusted him before, this would be a walk in the park, right?

chapter 9 – coming at the end of this week! a/n: hi everyone! thank your for your patience – i'm still here! chapter 9 is going to be so cute and fun, thanks for sticking around.

[hopefulidiocy]

Perfect

Prince!Aemond x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, HARD LABOUR, BLOOD, SLIGHT SLIGHT SMUT IF YOU SQUINT

A/N this is filler whilst I’m away

~

The baby pulled on your back as you waddled through the Gardens of the Red Keep, listening to the birds swimming through the air with their happy tunes; which was a complete contrast to how you were feeling. You knew your ultimate goal was to give your husband a baby, you knew that you had only married each other for the financial gain to give at least one male heir that can be in the line for the throne. Your family owned most of the North, all being Lords and Ladies and owning the biggest castles and palaces. Something King Viserys couldn’t let go. You had wondered, often, why you were the chosen one and not your sister, who was Aemond’s exact age. You were two years younger than him.

Your pregnant belly served as a reminder of who you were to the Keep, Queen Alicent came in every evening after supper to check on you but not to see how you were, to see how her grandchild was. She would constantly refer to the baby as a he and it would further enforce a worry that was so overwhelming you were often worried that your own baby might die before you get to meet them. If this baby wasn’t a boy, she didn’t know what she would do, she would be a failure and Aemond would probably take on another wife; but it won’t be his own decision, it’ll be his mothers. In the last three years you had been married, you broke all rules and fell in love. Aemond treated you like a precious jewel despite being cold hearted and strong headed, he would demand respect for you when you were unable to demand it for yourself. He was the one who stuck up for you when his mother had a doctor check that you could bear children as it was expected to be pregnant within a year of marriage. But you and Aemond made the secret decision to wait to try for a child, your sex had been as protected as it could be and it was still just as amazing. Sometimes, though, you wondered whether Aemond would be unhappy at the birth of a daughter. You hoped he wouldn’t be but you already had a happy marriage unlike most of the world; it would be tedious to hope for a man that would be happy at the birth of a girl. Somewhere inside of you, you harboured that childish wish, hidden and deep.

“Princess Y/N.” Helaena was by one of the stone arches, leaning against it with a spider in her hands. She didn’t look up when you approached her. “He’s unhappy.”

“Who is?” Helaena had always been a little weird, always playing with her insects and you hated to admit that you kept a distance because she always seemed to be staring. However, as you were around, you both warmed to each other to a nice conversation in the Keep hallways.

“My spider.” She pouted, opening her palm to big, spindly, black thing that made you shiver and step back. “Got a broken leg.” She pointed to one of the front legs which was wonky and stopped him from walking normally across her palms.

“Ah, I’m sorry.” You didn’t know what else to say until a small, sudden dull ache shot across your body. It wasn’t pain enough for you to groan or shout, just a quick wince and a palm on your stomach was enough. You stroked it up and down, feeling your stretched skin and the hardness of your baby curled up. Suddenly, Helaena reached out and placed her milky hand on your belly, a smile stretching across her lips. “What is it?”

“You’re going to be so happy.” She whispered, almost to herself, she removed her hand and disappeared down the hallway without a goodbye. Your back began to pulse, it usually did this if you walked around too much, the baby was almost ready so it wasn’t a surprise that your body began to shatter away after a ten minute walk.

~

Two guards posted outside of your chambers highlighted that Aemond was behind them, your heart still pitched whenever you were around him and you wished that blissful feeling would never end. The guards nodded at your arrival, opening the doors and revealing your grand, dark oak decorated chambers with high ceilings that depict your House and the Targaryen House. That familiar smell of polished leather wafted from the open balcony doors, the white silk rippling in the breeze. You waddled towards the doors, seeing the back of your husband leaning his hands on the iron fence.

“Aemond?” You questioned, walking out but before you got to his side he turned around. Without a word, he smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist and even though hugging these days was much harder; he always made it work.

“Y/N.” He breathed, kissing your cheek and his arms still clasped around your waist. You looked up at your beautiful husband with one eye, your hands softly resting on his forearms. “Are you okay? You’re looking flushed.” He hand cupped your cheek, stroking it softly before planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I should really stop going on these walks, Aemond. They’re causing havoc with my back.” You rubbed at your lower spine which was twisting in pain. He hummed in response, his eye looking over you in worry. “What’s that look for?” You questioned.

“I want a doctor to see you.” He said, removing his arms and placing his wide palms on your stomach; a feeling you absolutely loved.

“No, I don’t want a doctor. It’ll be the same one your mother had. I’m happy with my midwives, they’ll take good care of me, Aemond. I promise. You need to stop worrying.” You cupped his face, stepping on your tiptoes and kissing his soft lips.

“Baby, I know you don’t like him but do this for me? Just to keep my mind rested?” He questioned, playing with your hair net that kept your long hair in check. You groaned, leaning your forehead against his chest.

“Fine but make him bring a tonic for my back, okay?” You shifted back and walked towards your four postered bed, climbing on it on all fours before you melted into the soft pillows and silk sheets; your back instantly mended.

~

You must’ve slept for around forty minutes because a dull pain thundered in your back, you whined as your eyes pulled open to see Aemond and the doctor just arriving. The doctor was a stout, round little man with a face like a smacked ass most of the time and probably thinking that he didn’t want to be anywhere near a pregnant woman and was best at mending wounds on the battleground; you thought the same.

