#(MUCH LESS actually come to terms with the feeling and what it m e a n s)

[spiinsparks]

         ||. it’s 3am and all i can freakin think about is that any person who wants to romance this idiot is gonna have to deal with whatever the equivalent of an emotional one-night-stand is (we’re not here for the actual thing in this house) bc he’s a dumb teenager who’s too independent to consider yknow maybe a proper commitment to someone doesn’t actually mean ... getting shackled down

[wheresarizona]

Bluebonnet

summary: Is Joel Miller your friend? No. You’re not even sure if he actually likes you or just puts up with you because of his kid. Then he kicks some guy's ass in a bar for getting handsy with you, and you’re starting to think maybe he might like you a little…

rating: E (18+!! No y/n, Grumpy Joel Miller, Protective Joel Miller, Soft Joel Miller, age gap (unspecified but reader was born before the outbreak), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, oral sex (f + m receiving), 69 position, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, spit mention, slight breeding kink, Joel has a big dick, Joel being kinda a dick, a random guy harassing you then getting beat up by Joel, canon typical violence, icing Joel’s knuckles, feelings confessions, Ellie being Ellie and the star of the show, AU where Joel doesn’t lie to Ellie and their relationship is still good)

pairing: Joel Miller/f!reader

word count: 5.5k+

a/n: Literally, a scene in this woke me up from dead sleep at five in the goddamn morning, and I spent thirty minutes plotting the whole one shot while barely awake. This fic was very spur of the moment that I wrote in less than two days, so it’s unbeta’d. All mistakes are my own. Please be horny about Joel protecting you with me.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

Is Joel Miller your friend? 

No. 

Are you on friendly terms?

You thought so. 

Joel isn’t the most social of fellas—he’s basically a feral cat that wants to be left alone.

If you aren’t friends with him, then how did you become the regular occupant of the seat across from his in the Jackson mess hall every breakfast and dinner? 

The answer is simple: Ellie. 

It all started months ago when you first got to Jackson and met the teen after being assigned to a job rotation with her. She was so excited about finding out you lived in Texas for many years before the world went to hell she invited you to eat dinner with her so you could meet someone, and that’s how you were introduced to Austin-native Joel Miller. 

He’s a bit older than you, never smiles, and isn’t much of a talker but still polite enough to answer a question if you ask it, even if it’s more of a grumble at the start of the day. With Ellie, though, it was different. He talked to her, and his voice was like coming home after a long day and settling in on the couch—that familiar Texan accent making you feel all warm and comfy, his words wrapping around you like a tight blanket and taking you back to a time when things were good and safe. 

The morning after the first dinner, Ellie had called you over to sit with them for breakfast, and again that evening, little bits of conversation happening between bites as you got a grasp on what the relationship was between this young girl and man—it was clearly father-daughter in nature even if she didn’t call him ‘dad,’ and you savored every word she wheedled out of him. 

It got to the point where the teenager didn’t have to beckon you over, and you just knew to set your food down in the seat in front of Joel to eat with them, always smiling at Ellie giving him so much shit, chatting with them or more the young girl, with Joel occasionally offering clipped anecdotes, and you trying not to acknowledge his handsomeness—you weren’t sure if he even liked you or if he was just putting up with you for the sake of his kid.  

He does have a lovely voice and is very attractive with those expressive chocolate-colored eyes that sometimes soften when he looks at his daughter; you could imagine his grey hair would be soft to the touch, and it’s obvious those full lips of his are kissable. Honestly, it’s surprising he’s not seeing anyone that you know of or Ellie is aware of, with how damn pretty he is.

His broad shoulders and how his flannels stretch over his chest. 

His neck. 

God, he’s sure nice to look at. 

And Ellie is a great kid who trusted you, coming to you anytime she needed advice or wanted to talk about something, and you were happy to be there for her. 

The breakfast and dinner routine had been going on for so long that even though Joel didn’t talk at length to you, you’d managed to learn quite a bit about him from questions he’d answer or conversations he had with his kid or brother in front of you. He definitely knew a lot about you, too. 

Now, back to why you’re not sure if he likes you. 

That morning when you went to breakfast, you were running on autopilot—piled your plate with food, grabbed your cup of shitty coffee that made you want to cry with how much you missed Starbucks, and set it all down in your usual spot, where you started to eat. 

When your brain finally began working, that’s when you realized it was abnormally quiet at your table, and you looked up to realize Ellie wasn’t there—it was just Joel. He must have seen some kind of look on your face since he grumbled out she was with a friend. Then when you asked if he wanted you to sit somewhere else, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and he told you no before going back to eating in silence.

That put a point in the maybe he wasn’t just putting up with you for the sake of his daughter column and made you smile a little the rest of the meal.  

She wasn’t at dinner either.

This had you standing near your seat, chewing on your lip, debating on sitting elsewhere until Joel sighed loudly, setting down his fork to tell you in a tone that brokered no room for argument to sit, so you did. 

After a few bites, you almost choked to death when he asked how your day was. 

There was actual back and forth between just the two of you, and you were in heaven at how much he was speaking, another point going toward he might like you. 

Those interactions had you feeling really hopeful, and you were excited for breakfast the next day, wondering if he’d try to talk to you more. 

It’s been over half a year since you arrived in town, and you have managed to make some friends, who you knew for sure were your friends, and also closer to your age. When a couple of them asked if you wanted to get a drink that night and play some pool, you happily agreed. 

The place is practically empty when you arrive. 

Standing at the bar, chatting with your friend Mathias as you wait for the bartender to make your drinks, you can feel someone staring at you. Doing a quick glance of the room has your stomach dropping and is the reason you’re pretty fucking sure Joel doesn’t care for you; he’s sitting across the room at a table in the corner, glaring at you—not just glaring, if looks could kill you’d be deader than dead he looks so pissed off, and you’re about to go find out what his problem is when two things happen:

Mathias excuses himself to the restroom, and some man you’ve never seen, let alone spoken to, gets your attention on your other side. 

“Hey.” The interloper squeezes your arm, which makes your head turn toward him, shaking him off.

“Don’t touch me,” you reply. 

There’s nothing special about the guy—he’s probably younger than you, has floppy blonde hair, and a clean-shaven face, but something in his eyes made you feel uneasy. 

“My apologies,” he says, putting up his hands placatingly. “This is my first night here, and I’m just trying to make a new friend. Have a drink with me.” 

“Welcome to Jackson, and no, thank you, I’m here with friends.” 

“I’m sure they won’t mind if you have one drink with me.” His voice goes lower, “We could have some real fun together.” He has the audacity to grab your ass, and you step out of his reach. 

“I said don’t fucking touch me.” 

The bartender has gone into the back, Mathias is nowhere in sight, and your other friend is in another room where the pool table is with the jukebox playing. 

Something flashes in his eyes, and it has your heart pounding. 

“Don’t be like that. Just one drink,” he says, coming closer. 

You are readying to fight the bastard when all of a sudden, someone is grabbing his collar, and you see a fist connect with his face in a sickening crunch that makes you gasp. 

Joel yanks the guy in front of him. 

“She said not to fuckin’ touch her,” he grits through his teeth. “And that she didn’t wanna have a drink with you.” 

“I’m sorry,” the other man wheezes, blood oozing from his clearly broken nose. “I’ll leave.” 

“Yes, you fuckin’ will—after I teach you some fuckin’ manners.” 

With that, he punches him again and again and again.

You’re no damsel in distress—you’ve survived the fucking apocalypse for the last twenty years practically alone and could easily fight your way out of dangerous situations. But having someone stand up for you and protect you? It’s really doing it for you, except you’re genuinely worried Joel will murder this man, so you move toward him. 

“Stop, Joel!” you shout, pushing on his shoulder, and he does immediately, his eyes meeting yours. “He’ll leave; toss him out. Please, Joel. Don’t kill him.” 

His chest rises and falls as he pants, nodding his head once before hauling the groaning man to the door and throwing him out. The bartender chose that moment to come back, as well as your friend. 

There was a worried expression on Mathias’ face. “Is everything okay?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you answer. The drinks are sitting on the bartop, and you gesture toward them. “I’ve got something to do, so take those for me, okay?” 

Confusion is etched on his brow. “Okay…?” He strategically picks up the three glasses and heads for the other room with the pool table. 

Your attention moves to the man behind the bar. “Hey, can I get some ice in a rag?” 

“Sure thing,” he replies, going to the block and using the ice pick. 

Joel didn’t return to you. Instead, he went back to his table like the last however many minutes didn’t happen, and it makes you sigh. 

His mixed signals have you so confused you’re ready to just get it all out in the open. 

The bartender hands you some ice wrapped in a towel, and you walk over to Joel, having to drag the seat across from his around so you’re next to him, seeing his right hand shaking around his glass with bloodied knuckles. 

He won’t even look at you. 

“Give me your hand,” you order him. 

“I’m fine.” 

“No, you’re not. Give me your fucking hand.” 

“No.” 

“Stop being a stubborn asshole, and let me ice your fucking knuckles.”

“I said I’m fine.” 

He won’t give you his hand, so you do the next best thing and press the ice against them while they hold his drink, Joel hissing at the coldness. 

His head turns to glare at you. 

“Don’t give me that look.” You glare right back. “I’m helping you.” 

“I don’t need your help,” he practically spits out. 

Taking a deep breath, you ready yourself for what you’re going to say. 

“We had a nice dinner,” you tell him. 

His eyebrows furrow. 

“What?” 

“We had a nice dinner with just the two of us where we talked—you didn’t smile, but it was the most you’ve ever said to me, and this morning, you let me eat with you. You’re not a people person, and I wasn’t sure if you liked me all that much, but our meals today made me think you might. Then tonight you were glaring at me—”

“When was I glarin’ at you?” he interrupts. 

“Before that creep started getting handsy.” 

“Oh, I wasn’t lookin’ at you…” His eyes dart away. 

You’re confused. 

“There’s like no one here. Who were you looking at?” 

He sighs loudly. “Your boyfriend,” he mumbles. 

“Huh?” 

“Your boyfriend—the guy you’re here with.” 

“Oh, Mathias? I’m not his type, and he’s already in a relationship. I don’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend, or a partner—I’m not seeing anyone. You should know this.” 

“Oh.” 

“Okay, so you weren’t glaring at me, you were glaring at my non-existent boyfriend, and then you came in hot like some knight in shining armor and beat the shit out of that asshole for doing me wrong. Sooo, you maybe like me?” 

He looked at you with a squinted gaze, like the answer was obvious. 

“I more than maybe like you,” he replies. 

That has your eyes widening. 

“Wait, in the romantic or platonic sense?” 

“There’s no point in talkin’ about this,” he sighs, looking down at the amber liquid in his cup. 

“Um, yes, there is because if I have a shot at breaking off a piece of this Kit Kat bar, I’d like to take it.” 

His gaze met yours, and you could see the hope swirling in the dark pools. 

“In the, uh, romantic or platonic sense?” 

Smiling, you answer, “Romantic—I’ve basically been crushing on you since I met you. We’ve known each other for months, almost a year. You’re such a good father to Ellie, a hard worker around town, and you let some random person sit with you during your meals—”

It takes your breath away when he smiles softly and talks when you pause, “You’re not some random person, and I would’ve been stupid to turn away such a beautiful woman.” 

“Oh, god, you’re hot and charming.” He chuckles, and your heart picks up in pace. “How are you making me like you more?” 

“I don’t know, Blue.” 

“Blue?” 

“As in Bluebonnet.” 

Which was Texas’ state flower and makes you feel so soft at how sweet the nickname is. 

“I love it.” 

The smile falls from his face. 

“You, uh, don’t mind my age?” He scratches at his mustache. 

Ellie had made you very aware of how old Joel was. 

“No? I think you’re extremely attractive. Does the age difference bother you?” 

“No.” He shakes his head. 

“What now?” you ask. 

“Jesus, it’s been so fuckin’ long,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I guess I’ll court you—take you on a proper date.” 

“Second option, that’s more immediate, and we can go with your plan tomorrow.” 

He looks at you. 

“Yeah?” 

“Is Ellie home tonight?” 

His eyebrows dip together. 

“Yeah?” 

Smirking, you say, “Okay, so why don’t we go back to my place, and I properly thank you for what you did tonight.” 

You see his throat bob as he swallows, his voice going deeper when he asks, “How do you wanna thank me?” 

A smile pulls up on your lips, moving forward to whisper in his good ear, “I was thinking I’d suck your dick.” His breath stutters. “Then have you fuck me however you want.” That makes him groan, and you grin. 

His hand moves out from under the ice and up to cradle your face, along with the other, when his body turns, making you look him in the eyes.

“I was stupid for leavin’ you alone ‘cause I assumed you wouldn’t want anythin’ to do with someone as old as me.” 

You snort. “Uh, yeah. You went a little hard with the leaving me alone, but I’ll forgive you if you kiss me right now.” 

No other words are said. His mouth crushes against yours, swallowing your surprised sound as he kisses you hard. Your fingers end up tangling in his grey waves of hair, your heart hammering in your chest and pulsing at the apex of your thighs. It’s obvious he hasn’t kissed in a while, and you’re in the same boat, both of you figuring things out until there’s a rhythm, and things are heating up with a slip of your tongue into his mouth to slide along his. The need inside you builds and builds until your lungs start to ache for oxygen, and you break apart, his nose nuzzling yours as you both pant with a smile on your lips. 

“Let’s go,” he says, and you don’t have to be told twice.  

He washed his hands before you left the bar, so it wasn’t obvious he’d just been in a fight. 

Having Joel lead you through town is like having a big, scary dog on a leash with how people get out of his way. It’s a little surprising he even knows where you live when you find yourself walking through your front gate. 

“How—”

“Ellie,” he answers before you even ask the question, his feet stomping up the two porch steps and you following. “She’s free to hang out with whoever and go wherever. I just ask she tells me where she’ll be.” 

“That’s very ‘cool dad’ of you.” 

You’re standing at the front door, him out of your way. 

“She’s not allowed to leave Jackson without me. If I tell her to stay away from someone, she stays away from them. I expect her to be a model citizen and do the jobs she’s required to do. Unless we talked beforehand, she must be home in time for breakfast and dinner.” 

“So, today, you knew it’d just be the two of us?” 

“She asked last night to stay at Cat’s house.” That’s Ellie’s best friend. “They’re staying over at our place tonight.” 

“Probably won’t even notice you’re missing then,” you say with a smile. The door’s unlocked, and you push it open before turning to grab Joel by the collar, pulling him in for a kiss as he walks you backward into the house with his arms wrapping around your back. 

It’s a tangle of tongues, a clash of teeth, one of Joel’s hands moving to massage your breast while your fingers worked open the buttons on his shirt, him shrugging it off by the time you make it to your bedroom door you led him to. Once inside, he strips you first, spending quite a bit of time licking and sucking on your tits when they’re bared and stopping you when you try to work open his pants, learning he’s really fucking strong when he easily tosses you onto the middle of the bed. 

Quickly, you’re sitting up on your knees, and you get a good look at the sizable bulge at the front of his jeans; Joel standing there with his hands on his hips, staring at your body with a hungry gaze, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. Scars are littering the golden expanse of skin on his front and arms of varying sizes, a newer one you spot on his lower torso, all of them telling you he’s fought like hell to make it to this point. 

Shuffling forward, you’re tired of waiting, your hands going to the button on the front of his pants. Joel’s palm engulfs yours to stop you, his head tilting down to meet your confused eyes. 

“You don’t need to suck my dick for what I did,” he says. 

“Okay. What if I just want to suck your dick for the hell of it?”

His lips tip up in a crooked smile, and you’re enjoying seeing his different smiles. 

“Then have at it, but I wanna lick your pussy until you come on my tongue.” 

You suck in a breath, your cunt clenching hard around nothing. 

“If you can get me off with your mouth, you’re not gonna be able to get rid of me.” 

His eyebrow arches. “Is that so?” 

“Yeah. You’ll be stuck with me.” 

There’d been enough talking, so you deftly popped open the button and pulled down the zipper, grabbing the waistband to tug his jeans down his thighs. You’re pleasantly surprised he goes commando, and then you get a good look at his hard cock, and it’s glorious. 

He’s thick, long, with a nice curve upwards, and you’re wondering if you’ll be able to fit him in your mouth—you’re definitely up for the challenge, licking your lips at the thought. Your fingers don’t even wrap all the way around him when you take him in hand, giving him a few quick strokes. 

“Wait,” he says, stopping your movements. 

“What?” you ask, looking up at him. 

“Hold on,” is all he replies, getting his pants the rest of the way down, kicking them off, and removing his socks. Walking around the side of your queen size bed, you’re turning in place to follow his movements as he gets on the mattress with a groan and the springs squeaking as he moves to the middle, his legs on either side of you, grabbing one of your pillows to put under his head that he lifts to look at you. “Sit on my face.” It’s an order, and he pats his chest to show you he means it. 

