#so that might partially explain... whatever this is

[tarantulovely]

It could at least partially be an issue of copyright, since Herbert West is a character from the 1920's and thus in the public domain, while Dan Cain was a character created for the movie... But then, that doesn't really explain why Dr. Hill gets to be in a bunch of merch since he's also a movie original.

Beyond that, I can think of two likely possibilities:

Personality Rights: i.e., Bruce Abbott never agreed to let merchandisers use his likeness for figures, shirts, comics, etc. Or was never even asked in the first place. This sort of thing has affected merch based on live action characters before, like the Ghostbusters' character designs being significantly changed from their original actors' likenesses for The Real Ghostbusters cartoon, or Giselle from Enchanted not being permanently added to the Disney Princess lineup so Amy Adams wouldn't get likeness royalties.

No one's thought to do it before. Now I can't say any of this for certain because I'm only 28 and first saw Re-Animator like 2 years ago, but it does feel to me like "the Re-Animator fandom" changed a lot around 2020 or so. That is to say, when most people talked about the movies, it was usually about Herbert West himself, Jeffrey Combs' performance, the gore, the special effects, That Scene, you know. Dan's always been largely overshadowed by Herbert as the "everyman" character, and "everyman" characters don't tend to get figures made of them. Nowadays though, there's a lot more focus on Dan, both individually as a character, and regarding his relationship with Herbert (particularly, how that relationship may be interpreted... 😏).

Whatever the reason may be, I totally agree with you, I'd love some official Dan merch! I was actually just thinking about it the other day after I bought a heart-shaped Army of Darkness pin, about how much I'd love a pin of Dan and/or Herbert for my jacket.

You know, Jeffrey and Bruce are going to be guests at Creep I.E. Con in Ontario, California from January 31st to February 2nd. This might be an interesting topic to ask them about, especially Bruce. Anyone going?

something that annoys me so much with re-animator merch (mainly officially licensed stuff) is that there's no Dan. no NECA Dan, no toony terrors Dan. no Monstarz Dan, but Hill gets FOUR HEADS in that same set?!?!? there's like no t-shirts of him, no Fright Rags stuff of him except for some of the 2017 cards. no middle of beyond stuff, no pins, WHERE IS HE!?!?

[bredforloyalty]

well not every shift is good it took me a while but i have taken notice of this

[bright-and-burning]

alright . we at 3.6k rn . i can’t remember if i took out my little notes to self that i rewrote or not so that number might in actuality be way lower. looking at my laptop was doing my brain in but writing on my phone i think might also do my brain in? but not writing at all will definitely also do my brain in. eternal struggle

[winter-spark]

I notice that even though Citron's my fave, I spend more time here talking about Orange and Navel.

I think it's fear of being wrong.

[kotoku]

Could I request Dr Ratio, Aven, and Sunday (separately) with a partner who calls them edible as a weird form of compliment? Like “awww you look so cute and edible!”

And maybe they sometimes bite him, not hard enough to hurt but just enough to be uncomfortable

Please and thank ya!

ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ, ᴀᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀɪɴᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀ ʀᴀᴛɪᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ꜱ/ᴏ ᴡʜᴏ ᴄᴀʟʟꜱ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴇᴅɪʙʟᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴍᴇɴᴛ

pairings - sunday x reader / aventurine x reader / dr ratio x reader

content - reader is gender-neutral/ established relationship/ reader has their own way of expressing their affection lol

warnings - none

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

“Aww you look so cute and edible!”

“Edible? Is this in reference to my wings being called chicken wings?” 

↻ Sunday has literally no idea what you are talking about but he appreciates the compliment

↻ Whenever you call him ‘edible’ he just gives you a smile and says thank you, continuing on with his business

↻ At one point he would probably ask his sister what it means to be called ‘edible’, getting a laugh and a not so helpful description in response

↺ He’d probably ask the Trailblazer about it since they seem on par with your slang (boomer Sunday lol)

↻ Sometimes you’ll randomly bite him, especially on his wings which always get a extreme reaction from him 

↺ He can’t tell whether he likes it or is uncomfortable with it, nonetheless he politely advises you to bite anywhere else besides his wings (he might experiment on that later in private)

↻ Like your ‘edible’ comment, he’ll find your biting a little weird but dismisses it as your way of showing that you adore him (maybe it’s some sort of mating ritual? who knows)

↻ If you call him ‘edible’ or bite him in public, he freezes– how is he going to explain this!? 

↺ He probably has numerous of bite marks on his skin from you, not like you bit too hard for it to hurt but it was definitely hard enough to leave a mark (he gets flustered everytime he looks at them, desperately trying to cover them up before leaving the house)

↺ If someone says something about it, he’ll shrug it off and say that’s how you show your affection for him, giving them a look that urges them to not talk about it any longer

“I’m cute and edible? Thanks, you’re cute and edible too, _____.”

↻ Aventurine partially understands what you mean

↻ He’ll call you ‘edible’ as well as a little joke, giving you a playful smile

↻ Honestly, Aventurine would take the ‘edible’ compliment as something suggestive, calling you ‘edible’ with a knowing look in his eyes as you burn up underneath his gaze

“Not in that way, Aven!”

↻ Aventurine lets you call him whatever you want as long as it’s nothing too extreme, especially if it’s in a public setting

↺ However, being called ‘edible’ isn’t inherently a bad thing to be called so he just shrugs and lets you call him that

↻ I can imagine him buying some sort of pastry/cake of himself to live up to that compliment of yours

“See ____, I’m literally edible now.”

↻ If you bit Aventurine as a way of showing your affection, he’d do the same to you without any shame

↺ The fucker would do it in public too, right in front of his subordinates or coworkers

↻ You’d mainly bite his forearm, cheek, or neck (right on his tattoo), which always elicits a reaction out of him

↺ Sometimes it would leave marks and he wouldn’t even bother covering them up, in fact, he’d display it with pride

“Oh this? My partner gave it to me, that’s how they show their affection.”

↻ He couldn’t give two shits about what anyone has to say about them

↻ The bites you give him are a not that uncomfortable, he’d probably like the feeling a lot (masochist -_-)

“Edible? _____, you can't eat me. That would be known as cannibalism, which is frowned upon in most places.”

↻ Veritas has no clue what the fuck you are talking about.

↻ Edible? What do you mean he’s edible?? Are you planning on eating him???

↻ He just stares at you to see if you’re joking, but you’re not, so he massages his temples as he gives you a disappointed sigh

“Out of all the compliments you could’ve given me, you chose to call me ‘edible’.”

↻ He respects your effort and appreciates the compliment though, never giving it a second thought if you call him that again

↻ Honestly, Veritas would probably do some research on what it means, taking it a tad bit far

↺ Is it something the people on your planet did? Was it a courting thing? 

↺ You’d have to reassure him that it’s just a compliment you came up with and that it just means you love him a lot (spoiler alert: he doesn’t believe you for a second and thinks there’s a hidden meaning behind it)

↻ Watching him invest his time into this compliment is something that both intrigues and worries you, but you let him go until it gets too far

↻ If you bit him as a way of showing your affection, he’d probably go down a whole ‘nother rabbit hole about its meaning

↻ If your biting left some marks on him, he’d cover them up to the best of his ability

↺ If someone noticed them, he would immediately glare at them, effectively preventing them from talking about it

“Not a word.”

↻ You probably like biting his biceps lol

↻ If you bit hard enough to where it was uncomfortable, he’d probably politely tell you to stop and that if you’re going to perform your weird mating ritual, you need to bite softer

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

[foone]

Tumblr crashed and killed my post and I'm too lazy to go find what I was reblogging, but:

You need to understand that there is a type of right-wing person who is (relatively) sex positive.

You need to understand this because it explains some "contradictions" but more importantly so that you won't assume someone isn't wildly right wing just because they're sex-positive. These people still have horribly opinions on a lot of things, including sexual ones. They just don't think it's Inherently Wrong to do "weird stuff" in the bedroom.

