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steddiecameraroll · 1 day

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Are we written in the stars, baby, or are we written in the sand?

Eddie acts like it's not eating away at him. This thing with Steve. They're friends, but friends don't screw each other's brains out. Do they?

Eddie wants to know what they are. Because he's not sure his heart is going to last much longer under the current circumstances.

Sure, he could ask Steve if they're the matching tattoos kinda thing or just a number written on a hand kinda thing. He hasn't yet, though. He's been spending months asking himself in his own head, hoping the answer would appear one day. It hasn't.

Jeff says Eddie's doing this to himself, has scolded him plenty of times since Eddie started whining about the situation. Eddie doesn't want to admit Jeff's right, but it's getting to the point he's not going to be able to ignore it much longer.

Every time Eddie slides into the driver side of his van after a night with Steve, his heart cracks a little bit more. This morning will, most likely, be no different.

"So, I'm going to head out."

"Yeah, OK." Steve smiles at him, his favorite coffee cup cradled in his hands, and Eddie could crawl into the man's lap and never leave but instead, he gives Steve a nod and spins on his heels.

Steve doesn't follow him to the door. He hasn't since they started messing around, but Eddie wishes he would. He thinks it would be nice getting that sweet goodbye kiss. Then being able to look at the front door when he's pulling away from the curb, and seeing Steve smiling at him and waving.

When did Eddie become such a romantic?

None of this bothered him at first. Nope, totally OK with the whole thing, but it's almost like every touch of Steve's lips or grip of his fingers compounds breaking Eddie's resolve.

Honestly, it fucking hurts.

But he’s a big boy so he sucks it up and keeps his head down, trudging to the door. He’s done this multiple times a week for months now. This morning isn’t any different.

“Eddie?”

Eddie’s feet stop along with his heart. He’s pleading desperately in his head, when he turns to see Steve standing at the end of the hallway. He looks as nervous as Eddie’s feeling.

“Would you- do you maybe wanna hang out today? If you have plans or whatever,” Steve scrunches his face. “I thought y’know, if you didn’t have any plans, we could hang out. Or g-go do something, together? If you wanted.”

“Yeah,” the word comes out on a puff of air. “I’d love to, actually.”

And the smile that appears on Steve’s face is blinding, written in the stars bright. Maybe Steve’s wondering too, been keeping distance between their hearts for safe keeping, and not because of lack of want.

“Just to be super clear,” Eddie takes a cautious step toward Steve. “This isn’t just hanging out, right?”

“Um,” Steve presses his lips together and gives a tight shrug. “What do you mean?”

Eddie stops moving once he’s standing in front of Steve. He wants to trust his gut, knows he should because it’s never steered him wrong before, but Steve’s hiding it so well. He needs to know for sure, so he reaches his hand out to take the tips of Steve’s fingers. Once their skin touches, he hears a soft sharp inhale from Steve and gets his answer.

Eddie pulls Steve closer until they’re wrapping their arms around each other. “Steve,” Eddie breathes.

“Hmm?” Steve leans his face into Eddie’s neck and slides his hands up the muscles of the man’s back.

Eddie can’t find the right words. This feels like it means something. This moment, as they hold each other with no motivation other than to touch, feels more intimate than anything they’ve done in Steve’s bedroom.

Eddie squeezes his arms tightly around Steve’s body, silently begging to never make him let go. “I wanna stay. Please, let me stay.” He’s whispering so quietly he’s not sure Steve can hear him.

Steve nods in Eddie’s neck while pressing a soft kiss against the skin. “I don’t want you to go. I never want you to go.”

Eddie huffs, squeezes his eyes together, and pulls Steve in somehow tighter. “Me either.”

Steve untucks and pulls back to make eye contact. “Will you go on a date with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

coffee? ☕️🍩💕

#might’ve gotten an old dominion ear worm stuck in my head #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddiecameraroll posts #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #my writing

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deathbxnny · 2 days

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Heyy! May i request gallagher, sunday and boothill with a reader who is like furina?

(hiding her problems and fears while acting happy and quirky)

~🎀

I absolutely love this idea, especially because it's about Furina, who I also love, hehe!! I also made this into a teen reader, which I hope you don't mind, anon!! I'm just craving some platonic stuff lately. So thank you for this request, Anon, and I hope you like my post!!<33

Content: Platonic relationships, teen reader, angst, hurt/comfort, manipulation/brainwashing for Sundays part, father figures hsr men, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

》GALLAGHER

Gallagher saw through your facade with ease yet didn't dare push you to reveal your true self to him for a multitude of reasons. He mainly, however, didn't want to overwhelm you, figuring that you hiding your true self was just a coping mechanism for a darker past you were desperately trying to keep away.

And so he let you prance around the bar in your fake grandiose personality, whilst he kept his eyes on you at all times just in case. He knew you'd break eventually, and not because he necessarily wanted that to happen. He just knew that a young kid like you couldn't hold out forever.

Whether you do finally let the facade drop one day or not is up to you in the end, however. He makes it clear indirectly that he's there for you no matter what. And even if you never reveal your darkest fears to him, he'll always watch over you anyway as well.

》SUNDAY

Sunday also immideatly notices that your rather loud and proud personality was all a facade to hide a dark past even he had yet to discover. And unfortunately for you, he doesn't shy away from confronting you for your own good. Some may say that it was a little harsh or maybe even reckless, but Sunday always believed to know better.

