#what's it like to not have a crippling caffeine addiction

[paramouradrift]

I'm a 4 but if I had my way I'd be a 5

[stayinlimbo]

We Become We

pairing: husband!lee minho x reader genre/warnings: friends to lovers, marriage of convenience, fluff, poor attempts at me trying to be funny, mc's gender is not specified word count: 1.02k note:  i am not dead yay. i tried my best since i haven't had time to write for almost a month so please take this as a peace offering ♡

Marriage. It’s an interesting concept, isn’t it? 

You’ve always thought so, at least. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

Yours happens to be a man named Lee Minho. The same man you’ve been friends with for as long as you can remember. The same man who asked you to marry him for a reason you didn’t get to learn until he was already down on one knee. 

(“I’m sorry, you want me to WHAT?” “Marry me. Please, I need health insurance.”

“Okay, yes, sure, whatever; now please get off the floor. People are staring.”)

Lee Minho, who, after dragging you to the courthouse and legally becoming your husband, finally elaborated on how his job would pay him more and cover both of your health insurances if he was married. So really, in his words, he was “doing you a huge favor” by marrying you. 

And, in all honesty, he really was. No, you didn’t have a ring to show off your new husband’s weird skill at finding loopholes in company policy, and you’re like thirty-five percent sure the two of you are committing some kind of marriage fraud, but does it really matter when you can finally start using the hot water in your dingy apartment without worrying if you’ll have enough money to fund your crippling caffeine addiction? The government will have to drag you kicking and screaming before you resort back to mankind’s cruelest form of torture: cold showers. 

Not to mention that marriage didn’t even change your relationship with Minho. And why would it? You’re still you, and he’s still him. He gets on your nerves just the same, maybe even a little bit more after he decided to frame your marriage certificate in his living room and send a photo to all your mutual friends. You’ll never forgive Minho for laughing at your helplessly panicked state when the group chat wouldn’t stop exploding with messages and incessant calls. 

You’re still his best friend that resides in his apartment four out of seven days of the week while he inhabits yours for the other three. Maybe that’s why, two weeks after your “wedding,” when it was time to renew your lease, Minho suggested with a simple shrug of his shoulders that you move in with him since “you’re here all the time anyway.” 

You’ve really got to learn how to say no to him because now you wake up next to your best friend/roommate/husband in his one bedroom, one bathroom apartment at the crack of dawn with a light pressure on your chest and fur in your face when his cats decide you need to wake up right now to feed them. 

Not to say you don’t like the new arrangement! No, that would be the furthest from the truth. 

Sure, you didn’t appreciate your skin care routine being interrupted by the unexpectedly high-pitched scream Minho let out when he saw you in a face mask for the first time, and what kind of person still has their phone’s brightness turned up all the way before bed? But who else would willingly tolerate your deliriousness before your morning coffee or indulge in your pleas to cook your favorite food three days in a row? 

Living with Minho has only made the purely platonic feelings you harbor for him grow stronger.

That’s what the fluttering in your chest means every time you see him, right? The reason for the smile that grows on your face when you hear the distinct jingling of keys at the front door?

Yeah, that must be why heat spread across your cheeks when he handed you his phone to text one of his friends back, because since when did the heart emoji make an appearance next to your pinned contact name?

You just care about each other, that’s all. It’s normal to want to make sure he arrived at work safely and ask how his day is going during your lunch breaks. It’s normal to start receiving back hugs before bed—a comforting weight as Minho’s chin rests on your shoulder while you apply the rest of the products to your face. 

It’s natural to have doubts about the nature of your relationship during an evening walk, acutely aware of his fingers lightly brushing against yours as you silently study his features illuminated by the soft glow of the scattered streetlights. What if he meets someone else and falls in love with them and wants a divorce and– oh. 

Has he always looked at you like that? With his gaze softening as it locks with yours? With the corners of lips lifting into the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen? With all the stars shining above you finding a second home in his eyes? A look so loving that it takes your breath away and you can’t tell if you’re about to laugh or cry in relief. 

And when you return home to get ready for bed, the familiar feeling of hands wrapping around your waist and a careful pressure resting by the crook of your neck quells the remnants of your worries.

It’s you and Minho. Minho and you, just as it always has been. Just as it’s always meant to be.

The distance between your bodies on the bed becomes nonexistent when you curl yourself into his side, laying your head on his shoulder and intertwining your legs with his as he immediately, unhesitantly, adjusts his arm, his fingertips finding purchase on exposed skin and roaming across the span of your back. A kiss to the top of your head is the last thing you feel before the gentle lull of breathing and the rise and fall of his chest begin to soothe you to sleep. 

…

Ah, marriage—what an interesting concept. Two people agreeing to sign a legal document and tethering their lives to each other for whatever reason, be it love, societal expectations, familial pressure, financial security, etc. 

You love your husband, and you’re beginning to think he loves you too. 

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taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn

[mothhball]

Prologue

JONATHAN CRANE X FEM!READER

summary Your mentor is unhappy with your career choices. But her worries only serve to make you more curious.

warnings none! this is just a little prologue

notes a little intro to kick things off. I'll shortly post the first chapter as well haha Also, Potomac is just a name I borrowed from the DC universe. I know it's different in the comics, so don't shoot me please <3

! MINORS DNI !

story masterlist • main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: 1.1k

“Look… I just don’t get why you wouldn’t want to go back to Potomac. From what I’ve read in your sophomore internship review, Dr. Rabin was genuinely impressed with you and said he’d be excited to have you back for the Senior internship. What happened? I – I would’ve understood anything, really. But Arkham? You really applied there?”

Professor Campbell’s office is a time capsule. A familiar, cozy environment that you’ve been inhabiting for a whole hour per week since the start of the last semester. Decorated with undemanding potted plants and cheesy motivational posters on the walls around you. The smell of paper and hibiscus hangs in the dry air, warmed up to an almost uncomfortable temperature by the ever-running radiator mounted to the wall. Usually, your presence in this room is accompanied by a sense of inner peace. One hour per week during which you’re allowed to fantasize about a glowing future as you sit in front of your academic mentor. But today, the tiny woman with the prominent smile lines is looking at you with thinly-veiled indignation. It’s an ugly expression on her, you decide. People like Campbell are better off smiling and laughing, like the human embodiment of a Golden Retriever.

You shift in your seat, resisting the urge to gesture with your hands to avoid seeming defensive. No, you keep your posture open and inviting on purpose. The body language of a genuine person.