“Help her up for me.” He demanded, Aemond wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her gently to a sitting up position but you were too busy groaning with the twisting pain in your back. “Legs spread.” He clicked his fingers at you, as he opened his toolbox of very scary and sharp items that made your legs shudder.

“Is he going to use them on me?” You asked Aemond, who was now sat by your side, he shook his head but his face was lined with worry. The doctor struck his hand between your legs, making you hiss, the pain suddenly there than in your back. He grunted to himself as his fingers roamed around, you twisted around to fight the embarrassment of this moment in front of your husband.

“Damn you, Doctor. What is it?” Aemond basically shouted, shocking you.

“It’s time.” He said nonchalantly, shrugging and packing up his toolbox. “Get your servants to fetch the midwives.”

“I’ll have your fucking head for that attitude! This is my fucking wife, who you have just said, is in labour! She’s giving birth weeks before she has to! And you just say ‘it’s time’!?” Aemond was towering over the doctor now, as you wept into the back of your hand. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. You hadn’t prepared for the actual birth yet and you certainly hadn’t taken the tonics made for a healthy birth, you hadn’t offered anything to the gods because you simply weren’t to give birth yet. You would’ve done all of this next week, it was next week’s plan and then the week after would be your birth.

“Aemond!” You shouted, he came right to your side. “Please, please just get my midwives.” He was gone in an instant.

~

You were flat on your back within twenty minutes, your dress completely vanished and you left in your underclothes as your legs spread, your feet dangling in the air as two midwives hold them aloft, your forehead drenched in your salty sweat and cold water as Alicent kept soaking your head in some cold water tonic. Your stomach groaned, your organs shifted as you screamed; your spine splitting vertebrae by vertebrae just to make you suffer for longer. The head midwife was between your legs, checking your dilation but at this point, you had no idea what was going on. Your lower back sawed in half and the feeling went trembling through your legs, hitting at every nerve as fat tears began to soak your cheeks.

“There is no movement.” One midwife whispered to the Queen, you looked to your left to watch the conversation with blurry eyes, your face growing hot and the sweat perking up on the crown of your head. Alicent looked tense for a simple moment before turning to you, with a soft smile on her lips.

“What’s happening?” You whispered, your voice raw as she shushed you like mother, stroking your hairline as she wet your head once again. Little did you know, the midwives were readying to have the doctor cut you open with one of his sharp knives. Alicent kept stroking your head as the pain awoke inside of you, your uterus feeling split open by the muscle contractions.

Outside in the hallway, Aemond waited with King Viserys and his brothers; picking at the tips of his nails as he leaned nervously on the wall. The sounds of your screams echoed throughout the hallway, creating a cold film across Aemond’s skin as his mind couldn’t rest from not being in that room and by your side. He should be the one to wet your head and hold your hand, he was the father after all. But this was how it was done.

“Are you excited to fuck her again?” Aegon smirked, his short brother was opposite him with his disgusting piglike face. Viserys audibly scoffed and rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. He never said anything when the boys would say some horrible shit to each other. Aemond looked at his brother with disgust.

“Shut up, Aegon.” He wouldn’t lose his temper, not today of all days. He would beat the shit out of him at the next military training day. He would show him, again, that he was the stronger brother.

“She’ll be fat though. You alright with fucking a fat woman?” In a flash, Aegon was up against the wall with Aemond’s forearm hard across his next, pushing harder and harder.

“Don’t ever talk about my wife again. Never again should she come out of your mouth unless you don’t want your tongue. I can rip your tongue out with my bare hands.” Aemond hissed, spitting in his face before a familiar sound screeched through the hallways.

Back in the room, you were squirming with pain and your poor back was now completely snapped from the lightning that kept shooting through your body. You knew that the baby wasn’t moving, you were crying with fear of delivering a dead baby, of failing the one thing your body was made to do. Your back arched towards the ceiling as your nerves ignited and your hands growing numb from the pain that bounced off every bone in your body. You felt yourself begin to slip away, your eyelids heavy and your jaw slacking to one side and before the darkness enveloped you, you screamed out one word.

“Aemond!”

Instantly, Aemond was in the room, his chest heaving up and down as he scanned the room. His heart stopping at a halt when he saw the blood, the clots, the sweat that surrounded your legs; your calves and feet completely coated in deep red blood that was already dried by the time Aemond had made it into the room. Then his eyes travelled from your feet, up to your knees that were spread either side of your body to your rounded belly that hadn’t deflated yet and you. Tears sprang to his eyes as he saw your eyes closed shut, your mouth open like you had just been screaming but now frozen in time. His mother clutched at the wet rag, watching you with grief stricken eyes. The midwives had stopped doing their work and now stood around to look at you with tears streaming down their faces. Aemond’s boots clicked as he made his way to your side, your face serene and peaceful, he kneeled by you and stroked your hair out of your face.

“Aemond.” Alicent placed her elegant hand on her son’s shoulder but he shrugged it off without taking his eye off his beautiful wife, the one woman he loved with his entire being. He shifted his gaze to your chest and saw that it was still moving up and down.

“She’s still breathing.” He said, with little urgency because he suspected they knew this. Alicent looked towards the midwives to answer.

“We must persevere to save your child.” One of them said, Aemond scoffed.

“I want you to save my wife as well.” He demanded with a soft tone, trying not to lose his temper.

“It is either one or the other, my son. Both will not survive.” Alicent said softly, whispering towards the end as if to sound upset. Aemond couldn’t handle this for much longer.

