#it healed me a little but it also makes me cry

[rats-secret-stash]

Welcome to my BG3 (male romanceable companions focused) ANTI-SIX-PACK RANT /HEADCANONS

[Warning - bad English and possibly incorrect interpretations of characters] [It’s just my headcanons, based purely on vibes. I also want to make it clear that I enjoy and respect various other hcs and portrayals of these characters (and i’ll probably draw them in various ways too). Do not fight me, i’ll cry lol]

WYLL

I’m a firm believer in Wyll being the only male companion with a (fairly) well-defined six-pack

He spent years training and he’s a son of a Grand Duke – so he probably ate well and learnt how to take care of his body properly

I also think he cares about the way he looks (/he’s aware how it can affect the way people perceive him) – so his muscles would be formed partially by practical use (fighting, training) and partially by some conscious muscle-building exercises. In other words, he’s the only male companion I can imagine doing planks and sit-ups in front of his tent lol

However, when I say “well-defined” abs, I mean a nice healthy balance between muscle and fat. None of that dehydrated “flexing 24/7” bullshit

ASTARION

I’m not sure if vampires sustain the body they had before being turned, and i kinda like this idea bc it could explain why Astarion looks like he’s in a good shape when we meet him in Act 1

However, my hc is that his body changes and gets healthier as the game progresses

In Act 1, he should be really thin. And I mean sickly thin. He was starved and tortured for centuries, and I can’t imagine him doing sit-ups in the kennels and working on a six-pack while barely surviving all the physical and psychological torture

After being tadpoled, he finally gets some freedom and is able to eat regularly (especially if Tav/Durge lets him feed on them, which is especially important in Act 2 where there aren’t many animals or alive enemies that he could feed on) – Astarion would get healthier and finally gain some weight

But still, I can’t imagine him doing core workouts in front of his tent. Let my boy rest.

He’s got some muscles (with emphasis on “some” bc that 8 in strength is.. you know), he builds them while doing all that rogue sneaking and killing – but overall he stays slim

Slim BUT (and i’ll die on this hill) he gains some softness. He finally gets that extra roll of fat on his stomach, a little bit of body getting squished by the waistband of his pants. He’s finally healthy and healing

Now we’re getting to the part where I start to scream at Larian for the crime of giving these men six-packs

HALSIN

What do you mean – we get a BIG elf, BIGGER than average elf should be, a man who resembles a BEAR, a man who often QUITE LITERALLY IS A BEAR(animal) – AND YOU DON’T MAKE HIM LOOK LIKE A BEAR(man)??? WHAT DO YOU MEANN??

Putting a high-definition six-pack on this man is a crime.

He should look like a bear, like the hammer-throwing athletes, like Thor in God of War, like a man who can lift a whole ass log while helping build a new shelter for his community. I need him strong. I need him big. I need him huggable. I need him to look like he would survive the winter

He should have strong arms (let’s ignore the fact that he has 10 in strength and that even Shadowheart is stronger than him)

He has muscles, build by physical work and for practical purposes – but they’re hidden under a healthy amount of fat

This man is not hitting the gym to form a six-pack. He’s got shit to do, place to be and people and nature to guide and protect

But, he wouldn’t overindulge in food – he believes in balance and all that, and I think he might view overeating as a waste 

But still, the fat is there bc.. bc it just is, let him eat dammit

GALE

Larian when I catch you. Larian you cowards.

Why does his 8-strength ass have a six-pack. For why. What was the reasonn??

He doesn’t even have to move a finger to do anything, he can magic everything. Fighting? Magic. Having to move the couch in his room? Magic. Telekinesis probably.

This man doesn’t need a six-pack and you can’t tell me he was doing core workouts in his wizard tower – he’s been too busy reading and researching and mastering his spells and romancing a goddess (COUGH or rather being groomed cuz that power imbalance is nasty COUGH)

Also, he mentions food a couple of times, doesn’t he? He can cook, he likes to eat – that’s canon bc i said so. He looks like he enjoys his dessert after dinner. AND HE CAN AFFORD IT. If he can afford all those books, he can afford some snacks too

That being said, if we were allowed to have a fat romanceable man, it would be Gale. He doesn’t need to be slim, he doesn’t need to be ripped. There is nothing in his lore that would justify that (imo) – let his stomach be soft, amen.

