#not just physically like. yeah that too obviously he spent years getting to know what she liked

[nejackdaw]

Okay so did I ever write the Celann and Charlotte lore post. No. I didn't even finish the UESP deep dive. However. I am very thinking about Celann and the way he worships Charlotte

[alexthebordercollie]

Ford's autism

K so I don't think I need to defend the interpretation Ford is on the spectrum. People make jokes about him being autistic all the time. We all see it. What I want to do here is sort of connect together some character details and examine them through the lense of my own autistic experiences.

I wanna start with his hands. It's an observation I've seen from multiple people that Ford is insecure about his hands and often hides them behind his back or in his pockets. And yeah, he is obviously insecure about them. He even mentions his six fingers at times when they aren't really relevant to anything. It just showcases the space this physical deviation of his takes up in his mind. And yes, it makes sense that he's insecure about them because he was bullied for them growing up. I want to add to this observation.

Ford would have been bullied regardless.

The problem was never really his hands. When you're on the spectrum people around you can tell that you're weird. Uncanny. Something is different and feels wrong about you to NT people, especially kids. They will pick any shallow superficial thing they can find as an excuse to bully you and justify the sense of revulsion they feel around you but can't articulate. If Ford had been born with normal hands they just would have made fun of him for something else, it would have been his glasses, or the movies he liked, or hell maybe some good old-fashioned antisemitism. Literally, any excuse they could find.

I know growing up I tried for years to change the things about me that I was made fun of for and it never made things any better. The bullying never stopped. "Fixing" things about myself didn't work because the thing that was actually "broken" was something fundamental to who I am. That realization as a kid was soul-crushing. That there was nothing I could do that would ever make me "normal", that would ever make people like me. I felt like an alien born on the wrong planet.

Ford continues to latch onto his hands as a sore spot because they're something simple and obvious he can point to as an excuse for why he's so outcast. He probably knows by this point that the hands aren't actually the problem. I'd argue this journal entry and his comment about "another failed social interaction" shows that he's aware his hands aren't actually the problem. But, it is a lot easier to fixate on those than to dwell directly on that sinking feeling that at the core of you're being you are fundamentally weird, wrong, unlovable. Ford's a genius. If his polydactyly bothered him that much he could have removed the extra digits. The hands aren't the problem, they're a symbol of a more fundamental kind of pain.

Looking at it through this context also makes the gloves Fiddleford gives him an extra sweet gift given what they represent. A kind of wholehearted acceptance of who Ford is and even a willingness to adapt to his unique needs just to show him love and affection. I think something that hurts me so much about their relationship is that Ford had someone who very clearly loved him as is and would have never wanted him to be someone or something else, and Ford was too stubborn to fully appreciate that.

The same is true of Stanely by the by. He never had a problem with his brother being weird. Another relationship with someone who loved Ford as is but who Ford took for granted. He needs these kinds of relationships in his life. People who embrace and accept him for the weirdo he is. He needs them desperately, which gets me to my next point.

Ford's ego. So it's also a common observation that Ford has a massive ego. He's kind of an ass, to put it mildly. But I have had someone in conversation frame it like the pressure to prove themselves was just on Stanley and Ford just spent his whole life being hyped up and told he was hot shit. This isn't true, or at least it's a flattening of his experiences.

Ford was praised for his genius. This is true. But his own father only gave a shit when said genius showed signs of netting material gains for the family. It only mattered cause Ford could be useful. Furthermore, this genius never netted him social acceptance from his peers growing up. He was still a bullied, weirdo, loser most of his childhood. Add that seeing Stanley kicked out would have drilled into Ford's head that if he couldn't make something out of himself his family wouldn't want him either. Stan was an unspoken threat of what this family does to failures.

Gonna bring up my own personal experiences again. Having set the stage for how it feels growing up on the spectrum. That feeling of alienness that you can't really explain. I loved to write and draw from a very young age. Moreover, as I got older I realized that when I drew, people were nice to me. The only time I got social acceptance was when people were admiring or praising me for my art. So I did it more and more, I devoted myself feverishly to my art. I loved it anyway and would have hyper-fixated on it regardless but the positive reinforcement turned art from something I loved to a need. I NEEDED to be an artist. I needed to be the best at my school. I needed all eyes on my work because it was the only way I could make friends. The only way I could prove that I had value. That I deserved a place in society.

I see that in Ford. I see his ego not as shallow narcissism but as an overwhelming need to prove his value as a person. To be loved and accepted and believing that no one will want him if he isn't brilliant. If he doesn't change the world. If he isn't useful. This is also why he couldn't bring himself to destroy his research even knowing it was the safest and most responsible option. Burning down everything he worked for would mean finally giving up on the fantasy of ever being accepted or valuable.

The sad thing is he's so single-mindedly fixated on this personal goal of proving his worth to the world that when people do come along that love him unconditionally he takes them for granted. These people are statistical anomalies in his life. Nice to have around, but not enough to fix the bigger problem. They aren't reflective of society at large. They aren't enough to prove that he, personally, is loveable. Just that on occasion he meets another weirdo. For a while it's nice. Like a campfire in a barren tundra. But he has to keep moving, he can't stay. Warmer lands are ahead if he can just get to them. If he can just keep moving.

This also is why Ford was so susceptible to Bill. Bill told Ford what he wanted to hear. That he was destined for greatness. That, the fundamental wrongness he felt all his life was something incredible other people just couldn't see. Bill promised Ford exactly what he wanted, but not what he actually needed. Ford never needed the world at large to accept him. He just needed a few good people.

I also think his chemistry with Bill was connected to his autistic experiences as well. Bill is literally an alien. There's no pressure to mask around him. To try and "act normal". Ford can just be himself with Bill and not have to think about it. And sure, he could be himself around Fiddleford, but Fidds is still human. The anxieties of human social expectations are still present. Like when Fidds get him a gift for the holidays and Ford feels a bit guilty that it didn't even occur to him to do the same. He doesn't have to think about these social nuances with Bill.

That said I'm sure Bill isn't what his world would have considered neurotypical anyway. Not that Ford would know that. But Bill was also a strange freak in his own society. Just as outcast, possibly more so. I think Bill sees a bit of his own experiences reflected in Ford. I think he relates to him on a level. Not that he would ever admit it outright due to his own ego. I think Bill's fixation on him after the breakup also stems from Ford rejecting the path that Bill chose for himself. Bill still lives with some sort of deeply repressed guilt for what he did. Imagine how validating it would have been to see someone else like him burn their own world to the ground for the same reasons Bill did. But no, Ford's a better man than him, and Bill can't stand it.

Ok, I don't know how to end this long-ass monologue so I'm gonna call it here I guess. I just wanted to spill some thoughts of mine about Ford as a character. If anyone else wants to add to this with other examinations of Ford's character through this lense go right ahead. I'm just saying as an autistic person myself I understand every choice Ford made. I could relate to why he did the things he did even if I know those were mistakes and even acknowledging that he's kind of an asshole. Ford is a strange man who makes an eerie amount of sense to me.

[cheriladycl01]

Better than me - Charles Leclerc x Reader P11

Plot: You are a rookie in your first f1 season, adding to the ever-growing amount of Brits performing in the grid

A/N: I feel like i haven't posted in so long because ive been stuck on this one chapter, and where the season isn't on right now i've distanced myself from F1 a little. I know this chapter is short but i fear its what i needed to get myself writing for F1 again.

You sat politely in the media pen, with a bottle of water before being directed next to Lando for a seat.

All of the media came in ready to start asking questions and interviewing you guys for the media panel.

It was the first race back for you where you’d actively talked to the media so it was a little nerve wracking knowing that you’d be asked if you were truly ready to come back or if it would be more beneficial for you to take some more time off and wait.

Having people like Lando was helpful as he was one of the people who checked up on you while you were out of races, he’d never spent prolonged periods of times away from the races when everyone else was racing so he didn’t actually know what it felt like.

But he of course wasn't Charles.

After your last conversation with the Ferrari driver he had become someone you thought about far too often for your own liking. He was constantly in the back of your mind and it was becoming very annoying.

And now that you were here, at a race and going to be back in the first time since your crash you saw him everywhere. And not just as a physical person, he was on the merch in the fan zone, and his face was plastered all over banners and every Ferrari you saw drive through the streets had you holding your breath wondering whether it could be him.

It never was, strangely since arriving on the Tuesday you never saw him. You couldnt really tell what would be better though. A large part of you wanted to see him, yell at him, hug him and be comforted by him. Another part of you just really wanted to ignore him and forget he even existed.

But at the end of the day, yours and Charles relationship in the short time you knew one another had been chaotic to say the least with everything that had gone on in your first season in F1.

Drive to survive could most likely do a whole series just on you this one season and all the scandals that had arose.

"Y/N? It's great to see you here" the interviewer smiles kindly at you, you give a polite nod back raising the mic up to your face.

"And it feels great to finally be back after all this time" you grin, putting on the face people wanted to see.

"Yeah? Do you feel like you've given yourself enough time away to heal. Do you feel confident getting back in the car?" he asks and you nod, head tilted to the side in a thoughtful way.

"I do. I think all drivers will agree that when something sets you back you pretty much everything to get back to where you were at. A lot set me back this year and i feel better than ever and get back to what I know which is the racing" you answer with a small smile.

"It's crazy how quickly the body can recover and mentally how you can come back from something like that" he praises and you nod, not sure if it was a question or not.

"It's obviously different because the stakes are higher, but if you had an accident in your workplace im sure once you've healed you'd go right back to the job in a muscle memory way with a little more caution at the back of your mind" you explain.

He moves on asking questions to the other drivers meaning you were free to zone out and look around calming your mind for the weekend ahead.

After what felt like hours too you, the panel ended and you were dismissed back to the garage. You had a snack before wondering around looking at the car and getting a feel for it. Every weekend you had been here and not driving, just looking at the data had you itching to get back in the car.

Now that you were here you wanted to sit back in the car. You hopped in to the cockpit your hand running round the halo as you slip your feet down. It felt weird being sat in the car in your team gear and not in the racesuit, but just holding the wheel and checking all the buttons were still in the same place as when you'd left, which looking back on after you'd checked you felt silly.

"Feeling ready for the actual test tomorrow?" Alex asks coming over from his side of the garage, having been watching you for the last 5 minutes wondering if too bother you or not.

"Mmmm? Oh yeah i think so, just a lot on my mind" you say looking up at the boy who'd become like an older brother too you.

"You're gonna be just fine. You'll prove them all wrong" Alex grins and you cock your head to the side in confusion.

"I don't even know who i have to prove myself too anymore. I- just wanna drive with no expectation but i cant really do that here can i" you laugh a little bit.

"I mean, you could. Not sure how long you'd have this job for though" he jokes and you nod.

"Mmmm yeah i guess i should try. Maybe we can even gets some points tomorrow. I do feel like i've let you all down"

"You haven't, you've been healing and having a difficult time from ... what Lily's told me" he admits slowly your head shooting out to look at him.

