#matt / hc.

[mattsnight]

dad!chris headcannons ! ✧₊⁺

During the pregnancy ୨ৎ

Dad!Chris who is scared to be a dad at first, but ends up being an absolute god in parenting.

Dad!Chris who helps you with everything. Dishes need to be unloaded? He’ll do it. Clothes need to be folded? He’ll do it.

Dad!Chris who drives to the supermarket at 1 am just to get you food that makes your cravings go away.

Dad!Chris who rubs your feet whenever they get sore.

Dad!Chris who is overly excited about the birth, but also doesn’t know what to do.

Dad!Chris who panics when your water breaks.

“Your water broke? What do we do? Oh my god”

Dad!Chris who doesn’t leave your side as you give birth to your daughter.

Dad!Chris who cries when your daughter is finally born.

“Baby, are you okay?” You ask Chris, noticing his emotional state. “Yeah all good.. she’s beautiful.”

The first few months of parenting ୨ৎ

Dad!Chris who did the hot dad walk when walking out of the hospital.

Dad!Chris who takes care of the baby at night, because he knows how tired you are.

Dad!Chris who does the airplane move when feeding your baby.

“Anddd… there comes the airplane!” Chris says. Your daughter excitedly opens her mouth and throws her arms into the air.

Dad!Chris who does NOT show his daughter’s face on the internet.

Dad!Chris who doesn’t shut up when he’s talking about his daughter to his friends/family.

Dad!Chris who overshops baby clothes just because “they’re cute”.

Dad!Chris who loves to spoil your daughter.

Dad!Chris who cries again when your daughter turns 1.

“Why does she grow up so fast?” Chris says as tears fall down his face. He loved seeing your baby girl get older, but it also was a little sad.

[liiixsturniolos]

Singer!reader x rapper!chris hc

more here

rapper!chris ... can't keep his hands off of you anywhere you are. At awards shows, at home anywhere, he will be grabbing your waist or your ass definitely.

rapper!chris ... records your moans and adds them into the background of his songs. Fans eventually hear the faint ad-lib noises..

rapper!chris ... loves when you wear his clothes, he'll beg to swap underwear for the day which you find hilarious, and he'll give you his shirts to sleep in.

rapper!chris ... pretend punches your ass as a joke- when you're led on your stomach on his bed, he'll creep up behind you and slap and punch your ass gently.

rapper!chris ... plays your songs while you have sex, he thinks it's so funny to fuck you while your voice sings in the back.

rapper!chris ... puts you on his album cover, a photo he took of you in a flower garden, which surprises you as you'd have assumed he would've picked a less innocent, cute photo of you.

rapper!chris ... keeps you in the studio whenever he can, you'll sit on his lap while he raps into the mic and you help make beats for him, sometimes singing on his songs too.

rapper!chris ... asks you for your autograph as a joke, and makes you sign it on his arm, which eventually he'll have tattooed on him.

hpe you liked this! comments, likes, follows, re-blogs, any interaction is appreciated!!! Ily!

taglist: @matthewsroses @bull3t-f0r-my-v4l3nt1n3 @chrislilcumslvt @pvssychicken @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @sturniolo-fann @matts-myloverboy @emely9274 @sophand4n4 @uncannyguava @st6niolo @madifilipowiczslvt

[saintofsacrilege]

aftg headcanons that are so real to me i forget they aren’t canon:

black dan and matt

korean american renee

ethnically ambiguous kevin

katelyn looking a lot like neil (red hair, blue eyes, facial structure, etc)

andrew has an eyebrow piercing

andrew paints his nails black

lactose intolerant twinyards

twinyards both have curtain bangs

neil purposefully mispronouncing french words to annoy kevin

neil randomly speaking to nicky in spanish and nicky going: “huh? 😃” (he has no idea what neil just said)

seth’s hairline being a literal straight line

renee having massive angel wings tattooed on her back

renee giving andrew a black cross for his birthday and him wearing it every single day in an alt, edgy way (it matches her silver one perfectly. yes they have best friend necklaces i decree it)

allison helping renee dye the ends of her hair and renee helping allison touch up her roots

allison and andrew developing a frenemies kinda thing

doll and her twink dynamics abounding (renee and andrew, allison and neil, allison and nicky)

allison and nicky becoming besties

dan wearing orange the most often out of all the foxes… until neil comes along. then they compete

neil and andrew constantly wearing each other’s jersey

nicky giggling whenever he sees kevin’s tattoo (his internal dialogue: yas queen skinny legend versace boots the house down slay queen hungry mama and oop daddy work charli xcx snatch my wig)

biromantic aspec kevin

queer renee

demiromantic andrew

[socgf]

they hate when you serve big brown doe eyes dark hair flirty pout and chiseled cheeks