“MY fucking wife!” He shouted, jumping to his feet and marching towards the midwives. “My wife, the only woman I have ever loved and you are letting her die! She’s young, she’s beautiful and you are leaving her to die in fucking pain.” They winced at his anger as he marched back to his mother. “And if it was my mother who gave the orders to murder my wife then I want her fucking gone. Out of my sight and away from her.” He spat at her feet before turning to you, your eyelids fluttering as he was instantly on his knees, he ignored the sniffles behind him as Alicent silently exited the room.

Your eyes opened slowly, peeling your eyelids from each other and you saw, behind the blurry curtain of your eyesight, your husband with his hand stroking your cheek so softly it was like he wasn’t doing anything. His face had tear streaks and his lips shuddered a little as he watched you open your eyes. For a moment, there was no pain. Only him. And you kept your eyes on him as he brought his lips to your nose, pressing on the tip gently.

“Aemond.” You croaked, reaching out for his hand in slow motion. He met you in the middle, bringing your fingers to his lips.

“Hello, baby.” He whispered. “You fell asleep for a few minutes but now it’s time to have the baby and I am here, I will stay by your side forever and you will never have to scream for me or cry for me ever again. I promise.” Tears rolled down your face as he softly kissed your lips. “Are you ready for this, my love?” You nodded, unable to speak because that twisting pain came back and you tried to haul yourself up with the one arm that was free but the midwives kept you down. The head midwife checked between your legs and nodded at Aemond.

“Keep breathing for us, Princess. You’re almost there.” You breathed in through your nose and exhaled through your mouth, your body relaxing with every exhale as if you’re letting go of all the pain and suffering you had gone through. Between your legs, you felt a stretch unlike anything else and a sharp pain that tore through your body and made you cry out in pain. “Lift up her torso for me.” She commanded, two midwives came at either side but Aemond stopped them.

“This is my child. Let me be a part of it.” He climbed onto the bed behind you, shifting his legs so you were settled between them before pulling up your body so gently it was like you were floating and now you were hitched up against his chest, your legs being held by the midwives that were going to lift you up. “Push for me, baby.” He whispered, holding you and you felt the strength to push down against your pelvis, feeling a slight movement as you breathed in and on the breath out, you pushed down; grinding your teeth until you were groaning. “Come on, baby.” He squeezed your forearm and you pushed again, until you felt something the size of a ball exit your body and for the last time, you pushed until a new cry splintered the room. The midwife pulled the crying baby from you and held it up to determine the sex. Her face dropped.

“A beautiful, healthy, baby girl.” You would be lying if you said you were ecstatic at the reveal, but you weren’t too disappointed either. You worried more about Aemond’s reaction so you looked up to find him crying, his eye patch lifted onto his shoulder as he squeezed his real eye and sapphire eye with his index finger and thumb.

“Bring her to me.” You said, your body now in a dull ache. Wrapped in silk cloth and cleaned and beautifully pink, your baby laid in your arms, her little fingers clutching on her blanket as you looked down at her. Your breath was taken from you when her eyes opened and reached for her mother, a sob emitted from your throat as the realisation that this perfect baby was yours to love and nurture. She was yours to admire. She was all yours.

“Gods, she is perfect.” Aemond whispered, bring his hand to the top of her head. He held her head gently, his thumb stroking the tiny strands of hair that she came out with. He reached down and kissed her forehead, kissing your cheek as he made his way back up to sitting. “Well done, my love. Well done.” He placed butterfly kisses on your neck and both of you relished in this silence as you both looked upon the most precious jewel you made. A little tiny human that shared both of you, she had no idea about the world she was born in. But that was okay. Because her mother and father would protect her until she didn’t need it anymore.

~

The church filled with people up and down the Red Keep as the baptism waited to take place. Behind a curtain, you stood draped in a most magnificent white gown and white headdress with your wonderful husband at your side, dressed in white as well. It had been four weeks since the birth of your daughter and four weeks in confinement as your body mended after the trauma of the birth, you still ached down below but you had to make an appearance at your daughters baptism. This would be the first time anyone other than your husband and child had seen you, so you wanted to make an impression with this massive gown.

“Congratulations.” King Viserys croaked from behind, he came limping in on his wooden walking stick with his Queen by his side. He had been ill straight after the birth and was kept hidden away until he got better. “I have seen my beautiful granddaughter and isn’t she just marvellous? I’ve always favoured girls.” He smiled before looping around you to get in the official formation. It would go the High Septon in front, then King and Queen with the baby and then you and Aemond behind. To be blessed properly, the baby had to be in the arms of either monarch. Before the doors opened, Aemond took your hand.

“How are you feeling?” He questioned, you looked up at your handsome husband.

“A bit sore, but I’m okay. You?” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed them.

“I’m always fine, my darling. Always fine if you are.” He kissed again, before pinching your cheeks. “You look beautiful.” You blushed like a teenage girl, your heart beating as you breathed in. He reached down and kissed your cheek.

“I’m actually nervous for this. No one has seen me in forever.” You said, wringing your hands.

“Cut yourself a break. You just gave birth and you look fucking beautiful.” A thought passed his mind, it showed in his eyes and he leaned down to whisper. “You’re so beautiful, I would fuck you right here, right now. Harder than I’ve ever done before.” He smirked, whisper kissing your neck. “If you weren’t still in pain, of course. So once you’re better, wait for what I’ll do to you.” You inhaled as he straightened up, as if he hadn’t just said all that in a room full of people.