“Potomac Psychiatric Hospital is just not what I want,” you start, speaking gently in an effort to make her emphasize with you. “I need a challenge. I don’t want to hang around rich people with mild cases of burnout all the time.”

Professor Campbell’s face scrunches up with mild displeasure, and you feel the need to quickly correct yourself.

“No offense, of course. But my main interest does lie in… the tough cases. And there are tough cases at Potomac. Jeremiah Arkham himself called his asylum the ‘Ivy League of insanity’. And Dr. Crane used to be a professor here. You knew him, right?”

Campbell flinches, and you could swear you were able to see an expression of genuine fear in her eyes for a fraction of a second. And for that fraction of a second, you were speaking to a prey animal instead of your favorite psychology professor.

“Well… Professor Crane – Doctor Crane was a… well-known member of the faculty. By which I mean everyone knew of him and the kind of seminars he held. Nobody really knew anything about the man aside from his special interest in fear-based disorders and most likely crippling caffeine addiction. Back when I knew him, he was… eccentric to say the least. But he knew what he was teaching about. Students fled his lecture hall as soon as he was done speaking, but he really was a brilliant mind. He was a professor for a reason, after all.”

You nod along to her words, unable to stop that little spark of personal curiosity from growing and festering within you. If everything goes well, you’d be able to witness firsthand how peculiar this man is for the entire summer. Much to her dismay, Campbell’s tales only serve to encourage your decision.

“So, if the two of you knew each other, there’s already a networking opportunity here,” you conclude, folding your hands in your lap.

“Yes but –“

“Also, Arkham is right here in Gotham. I don’t have to rent a new apartment anywhere else, I already know the city, and so on and so forth.” You feel a little bad for cutting her off, but it’s almost ridiculous how much she’s trying to dissuade you from your plans. Campbell doesn’t bother to hide her displeasure anymore, letting out a sigh as she taps a manicured nail against the porcelain of her teacup.

“Listen,” she starts, choosing her words carefully, “we’ve had many students apply to Arkham Asylum for an internship over the years. And those whose spirits didn’t get crushed during the interview were worn down by the work itself. Besides, the influx of applications is monumental. There’s no guarantee that you’ll even get invited to the interview. In my humble opinion, you should write Potomac an email and – “

“I already got invited.” Campbell’s eyes widen, and the silence prompts you to continue. It’s a little difficult to not seem smug as you speak, but you manage. “The interview is this Friday.”

“Friday…” Campbell reaches out for her cup of tea, trying to wash away the bitter taste on her tongue with a mouthful of hibiscus and apple. In that moment, you feel a little bad for the professor. She’s always tried to make time for you and dutifully offered help wherever she could. And in return, you’re acting childish, trying to incite a one-sided contest over an internship. You let out a sigh along with her, shifting in your seat; softening up.

“This is… something that’s really important to me,” you offer, trying to apologize without saying it. “Potomac was a huge help for getting into the swing of things. I… learned a lot about the basics. And for anyone else, that hospital is the perfect match. But I don’t want to graduate, secretly doubting whether I’ll ever be ready for the real work. I know Arkham is a baptism by fire. But it’s what I need.”

Campbell hums in response, stirring a third sugar cube into her tea. It’s just a habit to keep her hands busy at this point. You’re pretty sure the crystals don’t even dissolve anymore.

“Besides,” you continue, smiling at her because you know this will give her at least a shred of hope, “even though I got through to the interview, I might not even get an internship spot. So… this entire conversation might be redundant anyway.”

This gets you the response you were hoping for, and the professor nods thoughtfully as the smile you’re used to returns to her face. She sounds relieved when she answers you.

“If that should happen, I’m sure you could still send an application to Dr. Rabin and he’ll have you on his team in no time at all. Oh, why am I even worrying? You’ll figure it out.”

You nod, feeling in real time how your smile relaxes into something more genuine. Suddenly, the warmth in the room doesn’t feel oppressive anymore. As the mood switches to something more cheerful, the two of you talk some more about your final thesis before you decide to end the conversation on a good note. Campbell rises from her seat along with you, and you mirror her smile, relieved to finally be done with this interrogation. Your mentor heads to the door after you, gently patting your shoulder.

“Let me walk with you. At least until the staff lounge. I need a fresh cup of tea.”

@ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24

@detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411

@ashdrinksoatmilk @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines

@hanawrites404 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @nocturnest @biblicallyaccuratebee @red-riding-wood

@luvlloyd @ribbonystar @smxkyqvxrtz @bloodandglitter207 @seaamonster

@rosiemarieyn @sagepixieswrld

[rypnami]

amortentia headcanons

idk i got to thinking about what you would smell if you were attracted to the different NPCs. not an original idea but i wanted to have fun! (image taken from google, i don’t know who made it sorry!)

sebastian: the strongest smell is that of smoke. it’s reminiscent of him teaching you confringo, as well as his self-proclaimed preference for more fiery forms of magic. you will also smell hints of ink, and parchment. it reminds you of all those late night study sessions you two have. there’s a hint of old books, like the time you snuck into the restricted section together.

ominis: you’ll smell a hint of his favourite hand lotion (because i hc he is a rabid lotion user). similar to sebastian’s, you’ll smell ink, although it will be more stale, as if it’s been sitting open for a few days, because he’s been too busy pondering just the right thing to write to you. it will smell like your favourite flower, which he took the time to find out and bring to you at almost any occasion, just because.

garreth: cinnamon rolls definitely, as garreth weasley is the living embodiment of a cinnamon roll. there would be a bit of a smoky smell, the aftermath of yet another potion disaster. it would smell woodsy, reminding you of hours spent together in the forbidden forest, looking for ingredients for his latest experiments. and, of course, fizzing whizbees, whatever they may smell like.

natty: you would smell the flower desert rose. also from matabeleland, it’s beautiful but deadly, much like natty. her amortentia would smell very outdoorsy, as you spend a lot of your time together on adventures through the forbidden forest, the highlands, wherever. there might be a bit of the smell of hippogriffs.

leander: the first thing you would smell is chocolate. that boy loves sweets, and always has some on him to share. there would be hints of broom wax, from how much you try to help him get better at balancing on a broom. you spend a lot of time together in the greenhouses, so you would likely also smell fresh soil and dittany leaves. there’s definitely the strong smell of butterbeer, which is his favourite drink.

amit: coffee. he has a crippling caffeine addiction due to being up late to study the stars, and that definitely comes out in his amortentia. it would smell a bit like citrus, as i hc he enjoys that kind of fruit and flavour in his tea. parchment is also definitely and underlying scent.

andrew: there would be a strong scent of your favourite tea- as a tea drinker, he would always go out of his way to also have a cup ready for you, especially if you were going to have a long study session. based on all the time you spend together in beasts class, it’s a certainty to have a hint of the smell of creature fur, although not unpleasant. also a bit like lavender, just because that’s the kind of vibe i get from him.