This most likely leads to you having to drop your mask and tell him the reasoning behind your fake smiles and quirky behaviors. Whether through your own will or his own is up to you to decide, although he also sees no shame in either. If it helps you, then he'll stop at nothing to make you feel better.

You can get angry at him, you can cry to him, you can also bury your face into his shoulder and let yourself get comforted by his sweet, soothing voice as well. He doesn't mind it. Even if some of it is influenced by his tuning ability. But you can't blame him for using his power on you, right? You understand that it is for your own good, yes? He just wants to help you.

》BOOTHILL

It takes a bit for Boothill to realise that your personality is fake, mainly because he sometimes finds himself doing the same thing at times. He only notices that something is amiss when you suddenly burst into tears, overwhelmed by your hidden emotions at last. And it all suddenly clicks in his head, that he couldn't help but knock on it in self-disappointment.

He's not good with emotions, but he likes to think that he was once good with kids. He'll pull an arm around you, pat your head, tell you that it's all good and to just let it alllll out to your old man Boothill. He doesn't mind your tears staining his steel, an old memory of him soothing a young toddler coming to mind when he allowed you to cry into him.

He knows that as galaxy rangers, you should be independent from him, fully able to be on your own and deal with your emotions as they come. But he finds himself simply making you promise to be yourself from then on as you continue on your journey together. He may be breaking some rules... but it's all good in his book, If you're happy with it, too.

Alrightttt... I hope this was okay Anon!! And thank you again for the request, I loved it!!<33

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr gallagher x reader #hsr gallagher #sunday hsr #hsr sunday x reader #hsr boothill #hsr boothill x reader #gallagher x reader #gallagher #sunday #sunday x reader #boothill #boothill x reader #hsr

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rise-deepseamonster · 2 days

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I don't think any season will affect me as deeply as Bridgerton S2.

Ever experience that Anthony and Kate have with their family is a direct reflection of an older sibling's struggles to keep everyone together with only one parent half present, taking on the major part of the responsibility as the head of the house.

Starting with the scene where Edmund dies in Anthony and Violet's arms. It's a clear start of the divide between Anthony and his siblings in terms of being classified as "children". Violet tells him to keep the "other children" from not witnessing what he just witnessed, him having to take charge while he watches his only remaining parent fall apart in despair and anguish. Him begging her to get more involved with the rest of his siblings because he is so scared he is going to mess things up, so scared because he is not his mother and he is not his father. I wonder how many dinners he sat with the rest of his siblings after his mother refused to eat with them and made small talk with his siblings or sat in awkward silence. I wonder how long it took for him to master the small talk and eventually learn everything his siblings were up to so that he can talk to them about it and work in the shadows to make things better (like he thought he was doing with Benedict and the art school). All while trying to encourage his mother, listening to her wish that the baby had done her the kindness of killing her so that she could be with her husband. Watching his expression during that scene was particularly brutal:

Clearly trying to hang on by a thread as he listens to his mother's suicidal wishes and hope he will have a parent that lives to the next day so he wouldn't have to witness death and wouldn't have to be the only parent left for his siblings, because god help him, I knew he thought he was failing them by just existing and not being his father.

Then the birth of Hyacinth.

When he is asked of an impossible choice between his new family, his to-be sibling and his own mother, his parent, the only person left who is supposed to take care of him. He is not ready to see another parent die in front of him. But he sees his mother begging for her husband, begging for a choice in the matter, driven by pain and grief and sees the doctor calmly ignoring it and asking him. What does he know? He is a child, as his mother says. He wants his father too. He should also be in one of the rooms with his siblings, maybe soothing them and listening to Daphne sing instead of being demanded a choice of lives. He wants his mother to live another day because he cannot fathom the responsibility and the loss he will have to handle otherwise. He wants to demand that they save the mother, you can see it in his eyes but as he sees her begging for the choice, he makes the only one that he hopes his father would approve of.

And thus begins his lifetime of choices that he hopes would be in the interest of everyone else, that he hopes his father would approve of. All while secretly believing that his family hates him for the mistakes he makes as a young, inexperienced man taking all the responsibilities prematurely. And make mistakes he does! Because he lives by a set of rules he hopes the mirage of his dead father might follow, he cannot see that his other siblings are capable and allowed to make their own choices as well (yes yes regency era meant no choices for women but whatever) and constantly made terrible choices for Daphne's personal life in the interest of "protecting" her.

Similar mistakes from Kate. (god what is it about older siblings wanting to do whatever it takes to give what THEY perceive as the best to their siblings?)

She lies and hides and manages Edwina's entire interaction with everyone in the hopes that her sister will be encouraged only into the most wonderful perfect whirlwind of a romance to the best man alive, only to completely neglect and pretty much gaslight her views onto her sister.