"Sh-she told you?" You ask.

"Yeah, I know that you didn't want her to, don't take this oiut on her but she was worried about you going into this weekend and seeing him after what happened and i just wanted to let you know i am here for you and always will be. Whatever you need, an escape, a hug, a tow. I am more than just your teammate okay?" he explains rubbing your shoulder, tears filling up your waterline as you look up at him, before you head flops againt his arm.

"Thank you Alex" you sniff.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[idlerin]

love sick — 05. it’s all cliché and full of obvious red flags

romance 101; guideline #18 — before anything else, to love someone is to love yourself first.

the squeak of the ball hitting the ground and shoes sliding across the vinyl flooring were the sounds you heard as you spent the past hour or so watching grown men consistently smashing a ball. you were one to play your roles well but you did not find that much of an interest in sports in general. you understood why people enjoyed them but it never really became your “thing”. as you watch your quote-en-quote boyfriend on the court, you’re beginning to see the appeal.

you had eyes, it was no wonder why so many people fell for suna rintarou if you only consider his physical attributes from afar. maybe it was his gaze? It was the kind that lures you in, he doesn’t look particularly interested most of the time, perhaps that was why people get a kick when he reacts differently. people have their preferences so you wouldn’t put it past them to be attracted to suna’s kind, those who make you want to learn more about them because of how reserved they are.

you look at your phone to check the time, it is 1:30 pm, their practice was supposed to end early. “early” because they began at around 6 in the morning, you could never even imagine running in the morning.

you sighed, it wasn’t like being in the gymnasium was that bad. your friends, atsumu and kageyama were here too since they were part of the team but other than that you were a total loner. sure, there are some other people here with business you don’t know of and some just there to watch and you could probably approach one of them to get some company… but that meant you had to further the conversation, you usually do have a lot of things to say but that’s exactly the problem.

your mind wanders to a conversation you had with a person the other day instead, their name was… hayami? yeah, it was hayami. she wanted to approach you about this certain situation she was in. her friend of four years confessed to her and she didn’t know what to do because she didn’t know if she liked him back in that way. throughout the years she’s had several “what-ifs” about liking this friend but it was never really a strong emotion. now that he’s confessed to her, she doesn’t know how to properly respond and she ended up running away from him. she's afraid he thinks she hates him now.

the first thing you told her was that it was okay to feel confused because she didn’t have to name a proper emotion for it right now, being “sure” of liking someone can take time. you advised her to tell him that she needs time to think first so he isn’t left hanging and that whatever she decides what to do, he should be able to understand. hayami voiced out her worries that she didn’t want to hurt his feelings because of how much she treasured their friendship. you replied by stating that not saying and telling what she meant from the beginning could hurt her and him more in the long run.

“head in the clouds?” a voice you’ve recently become used to reach your ears. you jerk your head back only to see suna in front of you, a towel slung over his shoulder.

“are you done?” your shoulders resigned from the previous bit of shock at his presence, you really were too lost in your thoughts.

“yeah, i’ll just get some things from the changing room,” he said, you nodded while your eyes drifted behind him. atsumu was wiggling his eyebrows at you and you resisted the urge to grimace.

“i’ll go with you,” you exclaim, sick and tired of sitting on the bench.

“didn’t know [name] the sweetheart was such a perv,” suna raised a brow at you.

“excuse you?” you asked, confused.

“i’m going to change,” suna deadpanned, “if you wanted to watch i’d let you.”

you shook your head, at a loss for words for once in your life, “that was obviously not what i meant, but i’ve already had my hands on you, right?” you smile, recalling yesterday when you bombarded him with a hug acting like a girlfriend who missed her boyfriend very very much. your mind was then brought back to your cupcakes which were unapologetically ruined, you mourn your hours of hard work, “so what’s a little sight-seeing?” you continue to tease, standing up.

now you’ve made him speechless, he thought he could win? hah not as long as you still have your wits about you.

“nice to know you think i’m such a view, i’d assume you enjoyed yourself for the past few hours then?” suna started walking before you could retort, you were left to follow him with a small smile on your face due to amusement.

on your way to the lockers, you saw kageyama still practicing, he really could not catch a break, wasn’t practice over? meanwhile, atsumu was making grand gestures towards you and suna, and you wished you had something to throw at him. unfortunately for you and fortunate for him, you only brought your phone out with you today (you had no classes, okay, you initially planned to catch up on some reading today, ann liang’s this time it’s real—which was coincidentally about fake dating as well—was waiting for you at home).

“hey, what were you going to give me today?” you finally ask, you didn’t get to properly talk about it with him since he was busy training. you were leaning on the wall next to the entrance of their changing rooms, he was the only one in there so it was fine to act casual.

it took a minute or two before suna finally came out, duffel bag over his shoulder where the towel once was and cloth scrunched in his hands. said cloth was then tossed to you, you almost dropped it since your reflexes aren’t that quick.

“my extra jersey, wear it on the game this sat,” suna said casually as he watched you hold his jersey up, the number 7 plastered on it, the name suna on the back. how many times have you read and watched main characters in books and films cheer for their significant other while wearing their jerseys? now you are going to partake in that sports romance trope, how funny reality can be!

“oh is that all? what else do we do for today?” your head tilts to the side.

“i heard there’s an event in the campus grounds today, i was thinking we could go there since there would be a lot of people,” suna urged you to start walking and follow him with a simple nudge of his head.

“alright, i’ll warn you now though i didn’t bring any money,” you said with a skip in your step, still clutching the shirt since you don’t have anywhere to leave it in, “can you put this in your bag first, though?”

“who said you were paying?” he said casually while taking his jersey and placing it in his bag for a second.

you froze for a moment, “could you stop acting like a k-drama male lead?”

this made suna chuckle, he chuckled, you don’t think you’ve even seen the man smile, “you caught on quickly, huh? osamu’s been recommending me shows so that i could ‘learn by example’ whatever that means.”

right, you keep forgetting the suna is in the same friend group as atsumu and his brother, you know there’s this other guy in the group too named omiomi something? atsumu wouldn’t shut up about him. you’ve met osamu briefly before but you wouldn’t say that you were properly acquainted with him, you do see him a lot on campus because you get startled by how much him and atsumu look alike.

“i’m a matchmaker, i’m clearly well-versed in all forms of romantic media,” you say in a ‘duh’ tone.

“you can carry us then, acting romantic isn’t for me,” suna shrugged.

“no, you have to do your part,” you insist, as you step out of the gymnasium.

“what you want me to hold your hand or something?”

“that would be a good start,” you say, holding your hand out to him. he stares at it as if it’s some unknown species, and then he wordlessly extends his hand to intertwine with yours.

masterlist — previous | next

❥ fun facts !

it was only recently that [name] got addicted to strawberry flavored drinks.

semi has gigs weekly that [name] always goes to watch.

atsumu once during april fools convinced osamu to wear matching clothes from head to toe and wear matching caps to see how many people would confuse them for each other.

love sick ! a suna rintarou social media au

synopsis. cupid! calling cupid! as the resident matchmaker slash hopeless romantic of tokyo university, you are the person people look for to get love advice or to set them up with the love of their lives. when suna rintarou comes to you asking for the opposite, to help fend people away from trying to get with him, to the extremes of even asking to fake date you, you couldn't refuse! mostly because you did owe him since he was on the receiving end of a bunch of your clients’ unsuccessful love efforts (hey, you do warn them your matchmaking only has a 62.3% success rate).

a/n — gotta love a man that insults you (just kidding, suna rintarou is the exception).

taglist is OPEN ! + (1/2) @yas-mjm @agirlwholovesalot @yenqa @fairywriter-oracle @noideawhothatis @alienvarmint @renardiererin @cheezitwh0re @yaboiithewreck @zephestia @nicerthanu @wolffmaiden @2baddies-1porsche @bluegrey02 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @lylovw @fo-love @cloudsvna @haruskatana @apinu @coyloves @rockleeisbaeeee @geombyu @girlkissersco @reveusecherie @mwhahahalasagna @megumiif @erenjvegerrr @thechaosoflonging @rintarousgirl @ris-krispie @kamikokii @complexivelovely @justabreadslice @hearts4faey @yuzurins @eleanorheartschishiya @hearts4itoshi @justsomeonewhoyoudontknow @rijhi @sleepystrwbrryy @snail-squasher @seiamor @wave2love @le000xxgrd @iuspired @theidontknowmehn @linmabbe @rntrsuna @tenaciouswritersheep

if i can not tag you, please change your mentions settings to “everyone” thank you!

[lesbiansanemi]

You know, actually, in regards to that post I reblogged earlier, I do actually think Akaza would be and should be a fucking mess post becoming human. Like actually I don't think it would "fix" him in any way and in fact, might just make him worse

Like Akaza becomes human and Kyojuro is like oh this will help him, obviously he was taking steps in the right direction but this will help Akaza better connect with his past and memories and emotions and help him live again

But then Akaza can just. barely fucking function. That guy is hardly dragging himself out of bed in the morning. He hates being alive. Can't kill himself because that would make Kyojuro sad though. Then he feels bad that he hates being alive because like. that feels like spitting on all the second and third and fourth chances he's been given.

Alternates between sleeping way too much and being exhausted cuz he can't sleep at all. Claims it's because he never had to sleep as a demon and he's still getting used to it but really... he's just massively depressed but yknow it's the taisho era so what are they gonna do about that

Kyojuro asks him if he's eaten today and Akaza shakes his head and Kyo just sighs not so much because he's frustrated but he really doesn't like that Akaza feels so fucking bad

I know he will be absolutely fine one minute but then he started thinking too hard and all of a sudden he's a mess. More mentally than anything, usually no one even notices except Kyo cuz suddenly Akaza got way too quiet and normally he never shuts the fuck up so Kyo just leans against him because he doesn't really know what else to do what can he do

Like I do think Akaza is very good at pretending to be okay because like. centuries of being alive will do that to a person and again he reasons he's been through worse right like his dad killed himself, his fiance and father in law were murdered, he spent hundreds of years killing and eating people so like. yeah. he's fine now. because this isn't worse than that but obviously Kyojuro notices. It's just... there's really not much he can do except tell him it's alright and try to make sure he's at least physically taking care of himself

And again. Akaza is aware of all of this. But that doesn't really do anything to help again he just feels fucking bad about it but...

Can't kill himself because that would make Kyojuro sad...

[mdconfession-blog]

I'm still concerned about the age thing so I think, maybe, we shouldn't use human logic when they're obviously drones, but at the same time they're SUPER advanced AI that can mirror humans so uuuuuuhhhhdhjdjkkabhdgsjagdhdbdkwbfkbwkdnfkej *has a stroke*

A while ago, I wasn't those who straight up considered N x Uzi a proship but the "age gap" was kind of weirdddd.....

Nowadays I ship nuzi, BUT IM STILL CONCERNED BECAUSE imagine a guy kills your mom, drinks her blood to survive, you grow up, AND DATE HIM???

