#hm it hurts to write that

[autisticlancemcclain]

Pidge stares hard at her twisted fingers. Her eyes have long since begun to burn, and she holds her face carefully parallel to the floor, knees presses to the sides of her head, watching as her vision gets blurrier and heavier, until eventually the tear drops from her eyes and splatters on her glasses.

“How did you handle it?” she asks hoarsely, not even looking up. “The homesickness.”

For a while Lance doesn’t say anything. His breathing is steady and near-silent, quick little inhales and long, shallow exhales. Practiced breathing, when he’s choking back tears. He does it several times a day. Sometimes Pidge can’t stand to look at him. She doesn’t understand where he puts it all, the sadness that is constantly bubbling out of him. Doesn’t understand where he finds the strength to let his voice get choked up in the middle of a sentence and keep going like there’s nothing wrong. She feels hot shame heat up her own body, in the clear absence of his; a secondhand embarrassment at emotion that shouldn’t be advertised so easily, so trustingly, so constantly.

Eventually he sighs. When Pidge looks up there are tears in his brown eyes, as there so often are, but she fights the urge to look away and tucks herself under his open arm, instead.

It’s warm, in his hold. Bony too. But he holds her without fear of squeezing too tightly, winds his long arm around her back and shoulders and presses her face into his neck. He smells, as he always does, of flowers, although Pidge could not identify what kinds, and she imagines that she’s sat under the rows and rows of shelves in her mother’s greenhouse, watching her work. Her hands shake so she winds them around the creases of Lance’s jacket and grips tightly.

“I don’t,” he says after thinking about it. “I carry it with me. I always have.”

Pidge thinks she knew that, in her bones. She thinks she understood that about Lance from the very second she first saw him, two years ago at the Garrison auditorium in September; this boy who slouched and grinned and shot finger guns and laughed like a hyena and cried four times a day. The boy whose eyes were deep and dark and filled with an abyssal pain that hurts to look at. Off-putting.

“That sounds lonely.”

Lance hums. He shifts, resting his chin on the top of her head. She feels the slow drip of his tears, down his nose and plopping onto her scalp, and parcels at how his heartbeat doesn’t change, the ease in his voice. The shaky steel of it.

“It is. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t. Lonely. It’s just something I carry.”

Her breath shudders out of her, big and large and shaking her shoulders. She hears what he doesn’t say: I have gotten used to it. She thinks to herself: I will never get used to this weight.

She says: “I don’t understand.”

Ever so slowly, he begins to rock them back and forth, barest sway of their bodies. His lips press her hairline. Her face crumples and her breathing quickens as she forces down the tears, shoves back the mirroring feeling, the mixing of Lance and Matt happening in her head.

“When I was four my oldest brother moved away. He was getting married. I never got over that, I don’t think. He lived down the street longer than he lived down the hall but I never really stopped missing him.”

He pauses for a moment, and Pidge knows it’s deliberate in the way his whole body stops moving, pondering, before starting again.

“Sometimes I miss him on purpose.”

Pidge pulls away, enough to look him in the face, to watch his sad eyes and slight smile and the familiarity in the uncanny expression, the Lance of it.

“Why?” she asks desperately, hands twisting further in his sleeves. “Why would you ever — on purpose?”

“Because I love him on purpose.” The tears drip down Lance’s face as a steady waterfall and he doesn’t even flinch at them, doesn’t even blink. Lets his eyes fill and spill over again and again like cupped hands under a leaking faucet. “When I miss my mom I love her. When I miss my sister I love her. When I miss my brother I love him. When I miss Keith I love him. When I miss you, I love you.” He gently pulls his sleeves away from her clutched fingers, wrapping his hands around them instead and squeezing. “The grief hurts like a never healing wound. But I’m terrified of not having that. I don’t want to wake up one day without the reminder of how deeply I’ve loved and how deeply it will always be a part of me, that love. I don’t know how I’d ever function without it.”

“You don’t function with it,” Pidge argues. “It — haunts you. I see it in your face.”

Lance shrugs. “I function with it. I function because of it. Every day that I miss them I live because I will miss them until I see them again. It’s an — anticipation, almost. I miss you and I can’t wait to see you again mean the same thing.”

A strange noise bursts out from Pidge’s throat, gut-punching. I miss you and I can’t wait to see you again mean the same thing.

She misses her brother in her bones. Her father in her blood. Her mother in her heart.

Waiting to see them again pulses at every level in her body. That’s — manageable.

“Oh,” she says, and she means oh, in the way you blink your eyes open in the mornings. Oh, I see now. Oh, that hurts. Oh, it’s bright.

Lance squeezes her hands again. “There are worse things than loving so much it hurts you,” he says softly.

“Oh,” Pidge says again. “Oh.”