[incorrectsibunaquotes]

what your favorite season of house of anubis says about you:

season 1 - the cup of ankh: you like the classics; you live for agatha christie mysteries; you enjoy the ren faire; you had a twilight phase; you probably own one or multiple cats; astrology is your personality; you like musical theatre a little too much; you probably know your entire hogwarts profile down to your patronus and wand type; you definitely have more than four flannels in your closet; you’re either a millennial or just millennial-coded (affectionately); tumblr changed your life; you were a big pretty little liars fan; you’re gay

season 2 - the race for the mask: you have a crippling caffeine addiction; you go off on so many tangents when you’re telling a story; you’re probably really into reality tv shows like survivor; you have mild to severe arachnophobia; you’re a little bit basic (affectionate); you use slang terms way longer than they’re popular; you’re really into olivia rodrigo now; you’re a self-proclaimed bookworm, but you’ve only really read fanfic for the past three years; you think tattoos are really cool but you’re lowkey scared to get one; speak now is your favorite taylor swift album; you have a complicated relationship with one or both of your parents; you wanted to be a writer for a while; you probably had an emo phase (style, music, or both); you majored or plan on majoring in communications in college; you’re gay

season 3 - the reawakening: you love horror films; you are currently unmedicated for depression and/or anxiety; you love sun/moon imagery; you’re into tarot; you love the myth of orpheus and eurydice; you probably had a minor drinking problem in college; you like a spy story; female rage™ (gender neutral); you think people’s flaws are fascinating; you liked playing dress up games online as a kid; you’re into astrology but try to play it off like you don’t believe in it; you claim you’re in your reputation era, even though you’re really in your midnights era; you’ve been cheated on/viscerally heartbroken by an ex; you’re a silver jewelry girlie; you had a messy homoerotic friendship breakup that you still haven’t moved on from; you have an obsession with religious iconography but are not religious; you’re not like other girls (affectionate); you’re gay

[emma23]

Strumming the wrong strings:

Llewyn Davis x reader

————————————————————————

Llewyn sat at the worn-out kitchen table, tuning his guitar for the millionth time, the sounds of faint music seeping through the thin walls of the apartment. Across from him, you sat casually, spinning a spoon in a cup of now-cold coffee, not looking up but smirking like you knew something he didn’t. You always had that look—playful, teasing, but never serious enough to let anyone in.

He strummed a few chords, the melancholy tune matching the dull lighting of the room. Then, out of the blue, Llewyn broke the silence with a question.

“So... why don’t you ever talk about yourself?” He asked, his eyes narrowing as they moved from his guitar to your face. His voice was rough, not accusatory, just genuinely curious.

You looked up, grinning as if you’d been waiting for this exact moment. “Why? You writing a song about me now?” You leaned forward on your elbows, flashing him a sarcastic smile.

Llewyn scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m serious. You’re always cracking jokes. But I don’t actually know anything about you. You’ve been around for...what, months now?”

Your smile widened, but it was more of a defense mechanism than genuine amusement. “Well, I like long walks on the beach, I’m an Aquarius—if you’re into astrology—oh, and I have a crippling addiction to caffeine. That about covers it.” You winked, deflecting like you always did.

Llewyn’s expression didn’t budge. He stared at you, his dark eyes intense, like he was trying to see past the jokes you kept throwing up as walls.

“Come on, seriously. I get it—you’re the funny one. But what’s your story?”

You sighed dramatically, placing your hand on your chest as if you were about to deliver the world’s most profound revelation. “My story? Well, I was born in a small town—raised by wolves. It’s a tragic tale of survival and—”

“Stop.” Llewyn’s tone was flat, but there was an undercurrent of something that made you falter. “I’m not in the mood for your act.”

For a second, your face dropped, but you quickly masked it with another quip. “What’s the matter? The brooding musician can’t handle a little humor?” You pushed back your chair, standing up, clearly uncomfortable with where this conversation was heading.

“Can you?” Llewyn’s words hit harder than expected, catching you off guard. He set his guitar aside, standing up slowly, watching your reaction. “Why do you always hide behind jokes?”

You crossed your arms defensively, the smirk now gone. “Because, Llewyn, life’s easier that way. You should try it sometime.”

He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. “Easier, or safer?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling exposed in a way that wasn’t comfortable at all. “What do you care? You don’t exactly spill your heart out either.”

Llewyn tilted his head, acknowledging the truth in your words. “Fair. But I don’t make everything a joke to avoid talking about it.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to shake off the heaviness of the conversation. “Fine. What do you want to know? My deepest, darkest secrets? My childhood traumas? My failed relationships? Maybe how I ended up sharing an apartment with a guy who treats his guitar better than his friends?”

Llewyn raised an eyebrow at that, and a ghost of a smile played on his lips. “You think I treat my guitar better than you?”

“Definitely. You’ve never looked at me the way you look at that thing,” you shot back, thankful to steer the conversation away from yourself.

He took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “Maybe because you’ve never let me,” he said, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine. “You keep everyone at arm’s length with that mouth of yours.”

You blinked, thrown off by his sudden closeness and the intensity in his eyes. “Oh, please,” you muttered, trying to laugh it off, but it came out weaker than you intended. “You’re getting all serious on me, Llewyn. That’s not your style.”

“Neither is this,” he murmured, and before you could respond, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was unexpected, but the second it happened, it was like everything else stopped. Your mind raced for a moment—this was Llewyn, after all. He was guarded, bitter, always caught in his own world. But here he was, kissing you like he’d been waiting for this just as long as you had.

For once, you didn’t crack a joke. You kissed him back, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer, the heat between you both quickly building.

Llewyn broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. “Still think I treat my guitar better?” he whispered, his voice teasing, but there was something vulnerable in his tone.

You chuckled softly, your fingers lightly tracing his jawline. “Okay, you might have a point. But you’re still not getting any backstory from me.”