[dustisus]

so many of my aftg headcanons are truly inconsequential to the plot or are such minor details from a character’s life it would hardly get mentioned even in a biography about them. here’s some of my least important (but favorite) headcanons:

-while none of the foxes don’t get along with Erik, he and Kevin get along surprisingly well. Erik is interested in history, and in learning more about exy

-when the girls graduate, Matt starts to hang out more with the monsters & Neil. he doesn’t come to Eden’s with them but sticks to them around practice, mostly. during this time he becomes interested in Andrew’s workout routine, in a “damn bro what do you bench?” sort of way

-after graduating, Nicky reaches out to the high school teacher who suggested studying abroad to thank them

pleaseee add similar small headcanons in the notes!! i’m so interested

[hmmm-shesucks]

The night before Andrew’s first pro game, he receives a box from a company he is intimately familiar with. Pretty pink calligraphy branding the pristine white box with Allison’s fashion logo. It’s a rather large box, and Andrew is expecting the worst, like bright pink pompoms, but when he opens it, there are several neatly folded piles of silky material—armbands.

The first pair in each bundle is a simple black, but as he goes through them, he finds the colors changing, colors matching his new uniforms, colors Andrew would never usually wear but was informed he’d have to during specific months of the year.

At the bottom of the box lay three pairs with a note labeling them “custom.” The first pair was all black, except for a small dagger on the insides of both wrists. The second set is similar in color, except when they catch the light, subtle color shines through. A stupid rainbow. The last set Andrew knows Neil must have had something to do with as they are bright orange and white, tiny little fox paws on the insides of both wrist.

There are two of each pair, thirty pairs total. At the bottom of the box is a note branded with Allison’s logo but also a tiny kangaroo, one that is also branded just above the elbow on every sleeve.

“First look at the new sports line. I call this one Rew.”

Andrew hates her, but he plays his first game, ensuring Allison’s logo is always visible.

[bookworms-lair]

Neil: i’m sorry for messing everything up.

Neil: i guess i’m just not cut out for the high-stakes world of having friends.

Matt:

Matt: i just wanted to know if you did the dishes-

[speciouspessimism]

hc that once he feels comfortable, neil’s favorite thing is wearing (stealing) his friends’ (the foxes’) clothes. it’s like a physical anchor for him? something undeniable that says “i am loved, i am cared for, i am trusted” and most importantly “i must return”.

- he and andrew basically share clothes…. when it comes to clothing they forget who’s is who’s and accidentally wear each others’ jerseys

- matt’s mom is sentimental and has a lot of matt’s old clothes, and eventually matt brings neil home over a break and lets him thrift in his childhood wardrobe

- nicky gives him old t-shirts from bands he doesn’t listen to anymore and neil wears them as pjs

- kevin is a stylish bisexual in his early twenties so he has looots of nice jewelry of which neil picks a piece or two of to sneak every week, and Kevin lets him under the pretense of teaching neil to dress better

- renee notices that neil has no proper comfortable clothes and will always offer for him to take her sweatpants (they’re… kinda long) “for the night” but they both know she does not expect them back for a few days

- dan and neil have the same shoe size… enough said

- allison will wear a great sweater and later neil will come by to hang out in just a t-shirt and jeans… and then oh nooo he’s sooo cold…. shiver shiver complain… nooo it’s fine..oh my goood are you sure….thank you soooo much allison thank you…. (they do this dance often and no one understands why allison lets him)

- even aaron once gets sweatpants just a couple inches too long and one day neil just finds them on his desk in the dorm, flung over a pile of notes and messing up his study space, but warm and brand new

- not clothes but when neil completes his first full year with the foxes, like to the day, on the calendar one year since he came to south carolina, wymack gives neil the blanket he used when sleeping on the couch in his apartment last summer

all of this makes neil feel safer than he would admit, but they all notice and play this game. if he’s wearing dan’s sneakers… well, he can’t run away with those on, it would just be inconsiderate

[ryemackerel]

UPDATED EDDSWORLD REFS WOOPEE!!!: The November 2024 Edition!

Close-Ups!

And some old refs!

I love a very cool poly relationship. Finally featuring Ringo because she deserves the entire world. 🫶 ALSO featuring my very old ancient Eddsworld fanart from since 2017.