“I thought I was giving you a blow job…?” You point at his dick resting against his stomach. 

“You are,” he replies. “We’re doin’ both. Now, get up here,” he orders again, his face grumpy, patting his chest once more. 

“Sheesh,” you say, moving over his leg and up the bed, thankful you showered before you went out. “You’re really bossy when you’re horny.” 

When you’re within reach, he replies, “I’ll show you fuckin’ bossy,” and he puts his strength to work again, grunting while hauling you onto him with your back to his head and legs along his sides. His hand lands on the side of your ass in a sharp slap that makes you gasp, feeling the wetness between your legs, coating your inner thighs. “I’m eatin’ this pretty fuckin’ pussy,” he says, positioning you over his face, his hand giving your asscheek another hard spank causing you to clench. “And you’re gonna wrap that gorgeous fuckin’ mouth around my cock.”

You can’t respond because all train of thought leaves your brain when his mouth latches onto your cunt, feeling him groan into your sensitive skin, the sensations making your toes curl, and fire erupt in your center. 

“Oh my god, Joel,” you moan. “It’s so good. It’s so fucking good.” 

It takes a deep breath for you to focus on your task, spitting on your hand before grasping his hard dick in your palm, the tip red and shiny with his arousal, lowering your face to take him into your mouth. He’s salty on your tongue, your jaw open as wide as it will go as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head, stroking the considerable amount that won’t fit. 

His hands have a firm grip on your hips, pulling you farther down on his face, and you’re really worried he’s going to suffocate while he eats you out like a man starving. Pleasure in winding in your belly, tighter and tighter, with how he’s licking at your folds, your eyes rolling back in your head when he sucks your sensitive little clit between his lips.

He’s really going to make you come, and it feels so fucking good you’re having a hard time sucking his cock, so lost in what he’s doing to you—saliva is dripping out of your mouth and down his shaft, making your hand slide easily along him while you have half a mind to suckle on the head of him. 

You hit your breaking point suddenly, the coil inside you snapping, your body tensing up as you come with a loud moan, euphoria spreading out from your core. Joel groans into your cunt, his tongue pushing inside your sopping entrance to taste your release straight from the source, his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass and squeezing hard.  

He must get his fill because he moves you off his face, hearing him take a deep breath. 

“My good fuckin’ girl,” he says through panted breaths, rubbing your hips, his words causing a shiver to move down your spine. “Am I stuck with you?” 

You’d given up on blowing him, your forehead resting against his thigh. 

“Yeah,” you slur, sounding drunk. “How are you single?” It’s been a while since you’ve had that good of an orgasm. 

He sighs and taps your hip. “Turn around, baby.” 

Doing your best to turn, Joel helps you, getting you to straddle over his lower torso, your hands finding their place on his warm, flushed chest, seeing the grey hairs of his beard shining with your arousal and his lips frowning. 

“Like you said earlier,” he says. “I’m not a people person.” 

Your eyebrows knit together. 

“I’m people…” 

“No, you’re not. You’re my Texas Bluebonnet—my Blue.” His large palm comes up to stroke your cheek. 

You’re wondering something. “Why did you talk to me at dinner?” 

A sheepish look comes over his face. “‘Cause we were alone, and I didn’t have to worry about Ellie teasin’ me in front of you about my crush.” 

“She knows?”

He grimaces. “Suspects. Since there’s only three people on this godforsaken planet I like, and you’re one of them.” 

“And I’m the only one who’s not family—oh, that’s obvious.” 

“Yeah…” 

“Well, how do you want me?” 

He looks confused. “Huh?” 

“I said you can fuck me however you want,” you answer, sliding your hands up his pecs. “How do you want me, babe?” 

When he smiles this time, you get a glimpse of his teeth. “Ride me.”

His answer has you grinning. “Cowgirl, like a true Texan.” 

“I just love your tits,” he says, his big hands palming them. 

“Good to know,” you reply with a wink. 

Sitting up on your knees, you scoot back to get over his hips. His dick is still wet with your spit when you grab it and slide it through your folds before positioning him at your entrance. 

There are nerves swirling in your belly, your eyes landing on his dark ones as you slowly start to drop down, seeing his mouth fall open with a gasp, his hands grabbing onto your thighs. You knew there’d be a stretch, but he’s bordering on uncomfortable in how your walls have to expand for his size, feeling the slight burn. When you finally bottom out, you’re beyond full—you’ve never felt fuller, and it takes your breath away. 

“Jesus Christ,” his words are said through his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t move.”

His hard cock is throbbing inside you. 

“Been a while?” 

“Yeah.”

“Same. You’re so fucking big I’m gonna be sore after this.”

His dick jerks as he groans, “Don’t say that.”  

“Damn, you’re that close?” you ask, soothingly stroking your hands over his chest. 

You watch as his eyes blink open, the grumpy expression you’re used to appearing on his face. 

“Don’t make fun of me.” He slaps your ass. “I haven’t fucked in a long time, and now I’m inside the perfect pussy—you’d be strugglin’ too if you were me.”

“I’m not making fun of you, Joel.” You lean forward to cup his cheek, feeling prickling stubble under your palm. “I think it’s hot. Like, you have no idea how flattered I’d be if I made you come right away—talk about an ego boost.”

He doesn’t look convinced, his eyes narrowing.  

“Are you just sayin’ that to make me feel better?”

“Nope.” To prove your point, you sit up, bracing yourself with your hands on his chest as you start circling your hips. 

His mouth goes slack, his eyes widening, a choked noise pulling from his throat that makes you smirk. “Fuck,” he pants. There’s sweat beading on his forehead, his cheeks a rosy pink. “You fit me like a fuckin’ glove.” 

You’re slowly building into an up-and-down motion, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock rubbing against spots you didn’t know existed, sparks of pleasure igniting in your center as you throw your head back. 

He must get a hold of himself because both of his hands come down on each of your asscheeks in loud, resounding smacks before he’s gripping them to help you move. 

Looking down at him, there’s concentration on his brow. 

“Your tight little pussy is takin’ me so fuckin’ well,” he says, hearing the wet sounds where you’re joined. “You love how I stretch you open?” 

“Yes,” you moan. 

You’re moving a little faster, moving up, and falling down a little harder, making the fire in your belly get hotter and hotter. 

“Lean down.” 

Doing as he says, your hands are on either side of his head while he continues helping you ride him. He lifts his face to pull a pebbled nipple between his lips, and the pleasure shoots straight to your pussy, making you gasp and more arousal spill around his length. 

He laves at one bud, then the other as you work yourself up, the new angle allowing the coarse hairs at the base of his cock to rub deliciously against your clit, and you know you’re close.

Joel is groaning loudly, clearly in heaven, with his dick inside you and his mouth on your tits. 

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he says around your hard nipple. “You gonna let me feel you squeeze my dick? Let me fuckin’ have it. Be a good fuckin’ girl and give it to me.” 

It’s all too much, everything coming to a head as you fall over the edge with a cry of his name, clenching so hard around him, you’ve stopped moving with his cock buried to the root, pleasure radiating through your body. 

Joel’s breathing hard under you, and you don’t sound any better while you come down from your high. 

His arms suddenly hug you close to him, and you squeak in surprise when he flips you onto your back with his dick still inside you and his hips nestled in the cradle of your thighs. Lips find yours in a searing kiss, moaning as you taste yourself, welcoming his tongue when it slips into your mouth to tangle with your own. 

He starts moving to chase his high, his thrusts hard and fast. 

The bedsprings are squeaking loudly, the headboard banging into the wall, hearing the wet suck of your pussy taking his cock and your muffled moans paired with his muffled groans. There’s no mistaking what’s happening in this bedroom, and you just hope your neighbors don’t complain in the morning. 

Your fingers have threaded into his hair, your bodies sweaty, his lips leave yours, opening your eyes to see his face screwed up like he’s in pain. 

“Where do you want it?” he grits out. 

If he’s asking, then he knows the risk. 

“Inside.” 

He opens his eyes wide. “Are you sure?” 

It is a rare thing to want these days. 

“Yes.” 

His pace speeds up, grunting as he pistons into you, resting his head in the crook of your neck, feeling his hot breaths. 

“You can fuckin’ have it,” he grunts. “Fuck you full of me—milk me fuckin’ dry. Fuck, you’re perfect.” 

You know he’s close when his thrusts get jerky, then he’s pushing in hard one last time with a guttural groan, feeling the hot spurts of his come filling you, his hips continuing to roll until they finally come to a complete stop. It’s obvious he’s wrung out with how he practically collapses on top of you, but you welcome the weight, pushing your fingers into his hair and scratching at his scalp, which receives appreciative hums. 

Minutes pass that neither of you speaks. 

“‘M sorry,” the words are murmured into your neck. 

“For what?” you softly ask.

“Makin’ you think I didn’t like you.” 

“It’s kinda my fault, too. I mean, I am aware you don’t like people but you’ve eaten two meals a day with me for almost a year, so obviously you must like me somewhat.” 

His head comes up with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips frowning. 

“I like you more than somewhat.” 

You smile. His hair is a mess, and you go about combing your fingers through it as you say, “Yes, I know that now. You like me.” 

“I do.” 

“And I like you.” 

“Good.” 

“I said you’re stuck with me, so can this be more than a one-time thing?” 

His eyes squint in that same way where he thinks something is obvious. 

“What?" he says. "I’m not lettin’ you go anywhere. You’re mine—my Blue.” 

“Good. ‘Cause you’re mine, too.” 

He kisses you passionately, and you lose yourself in it for a second until a thought has your eyes flying open and you pushing his face away. 

“What?” he asks, bewildered. 

“How are you going to tell Ellie?” 

“Shit. Uh, we can sit her down tomorrow night—”

“No, this is a conversation you need to have with her alone.” 

He winces. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow night after dinner...” 

Is Joel Miller your boyfriend? 

He absolutely hates you giving him that label, grumbling he prefers partner, but yes, he is your boyfriend. 

Did Joel sneak out of your house in the early morning hours to his own so Ellie wouldn’t know he was gone all night?

Also, yes. 

It’s the morning after, and you’re trying to act normal, ignoring how nervous you feel and the soreness between your legs as you sit down in your usual spot in front of Joel with your plate of breakfast. He’s changed into clean clothes and looks like he hasn’t slept, sipping on one of the two cups of shitty coffee in front of him, Ellie next to him already digging into some oatmeal with her spoon, which makes you realize—

“Ah, fuck,” you say, both of them looking at you. “I forgot to grab a fork.” 

“I’ll get you one, baby,” Joel says as he sets his coffee down and starts to get up.

The three of you go completely still. Your eyes are wide, Joel’s close in regret, his cheeks turning pink, and Ellie looks like she’s going to explode with excitement until—

“You guys FUCKED!” she shouts. 

People around the mess hall turn to stare. 

“Ellie,” Joel hisses, his head whipping toward her. 

“Sorry, sorry,” she says in a quieter voice, the rest of the room returning to eating. “I knew it! It’s about fucking time! So when are you getting married?” She’s looking between the two of you. “You know, I’ve always wanted a mom! And a brother! I’ll settle for a sister, though. Is she moving in with us, Joel?” She’s staring at him expectantly with a grin. 

Joel’s face is bright red. “I’m gettin’ the fuckin’ fork,” he grumbles as he gets up from his seat. 

Masterlist

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[cha-melodius]

Firstprince + Versailles for your fandom fest!

Congrats on your milestones!

(Versailles was such an interesting choice! A different palace? I got it in my head to write a historical AU, so you get 1785 Versailles and rival ambassadors to the court of France. I hope you enjoy!)

chamel’s fandom fest info | read all the fics

Lessons in Foreign Diplomacy

(firstprince, 5.3k, E; read it below or on AO3)

It had only made sense when Congress had sent him to Paris in 1784 to negotiate a large number of treaties with various European states. Alex is damned good at negotiating, and getting a good outcome for these agreements was vital to the continued success of their new republic. What he was not as pleased about is the missive from Washington a few months later assigning him to succeed Franklin as Minister to the Court of Versailles. Don’t get him wrong, living in Paris is— well, it’s pretty great, actually, but he’d still rather be back in Philadelphia, helping govern the country he worked so hard to liberate. Alex knows he’s helping shape U.S. foreign policy, and that’s important too. Much of the work he does is extremely rewarding.

What he despises are the times when the King and Queen decree that he come to the palace at Versailles for some inane weekend of fancy balls and dinner parties and lawn games. He daren’t refuse, though; Louis’ support in the war was instrumental, so Alex has to go pretend to be delighted no matter how distasteful the trappings of the monarchy are to him. The gatherings never fail to make him feel utterly out of place, full of the kind of European nobility and extravagantly wealthy people who look at him as some kind of shabby, poor, charity case from across the sea.

Then there’s the British Ambassador, Henry Fox-Mountchristen. He’s new in the position, just like Alex is, and a Duke of somewhere or other—Alex tries not to pay attention, honestly. All he knows is that any representative of the British government is automatically his enemy. The fact that he’s a noble on top of it is just icing on the cake. Alex had met him first at one of these fancy parties; he’d made no attempt at hiding his disdain, Henry had looked down his nose at him, and they’ve loathed each other ever since.

Annoyingly, he’s very good at his job. In the year that Alex has been working out trade deals and new commerce treaties, Henry has been there representing British interests in the negotiations, and is usually the only one in the room who can go toe-to-toe with Alex. He is constantly getting in the way forcing Alex to settle for less than he’d hoped for (except for that one time when he actually helped Alex negotiate a better deal with Portugal by tying their terms to Great Britain’s, which— Alex still doesn’t know what that was about).

Even more annoyingly, he’s hotter than the fucking sun.

It’s kind of ironic that, in a lavish, opulent court full of lithe young women in low-cut gowns, the one person Alex can’t tear his eyes away from is the Brit wearing frocks that are about as boring as you could get away with at Versailles. It’s those fucking cheekbones, and those piercing blue eyes, and those full lips that Alex kind of wants to bite. Alex’s frustrating desire—as shocking as it had been to recognize—absolutely does nothing to soften his feelings toward the other man; if anything, it just stokes his anger. Why the fuck did it have to be him?

Tonight, Alex is at one such fancy party, drinking too much champagne, dancing with beautiful women, and glaring at Henry from across the room. He is, as always, wearing a stupid powdered wig that makes him look absurdly pale (Alex refuses to wear one, of course, and his appearance never fails to cause a stir even when he’s wearing ridiculously ornate silk coats and waistcoats, though he suspects it’s just as likely because of how brown he is). Henry’s dark blue coat, finely embroidered with silver thread, is downright subdued in comparison to the flash surrounding him, but every time he moves the embroidery catches the light and he shines.

It is so irritating.

Alex watches as he stands off in a corner, drinking champagne and blatantly ignoring the obvious flirting of many hopeful ladies looking for a dance. It’s absurd, really—not that he draws that much attention, because just look at him, but that after nearly a year of this he still hasn’t managed to get the stick out of his ass. Alex despises everything these parties represent, and he still manages to attend them without acting like he’d prefer to be put in the stocks.

Drinking plenty of the free-flowing wine and cognac usually helps with that.

He’s not even really aware of his feet carrying him over to Henry until he’s standing next to the other man. Alex doesn’t even look at him, instead staring out at the ballroom floor where the guests are dancing increasingly haphazard waltzes as the night stretches on, though he sees Henry tense out of the corner of his eye.

“So is there something wrong with your feet, or do you think you’re just better than everyone?” Alex asks eventually.

Alex hasn’t turned his attention away from the room, but Henry’s face snaps toward him. “I beg your pardon?”

“They say you’re the most eligible bachelor here, and you haven’t danced with anyone tonight.”

“Watching me that closely, are you?” Henry returns dryly. Alex has to bite down on a protest that he wasn’t because, well. Trying to deny it would just make him sound like a petulant child. When he doesn’t respond, Henry continues, “None of them interest me, and I wouldn’t wish to… lead anyone on.”

Alex huffs out a scornful laugh as he finally turns to face him. “So you are that conceited, got it.”

“That is not—”

“You just said that no one in this room interests you,” Alex interrupts before he can finish. “You do understand how that sounds, right?”

Henry stares at him for a long moment, a piercing look in his eye that Alex wants to turn away from. He doesn’t, though.

“I didn’t say that no one here interested me,” Henry says, his voice a low rumble, barely audible above the din of the party, that makes something flare hot and bright low in Alex’s gut.

“I— what?”

“You know, I think I’ve rather had enough festivities for the evening,” Henry announces in his usual clipped cadence. “Good night, Mr. Claremont-Diaz. Do try not to cause another international incident tonight?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Alex spits automatically. That was one time, and it wasn’t an incident anyway. Marie Antoinette thought it was fucking hilarious.