I always describe this viewpoint as "it's okay to get freaky, but don't be a freak".

They're making a distinction between things you DO and things you ARE. They hate the latter, and think the former is fine.

This is a big part of why you get "confusing" things like right-wingers who are against trans people but those same people might enjoy crossdressing during sex. They're fine with wearing girls clothes while they get pegged, but don't think you should be allowed to go by she/her in the workplace if you're AMAB. Crossdressing is a thing you do. Being trans is something you are.

And the post I was trying to reply to was about swingers disliking polyamorous people: it's the same thing. Swinging is a thing you do: they're having freaky sex. What's wrong with that?

But polyamory? Having multiple partners at the same time, even when you're not fucking at the moment? That sounds like something you are.

Basically it seems to be the worldview of people who are sex-positive (to an extent! I don't want to overstate their positivity) in their personal life, but are against "the decay of society".

They're basically conservatives nostalgic for an imagined world where everyone has 1950s social roles in public, but can get up to whatever weird sex stuff they want behind closed doors.

I don't know how much this kind of few point is due to libertarian influence on these kinds of right wingers (where they've internalized the "the government shouldn't tell me what to do" part of the ideology, but still think "the government should tell those weirdos to get cut it out" is fine), or how much this is because of the rise of 4chan as an alt-right meeting spot, and that site was (and still is) partially a porn site.

It's slightly hard to argue that all sex besides married missionary for procreation is immoral when you're one click away from threads full of anal-toy-howtos and pregnant "dickgirl" hentai. (Not that they don't try, sometimes)

Just keep the fact that these people exist in mind: it'll better explain some of the strange opinions you sometimes see online.

It's probably also a major driving force behind Bidoof's law. They can easily argue against something innocuous like polyamory or trans people while filling their own timeline to with images of trans orgies, because they think Doing Sex Stuff is morally neutral, but Being Stuff is inherently wrong. You can cross dress or swing, that's fine, whatever gets your rocks off. But you can't be trans or be poly. That's wrong, apparently.

(This is probably also South Park's fault but I'm not an expert on that show so I'll not try to explain)

[lotties-ashwagandha]

THE FIRST TO BREAK

agatha harkness x reader x rio vidal

NSFW! when they can’t decide who indulges you more, agatha and rio find a way to settle it in competition. based on this ask i got. 1.3k words. i might have written this at 7am (that’s my excuse if it’s bad <3).

Rio’s arms rest looped around your waist as you stand at the stove. Her head rests on your shoulder as she watches you work, as you pour herbs and spices into a pot —you got up early, stalking through the kitchen to create something to prevent the illnesses that will be coming with winter soon. You use your witchcraft in the way of herbs, a potion witch as they would call you.

“You don’t need any of this,” Rio whispers. She watches you stir, and her arms around you grow tighter. “I’m not taking you from illness.”

You smile softly. You’ve tried to explain to her before that it’s not just about life and death, but discomfort — how much life resembles the gleaming, shifting ideal of thriving. She is still learning, it’s a concept too human for what is ancient, for Death.

“You’re going to keep her alive forever,” Agatha’s voice rings out into the gentle silence of the kitchen as she speaks to Rio. You turn slightly in Rio’s grasp to look over at her, and as she pours a coffee for herself Agatha raises her eyebrows at you accusingly. “Don’t break my favoritism streak.”

You shake your head. “I’ll try.”

Rio rolls her eyes. She steps away from you, leaning against the kitchen island behind her as she turns to Agatha. “If one of us is treating her with favoritism, it’s not me.”

“Really? That’s a stretch. How do I treat her with favoritism?”

Leaving the contents on the stove to simmer, you turn to watch them argue over you. It is playful, but still endearing, because you know they both treat you with favoritism.

“You answer to whatever she wants,” Rio says, like it’s obvious. “Even when she doesn’t ask, you’re always giving.”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“No. Stealing diamond earrings and a diamond bracelet in the same week from a shopkeeper you threatened to kill is a little much though, isn’t it?”

Agatha is quiet for a moment, taking a sip of her coffee. She drinks out of a black mug Rio got her, wears a dark blue robe Rio bought her, wears a wedding ring Rio proposed to her with. You don’t think you are the one being shown partiality.

Agatha sets the mug down and looks at you. “What do you think?”

You didn’t think it had been worth bickering over. They had disagreed. Now as you lay on the bed with your hands tied all you want is for them to show you favor, to fuck you until they forget the petty competition they have created between them.

Two of Rio’s fingers slide into you as she takes advantage of her turn. The rules of their competition are simple: whoever lets you come first loses. You’re working up to the third time being edged, this is Rio’s second time on you and Agatha has only edged you once.

It was Agatha’s plan to make Rio go first, and now you can see why, because in the way she’s fucking you so greedily now with her fingers and in the low moans she lets slip as she sucks bruises onto your chest you can tell Rio will be the first to break. She wants to let you come as bad as you need it, her black nails digging into your hips as her free hand presses against you in a reminder to stay still.

“Look at her,” Agatha says, speaking to Rio as if you couldn’t hear, you were something to admire. “Doesn’t she deserve to come? She’s so beautiful for us like this.”

Rio lets out a frustrated breath, accusatory glance shifting to Agatha, who takes advantage of her proximity and pulls her into a kiss. You watch them above you, one of Agatha’s hands drifting to your breasts as she sits at your side. She’s trying hard to do anything she can to make Rio let you come.

Rio notices Agatha’s wandering touch. She pulls out of the kiss, pulling Agatha’s hand away from your breasts and replacing it with her mouth. The sensation elicits a gasp from you, and your back arches into the sensation of her tongue licking across one of your nipples.

“She’s so close,” Agatha whispers into Rio’s ear. She watches you with the same hunger in Rio’s eyes as she keeps fucking you with her fingers. “Think about how perfect she would look for you, how it would feel to have her—”

Just as you reach the edge of your orgasm, Rio pulls her hands from you. She compensates with kissing you — it’s not enough, though, and you can’t help but whine into the kiss. You need her touch, or Agatha’s, something to soothe the need growing in you so sharply.

When you pull away and look at Agatha, a conflicted expression occupies her features. You know she wants to give you an orgasm, but she also wants to win. As she takes Rio’s place and settles herself between your legs, head dipping down to kiss your thighs, you can see it — that there’s nothing she wants more right now than to feel you come on her tongue.

When Rio kisses you from beside you, Agatha delivers a sharp slap to the outside of your thigh. You tense, startled out of the kiss.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Agatha’s tone is demanding as she addresses Rio, who looks back at her with unbothered pride.

“I’m playing by your rules. You want to taunt me during my turn? It has to be even.”

“It will be even when I win,” Agatha says, and you’re overcome with the sensation of her tongue dragging through you. Your hands pull at the restraints above you to no avail. You want to reach down and weave your hands in her hair, or pull Rio closer to you as she watches.

Agatha runs her tongue over your clit. She does it harder, moaning against you when your legs begin to tremble on either side of her head. It’s almost painful how good it feels to have her tongue dipping inside of you and back up to your clit. With Rio’s lips crashing back into yours you can feel yourself slowly building into another orgasm — this time you need it.

“Please,” you beg breathlessly, hands pulling the restraints again. “You win, both of you can win…”

“Agatha,” Rio taunts beside you. She watches as Agatha draws you closer and closer to the edge — she watches when Agatha pulls away.

Yet when Agatha pulls away it’s not to let Rio take her place, but to slide two fingers into you and reposition herself so she can kiss you. You taste yourself on her tongue and a moan escapes you.

“Come for me, baby, give it to me,” Agatha murmurs. Your body responds immediately, any restraint you’ve tried to keep snaps as white-hot euphoria rushes over you. Agatha fucks you through it, fingers buried deep in you as she guides you through your orgasm. Vaguely you’re able to process Rio beside you as well with one of her hands between her legs — she’s gone with you, at the sight of you and Agatha.

