#im here with open arms

[thaitoz]

The subscorp shippers right now

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Springtrap's first night in Dead by daylight..

[manchesterau]

happy 15 years of dan and phil!

[art-from-the-juice-box]

gen loss dump part 2 :]

i have a gen loss playlist so the last two was me hitting randomize and drawing a pic based on the song before it finished. the second one technically isn’t that cause charlie’s inferno isn’t on apple music cause they hate me so it’s way more of the song out of spite because they wouldn’t give it to me.

[2knightt]

I saw that your requests are open and this idea came to me after a little ✨️incident ✨️

if you dont feel like writing this i completely understand, but how do you think the gang would react if you came to them upset because of an arguement/disagreement with your sibling or relative? I'm just looking for some comfort rn cause I overheard my family insulting me behind my back last night and I've been bothered ever since

it can be platonic or romantic idrc 😭

↳maybe it’s a cruel joke on me.₊˚✧

—IN WHICH, the gang comforts reader.

||✰ — the gang, separately

Johnny Cade ;

you rush out of the house after your sibling raised their voice at you—not bothering to stick around just to see the situation grow.

you felt tears trickle in the corners of your eyes as you walk to the lot, praying that your boyfriend would be there.

you knew he would be, he always was.

you finally reached the lot, your feet feeling like 1000 pounds after each step you take.

you stand there for a moment, your fists stuffed inside your pockets, looking around.

you see johnny sitting down with his head leaning against a wall.

you had stopped crying earlier, but seeing him made you wanna cry more.

you ran over to him, kneeling down beside him—throwing your arms around his neck.

you pull him into a hug, hiding your face in his neck.

you feel him wrap his arms around your waist. he stutters a few words before whispering in a soft voice, talking to you like you’re a baby.

“hey, hey. y/n, what happened?”

you sniffle, the grasp you have around him tightening.

“n-not to tight, love.”

you realize you’d been squeezing him like it was the last thing you were ever gonna do.

“sorry. i didn’t mean to.”

johnny’s thumb began to flutter—up and down on your back, trying to comfort you.

“it’s fine, y/n.”

the both of you are silent for a minute, neither of you wanting to speak.

“it’s okay. you’ll be okay, y/n.”

he didn’t even know what happened and yet, he’s still trying to help.

“my sibling man. the-they think they’re so much better than me.”

his grip on you tightens for a moment, trying to let you know that he’s there for you.

“it’s alright. you’re alright. they ain’t mean it.”

“but they did, johnny. you weren’t there, man. shouted at me, made me feel so stupid!”

you complain, your voice straining the more you speak.

“you ain’t stupid. not even close. smarter than i’ll ever be, shoot.”

johnny goes silent. thinking of the right words, how to put what he’s thinking into a way you’d understand.

“what they said don’t matter. as long as you’re okay—everyone will be okay. your sibling loves you still, i know they do. stuff like this happens all the time.”

johnny kisses the crown of your head before he continues with his rant.

“you still care about them, right? even if it’s one sided, you’ll be alright. any sort of relationship with your sibling—you’ll be alright. everything is gonna be just fine.”

Dallas Winston ;

you scoffed, listening to your siblings rant.

the more they talked, the less sense they made.

they jumped from topic to topic—criticizing you for things you did years ago.

you just couldn’t take it anymore. you walked out of the house, hearing them shout your name as you got into your car.

you drove and drove until you couldn’t see your house anymore. you pulled into an empty parking lot and sat in silence.

suddenly, your whole world came crashing down—realization hitting you so suddenly.

tears stream down your face, your body shaking with every passing second.

you needed someone to just be with you.

you needed dallas.

you took a few minutes to calm down before driving, taking deep breaths in and out.

you drive off to bucks. you knew he was having a party, should be easy to sneak in.

you park the car and rush out, swinging the door open.

a few people turn to look at you, but quickly focus back on drinking or their friends. you run upstairs, tunnel visioned in on the room dally’s usually in.

the door’s closed, which normally means he’s napping. you knock on the door.

you hear groaning, followed by bed springs squeaking. the door opens slightly, dallas peaking out into the hallway—suspicious of whoever was knocking.

but as soon as his eyes met yours, the door opened fully and he carefully rushed you into the room.

you figure your eyes must still be red from crying because he looks at you with both worry and anger.

he gently lays his palm on your cheek, bringing your eyes to meet his.