#i have been carrying this for a while i think #hm. anyways #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #pidge #pidge holt #pidge & lance #brown eyed lance #langst #pidge angst #pidge is so young actually #hurt/comfort #klance #like barely and if u squint but idc #my writing #fic #longpost

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

PLEASE MORE BUTTERFLY HOWDY CONTENT HES SO FUCKING SILLY

OKAY HERE'S A COMIC SHENANIGANS THING

#this looks best if you click through instead of scrolling #which is kind of stupid to say After The Post. but yk. #spent way too long on this. worth it tho #its always worth it For The Bit #and this was good practice! ty for the opportunity! #the version of butterfly!howdy i have in my head is. hes a lot. i love him <3 #scribble salad #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #howdy pillar #yassified howdy <3 #i am so so so soooo tempted to make a butterfly howdy tag just to compile it all #i love compiling things. i like having specific collections In One Uninterrupted Place #alright well my hand hurts and its 5 am so im gonna queue this and go sleepies #wait fuck whats in the queue for tomorrow. today. #hm... ok this is a sunday post then. tomorrow is Booked #yall get a brief break from the butterfly howdy shenanigans #*got. im speaking to future people from the past rn. wild. ty tumblr for allowing time travel #its a tangled mess of yarn anyways #i am once again So Tempted To Write For This #perhaps one day i will fulfill my dream of writing a fic about howdy chrysalizing. metamorphosizing. whatever #id make it slowburn laughingstock perhaps... Probably.... i care them too much not too.... #something for future me to enjoy! as a treat <3

[cerise-on-top]

Hii!! :3

First of all, LOVE YOUR BLOG!!Your writing is so good!! May I request Rodolfo Parra x reader who is touchy? Like, they won’t if he doesn’t like it, but it’s a safety thing, like him being taller than me (even not by much) makes me secure, feeling his arm muscles to know he can protect me, holding his hand until he pulls away.

thank you!! :3

I don't think you understand the extent to which my Rodolfo is touch starved, he really wants a hug, and the ones that Alejandro give him don't really cut it, at all! Mans wants to be hugged and cuddled, so this is sort of just ideal to him!

Rodolfo with a Touchy!Reader

In all honesty, he’s hit the jackpot with you if you’re a touchy person. While he may not initiate too much physical touch himself in fear of coming off as clingy and annoying, he’s actually so touch starved, it’s unreal. If there weren’t some mental barriers there, then he’d absolutely love to touch and cuddle you whenever he could. Would love to kiss you, would love to hold you. He’s one of the biggest cuddlebugs on the planet in theory, but in practice he’s holding himself back due to the aforementioned reasons. However, he has no qualms whatsoever if you’re the one touching him, in fact, he’ll revel in it for as long as he can, or until you pull away. He gets a bit sad when you do, but he knows you’ve got better things to do as well from time to time.

Please do hold onto his arm when you’re walking somewhere, it makes him feel like the stronger guy out of the two of you. He just wants to make sure you feel safe and sound with him, and if he can accomplish just that? Heaven on earth, literally. Hold his hand, he’ll squeeze it every once in a while to make sure you know he’s still with you. You can even give him a hug in public where everyone can see you, he’ll shield you with his entire body and make sure to catch every single bullet that could come flying at you. While he’s not too big of a fan of kissing in public, thinking such a thing should be reserved for when the two of you are alone, he loves feeling your lips on him just about anywhere. Wanna kiss his cheek? His forehead? His lips? He’ll give you twice as many kisses back.

From time to time he might get a bit overwhelmed with all the affection, that’s when you might want to tone it down a bit. When he’s just downright pissed at someone or something, he’s less prone to being cuddly, but he’ll calm down eventually. Distract him, help him, give him some loving words, and he’ll be back to his usual self. Once he’s calmed down he might be a bit tired from all those emotions, so he might want some cuddles. Likely won’t ask for them, but he knows you’re always eager to cuddle him anyway.

While he does love holding something, or someone, when relaxing, nothing, to him, feels better than being held. That’s his guilty pleasure, being the little spoon, but you won’t catch him dead admitting that. In fact, he won’t even hint at wanting to be such, but he would absolutely never turn you down when you offer. Feeling your warmth against his back is nice, doesn’t matter if you can wrap yourself around him entirely or if you’re a backpack, he just wants to feel protected for once too. However, if something ever were to happen, then he’s the first to jump into action and beat the living daylights out of anyone who dares to intrude on such a sacred moment.

Hell, you can even put your head in his lap. He’ll lovingly stroke your back or your head, looking completely lovestruck at you. It’s a major sign of trust for him, especially when you’re slowly dozing off. Won’t move an inch if you do and will just continue to pat your hair, staring at you instead of the tv monitor. If you want, you can also adjust him so his head is in your lap instead, he would never say no to that either. In fact, if he’s comfortable enough, he might nuzzle into your hand, realize what he’s doing and get a bit embarrassed. He usually feels the need to be the big, strong man in your relationship, that he really shouldn’t be showing so much weakness, but how could he resist your tender, gentle touch when it’s right there? Showing you a glimpse of how touch starved he is is just about one of the most mortifying things out there, but he can’t help it. It simply feels so good.

He absolutely adores the fact he can make you feel safe. Again, he won’t really initiate much physical contact himself, but he will stand fairly close to you so you may, if you feel like it, just grab his hand and swing it around a bit as you’re walking around. You can lean into him, there’s a chance he might wrap an arm around you to make sure you won’t fall over. He loves that he can be your support system in a way that makes him happy as well. You get to touch him, he gets to be touched, it’s the most perfect symbiotic relationship out there.

At the end of the day, you both get to feel safe and sound with one another, because of your presence and because of your love. You protect each other and make sure the other is thriving, what thing in this world could possibly be more pure than that?