“Fine by me,” he murmured, pulling you toward the bed, his lips trailing soft kisses down your neck.

What started as a playful argument quickly melted into something far more intense. His hands explored your body, every touch deliberate, every kiss slow and heated. For the first time, there were no walls, no jokes—just you and him, the world outside the apartment fading away.

You felt his breath on your skin as he worked his way down, the weight of him pressing against you as the tension between you snapped, giving way to pure need. Llewyn’s fingers dug into your hips as he pulled you closer, his mouth hungry as he kissed you again, deeper this time, like he couldn’t get enough.

Your bodies moved together in a rhythm that felt natural, almost instinctive. There was something raw about it, something real. For once, you weren’t trying to hide behind humor or sarcasm. You were just... there, in the moment, with him.

Later, as you lay tangled together in the sheets, the room quiet except for the sound of your breathing, Llewyn spoke again, his voice soft in the darkness. “You’re not going to make a joke about this?”

You smiled, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. “I think I’ve run out of material.”

He chuckled, his hand gently brushing through your hair. “That’s a first.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you replied, leaning up to kiss him softly. “I’m still the funny one.”

Llewyn smiled, pulling you closer. “Yeah. You are.”

There was a long silence, comfortable for once, neither of you needing to fill it with anything. Then, as if on cue, you broke it with a smirk.

“So, are you going to write a song about this? Or is that just too cliché?”

Llewyn groaned, burying his face in his pillow. “God, why do I even try with you?”

You laughed, rolling onto your side, satisfied with yourself. “Because I’m irresistible. Obviously.”

Llewyn glanced over at you, shaking his head with a smile that he couldn’t quite hide. “Yeah. Sure.”

As he drifted off to sleep, you laid there in the dim light, feeling something unfamiliar and terrifying: vulnerability. But for once, you didn’t try to make a joke out of it.

Instead, you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, “Maybe one day, I’ll let you in. Just... don’t get your hopes up.”

And with that, you rolled over, snuggling into the blankets, leaving Llewyn to wonder just how long it would take to break through your defenses.

[sazed-s-faith-crisis]

Okay guys I am spreading myself too thin. What fic should I work of (spoiler alert all of them are some degree of Marzed)

Okay below the poll are summaries and pros and cons

Name: ?

Summary: Basically yeah its Marsh and Sazed with kids. Sazed's literally TWO shards, he can make/spawn/create some kids that are biologically his and his husband's. (also adoption)

features:

a very cute tiny steelrunner who likes to abuse her powers

Kelsier being the irresponsible fun uncle

TenSoon giving rides to toddlers

Marsh and Sazed being sleep deprived

Sazed discovering the wonders of caffeine for the first time and slowly forming a dependency

2) Name: Gold Doesnt Heal All

Basically an au where Harmonium doesnt make Atium. Instead one last small piece of atium found extends Marsh's life until mid era 3. When Marsh dies Sazed loses his shit and becomes Discord. A mix of scenes involving not just Sazed losing his shit, but also Marsh and Mare being friends in the beyond

features:

Lawful evil discord!Sazed that I have legitimentally had a lesbian friend jerk off too???

help I dont know if thats good or bad

Kelsier getting bitch slapped

Great fic to just sob too

fluff in the beyond (meeting past dead characters!!)

(lerati)

3) Name: ?

As canon compliant as I could get fic about Marsh and Marasi going to this interplanetary coffee shop and its short 250-750 word chapters of Marsh and Marasi talking and Marsh dropping random parts about his past (Marasi is very concerned) Also End of chapter bloopers with Wax and Steris and Marasi

features:

Marsh adopting Marasi. Very cute

BISEXUAL MARASI!!!

A kandra named TaLeen who has chronic ADHD, swears a lot, has a crippling caffeine addiction, and is in general really sweet, but sucks at her job of being a barista

Marsh being Marasi's gay uncle (Marsh and Saze are married <3)

Marsh teaching Marasi how to scam people with cards

Did I mention TaLeen?

4) name: ?

smut

Yeah its just my 4 various ficlets of just Marsh and Sazed fucking because of trauma recovery therapy yk?

features:

smut

[fr3sh-c0rn]

what your favorite ice cream flavor says about you

vanilla: you're boring and unoriginal and I also don't believe you

Chocolate: same as above but I believe you

Cookies and Cream: less boring but same principle

Cookie dough: you have anger issues. we can all tell bestie you always get mad when they don't add enough cookie

Strawberry: it's an alright choice. You may not be the sharpest, but you're not wrong?

Rainbow Sherbet: you wish you could love yourself alone. you also confirm every gay stereotype

Birthday cake: you're either a literal eight year old or you have very low standards in your romantic relationships

Mint Chip: I'm not going to say that you're an incredibly stupid person. I'll just imply it.

Neapolitan: fucking bisexual ass bitch

butter pecan: you're a mother or you want one to step on you

Fro-yo: it's not ice cream you dense fuck nugget but either way you should really just take a breather. You can stop now.

Caramel: this is like the raspberry of ice cream options like sure it's not bad but it's nuanced enough where no one talks about it. I'll also guess you do not have a stable relationship with at least one of your parents

Cotton Candy: see birthday cake except you're definitely a bottom

Coconut: youre above the age of 10

Peanut butter: how's the ADHD doing huh

Rocky road: either the gayest gay to have ever gayed or Kyle from accounting

Moose Tracks: Brenda from accounting or whore

Coffee: caffeine addiction and crippling self hatred

Sweet cream: I could make a cum joke, but that's low hanging fruit. What isn't low hanging fruit is your poor ability to set boundaries in relationships

Lemon: you just really like lemons

Pistachio: you are either identify as transgender or you have some very important introspection to be doing

Chocolate chip: gay but like in a 'you had an mine craft YouTuber phase' kind of way

Cherry: you probably have never really branched out emotionally

Cheesecake of any kind: you have a dependent relationship with pretty much all of your friends

Superman: you are a child, and I mean that in a derogatory way. go cry to mommy

Butterscotch: you're just caramel+

Praline Pecan: you are a liar

Bubblegum: I would judge you but you've faced enough emotional turmoil and/or abuse. I'll leave you to your creamed gumballs.

French Vanilla: you may like this ice cream but does /anybody/ like /you/?

Which one are you? Was it accurate?

tell me one I misses so I can do this once more!