I wrote a crap ton of stuff without realizing how small they were so I tried my best to give some good close-ups LMAOO

What I especially really like about this new version is how different they are from each other. I love making each of the characters super unique and show *more* of their personalities more. I also tried practicing some different body types, and I love how they turned out.

I’m happy to see how far they’ve grown design-wise and personality-wise since March, especially through roleplays and art! I feel like since then I’ve gained a better understanding of them as cool characters that live in their own cool world.

I wonder how much they’ll change in my future artwork? It’s kind of crazy to see the amount of difference that 8 months can make, but besides that UAGAHH I love gay poeple. Hope you enjoy!

[sweetshuga]

𝑹𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒆.ᐟ𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 ✧ 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒆.ᐟ𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔. «𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆»

𝒘𝒄. 𝟧𝟤𝟣

𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. English is not my first language!

𝑺𝑭𝑾✿

✧ 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒆.ᐟ𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔... who doesn’t mind running errands for you, no matter how big or small. You want a bottle of water? No problem. Need sweets to help your cravings during your period? No fucking problem at all.

✎ "No, just sit there, I’ll get ’em for you alright?" He’d smile softly at you before playfully ruffling your hair when you protest that you can do it yourself, "it’s alright, I’ll do it, i’d do anything for you."

✧ 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒆.ᐟ𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔... who keeps you at arms length when you’re out together, wanting to be close to you and would even make an excuse just to hold your hand in his.

✎ "Ma, stay close to me alright? Don’t need ya gettin’ lost or sum’, just hold onto my hand." He’d say as he extends his hand – palm up – to you. Biting the inside of his cheek not to grin like a fool when you intertwine your fingers together.

✧ 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒆.ᐟ𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔... who lets you cuddle on his lap as he types in his assignment, occasionally nuzzling his face in your neck to breathe in your scent and relax before continuing his school work, and repeating it all over again.

✎ "Mm, you smell so good, just need you right here until I finish this and we can cuddle on the bed afterwards, yeah?" He’d murmur as the keyboards tapped rhythmically, chuckling when you nodded your head and thinking about how cute you looked sitting there all curled up in his lap.

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾⚠

✧ 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒆.ᐟ𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔... loves it when you try to stay quiet when you’re fucking in the dorm, but inevitably fails to do so because he’d be purposely hitting all the spots that makes you moan the loudest.

✎ "Yeah, fuck, just like that— scream f’me, ma, let ’em hear how good I’m fuckin’ ya." He’d rasp as he pounds into your trembling figure from behind, one hand pushing your head further into his pillow while the other holds your wrists on the small of your back.

✧ 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒆.ᐟ𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔... is incredibly needy for your touch—even in public. He would be asking— begging until you’re finally on your knees in a random public bathroom stall.

✎ "That’s right ma, just like that... mffh—fuckin’ take it all, yeah?" He’d groan as you deep throat him, taking all of him before drawing back and doing it all over again. His hands find their way to your hair and hold your head in place before starting to face-fuck you. Feeling the coils tighten in his abdomen from the way you look up at him through your lashes, all teary eyed, but letting him do whatever he wants with you.

✧ 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒆.ᐟ𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔... loves how good you take his dick, how your body seems to suck him in – how insatiable you are for him.

✎ "Oh fu—ck, look at you baby, look at how you’re suckin’ me in... Your pussy loves my big dick, doesn’t it?" He’d chuckle breathlessly, playfully taunting the way you go putty in his hands – all while ramming himself into you over and over again, relishing in your desperate little moans and gasps as he takes you hard and fast.

𓆩♡𓆪

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: @emely9274 @chrisfavoritewhore @larallott @thebigbadwolfahoooo @strnlslut @knowingnothingnoel @slvtf0rchr1s @sturnioloszn @sofiaaguilaxx @sophand4n4 @mattsfavoritestar @strnilolover @diasturnsth @brookheartsmatt @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @crazychick21 @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @sagesturns @chrisstopherfilmed @splashhsworld @billiesbabya @h3arts4nat @moosegirl96 @urfavallyyy @mattsninja @bilssturns @shadowthesim @ivysturnss @peiivnao @sturniolokaulitz @megluvrr @marrykisskilled @sturniolo-fann @goingtojohnkramershouseee @sturniolosluttt @chrislilcumslvt @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @m00nl1ghts1vt @ribread03 @hearts4werka @whore4mattsturniolo @stvrnzwrld @mattslovergirlie

© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒔𝒉𝒖𝒈𝒂

[mattsnight]

⟡ ݁₊ . Shy bf!matt headcannons⊹ ࣪ ˖

Shy bf!matt who loves being near you and only you.