#cod #cod x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra x reader #I think I need Rodolfo to be real right about now #He has the cutest name I've ever heard and I want to give him a hug despite not being a touchy person myself #I would make him a marble cake and give it to him while it's still warm mans has been through way more than he should #Alejandro already appreciates this man to hell and back but more love definitely wouldn't hurt #I just really love the idea of Alejandro and Rodolfo being very very close #supporting each other as well as they could #and Alejandro would be so happy to see Rodolfo have an s/o who takes good care of him and makes sure he's thriving #he'd strive to be among their best friends instantly because he cares this deeply about Rodolfo #they both just want to see him smile and it's one of the purest things since Rodolfo is usually so stressed out. he deserves a break #los vaqueros are good I think I can appreciate the more ever since I started writing. I did not care this deeply for them while watching mw #wish they were real so I could befriend them hm #oh well thank you for the request! I'm always down for cute and fluffy stuff like that so this is a real treat!

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The Caregiver (LU Twilight Ficlet)

Dusk usually soured Twilight's mood, but today it was the rain. Or the walking. Or the constant fighting they'd been doing recently. He wasn't sure. Maybe it was none of those things.

Some days just weren't good days.

After the chores were done, Twilight offered to do a perimeter check and disappeared into the forest, shifting into his wolf form. He felt... different when he was like this. He supposed it was a stupid observation to make, saying one felt different when one was a wolf. Of course that would feel different.

But it was more than just the physicality of it. Like this, he was considered a monster. Like this, he was considered a sweet friend. Like this, he wasn't expected any heroic duties. Like this, people were afraid of him. Like this, he could just be with animals and nature. Like this, he could be left alone.

Like this, he couldn't cry.

Today just wasn't a good day. Anxieties and worries filled him, words biting into his mind like beasts tearing his sanity apart. Things that would usually be a quick observation that he would swat away suddenly returned with reinforcements, ready to trample him into the dust.

Four hated shadow magic, and Twilight used it extensively.

Time was happily married, Sky was head over heels in love with someone who probably loved him just as much, and Twilight was alone.

Wild could have breakdowns because everyone understood that he was a mess, and Twilight had to be the strong one for him even if he felt like he was going to fall apart.

Warriors had so many reasons to be a broken mess yet he wasn't, and Twilight had so few reasons yet he was.

Hyrule and Legend had no families, and Twilight had one that adored him yet he treated them poorly, he was never around anymore for them.

Wind had seen too much at his age but still had hope, and Twilight had a peaceful wonderful childhood and was filled with nothing.

Sometimes... sometimes Twilight just wanted it to end. Sometimes he wished he could sleep as well and as long as Sky seemed to, and sometimes he was so insane with energy and had nothing to do with it.

Four would hate him if he knew. Wild would never rely on him if he saw how Twilight hurt too, he wouldn't want to burden the Ordonian with his problems. Sky and Time would offer sympathetic words or touches but that didn't change the hollowness inside him. Warriors would tease and try to perk him up, and it would only emphasize how much better the captain was. Hyrule, Legend, and Wind would offer their support in their own ways, and it would highlight Twilight's pathetic state of mind even more.

Who else would hate him, he wondered. Would it just be Four? Hyrule might hate him, with as much magical energy as he has about him, shadow magic probably felt like a disease to him. If he showed his true nature, revealed all his secrets, his thoughts, his desires, his beliefs, his feelings... who else would hate him?

Who would be disappointed in him?

A choking sound emitted form his throat, making his chest burn. He couldn't cry as a wolf, but it would still try to escape.

Just let it out. No one's here.

Twilight shifted back into Hylian form and collapsed into a pile of leaves. The tears came in waves, racking his body with violent tremors and muffled sobs before leaving him drained and exhausted, and then it would start anew. He felt like his heart and mind were screaming at each other, his heart taking him and shaking him to his core until he was depleted while his mind told him to get over it.

Others have it worse. I need to take care of them. I have no excuse to feel like this. So what if they hate me for who I am, for what I think and believe, I can help them and support them until we get to that point. They don't have to know who I really am. And if they find out, then...

Then what? What would he do when he was an outcast to some of his brothers? If he couldn't support the others because they were afraid to bother him? He wasn't foolish with his emotionalism, he knew he wasn't going to be thrown out or anything, but... but he imagined he would be shunned. The bitter cold stabbed him from the inside out, making the tears spring fresh as if he hadn't cried four times already.

This was so stupid. He knew better than to let this upset him.

But today just wasn't a good day.

So much time passed the sun had completely faded behind the horizon. Twilight shivered as the damp cool air of night settled into his skin. It chilled the hot tears that stained his cheeks and slammed reality into his soul like a slap to the face.

Twilight took a deep breath, wiped his face clean, and rose.

Perhaps I will be an outcast if they find out. Perhaps some of them will hate me, and some will pity me to the point of exclusion. So they don't have to find out. I can support them as I am, with everything as it is. I can help them and be there for them, offer what little assistance I can provide.

They don't have to know who I am.

Twilight took another breath, steadying himself. He just wanted to help. The camaraderie meant the world to him, but he could live without it if need be. He just wanted to help. He could help - he knew Time's fate and could maybe alter it. He saw Wild's pain and had his trust, so he could help him through his trauma. Wolfie saw more than anyone, and Twilight could soothe the hurts the others held close to their hearts.

Twilight took a third breath, and felt whole again. Because this wasn't about him. It was about his family.

He went back to camp, and smiled when everyone greeted him.

Time watched him a little too long, eye discerning. "Everything all right?"