[cecexwrites]

Novel November Day 2

Prompt: The sound of metal scraping against stone drew your attention. You look up from the corner where you are bound and… Words: 1849/1750 TW: kidnapping @novelnovember

My arms were going numb, the ache I had felt in my shoulders was dissipating and I was sure that was a bad sign, a very bad sign. A no good very bad sign. I tried to readjust but the ties holding my arms behind my back were giving nothing. I was truly starting to worry about how my hands would fare when I got out of this. 

If I got out of this. 

I had to focus on the worry of losing my hands because if I focused for too long on the very real risk of losing my life then I would go nuts. As it stood, I couldn't take my eyes off the wall, off the shadows dancing against it, the shadows that shouldn't be there. 

"Leave me alone." I rasped. I was all at once grateful they'd taken me before I'd gotten a chance to drink my morning glass of water because it took care of the 'how do I go pee' problem but also it meant I was already dehydrated, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth, my throat raw from screaming for help. Help that wasn't going to come. I had no idea where I was, or what day it was. All I knew was there was a real risk of finger amputation and the shadows on the wall were getting bigger. 

I didn't hear a door open, I may have missed it, my eyes were so focused on the wall. They were dancing, how were they dancing, the single light source in this hellscape wasn't moving, nothing in this room should have been moving but the shadows-

My thoughts were interrupted by a sound, a sound that made my teeth hurt. Metal, thin metal, it was scraping against stone. More specifically, concrete which is what the wall behind me was made of. 

'Good,' I thought 'They can fight the shadows' I looked back over my shoulder, a new shadow appearing, this one taller, broader. It's arm was long, impossibly long, ending in a knife. My heart was going to pound out of my chest and I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut. This was it. 

--------------------------------

I was never at full capacity before I'd had my morning coffee. Yes, I know it was a terrible Millennial trait 'Can't live without coffee' 'don't talk to me before I have my morning coffee' bleh bleh bleh. Years spent at a highly competitive boarding school had left me with both a wild competitive streak and a crippling caffeine addiction. It is what it is. I stretched my arms up over my head wincing at the sound of my bones cracking. I really needed to get a mattress topper, this school-issued thing just wasn't cutting it. I kicked my blankets down off of me and stood up, smoothing my silky nightgown down over my hips. 

first clothes, then water, then coffee. I dug through my corner of clothes, I'd been so busy lately that properly hanging things up had fallen to the wayside. I was contemplating the absurdity of hiring a housekeeper to come work on my dorm as I chucked a few things over my shoulder, looking for the outfit I wanted. 

Finally, I managed to unearth the black skinny jeans from the bottom of the clean clothes pile. The top I had in mind, thankfully, was hung up so it wouldn't be wrinkled to all hell. I quickly dressed, stopping in front of the mirror to fix my hair. 

I made a mental note to book an appointment for the salon as I raked my hands through the thick black locks. I had been working hard, I deserved a good blow-out and I desperately needed a trim. 

I glanced at the time, it was still pretty early, good, I'd be out before He woke up. I wrinkled my nose, I hated that I was changing my own schedule just because of him. I hated that he had any sort of power over me. Even just enough to make me wake up an hour earlier in the hopes of avoiding seeing him when I was vulnerable. Coffee was my bitch juice. The halls were quiet as I made my way towards the cafe. Most of the people who woke up this early were going for a run outside. I didn't like running in England, I hated it more here in New York. I preferred going to the gym, where it was a little warmer than the cold wet of my birthplace and my chosen home, as well as the chances of someone sneaking up on me being way less. I walked by the front doors of the building stopping when I realized they were open, wide open. They'd never been like that. Even on move-in day, they'd been closed. Each person having to open the heavy doors for themselves. I paused, staring at them, confused. 

"Weird." I stepped towards them, sticking my head out and glancing around, there was no one out there. I stepped fully out of the building and down a few stairs so my vision was unblocked. 

that was when the hand wrapped around my mouth, a strong body dragging me off as I screamed against their gloved hand, kicking and trying to fight, but I was no match for the much bigger person behind me. 

They dragged me away and into a car. I felt the prick of a needle puncturing my skin and that was the last thing I remembered before waking up in this stupid little corner of this stupid little room where I was going to die as the shadow got bigger and closer. I pressed against the wall, trying to curl up into the corner I'd been left in. 

---------------------------------------

"Not again, not again, not again," I muttered, my forehead pressing to my knees. The shadows wouldn't overtake me, I'd worked so hard to fight them off, to keep the shadows from taking over. I would keep fighting, I had to keep fighting. When I felt the ghost of a touch on my ankle I lashed out, kicking as hard as I could from the position I was in. My foot connected with something and the shadow cursed. 

"Son of a bitch, Printsessa, don't fucking do that." 

My eyes snapped open at the voice, the familiar voice, the Russian lilt to the stupid nickname that only one person called me. 

"Luka?" I gasped. 

"It's me, It's just me." His hands were rough as he moved me, turning me around to face the wall, there was a 'snick' sound and my arms dropped free, the pain of movement hit me like a train, but I didn't focus too hard on it, I didn't get a chance, Luka picked me up in his arms, I couldn't even move my arms enough to wrap them around his neck to take on some of my weight but he seemed wholly unbothered. as he headed for the stairs. I glanced over my shoulder at the shadows, their spindly arms reaching out, brushing against his back, trying desperately to pull me back in. 

The door had been kicked in, and part of the frame was hanging at an odd angle as he carried me out of the dungeon I'd been kept in. Most would call it a basement but was there a difference when the purpose was holding someone against their will? Luka stopped abruptly as if something had occurred to him at that moment. 

"Close your eyes." He ordered. 

"Why?"

"Just do it, Sloane, don't argue with me." He sounded both harsh and tired so while my soul told me to fight he, wasn't the boss of me, I closed my eyes, pressing my face against his chest. I focused on the beat of his heart, I could feel it. One, two, three, his heart rate was elevated. 

"Why is your heart racing?" I asked, my voice muffled against his soft shirt, the same stupid henly-style shirt he wore daily. I could picture it in my head, the sleeves were long but he always pushed them up to his elbows instead of just wearing something short-sleeved like a normal person. With his stupid forearms on display, the corded muscles visible under the smooth tan skin, my brain always wondered how it would look with his hands around my throat-

Not now. 

"Okay, you can look now." I felt the change in the air, it was no longer warm and damp, it was cold and damp. I opened my eyes and we were outside. It was dark and I didn't recognize anything. 

"Where are we?" I asked. 