Alex knows for sure that Henry’s had plenty to drink himself when the corner of his mouth twitches and he quips, “Another time, perhaps,” before he strides off, leaving Alex gaping as he tries desperately not to imagine exactly what that would entail.

~~~~~

Despite the sheer amount of alcohol he consumed the previous night and how late he was up, Alex wakes fairly early the next morning. He knows from experience that the rest of the court won’t show their faces until much later today, which means he can enjoy the solitude of the empty gardens as he strolls along finely graveled paths between carefully manicured hedges and sculpted trees. He lets his feet carry him aimlessly, trusting that he’ll be able to find his way back eventually and not really caring that much if he ends up late to some stupid event.

He’s certainly not expecting to encounter anyone else out here.

The quiet crunch of footsteps on gravel alerts him to the other person’s presence somewhere beyond the next turn. He could walk the other way, keep to himself and avoid the intruder on his thoughts, but he doesn’t. Alex keeps moving forward as the other footsteps approach him, until they meet at the juncture of two hedges, a statue of a cherub marking the intersection.

Henry.

He’s wearing a light blue coat with almost no decorative embroidery, which is subdued and boring and also makes his eyes shine with the pale, icy, breathtaking blue of the sky in midwinter. Without a wig, his golden blond hair looks absurdly soft as it flops over his forehead, and Alex catches himself wondering what it would feel like between his fingers before quickly closing the door on that. Jesus fuck, he’s got to stop thinking these things.

Especially since it’s clear Henry doesn’t care for his company either. The corner of his mouth pinches and his posture goes rigid, as it always does when he sees Alex, and for a moment Alex thinks he’s going to just keep walking. He does stop, though, inclining his head minutely in stiff politeness.

“Mr. Claremont-Diaz.”

“Ambassador,” Alex returns, because he refuses to use Your Grace. “I hadn’t expected to meet anyone else out in the gardens this morning.”

“Yes, well,” Henry says in an odd tone. His eyes skitter away across the landscape and he tips his chin slightly. “Only part of this bloody place that’s tolerable, aren’t they?”

Alex blinks several times, sure he didn’t just hear that. Henry’s member of the aristocracy, born to this kind of bullshit; Alex never really considered that Henry might detest the opulence and artifice as much as he does, even though, looking back, it should have been obvious from the way he comports himself.

He’s not entirely sure what to do with this information.

“I’m glad to see you upright after your indulgences last night,” Henry adds, as if to prove he’s still a prick.

Alex opens his mouth to respond, but before he can get anything out, a rumble of thunder cuts him off. The clouds have been thick all morning, but now they’re downright menacing, heavy and dark and foreboding of a storm. The kind of clouds that impress upon you a desire to get under cover with some speed; too bad they’re deep in the middle of the garden and Alex has no clue where the nearest shelter is. Hardly a moment later, a few fat drops of rain splatter down onto his shoulders and head. Henry turns a frown up at the clouds as dark spots appear on his pale coat.

And then the sky fucking opens.

It’s a pounding, torrential rain, the kind that soaks through layers of fine wool and linen within minutes so that you lose all hope of staying even a little dry. Still, one hardly wants to stand out in it. Alex spins aimlessly, wondering which way to run, when he feels a tug on his elbow and Henry is calling, “this way,” over the din.

Apparently, blindly following his bitter enemy is a thing he’s doing now.

They run, even though they’re both already drenched, and before too long they emerge from the woods next to a small octagonal building overlooking a lake—the Belvedere, sometimes used as a lounge when the Queen entertains guests out at Trianon. At the moment it’s empty save for a collection of couches, and they stumble in, dripping liberally all over the marble floors. Alex wastes no time before stripping off his coat and tossing it onto one of the lounges, silk pillows be damned, and he’s got his waistcoat halfway off when he hears a strangled noise from behind him.

“What are you doing?” Henry asks, a scandalized expression on his face. It’s irritating that even now, when he kind of looks like a wet dog with his blond hair plastered against his head, he’s still breathtakingly beautiful.

“Not particularly interested in standing around in soaking wet wool,” Alex huffs. At least if he gets his outer things off, his shirt might dry a bit while they wait out the storm. It’s not like he’s getting fucking naked.

Which is definitely not something he’s thinking about now.

“Apologies if I’m offending your delicate sensibilities, Your Majesty,” Alex sneers as he drapes his waistcoat over the back of the couch.

Henry’s cheeks have gone decidedly pink, and when Alex turns toward him fully, he looks away, crossing his arms over his chest and staring fixedly at the opposite wall. Outside, the rain continues to pour down, surrounding them with a dull hiss as it pounds on the roof and lashes against the windows.

“What is your grievance with me?” Henry asks eventually, sounding nothing so much as tired.

Alex stares at him. “Is that a joke? I’m American. Maybe you heard, we fought this whole war against you—”

“Not against me,” Henry interrupts firmly.

“Fine, your country. It makes no difference.”

“It bloody well does!” Henry snaps. He turns away again, pressing his lips into a thin line as he stares out of one of the windows. “Did you ever think to ask me what my views were on American independence, Mr. Claremont-Diaz?”

“What?”

“Of course not. You just assumed.”

“You’re a representative of the British government. Why wouldn’t I assume?” Alex thinks it’s a fair question. He knows Henry was a member of parliament before he became Ambassador. His family is exceedingly well-connected and highly placed in the government. It feels like a pretty fucking safe assumption.

Apparently not, though.

Henry gives him a withering look. “Oh, and I’m sure there was no dissension in the writing of your little Declaration, then?”

Alex bristles at ‘little Declaration’, but Henry unfortunately has a point. “Fine,” he grits out. “What’s your opinion on American independence, Ambassador?”

“I wasn’t the only one in Parliament who spoke against the prospect of an expensive and bloody war,” Henry says evenly, staring out the window again. “A few even genuinely believe in the principles of self-governance, as it turns out. We’ve had to be… cautious in expressing ourselves, of course. I happen to feel strongly that people should have a say in their own lives,” he adds, and somehow it doesn’t sound like he’s talking about government anymore. He lapses into silence, letting the sound of the rain fill up the space between them. Then the corner of his mouth tugs into a tiny smirk. “Thought we should have cut you lot loose ages ago, actually. Much more trouble than you’re worth.”

“Hey!” Alex exclaims, but it also shocks a laugh out of him. Which is… weird. He stares at Henry, trying to make all of this new information fit into a portrait he now realizes was startlingly incomplete. He thinks, a little distantly, that he kind of needs a whole new painting. “I’m sorry for assuming,” he says eventually. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re always a prick to me.”

“You hate me, Alex,” Henry says flatly, his mouth going tight again, and something inside Alex turns over at the use of his given name. “Am I supposed to merely smile through the insults?”

Alex can’t help but wince. He wraps his arms around his waist, which he blames on the chill and not the way he’s feeling a little too vulnerable at the moment. Spring’s warmth seems to have abandoned them today, and the cold stone of the Belvedere is doing nothing to help, nor is the way his damp shirt is clinging to his skin.

“I don’t hate you,” he admits quietly. He has a lot of conflicting feelings about Henry. Somehow hate has never been one of them. “I wanted to, but I don’t.”

“I’m not certain that’s better,” Henry says, an obvious wariness in his voice. 

Alex doesn’t really know what to say. He hugs his arms a little tighter around himself and shivers.

“For Christ’s sake, this is why you leave the wool on,” Henry huffs unexpectedly, and a moment later he’s crossing the room and grabbing Alex’s discarded coat. He stands right in front of Alex and reaches around him so that he can drape the coat over Alex’s back. “There,” he says as he tugs the fronts close by the lapels, then reaches up to smooth his hands across Alex’s shoulders.

It’s only then that Henry seems to notice their proximity, or the way he’s still holding onto Alex. Their eyes lock together, and a bolt of heat shoots down Alex’s spine that has nothing to do with the coat. A flush of pink blooms across Henry’s cheeks and his lips part slightly as he inhales, and then he starts pulling away, which is the very last thing Alex wants.

“Henry, wait,” he murmurs as one of his hands reaches out to snag the front of Henry’s coat almost of its own accord. Henry freezes. “Don’t… don’t go.”

Alex thinks of all the times he’s caught Henry staring at him with a look he couldn’t quite read. Of the way that Henry had said I didn’t say no one here interested me only last night. He looks searchingly up into his blue eyes now, dark and slaty in the low light, full of both trepidation and something like hunger.

“I can’t…” Henry starts, but his voice trails off. He lets himself be tugged in closer, his eyes dropping to Alex’s mouth. “We can’t,” he whispers.

“Fairly certain those aren’t words that are allowed in the Court of Versailles,” Alex quips softly.

He takes a step backward so that he’s leaning against the back of the couch, hoping that Henry will follow when Alex pulls him along. He doesn’t really want to think about the relief that surges through him when Henry does, nor how it feels when Henry lets Alex pull him so close that their hips are pressed together. One of his thighs slots between Alex’s, and Alex inhales sharply at the contact.

“Alex, please,” Henry murmurs tightly, his face tipped down toward Alex’s. Alex can’t tell if it’s please yes or please don’t.

“Shhh,” Alex hushes. He lets his grip go slack, but Henry doesn’t pull away. “It’s all right, sweetheart.”

Henry closes his eyes and lets out a shuddery exhale, then he sways forward until their foreheads meet. Their noses press together, and Alex breathes in deeply, filling his senses with Henry. Who turns out to smell like wet wool—which is admittedly not great—but also like the cologne he wears and also something that reminds him of the spring air. Alex nudges forward, tipping his head slightly, until finally Henry closes the narrow gap between their lips and presses their mouths together.

Alex had always thought that if he were to end up kissing Henry, it would be rough and rushed. A battle, as much as their verbal sparring matches had always been, each of them trying to gain the upper hand. He never once imagined it could be like this, soft and syrupy slow, a languid give and take. One of Henry’s hands is clutched almost possessively at the nape of Alex’s neck, the other curled carefully around his jaw, and he takes his time mapping out Alex’s mouth as the kiss gets deeper and more heated, like he’s trying to commit it to memory.

It’s a lot to take in, so Alex stops trying; he lets it wash over him, soaking into his bones as thoroughly as the rain had done. His chilled fingers move to Henry’s waistcoat, fumbling with the slippery buttons until he finally gets it open. He slides his hands underneath it, onto the dip of Henry’s waist, his hot skin searing through the thin linen shirt against Alex’s palm. Henry groans at the contact, his hips rocking forward against Alex’s, and the movement makes the depths of their mutual arousal all too clear.

Alex drops a hand to the front of Henry’s breeches and cups him through the wet fabric, which draws another ragged please from Henry’s throat as he presses into Alex’s palm. That one, at least, Alex is sure of. He flips them around so Henry’s pressed up against the back of the couch, then pulls back just enough to reach the buttons holding his fall-front breeches closed. Too many fucking buttons, actually, but he gets them undone, and then he’s tugging out the long tails of Henry’s shirt and dropping to his knees as he finally, finally gets a hand around Henry’s cock.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he says without really meaning to, but it’s worth it for the way that it makes Henry shudder and tip his head back as he thrusts into Alex’s grip.

Henry’s knuckles are going white where his hands are tightly gripping the ornate scrollwork carved along the top of the couch, and Alex prises one off to bring it to his head instead. Henry’s fingers twine into his damp curls in a way that makes a hot jolt of arousal lance through Alex, and that’s new information he’s absolutely not going to think about later. Alex licks his lips in anticipation as he works his hand up and down the shaft of Henry’s cock, thumbing over the crown and grinning at Henry’s moan when he rubs at the sensitive spot on the underside.

“Have you ever—” Alex starts, though he can’t quite make himself say it. “With another man?”

Henry lets out a soft puff of laughter before he opens his eyes and looks down at him. “More than a few times.”

There’s something indescribably attractive about Henry’s confidence, in the idea that he’s experienced in something like this, but it does absolutely nothing for Alex’s nerves. He must not manage to keep them off his face, because the smirk on Henry’s lips softens.

“You haven’t,” he says. It’s not really a question. Alex just shakes his head, and Henry’s hand slides down to thumb tenderly along the edge of his jaw. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Alex says firmly. “I want you.” He swallows. Works his hand on Henry’s cock again just to see the way his eyelids flutter. “Want to feel you on my tongue. Want to taste you.”

“Christ, Alex,” Henry groans. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Not just yet,” Alex says, then wraps his lips around Henry’s cock and slowly sinks forward.

It takes him a moment to get used to it, the weight on his tongue, the taste of his skin, the stretch of his jaw muscles as he moves. He carefully catalogs Henry’s reactions, every gasp and moan and shiver as he swirls his tongue or twists his wrist around what he can’t quite take in his mouth. Henry slowly falls apart under his ministrations, and it’s so unbelievably arousing that Alex is aching in his own breeches, unsure if the curses spilling from Henry’s lips in his posh accent or the way he says that’s good, Alex is doing it for him more.

Then Henry’s fingers close more tightly around his curls as his gasps reach a crescendo, which Alex only later realizes might have been intended as a warning; at the time it just makes Alex moan and try to take him deeper, and then Henry is spilling onto his tongue with a breathless, delirious laugh.

Henry’s chest is still heaving when he hooks his fingers into the front of Alex’s shirt and drags him up into a searing kiss. It’s hard and deep, Henry licking into his mouth and biting down on his lower lip, and it’s all Alex can do not to whimper into it. He’s never had a kiss that felt this all-consuming, like he’s been ignited from the inside and he doesn’t even care if it burns through him and leaves nothing but ash.

He barely realizes what’s happening when Henry grabs his hips and pushes back, manhandling him over to some kind of chaise longue that he only becomes aware of when his calves hit the edge of it and he collapses backward onto the seat.

“Hey, so, uh,” he says as Henry climbs over top of him, a predatory glint in his eye that absolutely does not make Alex’s cock throb. “When you said you weren’t not interested in anyone at the party…”

“Was I talking about you?” Henry finishes, giving him a look like it’s a stupid question.

Look, Alex knew it was a stupid question before it finished leaving his mouth. Still.

“Well, I dunno, maybe you have a list or something.”

Henry stops inches from his lips and glares down at him. “No, you rebellious miscreant, it’s only ever been you,” he says, then kisses him so thoroughly that Alex might actually forget how to speak.

Which is probably the point.

~~~~~

They’re seated next to each other at dinner that evening, which is probably Marie Antoinette’s idea of a joke. A day ago, Alex would have been annoyed beyond belief. Now, though, he knows what Henry looks like as he slowly comes apart. Now he knows what Henry’s lush lips look like wrapped around his cock.

What a difference a few hours makes.

Henry is standing stiffly next to his chair when Alex saunters up, his face perfectly composed in rigid formality as he inclines his head. “Good evening, Mr. Claremont-Diaz.”

“Your Grace,” Alex returns, pitching his voice to convey just the right balance of insolence and provocation.

Something flashes in Henry’s eyes, probably meant as a warning, but also suggesting that he might enjoy hearing it in a very different context, and also that he’d really like to drag Alex off into the nearest cupboard and do terrible things to him. Alex certainly understands the impulse. It’s been less than six hours since the Belvedere, and Alex still wants him so intensely that it’s nearly a physical ache. His fingers itch to reach out and touch, to tug that stupid wig off his head, to press his thumb to the corner of Henry’s mouth. Fuck.

Instead, he puts on his politician smile and turns to greet the person sitting on his other side, who turns out to be some Spanish princess. She does not seem very impressed with this arrangement—typical for royalty, really—but warms a bit once she realizes she can speak Spanish to him rather than the obligatory French. Alex and Henry spend most of the dinner seemingly ignoring each other and talking to the other guests seated around them. Seemingly, because Alex actually uses the cover of the table to variously press his knee to Henry’s, or hook their ankles together, or slide a hand high up onto Henry’s thigh and squeeze. The latter he does when Henry’s attention is turned away, and it makes Henry choke on his wine and direct a vicious glare at him, which Alex marks down as a victory.

Sometime during the third course, they find themselves both at liberty when the rest of their dinner companions become thoroughly wrapped up in other conversations. Henry is quite clearly trying to ignore him, which Alex just as obviously cannot allow to stand.

“Did you mean it?” Alex asks, his voice low but casual, so as not to draw any attention from those around them.

“What?” Henry asks as he slants a look toward Alex.

“When you said maybe I could fuck you another time.”

Henry’s fork slips out of his grip and clatters to the plate, and several sets of eyes turn toward him. His eyes are wide as he stares at Alex in shock, but there’s also something undeniably heated in his gaze. “You are, without a doubt, the worst person I’ve ever met,” he says flatly, loud enough to be overheard.

Alex can’t quite suppress his grin. It draws a few titters of laughter and whispers from the surrounding guests, most of whom are well aware of Alex and Henry’s mutual enmity. When nothing further comes of it, though, they return to their conversations.

“So is that a no?” Alex asks eventually, still smirking.

