#and then other days i have the right sweater or the right combination of clothes

[purble-gaymer]

simple thoughts on meta knight and gender euphoria

[itsfairly]

if no one is going to talk about nanami's suspenders, i will.

nanami dresses really professionally, who else is going to wear a suit when going to fight curses? but it's the way he dresses professionally that it's interesting. sure, the colors on his suit aren't the most common combination to see in an office job, but when you focus on the pieces, you can tell he puts an effort into looking that way. slacks ironed right in the middle to get that prominent line, how he always makes sure to shine his shoes before they become too dull, and then his suspenders...god, you still remember the first he took them off in front of you.

you see, his suit can be pretty deceiving, hiding all his body underneath it. not just skin, but also build. so its no surprise if some things get tight around his body. Some things being said suspenders.

once the blazer was off and nanami placed his cleaver away, he sat on the bed with his back facing you as he unclasped the clips of his suspenders, the small click-click getting your attention from your phone as you stole a quick glance at him. you didn't thought much of it at first until you hear a quiet, but very noticeable in the silent room, groan as he slipped the garment off, making your heart skip a beat.

from there on, you continued to enjoy the view in silence, mentally thanking that his back was facing you and he wouldn't notice you staring. his shirt was the next to go, agonizingly slow as he worked through the buttons with the little energy he had from his mission today. but once unbuttoned, nanami took the shirt off and you felt your heart make its presence to you once more as it beat faster and faster. not because more skin was exposed to you, but because you understood why it was his suspenders that made him groan.

they were tight around his body, and after a day's work, they had left marks behind.

you dont know why the sight captivated you so badly. i mean, he wore something so elegant to work, something other people wouldn't wear given his line of work, something that probably left his skin sore. but god, you would be lying his seeing those marks didn't spark something in you.

but now, the backseat to this sight didn't satisfy you enough, so you stood up, walking to the other side of the room to steal a glance or two under the pretense of getting a sweater. if his back was a sight, the front was just as much. the x shape on his back extended over to his shoulder, draping the marks down his chest in two lines until they ended on both his sides. it was hard to play off the glances, having to remind yourself that you shouldn't be too obvious as you turned to your closet and search for your excuse (a sweater).

in a weird way, those marks were almost erotic, reminding you that nanami is much more muscular than his clothes make him seen. after all, just how tight (and how long) those suspenders could be if they left such marks? you just wanted to trace them with your fingers, letting the marks dictate where you would caress, feeling the slight dents in his skin as you soothed them over with your lips as you kissed over them, hearing him sigh and groan the more you went south until you...

"something wrong?" nanami asked, snapping you out of your thoughts as you turned your head to look at him.

"just choosing a sweater. i got chilly," you smiled at him, taking whatever sweater as quickly slipping it on.

nanami, to your dismay, had already changed out of his clothes and into his sweatpants, hiding away those marks that had caught your attention so quickly. he stood up from the bed, coming behind you and wrapping his arms around you with a chuckle.

"my darling is cold? i can't have that, you know?" he said, rubbing your sides affectionately to warm you up, not that he needed to when you were already quite hot and bothered now. "i can make you some tea if you want."

you chuckled, ignoring his hands on you (otherwise you would push him onto the bed when his body was probably too sore for that). turning around to face him, you place your hands on his shoulders to try and sneak a touch over where his suspenders would be, making you feel that anticipation was your hands roam down to rest on his chest as if you were already following along his marks.

"sounds nice, love," you nod, letting him taking your hand and guiding you to the kitchen.

maybe next time you would get a chance to feel those marks. this time, skin to skin. even better, take off those suspenders yourself.

[nouvxllev]

the girl across your street || p2

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

Summary: You both greeted each other. You lifted your scarf down to reveal a huge grin on your face, complementing Jenna's own. "I was waiting for you." Jenna lowered her music, hearing your voice was more of a symphony than any other artist she listened to.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: None

part 3 || masterlist

It was snowy. Too snowy for your liking, and definitely way too snowy for a Wednesday morning. Too damn early for a snowstorm to happen. Walking through the snow was a bit of a struggle, and you could barely keep your balance without tumbling altogether. But it was worth it, you say to yourself, if you got the chance to talk with Jenna again, enduring the freezing cold was a small price to pay for the chance to hear her voice.

Your hands were tucked so deep in your pockets that they might as well have become a part of your body. Layers of scarves covered your face, and your headphones doubled as earmuffs, topped with a beanie. You were dressed in a thousand sweaters and puffy jackets, and somehow, you're still so cold.

Music was, of course, blasting in your ears. But this time, instead of the usual songs with a mellow tune, it was gradually becoming happier, and you even threw in some Christmas tunes into the mix. Yes, it was cold, but it wasn't every day (even though it actually was) that you could inhale fresh air from your neighborhood without the scent of dog poop all around.

Turning around, you followed the route to Jenna's street, a path that could put the Wizard of Oz to shame. Dare you say, it was your happy place on earth, which, in all honesty, it was.

Stopping at that familiar sidewalk, you looked to your side and easily spotted possibly the most gorgeous being to ever walk this God-forsaken planet.

Jenna.

She was sitting on the bench, fully covered in snow from yesterday's storm. Even objects couldn't withstand the snowfall. With her knees curled up to her chest, she listened to music with closed eyes, and just like you, bundled up from head to toe with layers of puffy clothing. She almost looked like a penguin.

You attempted to run to her, almost falling because of the piled-up snow. Once you reached her spot, you had to take deep breaths and exhales.

Jenna looked up at you, having possibly already heard your footsteps coming closer to her, and her eyes seemingly lit up.

"Hi."

"Hey."

You both greeted each other. You lifted your scarf down to reveal a huge grin on your face, complementing Jenna's own.

"I was waiting for you." Jenna lowered her music, hearing your voice was more of a symphony than any other artist she listened to.

"You shouldn't have. It's freezing here!" You exclaimed, and you could even see your breath, and Jenna's, becoming a cold mist.

"Says the girl who walked in piles of snow to get here. Oh, what would your efforts be without me sitting on this bench?"

"Yeah… yeah, you're right." You stuttered, your lips becoming cold, and your nose turning red.

"Let's go inside before you get sent off to the North Pole to do Santa's bidding."

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Both of you were seated on Jenna's couch, surrounded by the warmth of the fireplace she had lit just for the two of you to be cozy. The scent of the applewood coming from the fireplace, combined with the overall aroma of Jenna's house—perhaps from the various candles you assumed her parents brought—created the perfect atmosphere. You swear to yourself that you were living in wonderland at this point.

In the quietness of her home, you could feel and hear your heartbeat. The crackle of the fireplace and the distant chirping of birds in the background made you forget that you were a human being. That is, until Jenna spoke.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" She turned to you, grinning, her voice husky. Her hair was tied in a messy bun, and she still wore her beanie, with headphones comfortably resting on her neck.

You looked at her, blinking. "Out of all the questions, you ask me something super cliche?"

"Hey, it gets the conversation going." Her face contorted, mocking an offended expression before letting a smile creep out of her lips.

You glanced off for a moment, then nodded your head with a slight smile. "Guess it does." You adjusted yourself on the sofa, thinking of a favorite horror movie you'd rewatch anytime if any genre suddenly disappeared.

"I'll pick… I'll pick Scream." You turned to her, giving her a series of affirmative nods. In truth, you weren't a big fan of the horror genre, but you caught yourself watching it from time to time.

"Ooh, classic." Jenna's face lit up, clicking her tongue. "You got that because of the opening question I used?"

"Actually, yeah, kind of. It's just one movie off the top of my head, and hey, it is a classic. Who couldn't?"

"Points to you on that one," she said, starting to get up. She fetched the remote and a few DVDs from a drawer near the TV, which sat atop the fireplace.

"What about you? Your favorite scary movie," you questioned, your gaze following her every move.

"I'd say... 'Possession' by Andrzej Żuławski, 1981. You've got to appreciate the production quality on that one." She turned to you, showing you the DVD for that exact movie, then shuffled it.

"Blood, guts, gore?"

"Surprisingly only minimal blood, guts, and gore. It's this psychological horror movie that's so hauntingly beautiful, it's almost scary. I love a good film that gives you some kind of adrenaline rush." A radiant glow emanated from her as she talked about her favorite movie and described it.

Your gaze was fixated on her, as if she should be the last thing you'll see before meeting your demise.

"So are we gonna watch Scream or are we gonna watch Scream?" She then showed you the two DVDs, both copies of the first Scream movie. One autographed by Wes Craven himself, and one clean fresh off the drawer.

"You've given me a lot of choices there," you snarked, raising a brow as you reached for the autographed DVD in Jenna's hands. "Wes Craven?" you exclaimed. "The Wes Craven!?"

She chuckled at your reaction, a grin forming on her lips. "The one and only," she said, tucking her hands behind her back. "I have some connections, thanks to my mother, who was friends with many directors, including someone who worked with Wes Craven on the Scream set. So, I asked if he had any DVDs signed by Wes Craven and gave it to me."

"We've got to watch this," you declared, flipping the DVD in your hands before handing it back to Jenna.

Jenna scoffed, "Is the ending going to change just because it's autographed by Wes Craven?" She walked toward the DVD player, plugging it in.

"Hey, you might never know." You hear the nostalgic sound of the disk being inserted, and you were somehow once again transported to when you first watched your first movie via DVD.

"I'm surprised you still use DVD players," you commented, watching Jenna move away from the TV and then sit back down with you.

"It's just that feeling of inserting the CD that makes the movie more worthwhile."

You shrugged it off, "Guess you're right," and the Scream logo appeared before your eyes, the sounds of someone shrieking in the background to give it all that horror effect. You had seen this movie countless of times, maybe even more whenever you were bored out of your mind and needed something to scare you once in a while. But somehow, watching it with Jenna, feels like a whole new life.

Minutes passed, and the opening scene finished. A masterpiece in itself you would say, it really never gets old.

Jenna chuckled at some parts, making you turn your head slightly. She'd probably make a good Ghostface.

"Do you think I'd make a great actor someday, y/n?" The question came abruptly, and you looked at her. She was still facing the movie, the reflection of the TV screen in her eyes. Even from afar, you could see the glint in her eyes, you can see the glint in her eyes on how much she awes horror movies, and even movies in general. Maybe that's why she popped the question.

"Yeah…? I don't know. I really haven't seen you act before."

"Hey, I can fake cry pretty good." She adjusted herself, her body now facing towards yours.

"Really? Then... I’ll give you… 5 bucks to fake cry right now!" You pulled out your sad excuse of a wallet, nothing but coins and a dollar was inside of it.

Jenna laughed, a voice you horribly feel head over heels for. "You’re paying me to fake cry? For 5 bucks? Come on, dude," she remarked, pushing your money away.

You scoffed then rolled your eyes, insisting that she should take the money regardless by handing it to her despite her hand being in the way. "You’re going to be in the acting industry, Jenna! People are gonna pay you for your acting skills! Take it as like... training.”

"Okay, okay…" She held up both hands then took a deep breath, opening her eyes, focused. Atleast, she tried to.

She let out a chuckle, a wheeze some would say. "I can’t fake cry when you look at me like that!" She debated, her hands speaking for herself as she gestured towards you.

"Like what?"

The whole room went silent for about a second, Jenna observing your features up and down. Or, atleast, that's what you think in your head of yours.

"Like… some sort of freak."

"I look like a freak?" You pointed towards yourself, a playful tone in your voice as a sly grin appear on your lips, your eyes widening in curiosity.

Jenna's mouth hung open, "That was so far from my intentions!" Her voice high-pitched, trying to convince you in some sort of way.

“Okay, we both know that was definitely your intentions, if not harsher."

"I did not!"

"Oh Jenna, Jenna, Jenna... denying it makes you look guilty."

You both continued to playfully twist eachothers words, coming up with clever comebacks with eachother and just full on playful banter as the TV played Scream. Not really the most ideal movie to play with when you're about to explode since you were playfully bickering like an old married couple to your long-time crush.

After minutes of laughter, you both finally calmed down, shifting your positions on the sofa to sit on the floor, backs against the sofa.

You looked over to Jenna, a smile gracing your lips. "You're going to become a great actor, Jenna. I just know it." Glancing down, you noticed her hand close to yours. You wanted to take hold of it, you really did, whisper sweet nothings, and tell her she'd be the rising star in everyone's hearts. If not, then your heart will be preserved for all of eternity to let her be the star of yours. If it sounded corny, but, that was just how you felt.

"How? Are you some all-seeing Goddess?" She looked towards you, her eyebrows knitting but she kept smile.

"If that what it takes for you to believe in me, then yeah, I guess I am."

"You’re a dork, y/n. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Someone by the name of Jenna."

She chuckled at that, seemingly aware of the effect she had on you, even though you'd only met a couple of days ago.

The fireplace was starting to die down, along with the setting sun. Streetlights flickered on, and snow began to form outside.

"Y/n… Where are you going to spend Christmas?" Jenna asked, her voice filled with concern. "I'm surprised your parents aren't wondering why you're always going out early and coming back so late." She looked at you, noticing your head was down, and your smile was a bit crooked.

"My parents… my parents aren't exactly here. So that's a plus, right? They won't be able to lecture me and all." You laughed, albeit slightly, a broken laugh.

Jenna's eyes widened, her body turning towards you. "Oh. Oh, God, I'm sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have—"

You furrowed your eyebrows until you understood what she misunderstood. "Oh, no— No! They aren't dead. They're just busy with work and all. They're from all the way across the globe, so…" You reached for your pocket, grabbing your phone, which had been uncharacteristically turned off for the whole day.