“what happened? did anyone do this?”

you glance down at your feet, not wanting to answer.

dallas exhales with obvious frustration.

“c’mon doll. you can tell me.”

you lean your head against his chest, silent until this moment.

“my siblin’. they never listen—no matter how much i try to change, no matter how much i do. i’m always some stupid kid.”

you mumble, your voice cracking mid sentence.

dallas sighs. he wraps an arm around your waist, the other one going to your head, gently holding it.

“i mean. i can beat ‘em up if you want me to.”

you giggle—well, tried too. your voice was so strained, you were silent.

“dallas.”

“yeah yeah, i know. i’m, ‘better than that.’”

he mocks past you as he rests his chin on top of your head.

“you can stay ‘ere if you want.”

he suggests, with slight hope in his voice.

“stay far away from ‘em for awhile. i don’t want them to start on you again.”

you smile at his words—feeling a sense of comfort and relaxation washing over you.

“yeah. sounds nice, dal.”

Ponyboy Curtis ;

you couldn’t handle hearing their voice any longer.

the genuine anger in their voice made you wanna sob.

you rolled your eyes the longer your siblings rant went on.

you kissed your teeth, tears slowly forming in your eyes as you waved goodbye.

your sibling was beyond angry as you ran out the door, but they knew they couldn’t stop you.

you ran and ran, your legs feeling like they’d never get tired. adrenaline making you go faster than you ever had.

you were barely conscious as you ran, allowing your body to take you wherever.

but when the adrenaline ran out, you found yourself outside of the curtis house.

the waterworks started again as you stared at the window. the curtains were closed but you saw light inside.

you caught your breath before stepping up the front porch.

you stood infront of the door, hoping it was ponyboy who’d answer the door. you knocked quietly, glancing down at the mat.

the door opens and your head shoots up, meeting a pair of green eyes.

“y/n?”

“oh, pony.”

you whisper as your eyebrows contorted into a sad look as you threw your arms around his shoulders.

he was taken aback by your face and the sudden affection, pony stumbles back slightly.

he gently wrapped his arms around your neck, trying to bring comfort.

“what’s wrong? did something happen? are you alright?”

he asks, his words coming out faster and faster each second.

you’re silent for what seemed like minutes.

“my sibling, pony. they refuse to listen! they don’t bother to listen to anyone! it-it’s so annoying. can’t take it anymore, man.”

you whisper, taking a shaky breath after finishing your rant.

you thought pony of all people could understand, especially with darry and all.

you started to cry again—even you didn’t know why.

you sniffled as ponyboy rocked both of your bodies side to side.

“breath, y/n. please—i don’t want you to freak out to much.”

you hadn’t even realized you were hyperventilating.

ponyboy grabbed your shoulders and looked into your eyes with a concerned look. he looked like he was gonna cry himself.

“do what i’m doin’, alright?”

he asks of you as be started to breath in, hold it in for a moment, and exhale.

you did the same for a few minutes. your tears coming to an end, along with your hyperventilation.

“it’s gonna be okay, y/n. shoot—me and darry go through that almost daily and we still love each other. i-i bet that this’ll be over soon. you n them were the closest siblings if i’ve ever seen one.”

he said, grabbing ahold of your hand.

he smiled, hoping you’d follow his actions once more.

you tried to smile, but gave a lazy one in return.

he wrapped you into another hug, kissing your cheek before doing so.

“you’re gonna be alright.”

“you think so?”

“i know so.”

Sodapop Curtis ;

you heard your aunt mock you for being a grease.

she was always so materialistic. not even your mom liked her but—she always came over.

you heard her mock the way you dresses, talked, walked, everything.

you felt so low. like you were some tiny germ in her world.

you wanted comfort, but you knew you couldn’t go to your mom. you couldn’t go to any of your family.

then you thought of soda. sodapop shouldn’t be busy today.

you climbed out of your window, not wanting to even be in the same room as your aunt.

you walked to the curtis house, peeking into the window as you walk by—seeing darry sitting down on his chair.

you really don’t want to talk to him right now. you didn’t want to talk to anyone but sodapop.

you walk up to his window and knocked lightly.

his curtains swung open and he opened the window in a swift motion.