Henry glances around, but no one seems to be paying them any attention. “Come to my chambers tonight,” he says crisply, as if they were going to be meeting about policy, “and we shall discuss the matter further.”

~~~~~

They don’t truly revisit the conversation until much later, when Henry is splayed out naked on top of the silk bedding and Alex is two fingers deep inside him. Well, they did cover the obvious question, but:

“The worst person you ever met, huh?” Alex says, pressing the words against the inside of Henry’s thigh.

“Are you really bringing this up now,” Henry huffs, exasperated.

“I dunno,” Alex says. He twists his fingers to reach the spot he’s discovered that makes Henry gasp and tremble. It’s been an enlightening experience so far. “What you really think of me seems relevant.”

“I think,” Henry gets out tightly, “that you’re stubborn—”

Alex bites down on the tender skin at the crease of his hip.

“—opinionated—”

A slow lick up the length of his shaft.

“—arrogant—”

A hot breath, ghosting over the crown.

“—uncouth—”

Alex curls his fingers, and Henry whimpers as his spine arches up off the bed.

“—and if you don’t get inside me right now, I’m going to stonewall all of your treaty negotiations for the next month.”

Alex laughs softly as he withdraws his fingers and climbs up the bed, seeking out the oil to slick himself up. “Oh, well then, how could I refuse?” he returns, grinning at the look of desperation on Henry’s face when he teases the head of his cock at his rim. “You’ve got a real honeyed tongue there, sweetheart. Know how to make a boy feel special.”

Henry gets a hand behind his neck in an iron grip and drags him down into a kiss, digging his heels into the back of Alex’s thighs until Alex is sinking into the tight heat of his body. It’s a lot more intense than he thought it would be, and he makes an embarrassing punched-out sound at the sensation of Henry utterly surrounding him.

And that’s before Henry releases his neck, looks up at him with his face impossibly gorgeous and undone, and murmurs, “I also think you’re the most incredible man I’ve ever known.”

It’s too much, like the first kiss in the Belvedere was too much; Alex knows how to handle the verbal sparring, the familiarity of traded insults, even in the middle of sex. He doesn’t know what to do with the strange twisting in his chest at Henry’s words, with the knot that’s lodged in his throat. They’re not— this isn’t—

He lets Henry pull him into another kiss, lets the give and take of their bodies quiet his spiraling thoughts, until there is only Henry’s hands in his hair, and the cut of his teeth against Alex’s lip, and the roll of their hips together in perfect, earth-shattering harmony.

~~~~~

Alex needs to go. He needs to get out of this bed, get dressed, and go to his own chambers. It’s not as though people stumbling out of others’ apartments is an unusual sight in the palace during one of these weekends, but if he were to be seen leaving Henry’s—

Well. The rumors wouldn’t stay quiet for long, of that he’s certain.

Instead he curls a little closer against Henry’s side, presses a kiss to his shoulder. That’s probably too much, too, but Henry just hums softly, a small, blissful smile curving his lips. Somehow, Alex thinks he’s even more beautiful in this moment than he’s ever been before.

“So,” Alex says eventually, “when we get back to Paris…”

They both live there, not even that far away from each other. They could…

He doesn’t know what. Have some kind of sordid, illicit affair? What would that mean for their lives? Their occupations? It’d be messy. Dangerous. A terrifically, catastrophically stupid idea.

A little crease forms between Henry’s brows as he frowns, and for a moment Alex fears that he’s misread everything. Maybe this was never supposed to leave Versailles. Alex doesn’t know what’s even possible for them to have outside these walls, but he also doesn’t know how he’s meant to go back to what they were before now that he’s had this.

“It seems to me,” Henry says carefully, “that there should be ample opportunity for… improving diplomatic relations when we return?”

There’s a beat of silence before Alex can’t choke back the laugh bubbling out of his chest any longer, and the smile that’s been slowly pushing its way onto Henry’s lips finally breaks free. Then they’re both dissolving into giggles, and Alex is grinning like an idiot when Henry pulls him into another lingering kiss.

Yeah. Worst idea he’s ever had.

[penname-artist]

It’s kind of hard to find any good source materials that I can pluck from in regards to discussing the “yays and nays” of writing convincing PTSD, but I’m gonna take the knowledge I do have - both from my experiences and from everything I’ve picked up and learned around that - and just leave a few key points lying around like crumbs for y’all. Mostly made with writing trauma in mind:

-Though there are exceptions, for the most part, your sex and horomones may determine how you respond to stress and trauma. Higher testosterone makes it much more likely to react to trauma in a more “stereotypical” way, fighting back with aggression, deflecting, sometimes turning to addictions as means of an escape. Some of that comes from toxic masculinity, but some of it is just from having less natural emotional depth or a harder time venturing that emotional depth. (In summary: men put off therapy. A lot.)

-Meanwhile, more estrogen-based people will more often feel the emotional wringing of depression or fear, and actually become more vulnerable to getting in toxic situations. When you’re at a low point, it may be difficult to make clearer judgements, and seeking comfort for the sake of comfort might end up taking a toll like any other negative outlets. (Again with “there are exceptions” because not everybody responds in these ways, there’s definitely a uniqueness to the brain’s stress responses)

-For ye writing people, here’s some ideas on not-so-good outlets one might turn to when facing trauma: alcoholism, painkillers and substance abuse, anger outbursts (towards people or things equally), emotional outbursts, self-isolation (can be anything from leaving a virtual chat to locking ones self in a bathroom - both of which I have done, *ahem*), self-harm (note that this also includes restricting yourself from things such as food, water, communication, sleep, etc), co-dependency (ie looking for whoever will pay attention to them regardless of what that might do in the long run)

-And here’s some better ones: hobbies, games (particularly ones that require focus), physical exercise, basic self-care (look we all should be taking care of ourselves anyways but lots of us just don’t so doing that actually really fucking helps. Dude sometimes a long hot bath and Epsom salt can just make me not want to unexist), m e d i c a t i o n,  t h e r a p y, positive social groups or support groups (not specifically a therapy support group, but any group that is supportive towards healing from things like PTSD), meditation- and/or just sitting with your fucking feelings and acknowledging it’s a THING

-PTSD is oftentimes this tree that grows from a root problem (this can be something like family trauma, war, assault, abuse, emotional neglect, loss, literally any situation which made the person feel helpless, physically OR emotionally) and that tree branches into various symptoms and side effects. Some of these are bigger and broader terms, like depression (feeling hopeless about ones self and life, often becoming so emotionally overrun that you’re just numb and don’t care anymore) or anxiety (sometimes social, sometimes situational, or both, or all)

-In other ways, side effects are very specific things that comes from the same source. These can (but do NOT always) include: nightmares, flashbacks, bodily tremors, tics, headaches, bowel issues, heart palpitations, and a broad category called psychosis (a big fancy word that means you sense something that is not actually there)

-On that psychosis thing, because lo and behold I fucking have that problem, it’s usually not as “real” as it’s made out to be. Even we question ourselves for the realness of it, which if anything kinda adds to the fear because sometimes you really don’t know. Anyways you can experience psychosis in a lot of ways, from hearing things to seeing types of hallucinations, to believing in the higher meaning of things around you and having types of delusions (I struggle with those the most). It can also vary in frequency. Some people see shadowy figures all the time at night. Some people hear stuff only once every blue moon. Often, they come in episodes that only last for a short period of time (hours to days)

-Another vague category is dissociation, a feeling of “spacing out” that might be kinda frequent and kinda freaky. People can dissociate in different ways so it’s a little harder to pinpoint how to feel, but to an outsider it really just looks like your brain did an Error 404 on you. Some people feel paralyzed and cannot move. Some people feel out of their own bodies. And some feel like the world around them doesn’t really exist. Whatever the case, this is closely tied to the flashbacks thing and it can really take you outside of the present moment. It’s easy to get lost.

-Trauma does not have to be around 100% of the time. Sometimes people can heal from trauma and almost function like normal again. But it may still always exist, and while manageable, some things like triggers (I want to cover those but I don’t have the time at the moment to) will still be hard to deal with and take time and gentleness to get through. Some people can overcome PTSD in months to years. Others overcome it in decades. Some never overcome it, but it gets manageable with time and taking the efforts to process and heal.

Okay that’s all I got time for this morning :’)

[lauriab]

Alright guys I’ve decided to split up my "review" of phantom italy into many posts because god knows I don’t have the patience to make one well thought out post. Also I use the term review loosely. I’ll be listing random remarks, not making a structured text, I m on vacation dammit hehe.

AUCTION/OVERTURE

Not much to say about the auction, the chandelier was quite nice but for me the real showstopper is the transition that takes place during the overture.

Since this is a smaller production the chandelier doesn’t get lifted above the audience, instead it simply ascends to the ceiling of the stage.

However they absolutely make up for it by taking advantage of the turning stage to offer a very cinematic looking transition where you get introduced to different characters while the overture plays.

I’m sure I’m forgetting someone but the managers, Joseph Buquet, Mme Giry and others all get a turn to walk on stage in slo-motion as if going about their daily life at the opera.

I actually found this much more entertaining than the usual simple « chandelier lifting » transition

HANNIBAL/THINK OF ME

I loved Carlotta in this production. She definitely stood out in comparison to other Carlotta’s I’ve seen.

Instead of simply being a whiny Diva you really get the feeling that this Carlotta cares about her position. Her theatrics simply seem like a conscious act to make people do what she wants.

However I will point out that she sometimes didn’t pronounce her lines very clearly, which is obviously not an issue if you are a phan who has memorized every word but I can imagine a first time audience member might have a hard time understanding certain things.

Earl was amazing as Andre but you guys already knew that hehe.

I’ve already seen someone talk about this but I did love the costuming for the rehearsal. Half of the actors had accessories thrown on over their normal suits which is definitely what most rehearsals usually look like in real life. The theatre kid inside of me relates hard.

Loved Amelia as Christine. They used the turning stage during think of me which I once again found to be a good way to add visual interest to a usually pretty basic scene.

MIRROR SCENE

🩷M e g💜G i r y💙

I was a very happy little bi.

Meg was absolutely in love with Christine and that is so valid for her. I think she might have been more obsessed with Christine than both Raoul and Erik combined.

We’re talking hand holding, never ending eye contact, hugs, also this meg is SO annoyed that her mom makes her go rehearse, all she wants to do is stare at Christine for 5 more minutes mom plsssss

*coughcough* anyway, back to the canonical romance.

I would love to be able to describe Christine’s reaction when Erik’s « INSOLENT BOY—» blasts in but I think I was too busy literally melting at the sound of Ramin’s voice to pay attention sorry.

Because of the limited sets the mirror Erik appears through is actually the one of top of Christine’s vanity.

It is a little funny to see Christine lift her skirts to scale her vanity but I actually quite liked the effect it gave overall. The elevated mirror not only gave Erik a little more height which looks very ethereal and intimidating but it also made it look like he was a sort of portrait coming to life and breaking out of painting into reality… I’m not great at explaining these things but just trust me it looked very gothic and cool hehe.

Just noticed I didn’t talk about Raoul at all… Raoul existed, the end. (The actor was actually really good, I’m not at all trying to throw shade at the him I just could not care less about Raoul if my life depended on it.)

AAA I’ll continue this soon hopefully, I have tons more to say about the rest of the show :DDD

[cryptidofthekeys]

Ah

Well guess that gives me the incentive FHGDJKFJDK- so yeah I had a ‘lucid’ dream with the big man himself, the big fucking bastard-

Trigger Warning: A SLIGHT bit of gore

but uh yeah again, very iffy with the lucid term on this but uh- I’ll try to describe it the best way I can? Also gonna get a read more bc it’ll be a bit lengthy

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

So uh, to start off with I was in Boys n Grills- like near the back section of it essentially- I remember I was about to head out a doorway into the main like DINER area n shit- but before I could- Bob comes through the doorway and to give a better picture of this, it was v e r y much- like a irl kinda thing? like he didn’t look realistic, he still looked- like- uh...

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

2D? i-is that what ya call it? jhfkdldj either way, it was all the spooky month style essentially but I was like fully in it, looking around as myself cause usually my dreams have a camera pov- no this was all me looking around so first thing to note, we all know hes a big fella right? Yeah uh lemme just say, to say hes a big guy is kinda an under statement to me now

...His hand was probably bigger than my entire fucking face ngl

but either way- my point is-

This man is fucking HUGE, im a big person, not in height- oh god no lmao im 5′5″ but im a fat dude,, this man dwarfed me not only in height but weight too jfvdfksdds but he was taller than the fucking doorframe, he literally had to somewhat lean down to come through, it was like looking up at a skyscraper

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

...okay m-maybe that is a LITTLE bit of an over-exaggeration but my point is, man was fucking h u g e and dwarfed my ass in more ways than one- oh i forgot to mention hjfdkjdks he WAS in his devil costume- ya know, signature red turtleneck, face paint, horns, etc-

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

I can’t remember if he spoke or not, tbh i was,, actually pretty fucking terrified i remember that- he was grinning also like usual- he started advancing toward me and i just kinda,, started backing away- neither of us spoke or said anything- but eventually my back kinda hit a wall

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

and fucking hell he’s not only a huge dude he’s strong as HELL,, picked me up with one hand like I weighed NOTHING and slung me over his shoulder, I remember fighting, hitting at him, etc but i can’t remember if i said or anything or screamed or cried i feel like i might’ve??? but that detail’s blurry-

anywho-

oh yeah btw THE O N E AND O N L Y redeeming pro of this entire thing was that he was actually really soft and warm but other than that, he fucking reeked- he smelled of blood and death and i mean given he’s a cannibal ...fair enough-

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

He started carrying me to the back fuckin dead by daylight style- carrying me to the room with the meat hanging up (it smelled like raw meat obviously ...eugh the smelling part and the feeling parts were the most HORRENDOUS btw) and that’s when I realized something...

...He’s carrying me to a hook

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

I remember fighting even harder but that did nothin to this fuckin- slasher mfer- so i got carried to a hook and put up on it- like- it was on the right side of my back- before it could possibly get any worse though i shot up in my bed, grabbing at my back- bc keep in mind y’all, I could see, feel, smell, and hear things

meaning i could feel the EXTREME pain that was going through my back

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

after waking up and scanning my room in a fucking panic i realized ...oh,, just a dream, there wasnt a hole in my back either but ...it did still kinda get MUCH LESS bad pain but still phantom pain throughout the day

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

So in conclusion, I can tell y’all, meeting Bob in my ‘lucid’ dream if you can call it that-- was... While I am excited bout it now a day later hjfdkjdska bc holy fucking shit my first dream like tHAT- where i could feel, hear, etc things ya know? ...But man that shit hurted-

....Overall, 0/10 would not recommend meeting him tbh- It was incredibly terrifying to see him like I would see a person in an irl situation- meaning THAT close to me-

----------

oh also i did also write this in my first story with him so i guess y/n’s friend is giving me karma apparently via ‘lucid’ dream? lmao i mean i guess deserved

[kfanopinions]

Hendery A to Z (SFW)

okay so this is going to be more or less my personal opinion with a hint of astrology. hope you enjoy and remember take everything with a grain of salt ^^ also this was harder than i thought it'd be...sorry it took me forever to complete this lol

A = Affection

absolutely loves the affection or more like attention and will definitely pay it forward to his partner

B = Best friend

absolutely wonderful bestie who anyone can have a fun and wonderful time with

C = Cuddles

maybe a little bit of a cuddler from time to time when he needs that extra lovin

D = Domestic

i can see him helping out and making the home area look nice. whether he is efficient at it is another question XP

E = Ending

considering that his juno placement is in sagittarius he probably will have a good chunk of ex's...

F = Fiancé

with hendery's juno placement he can actually end up being engaged/marry someone who is a foreigner to him. however, this placement also has a hard time with long-term relationships...so it might take one hell of a person to tie this archer down ^^

G = Gentle

has his gentle moments of course ^^ look at him and his sis <333 (but i'd say he's more fun loving hehe)

H = Hugs

back hugs where his partners back and booty are pressed against him (this is his libra coming out, but his leo venus may like this too)

I = I love you

takes a while to say these words (if even with his sagittarius juno not doing so well in long-term relationships). his leo in venus would love to hear that his partner loves him but it will definitely have to be after a decent amount of time getting to know each other

J = Jealousy

his leo venus doesn't want to know about who was flirting with his partner at all. it's funny when he does it, but it can make him self-conscious if done to him. if his partner shows that they are jealous of people around him -> leo in venus -> takes this as affirmation-like aka he likes this

K = Kisses

noisy kisses but he'll also look his partner in the eyes before kissing them. tries his best to be satisfactory for them

L = Little ones

i can see him having fun with kids. almost like the funny guy that makes all the kids laugh

M = Morning

definitely has a morning routine that he likes to stick too

N = Night

having a chill night with some good food, drinks, and something to watch/listen too is probably ideal for him

O = Open

absolutely open to trying new things

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

i'd say he gets more annoyed and probably spouts out his frustrations as he walks away or something. i can't see him blowing up a lot but if he does there may be some hurtful words

Q = Quizzes

i see him as a little absent minded but he'll try to remember everything that he possibly can haha

R = Remember

his leo side likes to show off to whoever he is with. he'll talk about who showed interest in him/flirted. this is something to always remember - he's just being his show offy leo self ^^

S = Security

his taurus moon and leo venus make me think he might have jealous moments but overall i don't see him getting super jealous so i don't think he's going to be on high alert

T = Try

will try his best to be there as much as he can whether through a phone call, video call, text, or in person

U = Ugly

might say things without thinking that can be hurtful. it was meant as a joke but it can still hurt

V = Vanity

definitely is a lover of beautiful things and beautiful people as well as making sure he looks presentable

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

he would absolutely feel incomplete but with his sagittarius juno a little time away won't do too much harm xP

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

seeing you laugh and having a good time especially if he's the one making you laugh will bring him an immense amount of joy

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

someone who's a slob i cant see him with someone extremely messy

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

i get the vibe he'd sleep in the weirdest of positions lol like he'd wake up in a pretzel pose

[lightsinthesky]

Those Who Are Open Shall Receive

And that’s the problem.