A picture of your family flashed on the screen, capturing a moment of shared smiles. You didn't know it would be the last picture you'd take together.

"They won't come visit?"

"They don't really text me that often, let alone when they're coming back." A smile tried to tug at your lips, Jennas concern slightly making you feel better about yourself.

"But hey, it'll be a Christmas miracle if they do." You chuckled, a light-hearted joke to lift the mood.

Silence overcame the room, wondering if you had said something wrong or overshared too much. Your hands became clammy as Jenna stayed silent, contemplating whether you should excuse yourself and never come back to her house ever again and change routes. Or maybe even change towns and your full government name.

"Why don't you spend Christmas with my family for a bit?" Jenna asked, her voice filled with hope.

Turning to her, you tilted your head with a scrunched-up face. "Really? Are… Are you sure it's okay? We just met like… a couple of days ago."

She looked down, avoiding your eyes, taking your hand with hers and rubbing her thumb against the back of your hand. "You're one of the few people I let into my heart, y/n. And my family will literally bombard you with love like you've never felt before. I'm sure they'll like you."

You smiled at that, and before you knew it, you accepted her offer. It was nighttime when you stepped outside Jenna's house, the snow becoming heavier and taller than ever.

You fell into a routine of meeting Jenna every morning. You'd wake up earlier than usual, then walk through piles of snow to get to her house. How she hadn't suspected that you had a massive crush on her was beyond you.

You even spent Christmas with her and her family, who welcomed you with open arms. Smiles all around, and you even got her little cousins to like you as if you were their big sister. You never felt at home more than anything. It was as if they were your own family, a family that was always home for you. You kind of teared up a bit at the thought, seeing how someone else's family brought out the happiest version of you rather than your own.

You were happy.

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tag/s: @moistblobfish

[steddieas-shegoes]

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

Eddie’s voice rang out through Steve’s bedroom.

Steve jumped because, well, he was completely alone in his house less than a minute ago, and now Eddie Munson was standing in his doorway staring at him.

In a skirt.

Not like, a short one. Just one of Robin’s that she let him borrow with no explanation.

She kind of gave him a knowing look, but she didn’t say anything. She probably didn’t want to scare him or make him second guess himself or feel any of the shame he finally buried deep enough to even ask her for it.

It’s just when he first saw it in her closet, he fell in love with it. The way it flowed in just the right spots, how it hit above the hips (or he thought it would if he ever was brave enough to try it on), how the color was the exact shade of blue he always preferred.

And Robin never even wore it.

It was shoved in the back of her closet like a forgotten thing, never to see the light of day because then Robin would have to acknowledge something other than jeans or stupid pleated pants that were apparently “all the rage for lesbians, Steve!”

So he spent months picturing himself in it, touching the soft fabric any time he had to grab something from her closet, practicing asking to borrow it “for a girlfriend.” Practiced telling himself that skirts were only gendered because of society, or whatever bullshit spiel Robin had gone into when they saw a guy getting teased for wearing a dress in Indy.

And he believed it just fine when it came to others. Doesn’t make any man who is a man less of a man and all that.

But for him?

It’s just not allowed.

Until it was.

He was staying the night at Robin’s because they had to close and then open the next morning. She was showing him her new sweater she’d bought for her first date with Nancy that she refused to actually ask Nancy out on. When she opened the closet, he saw the edge of it.

“Can I borrow that?”

Robin looked at him like he’d gained ten heads.

“Borrow what? The sweater? No. This sweater cost more than most of my closet combined. It’s gonna be my magical confidence booster.”

“Not the sweater.” Steve took a deep breath. “The skirt.”

“Uh.”

“I mean. Not for me. Obviously. For someone else.”

Robin raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

“Uh. Do I know her?”

“Nope.”

“Does she need clothes or something? I can do a closet clean out to help.”

Steve loved Robin. She wasn’t exactly well-off, but she’d literally give the shirt off her back if it meant someone else would have clothes who needed them.

He only felt a little guilty about lying to her.

“No, no. Uh. Just the skirt. She saw one like it the other day and loved it so much. She couldn’t get that one so I think if she can just wear this one once she’ll get it out of her system, ya know?”

If he was talking about himself, that was only for him to know.

But he saw the way Robin was looking at him. She knew. No amount of coverup was going to make her not know. He could only hope she wouldn’t ask questions.

“Sure. She can try it and see if it gets out of her system. She could also keep it if it doesn’t though.”

Steve gulped.

“Really?”

Robin gave him a small smile, encouraging when he felt like he was going to throw up all over her ugly bedroom carpet.

“Yeah. God knows I won’t ever wear it unless I’m being forced to.”

“Okay.” Steve smiled and walked over to the closet. “I…she’s gonna be really excited about this. Thanks, Robs.”

“Anytime Dingus.”

He turned to look at Eddie standing in his doorway, face flush with embarrassment and shame. He didn’t want this to be the end of whatever was going on between him and Eddie.

They were dancing around each other according to Robin and Will and Dustin and Max.

They were being ridiculous according to Nancy and Jonathan and Wayne.

They were being cautious according to Eddie.

They were just taking it slow.

Steve hated it.

But he knew why Eddie wanted to be cautious; Rushing into a relationship built on shared trauma is probably worth taking a little time on.

And even if they have been basically dating for months, it’s totally fine that they haven’t even kissed.

And now they probably never will because Eddie just walked in while he was wearing the skirt.

He loved this skirt. He felt pretty. He loved that when he turned in a circle, it fluttered out just enough to look cute, but not enough to show a bunch of skin. He loved the way the color made his tanned skin just a bit lighter, and he glowed a little in the mirror.

But now he would always think of Eddie leaving him in the dust because of it.

“I just. I. Sorry.”

Steve looked down at his feet, trying to feel for the zipper along the side of the skirt to take it off before he made things worse. His hands were shaking, adrenaline pouring through him so quickly he couldn’t find where the zipper began.

He felt a hand on top of his, holding it firmly to keep it from moving anymore.

“Stevie. Look at me.”

As hard as it was to do it, Steve looked up at Eddie, tears already forming in his eyes.

“You look beautiful. Keep it on, let me see you.”

And even though the words were so kind and made Steve feel so much better, he let the tears fall from his eyes.

Hearing Eddie say it out loud, that he was beautiful and allowed to wear this if it made him feel beautiful, was almost too much for him to handle. His last set of scars had really done a number on his self-confidence, but this skirt had given him hope for the first time in almost a year that he’d feel good in his skin again. Eddie had the power to tear him back down, but of course he hadn’t. He made it better, like he always did.

Eddie pulled his hand away from the skirt, holding it up and twirling him in a circle.

Steve giggled.

When was the last time he did that?

Never, maybe.

Eddie’s smile was contagious as they looked at each other with matching beaming smiles. He was staring at Steve’s face now.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy, sweetheart.” Eddie reached his unoccupied hand out to touch the waistline of the skirt. “I don’t think you know how incredible you look when you’re happy.”

What does a person even do with a compliment like that?

Pass out? Kiss? Die?

Steve settled on kissing Eddie.

It was time to move beyond whatever they’d been doing. Steve couldn’t wait any more.

If Eddie was going to not only accept this part of Steve that Steve had barely even accepted of himself, but also encourage him to feel beautiful, then Steve was going headfirst into this.

Their lips met harshly at first, Steve being a bit overzealous and misjudging how close they already were.

But within seconds, Eddie was slowing it down, placing both hands on Steve’s cheeks to control the pace better. He was licking along Steve’s bottom lip, silently asking for entrance, but not moving and faster or demanding anything more than what Steve wanted.

When they parted for air, Eddie rested his forehead against Steve’s, eyes blinking open slowly.

“You like the skirt?” Steve asked with a smirk.

“I love the person in it. I like whatever he feels best in.”

Steve sat with that for a moment, but recovered quickly.

“You love me?”

“Can’t imagine how you didn’t know, sweetheart.”

“Just didn’t know it was like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like the real kind. The kind where you love someone enough to love the things they love even if you aren’t sure what to do with it.”

“I love you the real kind.”

Eddie was smiling at him when he pulled away and left a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“I love you the most kind.”

“I love you the best kind.”

Steve laughed.

“Can we dance?”

“If you want.”

“I wanna take the skirt for a test drive.”

Eddie settled his hands on Steve’s hips and started humming a song that was definitely not usually for a slow dance, but sounded nice enough for them.

When Eddie spun Steve out and twirled him back into his arms, and his skirt moved in just the right ways, he felt more like himself than he ever had before.

And when Eddie bought him his own skirt from a store in Indy the next time they had a date night, he let himself feel pretty in a way he didn’t think was possible.

[saltygilmores]

THOUGHTS WHILE WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS: S3/EP5/8 O CLOCK AT THE OASIS (PART 3) Aka SweaterPaws, Fake Fish, The Best Okuh Ever, And Jess Mariano Is A Waterlogged Infant Kitten

Parts 1 & 2 and all other episodes can be found in my pinned post.

This scene of Rory overhearing an answering maching message from Dwight's irate wife combines two of AmyShermanPalladino favorite things: answering machines and (the voice of) Alex Borstein (Celine & Drella on GG, Suzie on Mrs Maisel. Also Lois on Family Guy). Gilmore Girls Producer: Attention, Gilmore Girls crew! It has come to my attention that our budget will not cover both Outdoor Landscaping Scenes and Fishtanks. Sacrifices will have to be made.

Finally she admits to herself that Dean is a serial killer. And casual swearing from Rory? Wow, what a delight to hear.

!!!SWEATER PAWS ALERT!!!!

What do the kids say? Unbothered. Moisturized. Flourishing? In my lane? Something like that. It's clearly a school day (since Rory is in her uniform) while it appears to be a rare day where Jess hasn't been scheduled to work in the Coffee Mines before school. Speaking of school, he's walking away from school instead of towards it and is not carrying any school supplies or a backpack. He looks happy. Just vibing in his ugly oversized clothing. Hopefully he looks up every so often so he doesn't walk face first into a lamp post.

Or that.

Blue Crush was a 2002 movie about a girl who surfs starring Kate Bosworth. Get it? Cause Rory is covered in water?

Hey. Eyes up top, Pal.

The floofy hair. The prominent draggy lip. The five o'clock shadow. Salty enjoys naming things she can see.

How many of Jess' books have been ruined with water? 2 so far. The answer is 2.

And now...ladies and Gentlemen...I present the greatest Milo Okuh Ever Okuh'D:

Get you a man who will risk soaking himself and pretend he didn't assist you with turning off a sprinkler so your boyfriend Dean won't fly into a jealous rage over it. It brings a tear to ol Salty’s eye. The episode wraps up with Lorelai attempting to end the Peyton Sanders nonsense by apologizing to Emily and taking the blame for the entire incident. Silly Lorelai, she didn't consider "What would Emily Gilmore think?" first and foremost before agreeing to go on one date with a random guy. I mean, Lorelai declining a second date with Peyton could have caused Emily to lose rank in her Tea Party Circle with Peyton's mother or some nonsense like that, according to a ridiculous story Richard just told Lorelai earlier in the episode. Let me be clear here, in case the message got a little lost- I am 100% siding with Lorelai here. She should not have to grovel like this over something so meaningless.

HOGWASH. Stop this right now Lorelai. Emily is standing just a few feet away and you're in a kitchen filled with many sharp knives and cooking implements. I'll look the other way. She even agrees to go on a second date with Peyton just to pacify Emily even though she just made it painfully clear how miserable it would make her to see this dude again. Emily is quite pleased seeing Lorelai's state of misery. Well, like I said earlier, you do only have a very small window of time before David Bowie stops performing forever, so go for it I guess. Take the tickets, then drop Hamm. Drop him like Rory dropped out of Yale. I have a final comment: Although by the end of this episode we don't see Rory at school, one would have to presume that after the sprinkler incident she either had to get on the bus and go to school sopping wet or go home and change and blowdry her hair and risk being very late to class. Either she gets reprimanded for showing up to school late or she gets reprimanded for the wet uniform and hair so she's screwed no matter what. If he didn't take an ounce of pity on Rory for her Hit By A Deer story, do you think Headmaster Charleston would buy some fantastical tale from Rory about her tardiness being due to a sprinkler, sweater paws, a neighbor with a board game fetish, and Dean the unabomber?

[minotaur-asterion]

Cold [insert entire emoji list here]

Do it >:)

This took me 20 days, Sal! Curse you! (Shakes fist)

🏳️‍🌈 Sexuality: Unlabeled! I don’t label any of the voices’ sexualities

🏳️‍⚧️ Gender: Unlabeled, UNLESS within Stubborn’s line of sight, in which case they’re both female until they break line of sight

😇 Religion: I mean… Cold’s a fragment of a god. He probably should believe in his progenitor? He’s not the type to worship, though

🧸 Childhood: In my human/magical girl AU, Cole’s raised by a single father. Him and Hernando are childhood friends (I’m just a sucker for childhood friends)

👻 Fear: Already answered!