“babe! what’s up?”

“..can i come in?”

“uh, totally! you ain’t even gotta ask!”

he responds with a smile so wide that it couldn’t help but make you feel soft.

you plopped down on his bed, flat on your back as you sigh.

soda gets a confused look as he tilts his head.

“what’s wrong, y/n? you’re awfully quiet.”

“do you think i’m a lowlife, soda?”

you ask, staring up at the ceiling. tears slowly forming in your eyes, sliding down your cheeks onto the blanket.

soda goes silent before sitting down next to you.

he grabs your hand and kisses it, mumbling something you couldn’t hear.

“if you’re a lowlife then i gotta be satan himself, love.”

he responds with a chuckle as he lays down beside you.

“what makes you ask, anyhow?”

he asks, turning his head to face you, still holding your hand.

“my aunt jus—said some stuff ‘bout me. made me feel a lil stupid.”

he squeezes your hand and looks up at the ceiling along with you.

“don’t you ever think like that again. no matter what anyone says, kay? you’re the sweetest person i’ve ever known! shoot—i don’t think there’s ever been a grease as nice as you.”

he rambles, bringing both your hands up to the sky, as if a sign of victory.

you smile, sitting up as you stare down at soda.

he makes eye contact with you, shooting up to sit alongside you.

there are still tears in the corner of your eyes, but they refuse to fall. soda grabs your chin to bring you closer to him, kissing the tears off your face.

“can’t let those tears ruin your pretty little face now, can we?”

he asks, with a cat like grin on his face.

you giggle, throwing him into a hug.

Darry Curtis ;

your uncle had come ‘round for a visit, gonna catch up with the family he said.

but all he did with you was make snide remakes at you or behind your back.

calling you a nobody, someone who’d never make it far in life.

he doesn’t know what you’ve gone through. he just sees the aftermath, not the past, not the present. just the person you want to throw away—the future you don’t want.

he brought you down so much, you found yourself at the bottom of a bottle.

you were outside the curtis house on the porch, drinking.

you always sit out there, nobody even bats an eye at you when you’re out there anymore.

it was late at night when you were out there. darry wasn’t home, you said goodnight to pony and soda—even johnny who was staying the night.

you didn’t want any of them to know you’re back into alcohol for comfort. you waited until you were alone.

you grabbed a few bottles and sat out in the porch, drinking and drinking.

you thought you were gonna waste yourself until the morning—hoping you could act sober around darry.

headlights blinded your vision as darrys truck pulled into the driveway.

you had a bottle up to your lips as he parked the vehicle. you started to freak out as you heard him shout your name, trying to hide the bottles under the bench.

“y/n? you better not be doing what i think you are.”

you hear him shout as he makes his way up the stairs. you pray that the bottles don’t roll from under the bench.

you shake your head, trying to straighten out your posture.

“nah, dare. yo-you know i changed.”

you defend yourself, trying to act sober but accidentally slurring your words.

you hear darry sigh as he pinches his nose bridge.

he sits down, turning his body to face you.

“i’m not a idiot, y/n.”

he says, bending down, grabbing one of the bottles.

“are you serious? i thought you sobered up.”

he complains, his elbows resting on his knees as he looks down at the bottle.

“i did! it’s just…it got tough again.”

you mumble, looking down at your feet with shame.

darry places his hand on top of yours. you look at him, making eye contact with him.

“what happened then? what happened that would make you turn back to this?”

he asks quietly, his eyebrows furrowed.

you could hear the disappointment laced in his voice the more he spoke.

“i was called a drunkard, a nobody, someone who’d never make it far in life. do you know how draining it is to hear that?”

you ask, tears already gliding down your cheek. your head is thrown back, hands covering your eyes as you erupt into sobs.

darry grabs your wrists, bringing your hands down. he let go, and placed his hands on your temples. he brought you closer to him, kissing your forehead before whispering sweet nothings—trying to make you feel better.