Agatha kisses you again as you come down from it. You hear Rio breathing heavily beside you, and then Agatha is pulled away from you again so that Rio can kiss her. When they part, Rio looks into her eyes. “You fucking lose.”

“And you’re the one that got off on it.”

A smile makes its way to your lips. Playfully Rio shakes her head at you, Agatha moving to lay on your other side so that you’re sandwiched between them while Rio undoes the restraints on your wrists. You pull your hands down.

Laying down with them, Rio rests her head on her chest and loops an arm around your waist. Agatha holds her hand, and in their embrace you are enveloped by their love. There is no winner amongst you — the victory is shared.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Engines and Affections

Pairing: Poly 141 x Assistant!reader

AU: Mechanic 141

Warning: fluff, the boys are a bit touchy

Authors note: I hope yall enjoy, it’s not poly until about half way through. I had to change a lot of this because it was similar to someone’s post that they posted so this is the newer one

Word Count: 2.2k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The air at Price’s Auto Garage buzzed with the sound of engines and tools, the usual symphony of work that set the place alive each day. Price, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost moved around the garage with quiet confidence, focused on their tasks. They were the best at what they did, hands skilled and practiced, but the front desk? It was a mess. Calls went unanswered, invoices piled up, and the schedule was a puzzle no one had time to piece together. Price finally decided they needed help at the front.

The moment you walked in for the interview, they noticed.

You stood in the doorway, posture relaxed, radiating a confident smile as you scanned the space. Even though garages weren't exactly familiar territory, you weren’t about to let that show. Price gave you a welcoming nod, gesturing you inside, while Soap looked you over with a smirk, already leaning against a toolbox. Gaz offered a warm smile, while Ghost stood off to the side, arms crossed, as unreadable as ever.

Price glanced through your resume with a quick nod, but it was clear they’d made up their minds as soon as you walked in. A few questions later, and the job was yours.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the midst of the garage’s organized chaos. The phone rang constantly, schedules made only partial sense, and sometimes, the invoices looked like a language of their own. You tried your best to keep up, but this was a whole new world.

“Ah, I think… these are for you?” You handed Price a stack of papers one morning, hesitating when his eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“Love, these are last week’s invoices.” Price held back a chuckle, his eyes kind even as he gently corrected you. “I’ll show you how we sort ’em out, alright?”

His large hands guided yours through the stacks, showing you the little tricks they used to keep things organized. He took his time, explaining everything patiently, his voice low and calm as he brushed your shoulder every now and then. By the end of it, you had a better grasp—sort of.

Soap, however, took a different approach. Every few hours, he’d call you over, pulling you away from your desk to check out whatever project he was working on.

“Oi, lass, come look at this,” he called out one afternoon, grinning as he waved you over to the car he was working on.

You tried to seem interested, leaning in as he explained the engine in detail, even though the terms were lost on you. Your confidence started slipping as he talked about pistons, valves, and all kinds of parts you’d never heard of, but you nodded along, pretending to understand.

“See this part here?” He pointed, smirking as you leaned in closer, glancing from him to the engine.

“Oh, yeah! The… thing,” you managed, biting back a laugh when he rolled his eyes, grinning even wider.

“You’ve no idea what I’m on about, do ya?” He chuckled, nudging you playfully with his elbow. “Don’t worry, lass, I’ll teach ya everything I know. Might just take a bit.”

Despite your confusion, his excitement was infectious, and you found yourself laughing along, even if you still didn’t understand a word.

Gaz was the one who always made sure you felt comfortable, sensing when you were a bit overwhelmed. Every morning, he’d bring you a coffee, setting it on your desk with a small smile.

“To keep you sharp,” he said with a wink, and you’d thank him, feeling a little less lost in the unfamiliar world of auto repairs.

One afternoon, as you struggled with the printer again, Gaz appeared by your side. He’d noticed your mounting frustration and stepped in without a word, reaching over to press a few buttons with expert ease.

“Here, let me show you.” His hand rested on yours as he guided you through the steps, his voice soft and patient. You felt his presence close beside you, his attention entirely on helping you, and your nerves calmed as you finally figured out the tricky machine.

“You’re getting it,” he said with an approving nod, his fingers brushing yours for a moment longer before he stepped back, a quiet sense of pride in his smile.

Ghost, meanwhile, kept his distance—until you made a mistake too big for him to ignore. One evening, you’d accidentally given the wrong keys to a customer, causing a brief mix-up in the garage. Ghost’s expression was steely as he came over to you, clearly unimpressed.

“These keys belong to the truck in the back,” he said, his tone gruff but calm as he held them out to you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just—” You stammered, caught off guard by the intensity in his gaze.

He took a slow breath, running a hand over his face before meeting your eyes again. “Just double-check before you hand ’em out next time, alright?”

You nodded, cheeks flushed, but Ghost’s expression softened almost imperceptibly when he noticed your nervousness. Later, he quietly came over, placing the keys in their correct spots while you watched, making sure you’d gotten it right.

“Just remember,” he said, his voice low, “no rush. Take your time.” And with a small nod, he returned to his work, his rare show of patience lingering with you.

---

One rainy evening, as you prepared to leave, you stood by the door, staring at the downpour. You’d forgotten your jacket, and with the way the rain was coming down, you’d be soaked in minutes.

Ghost was passing by, his eyes flicking between you and the rain outside. He let out a sigh, already pulling out his keys. “Come on. I’ll drive you.”

Surprised, you followed him to his truck, slipping into the passenger seat as he climbed in. The ride was quiet but comfortable, the steady rhythm of the rain filling the silence. His presence was somehow reassuring, and you found yourself relaxing, even sneaking a few glances at him as he drove.

“Thanks for this,” you murmured as he pulled up to your place, his gaze still fixed forward.

He gave a small nod, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just get yourself a jacket next time.” But the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, and you knew he didn’t mind.

After that night, you’d started to find your rhythm in the garage. The guys were quick to help when you needed it, and slowly, you felt like part of the team. The way they each looked out for you in their own way brought you a quiet sense of belonging that you hadn’t expected, making the unfamiliar chaos of the garage feel like somewhere you could finally call home.

——

Over the next few months, the garage became more than just a workplace—it became a second home. The guys were always there, whether to lend a hand, share a laugh, or tease you about some new mistake. You noticed how each of them had their own way of making sure you were taken care of. And somewhere along the way, your small, shared moments with each of them started to feel… different.

Price became more attentive, stopping by your desk to chat with you about your day, his warm gaze lingering a moment too long. Soap’s teasing got softer, almost affectionate, his laughs filled with genuine happiness when he saw you smile. Gaz made a habit of bringing you coffee every morning, but now he’d stay a little longer, brushing your hand as he passed the cup, his gaze lingering on your lips. Even Ghost, usually distant, had become gentler, staying around the garage a little longer just to make sure you got home safe.

The four men started to notice each other’s shifts in behavior too. What was once harmless camaraderie and teamwork started to feel like an unspoken rivalry, each of them vying for more of your attention. Eventually, it reached a tipping point, and one late night at the garage, they decided to address it head-on.

“Alright, lads,” Price began, crossing his arms as he looked at the others. “It’s about her, isn’t it?”

Soap scoffed, trying to brush it off. “You mean the way you get all soft whenever she’s around?” he said, though there was no real bite to his tone.

Gaz chuckled, running a hand over the back of his neck. “We all know it’s not just Price. Let’s be honest with ourselves here.”

Ghost, silent as ever, watched the others, his gaze thoughtful. “You’re not wrong,” he admitted, his voice low but steady. “Guess we’ve all got feelings for her. Question is, what’re we gonna do about it?”