🎶 Music: He prefers super energetic music, like breakcore and hyperpop. Classical is alright, but it can get a little boring if he’s not doing something while listening to it

👽 Quirk: He loves loves loves knives. Throwing knives, cooking knives, stabbing and parrying and hunting, he loves them. He has a collection in his closet; they’re in tip-top shape but he never uses them

💤 Sleep: Cold sleeps like the dead. No dreams, no talking in his sleep, no moving around in the middle of the night. It freaks everyone out until they see his chest move

🦾 Disability: Some of the star-shaped scars on his body will give him bouts of weakness or phantom pain when touched

💝 Love language: Physical touch all the way. If he’s sitting with someone at least one of his limbs is draped over them or touching them somehow. Cold likes to lay on top of others like a cat

🫂 Friendship: He doesn’t normally verbally express to his friends that he loves and supports them, but even so, he’s always in their corner and is willing to defend them

💔 Angst: Somehow, despite not having any parents, Cold has mommy and daddy issues /lh

🪢 Family: Since he’s so deeply connected to The Long Quiet and the idea of what they were supposed to be, he considers them the closest thing to blood family he has. There’s the other voices, sure, but that’s more found family than anything. He still thinks about The Long Quiet sometimes. Misses them, maybe

📓 Hobby: Already answered!

👗 Clothes: Cold’s wardrobe mainly consists of sweaters over revealing clothes. The sweaters are always worn off-shoulder. Always!

🔪 Fighting: Cold is an incredible ambusher, able to go for the weak points quicker than the eye can follow. However, he’s horrible at defending himself- a glass cannon of sorts

🌟 Desires: Cold wishes he were easier to entertain. Interesting stuff can come and go but it’s hard to land on something long enough to feel as though he can stop trying to look for the “next thing,” so to speak. It’s exhausting in of itself

🥇 Excels at: Cold’s good at killing. He’s good at the guitar. I don’t see what other skills he would ever need /j

🍫 Food: He’s not good at eating whatever’s put in front of him. Most foods are the wrong flavor, wrong texture, wrong smell, or some combination of the three. Liquid foods are usually the safest, so those are usually his go-to

🎭 Lies: His biggest lie, he has told to others and himself- he doesn’t feel anything. The others have preconceived notions about him that causes backlash when he tries to expand beyond them and express his feelings, even unintentionally, and it causes him to retreat back to his stoic shell

❤️‍🔥 Romantic: Cold has trouble trying to differentiate between platonic and romantic attraction, so he usually tries to look to the other person to determine what he should be feeling. Once he decides their relationship is romantic, he’ll begin to develop a little crush

💄 Appearance: If he doesn’t close his mouth the right way, sometimes his fangs stick out from beneath his lip. Think of this like a cat mlem

🖕 Anger: The sight of a visibly angry Cold is rare, since his anger is implosive. He’ll bottle it up and let it out in private and resorts to complaining to blow off some steam

🐱 Animal: If Cold came across an animal, chances are they’d get along. (Unless it’s Beast. Beast will eat him) He thinks snakes are neat

😬 Worst Thing Done: Besides slaying damsels? He eats cereal dry. FOR FUN.

😭 Worst Thing Happened: Probably the stuck in the void thing. In his opinion, metaphysical death is so much worse than physical death

😶 Random: Cold’s favorite piece of media is Waiting For Godot. The play features characters who are waiting for something that’ll never come- something he can immensely relate to

[writingforstraykids]

Addicted to you - Chp. 7

Pairing: Minchan (mention of changlix | ot8)

Word Count: 7348

Summary: Another two months later, things seem to stabilize again, and Minho is happier than ever with Chan despite his injury slowing him down. Everything seems to be perfect until their friends confront Chan about a possible relationship, and Chan's fear of being out in the open gets the better of him. He notices too late that Minho's right there, hearing everything...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, cuddles, smut , dom!chan, sub!minho, angst, verbal fight (also minho slaps chan)

A/N: Uhm...I'm sorry, it gets sad/heavy in the end @mal-lunar-28😅😂 ~ Moon🌙

Chp. 6 | Chp. 8

Just about the time I get it right Everything's in line, I get anxious If it feels too good to be true Then it probably is, I love it but I hate it Self Sabotage ~ Ruelle

Chan hadn't been lying about needing to let off some steam. Minho was slyly teasing him in front of the others, hands wandering over his body when no one was looking. In turn, Minho found himself getting fucked stupid in the most inappropriate settings, and he was secretly starting to love it. Backstage between performances in some desolate room or Chan's studio when Jisung and Changbin were away to get snacks. One night, they found themselves alone in the house and Minho was being a tease to no end. Chan, who had enough of his antics, bent him over the kitchen counter, ravishing Minho and interrupting him making dinner. On another early morning occasion, Chan sucked him off in their shared showers, and Minho could do nothing but contain his moans and hope no one would hear them, or worse, come inside. 

Just like that, another two months passed, and Minho started getting excited about their first year together. Chan’s mood was slowly stabilizing and things were improving between the two. They still hadn't defined what they were exactly, but it felt a lot like he had a boyfriend, which was alright with him. 

Minho was in his room scrolling through his social media platforms for cute ideas on how to make their "anniversary" special and perfect. He gently rubbed his knee and contorted his face at the stinging pain. About a week ago during practice, he messed up the landing after a jump and hurt his knee. The doctors advised him to take it easy and go on walks to keep up with movement but to refrain from dancing for a couple days. It pissed him off, but he knew he'd make it worse by not listening to them. So Chan had accompanied him on his walks and ensured he wasn't overdoing it. Someone knocked at his door, and only a moment later, his favorite curly-haired boy glanced inside. "Hi there," he smiled brightly, quickly turning off his phone to give his full, undivided attention. 

Chan smiled and came over, leaning down for a quick kiss. "You think you can show me those steps again before the children join us?" 

"Sure thing, love," he told him and took his hand, walking downstairs with him. "You look really cute today," he said softly. Chan was wearing a light blue sweater and black sweatpants combined with a beanie of his, a few curls sticking out from beneath it. 

"Thank you, baby," he smiled shyly and squeezed his hand thankfully. 

Minho looked at him fondly, checked their surroundings, and gave him a quick kiss. He looked over him once more and let a passing smirk grace his lips. “Am I right to think you are looking for cuddles?” He squinted his eyes playfully at the man.

“What gave it away?” Chan asked, giggling softly.

“My sweater,” Minho chuckled knowingly and brushed his hand over Chan’s shoulder. “You usually wear my clothes when you do.”

Chan laughed softly, heart melting at how well Minho knew him. It was true; he usually wore something that belonged to Minho when he felt lonely and in need of comfort. This way, he had him wherever he went. “Stop being so sweet to me,” he said softly. 

“Stop having such a beautiful smile,” Minho said, winking at him as Chan blushed deeply, hiding his face slightly to cover a small smile. “See, you can’t change that either. Deal with it, Channie love.” He teased the man with a chuckle.

Once they got to the practice room, Minho turned on the music quietly and stepped next to Chan, taking his hand once more. He talked him through the steps again before demonstrating to him. Chan followed his directions and danced along, still holding hands. As soon as they were done, Chan pulled him into a warm embrace, making Minho giggle happily as their noses brushed together. “Can I take you out for dinner tomorrow?”

Minho’s smile widened. “Just you and me?”

“Just us,” he nodded, and his heart warmed seeing how excited Minho looked at the confirmation.

“Is this a date, Channie love?” he asked softly.

“You could call it that,” he nodded with a sweet smile. “I have something to give you,” he said, thinking of the small silver ring safely stored away in his room. He was ready to take things a step further and finally put a label on their relationship.

“Oh, really?” he asked curiously and searched his eyes. God, his lips were begging Minho to kiss him right then and here.

"Look at our hyungs flirting again!" Jeongin shouted out, and Minho flinched away from Chan, surprised. From the corner of his eye, he sees the others begin to pile into the room.

"You're just jealous," Chan grinned at him, still holding his hand. 

Minho looked down at their hands and bit back a smile. "Alright let's get ready, everyone." 

"You better take it easy," Chan warned him. 

"I know," he sighed softly and mostly supervised his friends for the rest of the afternoon. Boring. 

-

Minho later found himself sitting at his desk in his room, listening to a few new songs and humming along softly. He wrote down a few ideas for the dances and scribbled down some formations and group placements. 

"Minho hyung?" He heard a voice softly call out his name.

"Yes?" he asked, looking up at Jisung, who was glancing inside his room from the doorway. 

"Can I have the keys to the practice room? Hyunjin locked us out again," he chuckled. 

Minho opened the drawer on his left and took out the keys. "Unlock the door and bring them right back before the same thing happens again," he said, tossing him the keys. Jisung nodded and left, leaving the door cracked open. Minho went back to focusing on the songs. 

"Min?" Felix called out to him not even five minutes later. 

"Yes, Lixie?" he asked, putting down his pen and looking up at the man. 

"I just wanted to ask if you're still up for working on new stuff tomorrow?" 

"Yeah, sure thing," he nodded and flashed him a smile as he gave him a thumbs up. 

"Nice," he beamed.

“I mean, we could just work on it later today if you’d like,” Minho suggested. But his expression dropped a little as Felix contorted his face from his words. “Or not?”

“Changbinnie’s coming back from his trip today. I wanted to try and spend some time with him before the others come for him,” he apologized gently. 

“Ohh, right,” Minho chuckled and waved him off. “That’s fine. Make sure you get some cuddles for me too,” he winked at him, and Felix giggled before leaving again, still leaving the door cracked open. "I should've closed the door," he groaned to himself and glanced over, deciding he was too lazy to do so and leaving it open. Hopefully, he can continue working in pea- 

"Hyung?" Jeongin's voice interrupted his thoughts once more. Or maybe not…

Minho closed his eyes in defeat, forcing a bright smile on his lips for their maknae before looking up at him. "Yes, dear?" 

"I feel like I didn't get all the steps today and I'm nervous I'll mess them up," he confessed, genuine worry in his tone as he spoke. 

"Innie, I promise you'll be fine. I think you did a great job today and it's only going to get better," he told him patiently. "We can go through them again together tomorrow, okay?" 

"Okay," he beamed at him, relieved. He gave Minho a smile and left, with the door still open.

He continued working, and three minutes later, someone knocked gently. "Oh, for fucks sake, can't I work in peace for like ten minutes?" he groaned. Once he looked up, he met Chan's amused chocolate eyes. "Ah, it's you." 

"Wow, not the exact greeting I was hoping for," he giggled and strolled over to his lover. "What are you doing?" 

"Trying to work," he told him. "Obviously," he pointed at his desk. 

"Want to take a break?" Chan asked. 

"Not really, no," Minho shook his head. "My brain's producing good stuff right now." 

"Mhm," he hummed and glanced around his room. "Can I stay?" 

"Sure, just be quiet," he nodded and vaguely waved towards his bed. Chan hummed, agreeing, but sat down at the edge of his desk instead. That alone meant trouble, and Minho wanted to stay focused. "Channie," he tried patiently. 

"What?" he asked innocently. 

"I'm working," he said, glancing up at him. 

"I know, you just told me so," Chan nodded in agreement and blinked at him innocently. "Am I distracting you?" 

"Only a little," he said and squinted his eyes at him. Chan’s gaze didn’t waver one bit, instead locking in on Minho’s harder. And he knew exactly what that meant. "You're horny right now, aren’t you?," he asked suddenly, but he could tell the shift in his lover’s eyes once he looked in them. 

"What? No…Well, maybe a little," he shrugged sheepishly. "You know it's not fair that you're so effortlessly handsome," he complained. 

"It's not fair you're ready to have sex all the time either. Deal with it," he spoke as a warning. "Go look behind my sweaters. There's some stuff you could use to pass the time." 

Chan rolled his eyes and leaned forward, bracing himself on the armrests of his chair. "Baby." 

"Love?" he asked, slightly irritated. 

"I won't settle for anything other than you, you hear me?" he asked, and Minho's ears quickly burned blush pink. 

"But I'm working on our songs, love," he whined softly, a bit frustrated. But he couldn’t stop himself from shifting in his seat as Chan’s words went straight to his core, making him feel fuzzy and hot.

"Min-." 

"What the fuck are you doing?" Jisung asked, suddenly standing in the doorway again and interrupting the two. 

"He's trying to bully me into cuddling with him when I'm supposed to be working," Minho smoothly answered and shoved Chan back to create a little distance. "What the fuck are you doing? Again?" he said back. 

"Keys," he said, holding them up proudly. 

"Oh, right," he nodded and took them. He placed them back in the drawer. "Close the door on the way out." 

"Why, need some privacy for cuddles?" he asked teasingly, wiggling his eyebrows at the two. 

"Get out right now," Minho jokingly threatened him. Jisung left giggling and closed the door. 

Minho turned his attention back to the man sitting on his desk. "Chan, what's up with you?" 

"Nothing." 

"Don't lie, you suck at it," he giggled. 

Chan sighed softly and hid his face in his hands. “Don’t make me say it, it's so embarrassing." 

"What is?" he asked, frowning softly. Was there a need to be concerned?

Chan whined and spoke in a single breath. "Ireallylikewhenyougointofullleadermodeduringdancepractice," he mumbled out. 

"You what?" Minho asked, blinking softly. 

"I really like when you go into full leader mode during dance practice," he confessed and chewed on his lower lip. “Its really hot seeing you take charge,”

"Oh, you do?" he asked with a hint of fake curiosity, remembering Felix had mentioned this before. Chan nodded and covered his cheeks, blushing in slight embarrassment. "How much, Mr. I'm always in control?" he asked, intrigued to know the answer. He kept his eyes locked onto his to see his next move

“Way too much,” he confessed shyly and dropped to his knees in front of his chair. Minho raised his eyebrows at him as Chan rested his chin on his knees, gazing up at him with soft, pleading eyes. 

“Stop looking at me like that, love. You’re gonna make me hard,” he told him with a chuckle, brushing Chan’s curls back. Gosh, this man looked good with his natural curly hair and bare face. He loved the sight of Chan on his knees, practically begging for attention. The fact that he was wearing his sweater didn’t help either.