A few moments beat by and a cute gurgle caused both of you to turn around and see your bundle of joy in the arms of her nanny, Aemond smiled instantly and took her from the nanny. You watched as your husband cradled your daughter, bouncing her gently in his arms as he stalked towards you, his eyes stuck on his stunning daughter.

“I’ll never get over her beauty.” He said to you, you met him in the middle and stroked the top of her head with your fingers. Her features were becoming more shaped like yours, her little hands still grasped at her lace outfit and white silk blanket that was the same cut as yours. You leaned down and kissed her button nose. Aemond never looked away from her and you wished you could freeze this moment of Aemond and your baby; him looking at her with great love and admiration and her looking up at him with saucer eyes full of wonder and curiosity.

“You’re so good with her.” You whispered, nestling your index finger in her tiny fist. She squeezed hard on it and you smiled like she had recognised you were her mother.

“Thank you.” Aemond looked up suddenly, tears welling in his eye.

“What for?” You cocked your head to the side.

“For giving me our daughter, Hope and for showing me that love wins every time. Thank you for being the most perfect jewel of a woman in the entire world. Thank you for giving me a beautiful family.” Both of you were crying, silently as the tears stream down your cheeks and you rested your head on his chest, looking at your daughter with pride blooming in your chest. Stroking her tiny hands and watching as she dozes deep into a sleep. You and your perfect family. Safe. Loved. Prideful. Grateful. And most importantly, happy.

[gabessquishytum]

Feeling very annoyed about my joint pain right now so what better way to deal with it than projecting my problems onto Dream?

So Dream is hypermobile, and he's been dating Hob for a little while. With Hob, he doesn't feel like he complains too much, he doesn't feel like he's a burden. He doesn't feel like he has to hide the pain and frustration he has to deal with because of his body. As a child he was often told that he was faking injury to get out of doing things he didn't want to do. Often he was told just to exercise more. As he got older, he was told that he was giving up on himself and that he should just push though the pain (despite the fact that when you're hypermobile, sometimes pushing though the pain now means needing joint replacements in the future). But with Hob, his problems are always taken seriously, his pain is believed and he's never infantilized for it. Hob isn't disgusted by his body doing weird things, his reaction to Dream hyperextending something on purpose isn't "put that away that's gross" it's "you'll regret that tomorrow"

Dream has definitely subluxed his jaw while giving Hob blow jobs before. After, because you know Dream wouldn't stop sex for something as trivial as a subluxation, Hob heats up a rice bag and massages Dream's face.

On his bad days, sometimes Hob will stay home from work just to comfort and be there for him. It's care like he's known from no other person ever in his life and he almost certainly cries about how lucky he is (usually in Hob's arms) at least once a week

Idk where exactly I'm going with this. But I'm just spinning the concept of hypermobile!Dream getting comfort and acceptance from Hob in my head. Just Dream getting the comfort I wish I had in my life.

Oh anon, joint pain is so horrible. I'm sorry you're going through it. I'm also in the hypermobile club, so I feel you. I really do.

Dream finds it hard to accept that this will be his life forever, you know? There's no cure for his condition, only management. He spent a lot of time pretending that there was nothing wrong, and ended up hurting himself. He has so many regrets... but knowing that he also gets to spend the rest of his life with Hob makes it almost bearable. Hob has slowly adjusted their shared home to be hypermobile-friendly, putting in all the accommodations that Dream has denied himself over the years: a bath chair, perching stools in the kitchen, banisters on the staircases, even a wedge for their bed so Dream can prop himself up when he's feeling bad enough to be bedbound.

Hob knows Dream’s body better than his own. When Dream hyperextends his knees, Hob is the one to notice and give him a gentle nudge. When he's standing and hanging off his joints and straining them, Hob grabs him a chair so he can sit down instead. When he needs his ring splints, it's usually Hob who fetches and puts them on for him. Dream often feels like a burden, but Hob tries to explain that all of these things aren't chores for him. They're just intuitive, easy acts of love. Hob WANTS to be Dream’s support.

Sex is a lot easier with Hob than it ever was with past partners. There's k-tape and splints and joint braces, which Hob treats with the same reverence he'd usually save for lingerie. Dream, naked, clad only in wrist splints and k-tape, is the most beautiful thing in the world to Hob. Cause he knows that Dream isn't going to get hurt while they make wild and glorious love.

They've definitely had wheelchair sex. Hob has knelt between Dream’s slightly spread legs and sucked his cock. Fortunately the brakes were on, or Dream might have gone rolling across the room from the force of his orgasm. Hob is very good with his mouth.

All in all: life is really really hard, but it's also good. And Hob makes it all worth it by being there and being himself. Dream couldn't love him any more if he tried.

[ford-pines-lover]

Tolerate it

when you were out building other worlds, where was I?

Here is this one!! @chillinglyadventurous

Tags: SFW, falling out of love, i actually think this is sad

I greet you with a battle hero's welcome

There was nothing better than going to the shack after a shopping trip with Mabel. She strides inside the house with her millions of bags. It was like she was gleaming with the dust of a million stars. There was nothing that could hurt her or stop her from her excitement. 

When you two walked inside the shack, everything was in its place. It seemed as if nothing was touched. Made sense; Dipper was out with Stan doing some grunkle, nephew bonding, and Ford? Well, he hasn’t seen the light of day in a week. It was starting to worry you. Usually he at least makes an effort to come see you before bed or come up for dinner, but lately it hasn’t even been anything. Long nights waiting and hoping that your boyfriend would come and sleep next to you. Waiting to feel another person next to you was excruciating. 