They sat in silence for a moment, each processing the quiet admission that their feelings ran deeper than simple friendship. Price broke the silence, his voice firm yet understanding.

“We’re not just co-workers; we’re a team,” he said. “So, if we’re all on the same page about her, then maybe it’s time we tell her.”

A few days later, the four of them gathered the courage to bring up the subject with you. It was the end of a long workday, and you were about to head home when Price called you over, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

As you walked into the main garage, the four of them stood there, exchanging glances as if silently confirming that this was the right moment. You felt your heart race, sensing that whatever was about to happen was important.

Price cleared his throat, his usual steady demeanor softening as he looked at you. “We, uh… have something we need to talk to you about. All of us.”

Confused, you looked between them, giving a small nod. “Okay, I’m listening.”

They each took turns explaining, their words stumbling a little at first but then gaining confidence as they shared their feelings. Price told you how much he admired your kindness and resilience, how you made the garage feel like home. Soap shared how much he loved making you laugh, how your presence was the highlight of his day. Gaz spoke of his protective instincts, how he felt compelled to make you happy. Even Ghost, usually guarded, admitted in his own quiet way that he’d come to care about you deeply.

It was overwhelming but touching, hearing each of them express feelings that you hadn’t dared to think might be mutual. Finally, Price looked at you, his eyes searching yours with a question that didn’t need words.

“Would you be open to… to something with all of us?” he asked gently.

It took a moment for you to process what they were asking, but as you looked at each of them, you realized that the idea didn’t scare you—in fact, it felt right.

“I… I would be,” you admitted, smiling as their tense expressions melted into ones of relief and happiness.

From that point on, your relationships with them grew deeper and more intimate. You shared quiet mornings with Gaz, who’d bring you coffee and pull you close, his arm around you as you eased into the day together. Soap’s playful teasing turned more flirtatious, his laughter warm as he’d brush your hair back, stealing little kisses when no one was looking. Price had a way of grounding you, his strong arms always there to wrap around you at the end of a long day, pressing soft, lingering kisses to your forehead that made you feel safe. And Ghost, though still reserved, became more open, offering a gentle touch here and there, his presence comforting in a way that words couldn’t quite describe.

One evening, after closing up shop, you found yourself nestled between them on the worn leather couch in the break room. Gaz leaned close, his hand tracing gentle patterns on your back, while Soap’s arm draped across your shoulders, pulling you close as he whispered jokes in your ear, his voice warm and soft. Price sat at your side, his hand resting on your knee, thumb drawing small circles as he met your gaze with a soft smile, his eyes filled with a quiet understanding.

And Ghost, ever the silent observer, brushed a gentle hand over your shoulder, his fingers lingering at your neck. You felt their affection surrounding you, each of them bringing their own unique warmth and comfort, and you knew that this—this closeness, this shared connection—was something rare, something to be cherished.

Over time, your moments together grew more intimate. The nights you spent with them were full of whispered words and gentle touches, each one of them showing their love in their own way. Soap’s playful nature softened, his teasing replaced with gentle affection as he held you close, his laughter quiet as he stroked your hair. Gaz would pull you into his lap, his hands warm against your back as he kissed you deeply, his eyes filled with warmth as he traced his thumb over your cheek. Price, always steady, would hold you close, his presence reassuring as he kissed you with a softness that made you feel cherished, his voice low as he murmured words of love.

And Ghost, though still quieter than the others, would sit beside you, his fingers brushing over yours, his touch reverent as he watched you with a gaze that spoke volumes. When he held you, it was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he couldn’t believe you were there with him.

In these shared moments, you found a kind of love and connection that you’d never known. Together, you formed a bond stronger than any you’d ever imagined, a family bound by love and trust. And in their arms, surrounded by their warmth, you knew you’d found a home, one where you were loved wholly and completely by each of them.

Hope you enjoyed! Please follow, like and Reblog💜 -Midnight’s Cafe

[shares-a-vest]

I feel like over the past week and a half, I have been any given one of the trio in this ficlet. So yeah, I'm projecting onto my blorbos. Enjoy!

Eddie can sense Steve isn't in bed when he blinks awake. It's still dark out and the apartment is freezing. Well, Eddie is freezing without the furnace-like warmth of his boyfriend curled into his side.

He looks over at Steve's nightstand to find that the alarm clock only reads a little past 3am and that's when he begins to panic. It's nowhere near time for Steve's early morning run, nor is it a reasonable enough hour that he might be pottering about in the living room.

So, Eddie hops out of bed and is immediately hit by the winter chill of the two-bed apartment he and Steve share with Robin.

He shivers as he walks into the hallway, where he finds the apartment still shrouded in an icy darkness. He chances a peek into Robin's room, where he finds his housemate sound asleep and snoring, lying in the middle of her bed and certainly without the company of her best friend.

Steve has nightmares – hell, the three of them do. But Steve usually ends up with Robin if the situation arises.

Eddie continues on, now tucking his hands under his armpits, hugging himself as he dips his chin into the loosened neck-hole of his oversized sweater – a maroon-coloured former Harrington Classic.

He tiptoes along so as not to disturb Robin, almost sliding his socks along the floorboards as he makes his way into the living area, his path illuminated by outside street lamps.

Eddie tsks under his breath when he comes across Steve, curled in on himself as he lays soundly asleep on the couch, his nail bat close by on the floor.

Steve hums, or more shivers – visibly freezing as he sleeps in nothing more than an old pair of gym shorts whose material Eddie suspects might evaporate the next time they find themselves in one of the building's shoddy washing machines.

He sits by his boyfriend's side and places a hand on Steve's shoulder, desperate to stir him enough to coax him back to bed, but not spook him entirely.

"Sweetheart," he stage-whispers as Steve grumbles.

"Hmm?" he murmurs before startling awake. His eyes snap to attention and he looks up at Eddie as he speaks full volume, his voice groggy, "I heard a noise."

Steve rubs at his arms, the iciness of their surroundings hitting him now that he is (at least, partially) conscious.

"Love, I need you to come back to bed, it's freezing out here."

"But, I heard a noise," Steve whines, sitting up now.

Eddie can't help it, he presses his palm to Steve's cheek and his heart skips a beat at just how cold he feels.

"Shit," he curses and loops his arm around Steve's middle, commanding, "Bed, now."

Steve grumbles, but complies, lazily reaching for his bat before they both stand up as one. Eddie takes his boyfriend's weight, the bat dragging along by Steve's side as they shuffle back towards their bedroom.

Steve shivers and continues mumbling something about the noise he heard. And Eddie can't tell if it was an actual noise or something heard in that strange (and admittedly, scary) space between wake and sleep. Whatever it is, Steve seems both frightened and stubborn all in one.

He shudders again and Eddie can't bring himself to bite his tongue any longer.

"Baby, why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

Typically, he'd be all over Steve in such a state of undress – with all that hair and muscle. But right now, his arms are peppered with goosebumps and his eyes are starting to droop with every step.

"Got hot before," Steve explains, weary.

They pass by Robin's bedroom and the door opens fully, revealing a duvet-covered mass and in the darkness, Eddie can still spot a frown.

"What's going on?" she asks, voice like gravel but nonetheless worried.

"I heard a noise, Robbie."

His tone pains Eddie from his heart down to his gut and the same must happen to Robin too because, in an instant, she retreats to her room in haste.

Eddie continues on to his and Steve's bedroom and gently lowers Steve onto the edge of the bed before he takes the baseball bat. He makes a show of rolling it back under the bed but Steve isn't watching. Instead, his boyfriend is looking over at Robin, who has reappeared, cradling a handful of items and hunching her shoulders in a feeble attempt to keep some kind of hold on her blanket.

Eddie flicks on the bedside lamp and crosses her as he heads off in search of a sweater. He rifles through a drawer and listens on to what sounds like Robin crowding the nightstand with her stuff before she swishes about the excess bedding. Steve whines and Eddie turns back to find Robin with her arm around her best friend.