“Why don’t you continue working, and I’ll take care of it?” Chan proposed, a grin stretching his lips once Minho gave in, knowing he’d lose out on any chance of working later if he wouldn’t let him have his way now.

Minho really tried to focus on his work, he did. But with Chan beneath the table, pulling down his sweatpants enough to pull his dick out, it was a little challenging. Chan didn’t waste any time, licking up his shaft and twirling his tongue around the tip. His eyes fluttered close as Chan started taking him into his mouth, giving himself time to adjust to him and take him in deeper. Minho’s lips parted with a gasp as Chan took him in deeper, tongue massaging his dick perfectly. “Feels so good, Channie,” he let him know, panting as he felt the warm, wetness of his mouth close around him. Once Chan had gotten comfortable enough, he started bobbing his head in a steady rhythm, and Minho’s hand shot down to bury itself in his hair. “Fuck,” he sighed and dropped his pen on the desk, giving up on his work. This was so much better. He adjusted in his seat a bit more comfortably.

Chan suddenly pulled back and looked up at him with dilated pupils. He massaged his thighs, smiling up at him lovingly. “Fuck, you sound beautiful,” he told him, and Minho blushed. “You think you can keep quiet while I touch you some more, kitten?” he asked, and Minho nodded quickly, immediately melting at the pet name. Chan’s thumb brushed Minho’s lips before pushing two fingers into his mouth. Minho moaned softly and sucked at them eagerly, covering them in his spit as Chan kept on rubbing his thigh teasingly. Chan proceeded to pull Minho’s sweatpants down further and, grabbing his thighs, pulled him forward in his chair. 

Minho cursed softly as Chan took him back into his mouth and started pushing one finger into him at the same time. He gripped his curls tightly and shivered at the groan that left Chan’s throat at his action. Minho melted into his chair and relaxed fully into the feeling of Chan opening him up. Not too much time passed before Chan was buried four fingers deep into his lover. He had his legs resting on his shoulders, one hand gripping the armrest and the other one guiding Chan’s head up and down his length. Minho’s head fell back with a whiny moan as he hit the back of his throat, and he couldn’t help but moan Chan’s name loudly. 

Chan gently squeezed his thigh, signaling him to be quiet, and moaned around his dick deliciously. He was enjoying the pull on his hair and the strangled sounds he pulled from him. Chan tried to pull back, but Minho held him in place and shook his head. “Don’t stop, Channie,” he told him breathlessly. “Please don’t stop.”

Chan still pulled back and got up, lifting Minho up from the chair. He sat down in the chair with him on his lap and kissed him hungrily. “I tried my best,” he told him, and Minho giggled sweetly. “But you’re driving me crazy.”

“As usual,” Minho chuckled and kissed him hard as he reached down between them, pulling Chan’s dick from his pants. “Lube,” he told him, and Chan reached into his drawer to take the small bottle out. 

“You keep that right next to the keys to the dance room?” he laughed. 

“I have no secrets,” he shrugged with a chuckle, and took the bottle from him, flicking the cap open. Minho shifted a little, adjusting his weight on his lower body, but contorted his face at the sharp pain shooting through his knee. Chan noticed from the corner of his eye and lifted him up again, standing up with him in his arms. He pushed Minho’s notes aside and sat him down at the edge of the table. Minho looked at him and lovingly caressed his cheek as he captured his lips in a kiss. He had never felt as safe and cared for as when he’s with Chan. It was perfect. Minho grabbed a condom from the drawer and rolled it over Chan’s dick.

“Just try to relax, okay?” he mumbled into the kiss after spreading some lube over his dick. Minho hummed softly and took a couple deep breaths. Chan started pushing into him slowly. 

Once he was fully buried inside him, Minho wrapped his legs loosely around Chan’s waist. Chan grabbed his thigh, making sure to steady his injured leg, and braced himself on the table behind Minho. Minho wrapped one arm around his neck, burying his hand in his curls, and braced himself right next to him, fingertips touching. Minho moaned sweetly as soon as he started moving and kissed him passionately, trying to stifle his moans. 

It didn’t help much since Chan also started moaning at the feeling of being inside him. They moved in sync, moaning into each other’s mouths, chasing the other’s lips. Minho arched into him and moved his hand up to grip his sweater right between his shoulders. Minho pulled up the fabric between his fingers, his head falling back as Chan kissed down his neck. He pulled at his curls, making him moan against his skin, and smiled blissfully at the feeling. 

“Fuck, kitten,” Chan whispered against his skin and thrust into him deep. 

Minho stopped caring about his volume; he was already too far gone. He held Chan close as their bodies melted together in pure bliss. The two men pressed their foreheads together. Their breaths mingled as their noses brushed against each other, hair sticking to their flesh. “Channie,” he whispered sweetly in his ear.

“Min, baby,” Chan whispered back softly. He still couldn’t believe he gets to see Minho so vulnerable and open for him. He was a different kind of pretty in moments like these. It was addicting. The two were so focused on each other that they didn’t hear the small tapping on the door, followed by it opening slowly.

“Minho, do you have a moment?” Felix asked while walking in, but his eyes widened at the sight in front of him. 

“Bad moment, Lixie,” Minho breathed out, not even giving a fuck about him catching them in the act. Chan felt too damn good inside of him right now, and Felix had seen him naked before. His head fell back with a loud moan as Chan’s dick finally tapped his prostate with a particular thrust, and he gripped the sweater tightly.

“Oh fuck, sorry! “ he rambled and quickly covered his ears, closing his eyes and stumbling back outside. Felix blushed heavily as he closed the door and covered his face in his hands. 

“I should really learn how to knock,” he groaned at himself and stood still in the hallway for a moment, trying to push away the vivid images. He didn’t fully succeed, almost feeling a little jealous at how in sync and in love those two had just seemed in that moment. The way they solely focused on each other’s pleasure. Just like earlier at the practice room before the rest had joined them…and even during practice. These two just fit together perfectly. Sometimes, he longed for Binnie to look at him like that and hold him close like that without him initiating it. He shook his head at himself, pushing those thoughts away. He was happy, after all. He sighed once more and went to his room.

“Will you ever learn to -ohh fuck- lock the door?” Minho breathed out between moans.

“Has he ever heard of knocking?” Chan asked breathlessly.

“He never does,” Minho giggled, and his eyes fluttered close with a soft whimper. “Channie, I’m so close.”

Chan was about to answer before his hips suddenly stilled, and he came with a groan of his name. He bit down on Minho’s shoulder to stifle his sounds, and Minho came on the spot, spilling all over his sweater. They spent a little bit in each other’s arms, catching their breath. Once ready, Chan pulled out of him gently, took the condom off, and threw it into the bin beneath the desk. He tucked himself back into his pants before taking the sweater off and using it to clean Minho up. “Sorry,” he laughed and kissed him gently.

Minho giggled against his lips and let Chan help him out of his own sweater. Chan got some fresh clothes from his drawers and helped him get dressed. Minho’s hands gently roamed Chan’s bare chest as he kissed him afterwards. He pulled Chan with him to his closet and looked through his things. While they find time to meet for sex, Minho always takes Chan’s dirty clothes and washes them, keeping them safe in his room for times such as these. His fingertips brushed over the small box hidden behind his shirts, and he smiled, thinking of the bracelet he had bought for Chan as a surprise resting there for now. “There you go,” he smiled and handed him a shirt.

“This is mine?” he giggled, raising his eyebrow at his lover.

“I know,” he grinned.

“You’ve been stealing my clothes?” he asked, amused, and pulled the shirt over his head. 

“Maybe,” he said innocently and closed the closet again. “They smell like you, you know. It’s comforting.”

Chan’s face softened, and he took his hands. “You’re so adorable, kitten.” Minho hummed, satisfied, and Chan kissed his nose. “Kissing you all those months ago has been the best decision I’ve made in a while.”

Minho blushed a little and pulled him close. “Allowing you to do so has definitely been one of my brightest moments,” he nodded giggling. “I don’t regret it at all”.

Chan smiled sweetly, but then suddenly started laughing. The memory of Felix walking into the room still very fresh. "How could you be so unbothered by Felix walking in on us?" 

"You're pretty amazing at what you do. I wasn't really thinking about it," he shrugged his shoulders, making Chan laugh even more. "But still, Felix has seen all of me. It isn’t really a shock anymore." 

"Mhm, fair point. It's not like he hasn't caught me before as well. It's always Felix, isn't it?" he groaned softly. 

"Felix knows and has seen too much," he nodded. "I’d better go look for him and ask what he wants." 

"Leaving me already?" he pouted, not wanting to let Minho go just yet. 

"Come on, you big baby," he giggled, pulling him with him. Minho went down the hallway, knocking on Felix's door. "Sorry, Lix, toddler alert," he joked as they stepped into his space. But his face fell seeing him sitting against his headboard, hugging a pillow as tears ran down his cheeks. "Yongbokie, what's wrong?" he asked worriedly, climbing onto his bed. "We didn't traumatize you, did we?" he joked. 

Felix laughed through tears and rolled his eyes. "Of course not," he groaned. "Sorry for interrupting. I should've knocked." 

"Forget about that," Chan said, sitting down on Felix's other side. "What's wrong, mate?" 

"Nothing, I'm just being stupid," he told them, sniffing softly. 

"That happens sometimes," Minho winked at him and gently squeezed Felix's hand. "But this isn’t one of those times. Come on, sunshine, what's going on?" 

"I just really missed Changbinnie these past two weeks," he told them and sniffled softly. Changbin had been back at home before being abroad for a few promotional things and advertisements. "I really hoped we could cuddle or spend time together when he comes back, but he told me he just wants to unpack and take a nap afterward. And I…I don't know. I'm feeling lonely and touch starved, but Jisung and Hyunjin are busy practicing, and Seungmin and Jeongin are already off cuddling each other somewhere." 

Chan hummed gently and wrapped his arm around him, rubbing his shoulder. "And that upset you?" 

Felix nodded, and Minho searched his eyes. "I'm sure Changbin didn't mean to upset you. We all know how tired and grumpy he gets after a flight," he calmed him. 

"I know. As I said, I'm being stupid," he sighed and messily wiped his cheeks with his sleeve. 

Minho handed him a tissue and shook his head. "You're not being stupid, Lixie." 

Chan gently ruffled through his hair. "You know you can come to us for a cuddle whenever you need it." 

"He probably wanted to," Minho pointed out, and they all started laughing. "Are you still feeling lonely and touch-starved?" 

Felix nodded timidly at him. Minho felt the tug at his heartstrings, looking at his big, teary eyes. 

"You know what? I'll share Channie with you today," he offered, making his hyung snort. "Cuddles only, of course." 

"Min," Felix protested weakly and hit his arm, giggling. 

Chan rolled his eyes softly before moving between them, lying down, and letting Minho cuddle to his side comfortably. "Come on, Felix." 

Minho gently patted Chan's chest, and Felix took the hint, making himself comfortable on top of Chan. Minho lazily wrapped his arm around him as Chan covered them all with Felix's blanket. Chan soothingly rubbed Felix's back before moving his hand up to play with his hair. His other arm was draped around Minho's waist, hands intertwined on his hip. Minho lovingly fondled Felix's cheek for a moment. "Is this better, sunshine?" 

"Yeah," Felix nodded, smiling softly. 

Chan relaxed as they soon fell asleep in his arms, and he smiled. He didn't take long to drift off as well, and his head sank against Minho's, searching for him even in his sleep. 

-

Felix woke up later, somehow cuddled between them as Chan had turned onto his side in his sleep. Minho and Chan were hugging him from both sides, their legs all intertwined. Minho had his face buried in his shirt between his shoulders whilst Chan's face was buried in his hair. Felix hadn't felt that warm and comfortable in a long while and closed his eyes again, deciding to enjoy the much-needed feeling a little longer. 

-

Minho woke up a little later, carefully letting go of him and stretching his body tiredly. Felix turned to face him and flashed him a tired smile. Minho reached for Felix's phone to check the time and saw a few messages from Changbin. "I think your boyfriend's waiting for you," he told him quietly, and Felix's eyes lit up. "I'll wake him up. You go get your cuddles." Minho whispers as he goes to wake up Chan.

"Let him sleep," he waved him off. "He needs it." Felix slowly got out of bed and made his way towards the door, opening it carefully to slip out of the room.

Minho smirked and watched him leave before slipping into Chan's arms. He buried his face in his chest, inhaling his scent, and relaxed. "I love you, Channie," he whispered into his shirt and smiled as Chan scooted closer to him in his sleep. Gosh, this man was cuddly. Minho beamed softly. He would've never thought that someone would love and appreciate him as Chan did. 

-

Chan woke up later with a yawn and chuckled softly as he looked down, seeing Minho curled up in his arms. He leaned down, brushing back his hair and kissing his head. Minho cuddled even closer in response, signaling he was somewhat awake. "Feeling comfy, kitten?" 

"Very," he answered sleepily. "You slept alright?" Chan hummed in response. "Felix went to see Changbin. We thought we'd let you get some sleep." 

"My insomnia says thank you," he snorted, and Minho giggled sweetly. 

The door opened, and Felix stepped inside, looking a lot happier than before. "Glad to see you two finally awake. Are you coming down to help with dinner?" 

"Sure thing," Chan nodded and got up with him, stretching out his limbs. 

Minho gave him a soft kiss and hugged him close for another moment. "Cuddle session this evening?" 