You got snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Mabel say, “That was so fun, y/n! Thank you for taking me!” She gives you a hug and runs off to the attic to drop off her stuff. She was like a younger sister to you. Maybe even a daughter in some sense? Your own feelings were conflicted. 

You walk down to the lab to see your boyfriend. He was slouched over his desk, papers everywhere. He was drowning in his work. You surmise that he had just found a new discovery. Perhaps a new equation or a new creature found here in the Falls. You knew that just recently Ford had gone deeper in the woods than he had ever felt comfortable. Unsurprisingly, he took Dipper with him. They came home with cuts and bruises. Neither of them unscathed.

“Dear, I’m fine,” he had said.

So you believed him. 

“Hey, love.” You walk up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t move, still surrounded by the pages and pages of math and science. You knew you had an affinity toward the man, but sometimes you couldn’t pinpoint why. He wasn’t involved in your relationship often; he never came to bed; hell, you can’t remember the last time you two had sex!

I take your indiscretions all in good fun

It took him a bit to notice you. 

“Hello, my dear.” He turned to look at you. His chair squeaking as he moved as if he hadn’t moved in hours. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

You give him an incredulous look. Actually, you hadn’t slept in days. Ford had been so engulfed in his work that he hadn’t gone to bed with you in days. He sleeps on his desk, waiting for some sort of answer to just pop out of his work. You press your lips together, not wanting to disturb the peace. Deciding to keep your mouth shut about your feelings, you say, “Yeah, it’s been a rough couple nights, but I’ve been okay.” You turn around to leave, “There will be dinner in about an hour if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,”

“If that’s what you wish.” You tearfully look away and walk back upstairs. Your movements were saturnine. Everything hurt; nothing felt real. The love you had once in the past almost feels obsolete now. There was almost a remorseful feeling inside you for him. He has gone through so much; you should just let him be. But if your needs weren't being met, why should you stay?

I sit and listеn

As you set up your new art station that you had bought at the store, you open the paints. They were an expensive set of oil paints that you were so desperate to try out. Painting wasn’t a new hobby, just one that had gone dormant over the last couple years. Now that you have a rather inadequate boyfriend, you were ready to take on this hobby once again. 

“Hey, kid.” You see Stan approach you with a weary look on his face. He must have just gotten back with Dipper, but you hadn’t seen Dipper yet. “I know that you and Ford are going through hard times right now." He leans on the doorframe with a phlegmatic disposition. “Just know that he does still love you and is just having a hard time. Just give him some time, kid. He’ll come around.”

“Stan, I don’t know how much longer I can wait.” You said with an indigent look across your face. “I love him, but I can’t feel so empty anymore.”

“Look, kid, I can talk to him for you if you’d like. He’d better listen to me. I wouldn’t want to lose a family member over some stupid math equations.” He sighs. "You know how he’s an opportunist. He knows what he wants, and he takes it.”

“Please talk to him for me; he doesn’t seem to listen to me.” You gulp. “I know how he is. I just want my Stanford back.” 

“I’ll be back, then. Hang tight.”

You watch as he goes out of the room. You were stationed in the kitchen with your supplies, so it was easy access to the lab from there. Your mind starts to wander. What if you really were just a bother and in the way? What if there was really nothing there? 

You take a deep breath and lather a thin coat of white paint on the canvas. You weren’t quite sure what would come of this painting, but you knew you were emotional, and this was one healthy way to get it out. At least that's what your therapist had said at one point. Instead of taking it out on other people, taking it out of a piece of canvas was healthier. Or something. 

You started with hues of grey and blue. For some reason there was something compelling you to use those colors. Maybe they stated how you felt. Grey and empty. Blue and sad. Or maybe you just liked them. 

Below you, you could hear fighting. It was the two men that you had trusted more than anything in the world. You couldn’t quite make out what they were yelling to each other. It was loud. It shook the house. There was a negative tone flowing through the shack. It was dizzying.

“C’mon Poindexter… shes… kid! Don't…care... her?” You heard most of Stan’s words. But what hurt the most is what his brother said after. 

“Yes, I care, Stanley! It’s all just become too much, and my work is far too important! I don't understand why none of you can see that!” You heard that one clear as day. It was perfectly clear why he didn’t want to see you. You were too much. 

“Why the fuck would you say that?” You could hear Stan getting louder with each word. “At least talk to her! Have dinner with her. Once. Before you decide to throw this away.” He had an ardent tone. 

“What are you trying to imply?”

“That you’re being a selfish idiot and throwing away the best thing that’s ever happened to you!”

I polish plates until they gleam and glistеn

You got up from your spot at the table. Your mind is whizzing and whirring from the fighting in the basement. You try to think of something, anything, to keep your mind off of what Ford had just said. Too Much? You walk over to the sink and start doing the dishes. You were staring off, out the window, trying not to completely break apart. 

Was Stan talking to Ford a good idea? Or did it really cause more issues than what was worth? Maybe Ford is just saying shit because he’s sleep deprived. He does tend to get more annoyed than usual when he hasn’t had a good rest. Doesn’t everyone?

“Hey, y/n. Everything good?” You jump, seeing Dipper behind you. When did you start crying?

You wipe your face with your sleeve and put on a fake smile. He definitely could tell. “Yeah, why what’s up?” 