"Alright," Eddie says, holding out a navy sweater, "Time for bed."

He gestures for Steve to lift his arms up and he complies. It takes a moment, but Eddie wrestles the near-dead weight of Steve into a cozy sweater before he lifts his legs to help him into bed.

"In the middle, Dingus," Robin instructs, "And don't snore."

"How about, you don't fart," Steve quips, shuffling into the middle nonetheless.

There's a bitchy lilt to Steve's voice that has Eddie relaxing a little. He rolls his eyes, thinking the pair burrowing under the covers will probably bicker on. But honestly, he'd prefer that to the balled-up, half-naked, scared Steve he found out in the living room.

Eddie exchanges a glance with Robin before she reaches for the nightstand and grabs a hot water bottle, her Walkman, a notepad and a pencil.

"What the hell are you doing?" Eddie grouses, rounding his side of the bed – thankful to slip back under the covers.

But he pauses mid-way, distracted now as Robin juggles with her wears.

"I need my things," she grumbles as she places the hot water bottle on her stomach and dry sobs, "Oh no, it has gone cold!"

Steve rolls his eyes in Robin's direction, more sleepily than annoyed.

"Eddie, go get some hot water," he mumble-commands, turning to snuggle in close to his best friend.

"What?"

"Eddie..."

"Fine," he reaches for the hot water bottle and snatches it from Robin's grasp.

Eddie thinks he must love his boyfriend a lot, considering how he freezes his ass off to a doubled-over, teeth-chattering level in the several minutes it takes for their stupid kettle to warm up. And by the time he gets back to the bedroom, Robin is quietly snoring with Steve tucked into her side, the two of them forming a single hair-filled mass of platonic soulmatedness.

Eddie tucks the hot water bottle under Robin's covers as best he can and resumes his spot, giggling at the thought of the inevitable drool that is going to make its way into Steve's hair at some point. He snuggles in behind Steve, forming a cocoon around him and his boyfriend snuffles at the touch.

"It's okay, Stevie," he says, kissing him just behind the ear, "Get some sleep. Don't think about the noise. You're safe here with me and Rob."

"What about my ba –"

"It's back under the bed, sweetheart," Steve hums at that, relaxing against him, "We'll figure out the noise in the morning, I promise."

"'Kay," Steve breathes more than speaks as sleep overcomes him, "Love... you."

"I won't let anything hurt you, Steve," Eddie says, hugging him tight.

[cutielando]

family | r.c.

synopsis: in which you give Rafe everything he has wished for

my masterlist

Ever since he was young, Rafe had always dreamed of having a family. His wife, his children that he would raise whatever way he saw fit with his partner by his side. He wanted it all.

Growing up, he came to the conclusion that he would never have that. Who would want to love someone as damaged as him? Not even his family loved him, he couldn’t expect a stranger to do so. It would be completely unfair.

Meeting you had been Rafe’s lifeline from the very beginning. He couldn’t explain it, but he knew, from the moment you had first spoken to each other, that he would end up marrying you.

To some people, it might seem rash, or completely unrealistic. How could you think that you would be spending the rest of your life with someone you had known for such a short amount of time? Some even called Rafe delusional.

But he had been right in the end.

You saw Rafe for so much more than his family was making him believe about himself. He had so much potential to become such a great human being, a great CEO for his family’s business, an amazing partner and a reliable friend. He had all the qualities to be amazing, he was just being let down by his own family who didn’t believe he was worth any trouble. A fact which completely broke your heart.

You had vowed to yourself that you wouldn’t let his family dictate his life any longer, that you would not let them bring him down and make him think less of himself. You would show him just how much life had to offer and how much better off he would be without their control over him.

Rafe knew he had to get out. He would never have got better if he were to remain to live under the same roof as them or even be in the same place as them.

Which was partially the reason why the two of you moved in together on the mainland, not even 6 months after your relationship had officially started. Many of your friends thought it was too soon, that you hadn’t thought things through and were just acting up. Typical things coming from entitled teenagers.

Nothing about your relationship was ordinary. The circumstances in which the two of you had met, the very beginning of your relationship with each other, your interactions with his family and especially his father, your mutual decision to help Rafe escape from the toxic environment he had grown accustomed to. Unique circumstances, as your boyfriend had liked putting it.

Those exact circumstances were the reason why Rafe proposed to you on your 1 year anniversary dinner. He hadn’t told anyone he would be doing it, making sure you didn’t suspect anything that would ruin his surprise.

The wedding ceremony had been the one to go down in history books. You’d decided to go all out, inviting every last one of your friends, both of your families, a lot of people from the island, new friends you had made since the two of you moved, wanting the people you loved close to you on that special day.

Rafe had been skeptical of inviting his family at first, very familiar with the way his father made it his life’s mission to make his son’s life a living hell with any occasion.

Luckily, thanks to Rose, that hadn’t been the case at all. You didn’t even know he was there, that’s how quiet and invisible he had made himself out to be.

Being married to Rafe was amazing. You both had stable jobs, but you still made time for each other every single day. He would always bring you something when he would come home, either a bouquet of your favorite flowers, or some kind of jewelry that he had seen on the way home and made him think of you.

Everything was perfect.

But there was just something missing. Something both of you had been thinking about but didn’t have the courage to bring it up until one night.

A child.

“Baby?” Rafe had called out to you one night while you were doing your night routine.

“Yes?” you called out from the bathroom.

“Can we talk about something once you’re done?” his words made you a little bit nervous, figuring it had to be something important.

“Of course” you called back, now suddenly in a hurry to finish your skincare.

Nerves were gnawing at your chest, making all kinds of thoughts run through your head. Deep down, you knew you had no reason to be scared or anything like that. At the end of the day, it was Rafe you were talking about. Your sweet, sweet husband.

You walked back into your shared bedroom, noticing Rafe sitting in the middle of the bed under the covers, playing with his hands which rested on his lap.

Getting in next to him and cuddling with the mountain of blankets you slept with, you smiled at him, which he reciprocated but his smile didn’t meet his eyes.

“What did you want to talk about?” you asked, taking his hand in yours once you realized just how nervous he was.

He cleared his throat, turning around so he was completely facing you.

“I’ve been thinking lately, we’ve got a very stable lifestyle, you know? We both have good jobs, we really have a lot of money, we have a nice and big house, we have friends who support us, we’re doing really well, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked, making you nod. “I was thinking about it, and you can totally say no and I would completely understand if you think it would be too soon. But what do you thinking about starting to try for a baby?” by the time he had asked the question, his hands were shaking even more so than they were before.

You were shocked, to say the least. You had been toying around with the idea in your head as well, but you were skeptical of bringing it up because you had just got married, you didn’t want to pressure Rafe into having a kid just yet.

As it turned out, he had been doing the exact same thing.

“I think it’s time we started trying for a baby” you whispered, biting your lip once you saw how his eyes lit up.

“You do? You’re not just saying that for my sake?” he whispered, wanting to make sure you were truly on the same page about this.

You shook your head, smiling at him fondly.

“Truth to be told, I’ve been thinking about bringing up having children ever since our honeymoon ended, but I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to have a kid right away. Turns out I’ve been worrying in vain all this time” you chuckled, taking a hold of one of his hands.

Rafe chuckled alongside you and let out a big breath, feeling relief slowly taking over his body.

Silence fell over the room, you and your husband communicating through your eyes. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of you, an agreement that it was time for your family to get bigger, that you were more than ready to take this step together.

That you were ready to embark on yet another adventure.

Said adventure proved to come much quicker than the both of you were expecting.

After not even a month since you’d had that discussion and agreed that you would start trying for a baby, the blue stick that you had purchased at the pharmacy had shown a + sign, marking the beginning of your journey towards parenthood.