This sentiment? Let me just break it down (from my perspective, there can be many different views and any and/or all may be true including that this is just the way Edwina's personality is): Kate wants Edwina to pursue love, to pursue the match of her wants by choosing the best, the brightest, the smartest, the most charming, etc. Because Kate always tells her that thats what she deserves, and its true, she does deserve the best (well, the best for her that is). You see, when you narrow people down to "selecting the best, being the best" etc, you end up making people think that because they are considered the best by the general population (the season's diamond and most eligible bachelor) that they are destined to be together, to make a stunning, powerful match. Edwina is never given a chance to even understand what best truly means for her and what she deserves (and obviously Anthony never thinks about it lol) and is enamored by getting the best of the best. Why? Is it some sort of ego that's fed to her by Kate? The opposite really. It is her own version of trying to show her family that she can excel at things and make them proud. Which is why when she inevitably fails, she somehow thinks she could've done better to please him and treats the whole thing as a test to her as a person, the person her sister had (in Edwina's mind) worked so hard to cultivate and educate to be the best of the best. And in a society where her worth is determined by her husband, if she didn't get the best of the best man, was she really living up to the work that was put into her?

"You have choices"

Ngl, that line is probably something she deep down wishes she had in some recess of her subconscious mind or smtg. It is only because Kate is actually there for Edwina emotionally that Edwina doesn't become a complete people pleaser (though lets be clear, she is definitely one, literally changes like a chameleon to fit everyone's likes. Ain't no one that well liked and Daphne clocked that early on).

I am not saying I hate older siblings and that they are the worst controlling beings on the planet. I am myself an older sibling. Actually I think because I'm an older sibling, it makes me even more horrified when I watch the season because I can clearly see the mistakes they are committing even as I know I would do the same in their case. I understand the pain and desperation that drives them, the self-loathing, the mindset that we must deny ourselves any sort of happiness and pleasure because concentrating on ourselves mean that we are neglecting everyone else. The armor we put on to seem the strongest, the meanest, the one who would throw the first punch after an insult flung at their family, the last one to step down from a fight all for our family, all in the name of family.

These two? They would lay down their lives for their siblings. If asked, they would sacrifice themselves with dark magic so that their siblings would never know the pain of a pin prick. Because they know pain and they never want their siblings to feel it. And so they control and manage and make sure everything goes the way they need it to, the way, the only way that their family can be safe and happy. All while they deny themselves the same painless happiness.

Anthony literally refused to fall in love so that he would never have to put his siblings through the kind of pain he went through as he saw his mother sit numbly for months after his father's death, barely existing through everyday. Kate barely viewed herself as Lady Sharma's daughter because she put both her and Edwina on such a high pedestal and stood guard at the bottom of it.

Both of them, oldest siblings resigning and steeling themselves and reassuring themselves that this is what they deserve, this is the price to be paid for the happiness of their family. Then resigning themselves to a life of loneliness, all while their family looks on at them with the greatest pity because they cannot understand for the life of them why their protectors, their loved ones, their older brother/sister would put themselves through things that obviously made them miserable.

And as it does, their pity will turn to frustration and if unchecked, to resentment or bitterness. Secrets and lies and controlling behaviors always come with a cost, no matter the intention. But not only that; What most oldest siblings forget is that everyone needs a role model to look up to and usually people find it in their siblings, their parents or someone else in the family that they know well. With the walls you've erected, they barely know you at all. And what you do display is only misery and burden. I cannot stress how much it pains them to see that in the people they love and how much it affects them.

So anyway, to older siblings out there. Prioritize yourselves. It is literally better for your siblings if you do. Love them, protect them but also teach them through example to make their own choices in life and be stable and happy yourself.

Also do you think he wanted to scream during this scene? Because personally I would've told her "OFC. OFC lilacs were his favorite. Because I was there when he died picking lilac/violet flowers for his wife named Violet, YEAH I fucking KNEW."

His mother telling him that she knew what he wanted and that he wanted love was probably the final testament to how little his family knew him. He was probably incredulous at the thought of his family wanting him to find love. Why tf would they think he wants that??

Why would he want love when it was the very same thing that ruined his mother after his father's death? The same thing that had left her so broken and numb that he had to be awake and pick up the pieces of his family as he could not afford to do the same.

The pain that parents inflict through their own grief/rage etc are things that really leave a lasting impact on the kids huh?

Also yes, I did cry when Lady Sharma told Kate that she always viewed her as a daughter and she was never an outsider to the family because she WAS family, man that shit had me bawling. Nothing ever prepares me for the loneliness of dealing with the consequences of "doing what you think is best" when it comes to other's lives.

Sorry for how all over the place this rant is. Tell me if I missed anything and what all older sibling behavior yall do and how called out this shit made u feel.

#absolutely called out by this season #I went and immediately started talking to my sister more and telling her about my hopes and dreams for myself and asking about hers #what she wants and how she wants to do it and how to help her figure out what she wants #this shit called me out big time #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #kathani sharma #kathani bridgerton #kathani and anthony #colin bridgerton #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton s3 #bridgerton netflix #penelope featherington #kanthony #polin

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lavvylove · 2 days

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Overwhelmingly In Love

This is my first time really writing on this platform in a fanfiction sense so I really hope this reaches the right people. I love Spencer and I kinda envisioned the early seasons Spencer, like glasses Spence before he's all tortured

Content: S.R x Reader, fluff, depictions of being nervous, and inner thoughts and such, two idiots in love, primarily Spencer's point of view, a sweet kiss on the forehead, if I missed anything let me know!

It’s unclear when all of this started for Spencer, he doesn’t know if it was a natural progression or if it was a shot to the chest but he knows he feels it. Looking back it could’ve been when he realized this pretty girl wasn’t insincere in her affection. Or maybe it was the first time he caught the scent of her perfume and realized he liked it. It also could’ve been when he realized she had memorized his coffee preferences and genuinely listened to his ramblings.