“s’too much people..” he murmurs as he stands next to you, holding your hand. “yeah? let’s go home, baby.”

Shy bf!matt who is sweet, but also very moody whenever he wakes up.

Shy bf!matt who finds lots of comfort in playing fornite

Shy bf!matt who is very silly whenever he’s around you.

Shy bf!matt who took 3 months to finally kiss you.

“I have to tell you something..” Matt says as he anxiously plays with his fingers. Before you can say anything he slams his lips against yours. You return the kiss almost immediately. It was the kiss you’ve longed for forever. Then his hands move to your waist, gently pulling you closer as the kiss grows more passionate.

Shy bf!matt who is actually the biggest romantic.

Shy bf!matt who is so good with kids. He loves to meet little babies from family members.

Shy bf!matt who loves cuddling with you and then falling asleep in the process.

Shy bf!matt who keeps saying “i love you”

Shy bf!matt who can listen to you talking for hours.

Shy bf!matt who is the only one who truly understand you.

Shy bf!matt who is overprotective and overcaring, but you love it.

Shy bf!matt who hates to be away from you, even for the shortest amount of time.

“I missed you.”

“Matt you saw me yesterday.”

‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆ ˚｡⋆˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ‧���˚ ⋅ ⋆ ˚｡⋆˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆ ˚｡⋆˚ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆ ˚｡

I love shy matt so much ≽^•༚• ྀི≼

Also this is my first no nut november post!

[liiixsturniolos]

could u do rapper!chris x singer!reader headcanons or a fic? I feel like there isnt enough of this

୨୧ rapper!chris x singer!reader ୨୧

headcannons!

chris will always make sure you're okay before you go out on stage

"you good ma?" he questions, rubbing his hand on your shoulder.

"yes." you smile.

chris will write songs about you often, and people go crazy for them.

chris puts his hands over paparazzi cameras when they overwhelm you

"shes done with the photos dude" he says, shoving his palm over the clicking camera lens.

chris LOVES pda, he adores wrapping his arm around you in public and lets paparazzi take a few photos of you guys.

chris loves to have you on his songs, and you let him rap on some of yours too.

chris loves your voice, he talks about how pretty it is all the time.

"sing me to sleep ma? i wanna here your pretty voice baby." he mutters

"of course." you smile, starting to play with his soft brown hair, while you gently sing to him.

chris loves when you match/coordinate outfits at shows, award shows etc.

"You wear your pretty pink dress, and I'll wear my pink hat, kay ma?" He smiles excitedly

I may do more of these! ♡ please interact if you like this. ty for reading |||| taglist : @matthewsroses @chrislilcumslvt @pvssychicken @ivysturnss @mattsbitchh @matts-myloverboy @sturniolofannn @1-d0nt-w4nn4-b3-m3-4nym0r3

[little2nerdy]

i feel like the foxes like to keep track of their stats in the weight room (it’s v common at least where i am)

i feel like andrew constantly tries to beat the bench record, it oscillates between him and matt for team record

andrew has also been close to beating the clean record before (goalie arms ftw 🙌)

neil holds the school record for the 40 yard dash (the track coach curses wymack’s name all the time, how dare the exy team have the fastest kid at the school)

allison once beat the women’s squat record by accident (that girl has legs for days)

kevin has never beat a record because he thinks that focusing on one exercise too much will affect his specific training plan and leave him out of balance

[socgf]

hc that dally gets so pissed when someone makes fun of his nyc accent or even points it out, but then it gets even stronger when he's mad. like 'whudduya tawkin bout i don't have an ack sent man". the gang's laughing at him and he's like "what's fawkin funny???🤬"

[chiacanwritesometimes]

everybody adores you, at least i do.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

based on “everybody adores you (quiet)” by matt maltese :)

ship: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 3.9k

authors note: i wrote this after listening to ^^^ on repeat, god i love matt maltese. there are scenes of alcohol intake, a panic attack and brief self harm. please dni if these topics bother, trigger, or make you uncomfortable. this was a pretty long drabble, hope you enjoy :D

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

you can act all shy, but you know that i want you.

you aren’t one for flattery, that much was obvious. every time bucky took the time to compliment you, he knew what your next words would be. like clockwork, you would turn red, look away, and sheepishly mutter, “thanks”. you fiddled with your hands, and quickly changed the subject. how desperately he wanted to hold your hands, and kiss them. for years, he pined over you, and you’ve always been almost at his grasp. these past couple of weeks though, it seemed to hit you, that he wanted you.

in the dead of night, i want to live with you.