(However, I also kinda like the idea of Gale using some sort of illusion spell and that his six-pack is magical lol. Imagine, the rest of the party finding out that this whole time he’s been wasting a spell slot and his concentration ON A SIX-PACK SPELL)

FEMALE ROMANCEABLE CHARACTERS

When it comes to the girls, I can see all of them having well defined muscles and six-packs – they’re all physically strong (or at least stronger than the guys) and they all have a history with fighting/training 

I can also see them without six-packs – especially Shadowheart and Karlach (a bit more on it below)

LAE’ZEL – has the least body fat. I think her muscles should be the most visible. This is the only character who is allowed to have dehydrated muscles, and that's purely because of the way githyanki look

KARLACH – probably didn’t have a chance to rest and eat properly while in Avernus and then while being on the run. I think she could (similarly to Astarion) gain some weight throughout the game – she would finally have a chance to rest, eat and heal a bit. Also, she enjoys a nice meal and some beer

MINTHARA – I have to admit that I don’t know much about her. But she gives me the vibes of someone who likes a routine and takes their physical appearance very seriously (in a military-way, not fashion-way). I can see her building her muscles through fighting but also through purposeful exercises intended to keep her body lean and well built.

SHADOWHEART – she could have a six-pack, I’m down with this hc BUT. I can also see her having more curves and softness. Yes, she had to go through training – but she also can use spells in fights… so it should be fine for her to be softer

In conclusion – let them eat, let them be hydrated, let them look like people and not marvel superheroes

Doodle of Astarion going from starved and newly freed to eating better and getting chubbier

Controversial, but i'm six-pack hater. Out of romanceable male companions only Wyll should be allowed to have defined abs. Thank you for coming to my ted talk

[00valentina-writes00]

hey!! i know that you already wrote this with Abby but i was wondering if you could do Ellie with gf that has an ED🙏🏻🙏🏻

✞⛧ Ellie with a girlfriend that has an ED ✞⛧

✞⛧ Ellie is incredibly perceptive, so she notices the little things—the way you push food around your plate, the way your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes when she offers you a bite of something.

✞⛧ At first, she doesn’t say anything, worried she might push you away, but she watches. Observes. Pieces things together.

✞⛧ The day she finally brings it up, she’s gentle but direct. “Hey, babe… I’ve noticed you haven’t been eating much lately. You wanna talk about it?”

✞⛧ She never pushes you to open up, but she always makes it clear that she’s there, whenever you’re ready.

✞⛧ Ellie starts paying extra attention to the foods you do eat, mentally cataloging what you seem comfortable with.

✞⛧ She never makes a big deal about meals, but she subtly adjusts things—making your favorites, sharing plates with you so it feels less overwhelming, casually mentioning when she’s hungry so it feels normal

✞⛧ She gets really protective if anyone comments on your eating habits, especially in a way that makes you uncomfortable. “Hey, maybe shut the fuck up?”

✞⛧ If you ever apologize for struggling, she’s quick to shut that down. “You don’t owe me an apology for something you’re fighting through.”

✞⛧ She starts suggesting fun little food-related activities—baking cookies together, making stupid sandwiches with whatever’s in the fridge, feeding each other just to be goofy.

✞⛧ She does the whole casual snack offering move, holding out a chip or a piece of fruit like it’s no big deal, just to see if you’ll take it.

✞⛧ If you get overwhelmed or anxious around food, she helps ground you. “Hey, it’s just us. No pressure, okay?”

✞⛧ Ellie is a touchy girlfriend, so if she ever notices you getting lost in your head, she pulls you close, rubbing her hands up and down your arms.

✞⛧ She makes a habit of reminding you how much she loves you, not just your body. “You know you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, right?”

✞⛧ But she also makes sure you know how gorgeous she thinks you are, in the most casual, Ellie way possible. “Babe, I’d fight a clicker just to kiss your stupid pretty face.”

✞⛧ If you’re having a bad body image day, she finds little ways to help—lending you her hoodie, wrapping herself around you in bed, telling you about all the things she adores about you.

✞⛧ She’s fiercely patient. No matter how long the journey is, she’s in it with you.

✞⛧ If you ever relapse, she doesn’t get mad. She just holds you, tells you it’s okay, reminds you that you’re not alone.

✞⛧ “One bad day doesn’t erase all the progress you’ve made. I see you trying. That’s what matters.”

✞⛧ She does little things to make sure you’re taking care of yourself—grabbing you water, making sure you’re resting, casually suggesting a snack when she knows you haven’t eaten in a while.

✞⛧ Ellie is not above using puppy eyes to convince you to eat with her. “Please, babe? You don’t want me to eat alone, do you?”

✞⛧ She’s your biggest cheerleader, celebrating even the smallest victories with a kiss and a proud little grin.

✞⛧ She also knows distraction is key, so she’ll start rambling about dumb things to make eating less stressful. “Okay, so hear me out—zombie cows. How would that even work?”

✞⛧ If you ever cry out of frustration with yourself, she wipes your tears away, kisses your forehead, and reminds you that healing isn’t linear.

✞⛧ “I love you no matter what. No condition, no expectation—just you.”

✞⛧ She has zero tolerance for anyone who makes you feel bad about yourself. She’ll throw hands if necessary.

✞⛧ Ellie constantly reminds you how strong you are, because she knows you are. “You’re fighting every day, and I think that’s fucking amazing.”

✞⛧ If you ever struggle with eating in front of others, she makes excuses to sneak away with you, finding a quiet place where you can just be.