"Sounds perfect," Chan nodded happily and kissed his forehead.

-

Jeongin looked at Chan curiously as they were preparing dinner a bit later. "What exactly have you two been doing behind closed doors recently? It’s like you’re always disappearing." 

"Wh-What? Who?" Chan asked in shock, his eyes widening. 

"You and Minho hyung," he answered with an eyebrow raise. 

Hyunjin giggled. "Maybe they're secretly in love," he smirked. Minho had to bite back a grin at that assumption. 

Minho quickly lowered his head and continued drying the dishes. A huge kitchen like that had its perks. And sometimes, his group members completely forgot he was there too, standing in front of the stove far away from him. This way, no one realized they could be bothering him with questions too. 

"Secret lovers?" Felix laughed, and the thought made his eyes shine bright. If they only knew how close they were to the truth. He met Minho's eyes across the room for a moment and held back a laugh. Jisung desperately tried not to laugh as well and disappeared into a cabinet with his head, pretending to search for a pan and holding in his giggles.

"Can you imagine our hyungs hooking up? Would that officially make them our parents?" Seungmin threw in, and Changbin shouted in protest. 

"Married with six kids," Jeongin added and glanced over at their dinner in preparation. 

"How do you all even come up with this stuff?" Chan asked playfully, laughing and rolling his eyes. 

But Minho  couldn’t help but frown softly. It wasn't like they had been hiding it that well. Of course, their group members would notice them spending way more time together than before, and oftentimes in their rooms. Minho let Chan hug him more openly than before, and just last night, they cuddled during the movie night. Also, he doubted he and Chan had been that quiet all those times they took a little risk and had sex. Like today. Things have been going on for almost a year, after all.

"You two just seem to have gotten closer recently," Jisung explained. 

"Well, you know he's been trying to cheer me up lately," he answered. 

One way to put it, Minho thought to himself and gathered some plates. He needed more space to continue cleaning. 

"Yeah, but-." 

"Nothing happened. Have you seen Minho? I call myself lucky when I get a hug from him, or when he doesn't pull his hand away from mine," Chan said, and Minho froze in place. His ears couldn’t help but to tune into the conversation. "He's not exactly the warm boyfriend material I'd need. And no, we didn't kiss either," he tried to play it cool, forgetting for a moment that Minho was right there hearing everything. 

His heart shattered at his comment, and he began to grow pale. Was he being serious? Felix and Jisung looked over at him with concern and exchanged a short look. Minho put down the plates a little too loud, making everyone flinch and turn toward him. "Is that what you think about me when you think I'm not listening? That I'm cold? Unloving? Unaffectionate?" 

Chan's face fell, as all the color drained from his skin while simultaneously allowing a deep red to settle on his neck and cheeks. "Minho," he breathed out in shock and got a raised eyebrow in return. Fuck. 

The others looked back and forth between them anxiously, unsure of what was happening. "I can tell you what happened," Minho said, and Chan opened his mouth in protest, but the look in Minho's eyes made him stop. "We kissed quite a lot actually. At least when he wasn't busy shoving his dick in my ass." 

"Minho!" Chan burst out as the rest looked at him in amusement and pure disbelief. "We had an agreement," he whispered. 

"Listen up Chan, it's one thing to pretend that nothing is going on between the two of us and staying away from you in public. That's what I agreed to," he said, his eyes never tearing away from Chan’s. "But I won't lie to the people I call my family anymore. Especially not after what you just said." 

"I-I freaked out, okay, I didn't mean it," he tried to save himself, stomach turning painfully. Changbin stared at them in shock, slowly connecting the dots before looking at Felix, who just shook his head firmly. Not now. 

"It sure sounded like you did," Minho said sadly, and a wave of fear washed over him. Had Chan felt like this about him all this time? Had it just been the sex and the thrill of affection that kept him around? Whatever it was, he didn’t want to hear it right now. "I'm done with this.”

“Baby,” Chan spoke up and calmingly held up his hands. “Come on, let’s talk this out.”

“Save it, Chan. I won't let you toy around with me like that," he said firmly and opened the cabinet above his head, putting the plates inside.

"Toy around? Is that what you think I was doing?" he asked, growing defensive. "Maybe it was you who used me. You practically threw yourself onto me when I gave you the chance. And you've been hovering since that damn night a few months ago," Chan said, trying to get himself out of the line of fire. 

Minho's face fell, and Jisung was in shock at how hurt he looked. "Threw myself - Are you fucking kidding me?" he shouted suddenly, and everyone flinched, slowly backing away from Chan to continue watching from the sidelines. 

“Oh shit,” Seungmin breathed out, and Jeongin exchanged a worried glance with him. Minho sure lost his temper a lot lately with Chan, but not like this. Especially not in front of them. 

"I risked my life to get to you that night because of your stupid message. I held you when you felt like you were falling apart. And I was the one showing you how much you're worth since you can't see that for yourself. You kissed me first, dumbass! I didn't plan on kissing you two nights after, only to have sex the next morning. And I sure as hell didn't plan on doing it again and again over the next eleven months, sneaking around behind everyone's back!" Minho aggressively slammed the cabinet closed, making Chan flinch a little.

"You didn't risk your life," Chan gave back weakly, completely overwhelmed by Minho’s sudden outburst. He fucked up big time, and he was stuck on how to fix it. 

Minho glared at him. "You, out of everyone here, should know how much I have a fear of heights. And still, I climbed over to your balcony." 

"I didn't ask you to!" Chan burst out, feeling like he was being pushed into a corner. 

"I didn't ask you to leave us all behind either, but that's what you wanted to do! You didn't just give up on yourself, you gave up on those you swore to protect. And you gave up on me! You gave up on us, Chan, and still, I stayed by your fucking side because I was too scared to lose you," he gave back just as loudly. But seeing Chan's face, he knew he said too much. Oh, shit. 

"Wait a minute, Chan did what?" Changbin spoke up, confused. Minho stared at Chan, who slowly shook his head. 

"Min, baby, please-," he begged quietly. 

"Stop calling me that," Minho said firmly. 

"Minho, don't," Chan pressed out, anxiously glancing at the others. They can’t know he had been feeling like shit lately. They can’t know he had been ready to give up and quit that night. 

"Hey! What the fuck happened?" Changbin cut them off, deciding to step in and get some answers.

"He accidentally sent his goodbye message to me. That's why I climbed out there; my fear of losing him was bigger than that stupid balcony. Turns out he was thinking about quitting on us and leaving the team behind, saying I’d do just fine as your new leader," Minho said, and his voice trembled, seeing betrayal flash in Chan's eyes. "I'm sorry, Chan, but they should know. I’ve been telling you for weeks now to be honest-."

"Fuck you," Chan said barely above a whisper. "You promised me you wouldn’t tell them," he said, clearly hurt. Now it was all out in the open. Him almost giving up. His feelings for Minho and everything that had followed those past few months. Minho let it all out, taking away his chance to tell the truth at his own pace. 

"Well, you promised you'd fight for us. So I guess we both lied," he said tiredly, hoping the conversation would finally end and he could disappear. He just wanted to hide in his room and avoid everyone. But the way Chan's eyes suddenly darkened, he knew it wasn’t over. If there was one thing he had learned about his hyung, it was that you shouldn't piss him off. Being pushed into a corner could make him snap within seconds. 

"You know what, maybe I did mean it. Maybe I meant every word I said. You are cold, Minho. You obviously don’t give a shit about my feelings and the promise you made to me. I should've known from the beginning you'd fuck me over and tell everyone about what happened because you can’t keep a secret. Stop acting like you didn't want me to fuck you so you could finally not be so fucking alone anymore and feel like you're worth something. You enjoy having someone tell you you’re not what everyone else says you are, huh? Makes you feel like a better person for once, you sassy asshole?" Chan spat out, panting heavily once the last word fell from his lips. But the moment he said it, he regretted it. He covered his mouth with his hand, unable to follow his thought process of producing such hateful words. What the fuck had he done? 

“Excuse me?” he whispered and took a step back, bringing some distance between them. Minho's eyes filled with tears, lips trembling as he tried to regain his composure. Minho could feel his heart breaking, feeling sick and disoriented. 

Chan had never seen him that hurt before and losing his composure in front of the rest. Minho never did, not wanting the younger ones to worry about him. 

"Chan, what the fuck?" Felix spoke up in pure shock and gently took Jisung's hand, which was trembling, as he stepped behind him. Jeongin and Seungmin practically hid behind Changbin and Hyunjin, who stared at their hyungs, unable to comprehend what just happened. 

“Chan, dude,” Changbin contorted his face and took a step toward Minho. “Minho hyung, he clearly didn’t mean it. There's no way any of us would think that about yo-.” he stopped as Minho held his hand up.

"So you're finally being honest with me," he chuckled and closed his eyes for a moment, putting down the towel he had been drying the dishes with. "Oh, Channie love, I'll show you just how much of an asshole I can be," he said, words dripping with disgust. Minho suddenly took a step forward and slapped Chan forcefully, making his head turn to the side. 

Chan placed his hand on his cheek in pure shock as the others gasped, surprised. "What the fuck?" Chan breathed out. 

"You're the only asshole here. I hope you had fun pretending you liked me or seen anything beyond a way to let off steam," he said shakily as tears ran down his cheeks. There was no use in hiding how hurt he was. Chan had torn his walls down and sent an arrow straight into his heart.

"Did you just hit me?" he asked in pure disbelief. 

"Yes, I fucking did!" Minho yelled at him. "You just broke my fucking heart! You'll get over it." 

Chan blinked and slowly pulled his hand off his cheek. The full weight of Minho's words slowly sunk in and he grew incredibly pale, his hands starting to shake. "Minho," he whispered timidly. "I'm so sorry." 

"Fuck you, Chan, seriously," he sobbed out and smacked his chest forcefully. Chan let him, not defending himself, as Minho lost his composure and broke down. It broke him seeing Minho like this, and the fact that he caused it feels even worse.

"Minho stop," Hyunjin said, stepping forward and pulling Chan away from him. "Come on, you're better than this." 

"Come here," Felix spoke up softly as he carefully wrapped his arms around him from behind and pulled him away from Chan, looking at his friend in shock.

Minho covered his mouth with his hand and let Felix pull him back. He didn't know if he was more hurt or angry right now. He felt betrayed on so many levels, becoming too hard to differentiate these emotions. "I believed you," he pressed out. 

"You shouldn't have," Chan whispered, tears burning in his eyes. 

He hiccuped as tears kept flowing. “You told me not to believe in all the things they said about me and bullshit rumors that were going to spread about us.”

"I'm sorry, Min," Chan pressed out weakly. "I'm an asshole, and you deserve better." 

"Stop it, just fucking stop it! Please…" Minho shook his head and felt his heart breaking apart. He should’ve never believed in a happy ending for them. He shouldn't have believed him saying he'd fight for them. He shouldn't have believed him when he said haters were lying and Minho wasn't anything like what they said. 

"Minho hyung, let's take a break and-," Seungmin started but stopped as Minho gently shook Felix off, grabbed his phone from the table, and turned around. He didn't look at his friends as he passed them. Hyunjin tried to hold him back, but he just shook him off, holding back a sob. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Felix snapped at Chan. "How could you say something like that?"

"Felix, easy now," Changbin tried to calm his boyfriend. It wasn't like Minho walked away innocently from this. 

"No, why would you defend that? We all saw it happen!" Felix asked him, highly irritated. 

"Felix," Minho cut him off sharply. "That's my mess, not yours. Leave it be."

"Minho, can we talk? Alone?" Chan asked with tears in his eyes. His breathing was uneven and shaky, trying to hold back a sob. There was an imprint of Minho's hand on his cheek, his lips quivered and for a second Minho hesitated, seeing the damage he caused him. 

He couldn't leave him there crying, could he? Not when he was the only one taking care of him whenever he did. But then again…he couldn't comfort him. Not now, not after all he’s done. "Fuck you, I won't be listening to any more of your lies," Minho said firmly before walking upstairs. 

Chan didn't dare to raise his head until Minho's door slammed closed. He could barely meet his group members' eyes as he swallowed hard. "I'm sorry," he whispered and blinked back tears. "I'm so sorry, fuck," he buried his face in his hands as a sob shook his entire body. The moment Jeongin wrapped his arms around him, heavily shaking himself, Chan's stomach turned. He didn't deserve any comfort right now. Not after what he did to Minho, his love. A few moments later, they all were by his side, too shocked about what Minho had revealed to think of anything else. 

"You're so fucking stupid sometimes, Chan," Changbin said and shook his head at him. “What the fuck was that about?”

"I promise I can explain everything," Chan said shakily and swallowed hard. 

Felix cleared his throat and met Chan's eyes. "I love you, Channie, I really do…but what you just said to him was fucked up on so many levels. You need to fix this. And fast. I can't leave him alone like that," Chan nodded in agreement and let the others pull him to the sofa to sit down. 

"I'll join you," Jisung said, very disturbed about Chan's outburst. 

Chp. 6 | Chp. 8

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/ removed from the taglist)

@soullostinspaceandtime @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies

[ladymarycrawley]

What if I’d ask you out  part 2 - Mason Mount

Request: some of you asked me to write the second part to this fic and here it is!

I hope you enjoy it @primadxna-girl @jessmountsmason (I also put in your Jaz and Lewis matchmaking request as i thought it would combine well. Tell me whad you think!)  @prideofpd​ (here there’s the good amount of goofy, sexy mason you needed)💖

Warning: smutty in the end

Tag list: @masonxomount​ @chelsealover​ @masterclassbaby

The desire to see you was so strong that he'd have gone blind just to see you.