“Spencer?” That voice called out, making him look up from the file before him. Spencer couldn’t imagine ignoring her, not now and not ever. He cleared his throat and felt his face growing hot as he saw her soft look, an uneasy smile stretching over his lips. He opened his mouth to speak but the overwhelmingly pretty girl cut him off. She smiled ever so sweetly at the tall man. “You okay? You’ve been staring at that file for a while.”

Spencer felt his heart kick in a way that made him almost throw up. “I’m great.. good yeah good that’s what I am-” her laughter cut him off and Spencer wished the world would open up and swallow him whole. She’s too much, her voice and her smile and oh my god she’s leaning closer and suddenly Spencer has to hold his breath.

Her soft hand brushed over his face and Spencer had to bite back any noise he was going to make. “You’re all red,” she noted softly, “but you don’t have a fever which is good.” Spencer’s breath was shallow and raspy as he tried not to burst into laughter or dance or just kiss her right there.

“Fevers.. are actually not inherently dangerous.” He murmured softly as he realized her hand wasn’t going anywhere and suddenly he couldn’t shut up. “Fevers.. are the body’s first line of defense against an infection. It means your body is doing what it should to keep us from getting sick-”

“My mom used to kiss my forehead when I got sick.” Her soft voice cut through his monologue. Spencer could’ve sworn he stopped breathing, he could swear she was sent here to kill him and take him up to heaven. This is an insane thought to Spencer, he’s never believed in the idea of heaven or hell and yet this girl might just change that.

“She… okay..” He breathed out, unable to tear his eyes away from hers. It was overwhelming, her lips suddenly pressing to his forehead and her perfume wafting into his face. She was overwhelming and he had to sit there catatonically as she walked away. Even JJ couldn’t knock him out of his stupor as he blankly stared at the doorway she’d left from. Spencer knew so much and yet right now he could only say one thing..

Spencer Reid is so overwhelmingly in love.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #fluff #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine

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painted-bees · 2 days

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You know, if/when Margie ever goes to get assessed for ADHD or such, it'll be over some executive function-related failure on a project that she had hoped would prove to her that she can excel at things so long as she actually 'cares' about them. It'd be something music related for sure--maybe some kind of collaborative videogame music charity thing that some other online music nerds have organized together--I dunno what the indie online musician equivalent of a "zine" is lmfao

Like, it's not even a big prestige thing, and she's not getting any money from it--but it's an exciting project and she gets to compose covers of her favorite viddy game songs and have her music featured alongside other artists she enjoys. But--you know, there's a hard deadline. And there are certain expectations--she want's to make something good and memorable with this.

She gets started on it, and it's going well--well enough for her to be like, "great, I can come back to this later and I'll have it done no problem!" And then she forgets. And then she gets a reminder in her email that submissions are due by the end of the week. The email was sent on Monday, it's Thursday evening. She panics, and tries to put together the rest of the composition that same night, dismayed beyond words that she had put this thing off until literally the last minute. And it's not coming together, she had this great sound and idea in her head, and now it's failing to materialize for her. Her mounting frustration and panic has built up past being a helpful motivator, and is now actively sabotaging her efforts until she can't do anything but cry about it. It's 3 am, the work isn't done, it's isn't going to get done...she utterly failed. At this thing she's good at, that she wanted to do, that she was eager to be a part of.

Materially, she loses nothing by being like "well, I can ask for an extension, and if that's not possible then oh well." It wasn't a paid gig, it wasn't some huge, prestigious feature, there were no awards or accolades on the line, really. But it was supposed to be an easy thing she could do to remind herself that she's perfectly capable at completing things if she just--yanno--cares enoug, puts her mind to it and deems it worth her effort. It was supposed to be easy self-reassurance. And she failed.

and so she's crying in the wee hours of the morning over some small, unremarkable thing that she had chosen to do, for free, in her spare time because she hung all her confidence and self-worth on her ability to complete it in a manner that she could be proud of.

And Raf's the one holding her, trying to figure out how to impress on her that this whole fiasco is not...a suitable way of measuring her worth. Like--it's not proof that she's 'lazy'. This isn't what laziness looks like, this isn't what a "lack of care" or "lack of motivation" looks like. Ugly crying over a low-stakes, free-time, "for fun" project after forcing yourself to work fruitlessly through the night is...disordered. Like, Raf of all people, gets it. He completely understands lmao but it requires attention and help. It's not the first time he's suggested to Margie that she should book an assessment. He's offered to help her get the process started several times in the past. She's always been very "yeahhh...nah" about it. He figured it was because she was afraid of being told that there was something """wrong """ with her. Which--he empathized with a lot, and so never really pressed her about it.

But, over this specific event, it becomes clear that what Margie is most afraid of is hearing and knowing definitively that's there's nothing wrong with her. She worries that her inability to complete things on time, to remember things, to keep organized and clean and to prioritize things is just something everyone has to deal with, and they just care enough to deal with it properly--while she has somehow internalized that crying about it means she won't have to worry about it anymore. Maybe cuz she was spoiled growing up, like her parents use to suggest; that she was never truly forced to face the consequences of her inaction. And, for what ever reason, that'd mean she's just...a bad person.