✞⛧ She picks up on your tells—the way your fingers fidget when you’re anxious, the way your jaw tightens when you’re struggling. And she’s always there with a soft touch or a whispered reassurance.

✞⛧ Ellie believes in you, even when you don’t believe in yourself.

✞⛧ She never makes you feel like a burden. If anything, she considers it an honor to be someone you trust.

✞⛧ On your hardest days, she just sits with you. No pressure, no expectations—just quiet, steady love.

✞⛧ Ellie sees you. Not just your struggles, not just your pain—you, the person she loves more than anything.

✞⛧ And she’ll remind you of that every single day, in her own Ellie way—through bad jokes, lazy kisses, and that deep, unwavering loyalty of hers.

[finelinevogue]

i’m right here

summary - you’re constantly worried about Aaron after a dreadful attack

pairing - aaron hotchner x pregnant!reader

word count - ~1k

You were a little bit emotional to say the least.

If you were to perfectly describe it; You felt a wreck. You were sad and insecure, but you were also hopeful and happy. You were anxious and upset, but you were also relaxed and safe. You were worried and scared, but you were also comfortable and okay.

Feelings were already a lot to deal with, but add in a pregnancy and your emotional baggage will become ten times worse.

Like now, for example.

You felt so warm and safe in bed with your husband, but you were also so damn anxious and sad.

You stared at the wall as you slept on your side, tiny tears dripping from the corners of your eyes.

The room was warm and the bed was comfortable. Aaron was tucked in safely on the other side of the bed. You had started the night with Aaron right behind you, cuddling you like he always does, but he ha drifted away in the night and you really missed him.

He was 20 centimetres away and you missed him.

You looked at the picture on your nightstand. It was a picture of Aaron and Jack, framed in a batman themed frame because that’s what Jack had picked out.

It was taken only weeks before Aaron had been stabbed 9 times, alone, in his apartment, around the early stages of your relationship with him.

2 years on and the incident still scares you.

You blew out a short breath, blinking back the tears, when you felt Aaron’s hand come around your waist. His body slid right back up against yours and his chin rested on your shoulder, but not before leaving a kiss there.

“I’m right here.” He whispered, making your tears spill even more.

Your hand came to rest upon his hand that was on your stomach, stroking calming lines across your swollen belly.

You couldn’t find the words to reply.

“You know, I was just dreaming about you.”

You swallowed back the tears with a smile, rolling your eyes at his silliness. Whatever he was doing was working though.

“Pretty sure I dreamt you were a pirate or something.”

You chuckled at that, thinking that he was going to make up some really lovely dream story but remind you there was nothing better than having the real version of you right there in his arms. Instead he was honest about how he was still dreaming about you as a pirate and had been ever since you dressed as a pirate for halloween.

“You, like always, were on my mind,” Aaron kissed your shoulder again, “But what’s on yours?”

You shook your head, “Nothing good.”

Aaron’s other arm snook underneath your body so he could help carefully turn you around in his hold.

His heart broke a little when he saw how teary and puffy your eyes were. You had clearly been upset for a while but hadn’t wanted to bother him.

“Y/N…” He whispered, cupping a hand on your cheek and wiping your tears. “Talk to me.”

His brows furrowed like he was angry at whatever, or whoever, had made you sad. He had felt ridiculously overprotective ever since he had found out you were pregnant and seeing you cry was the worse sin there was.

“You’re here.” You said softly.

Aaron nodded carefully.

Your hand slowly moved underneath his pyjama t-shirt and traced over the jagged edges of his scars. You knew exactly where each of them were on his chest and you move efficiently between them to count them all again.

Aaron let you do what you needed to do.

After the events of that fateful need 2 years ago, you and Aaron had gone to therapy together to talk through it all. Aaron had found out there that you needed to touch the scars from time-to-time to make sure that they were all sealed and healed. You needed a physical reminder that he was okay now.

If anyone else touched him the way you were then he would feel so uncomfortable and exposed. With you, he felt safe and grounded.

“You need to try and sleep. Get some rest, before trouble comes.” Aaron suggested.

“I c-can’t.”

“Why, sweetheart?”

“In case he comes back. I need to keep you safe.” You said.

“Y/N.” Aaron’s frown softened, finally understanding the reason for your upset.

You were so worried about something bad happening again that it was keeping you up. Aaron needed as much rest as possible with such a stressful job, so you decided you’d take charge of night-watch.

“I need to. I can’t…. I…” You were getting yourself worked up again.

“Look at me.” Aaron’s voice forced you to look his way, “I am right here. Jack is next door. We’re all here and we’re all safe, that much I can promise you.”

“But…” You hiccuped.

Aaron shook his head, “We’re okay. We got the bad guy, we always do.”

“I just.. I keep thinking how alone you must’ve felt…” You cried, “A-and I was out at a-a bar.”