The only thing he could picture in his mind was how good you'd have looked with whatever outfit you'd have chosen. Your presence was the only thing that mattered to him, now that he was finally able to ask you out.

Mason only wanted that night to be perfect, you and him sharing the same wish. 

While his stare was focused on the full-lenght mirror before him, adjusting his clothes, his mind went to think how bad his brothers, Jaz and Lewis, had been trying to set him with you, that mthought making him giggle. They would be so proud to know you would have finally listened to them.

"You are perfect for each other, why don't you see that??" Jaz sounded rather desperate trying to get her little brother to open his eyes in how good of a match you would've been for him. "She's incredibly pretty, she's nice…what else do you need to fall in love?"

“Yeah Mase, you’re wasting your time ignoring that” Lew would always echo his sister’s words, pleading her cause.

He'd always react a bit annoyed at their words, even though deep inside he knew  they were right.

They had been trying to leave you alone all the time, whether it was a restaurant or after a game you went watching with them, but nothing really happened. 

-

“Well, I’ll pick you up at 7 then…don’t make me wait!”

“It’s called being fashionably late!”

A smile crept up on your face as your mind went back to that little bantering you had the day before. 

Only God knew how anxious you were to meet him for the first time as something more than just his good friend. 

As you put your things in your purse, you prayed everything would go smoothly, without it being too embarassing or, worse, something that could ruin your friendship.

Mason's mind, on his part, was wandering towards the whole conversation you shared the previous day: from the jab on whether you'd like to sleep with each other to the sense of loneliness, of loss he felt deep in his heart when you threatened to leave the training ground. 

He couldn't get enough of you, that's the truth. 

Mid September's crisp air urged you to opt for a quite covering look but not least fashionable for being so: a cozy coarse knitted sweater matched with a ruffled mini skirt; the whole outfit complemented by a pair of knee-high leather heeled boots

Mason, who was particularly sensitive to cold, chose a cozy knitwear garment too with matching dark trousers and designer trainers.

 "Hey"

"Hey" He smiled, the softest smile ever as he shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets, in a way that conveyed shyness but also happiness for finally being in your presence.

"Hope I didn't kept you waiting for too long" You sort of excused yourself with those words, as you took your seat by his side in his glamorous sports car.

"Nah, just half an hour" He chuckled, looking out of the window.

You blushed violently, your eyes wide open.

"Ehm - half an hour?!"

"Yeah but it's fine"

"I thought we arranged to meet at 7, it's 7:05"

"I was joking Y/N, relax" His chuckle became a little louder, making you roll your eyes. You fastened your seat belt, huffing.

He was trying to act cool but in fact he was so eager to see you he left the house way sooner the time you had planned.

"You're incredible, Mount"

"I'll take it as a compliment" He said, setting the car in motion.

After that playful banter a comfortable yet meaningful silence fell between the two of you, the only audible thing was the radio blasting Sex by the 1975. 

As soon as the lyrics started resonating through the vehicle, a deep tension started forming. You tried to distract yourself looking out of the window, your hand partially hiding the side of your face that could have been easily deciphered by Mason, biting on your forefinger to prevent any weird facial expression.

Mason tried to keep his stare on the road in a desperate attempt not to fall in the temptation to look at how your skirt's pleats would cherish your bare legs.

"And she said use your hands and my spare time

We got one thing in common it's this tongue of mine

She said she's got a boyfriend anyway"

Mason cleared his throat, trying to cough the tension away while you would try to relax in your seat, with a deep sigh.

"You look really good tonight"

"Thanks…"

You weren't used to him complimenting you, as most of your conversations were based on jokes and sarcastic remarks. So you didn't know how to take it: was he serious? Or was he subtly making fun of you?

"I mean it" You blurted your eyes at his words because it was as if he could read what just crossed your mind, being aware of what your concern was.

"Are you sure?" You giggled.

"Yeah, I mean you're always pretty…" He blushed, scratching his beard.

You smiled, quite happy with where that talk was going.

"Well you’re kinda cute too"

"Kinda?"

"Okay, you're the most handsome man I've ever laid my eyes on. Happy now??"

Mason grinned, as he was satisfied that he finally got you to say those words he had been dying to hear from you for so long.

"Much better, even though you're lying"

"I'm not lying, you really are very handsome"

Mason swallowed hard, it was getting unbearably hot in that car.

Gladly you had nearly arrived at the restaurant he booked for your first date so he just pulled up as he couldn't control his instinct anymore: he took your face in his hands to start kissing you with all the passion he had piled up inside of him, which was a lot.

You were expecting for him to kiss you that night but you would never have imagined it would be like that, so passionate, so overwhelming. 

It was as if your lips were made for each other, they would fit perfectly.

It didn't feel like your first kiss at all, on the contrary it felt as if you've spent all your life together, practicing for that moment.

Your lips and your tongues were dancing around in a sinuous way, in a sensual fight.

When you let a moan escape your lips, Mason kissed you harder, if that was possible, slipping his hand under the hem of your skirt, his cold palm flat on your thigh skin.

Your hand would let go of his face to go exploring his broad neck. His body felt so perfect under your touch, you could never have thought it would be like that, not even in your dirtiest dreams.

When he broke the kiss to get some air, his mouth was dangerously close to your ear so he panted right close to it. That sent shivers down your spine, making you moan back. It was all so hot, he was so hot.

"God"

"That was good"

"So fucking good" You giggled, resting your head on his shoulder. 

"I've been waiting for it for too long"

"How long?" You looked up at him, before pressing a peck on that vein making his neck so irresistible.

"Too long"

The time you spent apart was too much you needed to make up for it. It was as if you finally found yourselves and didn't have the faintest idea of letting go of each other. You were hungry, needy for each other as the next kiss you shared showed: your tongues were fighting for dominance, wanting to prevail on the other to demonstrate who was hungrier. 

Even the moment you spent apart, trying to catch your breath with your eyes closed and your hot breaths against each other’s lips, was magic.

"I don't have a boyfriend though" You joked, referring to the song that was to blame for your passionate make out session.

"Well, so I can apply for that?"

"You'll have to make the cut first" You grinned cheekily, nipping his lower lip gently.

"Oh is it hard?"

"So damn hard…don't make any stupid joke, Mount" You warned him about the two-way joke you were sure he was about to crack.

He giggled against your lips before kissing you again. He was insatiable, leaving lusty bites over your lips to which you would answer to by sucking on his tongue in the most sinful way.

"God am I so predictable?"

"A bit but that's because I know you too well now…as if I've known you all my life"

His lips attracted you to him like a magnet. From all the kissing your lips were a bit swollen and red but you couldn't care at all as you'd have stayed there in his arms forever.

Mason smiled against your lips, as his mind went back to his brothers for the second time that night: the satisfied expressions that would have appeared on their faces, stressing how many times they told him to date you, made him smile proudly and that didn't go unnoticed by you.

"What?"

"Nothing…I'm just happy"

"Shut up Mount" You straddled him, moaning when you felt his hard bulge pressing against your core.

"You're so needy for me…"

"You bet"

"You know you're giving me a lot of things to tease you about later?" He smirked, moving your panties to the side to squeeze your butt cheek. 

You rolled your eyes, going on sucking on the tight skin of his neck, trying to ignore his words that at the moment were just useless sounds his mouth was emitting. 

"I guess you're not hungry anymore" He said, hinting at the restaurant that was waiting for you.

"You just want me to tell you I'm hungry for you, to boost your ego"

Mason moaned against your lips, his fingers rubbing against your wet folds.

You had so much to catch up on the restaurant booking took a back seat, the months of repressed tension yoy had to release were much more important…

[hekateinhell]

I'm back as promised with fluffy post-canon Armand & Louis headcanons because I need them, so you're going to get them whether you need them or not. 🖤

In RoA and BC, it's pretty much implied that Armand only comes to court to be closer to Louis and keep an eye on Lestat since there's always something going on. I imagine post-canon things are a lot more settled and he retreats back to Trinity Gate as much as he can, which means Louis goes back and forth a lot when he needs a break from the château.

They don't have a strict visitation schedule per se, but Louis knows it's time when they're on the phone and Armand quietly says something like, "We went to the opera today; you would have loved it." And it's very clear that what he wants to say is, "I would have loved it if you had been there with me." But he's not going to be demanding, that's not who he is with Louis.

Trinity Gate as a coven house is rather busy most of the time, very different when it was just Armand, Louis, and B & S; neither Louis nor Armand prefer to be in the spotlight like Lestat. And as much as Louis needs a reprieve from court life and being Lestat's emotional support animal, Armand also needs a break from being the ever-on-alert guardian and caregiver at Trinity Gate. It's necessary for both of them to have that time away and decompress with someone who can relate to what they're going through (worrying over Lestat; having so much of their identity wrapped up in who they are to other people).

Shortly after the events of BC, Armand purchased a beautiful old renovated Victorian property by Sleepy Hollow, New York (Louis surprisingly never gets tired of making a deadpan Headless Horseman joke whenever it comes up, beating Lestat to the punch). It's exactly an hour's drive from Trinity Gate, so it's easy for Armand to meet Louis when he arrives via Armand's private jet and they head off for a few days.

The Sleepy Hollow house is their special place together. In some ways, this is the first time they can authentically recreate the early days of their relationship under much better circumstances—their "gentle intimacy"—without the ever-present distraction of fledglings coming and going and the earlier threats of Burnings in the 2000s.

They both have an inclination to want to retreat from the world at times, so for Armand being away from the overstimulation that is millions of minds in NYC and for Louis having a complete lack of privacy as royal consort at court, a little house miles anyway from anyone else is a much needed sensory reset. A lot less opulent than Trinity Gate and an actual castle, it's truly a smaller, comfortable, and cozy nest that reflects both their combined tastes.

Armand will typically silently opt to don Louis's old sweaters that he's hoarded and now keeps there, and Louis will very intentionally make it a point to wear nothing but clothes Armand's bought for him in years past. It's his way of saying, "This is our time right now."

Away from everyone, it's where Armand feels the freedom to be more vulnerable and passionate and confess how much he misses Louis, how tired he sometimes feels (remember: he's 500 years old and he has yet to go into the earth once, he must be exhausted). The sentiment is mutual—they were a constant in each others' lives for over a combined 10 decades. 

Oftentimes they take mortal naps together, curled up on the sofa in front of Romeo + Juliet with Claire Danes and Leonardo DiCaprio (a movie Louis is said to have watched in TVA) and the artificial candles flickering. Armand's head on Louis's chest and Louis's "long and delicate fingers" tangled in Armand's curls, a green wool blanket that costs more than my rent draped over them both (Armand enjoys being cocooned and he likes to think Louis does too... and he does). ♥️

[thegoblinboy]

Trans Steve

So like I have had this ungodly obsession with a trans Steve who is very secret and undercover. Like not even Robin knows hes trans. I sort of headcannon that his parents arent supportive but like, Mr.Harrington really wanted a son to take over his buisness so if this means the only way possible he will. Of course not everything is available through the 80′s but what Steve is able to get done is done. (Top Surgery and Testosterone) 

But because there isn’t the greatest education for trans people he doesn’t think he can get pregnant. So he ends up having a slip up under some circumstances and hes now currently very sick from morning sickness. But thing is he still wants to stay hidden but he doesn’t want to hurt the baby. So he lies and says that he has the flu to the party and they all believe him.

He is convinced that he can stay well hidden, and he does. He starts to wear way more baggier clothes then what he normally does and he is super dysphoric over the entire pregnancy but he doesn’t want anyone knowing hes pregnant. There is obvious signs like the cravings.

He’ll constantly be sitting next to Argyle when he hangs out with him eating the strangest combinations there is. Argyle simply just accepts it and goes along with the fries dipped in ranch. Of course Robin gets a little suspicious because of course her friend is hiding something.That and he has been wearing way more baggier clothes then normal which isn’t a steve thing to do. So she is worried hes getting self concious of his scars. So what does she do? She sticks Eddie on him because coincedently he has the same ones. 

Steve can’t help himself but laugh when the other tries to give the other a pep talk which just turns into Steve giving Eddie the pep talk. (Literally the boy will be floating for years after this.) But each time someone comes close to guessing Steve confuses them. Literally no one thinks hes pregnant because hes a dude.

Though when he actually starts to pop out more he is having a increasing amount of difficulty hiding. He feels fat and his hands and feet are swollen and he cant stand it. He also gets very dysphoric and hates his clothing. So a conversation happens one day and thats how he finds himself buried in Argyles clothes. They feel like a actual guys clothes and he loves it. Of course Eddie hops in and lets steve wear a bunch of his baggier metallica sweaters. To be honest he just enjoys seeing  the other in his clothes. 

Though now Steve is having a difficult time standing up on his own, so now he tries not to sit. Which obviously fails. He sits and hes very embarrassed when it first happens. He ends up stuck on the munson couch while Eddie was in his room doing god knows what. He really has to pee because of the baby and the only one around to help him is Wayne. Wayne who isn’t dumb. Hes caught onto how strange the harrington boy was acting and cant help but be suspicous. 

Though it all finally clicks in the older mans head when Steves face goes a little pink and hes cradiling his stomach like its a baby. The sweater tightens a little around his middle and right there is a very obvious baby bump. Wayne is shocked and confused and thinks it isnt but he recognizes the signs of pregnancy. Eddies mother had very similar cravings Steve had, she couldn’t stand up on her own. Though he wasn’t sure his suspicions are proven when the boy flinches holding his stomach as if he was kicked. 