“what anyone says shouldn’t bother you none, y/n. all that matters is that you are you and i love you for you. i love your laugh, i love how caring you are, i love how you try to change for the better.”

darry mumbles, kissing your forehead every now and then in between his words.

he brings you to his chest. the two of you sit in silence. you listen to his heartbeat as the moon shines directly upon you two.

Steve Randle ;

you’re sibling had called you an idiot, a stupid loser, and so much more right to your face.

right in front of you. not even trying to hide it.

you pretended not to care, you pretended like it didn’t hurt as you walked to the nearest pay phone, you lied to yourself as you pressed steves number into the pay phone.

but still—even with all that convincing, you still didn’t believe you.

the phone rung and rung until he finally answered.

“whatchu want? who is this?”

“steve? oh thank god!”

you sighed with relief, slightly chuckling at your own demise.

“y/n! what’s up?”

he asks, trying to see why you’re calling him through a pay phone rather than your own phone.

“can you come and pick me up? i’ll be at the gas station!”

“the DX?”

“no-no. not the DX, the other one.”

“oh, totally. sit tight, doll.”

he says before you hang up.

you walk to the gas station which wasn’t to far. you sit on the bench, watching the cars go by. it was quiet for a bright afternoon. maybe everyone was at the beach, or seeing a movie.

you think to yourself as you see steves beat up car pull up to the curb right in front of you.

he rolls down the window, shouting for you to get in.

you rush up to the passenger door and swing it open, sitting down.

steve begins to drive off. he always just drives ‘till he run outta gas or gets tired.

“so,”

“so?”

you asked. steve began to speak but stopped mid-way. you always hated when anyone did that.

“why’d you need me to pick you up there? you look…sad.”

and that was your cue to start crying.

you didn’t mean to. you didn’t even feel the tears until you noticed spots of your pants had tear droplets on them.

steve had noticed you crying and pulled over to the side of the road.

he started to freak out a little—he never knew how to handle anyone crying.

“woah—y/n, what’s wrong? did i say something?”

he asks, leaning over to get closer to you.

you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, shaking your head.

“then why’re you cryin’?”

“steve, do you think i’m stupid? be honest.”

his eyebrows furrowed at your question, he almost laughed at such an idiotic thing to ask.

“hell nah. i mean, you see shepard? he’s so dumb he can’t tell up from down!”

he shouts, trying to comfort you.

you laugh slightly, the grasp you have onto the loose fabric of your pants loosening.

“you think?”

“i know, y/n.”

he whispers, kissing your temple before leaning back onto the drivers seat.

steve puts his hand on your thigh, his thumb caressing it in a comforting manner.

“how ‘bout i treat you to some food, huh? try n take your mind off that absolute nonsense you were talkin’.”

you nod your head in agreement.

Two-bit Matthews ;

your sibling had shit on you for everything under the sun.

looks, grades, how you spoke, how you walked, friends, boyfriend, shoot—even the way you brush your teeth.

you started tearing up during their rant. thought it was stupid to criticize everything you do.

the second they were done, you walked out. made sure to slam the door on the way out to make it known that you left, that you left angry and sad.

you thought of two-bit the whole walk.

did he think of that about you? does he think he could do better? does he think you smell funny?

it was 9PM, so two-bit would probably be at some gas station trying to get some booze.

you walk to his normal gas station where he has the most luck and you were right. he was leaning on the counter, laughing while the worker had a stern look on his face with his arms crossed.

you walked in and tapped two-bit on the shoulder.

“wh-oh! hey, babe.”

he greeted you with a grin and a kiss on the cheek.

“can i talk to you?”

two-bit got an awkward smile but nonetheless—agreed.

the two of you exited the store, but as soon as he stepped out of the door, you pulled him into a hug.

the sobs started again as you held him tightly.

two-bit was silent.

he was never good at comforting others, but he tried.

he always tried for you.

“shh, shh. it’s okay—i’m here. you’re just fine.”

he says, wrapping his arm around your waist, rocking the two of you left to right.

he kissed your temple, the crown of your head, to your forehead until you stopped crying.