Aaron smiled at you.

“I wasn’t alone.” Aaron picked up your hand gently and rested it over his heart, “You were right here. So was Jack. You both got me through it - all of it.”

You gave out another cry and Aaron knew then that you would be okay, you just needed to understand that he was here now and he was okay.

He brought you closer to him, tucking your head beneath his chin and holding you close against him. He made sure there was room for your bump between you both and cradled you tight.

“I’m right here. I’m safe.” Aaron repeated mindless phrases to you to remind you of the present.

He was okay. You and Jack were okay. You’d all be okay in the end.

[shiki-jin]

sweet embrace

hawks x reader (angst -> comfort)

was feeling like shit so i wrote this rq,, also probably definitely not how you're supposed to take care of wounds but i wrote this in one sitting so o7

CWS: self harm, almost dying (but it's implied your quirk saves you), a lot of blood

when you're on your own, blood dripping down your arms, keigo gives you a call.

the phone rings beside you.

you barely have the energy to look over — keigo is calling you.

‘i should probably pick up.’

you reach out your arm, slowly, shakily, and press the little green ‘accept’ button.

“mind if i pay a visit?”

he speaks with a certain charm that makes the blood rise to your cheeks.

“go ahead.”

your voice is tired, he notes. makes sense, considering it's past midnight.

in the silence, he hears dripping.

“... you leave your sink on, birdie?”

you look at your arms, nodding like he can see you. “oh, i think so. i'll turn it off soon. 'm tired right now.”

“gotcha. i should be there in five to cuddle all that fatigue away.”

“..oh. can you, um, take a bit longer, maybe?”

“hm? why's that? you don't have to get anything ready or clean for me, ya know. just wait for me in bed, okay?”

you think for a second. “no, i still…” your vision blurs. you feel the cold of the tiled floor against your face. “ow.”

keigo's voice grows more concerned by the second. “you okay, sweetheart?”

you push yourself off the floor, your hands and arms weak and trembling. “i’ll be fine. just, like, go get takeout or something.”

he stays quiet, long enough to hear you messing with something… metal? no, it sounds like paper now. he keeps listening.

“ugh, this is annoying…” he hears you mumble, ripping something akin to —

fuck.

“i’ll be there soon, just— agh, hey, keep talking to me, okay?”

you tilt your head, but nod not a second later. “sure. uh, i'd prefer you get something small since i'm not super hungry, but i don't mind eating… ugh, um, eating the leftovers t-tomorrow.”

your vision keeps going in and out, and right when you're going to stand up to wash your hands, you slip. you could've probably hear the flapping of keigo's wings if you weren't so preoccupied.

it feels like your entire body is shaking now. you don't care that much. “okay, gimme like, s-some 10 extra minutes… it'll probably be,” you feel lightheaded. “it’ll be clean, by then. i think.”

he doesn't respond. you hear the front door click open, and you can't help but sigh. he's probably going to yell at you, or something. god, you couldn't even stick to one easy agreement. isn't that pathetic?

you try to push yourself off of the floor, but all the liquid you've been letting run down your wrists is making it difficult. you manage to sit on your knees, awaiting the scolding you'd get for being so stupid.

the moment the bathroom doors open, you close your eyes.

“shit, that's bad—”

his hands are taking yours before you can object, and he's using the same bandages you got out of the first-aid kit to wrap up your wrists. the material dyes red quickly, but at least it's somewhat stopped the bleeding. you can hear keigo cursing under his breath, and you feel a bit guilty.

“mmh, 's not that bad, look,” you lift up the unbandaged wrist and show it to him. “they're half-healed, already. i wasn't... wasn't trying to die.”

“don't— you're on the verge of passing out, that's pretty bad in my book!”

he takes the chance to wrap up that arm, too, and you're honestly surprised he hasn't started his lecture. you open your eyes ever so slightly, and you realize his chest is right in front of you. you lay down on it, your head on his shoulder, and relax.

“but i know. i know you weren't trying to die, i know. just with me, kay, [name]?”

he's obviously scared, he's speaking quickly, and you feel even worse. “...kay, i'll try.. 'm sorry.”

“it's okay, it's okay, i'm here with you. for you. just stay awake for a bit, that's all i'm asking, dove.”

your breath hitches, and you practically cry the words out. “just yell at me already. just get it over with, i get it, i'm pathetic — i can't keep to a single promise, so yell at me.”

your hands turn to fists, and keigo feels his shirt getting wet. he hugs you tightly, and you can't help but return the gesture. “i'm not going to yell at you, i'm not angry or mad, i understand. i get it, i really do. you're not pathetic, you don't deserve anger.”

raising your head you can see blood all over the floor and sink. you realize it's probably in your clothes by now — and keigos, too. you try to push yourself off him with the little strength you still have, but he keeps you close.