Twilight waved a dismissive hand as he walked to Wild, settling beside his little brother. "Of course."

#writing #linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu twilight #hm I should probably put this on ao3 too but can't be bothered to make a summary and do all the tagging crap #maybe later #I love how I say I don't do hurt/no comfort and then I write stuff like this lol #there's like... some comfort in here #Twi comforts himself #woot woot #obviously this takes place before wolfie reveal and all that jazz #To all the Twilights out there: I love you dearly and pls talk to me (or whoever is your support person) if you need to ❤️

[weltato]

hey there legend writer, got any hatchetfield fic recs? :3

Legend writer?? Where? 👀

Haha, I'm kidding, that's so sweet, tysm Anon! 💜💜

Oh boy, uhh-

Well, there's a @lilacthebooklover fic called World's Okayest Uncle which is about Paul being the unofficial uncle to all the kids in Hatchetfield. So far there's Richie, Alice and Pete, but it's still a really good read.

I haven't read it myself yet but @marvelmaniac715 wrote Gotta Get Back To School which is about the Lords In Black going to...you guessed it: school. It's also funny that the title is a line from the first show Starkid ever did - A Very Potter Musical ("I gotta get back to Hogwarts, I gotta get back to schooool~")

There is the series "The Guy Who Didn't Like... Fanfiction" by mynameisapoet_iamaphilip which has some really nice little short ficlets about specifically Paulkins.

Mortarboards by man_down_in_hatchet_town made me fucking cryyyy, so I definitely recommend that one if you want emotions about the NPMD kids.

Those are my top Hatchetfield fic recs, Anon! Hope you enjoy these :)

#lowkey kinda wanted to ramble about mine and lilac's hm fics but i refrained #are you proud of me? #im proud of me :) #starkid #team starkid #starkid fanfic #hatchetfield #npmd #nerdy prudes must die #hatchetblr #hatchetfield fanfic #fanfic rec #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #ao3 writer #not my works! #not my writings! #pls pls pls go read these they're really cool! #(pssst.) #traumatised paul matthews #sorry i had to put that in here. one of the fics is about hm and paul being hurt

[dathen]

I heard that a lot of people didn’t catch it on their first listen of episode 25, but I am FASCINATED by Arthur’s horrified whisper of “I killed him...” after Matthew died, before John reacted.  Less for that reflexive guilt, but more for how as soon as John started accusing Arthur of killing him, Arthur throws up his walls.  John seems to have missed that whisper too, with “Don’t you feel any remorse?” when Arthur’s first reaction was horror at himself.  But as soon as someone ELSE is accusing him, out come the claws and the hissing and spitting.  

I think John’s hitting more of a nerve than he realizes simply because Arthur is already seeing himself as a monster who lost his humanity: that first night with Yellow, drunken and exhausted, he recites the “Invictus” poem and says that “someone far more human than I” wrote it.  During his argument with John while trapped in the walls, he talks about being “lectured on his lost humanity by a god,” stating it as just an observable fact.  And before all that...Faust.   He’s already sure he’s less than human, but hearing it from the only friend he has left in the world?  That’s more painful than he can bear.

“I killed him,” Arthur says, a confession only he hears.  “You killed him,” John says, unknowing that the condemnation was already laid down.

#malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolent spoilers #arthur lester #john doe #saw a tag on my post saying arthur was chill about the exploding head thing and remembered that i was gonna write this up anyway #I think arthur is a MESS rn and is heading in a horrible direction but I also feel for hm #needless to say I also feel for John #why must these two keep hurting each other :((

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

yknow i enjoy tedependent as much as the next guy, and i get the temptation, i truly do, but i think implying or outright saying trent imploded his career and told the truth about giving up his source only or mainly because he had romantic feelings for ted takes away from what actually happened there?? like. him being willing to throw away his career and in such a spectacular way (not just quitting but actually probably fucking his chances of working further as a journalist at all, i gather) wasn't necessarily a rom-com moment in the sense that it was for ted or about his feelings for ted alone. it was about himself, his own growing dissatisfaction with the toxic world of sports journalism and the kind of writing he was doing, the desire for "something deeper". that's not to say there's no tedependent take on this, or that hypothetical feelings for ted couldn't or didn't play a role. but like, it's also about his own character development, even if it is driven by ted (as many of the characters' developments are)

#it is true that it might not have happened had it been someone else #but not necessarily like. #the potential romantic feelings and this stem from the same thing (ted being ted) but like #one doesnt cause the other #does that make sense? #like. ted (being... well‚ ted) inspires trent to be better #and the situation being that trent was basically put in the position where he had to hurt someone he both respects and like #clearly just likes as a person (romantically or not) is what made him apparently finally decide enough was enough #(AFTER writing the article‚ notably‚ so that might lend credence to the idea of trent choosing to be the one to write it #in order to make it somewhat kinder--however you feel about that) #anyway all this to say i do love tedependent though and it's also extremely funny if like #trent is explaining this to a family member or smth like 'and i just. being put in that position where i have to hurt someone i respect #someone i genuinely like and think is a good person. that just really gave me some perspective #on how i've been dissatisfied with my work and my job for a while. and i think i want something deeper #something more meaningful and fulfilling. something i can truly be proud of' you know all dramatic moving soundtrack #and then the music cuts and they're like #'hm and also your big embarrassing gay crush on him?' and hes like '[sigh] yes and also my big embarrassing gay crush on him.' #what if i made this a silly little oneshot. what then #trent crimm

[egginfroggin]

So this post got stuck in my head again.