-The blood thing could be "fine" since everyone is basically a cannibal here. Nori as a solver user ate(💅) and killed people too.

-They're not humans, therefore they don't have our morals and shit, and they also definitely don't share our biological logic. We're kind of forgetting they're robots, N was manufactured. We don't know how long it took for Uzi to grow up, but V says this in the pilot: "I've been trying to open these doors for months!" That was the first time they entered the wd colony, so that could imply everything before canon* happened between 1-13 months (don't forget seramorris, copper-9's extra month)

*Cabin fever labs, Nori-Yeva-Alice are taken out of the mining factory (that's where she got the pickaxe) to run absolute solver tests on drones, oops, goes wrong, get possessed idiot, core collapse, Nori gets visions, marry khan, build uzi, DDs arrive to copper-9, lots of death, brand new blast doors, there might be a plot hole, I forgot what I was saying, oh. yeah. Uh. They're machines so, Uzi's childhood (she says she chose her username when she was 8, I think) lasted just some months. My theory is they go from pill baby to the common worker drone body we know, in the span of 13 months. If my theory is untrue, that would mean N, V, and J, spent at least 18 YEARS outside doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING besides the corpse spire from the drones that couldn't make it into the colony, which means the wdf is even more useless than J (unbelievable)

There's no age gap because there's no physical age. They're immortal machines (if not killed). They don't develop like humans. THERE IS THOUGH, A MENTAL AGE!!!!!!!!!!. So no. You can't ship J and khan. (+he has nori) So, no, N is not a creep, he's a genocide robot, Uzi's a genocide robot.... everyone is a genocide robot– ok I'm done

—🌜❄️

⠀

[blankcest]

YOU KNOW WHAT FUCK IT I'VE SAID IT BEFORE I'LL SAY IT AGAIN (also because I'm procrastinating on pinesot4 day 3...)

I LOVE THE IDEA OF TRANS GAMMA FORD SO MUCH

Ford was just The Same As Stan for so long, an equal, a partner, but then they presented and Stan Came Out Wrong because he was an omega and Ford was an alpha and now Ford's supposed to look after and protect Stan which he can't do because Stan's bigger and stronger and braver than him and he just fails at it. And he blames Stan because at least Ford's trying to fit his role, obviously he just can't be Stan's alpha and there's no one else but him because he's been seperate from his classmates so long so he just has to get out of the city, then he can do the alpha thing that everyone's expecting of him. And he kind of does, alpha of one over Fiddleford who helps him the whole way by telling him exactly how to be a good alpha for him - before he goes off to get married to a different alpha for reasons Ford didn't understand. Then he was alone again, an antisocial leader of only himself, reclusive, avoidant, they never say how important it is to be social as an alpha, he didn't want people to smell expectation on him. But then, his muse, a higher being, there was really no blaming him for treating Bill as an equal and even sometimes a superior because Bill Was Superior, and Bill didn't want Ford to lead him, he wanted him to lead for him, spearhead the portal project with his guidance, direct Fiddleford for him, he'd never felt so confident he was doing the right thing, never felt so safe and welcomed to submit to his muse. Then Bill betrayed him, and Ford was the alpha again, Ford was in charge again and just like every other time it fell apart because he was a broken alpha. But, broken alphas suit broken omegas, and Stanley was always far too mouthy and dominant to be a good omega. If Stanley would just take his journal (take his responsibility) out of his hands then everything would be okay. But then, they fought, because that was the only part of being an alpha he was ever good at no matter how baser and animalistic it was. And Ford lost. And Ford went through the portal. And Ford spent 30 years learning exactly how asinine his fussing over presentation was.

Then when he's out of the portal after 30 years of not being called anything but Ford, he doesn't identify with his presentation, doesn't want it, doesn't like when his aggression flares and he hurts his brother, or the kids, can't trust himself to be in charge because every time he is things fall apart. But Stanley's there, and Stanley knows what he's doing, and Stanley doesn't ever ask for more than Ford can give, and Stanley treats him like a partner, takes care of him, loves him as he is and supports him. And Ford isn't an alpha, never has been not really, but he's happy finally having an identity that suits him

Anyways Ford begging Stan to get him pregnant even tho it's physically impossible Ford Will Find A Way

YES YES YES YES YOU FUCKIKF GET IT YOU SEE THE VISION !!!

GIVE HIM DYSPHORIA AND A FREAK COMPLEX PLEASE

HOD FUCK, YEAH YEAH YEAH

Maybe as a treat I have Ford figure out he’s transsex and he starts transitioning a bit… i could write a fic about that.

[8-rae-rae-8]

He's sick, they told him. His doctors, his parents. And god did their cruel words ever worsen. His date was sealed the day his paperwork was filed.

"Simon Riley [Little: 0-3]"

Just like that his life was over, age 12 and unable to run away with every piece of paper work and documentation making him permanently his father's. Oh how it made his skin crawl.

Years were spent fighting himself back. He'd shrink to that headspace, and so would his body. But his parents didn't wipe his tears or clean him up. Poor Tommy took a lot of it. A caregiver by nature, but an addict because of their father. His mother was practically out of the picture with how little she could help.

His first thought was military. But the more research he did, the less it seemed possible. Any job deemed scary or laborious wasn't allowed for a little. It was even on his fucking ID when he was old enough to save one. By 18, he was making Tommy sign in appwroek claiming that Simon was neutral. And as Tommy was listed a legal carer (his father's doing), it went through. Tommy was too high, hungover or sick to realize what he was doing, which Simon took advantage of.

It took years for him to crash again. Years to curl up in his bed in the cold, cold room he stayed in. Lieutenant, they called him. His team. His Captain, Mactavish, what would he think? His other teammates... Gaz, Roach. God they'd be disgusted.

The size of a baby curled up under a ton of blankets just waiting to feel big again. All he could do was hide anyway. No one should ever be allowed to see him like this-Simon didn't even think they'd hesitate to throw him out. Come morning, it was no easier. He was still too tiny to even get himself out of bed. He'd fall on the floor, that's how tiny he was. He probably couldn't even walk...

How late was he for breakfast? The alarm went off earlier, causing him to screech in terror before he pulled his blankets back over himself. It was a dandelion game to play, getting to far into the military then crashing in bed and physically unable to get help and unable to get himself to feel big again.

It was all scary. Terrifying, even. In any other situation, his captain would be right at his side. Mactavish would've been there. But this? For this he was alone. Always alone.

He's sick. Something in his head made him sick. Different from everyone else and weak. Weak because he of his fear. Because of his regression... Some days he was lucky almost all of his file was blacked out, others not so much. He needed help.

And the longer he stayed in bed, unable to get out, just the size of a wee kiddo, maybe it would come. Mactavish always came to him if he wasn't at meal times on time.

Soon enough that familiar knock rang through his room. Fuck, Simon couldn't help the cry that came from him. His chest heaving with the intensity of it. In no more than a second, Mactavish was in the room and looking for him.

It only took a minute for Simon to be lifted into the captain's arms. Sobs falling from his lips as his tiny hands grabbed at his shirt.

"Are ye my Si, wee one?" Mactavish asked, swaying with him. Of course he was, but it was pretty much instinct to be a little playful and sweet like that.

Obviously Simon couldn't exactly respond. He tugged at his shirt weakly, his little legs kicking at the air as he cried.

"Oh, Si... Simon, love..." Soap murmured. His heart beating insanely fast with the little one clutching onto him. He didn't even know Simon regressed... He has his suspicions, but this? Regressing so small? Small enough to fit perfectly on his chest with just one hand holding him?

The wailing settled enough for Simon to hear Mactavish talking to him. His captain but that didn't matter anymore- He didn't see a captain looking at him, maybe a friend instead. He tugged at his shirt and whimpered.

"yeah, I know... Ye're too small, huh? Didn't ye get taught to ask for help when ye need it, wee one?" Mactavish asked softly, brushing over the very short hair on his head. Dark, not quite black though. Carefully, he sat back on Simon's bed with him in his arms, tears reduced to hiccups.

"I wish ye woulda told me, Simon... Somethin' stressed ye out and ye crashed... Not good for ye." Mactavish told him, rocking Simon in his arms. Slow and gentle. "Do ye even have anything for this?" He worried.

And Simon couldn't tell him, only point or whine. But no, no he didn't have anything because he never wanted this to happen. He thought he could control it enough- but no, he couldn't. He was weak.

"Simon, hey, M'eudail... It's okay. We'll get ye stuff." Soap didn't know how he'd get him off base without being seen, he didn't say that to Simon though. He needed the little one's trust.

"I know ye're scared.. I've got this, okay? I've got you." Mactavish promised him. Using a smaller blanket he found, he gently swaddled Simon up and got him cozy. The little one didn't whine or cry, he actually relaxed quite a bit.

Simon babbled up at Soap, wiggling before settling into the warm blanket.

"Oh yeah, baby? Tell me." Soap cooed softly at him as he picked Simon back up. All swaddled and cute. Albeit a little messy.

Simon giggled and babbled a little more at the encouragement. For the first time, he didn't feel scared when he was small. He wasn't going to be shouted at, hit, or anything else... He should know his captain was safe, this was just surprising...

"Yeah?? That's a lot, Darlin'." Mactavish was so sweet. Feuling his babbling while he made sure Simon was comfortable.

The two went back and forth with babbling for a long while, until they did have to figure out where to get Simon things like pacis and other baby needs. Though he should have, Soap didn't really hide Simon, just covering his face since he knew that he wouldn't want people seeing. So he held Simon just right and let him nuzzle into his neck. The few people that saw were definitely confused, but no on questioned it. Not with Mactavish glaring at anyone who tried.

Of course he didn't drive, he carefully walked with Simon in his arms to a near by town to grab the things they needed. The basics, pacis, dips, bottles, formula, and some baby bath stuff. And Simon squealed at the bubble bath stuff that Soap grabbed, making him chuckle and poke Si's side.

Getting back into base was the same thing, glaring at anyone who asked anything about the little one on his chest. He wasn't up for questions and he didn't want Si being pestered later when he was big. It was easier to avoid. The first thing he did when inside his own room, he got Simon padded up and a cleaned paci (washed in his sink just in case).

Simon didn't whine or kick his legs. He was well behaved, actually... He babbled a little, muffled by his paci but Soap still responded.

Oh how he loved it... It was so easy to relax like this. Being put gently back over Mactavish's chest while swaddled up all comfortable. How could he not relax?

Being talked to helped a lot too, Mactavish's voice working to ease him further. Si liked the gentle rumble of his chest and hearing his silly accent.

A nap was in order the second Simon's eyes began to close. Soap swayed with him side to side while humming an unfamiliar tune to him, but it all felt safe nonetheless. There was no pushing for a nap, no leaving him in a room and waiting for him to pass out. No, this was gentle coaxing until he fell asleep naturally.

Maybe this would all go away in the morning, but maybe it would be okay to happen again- Mactavish wasn't cruel. He showed no signs of mistrust or betrayal about Simon's many lies regarding his classification. He was just as warm as he usually was to him, if not more.