Telling Rafe had been your favorite part. You had gone out to the store and bought a little onesie and baby socks, deciding to put them in a small gift box along with the positive test you had taken.

When Rafe came home and discovered the gift, he burst out crying, sinking down to his knees and pressing kisses on your stomach, repeatedly thanking you for giving him such a huge blessing to love and care for.

For giving him a family.

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[foxstens]

i have so many thoughts on why it seems like kevin's experience after leaving the nest was different. my main thought being that we just don't get to see it. neil joins the foxes months after kevin does and in the beginning he only interacts with kevin during practice, so that explains part of it.

in son nefes we only see kevin as he relates to exy or andrew (lmao). but also kevin spent his first month or so with wymack, so whatever might have been there we simply don't get to see. the extra content says that he only took his coat and wallet when he left the nest, and that in his first few months he struggled with missing his team, his inability to play, and with doubting his decision to leave.

kevin also spent longer than jean in the nest, timeline-wise it seems to have been closer to a decade, and if 5 years was enough to make jean forget the previous 14... sure, kevin was afforded slightly more decencies than jean - he had a car (who knows how often he got to use it), he had to travel for press reasons, and he had more clothes i guess. but taking it all into account we have no reason to assume it was easy for him.

but we just don't see a lot of kevin's struggles period. we don't see his thoughts we don't see all the ways in which his trauma manifests we don't see what other coping mechanisms he has besides drinking. the night training could partially be that but again. we don't know.

[kujousgf]

EVERLONG. mdni. 18+.

dream girl evil universe

pairing: rockstar!natasha romanoff + yelena's best friend!reader

summary: you hadn't expected yelena's natasha to be the natasha

warnings: fluff, partial smut, light angst for like a second, top!natasha, bottom!reader, really they're just very sweet

wc: 2.5k

You freeze in the kitchen of Yelena’s apartment, seeing a redhead that you don’t recognize sitting on the couch in the living room. You briefly wonder if Yelena had had a breakdown and dyed her hair without telling you. That would explain today’s radio silence even though usually your phone was blowing up asking when you would finally be done with your classes and come make her dinner. It was Monday night and usually you’d come over to Yelena’s apartment to make dinner and watch whatever movie Yelena chose. Sometimes her girlfriend Kate would come over, but Yelena liked to keep Monday nights for ‘best friend time’ as she liked to call it. You hesitantly hang your bag on the hook by the door and close it behind you. Hopefully you didn’t just close yourself in with a serial killer or something. 

At the sound of the door closing, the redhead turns her head and your jaw almost drops when you make eye contact. Natasha Romanoff is sitting in Yelena’s living room. 

What the hell is Natasha Romanoff doing sitting in Yelena’s living room? 

The redhead is the lead guitarist and singer in what most magazines and articles are calling ‘one of the most popular female rock bands in the past twenty years.’ Even if someone doesn’t know Spellbound’s music, they’d know Natasha. She’s recently been a hot topic of the internet, having been caught on video punching one of her bandmate, Wanda’s, exes in the face after they wouldn’t stop harassing her. The video spread like wildfire, most people on Natasha’s side and other’s calling her a bitch, saying she shouldn’t get involved. You, of course, were on Natasha’s side. 

She doesn’t seem at all concerned, just raises an eyebrow at the continued silence when you don’t say anything. “You’re not Yelena.” Is what you say, lamely, when you can finally get your brain to connect to your vocal chords. “Not the last time I checked, no. As far as I can tell neither are you.” 

“It’s Monday night.” You say as if that would be any explanation at all as to why you’re in Yelena’s apartment. Natasha stands from the couch, putting the bottle of beer she was drinking down on Yelena’s coffee table. “Right,” she nods in agreement, “but that doesn’t explain what you’re doing in my sister’s apartment.” You almost choke on your own spit at Natasha’s words. Yelena’s Natasha was the Natasha? 

As if to save you from whatever wrath the redhead was going to unleash on you for being a stranger in her sister’s apartment, Yelena emerges from her bedroom. “Y/N! It’s nice of you to finally make it. I thought maybe a traffic monster had swallowed you up.” You were five minutes later than usual and she was acting like it was the end of the world, typical. Natasha is momentarily forgotten as you roll your eyes at your best friend's words. “Hi, Y/N. So nice to see you, Y/N. I’m so sorry I was a ghost today, Y/N.” You mock her playfully, ready to give her an earful for making you think she might have died today before Natasha clears her throat.

“Big sisters don’t get introductions anymore?”

It was easy to get over your initial starstruck feeling after the first couple of days that Natasha stayed with Yelena. You learned that there was a two week long break between legs of the tour and Natasha decided she wanted to come visit her sister. With no prior notice, of course, because that’s just how Natasha does things. It really didn’t take long for you to feel comfortable around her and although she had been skeptical to let herself fully relax around you, even if she didn’t show it, she eventually did. You found that you enjoyed being around her and even found yourself hanging around Yelena’s apartment even when she wasn’t there just so you could spend time with Natasha. 

And Natasha enjoyed spending time with you. She didn’t show it, much like she didn’t show most emotions that weren’t surface level, but she was excited to finally meet the famous Y/N Yelena would always rave about for the past however many years when they spoke on the phone. She would always regret not coming to visit more often, but she wouldn’t trade her current life for anything even if it meant time spent with Yelena was over the phone more often than not. She could make up for it in other ways, hopefully her sister felt the same. 

It was the last day of Natasha’s two week visit and you were both sitting on the cargo bed of her rental truck. It was parked in the grassy parking area near the picnic area of one of New York’s many state parks. It was nearly deserted save for a few families, August wasn’t exactly peak tourist season in this part of New York. You were waiting for Yelena to arrive with Kate, the blonde finally deciding that now would be a good time for Natasha to meet her girlfriend. Of course she waited until the day before Natasha left. 

You’re leaning into Natasha, your legs dangling off the edge of the cargo bed, kicking back and forth lightly. She’s leaning on one hand and letting you play with her fingers on the other. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to admit it out loud, but she will miss you when she’s gone. She hadn’t planned on growing so close to you and she’s never had a problem with being detached before, but something about you just draws her in. If she could stay here, with you leaning against her and the gentle breeze against her skin, she would. It’s a dangerous thought, she knows it is, but she wonders if you’d wait for her to come back. Whenever that is. 

The mixture of Natasha’s perfume and the nature around you is comforting and you don’t want anything to burst the little bubble of comfort you and Natasha have created for yourselves. “Is it bad that I don’t want you to go?” You ask quietly, hoping if you don’t say it too loud then the question won’t hold as many emotions as you know it does. Natasha doesn’t respond for a few seconds, trying to come up with an answer that won’t make you upset but also won’t give you any false hope. “You could always come to one of my shows.” Is what she settles for, but the sigh she gets in response isn’t what she wanted. 

“You know I can’t.” Your legs stop kicking and you let the warm breeze brush against them as it blows past. Natasha squeezes your hand, “I know.” She’s about to say something else, but the honk of a horn interrupts her and you practically jump off of the truck, a startled curse falling from your lips as you whip your head around. You groan when you see Yelena’s car and turn to bury your face in Natasha’s shoulder, previous feelings seemingly forgotten, “Your sister’s an asshole.”

Natasha laughs, reaching up to run a hand through your hair, the feeling much too familiar. It makes a pit form in her stomach, but she pushes it down. “It runs in the family. Now, come on. I have to go all big sister on this Kate girl.” She pats your shoulder and waits for you to pull away from her before getting down from the truck. She almost walks away, but thinks better of it, instead turning to help you down as well. There’s no reason to pull away, she reminds herself, you two are just friends. Friends who have spent the past couple of nights cuddled together on Yelena’s couch while watching movies, but still, just friends. 

You both hear two car doors shut and then Yelena’s voice, “Sestra! Come meet Kate!” and then much quieter, Kate’s nervous one, “Babe, I really think maybe we should just go back. I mean she’s already met Y/N, so maybe I’ll be next time.”