I’m in a place I’ve never been before. For so many reasons. But specifically in terms of my feelings, my ability to endure things in sobriety, and having an understanding of self as I deal with all of this in a period of profound transformation…

The fact is, I’m completely closed off to even the possibility of someone or something new (yes, I’m talking about that thing again.) When my first love ended, I activated slut mode and dated around. I got zero fulfillment and dove deep into emotionally reckless behaviors that had been starting to manifest in my descent into real alcoholism. I was acting opposite my own values and principles and I cultivated exactly the results you’d expect: pure, endless misery and unmanageability. After my second love ended, I was at least open to something better. I pretty immediately adopted the mindset of “well, that didn’t work, so I wonder what else there is…” There was, of course, a back and forth in that relationship, but ultimately I went forward knowing that I wouldn’t “never love again…”

But right now? I am closed off to even the concept as a distant possibility. I’m not seeking to date, to fall in love again, to engage in anything at all, honestly. But the real struggle is that it’s all stemming from a newly formed insecurity that I won’t be open to it again, even when the “time comes.” A lot of fear has crept in in the wake of all of this and it stems from my wildly misplaced certainty that I’d found everything beyond what I could ever hope for. Again, the whole “being on step 9 in my first year of sustained recovery efforts” doesn’t much help…

“Time. T-I-M-E, Justin.” And I know, I know, I know. But this is my space to complain, so bear with me. One day, maybe future-me will look back on this and laugh or forget, but in the present moment, this is what occupies my woes.

I’ve embraced fully my program of recovery by the example set, the written words, and its practices and principles. There are some suggestions outside of that that I don’t put much stock into. One of them is “don’t date in the first year.” I never believed in that, but now I’m beginning to wonder if there’s a viable reason for that suggestion… I’m in the most vulnerable and emotionally raw state of my entire adulthood as I work these steps and self-actualize. Maybe that’s not the best time to risk this level of heartbreak… but I guess I never really believed in “timing,” either.

What’s funny is that in the aftermath, I actually do feel ready. Not in the sense that I in any way desire to seek it out (see above), but in the sense of “maybe now would’ve been a better time.” But that’s just a dangerous game of “should/could/would.” It’s just another version of “what if?” And that is an utterly, devastatingly useless game to play.

One reason I can’t kick myself over the whole timing element is that I wasn’t even in the headspace to receive it when it happened. I wasn’t open to it, let alone seeking it. Until magic met me with a beautiful smile. A lightning bolt straight to the heart. Emotional cardiac arrest. And I don’t regret it. If anything, it serves as evidence that, even when my brain isn’t open to the concept, my heart always knows.

“But you were wrong.”

No, I wasn’t. I loved the only way I know how: with everything I had. That is not my failing. I can’t dictate the outcome, but I’m left knowing how sincerely I loved and how profoundly it affected me and all that it meant to me. And I carry that confidence forward knowing that I am forever capable as much as I may doubt myself in times like these.

I think it comes down less to managing expectations versus maintaining awareness of all possibilities - even the ugly ones. Anything is possible, after all. And that’s true for disaster and success in equal measure.

But I suppose at the end of the day, I just need my heart to catch up to my brain with - you guessed it - time. Any kind of emotional negativity slows time to a crawl. And in total ecstasy, there isn’t even close to enough of it. It’s so strange to experience each and only have an understanding of the one you’re presently in. I wish I had that Billy Pilgrim ability to become unstuck in it… 

But I write this with an almost amused sense of observation and reflection. It’s the first day in weeks I can honestly say I’m just more emotionally tired than anything. The pain is lessening significantly (hey, look at you go, time!) and I’m just kind of doing my thing. I’m realizing just how boring that can be sometimes, but I guess that’s a pretty first world problem.

Either way, now that I’ve written another string of what was once incoherent thoughts in my head, I feel better. I know intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually that everything I seek is attainable. There is ample evidence of literally all of it surrounding me.

No timelines. Just the willingness, belief, and hope of it all.

Still standing, still moving…

[koushirouizumi]

{Met@} (on Daisuke & Taichi)

Taichi is someone who canonically treats people without discrimination.

Daisuke does his best to embody Taichi at the start (*in the way Daisuke believes what 'embodying Taichi' means), and even when he makes mis-steps (*in embodying Taichi), and even when he begins to drop doing so, regarding at least that fact, he's clearly still trying to do some of the same (not only start of) but by the end of the series...

... The fact my fan base still doesn't appear to understand this about either character continues to astound me to this day.

No, Daisuke would NOT "be scared of" or (endlessly) """hate""" someone who was a little different from him in the long run. (That includes the Adventure and post-Tri Chosen!!!)---

Daisuke would be accepting.

Daisuke would want to make sure they're SAFE.

Daisuke, because Daisuke was characterized as a character who eventually grew to learn compassion for others, too, would at least try to show COMPASSION even when he fails sometimes at it

He already did this WITH KEN!!! KEN, who DID do awful things (and no, I do not agree with wiping them under the rug, claiming Ken ~never~ chose to do anything by himself, ignoring the fact he literally stole the real-world term and used the German "Kaiser" as a NAME)

{Ken wasn't stupid. Ken KNOWS what that word Implied} (TOEI knew what that name Implied when they gave it to him)

Daisuke, POST-02, would not (in the long run) hate or be scared of someone for being D i s a b l e d, "looking funny", "acting funny" or "ODD" ("shifty" people can't be trusted, right??) or "different", "acting M E N T A L L Y I L L"... J E W I S H, A u t i s t i c, Q.ueer, or even slightly different from him.

The entire g-ddamn point of 02 was bringing ALL the Chosen of the world together by the end, regardless of ANY differences they had.

{My IMGs} {DO NOT re-post} {DO NOT Copy} (Please ASK to Use)

(Daisuke INCLUDED.)

And everyone in the world (if they even WANT to, might be what this "new movie" determines...) receives a partner

This is literally the entire SET-UP for "The Beginning"

That's so much more important to me a concept then declaring some chara (much less ANY main/lead of this franchise) would find another human being (and not, let's assume, possessed or controlled by some Digi or another) "inherently" """scary""" based on any sort of first impressions, minimal, in the long run, differences from them.

And there is a difference between assuming Daisuke might feel let down at times by his senpai (the Adventure Chosen), and (based on your own negative feelings about Tri) mis-characterizing him so he outright HATES them, would dismiss them, would "BLAME them" for even the events of Tri, would hold an eternal, endless grudge over their heads for events not even their fault, which the characters (even Takeru!) all canonically realize were never the Adventure Chosen's faults---

... I'm so over my fan base's internlized a b l e i s m and etc. bigotries.

I'm so over it but I'll never stop pointing out when internalized bigtories (on such "views of" "characterization") are literally just that: just internalized bigotries and bias that's projected onto these characters by Neuro-typical or otherwise not always even D I S A B L E D fans (or, even, Allistic fans, because what a lot of you don't realize is what's considered "different" or "odd" to you comes natural to many of us).

Before you talk to me about people/characters you consider "scary",

Take a moment and think about why you consider those people "scary" 'by default'.

And in the end, can you really say it's not overall the concepts of "D I S A B I L I T Y" and "M E N T A L I L L N E S S" existing that's truly what's "scaring" you about character "potential"s?

"{x} character would SO hate {x} chara for the rest of his li---" (When there's no canonical reason to believe they actually would),

No they wouldn't.

It's bias that you hold against those other characters (or character 'types') for them existing.

{Marked no rb because I don't want people rbng this, sorry}

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Unattainable | Yandere Ouran Host Club x Reader Ch. 4

Kyoya had noticed the constant scrunching of Haruhi's eyebrows. He could only assume that she was reacting because of them but it was unusual that it was happening so often. He didn't think this often but he was worried. The only thing that seemed to be holding her back was you. "YOU GUYS AREN'T SUPPOSED TO SIT WI--oh hi (Y/n), how are you?" He was grateful because he knew how much the club's spirit had been hinging on Haruhi's presence. You were more or less of a control valuable here and a connection to one of the biggest names in terms of consumerism and technology. "Uhm Kyoya-san?" He resisted the urge to jump at your presence; how did he not notice you? He was standing off to the side, in the shade near the pool.

"(Y/n), whatever do you need?" "I just wanted to know if you wanted to do something else." "What do you mean? I'm enjoying myself." "It doesn't look like it." You seemed to hone in on the glass store attached to the resort. "There." You pointed to it waiting until Kyoya bit the bullet and followed your finger. "There's a new collection that they want to sell.You're a smooth talker aren't you?" He got what you were trying to communicate and stood up to leave, before he left though he had to ask . "What do I get?" "…" "Do I get anything if I do this?" He expected something probably a treat, or something childish. But you just shrugged before Haruhi beckoned you to come back to the pool. You skip away leaving the vice-president to look absolutely bewildered but he still turned and went into the jewelry shop.

He was intrigued.

"MOMMY!!! HARUHI LOCKED ME IN THE BATHROOM!" "Well you're free now so stop whining." He caught you looking curiously at him from across the plane. He waited until Haruhi who was avidly sticking to your side had left to look at something the twins had called her over for him to sit in her place. "(Y/n)-san did you have something you'd like to ask me?" You wouldn't look him in his eyes, playing with your hands as you moved your mouth to answer. "W-why did he call you Mommy?" He chuckled and smirked, you were quite cute. "It's his title for me. A call back to my position as the vice president." "Oh! Okay." You looked pleased with yourself as though to praise yourself for asking in the first place. Stopped by another look of realization that made you eagerly turned to him. "Does everyone get titles like that? If their in a club?" You were so amusing. He nodded, " A club isn't necessary to receive one." I wonder. He tested the waters with a reach for your hair, twirling a strand as he deviously continued. "I'll give you one right now. How about…" He had to think what role did you think in their metaphorical family. "Baby. You're the baby." A sparkle shone in your eyes and a nervous smile spread on your previously stone-face. "Okay Mommy!" You were hardly speaking at a typical volume but lower than your typical volume. That somehow seem to tickle his ears more than the actual words that came out of your mouth. He was looking away, blushing as he tried to regain his composure. You followed his action looking at something ahead. He had to confirm this feeling. But when he turned to test his theory Haruhi and Honey were smiling maliciously at the two of you. "(N/n)-chan you have to try this cake I found!" Occupying you're right, standing in the aisle, he leaned over the arm rest to shove a spoonful of this cake into your mouth. Distracting you from Haruhi and Kyoya. "A-H-E-M, you're in my seat." Kyoya shot a glare at her but she held her ground; he conceded, excusing himself to his seat, rows away from you and your guard dogs. He couldn't deny that he'd be willing to stick it out if he was entirely sure. He couldn't wait to meet Serigaki-san and to confirm this feeling of his.

←Last Part | Next Part→

[uramichislefttiddie]

Life Lessons With Uramichi Oniisan Alphabet

||Contains: Uramichi Omota + Iketeru Daga||

||Warnings: NSFW||

Reminder! Please don’t comment anything that implies your age, I cannot stop who reads this unfortunately but I can at the very least give out a warning that this contains nsfw content.⚠️

please forgive me I could not stop laughing whilst writing this, I had to skip specific words because it did not sound right to me and my childish behaviour😭

Uramichi Omota:

A: Aftercare (how they treat you afterwards)

If anything all this man will want to do is try and get a good nights rest even if it means only a couple hours of sleep. He will make sure however you are cleaned up and are alright before he deals with himself. He’d never leave you to care for yourself, he always makes sure he cares for you first. He’s very touch starved meaning he makes sure he gets cuddles and kisses before you both drift off into a slumber!

B: Body (his fav part of his body and yours)

His favourite body part on himself most likely would be his muscles specifically his toned arms, I mean he’s a former gymnast so what can you expect? On you his favourite part would be either ass or thighs, the reason mainly being it’s something he can rest on, or another reason being he loves to mark your thighs up not caring if anyone can see, also he just genuinely likes groping your ass however he’ll only do that in privacy, he’d rather not have the risk of someone having just witnessed him groping your ass in public. In make out sessions always expect his hands to be roaming either along your thighs or ass there’s no other option it could be.

C: Cum (well I’m pretty sure you can gather what I mean)

Majority of the time he will make sure to not cum inside you meaning hell either do it over your face or body, however once in awhile if you allow him he will not pass up the opportunity to cum inside you. When I say once in awhile, Uramichi will try and make it near enough every time that you allow him to cum inside, he just loves the idea of having the risk you could end up with having his children. (Russian roulette type beat/j) and a plus to him is that if he can cum in you it means less cleaning to do.

D: Dirty Secret (a secret of theirs that they haven’t told)

Now I get a strong sense that this man really wants to try bondage with ropes especially, wether it be you that’s tied up or him he doesn’t care either way he really wants to try it. But he doesn’t want to scare you off by asking so he still hasn’t mentioned it and he doesn’t want you to start making fun off him about it💀 however you’ve had an inkling for awhile that he’s got something about being tied up.

E: Experiance (Do they know what they’re doing?)

Now he may be 31 years of age but this man has never gone past kissing someone before he met you. You were his first and oh boy he had no clue what he was doing, mainly because he was nervous and couldn’t comprehend what was truly happening. He has watched his fair share of porn etc but when it came down to actually doing it himself he mind had become fog. Overtime though he’s come to learn what you like best and least and has took that into account and now it’s as if he’s been doing it for years.

F: Favourite Position (which he prefers to do)

Now he’ll most likely switch between a mating press or doggy style. The reasoning for mating press is it allows him to be more face to face to you and he can see your face during it which turns him on even more. And let’s be real he more than likely has a breeding kink. So mating press + breeding kink = heaven to him. Now the reason for doggy style is because he loves having your bare ass slam against him and watching it jiggle when he slaps it. He also loves leaving marks on your hips meaning doggy style makes that all the easier.

G: Goofy (do they laugh or are they the serious type)

Uramichi is probably the type of be serious, he might laugh there and than every so often if something a bit funny happens but overall he’s pretty much serious and that’s just him.

H: Hairy (shave? Unshaven?)

Unshaven, however he will trim it if you ask him to, but seeing as he’s 31 I think he couldn’t care less about body hair as it’s normal and he just sees it as a waste of time to have to repeatedly shave.

I: Intamicy (how they’re like in bed)

80% of the time he will be rough, releasing out all the pent up anger and frustration, but he still makes sure your ok. Although there will be them days where he just wants to be more romantic than rough and his whole demeanour will have flipped upside down and he’ll be acting all lovey dovey. Plus most definitely a switch.

J: Jack Off (Do they? Or not?)

Nah, not really, if he’s in that type of mood and your not with him he’ll either wait or come meet you wherever you are so he can get relief.

K: Kink (What kinks they have)

Gagging, Breeding, Bondage, Dacryphilia, cockwarming

L: Length (how big they are)

He’s more girthy than long, he’s probably about 6 inches which is a good length all in all.

M: Motivation (what gets them going)

When you start whining at him for attention or if you raise your voice at him because oh boy that really does set off something in him when you raise your voice.

N: No (something they will not do)

Knife play or anything that could seriously harm you even by accidental.

O: Oral (which they prefer)

He prefers giving than receiving but once in awhile he’d just want you to be the one giving it to him and making him fall under your touch.

P: Pace (how fast they go)

He’s not necessarily fast but rather hard. By that I mean he will go full force into you where both yours skins slap against each other and where he will grunt a lot which oh boy is hot.

Q: Quicke (do they do them?)

Surprisingly he does them a lot seeing as he has work 6 days a week which really only leaves him with one day where it can just be you and him all day. So either he’ll do one in the morning or at night but it depends if he’s feeling too tired after work.

R: Risk (are they one for taking a risk?)

Now he’ll hate someone interrupting so he always makes sure you both do it where the chances of getting interrupted are reduced drastically, plus it’d be very embarrassing for someone to walk in. Usahara now always make sure to knock before making his grand entrance into his apartment. The risk of you getting pregnant kinda excites him in a way so you gotta watch out with this man.