Simon was safe like this. Happy and warm. Never had he fallen asleep so easily before. Protected by his Captain's arms and comforted by his voice. There was no better person to be helped by.

[otherone12]

Hey again! So I was wondering if you could write something like a comfort fic for Gerard Way x reader, maybe basement, bullets, or revenge era (something early, but it can also be something labeled as any era, i dont really care) for a reader with an eating disorder and stuggles with fasting and cal counting and insecurity and all that. I know you clarified it’s not a trigger or anything but obviously if writing any of that makes you uncomfortable you dont have to. Sorry if I wasn’t specific enough and sorry for such a strange request lmao. I find a lot of comfort fics for Gerard but not much for stuff under the ednos umbrella. Thanks so so much for the reply and like I said in the last ask I love your writing so much!! Again I hope you have an awesome day 💕

You're Not In This Alone

Bullets!Gerard Way x Reader

-> Masterlist

A/N: Hey!! Damn i just disappeared again, last month were crazy... a lot of tests (i almost failed in physics, but ended up taking the recovery test and getting an A+), then i get sick (i'm still taking antibiotics), and my notebook just stopped work (i'm using my dad's) ... i'm so so so sorry for took that long to write this, this request were sent like three months ago... again i'm so sorry. Hope you like it! (If it turned out too different from what you imagined, let me know and I'll try to fix it :) ). And omg, almost 150 followers! thank u sm <3

Percebi que tem muita galera BR me seguindo também. Muito obrigada, pessoal, adoro vocês aaaa <3

Summary: Gerard noticed you are acting different and avoiding meals, so he did his best to be close to you, even during the tour.

- Word Count: 3.200

- Warnings: Eating Disorder!!!

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

Gerard’s 1st Person POV

We’ve been dating for almost a year, and some stuff has been a bit weird lately. I’m not the kind of person who usually notices these things, maybe it’s just my mind worrying too much, but I don’t think so.

It started small, like last week, when she spent the day at my house. Everything was going fine, she arrived early, said some polite greetings to my parents, and we went down to my basement, she sat on the bed, and I laid on her lap, like always. The morning was calm and comfy, we laughed at nothing, just enjoying each other’s company.

- Are you up for some burgers, babe? - I looked up at her, tilting my head - I’m starving.

- I’m not hungry, Gee… - she said quietly, her hands not leaving my hair - But if you are, go ahead…

She gave me a small smile and I got up from her lap, sitting next to her. 

- Are you sure? - I furrowed, and asked one more time - You haven't eaten anything since you arrived…

- I’m fine - She cupped my face - I just ate a lot for breakfast.

She pressed her lips on mine, quick but sweet.

- Uh… if you say so… - I blinked, and smirked - If you change your mind, you can always steal my fries. 

- Thanks, babe. - She smiled, sweetly.

But she didn’t. She ate nothing. Later, I grabbed some chips, her favorites, and she ‘wasn’t hungry’. 

Next day we had a rehearsal, and like always, she was there with us, cheering and hanging out. Later we ordered pizza, and she took a few bites and dropped. I didn’t push her or ask why she didn’t eat, cause all the guys were around. I didn't want to embarrass her or something. 

Once the guys were out, I went to her.

- Babe… i-i’ve been noticing you haven't eaten - I Tried, reaching her hands - Are you sure you are okay?

- Yeah, I’m fine - she nodded, like was everything all right - I had a few snacks when you were helping Mikey to set the stuff for the rehearsal.

- Really? - I raised a brow

- Yep. You don’t need to worry, Gee.

I was dumb enough to believe her. She slept here, in my house, and after we got out of the shower, she stumbled in, nothing. 

- Whoa- Hey, are you okay? - I held her by the waist, and she stood up again.

- Yeah… i must be tired i guess - She chuckles.

- Are you sure? Cause-

- Babe, you worry too much… - She kissed my cheek - And I love you for it, but I'm fine. 

Maybe it was just a few coincidences, right? Wrong. Because yesterday, I went to her house. She ate one apple. Just one apple, the whole day.

I went out of her room to grab some water for us, but when I walked in, I caught her looking at the mirror. Not fixing her hair or adjusting her clothes, she looked… nervous.

- Babe? I stepped toward her -  my voice softer - Everything okay? She jumped a little, like I’d startled her, then quickly turned away, fixing her shirt. - Yeah, I’m fine, Gee. - She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

- Right… - I frowned, but didn’t press further. But that feeling, that gnawing feeling in my gut, wouldn’t leave.

*** time skip ***

A few weeks later, the tour was right around the corner. The guys were buzzing with excitement, but all I could think about was her. There was no way I could leave her like this—not when something clearly wasn’t right. So, I did what any decent boyfriend would do. I asked her to come with us. 

I showed up at her house like any normal day, but my heart was racing. I stood on her porch, hands in my pockets, trying to shake the nerves as I waited for her to answer the door.

- Gee! - she beamed, throwing her arms around me before I could even say a word.

- Hey, babe… - I kissed the top of her head, smelling the scent of her hair. - You okay?

- Yeah - She looked up, still hugging me - how ‘bout you?

- I’m good. - I grinned at her - I want to ask you something…

- Spit it - her eyes went wide for a second.

- MCR is going on tour… - I tilted my head, my hands still on her waist -  and I want you to go with us… are you up to-

- Yes! - she practically shouted, eyes lighting up. - Oh my- Of course I want to! 

- Then start to pack your stuff, babe. We’re leaving tomorrow.

She held my hand and started to lead me upstairs, so I just smiled, and followed her to her bedroom. But then, when I thought everything couldn't be more perfect,  just as we reached her bedroom door, she stopped. Her hand shot out to the doorframe, steadying herself. Her smile faltered. She looked dizzy, as if she was tired or nauseous or... weak. 

- I’m fine - She said, her smile weak, but I was really not convinced. - just tripped. 

- Sweetheart, - My hand reached her shoulder, my voice sweet and worried - have you eaten today? 

- What? Of course I did… - she gave me a smile, shaking her head - Stop worry, Gee.

- Okay… - I sighed and nodded, but my gut twisted. I wasn’t about to stop.

She walked into the room and opened her closet, searching through the clothes and sorting out some black T-shirts. 

- So, will you help me to pick my clothes? I have no idea where to begin… - she chuckled, showing me one of my own shirts she’d “borrowed” weeks ago. - I’m totally bringing this one with me.

I walked close to her, getting on her back and wrapping my arms around her waist.

- You should… it looks good on you - My lips touched the soft skin of her neck - everything looks good on you… you are beautiful, you know?

- You are so cheesy sometimes - She rolled her eyes, but I see the smile on her mouth, and a little blush on her cheeks.

- guilty… - i smirked, turning her to look at me, our noses brushing - But i’m just saying the truth

Our lips met, sweet and slow, her hands reached my jaw, pulling me close.

We spent the rest of the night packing. Well, she packed, I mostly sat on her bed and watched her panic over how many shirts to bring. Her excitement was real, but under it… I still saw the little things.

The way she swayed a little when she stood up too fast.

The way she avoided looking in the mirror when she changed.

The way she laughed it off every time I asked if she wanted something to eat.

By morning, we were on the road, the van loaded with gear and cheap snacks. Ray took the first shift driving, Frank was in the passenger seat, and I was in the backseat, between Mikey and my girlfriend.

- I'm happy you are here… - I said, wrapping my arms around her shoulder, pulling her closer - couldn’t bear to stay away from you for months…

- Yeah… me neither… - She kissed my temple, wrapping her arm around my waist - Thanks for inviting me…

- Don’t need to thank me - I turned just enough to look at her - Besides, I planned a lot of things for us to do…

- Can you guys stop being gross? - Mikey chimed in.

- You’re just jealous some other bassist isn’t here,- I shot back with a smug grin. - I couldn’t hold back a smirk.

- Shut up! 

The sun was barely creeping over the horizon, and the van already smelled like Red Bull, sweat, and crushed chips. Mikey had passed out against the window with his headphones on, and Frank was making some kind of bizarre playlist war with Ray up front, arguing whether Sabbath or The Misfits should be next.

She sat quietly next to me, legs tucked under her, her cheek resting on her palm as she looked out the window. Her hair caught the morning light just right, and for a second, I forgot how worried I was.

I reached into the snack bag by my feet and pulled out a pack of mini pretzels, nothing fancy, just something.

- Hey, babe - I nudged her gently with my elbow, - You want some?

She blinked like she hadn’t heard me at first, then turned to me with a soft smile. 

- No, I’m okay. 

- You sure? - I held the bag out, trying to keep my voice light. - They’re not as terrible as they look.

She shook her head, still smiling, but I saw the hesitation. Like maybe she wanted to say yes, but something else was louder in her head. I didn’t push. Just opened the bag, grabbed a few for myself, and tossed it between us. She looked down at it, lips twitching like she was fighting a grin.

- Okay, kinda weird, but still keep me from starving - I mumbled through a mouthful.

She didn’t respond, just leaned her head back against the seat again. Five minutes passed. Ten. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her hand move. Slow. Casual.

She pulled the bag open and popped one into her mouth, like it was nothing.

I didn’t say anything. Didn’t look at her. But my heart ached in the best and worst way.

- See? - I said quietly, like we were in on a secret. - Not completely terrible.

She let out a soft laugh, almost sheepish, and nudged her knee against mine. I didn’t say it out loud, but in that moment, something in me unclenched. Even if it was just one pretzel. 

At our first stop after a few hours on the road, she stepped out of the van and stretched with a soft sigh. The sun had dipped low, casting golden light over everything… and then I saw it. She was wearing one of my old T-shirts, the sleeves rolled up, just barely brushing her thighs. She tied her hair up without thinking, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

She looked incredible. And I couldn’t, for the life of me, understand how she didn’t see it. The way her body moved, graceful and real, all soft curves and quiet strength, she was a masterpiece. Like a painting no one could recreate, no matter how hard they tried.

I walked up to her, reached out without a word. She slid her hand into mine like she always did, like it belonged there.

- You are so pretty… - I murmured, my eyes locked on her.

- Gee-

- No, I mean it… - as she looked away, but i squeezed her hand gently - You are so fucking pretty… 

- Keep saying that and i will combust - She smiled

- Nah… - I shook my head, and winked - Just making sure you know how lucky I am.

She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth tugged into that crooked little smile I loved so much. Still hand in hand, we wandered into the 24-hour gas station shop, her fingers warm against mine.

The place was nearly empty, lit with the kind of too-bright fluorescent lights that made everything feel a little off. Frank and Mikey were already hunting for the weirdest energy drinks they could find, and Ray was arguing with the cashier about the price of beef jerky.

She wandered toward the snack aisle, scanning without much interest, arms crossed like a shield across her chest. I watched her for a second, trying not to make it obvious, then slipped over to the cooler in the back.