And once Raf realizes that this is what has been keeping her away from getting assessed, he commits to fully pleading with her to get assessed, promising that no possible outcome will change his opinion of her at his very core. And it works. He's able to get a referral for her from his therapist, gets her booked, and over the course of three appointments, she goes through the assessment--feeling an undeterred mix of anxiety and shame all the while 'cus what if they just think "this girl walks in with a latte and a 'problem' but her real problem is that she has never experienced a real struggle in her life lol" or "she's exaggerating things just so she can get drugs, no way is anyone actually this stupid" or "this is a huge waste of time". That's not how it turns out, of course. Between the self assessment, the assessment she had to give to 3 trusted friends/family members to fill out, the IQ test, the cognitive ability tests, and whatever else happened during the dialogue between her and the psychologist--Margie gets her ADHD diagnosis and an autism diagnosis. She gets Raf to sit in with her while the psychologist goes over the results with her, 'cus she doesn't trust her ability to recite any of that information to him herself afterward lmao To her surprise (and to Raf's quiet, triumphant validation for calling it correctly), Margie's IQ is, apparently, a very sexy 136...but is undercut by remarkably low results on tests pertaining to certain cognitive abilities--to the point of qualifying as significant impairments.

On the list of treatments, medication is suggested as a footnote following a list of things including therapy, habit-building and behavioral exercises, dietary suggestions, and further reading suggestions. Which comes to her as a relief, because it's gonna take her a few more years before she's comfortable with the idea of medicating (imagining in her mind that one unfortunate unofficial Calvin and Hobbes comic that has made her fear losing her enthusiasm for her creative musical endeavors lmao). Until then though, the therapy is, perhaps, the most helpful treatment suggestion on that list. Aside from contributing to supportive mental/emotional/behavioral exercises--after the initial relief of "omg there WAS something wrong, I'm not just a bad, lazy, uncaring person!!"--the backlog of hurt that follows the "I needed help but they punished me instead" revelation provides a lot to work through.

#hi-note #magritte

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whumpetywhumpwhump · 2 days

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hello I came here rushing because I love your writing

please hear me out...

whumpee is damn sick, but has been hiding it from caretaker in order for not to bother them.

until they can't get out of bed, are hurting all over, crying in impotence because they just don't feel well.

they swear they're not going to bother caretaker for this, they should be able to deal with it themselves.

until they can't take it anymore and scream for caretaker in the middle of the night...

it's okay if you don't want to write this tho, if it's not to your liking

anyway, love you <3

Whumpee is absolutely fine.

That's a lie. They're not at all, but it's easier to act as though they are- if Caretaker knows just how bad they're feeling, their kind nature will no doubt lead them to devote all their energy to making Whumpee feel better. They'll keep themselves off work. They'll make Whumpee soup, wipe their dampening brow with a washcloth, stroke their hair and-

God, it's all Whumpee wants, but it can't happen. Caretaker needs to focus on themselves for once.

So Whumpee suffers in silence.

They hold back sneezes while they're in Caretaker's presence, frequently pinch their bloodless cheeks to make themselves appear less pale, and answer all questions about their welfare with a less-than-convincing 'I'm fine!'.

It's only at night, when Caretaker is settling into bed away from Whumpee, that everything finally comes apart. Whumpee sneezes. Whumpee coughs. Whumpee shivers. They curl up within their duvet and wait for sleep to claim them, knowing that when it does, the rest they manage to get will be brief and fitful.

On one such night, Whumpee wakes at 2 in the morning, drenched in a cold sweat, sick to their stomach. Their head feels heavy and aches agonisingly, the pain from their sinuses having spread there thanks to their reluctance to sneeze in front of Caretaker. In fact, every muscle aches, from their head to their toes, skin tingling with the clear evidence of a fever they've been denying too long.

Whumpee tries to sit up, knowing that at last it might be time to admit their own weakness, but every limb has been filled with lead, and they flop back, whining gently. It feels like they're dying. Maybe they're dying?

"C-caretaker." They manage, lips chapped, voice hoarse from disuse. It's no more than a whisper. "C-caretaker?"

A broken sob falls from their lungs at the uselessness of their own vocal cords. They're trapped. They're going to have to lay here, awake and in pain, for the rest of the night. Caretaker leaves early in the morning for their shift too, which means... they'll be left alone all day.

Oh God.

"CARETAKER?!"

At last, their desperation manifests with something stronger. They drain all their energy in the process, of course, but it's worth it- especially when they hear the bed creaking in the other room, and footsteps on the floor boards in the hallway. The relief is palpable.

Then, the hall light clicks on. It floods through underneath Whumpee's door, and soon through a crack as the door is opened.

"Whumpee? Hey, is everything okay?"

And Caretaker's voice is so gentle, so needed, that all Whumpee can do is sob.

Thanks for the ask!!! Please anyone feel free to drop any more little whumpy scenarios you'd like drabbles for!