S: Stamina (how many rounds can they go for)

On an average he can last around 2-3 rounds but on a very good day it feels like it’s never ending, he just needs that motivation if you get me.

T: Toys (do they use them)

No. He’s never really been into them and they’ve never sparked his interest.

U: Unfair (are they fair)

He’s quite fair to be honest, he makes sure you both equally get what you both want but there can be times he can be a tease when he’s in one of them type of moods.

V: Volume (how loud they are)

Majority of the time he lets out grunts rather than moans, he gets embarrassed if he moans however after the time you told him you like it when does he doesn’t hold back anymore but like I said most of the time he grunts and breathes heavily.

X: X-ray (what they’re like under there)

Like I said, more girthy than long.

Y: Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

It’s shockingly quite high, although it may not show when he’s near you expect him to be quite touchy most of the time waiting for you to get the signal. In simple terms he’s quite the horn dog.

Z: Zzz (how fast they go to sleep afterwards)

I’ll say it straight. He goes to sleep incredibly fast, but he won’t before he makes sure your cleaned up and settled down!

Iketeru Daga

A: Aftercare (how they treat you afterwards)

This boy will give you the best aftercare ever. You hungry? Ok he’ll go make something for you. You want to go for a drive? Ok he’ll take you for a drive. You want a shower/bath? Ok he’ll go prepare you one. You understand me now. He will double check your ok and cleaned up as best as possible. Will always make sure you’ve gone to the toilet afterwards and have had some water. Will fall asleep with you in his arms always whilst reading to you.

B: Body (his fav part of his body and yours)

His favourite part of his body will be his hands, not only because they’re pleasing to the eye but because he knows his long fingers can make you come undone very quickly and easily and that gives him somewhat of a boost. His favourite part of your body to him will be your lips, he loves the feeling of them when he kisses you or when your kissing him anywhere (😏 /j)

C: Cum (well I’m pretty sure you can gather what I mean)

He loves seeing his cum dripping down your face, the way it leaves a shine along your face just looks so pretty to him. So he prefers to cum over your face or in your mouth to where he can see it dripping down yourself. Don’t get me wrong he’d love to cum in you but he’s responsible and would rather wait until you both want a child so he doesn’t need to worry about getting you pregnant.

D: Dirty Secret (a secret of theirs that they haven’t told)

He likes to be choked. Awhile back you had no clue until you accidentally did and that’s when the game got even more interesting. He really just overall loves seeing you in charge.

E: Experiance (Do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s had a few girlfriends in the past but never gone as far as to do more than make out with them, he’s always said he’d save it for the when the right person comes along and he knows it the right person. But he very much does know what he’s doing, he knows how to make you feel good, he’s done plenty of research.

F: Favourite Position (which he prefers to do)

Reverse cowgirl. He absolutely loves you riding him and if it means reverse cowgirl it allows him to smack your ass and fondle it, also allows him to easily guide you with your hips. Damn he goes berserk when your in this position I tell you.

G: Goofy (do they laugh or are they the serious type)

Do I even need to say? Of course he’s going to be goofy, the man laughs at dick jokes. However once he starts laughing that’s it, he won’t be able to stop for awhile, it’s honestly become uncontrollable.

H: Hairy (shave? Unshaven?)

Honestly, he leaves it down to you and what you prefer, he doesn’t mind if you prefer shaven or not either way he’ll go with what you like.

I: Intamicy (how they’re like in bed)

Probably the slow but long stroke type of guy. He loves the way you start to become impatient and fidgety. He loves the look in your eyes when he’s facing you.

J: Jack Off (Do they? Or not?)

He only will if he hasn’t seen you for a few days or hasn’t been able to do anything with you. He prefers doing it with you actually.

K: Kink (What kinks they have)

Choking, Food Play, Cockwarming, Spit, Praise

L: Length (how big they are)

Longer than girthy, he reaches about 7.5 inches, he can definitely reach the high spots.

M: Motivation (what gets them going)

When you start to praise him, especially with “good boy” that will get him going almost immediately, it just switches something on in his mind so very quickly.

N: No (something they will not do)

He’s willing to try most things as long as you feel safe and he feels safe and you both know to be careful and know how far to go with everything.

O: Oral (which they prefer)

He prefers receiving than giving, he just loves being able to watch you go down on him and struggle. But when you want some he will be more than happy to give.

P: Pace (how fast they go)

Life I previously said, he’s the type of guy that goes slow but he makes sure he’s hitting all the right spots that you like and that gets you going.

Q: Quicke (do they do them?)

He prefers to not have them but if it comes down to it and you really want one he will do so, but don’t expect it to become a regular thing.

R: Risk (are they one for taking a risk?)

Oh he’s scarred many peoples eyes and mind because he simply “forgot” to lock the door and close the curtains/blinds. Poor Uramichi as if he hadn’t enough going on. He doesn’t really want to risk getting you pregnant though, so he will use a condom.

S: Stamina (how many rounds can they go for)

He can go for a straight 3 or more rounds, it normally stops when it’s you that can’t take anymore not the other way round, he always waits until you’ve had your pleasure before he’ll stop.

T: Toys (do they use them)

Now he’d never admit it, but before you two started being sexual he had quite the few toys. He most likely had a flashlight, tenga egg and a cock ring for example. Them type of ones.

U: Unfair (are they fair)

He’s the fairest of them all, he’d make sure your getting what you need and than sort himself out, he’s never once been unfair to you.

V: Volume (how loud they are)

Now…this mans a full on moaner and he has no shame about it. He honestly has that type of pretty moan too, where he whimpers at the same time and he will not look away either. Oh and if your the one sucking him off, be prepared because he can’t hold back at all, it’s honestly like heaven to him.

X: X-ray (what they’re like under there)

As already said he’s quite long compared to others, he reaches about 7.5 inches.

Y: Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

Probably around average but if you get him going well-

Z: Zzz (how fast they go to sleep afterwards)

Will not go to sleep no matter what before you, it always has to be you that falls asleep first before he can fall into a slumber. He always wants to know your safe. And plus if you’ve fallen asleep he will clean you up if you haven’t already, and will leave some water and paracetamol next to you for when you wake up and if he leaves before you in the morning or wakes up before you he’ll always leave a little note next to you too.

[parvulous-writings]

Karl Heisenberg // SFW alphabet

Request: So there was no actual request, I just knew this would cheer up my closest friend. 

Dedicated to: @rey-is-not-a-skywalker

Summary: A sfw A-Z for Karl Heisenberg, from Resident Evil Village!

Warnings: Explicit language

Notes: Please, have some Soft!Heisenberg, bor. It’s one of the many, many things you deserve.  To those who have requested oneshots- I am working on them, please be patient! My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif

A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) 

He’s never affectionate publicly. Behind closed doors, though- well maybe he’s not your stereotypical lovey-dovey type, but hey-ho, he shows it in his own little way. A few hugs, but mostly through making you things. Music boxes, little figures and robots that wind up, you name it, he’ll try and make it. 

B - Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? Where does the friendship start?)

He’s not a friendly man, typically. He’s cold, and driven only by his motives. It takes a long time for him to warm up to you, but when he eventually does he is always by your side, whenever you should need him. Be it for violence, or for an ear to pour your thoughts into- even though half the time you swear he’s not listening completely. 

C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Heisenberg likes warm cuddles above all others. The kind where he can pull you close and hold you there for a while- he likes feeling you against his chest. It’s comforting to him, after years of no affection and a torturous living experience. 

D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking, cleaning, ect?)

Karl is not particularly skilled in any domestic skill. He’s very mediocre at cooking, and he can’t clean to save his life- his factory is littered with dust and other probably very harmful particles. He isn’t very good in a domestic environment at all, really. 

E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Blunter than a broken pencil I’m afraid. He’s never had to hide something from you in the past, so why should this be any different? He would not want to beat around the bush here, he’d annoy himself with pleasantries and euphemisms. 

F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Do they wanna get married?)

He’s perfectly fine staying as partners, without marriage looming over the pair of you. Quite frankly, he doesn’t think it’s worth it.  “A piece of damn paper to show someone your fucking devotion? Bullshit.” 

G - Gentle (How gentle are they both physically and emotionally?)

Unless you’re shaking like a leaf or have specifically asked him to be gentle with or around you, he’s not going to be. He’ll treat you much how he treats most others- with a little bit of affection for zest and flavour every now and then. 

H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it, and what are they like?)

While he likes cuddles, he isn’t a huge fan of hugs. He thinks they’re too short to show any real affection, and often get in the way of whatever task the recipient is trying to perform.  

I - I Love You (How fast do they say the “love” word?)

S l o w l y. This man has gone through some stuff, and doesn’t want to get attached to people despite falling for you. Give him a chance. 

J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What are they like when jealous?)

Okay so he may be “non-committal” in a loose sense of the term, but this man is one jealous motherfucker. And he gets angry. I’m talking  punching the wall, lashing out and breaking shit kind of angry. It’s mostly because of a nagging fear that not only will he lose you to someone you think is better or less monstrous than he is, but also in part due to a feeling that because of what he was forced to become, he isn’t good enough to keep you for himself. 

K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

He kisses you on your hands or neck mostly. Those are his favourite places to kiss you. He occasionally kisses you on the inside of your wrist. If you have any scars as well, he’ll kiss them. 

L - Little Ones (How are they around kids?)

It depends. Sometimes he’s the perfect uncle figure, others he’s a whirlwind of rage. If you’re taking him to see some children for a prolonged amount of time, please check how he’s acting and feeling on the day so there isn’t some sort of horrific accident. 

M - Morning (What are mornings like with them?)

There’s nothing special about them, he’s usually up long before you are. He doesn’t leave anything like a hot beverage behind, unless it’s a special occasion that he’s remembered- like a birthday or anniversary. 

N - Nights (How are nights spent with them?)

He often tells you to go to bed before him, as he’s usually working on something, and would rather not have to worry about you being down in his factory and workshop. 

O - Open (When do they open up about themselves?)

When he’s extremely angry. He gets riled up, then will start to spill facts and secrets while hardly even realising it. 

P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has a very short fuse and a violent temper, to say the least. There’s a reason the man swears so much. Though he will often apologise if he’s scared you after an outburst. 

Q - Quizzes (How much do they remember about you?)

He remembers the basic things at the very least- Your name, your habits on eating and drinking, what you do to amuse yourself. He’s quite observant, actually. 

R - Remember (Favorite memory with you?)

He made you a small music box once. The past part of his day, or his entire week, was seeing your smile as you opened it and listened to it for the first time. It was the widest he’d ever seen you smile, and he loved the feeling it gave him. 

S - Security (How protective are they?)

Very. One particular other Lord- “Lady Super-Sized Bitch,” as Heisenberg has dubbed her- is very interested in your presence, and Heisenberg has made it very much his business to keep you practically under lock and key to keep you safe. And when Ethan Winters comes around? Ooh, boy. You ain’t leaving his sight. 

T - Try (How much effort do they put in?)

He does try- through making trinkets and gadgets to both help you and show his affection. Sometimes it may not always seem that way though, with his outbursts and his tantrums. 

U - Ugly (What are their bad habits?)

He smokes. You tried to get him to quit once, then stopped when you realised it made him more irritable. 

V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He’s not that concerned. If he’s still kicking... Well that’s all that matters to him. 

W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He’d feel that something’s wrong, something’s not right- a cog missing from a machine, in a sense. And he hates that feeling. 

X - Xtra (Random HC)

This man would die for some ice-cream. You bring him a tub of the stuff- BAM, instant good mood for the next like two days. 

Y - Yuck (Things they don’t like either in general or a partner?)

This man is not fussy, in the slightest. 

Z - Zzz (Sleep habits)

He basically doesn’t, he gets so little it’s a wonder he can actually function normally. 

[abduct-me-helen]

r/legaladvice

Posted by u/ebouchard 2 months ago

My husband has embarrassed me at the annual institute holiday party for the last time. I want another divorce.

My husband, soon to be ex-husband if all goes as planned, was leering at an archival assistant the other day. He also had a bit too much to drink, and started talking about various…personal activities that I would’ve preferred be undisclosed. Now, I’ve divorced him before, but this time he seems fit to antagonize me and not sign the papers. Not just that, but he’s also disappeared, which isn’t uncommon but is still frustrating when I’m trying to divorce him. He always gets in a hissy fit when I divorce him, but this time he’s just being petty.

Is there a way to divorce him without needing to track him down in order to have him sign the papers? He’s the captain of a ship and when he gets…petulant, he often sails for a few months before returning to his moorhouse. During these times, it’s notoriously hard to contact him, much less find him.

tl;dr: my husband ran away in an attempt to be petty and now I can’t divorce him. What do I do?

Edit: Please stop making remarks on the healthiness of our relationship. It’s none of your business, and we are perfectly fine.

Edit: We got divorced again since I made the first post.

Edit: We are now remarried again.

 crawbed008 3.1k points · 2 weeks ago

    | He always gets in a hissy fit when I divorce him, but this time he’s just being petty.

wait, what do you mean by “always”??

     ebouchard 1.5k points · 2 weeks ago

             whenever I try to divorce him, he acts petulant.

                  sisenore_k 675 points · 2 weeks ago

                          do you divorce him often lmao???

                                    ebouchard 1.2k points · 2 weeks ago

                                        yes.

                          [expand]

getsome_69 352 points · 1 week ago

            op how many times have you two gotten divorced so far

                 ebouchard 2.1k points · 2 weeks ago

                       six, though there were a few we didn’t go through on legally.

                              kokobura2 126 points · 2 weeks ago

                                        SIX??? good god op why do you even keep remarrying

                                              ebouchard 1.5k points · 2 weeks ago

                                                      money.

                                           stonks 782 points · 2 weeks ago

i know op in rl and the real reason is that they’re the    

only people willing to put up with each other

                                                                                   [expand]

r/relationship_advice

Posted by u/bigboyman 1 month ago

I (48M) feel like my husband is very clingy and I’m a person who needs solitude to survive. What should I do?

My husband is always talking to me. I just want to be left alone, but he just keeps on scheming. He’s always ranting about hiding tapes and the watcher’s crown and it is getting tedious having to listen to his, well, words in general.

How should I ask for more space?

 poorandtiredbutyolo 2.2k points · 2 weeks ago

I have a clingy partner too, and what I do is set clear boundaries. I also make sure to set time towards my partner outside of those times when I’m alone, like having dinner every night and having movie/games night once a week.

      bigboyman 1.5k points · 2 weeks ago

           I interact with him far less already then I would if I did that.

                   asunachan3 203 points · 2 weeks ago

                        how much do you talk to him?                                   

                                     bigboyman 1.5k points · 2 weeks ago

                                               at least once every three months

asunachan3 203 points · 2 weeks ago

                                                                   and you’re MARRIED?!???

                                                                            bigboyman 1.2k points · 2 weeks ago

I know, it’s a lot. You see why I can’t stand him being so clingy?

[expand]

 tania9 421 points · 2 weeks ago

    from reading the replies, I can only assume you hate your husband.

                bigboyman 1k points · 2 weeks ago

                                despise, actually.

 [expand]

Pastasauceandspagett 608 points · 1 month ago

      I don’t know how OP could possibly salvage this relationship if they hate each other and only talk every three months.

bigboyman 4.2k points · 1 week ago

                                The wedding is in four days.

 Allicecarter2002 4.2k points · 1 week ago

                               I thought you were already married??

                                                                      bigboyman 4.2k points · 1 week ago

oh, we got divorced about a week after I made the post and then he proposed again a week after that.

                                                                                                 [expand]

 r/pettyrevenge

Posted by u/notjonnydville 3 weeks ago

I had my archival assistants spit in his tea.

My boss is a huge bastard. He is just, awful. He always looks like you’re amusing him but in that kind of way where he’s looking like you like a meal. He is just a horrible human being. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he killed someone. That’s the kind of person he is.

Anyway, I usually try to keep a professional relationship with my assistants but a few nights ago they invited me to go out for drinks with them and my friend blackmailed me into it. We got hammered. It was a truly…special experience. Ever since then, I’ve been on better terms with them. We even have a groupchat.

The situation goes like this: he’s been ranting to me for the last hour about things I ALREADY KNOW in that pompous, annoying voice of his. Anyway, I texted one of my assistants, I’ll call him M, and M comes in mid rant. I very sternly ask “why haven’t you made [our boss’s name, I’ll refer to him as E] tea yet?”

I kind of put him on the spot and he just stayed there with his jaw dropped. I told him to go make E a cup of tea, so he scurries out.

I wait about 30 seconds and then discretely text the groupchat: “spit in his tea M.”

Anyway, they go absolutely *ballistic* and T, another one of my assistants, sprints halfway across the building (I hear he even knocked into our secretary), just to spit in E’s tea too. My last assistant is a bit wearier but she does it too.