She once told me her favorite thing to eat on the road was strawberry milk and a pack of mini donuts, said it reminded her of being a kid. I never forgot.

So, I grabbed them.

When I came back, she was still pretending to be interested in some granola bar she wasn’t going to buy.

- Here,- I said, holding the stuff out like it was no big deal. - Thought you might want this.

- You remembered? - Her eyes widened just a little. 

- Of course I did. - I shrugged, trying to sound casual. - Strawberry milk and fake powdered joy.

She laughed softly, actually laughed, and took them from my hands.

- Thanks, Gee.

- Anytime. - I leaned in, brushing a kiss to her cheek. 

And then, she opened the pack. Took one of the donuts and popped it into her mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I didn’t say anything. Didn’t want to make it weird or turn it into a moment. But inside, I felt like I could cry. Just a little.

She sipped the strawberry milk next, sighing contentedly as we made our way to the register. She ate. She smiled. It was small. But it was something.

We went back to the van, and before long, the road had lulled us all into that half-sleepy daze. Mikey was at the wheel now, sunglasses on even though the sun had already started to fade. Frank snored with his mouth wide open, Ray mumbled something about guitar strings in his sleep, and she curled up beside me with her head on my shoulder, warm and quiet.

I kept my arm around her, eyes half-closed, and tried not to think too hard about anything. Just her heartbeat near mine, the rhythm of the road, the soft buzz of being close to someone you love.

The next day flew by.

We were up early, venue chaos mode. Setting up amps, checking mics, fixing the lighting, arguing over the setlist like we didn’t already know it by heart. It was always like this, but I loved it. And this time? She was there. Watching. Laughing. Taking pictures of Frank doing something dumb with a mic stand. Dancing along to our soundcheck.

Her energy lit the whole place up.

- You nervous? - she asked, coming up behind me while I tuned my guitar.

- Nah, - I said, glancing over my shoulder. “Not when you’re here.”

She grinned and hugged me from behind, resting her cheek against my back. And for a second, everything felt right.

But then… later, we grabbed lunch, some greasy takeout from a place down the street, and she picked at it. Barely ate half a sandwich before pushing it away. I didn’t say anything right then. Just took a fry and nudged the container toward her.

- Try this,- I said. - They’re actually good. Not poison, I promise.

She rolled her eyes but popped one in her mouth, chewing slowly. I offered her more, and she didn’t say no. It was always like that, if I was eating and asked her to eat with me, she’d eat too. But never on her own. Never when she thought no one was paying attention.

By the time we hit backstage just before the show, she was bouncing on the balls of her feet, practically vibrating with excitement.

- You look hot in your stage outfit, - she teased, tugging at the lapel of my jacket.

- You’re one to talk, - I said, pulling her closer for a kiss. - You’re radiant.

- Shut up. - She laughed, blushing, then smacked my arm. 

I kissed her before getting on stage, and the energy there was insane. Even performing for the small crowd in front of me, I kept looking at her, checking to be sure if she was okay.

But near the end of the set, something felt off.

It was during “Cubicles” when I glanced over again, something in me just tugged my eyes her way, and I saw her stumble a little. Not dramatically, just a small, clumsy tilt. She tried to steady herself against the wall, laughing it off like she tripped or lost her balance.

I missed a chord.

Ray looked at me, confused, but I covered it fast and kept going, even though my stomach had just twisted into a knot.

When we finished the last song, I barely said goodbye to the crowd. As soon as we were offstage, I rushed toward her.

- Babe? - I called, pushing past a crew guy. She was leaning on a flight case, hand pressed to her temple.

- I’m fine, - she said quickly, too quickly.

- You’re not, - I murmured, catching her elbow just as her knees buckled slightly. - Hey, hey, sit down.

I guided her to a folding chair against the wall. Her skin felt clammy, her eyes glassy. My heart hammered in my chest.

- I just got dizzy, - she said, brushing her hair out of her face. - It’s hot back here, and I haven’t slept -

- And you barely ate today, - I cut in gently. I crouched in front of her, brushing her hair behind her ear. - You scared the shit out of me.

She bit her lip and looked away, and that silence said more than any lie could.

- I’m okay now, Gee. I promise.

- You don’t look okay… - I said softly. - Let me help you. Please.

She didn’t answer at first. Just leaned forward, pressing her forehead to mine, eyes fluttering closed.

- Gee… I just… it's complicated, you know? - she whispered. 

I kissed her knuckles and sat there with her, letting the world move around us for a minute, just her and me in the chaos, trying to hold on.

- You don’t have to say anything if it’s too hard, - I murmured, still holding her hand, - but you don’t have to go through this alone, okay?

Her fingers tightened around mine. She still wasn’t looking at me, but her breathing hitched, just a little. Like she was holding something in.

- I know it doesn’t make sense, - she finally said, voice barely above a whisper. - But sometimes... it’s like I'm not good enough unless I’m... less."

That word hit me like a punch.

- You don’t have to be less, - I said, instantly. My voice cracked. I leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her hand, then to her temple. - God, if you only saw what I see when I look at you.

She finally looked at me. Eyes shining. Scared. Vulnerable.

- You’re beautiful, - I said, and I meant it so much it almost hurt. - Not just like, ‘cute outfit’ or ‘pretty smile’ beautiful. I mean… you light up every room. You make the darkest things feel soft. And I love you. All of you.

She blinked hard, and a single tear slipped down her cheek. I caught it with my thumb.

- You don’t have to be well overnight, - I went on. - Just let me be here. Let me remind you to eat. Let me worry about you and hold you tight when you need. 

She let out a shaky breath, then nodded, leaning into me again, her arms wrapping tight around my neck.

- Okay… - she whispered.

I closed my eyes, holding her close, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against mine.

- That’s all I ask, - I said softly. - We’ll figure it out together.

- Thank you, Gee… -  She said, looking deep in my eyes, with a shaky voice - I love you

- I love you too… More than anything.

And as the backstage chaos buzzed back to life around us, shouts and clanging equipment and post-show adrenaline, I held her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Because to me, she was.

___________________________________________

So... That's it! hope u like it! feedbacks are always welcome!

- Tag List: @bossiestbitch @mimilovesnumetal @tw1nk4emoboys @f4wnfangz @g0ddnessshad0ws

Comment or ask to joint the taglist (:

[oliveisme533]

My dad’s neighbor is a dilf

Chapter 4

Joel Miller x You

Summery: You had decided to spend your summer in Austin with your dad. You used to spend almost every summer there, but hadn't spent a summer there since you were a teenager. Which means you hadn't seen a certain Joel Miller in years..

Warnings: abusive ex is back. Verbal abuse and physical violence (not against reader)

You roll over in your bed with a groan and stretch your arms. Grabbing your phone you check the time 10:03. Early for you. You decide to hop in the shower before your dad can ask you to help pick up fallen branches in the yard from last nights storm. You let the scolding water hit your body and you draw in a deep breath. Tomorrow was Monday which meant your dad would be back to work and you wouldn't have anyone to talk to or hang out with until 5 o'clock. Rinsing the soap from your face you contemplated just what to do with tomorrow, in fact you were beginning to wonder how to make use of your summer in general. The last couple weeks of doing nothing had been a much needed reprieve from your busy life, but you were starting to get a little stir crazy. You turned off the water, still deep in thought when you heard your phone buzzing. You tiptoed over to your bedside table and saw Joel's name lighting up the screen. "Why is he calling me?" You pick up the phone ...

Hello Hey sweetheart didn't wake ya did I? No no I've been up...for a few minutes (Joel chuckled) Well hey listen, one of my coworkers was looking for a sitter for tonight. He and the Misses are going out and their regular girl can't make it. Any interest in an easy job for the night? Oh yeah I can definitely do that. God know I've got nothing else going on. Okay I'll send you the info! Thanks darlin'

Obviously he wasn't calling just because he wanted to chat with you. It was a stupid thing to even hope for. The rest of the day went by relatively slowly, but when 6 o'clock rolled around you put some snacks in your back pack, a phone charger, and a book you had been trying to finish for several weeks now. The babysitting was easy. It was one kid, she was four years old and for the most part did whatever you asked. The parents told you they would be out late so when 11:45 rolled around you weren't surprised they hadn't come home yet. The house was quiet...too quiet. You never much liked this part of being a baby sitter. It was different when you did it for Sarah. The millers house was always warm and full of life. Those nights when Joel did get home a little later you felt safe curling up in on his couch with the TV on. Most of the times you would fall asleep like that and Joel would drive you home the next day after making you and Sarah breakfast. You smile at the memory. The sounds of the house settling are enough to snap you from this daydream down memory lane. "Fuck I really don't like this huge, quiet house. What if I call someone to keep me company. Dad will be asleep, so would mom and my sister. I bet Joel Miller is awake..." you stare at your phone and contemplate this next move. "Fuck it" you mutter and tape his name. The phone only rings a couple of times before you hear Joel's husky voice. A twinge of guilt shoots through you as you fear you've woken him up.

Hello? Everything okay? Hey, yeah I'm so sorry did I wake you? I was just restin' my eyes that's all. I ain't in bed yet. Well I just- I really don't like being in these houses all by myself. It sounds stupid but it's kinda scary I guess. 'S not stupid. You want someone to talk to-keep ya company? Yeah... and I figured you'd be awake still, but I guess I figured wrong You're all right honey, I really don't mind. I needed to get off this couch and sleep in my bed any how. But how 'bout you tell me about your day? My day was pretty boring honestly. I played with the cat, ate some ice cream and watched TV Wat'd ya watch? Love island What in the hell is that?

You laughed and proceeded to tell him all about the show. A little while passed and then you heard the lock click and knew the parents were home. You told Joel you had to go to which he responded "alright let me know when you get home safe. Can call me if you want." Back home you pondered whether or not you should call Joel. It was late and you were feeling tired, but you wanted to talk to him. After slipping into your pajamas you felt like you could hardly stay awake much longer, but you were determined to take advantage of this invitation from Joel to call him. So you tapped his name and watched the phone ring. You put it to your ear and your heart sank with each unanswered ring. When it went to voicemail you resolved that he had likely fallen asleep and you decided to do the same.

The next day you woke up early (ish) at 9:00. Your dad had already left for work. You roll over in your bed to check your phone and your heart pounds.