#whump #whump prompts #sicknario #sickfic #prompts #sickfic whump #fever whump #whump prompt #sickfic prompts

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canonizzyhours · 3 days

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i read more canyon fic than i should.

it used to be because i was interested in the actual canon edizzy dynamic some other posts here have talked about and i wanted to find good darkfic about izzy topping from the bottom. then i realized i was never going to find that and it became something i did in good faith hope that i would understand the canyon better, maybe i'd find some really good fic about their take on fanon izzy and i would finally get why they found this compelling. at this point it's something i do out of morbid fascination, i'm still trying to understand the canyon but what i keep understanding is that their perspectives are always worse than i expected.

anyway here's what i was thinking about today. at this point i can sort canyon fic into categories and there's this one subgenre that's always fascinated me - and it goes well back into the early post-s1 hiatus era - where izzy becomes a weirdly passive character who never really does anything.

you can see exactly why this is happening. the author is so immersed in canyon meta that they refuse to engage with any of izzy's canonical motivations from s1 - the craving for power, the homophobia, the fetishizing obsession with masculinity, the contempt for the crew who work under him, the cruelty, the sense of entitlement to control ed's life: they've been convinced that none of that stuff is a part of izzy's character. but when you take it all away, you end up with a guy who would never actually do any of the stuff izzy canonically does in s1. and if you gave him any other motivations that pushed him to do other stuff instead it would become really obvious this is just a completely different guy (there's several OTHER genres of canyon fic where they do exactly that and it is super obvious this guy just has nothing to do with izzy anymore). so you end up with a character who does absolutely nothing except stand around in the background of scenes gazing at edward thinking sad thoughts about their dying relationship and every once in a while the author remembers to have him say "fuckin' twats."

so i was thinking about this today and what hit me like a lightning bolt is this exactly predicted what would happen in s2. the writers wanted to redeem him in one season and since all his motivations in s1 existed to push him to be awful, they had to resolve all of them as quickly as possible. so within the first half of the season izzy had let go of his creepy psychosexual obsession with ed and belief that he should control ed's life and his homophobia and contempt for effeminacy and learned to respect others instead of needing to dominate or be dominated.

but just like in those fics, this turned izzy into a character who no longer had any real personality traits besides saying twat sometimes, or any reason to actually do much of anything at all. and since the traits they got rid of so completely defined who he'd been up to that point, giving izzy any NEW motivations or personality traits would just make it really obvious this was functionally an entirely different guy.

this is the exact reason he was so boring in 2x05-2x07. with those traits gone there is no longer any reason for him to do anything in particular. the only thing they can do with him at this point is demonstrate that his redemption arc is complete by repeatedly having him do the opposite of evil stuff he did last season, and once they've checked off every box on that list, they have to kill him off because there is now nothing else he can possibly contribute to the narrative.

it's so funny to me that if i had taken seriously the lessons i learned from reading canyon fic i would have been able to predict at the very beginning of the season, as soon as it became clear they were speedrunning the redemption, that he would be dead at the end of it. those fics showed me exactly why there couldn't possibly be any compelling reason to keep a fully redeemed izzy in the narrative.

#394.

#ofmd #izzy hands #fandom critical #canonizzyhours

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searchingforplanes · 3 days

Text

Lay, lady, lay

WC: 1.6k

Notes: Ancient fluffy-ish blurb from my google docs. Just a simple Sunday morning crumb. Reposted cause tags (still) won't work

TW: typos, curse words?, mention of pills?, me being repetitive and using song lyrics as endings and titles because I don't own one single ounce of creativity nor talent

‘Matty, can you grab my meds for me, please?’

You scrunch your nose at the sound of your groggy morning voice, cursing the pollen that’s been filling the newly warm spring air and, consequently, blocking your sinuses and keeping you awake all night.

Fucking allergies.

Your boyfriend just hums in response on the other side of the bed, eyes glued to his phone while he numbly scrolls away, barely registering that you’re talking to him. You turn your head to take a better look at him: sleepy eyes, messy ringlets, pouty lips, long sideburns and, dulcis in fundo, his slightly hairy chest peeking out from the duvet.

If your relationship was happening in a fairytale, despite gender stereotypes, right now you would be the evil ogre and him the princess in distress kept captive in your tower, guarded by dragons and whatnot. You don’t even need a mirror to confirm your theory, sleeping beauty by your side looking like a proper snack at eight in the morning while you feel like a truck just ran you over. Prince charming, in this case, must be the sun: the same soft rays that are burning your retinas seem to only caress him in a shower of light, gently tracing the slope of his nose and making his glossy curls glimmer.

You grunt, turning to lay on your tummy and firmly planting your face on your pillow, praying for it to swallow you and keep you there, in the valley of soft feathers and comforters or wherever pillows come from.

The fact that you're thinking about fantasy worlds for the second time in a row since you’ve woken up it’s a clear indicator of how bad of a few hours of sleep you got and how you have a whole lot of creative dreaming to catch up on. You need meds.

Matty’s weak attention span has already faded when you try to gently nudge his leg with your feet, startling him. He turns to finally look at you, putting his phone on the nightstand.

‘Are you trying to suffocate yourself?’ The smirk he’s so obviously sporting makes you want to slap him right across the face. You raise your head just slightly to try and set him on fire with your glance, but the result is poor: Matty full on laugh at the sight of your tired eyes, failing at your attempt to appear threatening. You let your head fall back on the pillow in defeat, mumbling about how bad of a boyfriend he is.

‘Aw baby, don’t be mad at me, it’s not my fault you’re just adorable with that red nose of yours. Did you escape from Santa Claus’ barn? ’

That was the ultimate dick move. Realising you’re not in the mood for jokes he tries to apologise, scooting towards your side of the bed to envelope you, but you keep your distance, sliding blindly to the edge of the mattress, as far away from him as possible.