M comes back with the tea and hands it to E before quickly leaving. A few minutes pass and E still hasn’t touched his tea.

So I remind him that M makes very good tea and he’d be disappointed if E didn’t drink it.

There is a quiet battle of wills.

Now, I don’t know how to put this without sounding insane, but our boss…he just *knows* things. He’s psychic, or something like that. There is absolutely NO way he didn’t know the tea was messed with. He knows, he knows I know, and we silently stare at each other without moving.

Finally, *finally*, still making direct eye contact with me, he takes a sip of his tea and purses his lips. I ask him if he isn’t thirsty.

He says he isn’t, and leaves the room. I never did find out what happened to that tea.

tl;dr: I got my archival assistants to spit in my asshole bosses’ tea. It was glorious.

leavemealone 2k points · 2 weeks ago

    holy *shit*, OP, did you ever get in trouble????

           notjonnydville 2.1k points · 2 weeks ago

                   he didn’t have any evidence, so no.

maya_herse331 782 points · 1 week

    did he ever try to get revenge?

           notjonnydville 7.1k points · 2 weeks ago

                   he framed me for murder, but I’m still not sure if that was directly related.

                  [expand]

[apparentlyaswarmofbees]

Can I have headcanons for the brothers with an Mc who switches languages whenever they’re angry or arguing with someone?

I live in a Asian-Hispanic household and the amount of times I’ve switched languages whenever I’m arguing with my family is uncountable.

I am im this ask and I don't like it lololololol

I am fluent in two lenguages and know many words of other lenguages, my communication is a MESS, I am speaking portuguese but then suddenly english comes out and I say sorry for that in korean, then because my brother likes to tease me with japanese terms I end up answering it back in japanese, it's m e s s y.

I'll make this into...

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Switching Leguages As a Bi/Multilingual ft. The Seven Demon Brothers

Warning: Uncensored Swearing

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Lucifer

That shitty smile of his, those disgusting eyebrows that raise up as he pointedly looks at you, his entire fucking existence as he teases you for fubbling one word in your sentence with another lenguage.

It's not easy knowing more than one lenguage, you're basically a newborn who just learned to talk sometimes and Lucifer is having a great fucking time with it.

Thankfully when he has better things to do than help you dig your own grave, he let's any fubbling go unnoticed, specially if you're arguing, at those moments he may, in fact, switch lenguages entirely to match yours, which would be a pretty amusing sight if not for the fact that the two of you arguing is one of the most scary things to ever witness in life-

Speak in another lenguage while he's tired and you will make him purposefully say things like 'stop fooling around' in the same lenguage, it's pretty adorable 🤭

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Mammon

He knows quite a few lenguages himself (it's usefull for scammig people) so yes he is going to tease you about it.

And then he will proceed to fubble his own words with another lenguage right after.

Seriously have pity on this man because everytime you speak one single word in another lenguage that he also knows his brain will automatically change into that lenguage and now he has no idea what the fuck he's even trying to say.

He finds it adorable if you become a lenguage switching mess when happy or excited, but you bet he's terrified out of his damn life if you do so when angry, like seriously, he is very close to shitting his pants.

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Leviathan

Hoh boy he had so many mixed feelings the first time you spoke in another lenguage, his brain immediatelly shut down and he refused to accept that you could speak in a lenguage he did not understand and it was so cool he was so jealous and terrified out of his mind that if you got any cooler than this you would definetelly leave him at some point because compared to you he was less than nothing-

He secretly tries learning said lenguage so he could understand some of your mumbles, the curses under your breath and the fubbles here and there with certain words.

You know when a kid is learning new words at school and they come home and say said word to their parents or to someone else like 'I learned how to say this!' with so much pride and confidence? That's Levi to you at any given oportunity.

Also terrified when you switch lenguages while angry.

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Satan

He will outlenguage you.

You know when you are trying to remember one word in a lenguage but you can only remember it in another lenguage so you end up saying it in that another lenguage and people around you look at you weirdly? Well, with Satan that doesn't last for long because now he is speaking in that lenguage and he uses such an unnecessary ammount of ☆°.•fancy•.°☆ words that you can't understand shit that he's saying even though you are most likelly fluent in said lenguage.

I can't blame you if you choose to kick him where the sun doesn't shine because although I know how much it hurts he kind of was asking for it-

And oh b o y anyone would rather be dead than deal with both you and Satan arguing in another lenguage.

Expect to hear Satan say 'meow' in like, 100 different lenguages at some point.

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Asmodeus

Okay but if there is one thing that is hot as fuck is Asmo dirty talking in different lenguages, he sure has one hell of a flexible tongue.

Now that that is out there, of course he gets excited to hear you switch lenguages, and of course he will start speaking some unholy things in said lenguage most likelly right into your ear when you least expect it like the first thing he tells you in the morning at the table while you're eating breakfast.

And sometimes it's not even just to you, sometimes he will just say it out loud and everyone is suddenly choking.

Don't expect him to be anything other than extremelly attracted to you the moment you switch lenguages while angry unless it's actually something serious.

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Beelzebub

You have gained +10 points of respect from Beelzebub

This man is a big baby but his twin is Belphegor so you can't seriously expect him to not be at least a bit of a tease, so he will definetelly be amused by your lenguage rollercoaster and he will definetelly point them out from time to time.

You could say there is no way you would get angry at this baby but he definetelly needs some scolding sometimes and he will be absolutelly unsettled by any lenguage switch you do while at it.

Yes you guys will manage to spend at least a full minute saying the same word to each other in another lenguage because neither of you are really sure what is the correct pronunciation

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Belphegor

Speak one word in another lenguage on accident while around this cow and it will be your nickname for the rest of the week.

The more words you switch within said week the longer and the more bizarre the nickname becomes as he puts all said words together into a single one. He even mimics your accent.

He's definetelly too lazy to keep up with your rambling in a whole different lenguage while angry, and though he understands and pays attention he would definetelly rather not have to deal with switching lenguages.

Also you know those very offensive swear words every lenguage has? He definetelly uses them on Lucifer.

[whaleofatjme1920]

Dealing With People Who Don't Care (Ticci Toby X F!Reader)

Dealing With People Who Don't Care

[Ticci Toby X F!Reader]

[Warnings: slight language and calls to violence? Bullying, slight yandere behavior]

[AN: Requested from ѕρσσку яανισlι on Quotev! Idk if I'm ready to tell y'all that this was basically my first quarter of college.]

College wasn’t supposed to be like this, at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. When you graduated from high school, you were told that petty drama and catty people were going to fade away because that was high school and this is college. Something new, something for young adults, and something you’d been looking forward to for far, far too long.

Truth be told, in high school, you didn’t really have any problems. You mostly got along with the people you did talk to and aside from a few arcs which you lovingly call ‘character development’, you generally kept your head down and to yourself which allowed you to stay off some of the cruller people’s radars. You were liked when it was necessary but ultimately stuck to yourself.

How did it all go so wrong?

When you first came in on orientation day, you’d met up with a group of girls and bonded on the train ride back to campus. There was a group chat made and you were a ready part of it. You felt nicely about your entire situation because these were nice girls, and they treated you like you held the sun and rose the moon. Is that what positive friendship was like?

For the first few weeks, everything with them was a bliss. Unfortunately, you were the only person from that group in your specific branch and major. This meant that you often spent most of your daylight hours alone or with yourself entirely. The other girls all had majors that were almost word for word the same, and that meant that they spent a lot of time together. Slowly, that had been growing closer and closer to each other and leaving you out.

It came in small doses at first, and you had chalked it up to your nature being so different from theirs. They were much more extroverted than you ever could have been. They were fire, and you were ice. But that did not mean that you were boring, or any less interesting, you were just quieter, preferring to take this just as softly. Wandering around the city with maybe one or two people, talking about the things that matter as opposed to getting wasted in a crowded apartment with fifty people who don’t even care about your wellbeing.

That’s what was different about you than them.

“Hey ladies,” you smile widely as you take your tray of food from the cafeteria to the table where all the girls sat. You notice that they’re all engrossed in conversation but quickly turn to greet you with smiles and waves.

“Hi, Reader! How has your day been?” Maria greets, her fingers gently tugging through her blonde hair. “Me and Georgina were just talking about you.”

Georgina nods and pats the seat next to her for you to sit down. “Yeah, what have you been up to?”

You take a seat next to the redhead and sip from your drink. “It was alright. With midterms coming up though… Little stressed,” you admit as the two girls sitting around you frown in response. “Lots of essays, some minor discussion posts, a group project but we’re just starting it early because it counts for like, 20 percent of our grade and is part of our final,” you say as you stab into your food.

“Oh? A group project?” Georgina asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

You nod. “It’s actually more like a partner project. I’m paired with this guy named Toby? But like, I haven’t seen him yet - he doesn’t show up to class,” you sigh.

“Maybe try emailing the professor,” Maria suggests. “But I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” she hums with a small smile, her hand reaching over and gripping yours warmly.

From there, the conversation that follows has you drifting away. By now, a third girl has joined the conversation and her name is Helena. Helena is also in the same class as you with the group project, but she isn’t as close to you as Georgina and Maria are. She greets you just as warmly but she turns the conversation in a direction you weren’t expecting.

Laughter rings out from the table.

“And that guy from last night?” Georgina giggles.

“He was insane!” Maria adds. “You have to come inside!” She mockingly says before bursting into another fit of giggles.

“And he dressed so weirdly,” Helena continues. “Ratty as all hell jacket and then followed us into the theatre? Asked to show us magic tricks-” she’s not even able to finish her words because she’s laughing much too hard.

You tilt your head slightly. “What happened last night?” You ask.

The girls pause for a moment. “Don’t worry about it,” Georgina says as she swats off your question. “You weren’t there.”

“This was last night?” You ask again.

They nod.

“Yeah, wasn’t anything special,” Maria attempts to shrug off before those three continue with their conversation and inside jokes.

You eat in silence, every now and then smiling and offering forced laughter as you think about what you did last night. You weren’t doing anything, in fact, your roommate went out on a date with her boyfriend and left you in the dorm all along. So, you finished your work a little early and started on some other things, then watched Netflix and fell asleep before midnight. You were free the entire night.

And they didn’t even think to invite you.

From there, you started to notice all the times they forgot about you and excluded you. It carried on in the sloughed off invites, the ‘sorry we can’t meet up for dinner,’ and generally just avoiding you. They had jokes they couldn’t share with you, and you were at their side, they acted like you weren’t even there until it faded into nothing.

Reader: Are you guys doing anything tonight?

Maria is typing…

Maria: no not tonight :(

Reader: oh okay! But if any of you want to come to Target with me or something..? Maria: sorry, I’m busy!

Georgina is typing…

Helena is typing…

After that, they’d left you on read, not even bothering to answer you. Later that night on snapchat, you saw the three of them wandering the city without you, laughing and having a good time.

Instead of talking to them right away, you focused on your classes and your work. And that meant finally tagging down toby.

You’d managed to finally get him in your sight after emailing your professor who struck some type of fear into him. You were able to meet him face to face at a little cafe somewhere off campus.

“Over h-here,” he calls out from near the window of the cafe, waving you towards the back.

You flash him a quick smile and let it fall before finally taking a seat across from him. You’re slightly surprised to see that there’s a cup of hot chocolate and a chocolate chip muffin is there waiting for you. “Oh, uh, thank you,” you say as you get comfortable.

“It’s n-nothing,” he says with a small smile. “I-I’m sorry for k-keeping you w-w-waiting all t-this time,” he continues in an apologetic tone. “T-Things with my f-family aren’t e-easy right n-now.”

Not wanting to push him, you nod and smile reassuringly. “It’s okay,” you relent. “So, this project..?”

“It’ll b-be a breeze,” he replies. “D-Don’t worry about i-it, yeah?” He picks up his own cup of hot chocolate to fight off the child of mid autumn and nods to you, his dark eyes scanning over your form. “I w-wanna know j-just who I’m w-working with.” He smirks slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling up like a know-it-all cat.

You look into your cup of hot chocolate and shrug. “Nothing too interesting,” you attempt to slide off.

Toby rolls his eyes. “Calling b-bull,” he snorts. “You l-look stressed. W-What’s on your m-m-mind?”

You sigh deeply and relax your body as you think back to the situation with those girls. “It’s nothing.”

Toby hums once more but does not push you. Deep down though, he knows something is wrong.

And that’s how it carries on. You and Toby meet every so often to work on your presentation and your paper together and your so called friends continually leave you in the dust. Before you know it, you’re spending more and more time with Toby than anyone else, and because of that, you don’t feel nearly as alone as you used to.

From Toby’s perspective, he would never tell you what he thought when he first saw you walk through those doors of the cafe to finally meet him in person.

When he first got that email in regards to him not showing up and worrying you, he’d rolled his eyes and pretended it didn’t matter. It was whatever, who cares? Apparently you. With a slight gripe in the back of his head, he looked you up on social media with the help of a friend named Ben and found all that he needed to know just by looking at your profile. He was almost ashamed to admit how enraptured with you he had become. That’s why he was so adamant you met him at a cafe, where he could spend time with just you.

When he saw you walking through the doors, his eyes scanned over every inch of you. You had a slight bounce in your walk despite it being so chilly.

He wondered if you wanted to be warmed up.

You looked so soft in his eyes, so sweet and so alluring. Just your looks alone was all he needed as water for a growing obsession.

Toby is addictive by nature. Seeing you was what allowed that addiction to take off. When he heard your voice? He felt like he was high.

He knew something was wrong with you when you sighed like that. It was a loaded sigh. Of course, after the two of you parted ways for the night and on good terms, he immediately dug into the lives of your so-called ‘friends.’ Let’s just say that damn near instantly, he did not like them.

Maria, a nursing major. He considered her an air head that wouldn’t get anywhere with substance, and saw that she was much more of a party girl than anything else.

Georgina, another nursing major. Also considered her a lost cause.

Helena, a medical assistant major. Toby considered her the worst one, but it didn’t come at first. He found that girl was vile in every sense. The things he’s overhead her saying about other people? Terrible. The things he’s overhead her saying about you? Absolutely unacceptable.

He noticed her whispers that cut like thorns wrapping around you from the shadows as he sat in class near her, but never next to her. He listened to the filth that poured from her mouth and was able to pick up the conversations from her phone like it was nothing.

And all of that? It lit a fire in him, a fire that would eventually burn her down and scorch her until she was nothing but ashes.

You’re about to head to class and present your final project with Toby. You look like a mess, and it’s not just from the lack of sleep because of your other class’s finals, but because you are absolutely emotionally drained and have nothing left to give. You’d finally formally broken up from those girls, but it did not come without tears.

Reader: hey guys, it’s been a little while, but I just wanted to get some things off of my chest before I call it. First and foremost, I want to thank you for the time we did spend together, but I don’t feel safe or happy anymore. These past few weeks have been nothing but straight ice and being left out and I’m just… I’m tired, for a lack of better words. I know that you don’t really want me around anymore, so I thought I’d just nip this one in the bud before it got out of hand or anything like that. I just - whatever, I’m sorry for whatever I’ve done to offend you.

Georgina is typing…

Georgina: Honestly don’t take this the wrong way but you legitimately brought this all onto yourself.

Georgina: you don’t really talk to us the way that we talk to each other

Reader: but you literally never gave me a chance???

Maria: shes right tho,,,,, like, you just always kept to yourself. You didnt really give us anything to go off of

Georgina: right??? And it’s not like she’d actually do any of the things we wanted to do either

Reader: I’m sorry but like, I offered for you guys to come do some things with me and I even asked for you to tell me when you guys were making plans - I would have gone out

Helena: does it even matter now though? You brought literally all of this onto yourself there’s no use for you to just beg us for you to come back lol. Just stop while you’re ahead

Helena: you were never really there to begin with tbh you just kinda existed

Maria: exactly that! Like im glad we’re getting stuff off our chest because omg did you get on my nerves. Always quiet and just watching??? Never saying anything??

Georgina: RIGHT It was like a literal ghost in the room LMFAO

Reader: are you fucking serious right now?

Reader: you’re going to act like this?

Maria: you brought it on yourself

Helena: it was bound to happen

Reader: I cannot believe you guys are acting like such assholes right now

Maria: you did it first though?????

Helena: ^^^^

Georgina: ^^^^

From there, the conversation had delved into them throwing all of their problems onto you. It honestly felt like projecting, but you had a class to go to and project to present and no time to cry.

You wiped your tears, got ready for the day and headed out to your building from out of your dorm. Soon, you would be on break and away from this place that’s driving you up a wall.

You walked across campus and plastered a faint smile on your face as you continued to move through the nippy air. You enjoyed seeing the leaves as they danced on the flowing air and eventually kissed the sidewalk. You could smell pumpkin spice and the remnants of November. What a beautiful season.

Waiting for you outside of Wendell’s Hall was Toby, hands in his pockets as he leaned up against the wall just beside the door.

“Were you waiting for me?” You ask with a small smile.