Wayne moves over and helps the other up with a knowing look and neither of them say anything. Though Wayne does when they are by themselves because he doesn’t want the boy to go in labor when he was by himself. So now Eddie is very confused as to why his Uncle was jumping up and around as Steves slave when he comes over. 

(I think I might do everyone elses reactions in a part 2 lol, I have been really wanting to write this but this is literally all the energy I can muster up to do) 

[existentialbogwitch]

I had a really weird experience at the doctor yesterday and it’s still bothering me.

I went to talk to her because I’ve been experiencing some physical pain. I’m a musician and at first I thought it was just carpal tunnel and I figured it was just going to be part of my life.

But then the pain got worse. There was a week straight where it was entirely unbearable and hurt all the time. Over my entire body.

My doctor told me it was just stress and trauma and that as I learn to manage my symptoms better the pain will dissipate.

I came to my appointment wearing all black. Some swishy pants I love because they are baggy and they do not feel too tight, a sweater vest I just got that is one of my favorite items of clothing right now, and a regular long sleeve white shirt. I had a black beanie on because I needed to wash my hair and in order to make it to my appointment on time, I had to skip a shower.

My appointment was on my day off and I made it earlier than I originally wanted to because I thought I was going to hang out with a friend after. (This was a mistake and I’m never making a doctors appointment before noon again).

I was also wearing sunglasses and a mask because they insist on using fluorescent lighting in the doctors office and it’s easier for me to manage my anxiety if I’m wearing sunglasses. I was wearing a mask because I don’t want to get sick.

When the doctor comes into the room, the first thing she does is point out the bags under my eyes. And I had to reassure her that I’m fine, I’m just tired because I’m working more and I got up early today and I’m not wearing any makeup.

Then she asked me why I was wearing all black and “what happened” because last time she saw me I was really colorful. I told her I just like black, which is the truth. Also I contain multitudes. I actually really liked my outfit that day and I was kind of hurt that she was so judgmental about it.

However, this doctor has been very kind to me over the past year I’ve been seeing her, and I appreciate her kindness. She has children with autism and is generally very compassionate and empathetic.

But she also makes me feel like a child and it’s weird.

She used the word “quirky” to describe me and other autistic people several times.

She told me about her young son who is into jiu-jitsu but also loves my little pony and powerpuff girls.

She told me how it’s “ok that her son likes these things as long as he doesn’t talk about them at school.” And that’s fair, but it broke my heart.

She gave me a list of doctors to go see about getting my autism diagnosis. And that was helpful.

But I had to fight the urge to tell her that the way she was speaking to me about autism felt uncomfortable.

Every time someone tells me a “solution” to autism symptoms that involve pretending to fit in with other groups of people, I immediately feel gross. Mostly because this is what I’ve been told my whole life. Even before I knew I was autistic.

I’ve always had to be the one to make the effort to change myself so that other people will be more comfortable.

I fully recognize that there are a lot of public spaces where this is necessary for safety reasons and also to be respectful of others.

But pretending I don’t have anxiety so that other people will feel more comfortable? I’m not doing that anymore.

If I’m feeling anxious or angry or sad or any other “big feeling”, I’m going to try to do the best I can to regulate my emotions so they do not control me. And this might involve me needing to leave the situation entirely and be alone. Or if I cannot leave, I will tell people that I am feeling dysregulated and I’m trying to calm down and to please stop talking to me or asking me questions while I’m trying to calm down.

Someone standing in my face and going “you don’t have to be anxious with me.” Is not going to help me.

I’m realizing that my trauma is a lot more severe than I thought and combined with the autism, it’s making it very difficult for me to trust people or talk to anyone because I can no longer discern if someone is being genuinely kind to me because they care or if they are manipulating me.

I’m trying not to feel like “too much” or take up too much space or make other people uncomfortable, but it is very painful for me to have to hide so much of myself.

I wish I had the energy to just write music that could convey my feelings. People will listen to you if you have well produced videos and a social following.

But I am overwhelmed by the dichotomy between expressing my own feelings and being concerned that those feelings could harm others.

A lot of people do not like to hear that their actions have been harmful to me, especially when they had good intentions.

I also do not like hearing when my actions have been harmful to others, especially when I have good intentions.

But I am learning and I’m trying my best.

Not everyone is going to like me, and some people may even hate me. Some people do not want me to exist at all.

(No people directly in my personal life have ever threatened me to my face, but it is difficult to live with family who is invalidating to your experiences and watching conservative propaganda on YouTube constantly.)

I’m waiting for the day that I’m “too weird” for someone and they retaliate.

I’m afraid to go out to public events sometimes out of fear that there might be a shooter.

I think my fear is justified.

I’ve been trying to cultivate more community online and participate in “safe spaces” but it is still difficult sometimes. I’m 37 and I do not have a partner or kids and I live with my family. I’m the kind of autistic, mentally ill person who needs a lot more support than I’m getting and many things are difficult for me.

Sometimes it’s hard for me to relate to people with kids because they use their kids as their reason for being exhausted. I don’t have kids. What’s my excuse? I’m just lazy then I guess?

They never say this to me out loud, but I don’t know what to say to them sometimes and they don’t know what to say to me either.

I’ve lost a lot of friends because no one knows how to talk to me and I don’t really know how to talk to other people either. Unless it’s about music or something else I’m interested in.

A lot of day to day topics are hard for me to talk about because my day to day looks very different from most people my age.

I have to do things in the ways that work for me though, even if it’s different from the “norm.”

I like watching social media accounts featuring other autistic people and how they have learned to live in the world. But I also take this information with a grain of salt because every person is different.

Also if catering to your sensitivities makes you weak, then I don’t want to be strong.

I am really working on releasing some of the shame I feel about the state of my existence, but it is a difficult process.

I feel weird posting this because I’m unsure as to whether I’m doing the right thing by sharing my inner experiences.

Almost every time I post I feel like people are reading it and going “poor girl she should really go to therapy.” Instead of just talking to me like a friend.

And I get it, a lot of people do not have the emotional regulation skills themselves to engage with someone who is suffering.

I think most people could benefit from learning emotional regulation skills.

I’m constantly torn between “there are already enough people in the world shouting things from mountaintops, you don’t need to add to the noise.”

And “if you don’t write about your experiences, they will sit inside you and rot, slowly poisoning you from the inside out.”

So I feel compelled to share because it makes me feel better.

If other people don’t like it, they don’t have to read it.

[unholybinchicken]

bro show us a bit of a wip!! O: (aka 6. for the fandom ask game. only if ur comfortable)

ok

here's a sneak preview the direct to DVD sequel of i love the way you love but i hate the way i'm supposed to love you back

“Well, if you’re not going to learn Na’vi, and if you’re not going to get Brittany to tutor you in math, what else are you going to do?”  Sam asked.  

“I don’t know,” Santana replied, shrugging as she threw a particularly large trash bag into the dumpster.  “I mean, we can’t really go anywhere without seeing people we know, and the only people who know about us are you and Quinn.”

“Oh, so you’re, like, a thing now?”

“Anyone ever tell you that you gossip more than my Tia Rosamaria and Kurt Hummel combined?”  Santana asked.

“Okay, okay, so you can’t be seen in public with her because you’re paranoid.  What other romantic gesture could you do?”  Sam asked.  “Besides steal all her clothes, which I think you’ve probably already done.”

Santana looked down at the sweater she was wearing over her work uniform, which had once been Brittany’s and had a large patch with a cartoon dinosaur on it.  “What do you mean?”

Sam laughed.  “So that’s your sweater then?”

“Well, no, it’s Brittany’s,” Santana said, blushing.  She rolled her eyes as Sam raised an eyebrow at her and added, “I was staying at her house and got cold, so she gave it to me to wear and I just never got around to giving it back to her.”  She saw Sam start to snort with laughter and shoved him.  “Shut up!  It’s warm.”

“Yeah, it’s warm today.  Why are you even wearing it?  You’re going to get heatstroke or something.”

“That’s not even a real thing.”  Santana said.  

“It is, and you’ll be singing a different tune when you get it…”  Sam started, before Irene appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and cleared her throat to interrupt their conversation.

“There was, um,” Santana started, frantically looking at Sam for help as Irene looked at her with a raised eyebrow, pursed lips and a hand on her hip.  She cleared her throat and said, “There was a dumpster emergency.”

“Oh yeah,” Sam lied.  “Um, she needed me to get rid of this huge rat.  You really should have seen it.”

“Right,” Irene said.  She shook her head in frustration and, as she walked off, muttered, “I hope the new hires are less slack than you, Blondie.”

“Wait, new hires?”  Santana asked anxiously.  The very real possibility of Sam being replaced by weird new people [i did not notice this unfinished sentence until now so adding finishing it to my to-do list]

“Yeah, one of them’s starting on Saturday,” Irene said, shrugging.  “It’s too bad you’ve got a dentist appointment, though.  I was kind of hoping you’d be around to train them.”

What dentist appointment?  Santana thought.  I don’t have a dentist appointment.  Saturday, why does that sound so familiar…

“I could do it,” Sam piped up.  “I’ll still be around for a couple more days by then.”

Irene smirked.  “You’re a good man, Blondie.”

As the telephone rang, Irene went to answer it, and Sam went to go and deal with a customer.  Meanwhile, Santana was still stuck on what she was supposed to be doing on Saturday.  It felt important, but she couldn’t for the life of her remember why.  It was nobody’s birthday, there were no family weddings to stress out about, no one had died recently, Sam wasn’t due to leave until after then, she didn’t actually have to go to the dentist and her dentist didn’t work on Saturdays anyway.  For the remainder of her shift, she couldn’t stop thinking about it, stuck on that one detail for hours, until it was finally time to clock off.  The weather had grown significantly warmer and she figured it was probably best to take off her sweater.  She pulled it off and stared at it for a moment, her eyes making brief contact with the dinosaur on the patch before everything came flooding back.

Brittany.  Columbus Pride.

Crap, she thought.

[denimbex1986]

Barbie is everything. He’s just … Robert Oppenheimer.

That’s right. The main character competing with Barbie for attention right now isn’t Ken, her plastic significant other. It’s the man who designed the atomic bomb.

Fans have been waiting for this summer’s release of two movies — “Barbie,” from Warner Bros. and directed by Greta Gerwig, and “Oppenheimer,” from Universal Pictures and directed by Christopher Nolan — which are both coming out on July 21, and they have been poking fun at the stark contrast in the movies’ themes, moods and color schemes.

The result of the release schedule is a mash-up many people may not have seen coming: Barbenheimer. Or Boppenheimer, if you will.

“Oppenheimer” is Nolan’s prestige movie based on “American Prometheus,” a biography of Oppenheimer, the scientist who led the Manhattan Project, which during World War II produced the first atomic bombs. The trailers for that film, with intense music and suspenseful scenes starring a pensive-looking Cillian Murphy as Oppenheimer, are in stark contrast with the pink and sparkly trailers for “Barbie,” which show Margot Robbie as the doll living in Barbieland before setting off on an adventure into the real world.

The two characters could hardly be more different (does this Venn diagram even have a middle?). And yet, Robbie and Murphy are appearing on T-shirts and sweaters together.

Memes, videos and online chatter have flooded social media, and some people are making plans to see the two movies on the same day. A debate about which order to see them in — “Barbie” first to start the day off light, or “Oppenheimer” first, to end on a more cheerful note — hasn’t been settled.

The curious crossover is also giving rise to real-life merchandise. A Google search for “Barbenheimer T-shirt” brings tens of thousands of results, and sellers on Etsy have designed their own versions. Some feature Robbie and Murphy, while others combine Barbie’s pink font with a pink drawing of an atomic cloud.

One such T-shirt, and an early entry in the crowded field, is a simple split-screen combination of the two movie logos, spelling out “Barbenheimer” with the release date of the films.

Hunter Hudson, 23, a filmmaker in San Antonio, said he originally designed and created the shirts for him and his friends to “roll up to the Barbenheimer double feature” on July 21. But when he posted pictures of the shirt on his Twitter feed, he said, it took off beyond his expectations.

“I normally get about three or four likes on anything I post,” Hudson said. But after sharing a few mock-ups of the shirt, he woke up one morning to hundreds of messages from people asking him if they could buy it.

Hudson makes the shirts himself, with a friend, and charges $40. So far he said he had made about 150 shirts, with a second batch of about 70 more on the way. It takes him about 45 minutes to an hour to make one T-shirt, which he does by cutting two shirts in half, pinning them together and sewing and pressing them.

“I had a couple of movie theaters reach out to me privately to do bulk orders for employees,” he said. “It’s been overwhelmingly positive.”

This kind of organic marketing is probably good for both films, said Robert Mitchell, the director of theatrical insights at Gower Street, a company that does predictive analysis for the film industry.

Not that the studios’ marketing has been lacking: There are life-size cardboard Barbie boxes in theaters for people to take pictures and a selfie generator. There have been collaborations with multiple brands: The frozen yogurt chain Pinkberry is offering a Barbie flavor, Gap has a line of Barbie-themed clothes, and Airbnb is offering a real-life Barbie Dream House in Malibu. Warner Bros. declined to comment on the movie’s marketing efforts.

What all this hype means for box office results for either film is unclear, and awareness doesn’t always translate into attendance, Mitchell said. Predictions for opening weekends are tricky and a lot can still happen before July 21, said David Gross, a movie consultant who publishes a newsletter on box office numbers. Some conservative industry estimates, he said, have “Barbie” opening between $55 million and $65 million in the United States and Canada, and “Oppenheimer” between $40 million and $50 million. Both of those estimates would be strong for a fantasy comedy and a historical drama, neither of which are sequels. Superhero, big action and big animation movies usually open higher, Mr. Gross said.