“I’m not stupid, y/n. I hear Grunkle Stan and Ford fighting.” He gave you a judgmental look. You knew he wasn’t stupid, but it wasn't fair that he had to listen to his Grunkles fighting. 

“I know you’re not stupid. I’m genuinely okay; I am just a little overwhelmed.” You took in a deep breath. Everything was going to be okay.

He gently nods and walks away.

You're so much older and wiser, and I

You think about the age gap between you two while you sit down to continue to paint again. The age gap was significant enough that you were 30 years younger than him. It was hard for him, yet it seemed like he thoroughly enjoyed the relationship. 

You two had met at the library while checking out a book. Then on from there, Ford invited you to go on adventures with him and invited you to play D, D, and more D with him. You two were really bonding. Giggling and blushing as your two characters in the RPG were flirting and Dipper being grossed out the whole time. Mabel was way too excited about her Grunkle’s newfound crush. 

Then you lost your house. The landlord decided that he wasn’t going to rent out his house anymore, and it left you homeless. You couldn’t afford to just move spontaneously. This had left you to live out of your car for about a week. It was horrible. Worse than you had originally imagined. It was overcrowded, messy, and humiliating. 

The Pines family had heard what happened. Stan was the first to offer you a room to stay in. 

“Kid, times are tough. I know what it’s like to be homeless. So I’m offering you a space, free of charge.”

“Are you sure?”  You had said, worried about overstepping bounds.

“I wouldn’t be offering it to ya if I wasn’t sure.”

That was that. You were now an honorary member of the Pines family. 

With that came more time spent with Stanford. This led to stolen kisses in the lab and sleepovers in your bedroom. It became routine to see him often. One day you had asked him out formally. It was just to a diner. Nothing fancy, but it meant something to you. 

After that, you and Ford were inseparable. Constantly going on adventures; hanging out. Life was great. Until now. 

Ford stands before you, arms crossed. You could tell he was upset. 

“I know I haven’t talked to you in a bit, but I would like to know if you were okay with going out for dinner.” It seemed like it took a lot out of him just to get that out. 

“Yeah, sure.” You tried to not let it be known that it upset you that he was being this way. “I think I have an idea. I’ll come grab you in thirty minutes, okay?”

“Alright.”

I wait by the door like I'm just a kid

You decide to stand in his lab doorway. He had agreed to dinner. Hopefully things will not go to shit and everything will go to plan. 

“You ready?” You held out your hand, and he hesitantly put his hand in yours. It didn’t feel right, but you kept it cool.

“Yes.” He had said rather coldly. Oh boy.

Use my best colors for your portrait

You stare at the portrait you had made as it sits in your tote bag. This was a gift to him. It was of you two stargazing. The colors were magnificent. It has ranges of blues, violets, and reds. You hoped that he would like it and see it as a means to start over. 

Maybe not.

Lay the table with the fancy shit

You led him outside to the place you had set up. It was a picnic on a hill. Just like you two had once had a date there months ago. There were plates of food, fake candles, flowers, just about anything you could imagine. 

“It looks... nice.” Ford had said as he forced a smile. 

“I’m glad you like it.” You pop open the wine bottle and pour yourself a big glass. 

Throughout the whole dinner, he was not attentive. He really was in another world. There was nothing that could make him want to be at this dinner that you had planned. Yet here he was. 

And the portrait stayed in your bag. 

And watch you tolerate it

[therealmylesmorales]

SFW Alphabet|| Lara Croft

Kiss kiss anon, here’s what you requested 🫶🏾

No warnings, I don’t think. Just low key Dorky!Lara. Might make that my brand.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

On a scale from 1-10, Lara’s a solid 9.5; the only reason why she’s not a 10 is because she’s away a lot. I’ve decided that physical touch is one of her love languages as well, love touching/being touched by you. Especially kissing. She would even playfully pout at you if you deny her of your touch.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Lara met you through Sam. You were a friend of Sam, meeting through university and got back in contact when you moved back to England. At first, you thought Lara didn’t like you you just made her super nervous. Eventually, Lara became a good friend to you as well, especially when Sam cut contact with Lara. The friendship…then the relationship grew from there.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Cuddling is Lara’s favorite activity with you. She loves laying on top of you, completely covering your body like a blanket as you play with her hair. It’s often that Lara would nap while you did that. As for the big spoon/little spoon, Lara’s mostly the big spoon, loving the feeling of your body pressed against her.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Lara grew up with maids and chefs but spent enough time annoying around them where she picked up some tips. However, she enjoys your cooking more, claiming that your cooking is much better. She’s British y’all, give her a break.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

For kicks and gigs, let’s just say that Lara would want to break up with you. Lara’s mature, she would give you reasons on why she feels a certain way and for how long. She would want only space at first, just to see if her feelings would mellow out during that time period.

But if things don’t change, she would let you know that it’s not your fault; she’s the one that feels that way. And she would not want to stay in contact afterwards, knowing neither would heal if that’s the case.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

As soon as that “girlfriend” title was placed, Lara would be all about you. And after a year of being together, she could see you being in her life forever. But she probably wouldn’t propose then and there, just give her time to plan it first. Unless you somehow throw off her plans by proposing first, she would just give you the ring after you had your moment.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

You’re like a flower to Lara. Beautiful and fragile, and she treats you as such. The way she cares for you is unlike anything you’ve imagined. She would never let you take on more than needed, more than willing to take on the load if you’re feeling too stressed over work.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

For the plot, just pretend that you’re short. Lara’s like 5’8”, just vibe.