“do you, do you ever think you can do better, two?”

you ask in a quiet voice, looking down at your shoes.

“what? never! infact, i think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me!”

he says, picking you up and swinging you around some.

you gotta admit, you laughed a little with tears still streaming down your face.

“why do you ask? who i gotta beat, huh?”

he asks, putting you down.

“nothin’ it was stupid.”

“you sure?”

“yeah.”

he kisses your cheek, his arms still wrapped around your waist.

“how ‘bout we go n bother that worker together, huh? bet we can steal the whole store if we tried hard enough.”

two-bit says with a grin, finally letting go of your waist.

you get a smile on your face at the thought of it. you nod in excitement as two-bit drags you back into the store. the two of you leaning against the counter, grinning from ear to ear.

i know we dont know each other that well but just know, i’m always here for you. no matter the situation im here for you!

[mx-maple]

ms paint kinitos i drew. not meant to be real good art I JUST WANT KINITOPET FANS TO INTERACT :-D

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

THE PACKAGE HAS BEEN DELIVERED AND FOR THE FIRST TIME IN WEEKS IM NOT HOME WHAT IS THISSSSS

[gilliontidestriderchampionoftheu]

can you IMAGINE if marshal john turns out to be the traitor? i think id be more heart broken than if it was caspian

[possamble]

realizing im kind of a weirdo about laios and marcille

[stupidrant]

I MISS YOU 😭😭 I HOPE YOU'RE DOING OKAY 🖤🖤🖤 MY NUMBER ONE ANGRBODA BLOG. A MAGIC SPELL FOR YOU 🪄 HOCUS POCUS BETTER THINGS ARE COMINH YOUR WAY 🪄 WE ARE GOING TO SEE RESURGENCE OF ANGRBODA LOVE SOON 🪄

The stuff you guys say warms my heart to no end 😭😭💜💜💜💜💜 Im forever grateful to have you all beside me

[arolesbianism]

GUYS.

New dupe real! Also new pod????? Olivia is that you girlie speak to me

[ratatatastic]

scare the hoes more and keep yapping about ekky (& others) getting used to maffhew, it delights me. and say even more about how sasha handles this feral and sweet omega that gets dropped into his orbit. smth smth “feels like i’ve known him 10 years” or whatever vows sasha recited to the press, cameras, and god

apparently we are taking more tumblr user ratatatastic abo yap thoughts for 500 may god hear our screams up wherever he is. big man in the sky you fuckin owe me one.

i think theres so much in particular to say in concerns of 1619 and how quickly they gelled irl but even more so in an abo au

ive always enjoyed when people assign matthew stronger scents that take getting used to if you don't like it already and i know ive read a fic where his scent notes did skew towards stronger cinnamon foods/drinks

anyways on that note it wouldnt surprise me that sasha takes so easy to this spicy little omega.

Like of course he does, he smells like the pastries he used to eat back at home, the pastries he eats now because he's found an established Finnish bakery down here that makes them homemade every morning, the bakery he likes to frequent with the other Finns when he can.

Is it ever a wonder that the cute omega that sent him such a terribly sweet text when the trade news broke out (you know, after the initial excitement worn off because Sasha does chuckle at memory of the brash "Fucking, right!" that pinged on his phone the very first time from an unknown number) smells like... home... No matter all the rumours that have swirled around Matthew, the rumours Sasha has personally experienced himself playing against him...he smells nostalgic. Like Sasha could be at home right now—you know, home home—lounging outside his cottage with tea and pastries on the little table that he's set out. The warm cinnamon that wafts from the typically sterile room they've assigned for pressers smells divine, for lack of a better word. It smells indulgent. Because Sasha can't have those homely pastries all the time, what, with his training regiment.

It's why he doesn't quite believe it that Matthew's the one that's the centre of it all. He's absolutely convinced he's hallucinating because the season is about to start and he's had to cut back on all his favourite sweets as much as it pains him to but for the betterment of the team? He'd do anything. And yet despite the way he rubs at his nose to at least try to clear it, he smells that cinnamon. That cinnamon that's definitely coming from new omega they traded over who's laughing so obnoxiously at the lectern they have set up that if his scent didn't catch your attention, his loud mannerisms certainly did. His voice is practically bouncing off the walls in big loud echoes that should hurt Sasha’s ears. Emphasis on should. As it is he finds his heart melting more than it should instead.