"Outside the city." was the answer I got. He carried me to a car and grunted, a man dressed in all black appeared next to us, opening the door for Luka then running back off into the building. Luka sat me down in the backseat and I finally got a good look at him. 

He was a mess. His normally handsomely ruffled golden hair was an actual mess, he had dark circles under his eyes, his eyes wide and wild, searching me. 

"What happened? Did they touch you? did they hurt you? why would you say not again?" My entire body jolted at that. 

"They didn't touch me, My arms hurt but I'm okay." Okay apparently my voice wasn't okay, it was hard to get the words out and it felt not unlike sandpaper. 

"Shit," he shouted something in Russian and a few moments later a bottle of water floated into view. I knew it was held by a gloved hand, it wasn't floating, but I couldn't think about the gloved hand, the way it wrapped around my mouth, how the person dragged me away with no problem. 

God fucking dammit. Jonathan had been right. I was a liability. I was an easy target that could be used against the people I loved. And Luka. Who I most certainly didn't love. The water was opened and held out to me. I stared at it a moment, as if unsure what to do with it. Luka sighed and rolled his eyes, moving closer and tipping my head back. He carefully tipped the bottle towards my open mouth, the water was cold and refreshing, it was perfect. It ran down my sore throat and I winced, he started to pull back but I shook my head enough that he could see it but not so much that it would spill the water, when I was done, I tapped his arm and he let me sit upright. 

"What the hell happened?" he asked. I opened my mouth to answer but there was a shout, a lot of shouts. 

"Bomb!" Someone managed to articulate. Luka shoved me over in the seat and jumped in the car. Someone else jumped in the front and with a squeal of rubber, we were off, just as the building behind us exploded. 

[youssefnathan-simp]

Many steps to realisation

┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈┈

“What’s wrong with him?”

That’s what Darcy was asked as the Paris Gang watched her ‘dads’ from a far. The girl could only sigh at the sight “Youssef has fallen in love… but he’s too dumb to realise” she said. The teens could only nod at her answer because she was right. Darcy could only pray he figured out soon since she really didn’t want to be the one to tell him.

┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈┈

That event had occurred three weeks ago. Sadly, the man had still yet to realise it and, in actuality, the situation had gotten worse.

The ‘family’ had been sat together watching a film in the living room. Well, Darcy and Nathan watched the movie while Youssef watched Nathan with his pupils dialated. She could tell he was in love from the way his cheeks were flushed, which had now started happening at just the sight and mention of Nathan. It truly sucked for Darcy since she couldnt even make fun of him since it would lead to confusion, explanation and then denial.

Nathan got up and start walking out, when he turned back around Youssef was looking at him like a wounded deer “im just going to the bathroom” he told him. Youssef nodded and turned back to the movie.

Darcy could only sigh and roll her eyes at him, which got her a confused and moody glance. Without turning to him she said “You’re in love with Nathan”, she already knew that his eyes were wide and his face flushed. He took a few deep breaths “I’m not in love with him, I just think hes nice to be around and cuddle and talk to and look at. THATS NORMAL IN A RELATIONSHIP” he stuttered out but made sure to enunciate the last part. Darcy just smirked, “denial is a river in Egypt” making her receive a pillow to the back of her head.

When Nathan walked back in Youssef went back to being clingy and loving. To be honest, she wasn’t even surprised especially when he started cuddling into Nathan. Darcy wouldn’t admit it but she liked that they weren’t afraid to be affectionate around her, especially since her mother and father weren’t the best role models when it came to love and affection.

┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈┈

It had finally happened. He finally realised, technically. Darcy was in the kitchen finishing up her last bit of homework when Youssef pretty much ran in. He took a couple of breaths then started ranting.

“So Darcy my sweet angel, I DO NOT mean to use you as a therapist but I can’t talk to Nathan about it because well… I can’t. Anyway lately I have been feeling almost… fluttery… when looking at Nathan, at first I thought that maybe it was just my caffeine addiction giving me crippling anxiety but then I realised that didn’t make any sense.

I mean why would caffeine only kick in and give me crippling anxiety when I look at the prettiest boy alive, plus wouldn’t I feel it in my chest and not my stomach. So maybe you are right about the whole me and Nathan thing. Also I do also feel constant tingling in my chest but that’s not important right now”

Once he had finished Darcy could only look at him in shock while mouthing ‘wow’. She took his slightly shaking hand and smiled “okay, first you are definitely in love with Nathan it’s been obvious for a while. Second, please sort out your caffeine addiction before it actually kills you. Third, its been agreed that Josh Hutcherson is actually the prettiest boy alive no offence to Nathan” she told him. This response had made her recieve a glare that only made her snort as he walked out the kitchen.

┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈┈

The Paris Gang were once again hanging out, this was when Charlie asked Darcy about Youssef and Nathan. She sighed slightly as everyone gathered around “nothing much has happened except that Youssef realised he might actually be in love… but still in denial about the unhealthy coffee addiction”, everyone seemed reasonably happy at that response. Charlie looked at her and smirked “the caffeine’s probably gonna kill him before he actually confess” he said while everyone chuckled and nodded in agreement.

Darcy could only hope he confessed soon, she truly believed that he deserved a chance at being in love. Something told her deep down that it would happen soon.

┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈┈

Technically she was right about it being soon. It had been two weeks since that thought. Currently she was practicing her crocheting while also doing random doodles in a sketch book, but as she did this she was also listening in on her ‘dads’. The two were currently in their room watching scream, Somehow, Youssef had managed her convinced Nathan to watch horror movies with him and honestly Darcy found it entertaining.

She was smiling that’s when she heard it. “I love you”. Her mouth fell agape in shock as she tried to hold back her laughter. But then Darcy couldnt hold it in at Nathan’s response “what did you say”, the girl fell to the floor silently laughing hoping not to bring too much attention to.

Once she calmed down, Darcy grabbed her phone an opened the group chat.

𝖣𝖺𝗋𝖼𝗒:𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆…

[thedorkyidiot]

Tell me about this pokémon “AU” thing you have. you have this character on youtube so i’m interested.

Well I don’t have the plot fully planned out, mainly because it’s a joint thing and I don’t wanna accidentally do it all myself lmfao, but I can tell you some stuff about Caffeine!