Until you feel nothing underneath you.

You land on the floor with a thud almost as loud as to grant you a knock on the door from your angry neighbours, but the sound of your failure is soon replaced by the grunts of your boyfriend who’s apparently trying really hard to stop himself from laughing at you.

Dickhead.

While you wait for him to come and rescue you, because of course he has to laugh in your face just for a moment longer, you start plotting your revenge. Maybe you should just grab one of his ankles and sweep him off his feet, but then again, who’s gonna pick you up with his dead weight upon you? The plan is unviable.

He crouches beside your limp body before you can even attempt to find a plan B, looking down at you with a faint smile until he decides that the time for pity has finally come. He circles your torso with his arms, raising you from the ground until you’re flush against him and your hands are gripping his neck. He then pats the sides of your thighs, inviting you to place them on his hips and you oblige, defeated, the pain in your back overpowering the need to ignore him. For now, at least.

Comfortable in his arms, you decide to nuzzle against his neck, ignoring the destination of this little walk until the cold marble of the kitchen counter bites the naked skin of your legs. He has strategically placed you between the kettle and the fridge, you notice, the perfect spot to smooch you in between the steps of preparing breakfast. He does this often, especially when in trouble and desperate for your forgiveness. The bastard knows how to make you soft.

You accept the first sweet kiss to your nose with a grunt, involuntarily starting to warm up to him. He then starts the little routine of his, walking between the two appliances an unnecessary amount of times, purposefully avoiding multitasking to kiss you over and over.

He fills up the kettle, smooch. He takes the butter out of the fridge, smooch. He reaches for two mugs in the cupboard above the steaming appliance, smooch. He goes back to retrieve the milk, smooch.

And then his absolute favourite: toast. He grins like a kid walking back to you with the slices of bread in his hands and you roll his eyes, but you let him have his moment.

‘May I?’

You barely nod, his arms reaching behind your back to place the slices inside the toaster, which is conveniently located behind your back. His torso leans over you in the action, one hand, now empty, coming to your waist while the other turns the lever to the highest setting, just to make sure he has time to get his way with you before having to return to chef duty.

He smirks before crushing his lips on yours, forceful and bold, his other hand coming around and gripping the thin material of your shirt over your ribcage. He tries to deepen the kiss, his tongue coming out to graze at your lower lip but you physically have to push him off you. Before Matty can even ask what’s wrong you break into a fit of coughs, and it’s like a lightbulb switches on over his head. He places his hands on the counter on either side of your legs and looks at you sweetly.

‘You out of breath already? Did the allergies get to you?’

You mumble in affirmation, your throat too sore to try and speak and curse him out for his lack of attention before. The toaster goes off, triggering Matty to finish his little routine, buttering the toast and tossing the teabags before placing the meal on the kitchen island.

‘Go eat, I’ll take your pills’

You oblige, watching your boyfriend’s boxer-cladded rear make his way to the master bedroom. You munch on breakfast while listening to the screeching sound of the bathroom drawers being opened and almost certainly getting messed up with Matty’s frantic research.

He returns a couple minutes later with a triumphant look on his face, swinging the blister pack in the air like a trophy.

‘Open up’

You stick your tongue out and he places the medicine on your tongue, letting it dissolve until the bitter taste fills up your mouth. You take the glass of water Matty slides over to you, raising the corners of your lips in an appreciative smile. He smiles right back and as best as he can, considering he’s stuffed his mouth like a squirrel to catch up with you on his toast.

‘Can we go back to bed after this? I don’t think I can manage my eyelids being open for much more’

He grins at this, swallowing hard and reaching for his tea to down it as fast as possible, the prospect of spending the cosy sunday morning under the duvet with you much more appealing than any other plan. So much so that he almost burns his tongue with the hot liquid, eager to answer you.

‘I’m all yours, darling’

And he is. A perfect Adonis draped on the pillows, still half naked, with burning hot skin that smells like sandalwood, all yours, trapped under the weight of your head on his bare chest. Your ear is pressed against his ribcage, listening to the rhythm of his heart, a deep, constant beat that sounds like it was pulled out from one of his songs.

‘I’m sorry for earlier, I was kind of a douche’ Matty whispers mere centimetres from your ear.

‘You were, but you can make up for it’

He wiggles a bit under the covers, impatient to hear your request.

‘Stay still and sing me to sleep, will you?’ You stifle a yawn right after and you flutter your eyelids close. Finally, your breathing evens out.

‘Sure thing, princess. Any requests?’’

‘Blue sunday’ You answer. It’s an unintelligible mumble, but he knows you too well to not expect it.

So he begins to card his fingers in your hair, alternating scratching at your scalp with tracings of your neck. His voice breaks the silence in the sweetest melody:

I found my own true love was

On a blue Sunday

She looked at me and told me

I was the only

One in the world

Now I have found my girl

My girl awaits for me in tender time

My girl is mine

She is the world

She is my girl

His arms tighten around you as the lyrics reach the end. Content floods your body, you can finally sleep peacefully.