It's been quite a long time since someone's scent has moved him this much. All the people that have, have been in his life for so long he's forgotten what it's like to feel instant scent compatibility. His nostrils are flaring and he's trying his best not to open his mouth to huff in big gulps of it because it's rather impolite to be so obviously scenting the new guy. It could be misconstrued as Sasha taking offence to the new presence in the room.

Some part of his brain is still trying to catch up to the idea that Matthew even smells at all because the first time he met him (down here for some joint offseason ice-time) he didn't particularly smell like much, if at all really. Whether it's because he put on blockers to not intrude on pack territory until he smelled more like them, or he was still on suppressants even in the summer, Sasha wasn't sure and he definitely wasn't going to ask about it.

Known him for 10 years? He feels like he's known him his whole life. But 10's a safe number, 10's a number that won't scare off this new omega, right? 10's a number that conveys "As Captain I want this to work out, I'm opening up my pack for you, I won't shun you, you're welcome here," and not "If I stick my nose in your neck right now to scent you, they're gonna have to forcibly evict me from the new home I've found in you, and it's not gonna be a pretty outcome."

It's also why he's a little nervous when Media Day is over because despite how much it dragged along in years past it practically blitzed by and now Sasha has to—

You know, properly scent the new addition. Give them the purring acceptance of their Pack leader's scent to carry with them. And it's nothing big, it's just some chaste wrist rubbing... something subtle and not too overwhelming for everyone: the pack, and the newcomer alike. It's not like Sasha is going to mouth at Matthew's neck glands. He doesn't think he can even handle that right now but that's a problem for future Sasha—for when Matthew is really part of the pack and not like a goldfish in a plastic bag being dunked into an aquarium to get used to the water temperature. He just has to rub his wrist against his, it's like basic Alpha etiquette. It'll be fine, mostly. He hopes.

And it's as anticlimactic as he thought it'd be: gentle reintroductions and reignited chatter of excitement about the new season that's about to start... maybe just with the new lingering scent of sweet and spice in the background as if someone lit up a candle without Sasha even noticing it. It's a struggle to keep his eyes from closing from how heavy they feel, from how relaxed he feels in the presence of this new omega he knows has pissed him off on several occasions as composed as he was about it.

Matthew presents his wrist in a flourish successfully managing to divert his attention back to what they're supposed to be doing all alone like this in the dressing room like this, "I'm sure you've been dying to do this huh, Cap?"

Sweat starts to break out at the back of his neck. He knows? Sasha doesn't think he's been sending off any signals that could've hinted otherwise but Sasha admits that he's well out of practise, he hasn't had to reign in his scent this much in such a long time, and maybe Matthew picked up his weird fixation—

Matthew waggles his eyebrows for extra effect an offbeat later when the joke doesn't seem to land the way he wanted it to.

Oh, thank Christ, he's just teasing him. It's a joke. He doesn't actually mean it in the way Sasha thought he meant.

"Yes. Yes, I have," Sasha chuckles in relief, shaking his head at Matthew's attempt to lighten the mood.

"10 years, or so I've heard, bud."

"You heard? Uh, listened to the..." he trails off.

"Kinda hard not to when the setup made it sound like you were in the middle of the Earth, my guy. I don't think my ears are ever gonna recover from that."

"It's the first day for everyone," Sasha lightly chastises, not particularly aggrieved at all but wanting to keep up the banter to stall for time, so he can prepare himself. Quite honestly he feels like travelled back in time to the young anxious Alpha he was breaking out into the league for the first time.

"Be gentle, I bruise easily."

"Right, gentle. I'll treat you better than my clothes on the delicate cycle."

"Is that supposed to be a line?" Matthew says in glee, his voice pitching into incredulity.

"Line like fishing?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I'm talking about! You've been in this country long enough to pick up on that!"

"Yes, yes, that."