Lara loves giving you hugs; resting her chin on top of your head, smelling your perfume, it brings her peace. Her hugs are warm, feeling her strong arms around you would make you feel safe. She gives you hugs around the same amount as her kisses..

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Lara almost said that shit on the first date. But she somehow held herself back, not wanting to scare you off. It surprised her that you were the first one to say it, after six months of dating. And ever since, Lara will always say it to you at least twice a day.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

We saw a jealous Lara. She would try to let you handle it. She trusts you with everything in her…just not other people. So, when she sees them being pushy and not respecting you, Lara would have to step in.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Lara’s kisses are soft, tender, almost as if she’s afraid you’d break if she’s too rough. And she lingers, like she wants you to remember how she feels even when she’s not there. Her favorite place to kiss you are your lips, obviously. Another common place to kiss you is your knuckles, she’s just in love with you like that.

As for her, Lara would never turn down a kiss from you, no matter where you decide to place it. However, the bridge/tip of her nose makes her giggle. I’d call that her second favorite type kiss.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Lara likes children but not enough to the point to want one of her own. She’s comfortable with just the two of you, maybe an animal or two as well. However, maybe more down the line, you would gain her attention if you mentioned having a child with her.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Those mornings where you both have nothing to do are Lara’s favorites. She’ll get to bask in the morning sun and in the attention you give her. Lara would try to keep you in bed for as long as she could until you pulled her out to get the day started.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Lara are tranquil. If you were apart for most of the day, she would lay with you, just to hear you talk; good, bad it wouldn’t matter to her, you would still have her full attention. Alternatively, if you spent the day together, there would be an hour where Lara would catch up with her own work or even read. It was her winding down time.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Lara would be shy during the first few meet up’s, so she’s unnaturally quiet. But over time, she would quickly warm up and reveal a few things about her. Just about anything would be on the table for her to talk about.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Lara is a very patient person, especially when it comes to you. It’s even rare for her to raise her voice around you. However, for those times that she’s running thin, she wouldn’t hesitate to ask you for a bit of space just to calm herself down.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

One thing we can’t do is deny how smart Lara is. She would remember something you mentioned once. One your first date. YEARS ago. Lara would have to remind you about a few things you said.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Lara’s favorite memory is when you agreed to be her girlfriend. It was your third date, when Lara finally understood that she didn’t need to be extravagant in order to impress you. She showed up at your apartment with a small gift and a bouquet, the question on the tip of her tongue but she hesitated; she wasn’t sure if her feelings were one sided and you only saw her as a good friend. Lara you fuck ass lesbian.

But that hesitation immediately washed away when you kissed her mid movie after sensing her nervousness.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Like I said in one of my first headcannons, Lara would teach you how to use a gun, and it would not be up for debate. Trinity might be gone but that doesn’t mean she’s free of enemies and she would be damned if they got to you. She would tell you about the weapons hidden around the manor just in case as well.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Lara puts effort with everything in her. She would always manage to bring you a small trinket from another country, to the point where you have an entire bookshelf filled with them. For your very first date, she rented out a museum and tried to impress you with her knowledge on a few topics. She nerded out a few times but she succeeded. And not to mention the time she took you to Hawai’i for your one year.

Moral of the story, Lara would go above and beyond for you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Lara gets in her head a lot and forgets to do a lot of human necessities. When she’s locked up in her office, Lara would get obsessed over her next clue, the code she would have to crack and would accidentally ignore you. She would give you short responses or even politely decline your offers for food. Lara would feel bad about later, when she noticed you stopped coming in and would timidly apologize later that night.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Honestly…I don’t see Lara being that vain. Every other week, baby girl is covered in dirt, blood, mud and new scars. Yeah, of course she does her best but she dosen’t see the point in most days especially if she has to leave soon.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Lara wasn’t complete until she met you. She was going through the motions, life was a routine. Then you got added. You made her life more exciting, she couldn’t wait to be around you. You added something Lara didn’t know she was missing.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

No Edward Cullen type shit, but Lara loves to watch you sleep. When she wakes up before your alarm goes off, she likes to soak in those few extra minutes of your peaceful face. She would try to coax you awake with soft kisses to make your morning.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Lara doesn’t like people that are unnecessarily mean. Therefore, if your way of flirting with people is by being mean, you have no chance. Sorry, mean fems. You have a better chance with Claire than Lara.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

One thing for sure is that Lara is a heavy sleeper. When she’s out in the wild, she’s alert, waking up at every little noise so she gets little to no sleep. But at home, when she’s safe and with you? Not only will Lara sleep like a log, but be prepared to hear grown man snores coming from her after being away.

Another thing that Lara would do is keep you captive on the bed. Because, until she wakes up, Lara would not move off of you. Even if you try to move her arm from around you, she would whine and move closer to you. Luckily, Lara is an early riser.