Missed call from Joel Miller 36m ago

You're hoping he's not at work yet and call him back quickly. "Hey sweetheart" he picks up within a few rings. "Sorry I missed your call last night. I ended up falling asleep and didn't hear the phone." It was so nice to hear his voice first thing in the morning. "Oh you don't need to apologize. I didn't really need anything, I just like talking to you" you could almost hear Joel grin as he said "well I like talkin' to you too sugar" you had walked down to your kitchen to put on a pot of coffee at this point when you say "hey why aren't you at work?" "Waitin for some parts to come in for this current job. Until they do there's nothin else I can really do. But the parts are supposed to be here by noon... so I'll get my ass to work in a couple hours" you notice a note taped to the fridge as Joel finishes saying all this. "I completely forget" you mutter to yourself, but apparently Joel hears. "What'd you forget?" "My dad left me a note reminding me that he's gone on a business trip and won't be back until Thursday." "Oh that's right. Your dad did mention that. Told me to keep an eye out for ya." "Did he really? "Yeah I mean you're going to be by yourself in that big house for almost 3 days" "I'm a grown ass woman though!" Joel chuckled. "No ones sayin you ain't, darlin. Dads worry and that don't change from when you're 5 or when you're 25" "I guess that's fair enough" you shrug. "I should get my day started here... might go on a run and catch up on laundry" "Well if you need anything the next couple of days just hollar" You hang up the phone with brief goodbyes and run your fingers through your tangled bed head. You groan as you massage your temple. "What the fuck am I doing?? I'm catching feelings for Joel fucking Miller. What's worse is that I'm flirting with him too"

Against your better judgement you decide to text Joel later in the day Hey what time you get off tonight? I should be wrapping up by 7...Why? You want to swing by for dinner? Nothing fancy. I'm just bored and I don't love being here alone in the evenings for long periods of time lol. Well I ain't gonna turn you down for some dinner. I'll see you at 7:30. Can I pick anything up at the store for ya on my way there? Well if you're offering... maybe some ice cream? And a bottle of rosè You got it

The rest of the day went by slowly. 7:30 couldn't get here fast enough. You were hoping for something to happen tonight with Joel, but you weren't sure what that would be. You hadn't decided if the lingering glances from him were just something you were imagining or actually happening. Around 6:30 you decide to hope in the shower and of course shave...because you never know right? After your shower you settle on wearing a simple, linen dress that's super comfortable and not all that fancy.  At exactly 7:30 you hear the doorbell ring. You jump off the sofa to answer it, your heart in your throat. But when you open the door, you're afraid you might be sick. It's not Joel Miller who stands there, but your toxic ex boyfriend ...Ben.

"What the fuck are you doing? You need to leave" Ben smirks. "Aren't you a delight. I just wanted to talk to you, and since you've block my number I had to take matters into my hands." Your heart was racing. Ben had never shown any physical violence against you, but you didn't know what he was capable and you didn't want to find out. "I thought I made myself really fucking clear that we are over" you said with a shaky voice. "Baby I just don't think you get to make that call. I mean I've done so much to make this relationship work. You can't just throw all that away. You know you're never going to find another guy who puts up with your shit." That was it. Something in you snapped. Something that had been brewing for literally years was about to come out. "No fuck you!" You shoved him in the chest with both palms and he stumbled back just a step, caught off guard by your motion. "Screw you! I don't need a guy to put up with anything about me, you asshole. You act like you're some fucking hero for tolerating the fact that I struggle with my mental health and stuff!" Ben was fuming now. You had never laid hands on him and you could tell the shove had lit something inside him too. "You have issues you know that?! You have fucking issues in your head!" He screamed at you getting up in your face and grabbing your arms tightly, pinning them to your sides. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Joel's truck coming down the street and pulling into your drive way. Ben was now shaking you and yelling "YOU'RE SUCH A BITCH.." he didn't get to finish his sentence because a firm hand grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him backwards.

If looks could kill...you had never seen such an expression on Joel. He looked like he could tear Ben to pieces right then and there, yet he maintained a calm composure. "I suggest you get the fuck off this porch and don't come back, son" Joel said in a low voice. Ben scoffed. "Get out of here, old man. This ain't your business" Ben spat. "Son, we can do this the easy way or the hard way." Ben let his head fall back and let out a chuckle that sent a chill down your spine. "Is that so?" Without warning Ben threw a punch and Joel and narrowly missed "Ben!" You shrieked. Ben straightened up sent another punch. Joel grabbed his wrist, mid punch and yanked him in close. Joel towered over him. "Do not make me repeat myself again. I said get the fuck off this porch, or things will get ugly." At this Joel shoved Ben forcefully away, causing him to stumble backwards. Ben still looked angry, but now there was a hint of fear in his eyes too. He gave you one last glare and then jogged back to his car.

As soon as Ben's car sped off. Joel sun around. "Are you okay??" He asked, grabbing your face in his hands. "Um yeah" you managed to squeak. "I mean that fucking scared me tho." Joel looked like he might be sick. "I am so sorry wasn't here at 7:30. If I got here on time- " "Joel come on you don't need to do that. It's not like either of us had any idea Ben would show up here. I'm glad you came when you did though." Joel massaged the bridge of his nose. He looked stressed and was probably imaging what would have happened if he didn't show up at all. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to rid himself of the notion. "Joel look at me I'm fine!" You said pulling his hand away from his face. Joel took your hand in his and stroked it with his thumb. "Okay" he said softly. "Did you get my ice cream?" You said trying to change the subject. A smile tugged at his mouth. "Yeah I did, baby"

You had made spaghetti for dinner, about one of the only dishes you were confident in preparing. You and Joel sat at the table in silence and you watched as he pushed his food around. "I'm sorry I'm not a chef...if you want we could just order a pizza?" You suggested. Joel looked up at you seemingly caught off guard. "No no no it's not that! The meal is delicious. I guess I just don't have an appetite. That's all." You pushed back from the table and the chair scraping against the hardwood made Joel jump slightly. "Baby I didn't mean to offend you it's just" you laughed as you reached for the shelf above the stove "Joel I'm not mad I'm just looking for something." Joel slowly walked towards where you were balancing on a stool trying to get the top door of the cabinet open. "Um...what's that?" You grunted as you finally got hold of what it was you were looking for. "My dad's red wine. It's gross too me, but he always says red wine gives you an appetite." You hopped off the stool and thrust the bottle into his chest. "Where's the wine you got me? I would like to get into that like asap." Before waiting for a response you went into the other room where the grocery bag still sat with the ice cream and wine and dug out the bottle. You hastily removed the top and began drinking. "Y/n...slow down what are you doing?" You removed the bottle from your lips and wiped your mouth. "What does it look like I'm doing?" Joel's face was laced with concern. "Okay that's enough. I'm calling your dad, you can stay at mine until he gets home. I'm sure he'll book the first flight back when he hears.." you didn't let Joel finish. He had tried to grab the bottle from your hands "no, fuck off I'm a grown woman. I don't need you calling me dad to tell on me or whatever." Joel placed both hands in his hair and squeezed his head "sweetheart you're clearly not okay! And for good reason... will you just let me help you? I'm worried about you. This shit wasn't in any of the parenting books I read before Sarah.." "you're not my dad!" "No no I'm not saying that I just" ... "is that all this is? You want to fill the void of not having your daughter at home this summer. So you come over here to parent me because my dad's not here? I don't fucking need that Joel I don't want you to see me that way."

...to be continued

[lover-of-mine]

Can I submit for the buddie begins idea. Obviously it all starts in the kitchen. And maybe the back and fourth you guys are talking about is definitely the living room. But can we please have the Christopher r3lated stuff happen in there. Like Eddie sort of storms in there and vaguely gestures around. Look how weird we are, I made you gaurdian to my son 2 years after knowing you and didn't tell you for a year!!! It would be such validation for me as a viewer to get will acknowledgement!!!!

Okay, like, my plan is starting in the dining room actually, then you have Eddie run to the living room and then you have Buck chase Eddie into the kitchen. Love love LOVE living room to talk about Chris. Hear me out, we're mirroring situations. In my head, the buddie beings episode happens after one of them almost dies the episode before and it pushes Buck into action. I didn't have something specific in mind until @lesbianrobin made this post and I legit keep building my buddie begins fantasy on top of that situation. Read their post, it's incredible, but basically it suggests Eddie and Maddie in a situation and almost dying, Buck thinks he's gonna lose them both, somehow both of them make it out, but for a second when Buck sees Maddie, he thinks that means Eddie is dead, until he sees Eddie and rushes to him. So picking up from that. Don't make anything actually happen at the scene for whatever reason, like, end the episode with both of them hugging or whatever. I like this idea a lot because it makes the episode about madney too, so we're not forcing 2 episodes solely about buddie. Then we open the next episode the way I pitched the buddie begins episode, you start with Buck a bit frantic as he knocks on Eddie's door. At this point, we all know they're in love with each other and are just waiting, it's day time, Chris is at school. And we start the conversation in the dining room. Why the dining room? During Eddie's breakdown conversations happened there. So we have both of them sit down on the table to talk trauma backwards. The most recent thing, Eddie gets aggravated and starts talking about the lightning, all around those we are getting the flashbacks the way I had said to add some more context to scenes we already have. We reach the shooting. Shooting makes Buck bring up the will. Eddie then decides he can't hear Buck talk about the will as a backup plan or whatever and starts moving towards the living room where they talk about Buck's place in Chris' life. Why is that important to be in the living room? Eddie fights with Shannon about her place in Chris' life in the living room, that scene in 408 where Buck is babysitting? Living room. Eddie asking Buck to talk to Chris during 710? Living room, so your idea to keep Chris stuff there is genius. Again, all these are weaved with flashbacks to add new context to buddie moments, Buck keeps fighting about it "why did you hide it from me" and Eddie decides to run, so he goes down the hallway back into the kitchen and we get the last flashback, the one with Bobby telling Eddie about Buck while trying to poach him from station 6. We're back in the present, Buck is following Eddie into the kitchen, this is the first time they stop without something between them, through the whole thing keep something physically between them, the table, the couch, and we're in the kitchen now. The place of vulnerability. Where they listen to each other. Buck asks what does it all mean, Eddie is mumbling excuses. Buck gets tired and just says something kinda like "because it kinda sounds like you love me" and Eddie kinda looks like a deer caught in headlights "and I love you but you need to want this" Buck gets closer "do you want this?" they're close enough to touch "do you want me?" and then Eddie is reaching for Buck while nodding "yeah-i love you-just come here" and they are kissing. Bam, buddie is canon, history is made.

Yes, I've spent a ridiculous amount of time thinking about this kspakapakapkapaa I can see it so clearly. Come on 911, just hire me, I can do so much for the show.

[isa-ghost]

happy early borth use me as a vessel to infodump about your qphil headcanons immediately that’s an order >:D

This too-broad I Just Wanna Hear You Be Abnormal About Your Guy prompting thing is gonna become an inside joke between us I s2g

I think rather than hcs I'm gonna go on a rant about this sTUPID MOTHERFUCKERS WACK ASS BRAIN. YOU ARE YOUR OWN BIGGEST EMOTIONAL DETRIMENT, YKNOW THAT qPHILLIP MINECRAFT? GOD.

This entire thing applies to AMFMN Phil btw

That son of a bitch is such a MESS. He's so deep in his own bullshit he doesn't even see the times he contradicts himself or acts like a hypocrite.

He has to care for everyone (he feels obligated to as the Usually Oldest And Wisest + being constantly put into the paternal/caretaker role) but god forbid anyone takes care of him, even when he needs it most. When people take care of him he feels like he's failed somehow and he gets this not-quite ashamed or embarrassed feeling, but still Distinctly Uncomfortable And Awkward nonetheless.