“...i still need to clean—” he shakes his head. “i'll take care of it, don't worry, just focus on me, birdie. just talk to me.”

you suppress the whine that wants to escape your throat. “...i, i tried. i really, really tried, i swear,” you inhale sharply, trying to calm down. “i—i tried really hard, b-but, i couldn't stop, a-and...!”

“i believe you, i promise, i believe you, baby. i know you tried your best, and i'm proud of you for it.” he pressed a gentle kiss against you. after a few moments of silence, he speaks calmly. “could you show me your wrists again, dove? 'wanna make sure you're not bleeding too much.”

you nod, and lift one of them up for him to hold. “...okay, that's good, seems like it's healed up. the other?” he presses another kiss to your hands. you lift up the other wrist, and he holds it just as gently as the first. “thank you, baby... they've both healed, for the most part, so do you want to lay down in bed?”

you think for a while. you're tired, exhausted, but if you go to bed...

“will you stay?”

he doesn't think about it.

“i will. i promise.”

you nod. “t-then, yeah, i wanna go to bed.”

he picks you up, holding you against him while he walks to your bed. he sets you down on it, and lays on the other side. “can you face me for a bit, songbird?”

you pull your legs just a bit closer to your chest, one of your arms holding your knees while the other rubs your tears away. you shake your head. “don't wanna.”

“that's okay. can i hold you, then?”

you nod, and he wraps an arm around your waist to pull you closer so that he's spooning you. his legs tangle with yours, and he presses soft kisses to your back, your neck, your scalp.

you're shaking less now, he thinks. he pulls the covers up so you can both be warm, and one of his wings instinctually covers your body. “is it okay if i make a suggestion? no need to answer right away, we can talk about it in the morning — or whenever you're ready.”

before the exhaustion completely takes over, you want to get an answer out. “go ahead.”

“thank you. i... when you get these types of urges, i'd like for you to call me. talk to me. if i can't talk you out of it, that's okay, just ask me to come over. i want to help you with this.”

you listen intently, his voice so soft and sweet it almost lulls you to sleep.

“okay. i'll... i'll call you, promise.”

he presses another kiss to your neck. “thank you for trusting me with that, dove. i'm proud of you.” you can tell he's about to fall asleep, too. “you should rest now, though. i'll be here when you wake up.”

the next time you're in the bathroom with a box cutter to your arms, he's the one to pick up the call.

[jackactuallywrites]

All Seeing, All Loving, All Knowing

Warning: Typical British drinking (alcoholism lite)

Summary: Drunk night out with your girlie! And also Ghost!

Notes: It is too amusing to me to constantly cocktease our readers I apologise for nothing

Word Count: 2,756

ao3 link

It didn’t matter how many times you heard that trainers were in at the clubs; you still couldn’t wrap your head around it. Trainers were for walks, painful heels were for clubbing, alongside bandage dresses that did their best to suffocate you.

You’d considered the trainers several times that night, but you couldn’t quite bring yourself to wear them out, so you’d gone with ankle boots instead. They were a good compromise, you thought; they provided ankle support, and with laces, you could tie them tight enough so they wouldn’t rub and give you blisters, but they still had a sky-high heel, so you didn’t feel like you’d given up completely. That, and the skimpy bandage dress that was doing a great job of trying to suffocate you with your own boobs, which you’d hoisted up in a push-up bra. Helen was dressed similarly, though, with her bright pink hair, she was far more eye-catching. Not necessarily a good thing either, considering how many of her exes seemed to be out tonight, making her a beacon for lesbian dramatics. You’d already had to sneakily exit one club to avoid a particular ex of hers who had a penchant for throwing drinks, so you were hobbling across the cobblestones to a different club, praying that whatever drama would surely arise in that one wouldn’t involve a vodka lemonade to the face.

You were only halfway across the street, having had to pause to tie your laces back up, when you heard men shouting from down the road, shouting your name. Damn Helen and her hair! You had exes to avoid too! If it was Matt, you were running for it, untied shoes be damned. You abandoned your shoelace to look over at the group of rowdy men, only to find a familiar face at the centre of them.

Ghost.

It was weird to see him in such a pedestrian environment; you only ever really saw him solo in the middle of the night; to see him surrounded by lads in a busy club street was bizarre. He was dressed the same way he always dressed, blue jeans, black jumper, dark trainers, though he’d eschewed the mask. His face was still in the healing process, though the bruises had faded more, a strange green tinted purple on his skin. You could see that he’d had his hair trimmed too, practically a military buzzcut, a tragedy, right as it had been getting a little fluffy. The men around him were unfamiliar to you, but they looked military, big and beefy, all jostling one another with that typical smug arrogance that came with being in the army. Already, they didn’t feel like your type of men, but Ghost had separated from them and was making a beeline toward you.

Helen had been so distracted by a beautiful woman smoking outside that she didn’t seem to notice the group of lads until Ghost was mere metres away. The look on her face could have made a toddler cry, and she looked at you suspiciously, “Isn’t that that lad from the pub that time?”