it all started three years ago, after everyone came back from the blip. people were everywhere, and it seemed that all the noise that lacked from the world came back in an instant. after realizing what happened to you, your environment and your home, you couldn’t help but laugh. how comical, that it seemed like nothing changed. your family hadn’t contacted you, well, the distant family that you still had. you walked to a bar in the hazy hours of the night, and met him. some guys were bothering him about his glove, but he seemed unaffected. he just stared ahead, and drank his whiskey. you devised a plan, to distract the assholes and to maybe introduce yourself. you didn’t want to seem like you were trying to pick him up, but you were trying to make friends in this new world. you asked the bartender quietly to escort the two loud drunks out, and sat down next to him. you didn’t think you’d get this far, so you were at a loss on what to say. did people still talked the same five years later? of course they did, but how do you navigate yourself into talking? your thoughts piled up, and they kept piling up, until his gruff voice interrupted them.

“thanks.” he grumbled quietly.

“hm?” you didn’t catch what he said, as you were too distracted. he cleared his throat.

“i said thanks. for the, yeah.” he pointed to the two men outside. he wasn’t much for words, you realized. you sighed in relief and nodded.

“yeah, dont sweat it.”

he offered to walk you home, as a sign of gratitude. it amused you both that you lived in the same building. small world. you invited him inside, but he hesitated.

“we can take a rain check, if you’d like. ill write you my number.” you assured him, and walked inside to grab a post it. what were you doing? giving a stranger your number? you put those thoughts to rest as you wrote your number.

he awkwardly waited at the half open door. he was glad to have made a…friend? he didn’t know what to call you yet, but he was sure to catalogue you at the back of his mind to let his witch of a therapist know. over the next couple of weeks, you had began to know him better. he had a cat, alpine. he had a past that he wasn’t open to sharing. his apartment was empty, almost ready to be left without a tenant at any moment. he froze at your touch, so you made a mental note to not do that. what a strange person. you knew he disappeared during the blip as well, but you felt as if he had lost more than five years.

so terrified of the road that takes you, me too.

a year had passed for your friendship. you came to his apartment, unexpected, and brought two little cupcakes with candles on them.

“what’s this?” he asked, a little embarrassed to be touched by such a small little gesture.

“its our friendship anniversary, goofy.”

“do we sing happy birthday, or what?” you paused. you weren’t sure, you didn’t really think of singing.

“um, we can have toasts if you’d prefer that. yes, toasts! ill get the glasses.” you sprung to your feet and gracefully navigated yourself in his small kitchen. you had spruced up his place a little, buying him hand towels, candles, and little trinkets that make a house a home, or rather, an apartment into a cozier place to live. you brought the two flutes, and filled them with champagne. he frowned.

“that is definitely not mine.”

“i brought it to celebrate, we need something fancy.” he rolled his eyes, but went along to your little celebration. he sat on his couch and observed you placing the cupcakes on the coffee table, and as you passed him his glass.

“ill go first. um…” you didn’t want to admit that you had started liking him, so you decided to say general statements.

“i hadn’t had a friend since, high school? maybe…so thank you for letting me be yours. err, friend, that is. to many more.” you clinked your glass with his, and motioned for him to go next.

“my last friend died a year ago. you haven’t died yet, so cheers to that.” he said dryly, with a little smile on his face. he thought he was so funny. he clinked his glass with yours, and drank the liquid. you rolled your eyes and mirrored him.

you started watching a movie with him, but you weren’t really paying attention. he started to accept your touch more and more, and you watched the movie with your head leaning on his shoulder. he leaned his head on yours, and tried his best to not move, so as to not bother you. the second act of the movie was commencing, and he had something on his mind. he had to fess up eventually about who he is- who he was, that is. someone he no longer was, someone he despised so vehemently.

“doll?” he tested the waters. he started calling you that, a reminder of how much of a casanova he was when he was in high school. you protested but eventually let him continue calling you that, as it was more effort telling him to stop than you cared to give.

“mm?” you hummed softly, half asleep.

“i wasn’t joking about my toast.”

“i didn’t think you were. you don’t have to talk about it if you don-“

“i want to talk about it.”

you paused. this was rare. you didn’t know what to think, so you gave him the space to talk.

“there’s a reason i’m always wearing this glove, you know.”

“yeah, circulation problems.” you joked, but he didn’t laugh.

“doll, i was born in 1917.”

“…” you sat up. “what? james, you’re not being funny right now.”

he continued tentatively.

“my name is james buchanan barnes and i was born in march 10, 1917.” he recited as if giving a memorized speech, his monotone words hitting you, syllable by syllable.