He's like thousands of years old and has had more life experience to handle stress 100x heavier than "just a scratch" or "feeling a bit sad." He's spent decades just fucking around risking his life in hardcore mode, which puts near-constant strain on a person. Which has definitely warped his perception of what's too much for himself. He has a HUGE problem with being too critical of when something is or isn't Enough to be "worth" letting himself be upset or down for the count for a while. (In AMFMN he's going to be told straight up he Should Have Literally Died with how bad of shape he'll be in and that's the only reason besides his body being in literal physical shambles that he's going to remain bedridden during the recovery arc).

It's so foreign to him between his habitual isolation (hc life), rarely actually being taken down long-term by any threat, and his own evasion of being the one depending on someone that he just. He doesn't know what to do here. It's like putting socks on a dog and watching them try to walk all weird, he's like What The FUCK Is This?? How Do I Navigate This Situation?? He hates it.

Also survivalist brain hates feeling vulnerable in any way in general obviously, so that's another factor. But FUCK MAN sometimes you NEED to, it's HEALTHY even!! You dumb ass motherfucker!! Like yeah he'll cry, but not in like a Go To His Room And Let Himself Break A Little way, in a "these extremely stressful circumstances are actively happening/ongoing and it's overwhelming me so badly that I couldn't hold this back if I tried" way. Case in point: Ender King's initial arrival and how the kids couldn't see anything, or his actual possession and telling Lullah to flee.

Alternatively if something involves not him but his loved ones, THEN he'll cry. Assuming it's not something he can do anything about (bc then his default reaction is Pissed The Fuck Off and preparing to throw infinite hands). Case in point: the goodbye letters pre-Purgatory.

But generally speaking this idiot is SO BAD at emotional self-care and letting himself be the one looked after for a change, it feeds into a lot of his other flaws (ie: being strong all the time & how he pushes that on Chay). But like. It's not just done out of refusal due to stubbornness.

It's fucking tragic, honestly. He's spent So Long being this way, he just straight up genuinely doesn't know How to be in the reversed role. Like even if he Wanted to be, it's so beyond his comprehension now that he doesn't think he Can. And a shred of why he continues not to just Start is bc he knows deep down that there is SO MUCH shit he's bottled up and buried or ignored over time, esp ever since The Nightmare, that if he let himself stop being a brick wall he'd crumble for so long he doesn't know what he'd be like once he recovered, or if he would even bounce back properly. And he does NOT like the idea of being irreversibly fucked up by properly digesting the trauma and grief and stress he's been through over the last year.

He'd rather truck on and "keep it together for the kids." :)

[maukiki1-but-cringefail]

okay i probably would've asked more abt your bsb thoughts sooner except i got shy. but i'm going insane rn so i gotta ask.... your thoughts on zeo. bc when i watched v-force nearly 2 years ago the robot twist took me out for like an entire day and now i'm still insane about them. like it's ridiculous but also really fucked up when you think abt it. and if/when you get to the manga. well i haven't read most of it EXCEPT for volumes 7-9 and vol 9..... ough. manga zeo my also beloved. i think abt this kid and their fucked up ass dad so much

omg im gonna lose my mind i just spent so much time typing the anwser to this and tumblr just DELETED IT ARE YOU KIDDING ME😭 sigh okay ill do it again ig...

i read the manga+rising but the manga version of zeo didnt really stand out to me so im gonna talk about the anime version of him only.

The season hes in, v force, is notoriously fucking boring (i knew this before watching v force even though i stayed out of any info abt bsb to avoid spoilers AND i still knew, imagine that) its like an entire season of filler but the character who stands out the most is Zeo obviously. ozuma/ozma is there too but eh. standing out in v force isnt saying much considering its not really intresting but that doesnt mean i hate him. hes .. neat but i dont think about him a lot.

in the anime when they first started hinting at something being off with zeo (and learning who his father is) my IMMIDIATE guess was oh this guys some kind of lab experiment, ailen or a robot and i was right lol. i mean considering his fathers job it isnt hard to predict but it is a kids show🤷

what i thought the most in the finale fight was okay, so he wants to be human, my boy yearns for the flesh, but like.. why? i know he has zagarts dead sons memories inside of him but if hes human enough to live and not notice he was a robot whats so bad about being a machine??? (robot propoganda lmfao) . he talks like a human feels like a human walks like a human feels like a human.. the gang™️ points this out too. i think there shouldve been more physical indicators to this guy straight up being a machine.. so many cool shit u can do with a ROBOT BLADER HELLOOOO ... ??? like do u have any problem in ur system or did u just not notice?? also how long has he been a robot? i feel like i needed more explanation on the dead son thing. yall couldnt take all those pointless boring episodes of those npc dudes trying to steal the sacred beasts and give it to zeo's backstory? what happened to this child? how long has he been a robot? when how which who which colour how many??2?2? was the original child also mint haired lmao? -also his hair colour is rll nice ^^

but yeah i think hes neat and probably the best character in his season.. i think his design is decent too, atleast the one w the white-ish outfit

oh and also this shit was raw as FUCK

[ya-killin-me-smalls]

A while ago you made some Deimos x Teammate headcanons, and they were all absolutely WONDERFUL

Would it be possible to get some Hank x Teammate headcanons? 👀

absolutely!!

headcanons under the cut

2BHank:

obviously gotta start with these two, respect for the elderly and all that

- divorced but it's complicated

- they started out as roommates while Doc was in college and Hank, unbeknownst to Doc at the time, was just getting started at being a menace to society

- they were close. a little too close. but nothing ever came of it aside from a mutual pining

- when Doc began working for the Agency/Nexus it drew a hard line between them. both believed they were doing what was right and that the other was a lost cause

- it turned into a physical fight and Hank did in fact leave Doc for dead

- he got better dw

- fast forward a few years, Doc has swapped sides and is incapable of admitting he was wrong

- Hank is not even a little bit sorry because in his mind it was deserved at the time

- they're different people now though and they both know that. the past is in the past. the world keeps turning

- their relationship has moved beyond platonic since but it's still complicated. they don't have the luxury of deep "what are we" conversations or quality time spent together unless Hank is injured

- regardless, Hank spends whatever downtime he does have in Doc's personal space. he's the type of guy that will just loom over you silently while you're working and patiently wait for Doc to pay attention to him

- Doc still keeps things professional for the sake of professionalism. his guard is only ever truly down when they've retired for the night and he can give Hank every drop of attention he craves

- Hank finds physical touch grounding so on days when his head is a mess and all his thoughts sound like they're underwater, he'll drape himself over Doc's shoulders and try to map out the sensation of him for a while

- "Wimbleton" is as close to a pet name as Doc will ever get. if he uses Hank's first name it's usually when he's mad/annoyed

- Hank doesn't necessarily bite Doc but he's got this weird form of cute aggression that makes him want to put his teeth on him

Hankmos:

yeah I already did this in the last post so what

- their first meeting was the equivalent of finding a wet kitten at the scene of a car accident

- Deimos hadn't yet made a name for himself but was well on his way, torching every stitch of AAHW property he could get his hands on (pyrokinesis Deimos my beloved)

- Hank was sent to raid a cloning facility when it happened. the entire place had gone up in flames and was little more than smoldering debris by the time he got there. he was there to kill everything that moved so of course he had to parse through said debris for any survivors

- what he found was a scrawny fucked up little dude passed out at the center of it all, completely unharmed, the only sign he'd been involved in the fire being the singed remains of his clothes

- interesting enough for Hank to not kill him despite being visibly a clone. instead he wraps Deimos's tiny ass up in his trenchcoat and brings him back to base

- Deimos still wears said trenchcoat because he's a fanboy and nothing will change that

- which also means he glues himself to Hank's hip from day one, not being a nuisance but always in the vicinity, tags along on whatever missions he can, asks Hank to train him in CQB

- and of course Hank grows fond of Deimos. how could he not? his rambling is pleasant background noise that helps keep Hank in the moment, he has a nice smile and laughs a lot, and it doesn't take long for him to become a worthy opponent for Hank

- a lot of their communication is done through body language and micro-expressions. Hank is incredibly perceptive of those subtle shifts and for Deimos it comes naturally

- Deimos goes out of his way to impress Hank. whether that means making stupid jokes to try and get a laugh out of him or showing off on the battlefield at every opportunity, his efforts know no bounds. it makes his heart flutter in a weird way whenever he gets those little signals of approval

- neither is keen on eye contact which works out perfectly, Hank because of the 'tism and Deimos because it feels like someone is trying to square up

- I feel like romantic cannibalism in the literal sense but as a metaphor would suit them so well. there's so much want between them and it's like they can't ever satisfy it. simply touching isn't enough. they need to grab. they need to hold. they need to squeeze. they could become each other and it still wouldn't be enough

- on the outside they play it cool for the most part obviously but the tension is always there. everyone can feel it

Hankford:

woefully underappreciated

- these two have the same vibe and demo and soldier tbh

- Sanford's whole thing is blowing shit up and setting things on fire

- Hank's thing is killing people in increasingly dramatic and violent ways

- combine the two, what more could you want out of a ship

- most of their initial bonding happens over explosions and combat tactics, as well as the inherently homoerotic act of patching each other up during battle

- after a particularly high risk/high reward mission, standing amongst the rubble of what was once a weapons factory and still high on adrenaline and dopamine, Sanford grabs Hank by the lapels of his coat and kisses him

- oh to make out with someone in the aftermath of an explosion

- these two lack a balancing factor. neither needs to be protected by the other. neither has ever been chill a day in their life. both are itching to destroy something at any given moment. they hype each other up and egg on every OSHA violation in the book

- Hank does feel protective towards Sanford because that's just in his nature, but he doesn't feel like he needs to hover or have eyes on him constantly. Sanford has dragged his sorry bleeding ass out of trouble more than once, after all

- Sanford is the king of PDA and they have to establish pretty early on that Hank isn't comfortable with others seeing that much of his private life. holding hands is as far as it goes if others are around

- alone? Sanford can't keep his hands to himself. his favorite thing is to dip Hank when he least expects it just to make him blush

- Hank isn't sure how to reciprocate at first. his hands are meant for crushing and tearing and Sanford is so gentle and tender. it's a learning curve and the way his hands shake when he's excited doesn't help

- they work it out over time together though, Sanford making an effort to lead affection and letting Hank sort out what he likes along the way

- Sanford is Hank's weighted blanket I take no criticism on this

- Sanford calls Hank "Doll". Hank incorrectly interprets this as sarcasm because he can't imagine someone associating him with something delicate or cute

- neither of them is allowed anywhere near the kitchen. not because they can't cook but because neither of them has any impulse control and the microwave will be blown up "for science"

- Sanford, ever observant and a little obsessive, begins mapping out Hank's behaviors and mental state as best as he can. he isn't surprised that Hank is a little fucked up, but there's a lot more going on in their than expected. and Hank, uncharacteristically, does open up to Sanford about the dissociation and memory problems