“No?”

“Is he the sneaky link you’ve been hiding from us?”

“What sneaky link?”

Helen snorted, “You think we don’t notice? Please. You’ve had a little soldier on the side. That’s why you don’t host girls nights anymore.”

Well, she had you there. There was no time to bicker anymore; Ghost was standing right in front of you, his eyes flicking from you to Helen and then back to you. Helen regarded him haughtily, as she did with all men, “You gonna introduce yourself then? Or are you only a ‘two in the morning u up’ type?”

Yeesh. She really did like to embody the ‘man-hating lesbian’ vibe. It was a great vibe though.

Ghost wasn’t put off and instead offered Helen his hand, “Not my style at all. Name’s Simon.” She looked at him, then at you, and you widened your eyes a touch at her, silently begging her to be nice. She narrowed her beautifully lined eyes as though wishing she could stab her stiletto nails through his fingers, but she took his hand and briskly shook it, and you knew she was doing her best to crush his fingers, “Helen.”

Well, that was about as friendly as Helen got. You laughed awkwardly, trying to diffuse the tension radiating from Helen, “Simon! Hi! Hey! What are you doing here?”

He tilted his head at you as though he was trying to understand how you wanted him to act around your friends. “Just out with the lads. Some of ‘em only got back tonight so ‘m taking them out for a couple drinks. What about you, love?”

“Oh, you know, drinks and dancing.”

Ghost looked down at your heels and then at your face, one brow raised, “You planning on snapping an ankle?” He didn’t wait for a response, dropping down into a crouch, gently pulling your foot forward and redoing your laces tightly, forcing you to place a hand on his shoulder for balance. With one done, he tapped on your other shoe, and you shifted your weight so you could hold that boot out for him to relace, the leather snug around your foot. His fingers trailed over the back of your calf as he straightened back up, “That should keep you all night.”

It took you a good second to bring your brain back into gear; the sight of Ghost practically kneeling down before you, looking up at you with those eyes had filled your head with all sorts of images, wondering if the soldier in him was good at following orders. You needed to find out. You needed to have him on his knees in between your legs.

“You alright, love?”

He was looking down at you as though he was concerned, but you could see the smugness in his eyes, that faux innocence, like he didn’t know exactly what you were thinking about. You blinked away the images in your head, storing them away for later. Helen’s patience was beginning to thin; you could tell by the tapping of her fingers on her arm; after all, it was a girl's night, not a girl's plus Ghost, so you decided to draw a quick end to the conversation, a little emboldened by the shots you’d already had tonight. You leant up as far as you could get, resting both hands on Ghost’s chest so you could press a kiss to his cheek, leaving a little red lipstick mark there, “I’ll text you later, yeah?”

Now it was Ghost’s turn to look taken aback, but only for a second, his face quickly breaking into a wide smile, revealing the scars on his cheeks as the tissue pulled tight. He put one of his hands over yours on his chest, “You need anything you let me know, yeah?” You nodded, and he reached out to gently brush a thumb across your cheek, a tender gesture that made your heart skip and your insides tingle. He leaned in to press a kiss to your head, “Have a nice night.”

With that, he left you to return to his group, the berating from which you could hear even from so far away, though Ghost took no shame in his actions, looking immensely proud. Helen snorted and rolled her eyes at you, though there was no real bite in her tone, “My God, why don’t the pair of you just fuck in the middle of the street? Like a pair of teenagers, you are. Or unfixed cats. It’s nauseating.”

You dragged your eyes away from Ghost and back to Helen, wrinkling your nose at her, “Bite me. Not like you don’t eye-fuck every girl that looks at you.”

She grinned at that and linked her arm through yours, pulling you towards another club, “What can I say?”

A fair few hours later, your feet ached, your calves felt like they were going to cramp any second, and you’d danced so much that you were sure you’d worked off the empty calories of the many shots of alcohol coursing through your system. Helen had given up on her heels and was now walking barefoot next to you, emphatically explaining why it wasn’t her fault that taken women seemed to gravitate toward her. Neither of you noticed that there was still a wedge of lemon in her hair from where the lemonade had been thrown over her. At least you’d managed to miss most of it this time.

Walking in this state felt impossible, especially considering Ghost had tied your shoes so tightly you couldn’t figure out how to undo the knot, trapping you in your heels. You had no choice though so you soldiered on, practically dragging Helen to where the lines of taxis were.

“Little love!”

The shout was practically deafening, several heads turning to the sound, yours included. There he was, still with his mates, but he barged through them to get to you, a waft of smoke trailing behind him. Helen had found a lamp post to cling to instead of you, and Ghost took the opportunity to sweep you up into his arms, squeezing you in a tight hug, his face nuzzling into your neck. Clearly, he’d had about as much alcohol as you. But you weren’t about to complain, still buzzing, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, enjoying the scent of him mixed in with cigarette smoke and alcohol. He picked you up off the ground, and you had just enough time to grab Helen’s arm as Ghost carried you over to where his mates were leaning against the brickwork.