“i was forced to be the winter soldier, and i was framed for the U.N bombing.” your facial expression must’ve hinted that you put the pieces together, and he stopped.

“and, yeah. i have a metal arm.” he added almost rushed, he wanted to explain that part as well. he gave you space to fully digest everything.

“so…your friend that died was…” he nodded.

“steve rogers.” he finished for you.

“wow.” you didn’t know what to say, you just sat there. everything made so much sense now, why he always wore a glove, why he never had any pictures of friends or family, nothing. suddenly, you smiled.

“doll?” he looked confused. your best friend admitted to lying about his identity to your face for a year, and you’re…smiling?

“the first friend i made in ten years is someone who’s older than me by eighty years.” you giggled.

“i don’t- you’re not mad?” his brain short circuited. you’re not responding the way he thought you would’ve. you shook your head.

“i mean, what kind of friend am i for you not to be able to trust me with that? yeah, im a little blindsided, but i understand. i still see you as my friend.”

he didn’t know what to do. tears threatened to fall.

“pay attention to this part, its my favorite.” you leaned back to your original position, as if nothing happened. you offered your hand, and he took it.

don't modify, every one adores you, at least i do.

“dont look at me like that.” you said, a little tipsy. you had been friends with him for two years now, and you had invited him over to your apartment, for new year’s. you both didn’t really have any plans, or friends, for that matter. of course, he had sam, but sam was with his sister for the new year. he had barged into your apartment with a six case of beer on him, and two little paper hats saying, “happy new year!”. how adorable. you weren’t dressed up, gracing yourself with an oversized shirt and a pair of shorts. you sat on the couch with your legs on his lap, his flesh hand holding his beer and his metal hand holding you. he traced small circles on your calves, which felt really intimate. you’re grateful he used his metal hand, because you weren’t sure what you would’ve done if he used his skin to tease you so.

“like what?” he asked. his tone was quiet, his eyes searching for permission in yours. permission for what?

“like you want to kiss me.”

“and what if i do?” there it was. you didn’t want to ruin any friendship you still had left after he threw that bombshell. you paused and looked away. you took another sip of your beer.

“i’m afraid i’ll have to decline your advances.” you quietly said. its not that you didn’t love him, but it all felt so wrong. the only reason he wanted to kiss you was because it was the new year, and that stupid fucking tradition.

“you know i could get lost in those eyes. i’d trip over my words trying to find my way back.” he admitted. he really did love you. god, he loved you.

“if you keep looking at me like that, i might think that you have a crush on me.” you teased, face red. from the intimacy or from the alcohol? you weren’t sure, maybe it was both.

“and what if i did?”

“bucky…” you sighed. you sat up and moved your legs away from him.

“i mean it. would that be such a crime?” he leaned his body towards you. you noticed that his cheeks had their own hue of red, and his eyes felt unsure.

“bucky.” you cut him off. you didn’t know what to say. its not like you could say, “i dont want you to kiss me for new year’s, because i want you to kiss me for real.” you didn’t know what to say, so you just shook your head slightly. he nodded, stood up, and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“i understand.” he whispered into your ear. you bit your lip, this was the friendliest he had ever been towards you, and you only wished for more. he smiled softly and said,

“happy new year, y/n.”

right where the black wood sighs, i look at you, through and through.

your birthday was coming up, and he decided to surprise you. he researched thoroughly about forests located next to you, and found the one. things had been a little rough post new year’s eve, but your connection through knowing who he was kept the friendship close. you soon were back to your old self, but remained a bit guarded.

your birthday was today. you hadn’t received any messages from him, so you felt a bit let down. you sighed throughout the day as you kept checking. suddenly, around 2 in the afternoon, he knocked on your door with a basket in hand, and flowers in the other.

“happy birthday, doll.”

it’s safe to say that you spent the rest of your day very content, and impressed at the picnic he had organized.

right where your father died I'll hold on to your hand.

you don’t remember much from your father, other than the fact that he died early in your youth. you detested seeing children with both their parents with them, even as an adult. you felt jealous, angry at your father for dying. you knew it wasn’t your fault, but still. you occasionally visited his grave, and the place where he passed on. it was a rainy day, the day he went with you. you asked him to go, as you weren’t feeling so well. he obliged.

the downpour matched the dreary mood, and as you stood near the bench he died on, a bench he felt was familiar. he started to panic, thinking that somehow he was the one responsible for the death of your father, wondering if you taking him here was some sort of ploy to avenge your father.