Baby Sabi variant of I Told You So go brrrrrrrrrrr.

Some fluff under the cut -- and Emmet struggling with that thing that every parent of a baby does at some point: comforting the Wailing One.

"You are being verrrry loud."

The infant continued to scream.

Emmet released the largest of sighs and shifted her in his arms, bringing her up a bit higher against his chest. Her round face was puffy and red -- distress incarnate, it seemed.

"Extremely loud," he deadpanned. "Yet I feel like I've heard louder. Still. You are being loud. Why?"

Sabi squirmed, finally lapsing into precious silence to draw breath.

Snuggled down in the nest, Lord Braviary grumbled and peeked his head over the rim of sticks and down.

"Do you want to cuddle with Braviary? Is that it?"

Her lungs had been filled, and she set about emptying them for the umpteenth time.

He couldn't see anything wrong, which was what made this entire situation so... infuriating? Bothersome?

Concerning?

Emmet wondered -- not for the first time -- how, in all the world, he had wound up like this. Lord Braviary had picked him, and that he could understand the Clan abiding with.

But the tiny orphan he was currently holding while the moon crept towards its midnight zenith?

Baffling.

She was distinctly unhappy, clearly indescribably so -- though, if one asked him, he'd say she was doing a fantastic job of describing her misery despite her nonexistent vocabulary -- and apparently hurting, if the desperate edge to her tone did anything.

Well, her tone, and the odd buzz in the back of his head. It was almost like panic, though subtle, and it didn't shut up no matter how much he mentally swatted at it.

He knew that maternal instincts were strange, if logical things, but paternal instincts were an oddity that he'd never heard of -- assuming that that was what this incessant need to comfort was.

"Would a kiss help?" he offered, half sarcastic, and was met with still more dismay and distress.

Sighing again and desperately nearing defeat -- down would hurt to stuff in his ears, but he couldn't calm her down and he needed to sleep -- he leaned down and gently kissed her tiny forehead. It was feverishly hot from her fussing, especially in contrast with the chilly Icelands air.

Yet -- she quieted at that, prying her bright eyes open to peer up at him.

"... What?" He blinked at her, and she blinked at him. "Was. Was that all you wanted?"

Could babies be petty? He didn't know. Human babies were outside his area of expertise -- and he didn't know how he knew that, he just did, don't ask -- and that included their capacity for grudges, pettiness, mischief, and all other manners of intentional tomfoolery.

But, no, she hiccuped, and her tiny hands were wiggling under her blankets -- she looked like a tiny Cascoon that had been kicked in the face.

Another peck on her forehead, and she babbled, sparing his ears the symphony of misery she'd been conducting.

"... Is it your head?" he asked, leaning back to tilt his head at her. He shifted her to one arm, lifting his free hand to tap at her forehead.

She gurgled, squirming like she wanted to lean up against his hand -- he finagled the glove off, exposing his fingers to the cold air, and pressed his hand to her head.

Well.

As excessive as her methods of conveying the agony of a headache may have been, he could sympathize somewhat.

Braviary clucked from his nest, and he lifted a wing as Emmet looked up at him.

Emmet stared at his Noble for a moment, then looked down at where his bedding lay rumpled on the ground. It had most likely gone cold.

He huffed, softly, and plucked up a pillow, keeping a tight hold on Sabi as he bend to pick it up. She giggled at the motion, down-and-up, apparently in much better spirits.

Lord Braviary rumbled deep in his throat as Emmet clambered up into the nest and settled under his wing. The Noble was exceptionally warm, all fluffy and soft, and it was like being smacked in the face with solid Sleep Powder.

"Okay," he said, patting Sabi's head. She blinked her big, green eyes at him slowly, headache forgotten already under the crushing weight of sleepiness. "Back to sleep. For you. And for me."

He cut off with a yawn.

"Sleepytime junction is now boarding...."

Sabi cooed at that, a little, "'eeby," that was almost a word falling from her mouth as she fell asleep.

Emmet followed soon after, and Lord Braviary after him, huddled in the cozy nest.

#submas #subway boss emmet #warden sabi #lord braviary #i told you so au #eggin's writings #they're eepy your honor #anyway yeah. sabi gets headaches and nightmares from her visions #emmet was cold and that felt nice on her poor little aching head #hence why she calmed down #also skin-on-skin contact for babies is like. a calming thing #I know that it's usually talked about in relation to mothers and their babies #but honestly in this case emmet's basically the resident parent now #so sabi is taking what she can get #human contact in general is just. appreciated #anyway have some fluff #very odd for me hm yes nobody got hurt in this how odd #yes I typed this up in like. 20 minutes. and one sitting #on tumblr dot com even #i might post this to ao3 #anyway #here ya go #have a nice day lovely beans :>

[clusterbuck]

5x14 coda / part two: in which buck draws a heart 💖

buck was only supposed to supervise christopher’s homework, not participate. but eddie’s at therapy—eddie’s at therapy actually talking about his trauma, something buck knows for a fact he hasn’t done before despite spending countless hours sitting in frank’s office—and buck is full of a restless energy he can’t quite describe.

besides, he reasons. idle hands and—something about the devil, he’s not really sure how the saying ends. so when christopher reaches for a blank sheet of paper to start the drawing part of his assignment, buck grabs one too.