Surprisingly, you’re able to stop Natasha from scaring Kate too much, but she still puts the fear of God into the brunette, promising something awful if she were to ever break her sister’s heart. Of course Kate swears she would never do anything like that and then goes on a nervous rant about how she was totally on Natasha’s side when it came to punching that guy.

The rest of the afternoon goes smoothly, you all had a good time and you almost completely forgot that Natasha would be leaving tomorrow. Until you didn’t. You had been sleeping over at Yelena’s apartment the past couple of nights and tonight was no different, wanting to see Natasha off when she left. Like a good friend would. Because that’s what you were. Friends. 

Natasha had claimed she was going to stay up all night so that when she got on the bus in the morning, she’d be able to sleep through the long drive to the hotel in Indiana. You gave some lame excuse to hide wanting to spend more time with her as a reason why you’d stay up with her. Yelena had gone to sleep long ago and you were starting to get a little sleepy, but you weren’t going to give up now. You looked at your phone to check the time: 2:46am. 

You were in a similar position to earlier, except instead of a truck bed you were sitting on the couch with your legs curled up next to you as you leaned into Natasha. “Y/N?” Natasha whispers into the quiet of the living room, the only sound besides her voice being the quiet murmur from the tv. You hum in response, eyes trained on the scene being shown on the tv screen. You were watching reruns of one of your favorite shows and although Natasha wasn’t all that interested, she’d let you keep it on. 

“Y/N.” She says slightly louder and you sit up in confusion, looking around to see if maybe you’d missed something. You furrow your eyebrows when everything is the same as it was before, “what?” Natasha looks like she wants to say something, but she hesitates slightly. “Nevermind. Sorry, I thought I saw something.”

“Nat, seriously, what?” You’re beyond confused now and a little too tired to understand the emotions in Natasha’s eyes the way you usually would. It’s a split second decision, but the resolve she’s been trying to build up for the past few days has been effectively crumbled and the question that’s been on the tip of her tongue since you asked if it was bad you wanted her to stay finally escapes her lips, “can I kiss you?”

It takes you a second to register the fact that she actually wants to kiss you, but as soon as you do you’re nodding your head. She surges forward, cupping your cheeks and pressing her lips against yours. Your eyes flutter shut and you grab at her shirt, trying to tug her closer as your lips move against each other. Her tongue slides against your bottom lip and you gasp. She takes the opportunity to push her tongue into your mouth, exploring it. There’s no real fight for dominance, you let Natasha take the lead entirely. 

You tug her down as you lay back on the couch and she shifts slightly so that she can straddle your hips, one of her hands tangling in your hair. Eventually she has to pull away for air and she’s glad she does with the way you struggle to breathe properly, fists clutching her shirt. Your breathing is labored and she would find it cute had she not realized you were sacrificing breathing just to kiss her. She almost wants to scold you for it. 

She rubs her thumb across your cheek as she looks down at you. She really shouldn’t be doing this, not before she has to leave, and especially not in Yelena’s living room, but she doesn’t know if she really cares right now. “I’m going to kiss you again, okay?”

“Please.” You nod desperately, tugging her back down and meeting her lips halfway. This kiss is much more heated and messy, the both of you more desperate for each other than you already were. Natasha bites down on your bottom lip and you moan softly, arching up into her. Her smirk breaks the kiss and you almost whine, but it’s almost like she can read your mind because she’s immediately shushing you and pressing her lips to yours again. 

Your hands slide under her shirt to grip at her waist and pull her closer to you, desperately wanting to feel her against you. The way you’re kissing is almost feverish, the both of you so desperate that you feel if you don’t consume the other it may be your demise. Natasha pulls away to quickly pull her shirt off and discard it on the floor and if you weren’t so desperate to have her lips on yours again, you would have taken more time to admire her abs. 

When she leans back down to meet your lips in another frenzied kiss, she doesn’t even take the time to pull your shirt off entirely, merely pushes it up and over your breasts, her hands finding purchase on the soft skin of your waist before traveling up. She groans at the way your body reacts to her and the little whine you let out when she slides her fingertips over the cups of your bra. 

When she pulls away again you try to catch your breath, feeling a little lightheaded from having Natasha like this. She’s leaning over you, hands cupping your cheeks as her thumb rubs soothingly across one of them. “If we keep going, I’m not going to be able to stop.” She laughs lightly, the look on your face telling her that very much wouldn’t be a problem. “But I don’t think this is the right place for that, doll. Another time, alright?”

The rest of the night is spent with Natasha whispering sweet nothings to you as you fall in and out of sleep, trying your best to stay awake with her. She promises to come back soon, even though she doesn’t know when soon will be, and that she’ll text you when she can and set aside time to call, and would you like that? Eventually, you succumb to sleep and Natasha has to slip away without a proper goodbye. She’d tried to wake you, you can’t fault her for that one. And if Yelena noticed you wearing Natasha’s shirt while you were asleep on the couch, she didn’t say anything. 

-

“I hope you guys don’t mind us playing something new.” Natasha’s words are met with loud cheers and she smirks softly, “it’s a song I wrote recently and we haven’t had a chance to play it for anyone yet so we figured why not, right? It’s called Everlong. I hope you guys like it.” She looks behind her and nods to Carol who starts the drum beat.

“Hello

I’ve waited here for you

Everlong”

[amelizscribbles]

OK, EXPLAINING DABIS SCARRING because @good-lord-not-books asked

*note these are just my hcs and some medical research

I'm putting this under a cut because it's long as hell, and I apologize in advance for any typos or if it's confusing. I have no problem explaining further♡

His scars are hypertrophic. which 1) explains the discoloration. It's what happens when the smaller blood vessels become partially or fully obstructed with scar tissue. They typcially start off pinkish or light red. (like when he woke up from his coma.)

Typically the treatment for this is laser removal. But if you don't have access the color may naturally shift with age/as it natueally heals. But with continuous damage to the areas.. the scar will get darker as the veins and tissue is further injured (the deeper into the skin and possible muscle it damages)

most hyrpertophic scarring can take a year + to heal. but obviously Dabi just keeps making his worse. The scars themselves are cause by the body over producing collagen for wound healing and not actually being able to break all of it down.

Which leaves collagen fibers in the skin to harden and thicken. Hardened skin doesn't allow much give, lessening the skins elasticity over all. Which can be shown in the way his unscarred skin pulls along the edges where the dermal rings line said scars. (my thoughts on his staples acrually being dermal rings will be at the end)

That's not even going into the nerve damage systemically for him considering hes covered in that kind of scar. So when he says he can't feel a thing it's literal as the nerve endings are shot to shit. And that is only going into skin deep level.

Interal organ nerve damage is a whole other mess due to the scaringbeing from burns. As severe enough burns cause systemic damage. (will also go into atfer the scarring part)

His skin looks TIGHT on him. If he did have and semblance of sensation in his nerves it might feel like hella tight/dry skin. Also I think hypertrophic scars are an inflammation response to the body healing.

His body is literally misshapen from it. (and yes we love him the way he is) You can see in panels where the skin is probably softer where there's lack of muscle definition but can see where it's tighter or pulling over his arms/ shoulders/ribcage because the skins elasticity is non-existent. The instances where it's sifter looking is probably due to his body trying to retain as much body fat it can to keep healthy (or as healthy as it's going to get in his state.)

As far as it going right up to his lower lids and having zero tear ducts. that man has chronic dry eye like it's nobodies business. so itchy and possibly bleeding eyes isn't a shock. he probably has several counts of grand larceny in artificial tears alone.

Ok so as for his scaring being from burns, burns affect the whole body and how it works depending on the severity.

It can effect muscle tissue/muscle mass, bone structure and interior organs.