“he got caught in the crossfire of a crime.” you admitted. “police were chasing this guy, and he meant to shoot the…” you trailed off. he knew what you were trying to say and he nodded. he sighed, partly from the mood and partly from relief that he wasn’t the one that took him from you. you took his hand and held it. he squeezed your hand, and rubbed circles on your knuckles.

“thank you.” what an odd thing for him to say to you, but you knew that he meant for taking him to a place so sacred to you.

“now we’re even.” you smiled at him. no more secrets about the past.

so terrified of the road that takes you, me too.

panic attacks didn’t hit him often. it was around two weeks since his last one, and it wasn’t something he wasn’t thinking of at the time, until now.

he spent so much time at your place, so much in fact, that some of his mail correspondence was sent to your place by the mailman. how silly. he was over for some random dinner, and conversed with you as you cooked. you were making spicy chicken alfredo, or something along those lines. he didn’t really pay attention, he only focused on you. he noticed how fluid you were in the kitchen, as if you were dancing. when he thought you were going to run into a cabinet, you moved away just in time. wether that be for your reflexes or by chance, he wasn’t sure. he had shared with you a couple vinyls, a way of sharing his past with you. he hummed along to the smooth voice of ella fitzgerald, until you interrupted the noise with a yelp of pain. he turned to you, and noticed you had cut your finger with the knife, which confirmed to him that in fact, the reason you didn’t run into cabinets was by chance, maybe some guardian angel working overtime. he kissed your finger, and walked to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. everything was going so well, too. its just a small setback. until, he came back.

you looked to be covered in blood everywhere, with a heavy concentration on your torso. there was a gunshot in your stomach area, and you hunched over the cabinet for support. at least, that is what he saw. in reality, you leaned on the cabinet, waiting for him. his heart dropped and his eyes scanned you so worriedly. he ran to you, inspected your arms, your eyes, your neck, your stomach. your confused expression felt almost like daggers at him, and he started hyperventilating. he felt hands all around him, suffocating him. he knelt to the ground, gasping for air. his hair started clinging to his forehead, his clothes suddenly felt too tight, the air felt too hot, his metal arm too familiar. did he do this? he kept thinking. he heard a voice, his voice, but different. it was him.

“of course you did this.” he said, full of poison. tears fell down his eyes, and they kept falling, even when he shut them so tightly. he clawed at his metal arm, at his reminder of who he was.

you tried your best to make him realize that you were there, and in fact, not dead. no matter your volume, he couldn’t hear you. he was rocking back and forth, and you kneeled to his eyeline.

“bucky?” you kept saying. you kept repeating, kept trying to open his eyes, move his hand from hurting his shoulder. soon, your hands were stained with the blood drawn from where metal met skin. you sat with him, and listened to his cries. you didn’t know what to do, he hadn’t discussed panic attacks with you, so you weren’t sure if you could hold him or not. you decided to take a risk and rub his back, and lean your head on top of his. a few minutes were spent like that, his quiet sobs filling the apartment. eventually, he calmed down enough to the point of hugging you, and whispered “i’m sorry”. that’s all he said, and he kept saying it. his face was nuzzled into your neck, and he kept saying that. your hands held him tightly, your own tears falling as well. he stopped hurting himself, but seeing him in this state broke your heart. you knew why seeing you bleeding affected him so badly. he didn’t often tell you of all the people he killed, but when he did, he was always filled with immense grief. you’d always remind him that it wasn’t really him, and that he didn’t have body autonomy. those words, although comforting, felt like a lie. he was scared you believed differently, thought of him differently. your words and your touch remained the same, though. after his panic subsided, you led him to the sink, and washed his hands. you cleaned his wounds, and wrapped them with gauze. you asked him to stay at your place, and he accepted. you set his bed, and gave him some spare clothing you had. he sat down next to you, and watched you lay down, before looking at you. his blue eyes looked into yours, asking for permission. you held your arms up, and he instantly moved. he laid on top of you, almost tentatively. you ran your fingers through his hair, and he adjusted himself on top of you, holding your waist. no words were exchanged.

you two never spoke of that moment.

don’t modify, every one adores you, at least i do.

three years had passed since you first crossed paths, and he wanted to be the one to initiate the celebration. he didn’t know how surprise you, you two had already done a lot of things. picnics, dinners, sleepovers. he realized he needed to buy a gift. what should he get you? you already had enough jewelry, you always went thrift shopping with him, and you seemed pretty content with everything you had. it clicked in his mind. he got you a photo album for your pictures, and a star projector, showing how the stars looked like on the day you first met. he felt nervous, he hadn’t felt this close to someone in a while, and he was scared to ruin it.