Caffeine Jitters is from the Galar region! Around 15-16, they have a crippling addiction to coffee so they’re either crashed out or very energetic. Imagine fandom Gloria with her Scottish accent but toned down just a tad. She’s not really into battling and things like that, she would rather just chill and hang out with pokemon, which is why she runs a café in the future! Mostly by herself, her addiction to coffee makes her act like at least 3 employees. Other than that she’s just a chill gal trying to figure out what she wants to do with her life, I love her a lot she’s great

Some pictures from in game

[dangerousdispositions]

➪ CARMINE DURANTE

if you’re hearing WHO WE ARE by HOZIER playing, you have to know CARMINE DURANTE (HE/HIM; CIS MALE) is near by! the 36 year old PEDIATRIC ER NURSE at SUMMER VALLEY REGIONAL MEDICAL CENTER has been in town for, like, FIVE MONTHS. he's known to be quite FICKLE, but being OPTIMISTIC seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that he resembles MANNY JACINTO. personally, i’d love to know more about him seeing as how he's got those TWEETY- BIRD PRINT SCRUBS, CRIPPLING CAFFEINE ADDICTION, AN OVERABUNDANCE OF THROW PILLOWS, DARK CIRCLES UNDER HIS EYES and A NEVER- ENDING STRING OF HALF- LEARNED HOBBIES vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around DOWNTOWN long enough!

name: carmine durante

age: 36

d.o.b. & sign: august 5th, leo.

occupation: pediatric er nurse at summer valley regional medical center.

hometown: seattle, wa.

gender identity & sexuality: cis male, homosexual.

relationship status: single.

likes: fruity drinks, nicotine (but he isn't proud of it), strong coffee (with plenty of cream and sugar so it doesn't actually taste like coffee), wearing bright colors and prints, staying busy.

dislikes: liars, feeling weak, his boundaries being disrespected, feeling like he isn't in control of any given situation, lack of/ improper communication.

CWs for domestic violence, murder (not graphic).

Carmine was born the youngest child to a single mother. His father was never in the picture when he was young, and honestly, he was never missed. With three older sisters, their little house was crowded and chaotic enough. They fought like cats and dogs sometimes, sure, but they were a tight- knit group. Francesca, 5 years older than him, Alessandra, 3 years older, and Gianna, 11 months older, were all fiercely protective of their baby brother, and their mother was hard- working but so loving towards them. She was gone more than any of them wanted, seemingly always at work, but there was never any doubt that she loved them.

Then, when Carmine was eleven, his Dad came back, and everything changed.

It started out slow. At first, his presence seemed like a good thing-- it meant his Momma wasn't quite as stressed about money all the time, and she could start working just the one job. He smelled funky, and Francesca whispered that it was alcohol, but he brought them presents sometimes, treats and fast food, and once in a while they even got to go to the movies.

He had a temper, though, and once it started slipping up everything happened so fast. To Carmine, who hadn't been paying all that much attention to his mother's relationship, it felt like the flip of a light switch. His Dad kept getting angry, and his Momma seemed a lot sadder all the time, and quiet.

Then there were the bruises. Then there was Francesca, who stood up to him one time and got a broken wrist for her trouble, and it kept getting worse, until a once happy, healthy family started disintegrating into something broken and fraught.

It wasn't fair, but they didn't leave, and then it was just too late.

Carmine doesn't remember a lot about the day his mother died-- he doesn't want to. His therapists have told him it might come back in bits and pieces, and sometimes it does. Sometimes he has these bloody dreams that he's pretty sure are memories, but mostly he remembers the foggy, drug- hazy month he spent hospitalized after it all happened. One thing he does know is that he's pretty good at compartmentalizing under pressure, shoving feelings and panic both aside in order to focus on what needs to be done, and that ability is what eventually lead him down the path of healthcare-- though it took him a couple of years after high school to find a direction.

Carmine has always been a bit of a flighty person, ready to go wherever the wind takes him and do whatever captivates his attention for more than five minutes at a time. Outwardly, he's exuberant, excitable, carefree and extroverted, a truly bubbly happy- go- lucky person under most circumstances despite the trauma that's helped to form who he is. At a glance, you wouldn't think he was someone that has a hard time connecting with people, and although he tends to accumulate friends wherever he goes, he struggles to form deep connections, particularly romantic relationships. He can come across as a sweet, slightly airheaded tender person, and it's not completely unfounded but part of that is a defense mechanism. He craves control, right down to what everyone else thinks of him.

Medication keeps his ADHD from ruling his life, but obviously it doesn't wash the symptoms away entirely. He's always been consumed by a variety of hyperfixations and interests that take over his life for a while and then fizzle away, sometimes to be circled back to, sometimes not. He enjoys traveling, and loves changes of scenery, and the idea of moving was an attractive one. At first it felt like it was a hard call to put any distance between himself, his sisters and the city he grew up in, but a friend of his from college lived in a seemingly idyllic town and in the end the decision to move came easily. So he packed up and found himself in Hemlock Springs, excited for all of the potential that came along with making a life somewhere new.

He works 3 12- hr shifts a week, 7pm- 7:30 am, and then has 4 days off. His wardrobe largely consists of pink and yellow, lots of shirts with funny sayings or random patterns and prints. He makes time to go on daily runs with his dog, a big, white standard poodle named Tulip, and on his days off from work he tends to stay busy. He's a very high energy person and gets stressed out if his life isn't scheduled down to the minute in his flashy planner.

[smol-forest-gremlin]

Search for friends and a caregiver!

DNI: NSFW/kink, maps/pedos, anti-lgbtq+, anti-agere, any form of racism, sexism, ablism and any other bigotry

Hello to those who have found this post or my blog! I’m in the process of re-dying my hair so as it sets I figured this would be a good time to make this post.

Honestly I felt like an attention seeker so I wasn’t sure I’d ever make this so please bear with me a bit!

First a little bout me, well hello my name is Gremlin. I am ftm and xenogender, my pronouns being he/him/xe/xem though I’m comfy with most other neos too! I’m almost 18, though I regress to the age range of 0-2. My regression plays a huge role in my life and impacts my personality, and comforts greatly. I regress mostly involuntarily due to trauma, stress, neurodivergency and mental health issues. I am autistic, have adhd, c-ptsd, ocd, anxiety and depression. These can be crippling but I do my best to cope and create an environment comfy for me. I dream about one day living in an little cottage home, with a reading nook and shelves lined in books, with a nursery/sensory room, garden and cats (I LOVE cats). Photography is my passion and hopefully I’ll have a business one day to celebrate life, nature, different cultures and identities. Thought I am going into school for forensic sciences. I’m a huge weeb. I love dnd and anime and my comfort character is Aizawa Shouta from bnha. I love to read an colour and take naps (I’m always tired and have a bit of a caffeine addiction). I love sea pancakes too! I love stuffies and pacis, cuddles, diapers, bottles and being held or coddled. I’m an easy and sensitive baby so honestly, loyalty and communication is very important to me. I have a very young headspace and it can be very vulnerable and isn’t always pretty. I’m not one for crowds or loud noises and honestly don’t like the sun or outside despite loving being connected to nature. I love the aquarium and books store… but never let me go alone or I buy all the books… I tend to present kinda goth with the occasional pastel but my heart lies in cottage/goblin core.