“alright, professor,” he says. “what’s up first?”

christopher looks at him sidelong, peering at him from under piles of scruffy hair. buck puts on his most innocent schoolboy expression, and it seems to work because christopher flips through his science book until he finds a spread of labelled anatomical diagrams.

“we’re drawing organs,” he says. “i have to do the brain, the lungs, and the heart.”

“sounds fun,” buck says, and christopher gives him what can only be described as serious side-eye.

“you have a weird idea of fun,” he says.

“you’ll understand when you’re older,” buck says, grinning.

“i don’t think i will,” christopher says, then points at a pink blob on the page. “i’m gonna start with the brain, because it’s easiest. it’s basically just a lump.”

“sounds like a plan,” buck says. he watches christopher get started, copying the outline of the brain carefully despite apparently not finding it fun.

then buck puts his own pencil to paper. he hasn’t drawn anything seriously in a while, but there was a while during what eddie calls his beach bum phase in peru that he tried to get into the whole art thing. it just sort of seemed like the thing to do. he’d never been great, but the shape he sketches on the paper mostly looks like a brain.

buck looks over to make sure christopher is focusing on his own paper, then adds large cartoon eyes on the top of the brain, and big bushy eyebrows above them, one cocked in surprise. he adds something that could be considered a nose, and a mouth in a vague approximation of a grin that sort of ends up resembling a scream. all told, it looks very much alarmed.

“okay,” christopher says, looking up from his neatly labelled diagram. “are you—buck.”

“what?” buck says, trying to keep his voice innocent. “it’s a brain.”

“is that what your brain looks like when you have an idea?” christopher asks, and buck bursts out laughing.

“yeah, buddy,” he says. “i think it might be.”

christopher grins. “next is lungs,” he says, turning the page and pointing at the diagram.

“lungs,” buck says. “okay, i can do that.”

he draws the lungs droopy and shades them in grey. he gives them eyes and draws them half-shut, then turns the paper sideways and draws a bed underneath them so it looks like the lungs are lying down.

“ready,” he says, and christopher holds up a finger. a few moments later, he displays a remarkably accurate diagram of lungs, and buck holds his drawing up proudly.

“it’s what someone’s lungs would look like after they get caught in a fire,” he explains.

“why are they sleeping?” christopher asks.

“smoke inhalation exhausts lungs.”

christopher sighs, but buck hears the laugh bubbling right under it.

“okay,” christopher says. “now the heart. it’s the hardest one, it’s really complicated.”

that’s another saying, buck thinks. something about the truth, and mouths of children.

hearts are really complicated.

only—he’s sitting at eddie’s dining room table waiting for eddie to get home from therapy, drawing more or less accurate anatomical diagrams with christopher, and his heart doesn’t feel complicated at all. he woke up in this house this morning, has been for the past—four days? five? he’s not really sure—and that doesn’t feel complicated at all.

in the evenings, after they put christopher to bed, he and eddie sit on the couch. side by side, just a fraction of an inch closer to each other than they maybe should be, they talk about—everything except the one thing he knows they should talk about. and that doesn’t feel complicated at all.

it only starts getting complicated when he thinks about the apartment he hasn’t been to in almost a week, and the fact that he asked taylor to move into it with him and left her alone in it. it gets complicated when he looks at eddie and christopher and feels a warm glow in his ribcage, only for it to turn to something cold slithering through his insides when he thinks of taylor.

it gets complicated when he remembers telling taylor he kissed lucy, and the relief he’d felt when she’d gotten mad, like a drowning man gasping for air. when he remembers how he’d hoped, somewhere on some level he’d never admit to anyone else, that she’d break up with him. that would have been an easy cause and effect explanation to give when people asked. not complicated at all.

but she’d come back, and he’d smiled and nodded when she’d said she wants to make it work, and that feels like the most complicated part of them all.

the heart he ends up drawing on his sheet of paper doesn’t look anything like christopher’s, but he’d wager it’s the more complicated one of the two.

“buck,” christopher says again when he holds up his drawing, somewhere between derision and outright giggling.

“this is what my heart looks like,” buck says. “look, it’s smiling, ‘cause i get to spend time with my favourite kid.”

“i’m your only kid,” christopher says, and buck thinks the flesh-and-blood heart in his chest might stop for a second.

“well,” he says. “there’s jee-yun.”

“yeah, but she’s your niece,” christopher says. “that’s different.”

and he’s so matter-of-fact about it, but the words settle deep in buck’s chest and stay there, beating in time with his complicated heart. because—it’s not that he hasn’t thought of himself as filling that role for christopher, parent-adjacent if nothing else, at least at times likes these when eddie needs an extra hand. but he’s always been wary of overstepping, always mindful to keep himself a little separate.

“why’s it different?” he asks, practically holding his breath as he waits for christopher’s answer.

“you’re her uncle,” christopher says, shrugging. “you’re my buck.”

you’re my buck, he says, so easy, so casual like the words don’t crack buck open and settle deep in his soul. you’re my buck, he says, like it’s obvious. you’re my buck, and water is wet, and the sky is blue.

“i—oh,” buck says. “okay.”

christopher, apparently, doesn’t realise he’s just knocked buck’s entire worldview off kilter. he just collects his textbook and gets to his feet, reaching for his crutches. “i’m gonna go do my math homework in my room,” he says. “dad says you’re bad at math so you can’t help me anyway.”