Without a word from you, he dropped you back on the pavement, his arms encircling your waist as he presented you to his mates,

“Wanted you to meet the lads, love.” He named them in quick succession, and you immediately forgot all of their names, mostly focused on trying to stand upright. Although, what did stick out in your mind was when one of the lads, Baz, you think his name was, mentioned how whipped Ghost was.

“Barely shut up about you tonight. You’d think other women didn’t exist.”

Ghost practically purred in your ear, “They don’t. Not to me.”

“Did you know he carries photos of you with him? Sure we caught him wanking in the barracks to one-“

Whatever Baz had to say was cut off by Ghost reaching over to smack him around the head, but it was too late. You’d already heard that delightful little piece of information, and there was no putting that back in the box. Ghost grumbled and hugged you tighter, and you thought one of his friends fake retched at the affection until you realised it was real retching; Helen was puking in the gutter. You wriggled out of Ghost’s arms to stumble over to Helen, rubbing her back as she emptied her stomach into the street, a disgusting rainbow of glitter amongst the chunder. Ghost sniggered behind you, but he reached out to pick up a few strands of Helen’s hair, holding them out of the way until she’d finished.

“Give us a bottle of water lads.”

From the group of men, a bottle of water was produced, and Ghost handed it to you so you could help Helen clear the spatter off her arm and swill the water to get the taste out of her mouth. She groaned, and you sighed, too drunk to be a caretaker but without choice. “I need to get her back home.”

“Where does she live?”

“‘Round Salford way.”

Ghost nodded, and he pointed out a taxi, “Let’s get her in one.”

It was quite cosy with five of you bundled in the back of the taxi, with Helen closest to the door, you on Ghost’s lap, and then two of Ghost’s mates on the other side. The three soldiers were engaged in some army nonsense, but you found it easy enough to tune out, your head resting against Ghost’s chest as his fingers stroked up and down your arm, your hand resting on Helen’s back. When you finally reached her house, he helped you carry her to the front doorstep, where her eternally patient sister awaited her, dragging her into the house. With your charge taken care of, it was back into the taxi with Ghost.

After the lads were dropped off, you were finally on the way back to yours, curled up in the back seat with Ghost, his arm draped around your shoulders as you laid with your arm wrapped around his stomach, half asleep. The idea of having to walk up to your flat sounded like sheer torture, and you were quite tempted to see if you could fall asleep in the taxi, but Ghost wouldn’t allow it.

“Come on, darlin’.”

You grumbled about your shoes, so he simply reached into the taxi and pulled you into his arms, carrying you like a princess. He paid the driver, then whisked you up to your apartment, surprisingly steady considering how much he’d been drinking. There was some fumbling with the locks as he tried to juggle both you and the keys, but he managed, carrying you over the threshold and shutting the door behind the two of you.

Roach and Soap knew better than to come and see you after a night out, knowing that you were likely to try and cuddle with them, so the apartment was quiet as Ghost walked you into your bedroom and laid you down on the bed, moving back to deftly undo your laces, releasing your feet from the prison that was your heels, tossing them back into the living room. You were too drunk to care about propriety, just irritated by the tightness of your dress as you pulled at the zip, trying to get out of the bandage cage. Ghost’s fingers came up to assist, gently tugging the zip down until your body practically busted out of the damn thing. It was too tight, too irritating, so you had no problem letting Ghost gently tug the dress up over your head, leaving you just in your underwear and tights.

When you opened your eyes, having apparently closed them at some point, you saw Ghost crouched at the side of the bed, his hand resting on your thigh.

“You really are gorgeous, you know that?”

You looked down, seeing your own half-naked body, and then back at Ghost, a little bit of sobriety coming back into you. He tugged his jumper off over his head, then immediately pushed it over your head, not giving you much of a choice in being covered up again. You didn’t mind; the jumper was soft, and it smelled like him, and it was warm. It would have been easy to fall asleep like that, but you had other plans. You rolled onto your side so you could look at him, taking into account his bruised and battered face, the harsh features of his face a perfect contrast with the soft, loving way he was looking at you. He really was gorgeous, even if his face was a bit fucked up.

Your hand moved down to his, and you played with his fingers, “You coming to bed?”

“You inviting me?”

“Yes.”

There was a moment of silence, and you could see Ghost grappling with something. He brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his fingers stroking across your cheek and gently touching your lower lip before he backed up, getting to his feet. You frowned at him, “Where you going?”

Ghost answered you frankly.

“I’m going to have a wank in your bathroom.”

If you had been sober, you might have had more of a response to that, but you were drunk and tired, so you didn’t give it much thought, rolling over in the bed as he walked off, taking your bra off underneath the jumper and tossing it on the floor, then squirming under the covers.