What I want in friends: Any gender or sexuality (but I’m most comfy with queer folk) and I’d love someone who has stuff in common with me. I love making friends with other neurodivergent people and finding those in the disabled community but they are not requirements. Please be 16 closer to 17+ though no older than 26 (dunno why 26 just brain saying good number??).

What I want in a cg: I have a lean towards masc people but I’m open to anyone. 17-23 only. Someone okay with diapers and baby space, who loves cuddles and will communicate. I have huge abandonment and attachment issues so please keep that in mind as I may be clingy. Please be kind, patient and gentle, don’t yell and check in on me through the day. I’m not great at taking care of myself and I forget stuff a lot.

I typed too much though I’m sure I have more to say later. If you’re interested in being my friend or cg message me here and thank you taking the time to read this. I’ve been feeling very lonely to the post it hurts and makes me sick so I hope to meet some wonderful people.

Thank you all and be safe, drink water and love yourself because I love you <3

[devouredead]

This is a question from @crippled-lavender 's cripple ask game!

4. ] if you have chronic fatigue, what’s your “normal” on the scale and what do you consider a good day on the scale?

I'm autistic as well as crippled so I really had no idea that fatigue, much less chronic fatigue, was a thing for the longest time, until someone brought it up point blank. I remember thinking, Wait, what? Everyone isn't just constantly exhausted? And not just 'getting the hell over it?' (As I was constantly told to do as a teen and young person) (There is a conversation to be had about how we all over exhausted, including typical abled people, because none of us get enough sleep, we're all addicted to caffeine, and we all work too much for too little and are permanently stressed, but that's not what we're talking about right now) Not everyone has chronic fatigue naturally, it is a common symptom of my diseases. I was actually relieved to learn about it because it really did explain so much, including the days when I just needed to sleep and was so tired I couldn't seem to even wake up properly. I had no idea why I felt like the life was draining out of me, and just felt so lazy, even if I all wanted, what I'd planned to do was working on things. A good day is when fatigue's about a two or so. I think on average I'm about five. I can't remember the last 'zero' day I had. I never wake up feeling refreshed or wakeful or anything and that really sucks, because I used to. I also don't seem to dream anymore, which I can't decide whether I like or not. My dreams were often oddly accurate and can be frightening, but they were also vivid and strange and familiar, in the same world I'd lived in (dreamed in) since I was young, and I miss it. Maybe it's good? I don't really know.

Disclaimer: I never have gotten asks (that haven't been personal attacks) so I just enjoy answering the questions. Please keep in mind the original post specifies that crippled (physically disabled only) are invited to use the specific questions.

[maximuswolf]

What is your dumbest coffee story?

What is your dumbest coffee story? I'm sitting in a car rn now thinking about how crazy my caffeine withdrawals get and reminiscing about how it all started. I was never a complex coffee drinker in high-school. I would dump about half a container of creamer and apound of sugar in one of those mega sized thermos' before putting in the coffee, filling what ever room was left. Well, I went to my first college orientation with my mom l, who has a terrible case of sleep apnea. Needless to say, I suffered after a 6 hour drive, laying in a motel room with one bed, and getting up at the crack of dawn just to go listen to faux pep school spirit lectures. This was the turning point where slight coffee enjoyment would become a crippling addiction. I never had Starbucks before, but my mom who swore she was struggling as much as I was, pointed out to me that the campus had one in the lobby. I asked her what she got and she said something along the lines of a double espresso shot. I can be a very literal person, so along with naiveté, I took this as very black and white. Splitting away from my group, went up the Starbucks counter, overwhelmed at the menu because I had no idea what a venti was? Was it Spanish? Maybe Italian? Like hell would I have known. With the confidence of a cougar in a frat house, I looked a the barista and said, "I'll just get a double espresso." That confidence was shattered when the barista looked at me with confusion and said, "Is that all?" I'm sure he knew I had no idea what I was doing but just accepted that there was a lesson to be learned here today and I was gonna learn it. They served my double especially shot and I scurried out with my teenie tiny cup. There walls were glass, so I know they watched me take a sip of my tiny cup and scrooch my face in disgust. There was never something so bitter. I believe that was the day my soul died. Or maybe I sold it to the devil. But never again could I live without atleast two shots of espresso in my coffee. Once a day. Everyday. Submitted March 25, 2023 at 09:24AM by Sucrose_Peaches https://ift.tt/NbqZlAm via /r/Coffee

[fluffyzoey]

OK STARTING WITH OCEAN

-From a very young age, Ocean knew how to be self sufficient, as if her stoner parents would actually bother taking care of her! She was 8 when she started cooking her own meals, washing her own clothes, etc. She does some of this for the choir, not because she likes it or to be motherly but because its so familiar she can de-stress to it

-Ocean’s straight A’s are a product of constant overworking and a crippling addiction to celsius energy drinks. She runs on pure stress and caffeine, she always kinda looks a mess

-She and Noel don’t really hate each other as much as it seems. They annoy each other, sure, but they have each other’s backs. She’d cook for him while he let her use his shower and soaps and stuff because she couldn’t bear the smell of her parents weed.

and for Grace

-Possibly the opposite of Ocean. She hasn’t gone a day without mommy and daddy packing her lunch and smiling at her as she walked through the door after school.

-Grace is a prude and takes pride in that because thats how she was brought up. She used to have a little behaviour chart when she was little, one with the paperclip. She liked it when the paperclip was on “holy”. Misbehaviour was tolerated, but too much would make it move to “sinful”

-So so so scared of herself. Scared of her dirty thoughts and her thoughts about girls, scared of any doubt that what she believes in may be false…

give me any Hatchetfield OR RtC character and I’ll provide you with my headcanons for them

Two fandoms with one stone