#matty healy #matty healy blurb #matty healy oneshot #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x reader

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trashytoastboi · 2 days

Text

Day of Dominance - Diavolo

~Spicy Sin-Ario GN! Version~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

> Gender Neutral Version

> Word count: 1,015 words

> Warning: NSFW (Overstimulation, Size kink, Manhandling, Fingering, Dacryphilia, Cock warming)

“Dia! Ah- no more…” {Name} moans and attempts to push his hand away, their strategy changes to trying to seize his wrist to stop him from moving. Diavolo doesn’t budge, his fingers keep a steady rhythm when they work in and out of them, occasionally making a scissoring motion inside to stretch them a little more. {Name’s} voice grew more ragged, turning from moans to whimpers and whines from the overstimulation when they cum again for the umpteenth time. “I love how sensitive you are my dear” Diavolo marvels at the sight with amazement. His hands finally give them a momentary rest while exploring {Name’s} body. He enjoyed every jolt and twitch when he would graze a certain spot that drew another entertaining reaction from his partner. He grazes his fingers along their navel watching his touch cause goosebumps to rise on their skin.

Diavolo sits up, placing a soft kiss against their forehead as he sinks his cock into them. His hands hold them steady and in place as he inches inside with a nice and slow thrust, feeling {Name’s} body accommodating every inch with a tight stretch that makes them pant, their nails dig into his chest, digging deeper the further he reaches inside them. Diavolo took a moment to enjoy the view of his length bulging in their tummy, “Amazing” he croons, drawing his hips out and pushing inside again with more force. Mesmerized by it, Diavolo rests his hand on their stomach and presses down on the bulge. He nearly curses at how suddenly their walls clenched down around him. Diavolo is truly having too much fun with the feel of his cock moving in and out and how their cute stomach swells every time he’s in deep. If Diavolo hadn’t ripped as many orgasms from them then maybe they wouldn’t be shaking with the oversensitivity and heightened awareness of the feel and shape of his cock dragging along their insides, pushing in with a little force and rubbing along every one of their favourite spots. {Name} doesn't know if they can handle another one, and tries to move away just for some respite from his thrusts, at least moving in a way that he’s not pressing against their most loved spot with every thrust in.

Diavolo slows his hips, watching how stealthily they attempt to move away and he allows them. The moment he watches {Name} draw in a small sigh of relief, his fingers bite into the flesh of their thighs and pull them all the way back with a rather hard and forceful thrust that sends them over the edge. {Name} babbles, whines and tells Diavolo that it feels too good through slurred words that he’s learned to decipher through the sheer amount of times he’s put them into this state. Diavolo leans down to kiss them softly, “Don’t move away from me” he warns, his voice low and a slight pout rests on his lips.

Moving them from one position, to the next and to another, finally he has {Name} on their hands and knees, unsteadily so Diavolo happily lends a helping hand to keep their hips up, holding them nice and steady while he’s pounding into them. Unable to think, or even extend an ounce of concern to volume as their voice gets louder and doesn’t even register restraining their voice. Neither of them paid attention to the knock on the door, Barbatos stands on the other side, a slight blush on his face as he listens to {Name} and Diavolo. He clears his throat “Young master, you have an important call-” Diavolo pulls {Name} closer to lift their face into a deep kiss, swallowing every moan as he entwines their tongues. At Barbatos’s words Diavolo takes an unfamiliar expression of annoyance, work, politics, everything like that was the last thing he wanted to think about while he is with {Name}. “The call can wait. Nothing should interrupt me right now. Is that clear?” Diavolo spoke firmly without room for refusal. Honestly the tone sent a shiver down both {Name’s} and Barabatos’ spines.

The butler was taken aback but did not refute and quietly left. Diavolo had always prioritized his duties above all else. In the past even if Diavolo had “personal company” over, he’d leave them to go attend to whatever called him away. {Name} had proven to be the sole exception, Diavolo refused to allow his attention to be deviated from them. Not since the first time, and nothing will ever disturb him when he’s fixated on ravaging them. It obviously started with his desire to build closer relationships with those in all the realms and he respected those who resided within them. Diavolo himself had confessed to {Name} that maybe it was due to his demonic nature that he sought such a thrill from the idea of corrupting a sweet little human, {Name} being that human. The innocent, naive human who so willingly crawled into his clutches and allowed him to devour them so wholeheartedly. Diavolo didn’t have to seduce {Name}.

Once they mildly came back to their senses, they muffled their own voice, opting to try to silence the moans by burying their face in the soft pillows on Diavolo’s bed. {Name} tried again, a futile effort really, to move away from him. Diavolo watched their attempt, yet again to squirm away from him. He leaned down to cage their body between his and the bed as he bottomed out, there was no escape. A low growl rumbles in his chest as he grins to see them whining so pathetically with a fucked out expression. Their whole body trembles with intense ecstasy. “Don’t try to run my little lamb.” Diavolo croons, pressing kisses along their shoulder and neck. When {Name} babbled on about it being too much Diavolo was kind enough to compromise and keep them within his hold while he’s still buried deep inside. He kisses them softly, waiting until they catch their breath so he can continue having his fun.” Just keep being good for me…” he purred into their ear.

Taglist: @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @roninfromtheops

#trashytoastboi #diavolo #seven days of sin event #obey me #dia #gender neutral reader #gn reader #obey me diavolo #obey me dia #om! diavolo #diavolo x reader #unholy toast #obey me nightbringer #om! nightbringer #om nb

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