[thelonelyshore-if]

Ehehe you know I gotta ask for sfw alphabet for my baby Jay *kicks feet*

Here's a whole collection of fun facts for you <3 Alphabet beneath the cut!!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Very! They're super physically affectionate, even in their platonic relationships, so they're big on hugs or a hand squeeze with friends. And with their partners they love kisses and cuddling.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Jay is a super solid friend to have. They’re very loyal and will always have your back. They’re a little less gentle with their friends than they are with their partner(s)–a lot more teasing and also more willing to call them out on their shit. And since Jay’s pretty outgoing I could see any friendship starting by them just straight-up approaching you and starting a conversation.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

They're a big cuddler for sure. They like laying with their arm hooked around your shoulders and you curled into their side. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yessss they definitely do want to settle down someday; they're big on family. Jay's a fairly tidy person, but cooking is one of their greatest weaknesses. They typically eat out more often than not; or heat up premade meals. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

They're very gentle about it…but honest. Firm. They won't beat around the bush and will be very clear about their reasons, but they're not going to set out to hurt the person, either. They would do their best to hide how much it’s affecting them in an attempt to get a relatively clean break. And they’d want to be friends afterwards, as long as the reason for the breakup isn’t like. Something terrible.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Commitment doesn't bother Jay–they prefer being in a committed relationship to anything more casual–but they also see the value in keeping things light while they're getting to know a partner. MC is…a bit of an exception to this though. At this point in their life, they wouldn't be opposed to getting engaged after a year or two of dating. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Oh they're so, so gentle…the vast majority of the time. Which isn't to say they can't be harsh and thoughtless, because they absolutely can, but overall they're quite the softie.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Yes!!! Jay loves hugs!!! They'll take hugs literally whenever they're not picky. They tend to sweep you into it, holding you tightly and–especially if romanced–bury their head in your shoulder (or your hair, if you're much shorter than them hehe).

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

They're somebody who says it pretty freely, to friends and partners alike. They don't see the point in holding back.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Jay definitely gets jealous, but they do their best to process it in a healthy way. They’re polyamorous, so communication and honesty are super important to them–even in a fully monogamous relationship. They try to be upfront when they’re feeling jealous and to move past it…though sometimes that’s easier said than done.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Their kisses tend to be the slow, smoldering type. Something that starts almost chaste before slowly building into something deeper. They’ll kiss you anywhere–they aren’t picky–though they do like kissing on the lips. It leaves them breathless and lightheaded and giddy. They also like kissing their partner’s stomach and thighs. Meanwhile, being kissed anywhere on the chest drives them insane.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

They love kids!! They’ve spent most of their life looking out for their kid sister and her friends, and they’re really good with kids in general. They’ve got a pretty outgoing and gentle personality that lends well to dealing with children. Jay does want to be a parent someday, though if it wasn’t in the cards for their partner it wouldn’t be a dealbreaker. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Jay is used to early mornings due to work, even though naturally they prefer sleeping in. On the weekdays you’d wake up in their arms. They’d hold you for as long as they could, but eventually it would be time to get up and eat a (quick, simple) breakfast. Then a peck on the lips and off they’d go.

On the weekends, they like to be a little indulgent. They only go to the shelter once, in the afternoons, for lunchtime. Other than that, they’re typically off. They’d hold you for much longer on the weekends–take their time with it. When it was finally time to get up, they’d invite you to go out for breakfast. A slow and cozy morning.

That all being said…all bets are off when there’s a search going on.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Jay likes giving themself time to unwind from the day. They tend to spend their nights relaxing as much as possible–typically they like to curl up on the couch with a book. They'd love to share a relaxing night with a partner–and then share a shower, with bed right after. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Hmmm…I'd say Jay is pretty middle of the road when it comes to openness. They don't consider themself somebody with a lot of secrets, but some things–the hard things–they'd prefer to save until they're much closer to somebody. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It depends honestly. There are a lot of things about the world they live in that royally piss them off, and they get frustrated often enough. Typically they don't get angry without good reason…but once they're truly pissed it can take them a while to move on, depending on the circumstances. Especially if they're feeling betrayed.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Jay's a pretty thoughtful person!! They certainly don't have like. An encyclopedic memory of you lol, but they do their best to remember the details.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Continuing the trend of hinting at a future moment, since the relationship hasn't started yet: their first date will be a picnic. Of sorts.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

You know Jay is soooo protective. Not on a controlling way, but when it comes to The Horrors?? They'll do everything in their power to keep you safe. And they like feeling protected, too. They want to feel like they and MC have each other's backs 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

They'd put in a fair amount of effort!! They're a romantic, and they like doting on their partner. 

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Overworking is the big one. Especially when somebody is missing–they have a one-track mind. But even then they tend to stay late at the clinic or volunteer around town. Jay doesn't like being alone with their thoughts, and this means it might be hard to get them to slow down. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

It depends on the Jay. They both take a lot of pride in their looks, but M!Jay doesn’t think about it much beyond that. F!Jay, on the other hand, has more expectations due to being a woman. She puts more effort into her appearance than her male counterpart, but also does find a lot of joy in it, even though she never feels like she has enough time.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Nah lol. They’d miss you and feel the loss quite incredibly, but they feel like a complete person all on their own and not even a deep relationship would change that.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Jay swears up and down that they’ve seen wolves in the woods, something that nobody else seems to believe. They play guitar and have a very nice singing voice. Even if they weren’t in Easthaven they’d be a veterinarian–they love animals c:

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Jay wouldn’t consider it a dealbreaker if their partner didn’t want kids–not at all. But they’d find it very, very unattractive if their partner was somebody who was mean to kids. Or even rude. In fact, the one thing I know will be a dealbreaker for Jay in-canon will be if you’re exceedingly mean to their sister. They won’t put up with that shit.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

They have a super thick quilt in their room that they sleep with even if it’s the middle of summer. They claim it’s because they get cold, but more often than night they end up kicking off the quilt and just going without any blankets.