“Maybe,” he hums with a small smirk. “C-C’mon, it’s a little c-chilly out here,” he says as he gently shuffles you inside after opening the door for you. He watches you carefully as you walk through the halls and find the elevator to get to the sixth floor.

As the two of you wait for the doors to open, Toby checks you over.

“What?” You say with a small chuckle.

“J-Just checking,” Toby hums. “A-Are you okay?” He asks as the doors open. He nods for you to go in first, and then follows in directly after. He watches your finger press the button for six.

“Why?”

“You s-seem a l-little tense,” he says as he looks over you again, his eyes narrowing in on yours. “I-Is it the p-presentation?”

You hold your hand out and make a ‘so-so’ motion. “I guess,” you reply, attempting to shove off anything that might make you cry again. Your eyes are a little dark, and your skin is still soft from the saline, raw from you rubbing those pearls of water with your sleeves repeatedly.

“You w-wanna talk a-about it l-later?” He asks softly, his hand resting warmly on your shoulder as he brings you into his side.

You look up at him and smile. “We’ll see.”

When the doors open, you and Toby quickly make it to your class and are pleased to see there’s spots open and the two of you can sit together. Toby is quick to snag the seats for the both of you and his warm expression falls when he sees Helena waltzing into the room.

Helena sits a little ways from where you and Toby sit before she wiggles her fingers at you like a nonverbal smile before actually turning her lips up in a fake saccharine smile.

You shift uncomfortably and instead focus on your presentation. You feel a little nervous, mostly because Helena is here and this is also a big chunk of your grade. You’re academically passing with flying colors, but a hiccup like this could spell something bad. You breathe out deeply when you feel Toby’s hand resting on your shoulder, grounding you.

“We g-g-got this,” he says with a small smile, squeezing you lightly. “You w-wwanna get it out of the w-w-ay?”

“No,” you reply suddenly. “I just want to see how this goes.”

Toby nods and turns his attention to the other students that continue to walk through the door. “A-Anything for y-y-you,” he says softly.

You barely hear it, but you smile all the same.

Presentations pass in a pretty boring manner. Your professor seems pleased with everyone that presents, and she offers praise and saves the criticism for emails, but so far, it seems like everyone is doing well! You’re almost fully calm by the time you raise your hand to present but when Helena and her partner begin snickering, your heart sinks to your knees.

“Alright, you two are good to go,” your professor says with a warm, reassuring smile on her face after she pulls up your project on the overhead projector. “Giving the remote to Miss Reader, whenever you two are ready.” She holds the remote out to you and then whispers ‘you’re gonna do great’ before taking her seat in the front row.

You silently thank her for her reassurance and then turn your attention to Toby, who begins the presentation.

You make sure to speak clearly and concisely as you present your project, paying close attention to detail and everything that was outlined on the rubric. You watch your professor’s expression light up brighter and brighter as you carry on with your half of the presentation. It seems that she’s really pleased with the both of you, but especially you!

Your big hiccup comes when the questions part of your presentation comes up.

See, prior to this, the questions portion had been empty and pretty dead. But of course, because Helena is here, she’s dead set on making you flop.

When she starts firing questions, you and Toby answer them to the best of your abilities. Admittedly, you are more than mentally dead at this point. With every question that Helena digs into you, you feel your brain cells dying off at an even faster rate. The lights of the projector bore into you and make you dizzy. You’re just… exhausted.

Helena finally poses a question that makes your face heat up. “So?” She taunts, her eyes looking at you innocently. “I just wanna know,” she continues, her eyes flashing.

You should be able to answer this. It’s so simple and right there in your bank of knowledge you just can’t open the vault.

“Miss Reader..?” Your professor quietly asks, pulling you from your thoughts. “Are you able to-” You shake your head, feeling numb and cold all at the same time. “I’m sorry, no,” you whisper. It was one of the first things you learned in the class and one of the most important.

Your professor nods and mouths, ‘don’t worry,’ before turning to the rest of her class. “Alright then, you two are dismissed. Give them a round of applause for their work.”

The applause surrounds you but you do not feel it, and when you move back to your seat, you can’t help but feel embarrassed. The looks that you get from those around you are of pity and ‘she hasn’t learned anything this quarter, has she?’ It makes your face burn with embarrassment and you feel so unnaturally warm because of it. A rush of emotions comes over you when you see Helena’s shifty glances and hear her insipid giggles and you hurriedly get your things together and bolt out of the classroom.

Toby shoots up when you rush out and he’s not able to catch you. Instead, he sits in for the rest of the class to give you some space and anything else the professor may say. His glare is turned on Helena. When she flashes him that same sickly sweet, mocking smile, he sees red.

Class ends shortly after that, the professor clearly uncomfortable with whatever just happened with Helena and Toby is keeping his ire hidden until what comes after he deals with you. He’s got a few choice things in mind he’d like to do to Helena, mostly spinal disfigurement and popping bones from their joints and scattering them across the country, but he knows he has to play this as slimy as she did. He’s already conjuring up ways to academically cripple her.

Toby pushes those thoughts to the side before he makes his way to your dorm. He’s nodding to the guy at the front desk and running up the stairs to find you faster than his thoughts can even gather. He just wants to make sure you’re okay.

He walks through the hall of your floor before going over the room numbers. He’s only been in your dorm once - the two of you tend to spend time with each other outside of the campus. Twenty four hour McDonalds, out and about in the city, public parks, the two of you just like wandering. When he sees the numbers of your dorm, he internally sighs and knocks. “H-Hey, Reader? Y-You in t-t-there?” He asks as he knocks again.

From inside, you shuffle underneath your sheets. He’s here? You don’t answer.

“I j-just want to make s-sure you’re alright,” he continues in a soft voice. “If you n-need space though, I c-c-can go-” he barely makes the motion to move when you open the door just a crack.

You look up at Toby with dark, puffy eyes. You can’t bring yourself to say anything, but he can see that you’ve been through hell and back emotionally. You look like a mess, in less graceful words.

“Oh g-gods,” he murmurs as you push open the door just a bit more. “R-Reader,” he says softly as he takes you into his arms, his shoe gently pushing the door closed as you wrap your arms around his waist, taking in the scent of graphite and sandalwood as you sob into his chest. “What h-happened, s-sweetheart?” He asks softly as he rocks the two of you back and forth.

You continue to cry into his chest and grip onto the back of his hoodie as he gently maneuvers you to the side of your bed to let your tired body rest. “S-She’s so mean!” You cry as you continue to squeeze your eyes shut, still gripping Toby like he’s the only thing grounding you.

“What h-have they d-d-done to you?” He inquires in a tone just a little louder than a whisper. Internally, he knows he’ll make all three of those demons suffer and leave the school, by any means necessary. He just wants to hear it from you to know how hard he needs to fuck up their lives. Judging by this interaction alone? It’s monumental.

You then go into a painful detailing of everything those girls have ever made you feel, at one point even bringing up the chats you have saved on your phone. Your breathing begins to even, but Toby’s vision grows redder and redder.

He listens to everything you say as you recount your pain to him and he grits his teeth. Especially those chats - those are unforgivable.

You’re exhausted by the time you finally finish telling him everything they’ve made you feel and the things they’ve done to make you feel this way. You finish it with just a few more words. “They make me feel so small,” you admit through sniffles and broken breaths. “They just - they made me feel so left out and so insignificant,” you admit, still wiping away tears.

Toby holds you tighter before one of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek. “N-No! You’re n-not insignificant, you’re e-everything and m-more,” he begins to ramble. “Y-You’re s-s-so smart and p-put together and o-on top of i-it,” he continues, his thumb wiping away your residual tears.

“You’re just saying that-”

“I w-would never,” he cuts you off in a tone that’s more serious than he intended. “I m-mean everything I s-s-say and those g-girls suck. They d-don’t hold a candle to you,” he says as he cups your face.

“Toby…”

Toby hushes you by pressing a soft, almost scared he might spook you kiss to your lips as if he’s testing the waters. When you make no motion to fight him, he presses just a little more fervently before pulling away, leaving you with stars in your eyes. “I’ll handle e-e-everything, okay?” He promises softly, watching as the stars fade to exhaustion. “G-Get some r-r-rest,” he coos.

You allow him to lay you down as he moves the blankets to cover you before he gets up to turn off the lights. “You’re going to handle it?” You whisper as you allow sleep to veil over your body.

“Y-Yes, I’ll handle e-e-everything,” he promises again, flicking the lights off.

Toby fumbles through the dark for just a moment before slipping back into bed with you, allowing you to wrap around him like an octopus. He cradles you in his arms, his lips pressing to your forehead. “Sleepy t-time,” he mumbles as you cuddle into his chest.

You smile softly and feel your body go light, only anchored by Toby’s warm embrace.

[mandoalorian]

Javier Peña SFW Alphabet

Because the world needs more soft!Javi.

Warnings: 16+. allusions to sex, depression mention, cigarettes mention, alcohol mention, food mention.

Masterlist

Reblogs appreciated!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

So, Javi hates PDA. It makes him cringe. Javier can be pretty affectionate but only when you two are alone and spending private one-on-one time with each other. However, if he sees another pair of eyes on you, he can get protective pretty quick. He’ll guide you around with his hand placed on the small of your back, and he’s not afraid to slap your ass if it means he gets to assert his dominance.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

I mean, just look at Javier & Steve. Javi is an amazing best friend. He’s hilarious, and always jokes around, although most of the time, his humour can be quite dark and self deprecating. None the less, he’s super funny and never fails to make you laugh. He’s perfect to have around when you need to be cheered up. He’s also super supportive and will constantly look out for you. If you’ve fucked up and made a mistake, Javi will take the blame and have your back. You don’t even have to ask him. He really steps up for you.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

At first? No. Javi struggles to show his feelings, and he’s not the biggest hopeless romantic, as you might’ve guessed. He’s never really given out cuddles (or hugs for that matter), but if you’ve been together for a couple of months and you’re going steady, he doesn’t have an issue with getting into it. He learns to really like cuddles. Especially after sex.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He has no interest in getting married. Never has, never will. He doesn’t see the point in a piece of paper from city hall to confirm that you two love each other. As long as he can feel it, in his heart, that’ll be good enough for him. But if you absolutely want to get married, he’ll allow it. It won’t be a big ceremony though. Maybe just a few guests and a store bought cake. He doesn’t like the fuss. He doesn’t cook, ever. He had a pretty bad diet that consists of snacking on chips at the bar or ordering take-out. He has a cleaner too.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Honestly? Javier can be pretty brutal. If you’ve hooked up just a few times and he’s lost interest, he’ll probably just not call you back. If you’ve been together a while, he’s gonna be really torn up about breaking up with you. He’ll be sulking and moody for a few days and you’ll know that somethings up. Then he’ll go distance and ghost you, hiding out in a few motel bars leaving you worried about where he is. When you find him, there’s a big fight and he snaps and tells you he wants to end it all. When he misses you, he’ll pick up a girl from the brothel who looks similar enough to you, and he’ll think of you while he fucks her. He feels gross about it, but it’s just what he does.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Oh Lord, Javier has the biggest commitment issues. He’s terrified, as we seen with Lorraine. It’s gonna take a lot for him to settle down. He tries to reassure you that it’s not your fault and it’s a problem he needs to work out himself. It might take Javi a few years of steadily dating before his commitment issues become resolved, but as long as you’re willing to wait for him, he’ll be happy.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s definitely rough at first — in every way you can imagine. But you teach him how to be more gentle and considerate, both with yourself and the people around him. He can be pretty blunt which can cause a lot of hurt sometimes. When he sees that you’re upset though, he will show a surprising softer side. He’ll wrap his arm around you and smooth out your hair, and he’ll lull you to sleep by whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

The first time you hug Javi, he stiffens up completely. He has no idea how to react. The last time he received a hug must’ve been from his mom when he was still just a young boy. He often gives you hugs though, especially when you’re seeking comfort. Javier has big strong arms and he holds you so right. He runs at your flesh in soothing motions and he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. You can always smell the honeyed scent of his cologne, and cigarettes, when he hugs you. But you wouldn’t trade the feeling for the world.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

You’re probably going to say it first... and that’s okay! Javier does love you, he knows that for sure. It’s just... it can be hard for him to actually admit it and come to terms with it (with his commitment issues and all). You assure him it’s okay and he can take his time. But he ends up not taking long at all. Once you tell him you love him, his whole world feels complete and it’s suddenly pretty easy for him to tell you that he loves you back.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

To be honest, Javi is pretty confident in a relationship. No woman has ever left him before. So, he doesn’t get too jealous. Besides, other men know better than to get too close to you because Javier isn’t afraid to throw a punch or two. He is, by nature, extremely protective, though.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

So passionate. A clash of tongues and teeth. He often moans into your mouth and the vibrations from that alone are enough to send shivers down your spine. When he kisses you, he struggles to keep his hands to himself. With Javier, kisses often lead to making out which often leads to sex. He loves to kiss you anywhere. Along your jaw, down your neck and the valley of your breasts. He’s a biter too (this is canon). He loves to nibble at your skin and give you little lovebites.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Surprisingly decent. Kids aren’t his favourite thing in the world, and he does his best to avoid them, but on an occasion where he finds himself with a child, he can handle them pretty well. Olivia Murphy loves her uncle Javi.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Weekdays are the worst because Javi has to head to work pretty early. Weekends though? You and Javier will sleep in until around midday, just lounging in each other’s arms and basking in the morning sunlight as it seeps through your curtains. It’s soft and sweet and almost always results in morning sex. You and Javi find yourself indulging in tired conversations and soft touches as you both fall in and out of sleep.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Javier will be drinking beer or whiskey and the two of you will mostly likely be on his sofa, watching a movie together. Fancy dinners aren’t his style but he likes to treat you to them now and again on date night. And trust me when I say you two will be going at each other until the early hours of the morning.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’s an enigma to everyone he meets, and this doesn’t exclude you. It can be exhausting at first— how much he keeps to himself. He doesn’t talk about his childhood, or what he did at work today. He talks about very little. But once you express to him that you wish he’d be more open and vulnerable with you, he tries. He really does try. In the end, he’s a lot more confident and can talk to you about practically anything.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has 0 patience, as we see on stakeouts. He gets angry and frustrated super fast. He’s not too loud and he’s rarely a shouter, but when he’s pissed, you’re sure to know about it.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

It’s going to take him about three years for him to remember your birthday. But he remembers the exact shirt you were wearing the night you and him met. He forgets your mom’s name, but he remembers the brand name of the perfume that’s displayed on your dresser. Point is, he remembers very menial and silly things about you. Sometimes, he’ll bring up a random fact about you that he’s remembered and it’ll truly surprise you. Even though he struggled to remember the important things, you find is so endearing how he remembers the smaller and finer things.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first time you and Javi slept together, something just hit him like a ton of bricks. He’s slept with plenty of women, that much is clear, but with you, it was different. Right from the start, something felt different, and he couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was. Truth be told, it terrified him... this unknown feeling. But it excited him too, and only spurred him on more. It takes him a while to realise, but that feeling was love. That was the night he fell in love with you. And so for that reason, yours and Javi’s first time is his favourite memory.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Very protective. There’s no reason to elaborate. Due to the nature of his job and the shit he sees on a day to day basis, he makes you his number one priority. If anything ever happened to you, he couldn’t ever forgive himself. So he’s constantly at your neck and call. Anything you need, he will provide.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Javier is pretty low maintenance. Like I said, he will occasionally take you out for a meal at a fancy restaurant, but this is usually for anniversary dates. He’s taken a liking to going to the movies with you, and he also loves to go dancing with you in nightclubs. Javi’s job is well paid and he has a surprisingly good eye for jewellery. He always picks you out the most beautiful diamonds. You worry about him spending too much on you, though.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Smoking. You don’t like the smell of it. And when he has one too many beers. He tries to cut down though, for you.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Yeah, he looks after himself. He keeps himself well groomed. He even has a little toothbrush he uses to comb his moustache.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He really, really would. Say you and Javi have had a big fight and you are both spending some time away from each other... he’ll be really struggling. You’re always there to ground him and make him feel safe. He never realised how much needs you until you’re not with him anymore. He’d probably cry himself to sleep, but he’d never tell anyone.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He has a vision. It’s a pretty distant vision, well into the future. But once he retires from the DEA, he’d love to take you back to Texas and show you his fathers farm. Maybe even have a farm with you someday. A suburban house with a white picket fence and dog. It’s the last thing you’d expect from Javi, but in a sense, he craves the normality of it all.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Uh, he doesn’t like drugs? DEA agent and all. He doesn’t like the rain because it ruins his hair and he hates the way his colourful shirts stick to his skin. You tell him it’s sexy, though. He doesn’t like big events where he has to see and interact with a bunch of people.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He snores so loud. For the love of God, he needs to see a sleep therapist or some shit. Thankfully, you grow used to it, but you don’t know how he doesn’t wake himself up!

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