“i’m not—” buck starts, defence rising automatic in his veins, then he laughs. “yeah, you’re probably right.”

christopher glances at buck’s drawing, at the smaller hearts he’s started doodling around it without even realising. “you should give that to dad,” he says. “maybe he’ll put it on the fridge.”

buck laughs and reaches out to ruffle christopher’s hair. “you’re a menace, you know that?”

“but you love me,” christopher sing-songs, ducking out of buck’s reach and heading towards his room. and buck is pretty sure that if eddie was here, he’d glance at buck and huff, like, he gets that from you.

it makes buck’s complicated heart sing.

#911fic #buddie #buddie fic #911 spoilers #shush emma #hm i think i will leave part three of three for tomorrow bc my thumbs hurt lmao #emma writes

[casualavocados]

okay at first i was like, why is ayan threatening to tell people akk's the one bringing the curse back when he already said he wouldnt. ayan also claimed he didnt believe akk anymore about not stealing the notebook bc of what he’s "now" seen akk do - but he’s known akk was behind things since the beginning. and actually the only motive i can come up with is that he was worried about what akk would do if he was left alone that night, because akk kept trying to get away from him, and not letting ayan help him. so ayan threatened to tell people that akk was bringing the curse back if he didnt stop.

and i realized that... something huge about ayan's past is that he witnessed his uncle’s suicide. and IF im interpreting this episode correctly, you have to consider that aspect of trauma alongside the way he acts towards akk, & the reactions he gets from akk.

akk pushes ayan away when ayan says he needs to think of himself first. akk leans into ayan’s hug at first but then pushes him away again and tries to leave. so ayan follows and does what he’s done in the past. he threatens. he gets a rise out of akk, a confrontation akk can't back out of rather than an attempt to escape. and maybe ayan only does that because he’s scared. maybe he’s scared of leaving akk alone, not knowing what akk will do - whether it be continue the curse or something worse. he needs to make sure akk will stop.

so throughout the rest of the episode, as ayan drags akk back to the school to search for his notebook, it’s possible that what he’s really doing is just keeping akk busy. and it works because they settle back into the same teasing/exasperated relationship they had before. it smooths things between them. but the balance doesn’t truly tip into where it needs to be until ayan has his nightmare, and akk hurries to comfort him. after their conversation on the beach, things couldn't go back to the way they were before, but couldnt move forward either. akk isn’t the only one who needed to show weakness in this ep, ayan needed to as well. especially since while they were searching for the notebook he avoided akk’s question abt why it was important again. they both needed to lean on each other this ep. they both need to learn to trust each other. so i can’t wait to see what comes next, and how ayan eventually opens up about the truth of his relationship with dika and what happened to him.

#the eclipse #suicide mention #suicide tw #ive been thinking abt this all day trying to figure out why those scenes felt off and why this ep was written that way #and then i was like oh wait its the trauma. #i mean i HOPE thats what it is otherwise the writing doesnt add up #so hm. im thinking. #everything that follows the beach scene makes more sense if you work it under the idea #that ayan is scared of letting akk go without some kind of promise or resolution that he's not going to do this again #*because people could get hurt* #*because dika DID get hurt* #and he uses the only tactic he has that has so far worked against akk's need for control over a situation #me watching the dialogue in front of the bushes over and over and over trying to analyze everything abt it #their expressions akk's tension ayan's tone of voice #its gotta mean something more than what their words are saying and i think THIS is what its saying #but i could just be making shit up to compensate idk! #im trying so hard here bc they nailed the first and last emotional scenes but how they got from one to the other left me so stumped #and idk if THIS is what the writers meant to do or if its what im imagining to make myself feel better #the eclipse the series

[that-was-anticlimactic]

there’s something so sacred about sharing what you love with others: whether it be a song or food or clothes, a show or a movie or pictures. it's just... such a deep and personal thing, you know? having someone carve out a little part of their heart and gift it to you with an abundance of joy and excitement and passion... yeah.

#i lowkey had an awful day today lol #and it was my first day taking over as teacher so that's a great way to start it #there are people in seventh period who literally despise me and maybe that's an exaggeration but i looked over their creative writing for #the day and one of those kids literally wrote about how he was having a good day but then it turned into a bad day when i started the #creative writing with them so that was great and other stuff happened idk and one of my tics was really... uh... present today and i was so #aware of it and i feel like everyone was laughing at me because of it even tho ik that was just me being self-conscious but God i wanted to #cry and i shared a piece of my heart with them today for the creative writing exercise and so many of them just. told me how awful it was #like someone straight up started with 'this song is terrible' and then proceeded to write a paragraph about how bad it was #idk. it made me feel like a young kid again - sitting by myself on the playground and reading books. like i was in middle school and #everyone was telling me that the things that i loved were stupid. like i was a kid getting teased just lowkey enough that the teachers #couldn't tell because it wasn't necessarily outright bullying but they were making fun of what i loved which Hurts and then i was in high #school having to defend what i love and then in college hearing 'you ruined this for me because you liked it too much' and it just. idk. #it hurts. i find sharing passions and what i love with others so sacred and important and it Hurts when they just tear it and you down and #ik they're juniors and ik there will always be people like that but it was constant and idk. i'm just sad lol #so anyways even if someone shares something with you that you don't like there is literally No reason to be rude about it. you're allowed #to say you dislike it but it's not okay to just tell them straight up it's stupid or awful or you'd rather get hit by a car than hear the #song again. hm. ig i have some unresolved trauma lol #sorry for the rant y'all i just. needed to rant ig idk