- Hank has outlawed the word babygirl because it makes him flustered angry

[frystsnow]

hcs i wanna expand on sometime soon AKA yeah i Am going to turn into a masterlist of my brainrot portrayal:

sexuality; asexual (or maybe just extremely grayromantic) human jack and how he wasn’t really interested in the prospect of courting during his time period. how that changes and transforms now that he’s a spirit and to really make a distinction how much spirit jack craves affection so much more as a consequence of his loneliness

i have an hc stashed somewhere that human jack - if he did somehow survive - does enter a loveless marriage and he holds his first kid and he has never loved anything more ever since so that’s one thing! which is an interesting contrast as well to spirit jack who would be wildly averse of it. spirit jack and human jack really are such different people i love exploring it sm

related to the topic above points, i’ve also been contemplating how spirit jack would feel about sex and sexuality in general? i think he's a sex-posivite asexual too and part of that is a consequence of him having having a complicated relationship with touch. wanting it and knowing the harm he can cause (or at least is what he tells himself) AND doubting his own corporeality? shit sucks. does he crave it so badly, or is he of firmer belief that he can actively harm others because he is winter personified?

spirit anatomy and longevity. slow and nearly nonexistent heartbeats, gelid touch, a vessel that moreso seems to mimic human systems than actively being one. he doesn’t need any human necessities to survive because he’s. well. dead. all the more reason to believe he doesn’t exist as a person because if he cannot need something the average human does, then is he existing at all? and most importantly connected to this, when did jack realize he was immortal while humans remained fleeting and obsolete? why does he live? why does he persevere in a world that refuses him? ugdhgdhghdgdfg

not sure if this would still be connected to the above or its own hc but i do wanna explore how much influence jack has over the physical reality. like he can pass through people and obviously make contact with inanimate objects, but it also seems he can touch sleeping figures (re: sophie) despite nonbelievers not being able to see his shadow. like How Much of him exists to those without the eyes to believe? (here!)

empathy empathy empathy. i want to talk about his big heart, to touch on why he shed tears for a guardian who died despite his initial animosity to them all. to explain the horror and disbelief on his expression seeing pitch black—someone he obviously saw as an antagonist, who also wanted to be believed in but whose ideals jack could not support because it would harm others—dragged into a hole in the ground. how, despite his irresponsibilities, his isolation, his fears, jack frost has remained with a good heart for 300 years. you’re made of love itself. (here!)

niche quirks! learning different language in his lifespan, how he talks to himself (here!) and how the wind (who i also hc to be a sentient spirit of many) eventually returned his call, fashion choices over the years, fun stuff like that!

(edit @ 4/18/2025) i have come in the fucking building again:

very little faith in himself, outright saying he's not a guardian and irresponsible when he's shown obvious care for kids and means them well. looks like it's a symptom of him not knowing who he is and years spent alone. there's so much he's learned in the last 300 years but all he still sees in himself is someone reckless and awful to have deserved punishment like solitude

the spirits definitely do know each other, jack is best acquainted with sandy and then bunny, he's never met tooth until the events of the movie and i imagine the same for north as well. and imo thats so much more cruel, there are spirits across the globe but it seems they all prefer to be in their own realms and regions, none of them have bothered to get to know each other and especially a newborn spirit like jack

how fuckin strong is jack frost?? when he unleashed his ice against pitch (who JUST absorbed sandy's dreamsand and it was at its rawest and most unfiltered state imo) even the guardians looked shocked he could do that, that jack and an upcoming guardian was capable of doing that. pitch considered him a THREAT and had to eliminate him from the equation at all costs. ADDTL POST-MOVIE COMMENT: this is a strength jcak is only discovering 300 years after his birth. he'll still need control over it and to home it but with enough time (which he has plenty of) he will be so much more powerful than he is during the events of the movie

something something the lake he died in never thawed and his hometown think its cursed. which is probably right. that's his home!!

[jamneuromain]

Jam, in honor to the song I was just listening I propose a battle for our reader.

😠 + 😉 with Andy VS Steve. Steve was your first love, Andy is your current amazing love. Fight fight fight (not physical obviously lol🥊!

hmmm.... It's such a tough call! But since Andy is your current amazing love, I rule for-

Ugh I hate ex-bf being all gloating and smug when you meet again

Not Him

Previous Steve Rogers x You; Andy Barber x You

Warning: Ex-Steve, Reader is in her late 20s, Andy a few years older than reader (but not mentioned specifically). None?

Summary: You met someone unexpected, your ex, Steve, on your way to your class. What's the worst that could happen? Answer: Andy happened.

A/N: Hiya! Sorry it took so long to get it out :( I've been clearing my draftbox as best as I can.

Someone called out your name behind your back, and you instinctively snapped your head in that direction.

Blonde, built, and that smile-

"Oh, Steve. Hi." You instantly recognized the man from your past.

You met Steve when you attended high school. While he was the famous football quarterback for the school team, you were practically nobody, and if it weren't for a class you shared, you wouldn't even know each other in your separate lives.

One thing led to another, and you became high school sweethearts, before breaking up a few months later.

"Hey." He jogged up to you. That sunshine-dazzling smile nearly splitting his face in two, "It's been... what, ten years? Wow..." He exclaims, carefully observing you from head to toe.

"Yeah, I mean, I haven't seen you since ... the prom?" You casually switched the pile in your hand to the other, smoothing your T-shirt.

Oh yes, the high school prom where you had two dances before he spent the whole night with the pretty British girl with a posh accent. What's her name? Petra? Penny? Next day, your phone was blasted with Instagram notifications telling you from all aspects and angles how they kissed as Prom King and Queen. Not that you didn't know it already, when you were there, under the stage.

"You-uh heading somewhere?" He pointed at your stack of papers, teasing ever so slightly, "I've seen you still not giving up on studying, huh?"

"Well, I-"

"I'm working as a coach now," He interrupted before you could finish your sentence, flashing his team jacket before your eyes, even tapping on the chest where the team name is visible to any man within eight feet if they weren't complete blind.

"Wow." You nodded, playing along, "Uni team, impressive."

Too bad you were never a decent sports fan that could share Steve's enthusiasm as to which legendary figure saved the day with a ball in their hands - nor did you find being a coach "impressive" ... or intrigued, for that matter, because being in front of glamouring Steve fucking Rogers made you shrink back to your high school self-image again: a small, inconspicuous, socially unidentifiable shadow of a being that you could barely recognize. And yet, the contrast between Steve and you reminded you every single time, that you do not belong to a world of his, a world where books and glasses are symbols of "nerds" or "geeks" and are perfectly fine to make fun of, a world where if you don't like sports - or not being a potential athlete, you should be eliminated in every social context.

"Yup." He popped the "p" with his full lips, "If you want the tickets next season-" Steve pointed towards himself with both thumbs, the lop-sided smile made him look smug as ever, "This guy is your go-to-guy."

More like your never-go-to guy. You scoffed, adjusting your expression to a small smile as soon as he turned his focus on you, "Sorry, I think I need to head to my next class."

"C'mon-" Steve dragged his tone almost annoyingly, "Skip it. Don't you have some time for me, for old time's sake?"

You could have ten more minutes for him before the next class. But you didn't want to. Which was the point.

"Hey, honey." Came a voice behind your back, startling you just a little. An arm draped around your shoulders, squishing you into a familiar embrace, "I've been calling."

You let out a sigh of relief. More so when the owner of this familiar voice took the stack of papers from your arms into his own, and rubbed your sore arm for having to hold the pile for quite a while.

"Sorry." You apologized to your beloved boyfriend Andy, "I must've silenced my phone during the class."

" 's okay." Andy pressed a kiss to your temple, whispering, "Wanted to ask you about lunch anyway. Nothing important." Andy slowly moved his eyes away from yours, and acted as if he had just seen Steve, a 6-foot man who appeared out of nowhere, "Who do we have here? Honey, would you mind introducing?"

"Sure. This is my ex, Steve, from high school. Steve, this is Andy, my boyfriend."

The moment the word "ex" escaped from your lips, you became aware instantly that your boyfriend had entered his suit mode, every available muscle tensing up in his body, and like a good huntsman, ready to strike when he sees the glimpse of a failure of his opponent. Where you hoped that "high school" from your introduction would calm his nerves, it certainly achieved the opposite when you heard your boyfriend say: "Oh..." in a thoughtful way, "the quarterback-captain, am I right?" as he extended his hand to shake Steve's.

Yup. It definitely made Andy slightly on edge.

"I'm part of the coaching team on campus, actually." Steve flashed his identity proudly before Andy, shaking Andy's hand in an equally firm grip, "Go Falcons."

"Oh..." said Andy again, more thoughtfully, "I'm a professor here in the Law School - You wouldn't happen to be the coach assistant of Karl?"

This just turned more competitive than you would think. Yet, it did bring a tinge of amusement when Andy confirmed your suspicion that Steve was too young to be made a coach, while the position of coach assistant was for brainless jocks who did all the dirty work coaches didn't want to, the heavy-lifting and paperworks, for instance.

"Well," Steve sneered, "I thought dating a student was improper conduct, Professor."

"Excuse me?" Andy raised his brows. So did you.

"You heard me." Steve nodded towards you, "Her, a student, obviously. It would be a great unfortunate if the dean might hear about such a rumour somewhere, wouldn't it?"

He said almost challengingly.

Wow. Typical Steve as ever. The girl he dated after prom, the British girl, was rumoured to have had a bad break-up previously. According to gossip that ran in the school bathroom, the British girl was told that her ex was cheating - which turned out to be a false alarm, but they broke up anyway.

Now you guessed you knew who was the little birdie that shared the false information with that poor girl.

Andy snorted out laughter. The corner of his lips could barely contain themselves as he struggled to keep a straight face, "Marvelous." Andy clapped - more like tapping his palm with the other hand, before asking for your permission, "Should you do this or should I?"

You scoffed. Really scoffed in front of the glorious quarterback that you liked a decade ago, "For your information, Steve, I'm working as a lecturer at this university. So, go start your devious little plan elsewhere. If you don't mind, I have a class to teach - C'mon, Andy."

You dragged Andy by his arm and led him out of the battlefield.

"Nice." Andy commented, not bothering to look back at his opponent, with a pleasing grin that was probably going to mold on his face for all eternity. "Did you see the look on that guy's face? Spectacular. So proud of you, Honey."

"Yeah, not my best moment having to face a dickhead-ex." You huffed out, "Jesus, why didn't I know he was that big of a jerk when I started dating him?"

"I know," Andy said, sympathetically, "Don't worry though, I noticed that your choice of man has had a significant change for the better."

You shot him a dirty glare, which Andy took, feigning he just got hit on the chest.

"Sorry, no joking, got it." Andy made a pained face which caused you to involuntarily grin. Quickly abandoning the idea of the ex in his mind, Andy finally returned to the topic for which he came to find you, "What's for lunch again? Cafeteria?"

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