Matthew shoves at his shoulder playfully. "Just go on and do the thing already."

"Doing the thing."

Matthew snorts but his wrist is limp in Sasha’s hold. And as much as it was a dumb joke he does feel delicate between his fingers like that. So delicate that when he rubs his own wrist against his—to transfer over their pack scent—he feels like he's going to break it if he holds onto it for too long. It's why he drops it as quick as he took it, hands scrambling to his sides in an effort to remain polite but also to get a handle on himself so his pheromones don't go haywire with the new stimulus. It's a bit of a losing battle because he knows his scent just. But he can play it off as the excitement of an Alpha being able to claim another member to his pack, it's a possessive kind of thing.

"Well, see you around! Call it a hunch but I have a feeling we'll be seeing more of each other." And the joke wasn't funny the first time, truly the equivalent of leaning on the office fax machine and going "You come here often?" to your coworkers who just want to get their work done—and just as sleazy too with the greasy grin Matthew has permanently stuck to his face but Sasha still laughs like he did the first time he heard it.

And it's only now that Matthew is gone that Sasha realises the room smells strongly of cinnamon, so potent that anyone with a working nose would be able to tell that. Like Matthew was doing his best to ease Sasha’s obvious nerves when Sasha should've been the one to calm the omega who's been uprooted from their own pack and thrown into a completely new environment, himself.

"Jesus, it reeks in here. Smells like cinnamon," Aaron wrinkles his nose, wandering back in after his own media duties were done, finding Sasha all alone in the locker rooms.

"It does?" Like he can't tell the room smells like the equivalent of someone knocking over a Yankee Candle into an open fire.

"Yeah, like an awful lot." Aaron scrunching up his nose, trying to fight off an incoming sneeze. "It's strong," he says without thinking, swallows before his eyes shift over to Sasha and then to the floor, "Not bad just... strong..." The I can get used to it is left unspoken between them.

"I like it," Sasha admits because if Aaron is confessing to things without thinking then he might as well too. They've known each other long enough.

"I can tell." Aaron snorts, "You reek too."

Sasha lets out a questioning little noise, tilts his head to the side as he silently urges Aaron to continue.

"You have no idea what cinnamon and cardamom smell like together, do you? I feel like I walked into a bakery when I should be at the gym right now."

"Is that bad?"

"For you? No, of course not," Aaron's eyes soften, and while his scent wasn't anywhere close to abrasive, it does lighten up just a tad bit in the presence of his pack Alpha. "For me? I'd rather dunk my head in a bucket of coffee beans." A bit of an exaggeration on Aaron's part but the wry grin he has on really adds to the fact he's just joking—just a little, maybe there's some truth hidden in there. He knows how Aaron is, the way he tries to downplay anytime he bristles about something. Peace and vibes, and all that.

So Sasha can joke as well, "Forsy's stall is over there," and motions his head towards it across the room.

"Oh, hilarious."

"If I was funny I would say jock."

"You know, what? I think I will hit the gym today, thanks for reminding me."

"Mmm, anytime." And when Aaron's half out the door he adds, "Ask the staff where they put the jerseys we used today!"

"I'm going! To the gym!" he echoes back, not bothering to turn around as he shuffles down the hall in a hurry, and decidedly not going in the direction of the gym. It's not surprising when he hears chatter pick up and shoes scuffing briskly into the direction of the laundry rooms.

[b4kuch1n]

dip pen ink comm second round for in order R. Burry, @sega-bass-kissing, and Solaris

[thegreatestheaver]

sometimes I think about the fact that one of my homestuck troll ocs is canonically spayed like why did I do that what was going on in my head

[rapidhighway]

hi new to your account! very fond of your artstyle! any songs you would put into a metal sonic playlist?

Aaw thank you sm!! For the songs ill say Damage - Fit For Rivals, Monolith - Twin Pumpkin, Anger - Groundbreaking, tons of instrumentals also (i think it fits since he doesnt speak you knowww) idk if these are good choices but they are mine snncndncjdjdj anyway heres my metal sonic playlist if you want it 👍

[cupidleporis]

resuscitating my art account ft. two of my girlies' artfight refs