[mortellanarts]

I miss posting my writing and I have like a thousand different drabbles but I'm scared they all feel very samey so I'm gonna democratize the choice out of the ones that are farther along so I can pick one to polish properly feel free to ask away if you wanna know more about anything and hi yes trick question they're all still Kurashiki angst

Also trick question again all but the last one are part of that not acknowledging canon au

#I'm so in love with writing about the most mundane shenanigans honestly you want domestic hurt/comfort? I got five of those in the oven #at any given moment #also addendum for the last one it's a lot of parental issues and sigma is kind of just there phi's the one I wanted to write #the second and third one are fun because I got artsy with the formatting to match all the Feelings ™ #the first and fourth one are the messiest but they do have a larger cast even if it stays introspective because. well it me #okay? okay; this will run for a week this is still such a spur of the moment thing for me to be doing qwq.... #writing #no main tags... hm I wonder

[keeps-ache]

#just me hi #i'm writing what's up lol #i'm trying not to get nitpicky about stuff but it's like second nature to me so i'm fighting every demon on my way down wip lane hfvsh #'first draft doesn't have to be perfect' well aware but also i don't get past first drafts so it's either bullseye or goodbye hfh #i haven't hit a flow so i'm in that weird zone where i write but as soon as i lose it i immediately close out the tab n start wandering #/decided to stand up to write for once. this is okay lol :) #my peets and knees will start to hurt at some point but eh #hm. i am not feeling the productivity from this stance i'm ngl hhbvfsh #i mean i Can just start full-on dancing when i feel like it which is pretty awesome so you know what maybe this has many more pluses i #haven't foreseen or seen hvfh #//oo i must goo... toodles :3

[willgrahamsleftear]

Can someone just beat me up I think it’d fix me

#ever since I was a little girl I’ve loved the feeling of being in pain because it was the only way I felt alive #I remember being in elementary school and trying to articulate my feelings and struggling to make people understand how I #didn’t feel alive #I remember writing in my notebook that I wanted to cut myself open. to rip out my intestines. #My teacher found it and was horrified of course and the school got involved #if I wanted to keep going to school I had to go to therapy. which didnt do anything anyway #Hm #All my life I’ve lived in a state of not really feeling. real. #no matter what I did #pain is the only thing that’s ever made me feel at my highest #I can’t feel pleasure without hurting #Pain magnifies every feeling tenfold #I can’t fully enjoy anything if it doesn’t hurt #isn’t that weird? #Hmm

[aparticularbandit]

please understand if i have either junko or ryoko (depending - it's complicated) say you found me at the end of the second fic, it is definitely a reference, and it is definitely a reference specifically to anohana.

if you know, you know.

#musings #bandit writes fic #dr1 end rewrite fic #i don't think it would hold the same weight though #there's SO much emotional weight to that in anohana #-sighs- #i'm just hurting myself over here #hm where's the clannad opening #for after story #because nagisa and rena are chisa so like #MORE PAIN FOR BANDIT #i should do naraku no hana to huh #i used to have the lyrics to that memorized it has been SO LONG #the openings for higurashi and higurashi kai were just so good #i liked kai's opening better #but the original op for higurashi was just SO emblematic of what higurashi WAS #just the SONG is creepy and it's GREAT for higurashi #-shudders- #ANYWAY PAIN TRAIN KEEPS A GOING

[dirt-str1der]

Self shipping is always the morally correct thing to do

#Listen to my problems #sometimes self shipping includes the slow and painful process of getting killed over amd over by your f/o thats okay youll get him #eventually. orrr herrrrr (motivational speaker voice). #let me think hm theres been three guys ive loved enough to be this crazy over. self shipping is always correct #if youre not self shipping thats okay but if you want to you should you should draw yourself vivisecting him while hes squealin and giggling #you should write about the two of you biting eavh other until you hit bone you should literally kill him with a knife and them cry over the #body and then bring him back to life and do it again just so you can cry over the body again #you have to grip him by the shoulders and spit in his fave and use all the things he trusted you with against him and you have to make him #hate you you have to make him unable to forgive you then you have to make him forgive you then you have to apologise to him #and then. ohh and then you hit him with all that shit again but make sure you quick save before that because he might not forgive you again #you need to make him swallow pennies before getting into the mri machine and you need yo tell him that itll be okay smd you both know hes #going to explode but he does it anyway because he knows youre going to bring him back and he fucking loves it he wants to do it #oh he doesnt just love it hes addicted to it he wants it to happen and youll make it happen for him youll force it to happen even if hes #begging you not to do it again you can make him do anything you want. you can make him hate you if you want. if thats what he likes. you can #do it for him and you can do it for yourself and you can do it even if you both dont want it to happen you can make him get on his knees and #beg and then you can do it anyway and you can make him so angry that he hurts you right back and you can let him end it and after that you #can do it all over again if you really wanted to ... anyway you self ship to scratch an itch i self ship to scratch an itch everybody wants #different things out of the fiction they consume .. we should get more character reacts when you say youre pregnant but kiryu would be like #um. (blushes) wait is it mine ? <- and you can tell him anything and he’d have to believe it #god i need to go to bed ... wish i was playing yakuza rn ......