you spent the anniversary gushing over your gift, and kept complimenting him throughout that night. his fears for being a bad friend were eased.

everybody has you up on their wall sometimes.

he wasn’t one for photography. his walls were bare, aside from the decorations you bought for him. you, however, loved your polaroid camera. you took pictures of anything you deemed important, like meeting someone with a similar outfit to yours, a cat you saw on the street, and him. you deemed him important, and he had to pretend like that wasn’t the biggest compliment ever. he had to pretend that every time you snapped a picture of him, he wasn’t blushing so hard, and how he loved being your muse. he started putting more effort into his appearance, so you would take more pictures. you noticed, of course you noticed. you had to keep a solid stream of film. one day, he held your camera. he often wondered how you saw the world, and seeing the little window in the polaroid camera made him smile. you were comically posing in the couch, giggling with every new pose. he clicked away, happily. he then sheepishly asked for a serious picture, for his new collection. well, your picture would be the first in the collection. how fitting, that you would be the one to star in the little joy you shared with him. your face flushed a bit as you sat up and smiled softly at him. he swallowed his nervousness, and took the picture. as he let it develop, he walked away, leaning on the wall. he didn’t want to let you see how red he was. you didn’t know if you were friends or not. of course, you were friends, but you weren’t sure if you were more. you walked to where he was, took the picture from him and placed it on a side table. you grabbed the camera from his hand, and tossed it lightly to your couch. you looked at his lips, his eyes, his scars. you lifted your hand and traced his eyebrows, his nose, his chin, his jawline. his eyes fluttered shut, as he grabbed your hand and kissed it. he pulled you closer, as if you were the air he so desperately needed to breathe, as if you were the water in the middle of the desert. he held you so gently, leaning you against the wall. he leaned his lips towards yours, but didn’t press forward. he just breathed deeply, breathing you in. you looked up at him.

“bucky?” you asked softly, as to not shatter the moment.

“please. you’re all i have ever wanted these three years. i’ve been…you’re…” he couldn’t find the words. he grew a little frustrated at his lack of ways to express himself.

“i love you. from the minute i knew you, from new year’s, every birthday, every anniversary. please, y/n. i need you, like i need air, like i need water, like i need…you.” his eyes looked into yours, waiting for a response in the almost deafening silence.

you leaned forward, kissed him, and were made his that night.

everybody thinks of you when they sleep at night.

he liked waking up next to you. he liked the way your hair ruffled up because of the pillow. he loved the way your eyelashes fluttered when you opened your eyes, and your sleepy smile greeted him.

“good morning, bucky.” you would say.

“dreams?” he’d reply. if you had any dreams, you’d go on in detail about them, and if not, you’d shrug and say,

“my subconscious took the night off.”

he’d tuck your hair behind your ear, and kiss you. how wonderful, that he was able to kiss you, show you how much you meant to him, make you his. how serendipitous, that the first words he ever said to you were “thank you.” fate knew. you knew.

when I say, "everybody", i'm actually referring to mе.

[feelingthedisaster]

random aftg headcanons

dan gets a video camara and starts filming the foxes. years later, she founds all the tapes and makes a compilation

matt gives the freshman a brooklyn 99 style introduction of everyone

kevin chews gum, like, a lot. gum 24/7. its either mint or watermelon flavoured

the foxes give wymack a "n1 coach" mug for father's day one year. he pretends he is annoyed but he uses it everyday

jean likes to draw

kevin starts getting grey hairs at like 28 (wymack's genes)

renee knows how to tatto and she is actually pretty good, but doesnt do them often.

+she gave allison a butterfly tattoo on her shoulder

later in life, aaron gets a lot of people asking him for autographs thinking he is andrew. he just says "sorry, wrong twin" except when it's a little kid asking, only then he pretends he is andrew, he even learnt his signature

cat goes full gay panic when laila calls her catalina or cata, laila knows it so she does it on purpose

even though kevin prefers and mostly plays left-handed, sometimes he will just switch hands mid-games. like, "you thought you could mark me? sorry pal" and changes hands. it drives his opponements insane. they get used to him playing right-handed, he just switches back to his left. every defense player and coach hates him for that.

king mirrors andrew and sir mirrors neil

andrew and king have staring contents. king sits in the kitchen counter and andrew has to cook but doesnt want to move her so they stare at each other for entire minutes in complete silence. (king loses and leaves on her own to the couch). this happens more often than one would think

the cats LOVE neil's lap, specially sir. neil cant sit without getting a cat on his lap almost inmediately

pt2