Ghost returned a few minutes later, and you could hear the sound of him undressing, followed by the bed dipping as he got in beside you. His thighs were warm against the back of yours, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you close to his chest, his fingers tangling with yours as he cuddled into your back, pressing several soft kisses to your neck before he let his head fall on the pillow beside yours, joining you in peaceful slumber.

[otter-pop-supreme]

Hehehe I need to reread rrff but I’m also scared to reread it🧍cause i can only remember this, but i wanna draw other scenes. Preferable the ones that DONT make me wanna curl up on the ground and cry✨

They live in my head rent free, mainly cause I'm a lousy landlord and let them-

So heres a little fan doodle (I'm gonna hate it when I wake up) dark mode and light mode cause the colors look a lil brighter and mildly off design in dark mode. I did color select off the lil ref charts but color theory will color theory ig✨

[moonchild-in-blue]

Not to get mushy but. Have you thought about how lucky we all are for being here right now? Like, how many of us struggled so hard before, to the point of nearly giving up? And yet we're here??

What are the odds of a bunch of random weirdos all over the world happen to get into the same bands, and be active in a equally weird, supposedly "dead" social media, at the same time? And just happen to be "just" brave enough to talk to someone, and another one, and another one?

I mean really. Have you thought about it? This just doesn't really happen like that. There's so many of you I consider genuine friends. So many of us that have or will meet irl. Like??? Hello ??? This is crazy!! Genuinely bonkers!!! Idk man, I'm super in my feels and I appreciate tf out of you all.

I mean, wow. How lucky I am to be here right now and be your friend. Yall are so neat and cute and interesting and cool and precious, like WOW. I'm glad we made it so far guys. Let's be alive for a long time 🥹💙

[harpuiaa]

i've been dead and gone bc of school and jobsearching and everything happening all at once but ive been playing the boktai series games lately and i'm enjoying it a lot. I just got past the third boss in boktai 2. I don't know why but i'm enthralled with these games, i highly recommend them

[ninkaku]

referring to people with mental illnesses as like “healed” in later life is not something i fw because it just sounds like thinly veiled ableism and a very big disconnect to understanding how people with mental illnesses function and can function later in life even if they have a difficulty doing so in earlier stages of life (:

[pickled-flowers]

Saw some of the grossest parenting today in the bus

[bringslife]

so tired of seeing ppl (non rp fandom) complaining about the doctor crying whenever he’s in an emotionally traumatizing situation.

[baepsays]

BTW I AM A FREE MAN EXAMS ARE DONE WOOOOOOO I AM FREEEEEE

[scribe-cas]

i need to explode. Vent post

RAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH. FUCK. I MISS HIM SO MUCH.

I know and I fucking knew I wasn't going to find him, but my fucking God

How the fuck am I supposed to live like this

"Oh so I have a book character based off of an actual entity who haunted my brain for a little while in the form of alter possession because I had splits at one point and at any mention of him I go literally fucking shitballs insane and will do anything to see him again" like what the fuck is wrong with me /lh

I know I sound insane but that's. Insaner than shit.

Like wow I feel actually awful and freakish some days. I sometimes wonder if this is actually here or if it's just all in my head and some huge fucking coincidence. It seems like every time I get closer to figuring something out about him or anyone and anything associated with him, it's like I take 4 steps back.

And it's. Heartbreaking. I don't know how else certain things could even have possibly happened without his existence, but also am I somehow just making up all of this shit. Am I going to spend the rest of my life chasing after every redheaded transgender man I see only for my brain and my heart to be left. Empty. Because it's not him.

nobody's ever going to be him, and I doubt anyone would ever want to.

There's just a level of feeling abandoned that's never going to heal.

The only thing that helps is writing my books.

Seeing people connect to them. Seeing people connect to, and emulate, him.

That makes me feel less crazy. It makes me feel like maybe if it is all in my head and if nothing is actually real at least it was kind of worth it.

To quote bojack horseman, which i probably should not have watched:

"That means that all the damage I got isn't 'good damage'. It's just damage. I have gotten nothing out of it and all those years I was miserable was for nothing."

This is what's. Just circling my brain. If he's not real then yeah I kept myself alive but why did I love. What was the point of it all. There are other people who love me and it's wonderful but sometimes I miss his smile and as fucked as it is I wish that I'd run into someone who's even slightly like him.

Just so that i can stare at them and. Like. Remember.

Redheaded long haired trans men it's your time to shine im summoning you from across tumblr, come tell me you love me

Bonus points if you're folklore obsessed, dress like a flamboyant dance student, like heels and bartend /j obviously

But like. I can't explain it. It's devastating i miss my brother man 👍

Thanks tumblr for listening to my tedtalk

[sheepcreature]

AGH.

[ragingdumpsterfire]

.

[sirompp]

i looked at a 3-4 old drawing in comparison to the thing im drawing rn and got emotional