Given he seems to be perpetually giving himself 3rd degree + burns .. his respiratory system and cardiovascular system are probably shot to shit. Just from smoke inhalation and perpetual injury. (hypertrophic scars fill the veins with scar tissue remember) Assuming how deep the burn and scar tissue goes.

But we haven't seen him with much breathing issues so I'm assuming it's whatever. He has mentioned motion sickness and we've even seen him turning down food. So I can at least go into it's affects on his GI tract.

In the GI tract, burns can result in increased gastric secretions, reduced intestinal motility, decreased nutrient absorption, increased GI mucosal permeability, bacterial translocation and increased intra-abdominal pressure. If it's bad enough he may have ulcers or gi hemorrhaging. Severe burns also cause liver and intestinal damage.

The fact that he's been alive this long is wild if he's been homeless this whole time and just committing small crimes to not die. One thing that irritates me is when people think he would be incredibly unhygienic due to the scars and such.

Like do you understand how CLEAN you have to keep burn injuries to keep them from getting infected?? Even if it's layered over already damaged and scarred skin. He might smell like burnt flesh but I doubt he's letting wounds fester.

Yes he could probably just cauterize himself but that's still just burning burn wounds. Especially with 0% health insurance. I always assumed he kept breaking into the Todoroki family home when he knew no one would be there to do basic things to make sure he didn't die on the street over the years.

Quick add on to my thoughts on his staples just being dermal rings to homd his skin together/as a form of human Kinstugi.

They (the rings) are pretty rounded in the manga, surgical staples aren't nearly that large either so I always assumed human Kinstugi regardless of metal color (between manga gold or anime silver) and it was both decorative and necessary for his skin.

I just assumed wherever the rings weren't, it was just spots he couldn't reach.

it's also shown in the manga that he's adjusting/adding more along his scars.

als, in case anyone is unfamiliar with the term Kintsugi, it's this

Kintsugi (Japanese: 金継ぎ, lit. 'golden joinery'), also known as kintsukuroi (金繕い, "golden repair"), is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with urushi lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. The method is similar to the maki-e technique. Its the Japanese philosophy that the value of an object is not in its beauty, but in its imperfections, and that these imperfections are something to celebrate, not hide.

which I think suits his character very well when his piercings and dermal rings are gold looking in some of the colored manga art.

ok, I'll shut up now, ♡

[kenobihater]

here's the full fic for anyone who wants a good laugh

you ever write up a combination of words you're really proud of at the time bc you think it's vivid but it's actually so atrocious that you remember it eight years later bc it's burned itself into your long-term memory? just me?

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

I'll admit I'm an emotionally sensitive bean that cries too easily.

I guess I'll ask for alpha!blade, alpha!jing yuan, and alpha!wriothesley.

Say omega is having a hard time making a nest and it's just been a really stressful day for them so they burst into tears, full on wailing so pretty much anyone in the area can hear them crying. I'm a loud crier unfortunately.... So it can sound like a 2 year old throwing a tantrum which is awful...

Poor omega ;o;

cw: omegaverse

Blade

He's in the kitchen when he hears them crying and immediately rushes to the room to figure out and potentially fight whatever made his mate cry. When he sees that his omega is surrounded by a half made nest and building materials he pieces together what made them burst into tears.

Doesn't say anything just envelopes his omega in a hug hoping that'll calm them down enough to explain things to him. When they do finally calm down and talk about their frustrations he's all ears.

He's not great at building nests himself but he at least tries to help them by holding this or that for them while they try to continue building the nest. If they get frustrated again and look like they're going to cry again he just holds them close inside the half made nest instead to show them he's happy with what they've made and to soothe their worries.

Jing Yuan

When he hears them crying from the garden with Yanqing he's immediately on his way to their shared room to see what's up as they were fine minutes ago. Seeing how distressed they are he doesn't do much but take the building supplies from their hands and holds their hands in his own to ask what's wrong. After hearing about their stressful day he offers to build them a nest instead to cheer them up.

He's rather good at building nests and has Yanqing gather more blankets and pillows to help out. He builds his omega a large and rather comfortable looking nest and asks them if they'd like Yanqing to stay to which they answer with a nod.

Surrounded by his and Yanqing's warmth and the very well made nest might make them cry again but in happiness.

Wriothesley

Probably hears them while on his way to visit them at home and is quick to get his key to their home to open the door and make his way to their room. When he sees them so upset he drops anything he's holding and holds them in his arms asking what's wrong. He nods in understanding when they talk about the stress that's piled up and how this was their limit.

Offers to help them build their nest or get them some water or anything at all if they think it'll help. His omega settles for cuddles in the half made nest until they calm down enough to stop crying.

Building their nest isn't so hard as it was partially completed but with his help it definitely went smoother than before resulting in a happy omega.

[blitzwhore]

Hold on, man... I'm having Thoughts and Emotions...

What if Stolas and Octavia made plans to watch the solar eclipse together on Earth to make up for not seeing Azathoth's tears? And maybe Octavia suddenly suggested inviting Blitzø and Loona over as well, since they were all together that other time, too?

And when Blitzø sees the awkward text from Stolas inviting them (I'd understand if you're busy or would rather not come, but Octavia seemed keen on the idea of seeing Loona again), he isn't sure he wants to go, because things with Stolas have been so weird lately, and he's deeply in denial about the feelings they have for one another. But Loona kicks him in the butt about it because he's being stupid, and so he reluctantly texts Stolas trying to sound as nonchalant as possible (shur y nut, portal plz) while freaking out inside.

And he doesn't know what he was expecting as he crossed that portal, but a mountaintop above the clouds is definitely not it.

“Thank you for coming,” Stolas says, and Blitzø can't help but notice the way Stolas bows to him—and then he pushes that information aside, not knowing what to do with it. “I hope the localisation is fine, and not too cold. Anywhere else would've been too crowded.”

“It's whatever,” Blitzø shrugs, and hates the way some of the light leaves Stolas' smile. He's only been here for half a minute and he's already messed things up.

Next to them, Octavia is explaining the intricacies of solar eclipses in detail to Loona. Absent-mindedly, Blitzø notices the way Loona softens around Via, but keeps it to himself, not wanting to be kicked in the nuts. Instead, he looks around for a semi-comfortable stone and plops down on it, wincing when Stolas sits carefully by his side.

He's searching desperately for something to say when Stolas announces, “Look up, everyone, it's about to start!”

At first, Blitzø notices nothing. Well, nothing but the mild discomfort of staring directly at the sun.

But then he sees it. The moon—a corner of it, anyway—overtaking the powerful star. And, for a second, he can't breathe.

Of course, the partial eclipse lasts long enough that conversation sparks up again, though awkward and sporadic. Stolas asks about work, Via talks about the moon's mountains. Blitzø tries to quieten the voice that says he doesn't deserve to be here.

But when the total eclipse nears, they're all too entranced to talk. As darkness washes over the sea of clouds below them, the seconds seem to slow, and each of his heartbeats thrums through him, echoing in the ground underneath him. He's one with the earth and the sky, and, when it all goes dark, the whole universe stops breathing with him to experience this.

He only remembers to breathe when, in the complete darkness, he feels thin, long fingers curling around his own.

Too entranced to remember all the reasons why he's not allowed to want this, Blitzø squeezes Stolas' hand firmly back.

They are one. Of course they are. How could they not be, when the sun and the moon themselves are?

It's less than two minutes before the sunlight begins regaining its territory and washing away the darkness, but it might as well be a lifetime.

A lifetime he spends with Stolas' hand clasped firmly in his own, surrounded by their daughters, marvelling at the vastness of the universe. Feeling like, maybe, they're all insignificant enough to deserve all the love they can find.

But, inevitably, the moment passes and reality settles back in.

Blitzø doesn't want the moment to end, but, of course, the moment doesn't care. And, too scared to keep holding on to a hope that feels as fragile and ephemeral as an eclipse, Blitzø lets go of Stolas' hand.