Still, the hype around the films could be beneficial to the numbers. “Every time ‘Barbie’ released a trailer, ‘Oppenheimer’ would start trending,” Mitchell said.

“They’re so vastly different,” he said, “that they allow for the narrative that popped up organically: This would be strangest double bill ever.” That online conversation, he said, “is pretty much a gift for distributors.”

While social media is full of people showing off their tickets to see the double feature, it’s unclear how many really will. “But it shouldn’t matter,” Gross said. “Audiences are going to find them, and both films are going to do extremely well.”

[my-own-walker]

Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

2.

I admit that there was an unfair, silent bias within me against frat guys. But, who could blame me? Their reputations preceded them. They always wore frat-branded clothes. They traveled in packs. They spoke and acted like idiots. They tended to be racist, homophobic, misogynistic, or some combination of all three. 

My first interaction with a frat guy during my freshman year at Tulane affirmed everything I had seen about them in the media. It was the first party Lily ever dragged me to. I wore my New England uniform; a sweater, docs, and loose-fitting jeans. 

Not even an hour into my time at Sig Chi, I heard a loud voice shout: "Yo! Who invited the lesbo?" right next to me. I turned in the direction of the voice and saw a Kappa Alpha brother staring right at me, laughing at my expense.

"Seriously?" I challenged him.

"Come on, Hannah," Lily spoke lowly into my ear, grabbing my hand to pull me away from the guy.

"Aw, the lesbian got mad at me!" the guy shouted. His comment was met with a cacophony of male laughter. Likely his Kappa Alpha brothers encouraging his bad behavior. 

From then on, I was wary of these males. I stayed clear of them, even at parties. I felt no remorse for stealing their alcohol, getting drunk, and leaving without getting to know a single one. I made sure to dress differently at parties after that, though. I couldn't risk another encounter of that nature.

My avoidance of these frat guys was directly challenged by the seating arrangement in my Calculus class, though. I had no idea that when Kyle Spencer sat next to me on the first day, that my fate would be sealed for the rest of the semester. There was something about Kyle that made me cringe. I knew nothing about him except for his frat status, and his tendency to act stupid.

He was willing to do anything to impress his frat brothers. He had been a human coat rack once at a party. At another, he got so belligerently drunk that he ended up asleep in the fountain outside the library --  2 miles from the party. This was all hearsay. I hadn't been there to witness those stunts, but there was photo evidence. I feared what he would do sitting just inches from me. What if a frat dare caused him to make some sort of mess in class, or ask me out as a joke? I felt funny just being near him. 

His egregious tendency to be late to class didn't help my case, either. By the time he arrived, there would be no other seat available than the one directly next to me. I had no choice but to have an obnoxious frat guy exist within my personal bubble. 

As it turns out, though, Kyle was impressively good at calculus. Like, inhuman. Despite barely paying attention during lectures, he finished the first weekly quiz with ease. I, on the other hand, was nearly the last person to hand in my paper. When we got the results the following Monday, I failed, while Kyle got a 90%. 

I decided it would be in my best interest to cheat on the next quiz by looking at his paper. We had a small quiz every Friday, testing our knowledge of what we had covered that week. The professor chose to do this in lieu of homework assignments. My notes were exhaustive and diligent, but still, I walked in on that Friday with an empty head, somehow having forgotten things I had learned just a day prior. 

Just as I suspected, the quiz got handed out, and I was hopelessly clueless. I didn't cheat often, so I wasn't used to looking inconspicuous. I feigned a stretch and looked over at Kyle's paper, for probably a touch too long. His head snapped in my direction. He let out a laugh and covered his quiz with his hand.

Oh, so we're the perfect little suck-up, are we, Spencer? I thought.

I struggled through the rest of the quiz. Kyle stood to hand his in. He was the first in the whole class. I shot a glare in his direction as he walked back to his seat to grab his bag. We were told we were dismissed as soon as we finished, so he smiled and left. I cursed him out in my thoughts and turned my attention back to my own quiz, which I was surely about to fail. 

I ended up leaving about half of the damn thing blank before time was called.  I slumped back in my seat with a huff and began to pack up my things. Almost the entire class had already filed out so I rushed to get out to get some lunch. I sighed, vowing to get as drunk as possible as soon as I could. I stepped out of the room into the bright daylight of the afternoon. The sun's light on the pavement was nearly blinding. I shaded my eyes with my hand as I walked in the direction of my apartment.

"You gotta be slicker than that," a voice called out behind me, followed by a chuckle. I turned and saw Kyle sitting on the half-wall outside the building with Archie. Both of them stared at me, smiling condescendingly. I spun on my heel and walked away, waiting until I was a good enough distance away to cry. I didn't want them to know they had gotten a rise out of me. 

Fuck you, Kyle Spencer, I thought, tears streaming down my face as I turned down my street.

Previous Part | Next Part

[badsansandstarsansticklestuff]

I am, somehow, still not dead

So here is a new, really small, tickle fic with, of course, my favorite victim: Nightmare.

Context: he's trying different clothes with Error because they got bored and he puts on a crop top, you know what follows.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

A small mountain of clothes was beginning to form on the ground next to the mirror. The two skeletons, Nightmare and Error, were trying them one by one, testing some new looks and combinations.

- Man I should put on skirts more often, I have never felt more free.

Nightmare looked over to see his friend wearing a long blue skirt.

- Well that does suits you very well.

- Of course it does.

Replied Error, making Nightmare chuckle a little. Nightmare then picked up a pink sweater and put it on, only to realize that it stopped right underneath his ribs, and his belly was now showing.

- The hell is that ?

- Oh that's a crop top. It's meant to be like that.

- That's stupid, who wears this ? Who's like "my shoulders are really cold but my belly's fine" ?

Error was going to reply that it was simply a new trend, but he got a better idea instead.

- That's not why people wear them, it got a really specific use. Want me to show you ?

- If you want yeah.

Error smiled as his plan was going just as planned and went behind Nightmare.

- Alright stay still then.

- Okay.. ?

Nightmare wasn't really sure why he needed to stay still but he trusted Error so he did as he said. He let out a yell and stepped away when he suddenly felt his sides being squeezed.

- I told you not to move !

- That can't be the true use of a crop top !

- Of course it is ! I mean, look at you with your exposed belly, you're asking for it with that outfit. Now come back here, let me finish my presentation.

- No way !

Nightmare stepped back as Error approached menacingly, only to stumble against the armrest of the couch and falling miserably on it.

- Shit-

Error smiled at this perfect occasion and quickly sat on his friends legs, preventing him from going anywhere.

- Will you stay still now ?

- Go to heHEHEHEELL FUHUHUCK !

He was cut down by new squeezes on his sides. He tried to grab Error hands but that only resulted in his own hands getting tied up above his head by magic strings, and his belly, which was already pretty vulnerable, was now stretched.

- I said stay still.

Said Error, smiling, still squeezing Nightmare's sides.

- FUHUHUHUCK YOUHUHUHU !

- Hey, you were the one asking me to show you what it was for ! You can only blame yourself !

He cut down Nightmare's answer by switching from his sides to his tummy, tickling it with some light spiderings, making the goopy skeleton a giggling mess.

- I hahahahahate yohohohuhuhu !

- Yeah, yeah, love you too.

He chuckled a little before spidering faster all over Nightmare's tummy, sometimes going on his sides just to make him squirm.

- Stohohohop !

- Why would I stop ? Is my little squirmy and giggly boy not having fun ?

He said in a cooing manner, making Nightmare blush instantly and hide his face behind his arms.

- Oh fuhuhuck ohohohoff !

- Nah, not now, sorry.

He continue his light tickles for some minutes, alternating from spiders to pokes to squeezes and going all over the exposed area, and then decided that he had tortured that poor octopus enough. He let him catch his breath as he untied his hands and got up.

- Here, a real sweater.

He said handing Nightmare a long sweater to cover himself better. He took it still panting.

- Thanks...

- No problem.

Once Nightmare was breathing normally again they just tried on other clothes as if nothing happened, but this time Nightmare didn't put on anything revealing his tummy.

What was a really big surprise to Error was when, a few days later, Nightmare was sitting on his couch, wearing that same pink crop top as last time, looking embarrassed with blushy cheeks.

- So my boy really liked it, huh ?

He said jokingly.

- Oh shut up and just come here. And don't tell anybody !

- Nah I won't, don't worry, you're my squirmy boy, I won't share you.

Needless to say that the next hours were full of giggles and laughter, and that it quickly became a new habit for Nightmare to put on his crop top whenever he felt like getting some tickles. A habit that pleased Error very much, as he loved tormenting his giggly and squirmy boy.

[fangirlandtheories]

lol aww. yeah I know about that steve headcanon post I'm the same anon from that day (I've been sending you most of your anon messages for the past week or two) so i asked for steddie headcanons this time to switch it up a bit!

So I don't have anything that I have prepared on the fly for hcs, but I am going to use some questions from this list to give some of my personal thoughts and opinions.

1: Who spends almost all their money on the other?

Steve is absolutely spending his sweet Harrington Hush money on little luxuries that Eddie never had. He's getting him conditioner that makes his hair fluffy, new strings for his guitar, tires for the van because 'Look at how low the tread is Eddie! You seriously want to drive my kids around in that?". He really charms Eddie by buying stuff for Wayne. It's difficult to find the things that Wayne will like, he's wary of charity from people, but Steve knows the way to the heart through the stomach. He buys them big steak dinners and treats them to beer that actually tastes like beer, not water.

2: Who sleeps in the other’s lap?

This is a tossup but I think Steve is a lap napper. Eddie is definitely a 'can fall asleep anywhere' kind of guy but Steve will actively seek out Eddie's lap, ESPECIALLY DURING CAMPAIGNS, and make like a cat. He snuggles in, lays his head against Eddie's shoulder, and lets the muffled sounds of Eddie's passionate rants lull him to sleep. He almost always wakes up groggy after Eddie tries to shift him to his other shoulder because his arm is asleep.

3: Who walks around the house half-naked and who yells at them to put on some clothes?

Hmmm... you want to know between Steve "Stripped without being asked" Harrington and Eddie "For Your Modesty" Munson. I'm not quite sure.

4: Which one tells the other not to stay up all night and which one stays up all night anyway?

Controversial BUT Steve tells Eddie to go to sleep. Eddie is like the prototype for ADHD and he definitely gets into song writing and learning and just completely loses track of time.

5: Which one tries to make food for the other but burns it all by accident and which one tells them that it’s okay and makes them both cookies?

Eddie had a bag of pretzels and weed in his lunch box. He survived on spite and scrambled eggs. That man is not housewife material. Steve is the exhausted "I love you but please stop trying to boil water in a skillet, thanks."

7: Which one constantly wears the other’s clothes?

Which ONE? They just combined closets at this point. They both have public images to uphold, styles perfected long before their relationship, so they wear their own clothes in public, but they swap outfits behind closed doors constantly. Dustin bursts in once to find Eddie upside down on the couch, strumming his guitar, with Steve's sweater, shorts, and socks on, and Steve stirring a pasta sauce he was heating with nothing more than a pair of boxers and Eddie's Led Zeppelin T shirt.

8: Which one spends all day running errands and which one says “You remembered [thing], right?”

Steve has head trauma and Eddie is Eddie. Neither one remembered the thing or that they even needed it in the first place. It isn't until tey go to make dinner that they're like "FUCK! THE THING!!!!"

9: Which one drives the car and which one gives them directions?

Steve is a one hand on the wheel, one hand on the thigh kind of smooth man. Eddie is a "We need to turn left." "When" "Two exits back" kind of navigator.

10: Which one does the posing while the other one draws?

Steve poses, Eddie draws. It's very serious and intense, think Titanic, but when it comes time to reveal the drawing it's just stick figures and penis doodles.

11: If they were about to rob a museum, which one does backflips through lasers and which one is strolling behind with a bag of chips?

This mental picture had me cackling because Eddie wants so much to be the calm, cool bag of chip guy as a backup to Steve's Mission Impossible LARPing ass but when Steve's back is to Eddie he's scaling the fucking walls.

13: Which one likes to surprise the other with a lot of small random gifts?

Eddie. He doesn't have a ton of money though so it's always little rocks, pictures he's torn from magazines, articles of clothing, rings, little acorns and blunts. When he does spend money it's a big thing. He's very frugal but he'd spend all of his life savings to see Steve smile. It means a lot to Steve because even though he spent his life lavishly, it was never anything that he wanted because no one really knew him.

14: Which one keeps accidentally using the other’s last name instead of their own?

Eddie flashes the Harrington name with more ease than Steve does. Eddie bats his lashes and let's it roll off his tongue sweetly to get whatever he wants. He uses it sarcastically when arguing. He uses it angrily when he wants to punch Steve's parents. He uses it tearfully when Steve puts the ring on his finger at their wedding.

15: Which one screams about the spider and which one brings the spider outside?

Eddie is 10000% scared of spiders. He will squeal and jump and Steve will just be like (¬_¬) and get it out of the house.

16: Which one gives the other their jacket?

Dare I say both? They trade letterman and leather WHICH IS A FANTASTIC NAMEFOR A FIC. Letterman and Leather.

17: Who keeps getting threatened by the other’s overprotective older younger "sibling"?

Eddie's all smug about thinking he's the shit with the kids but that disappears real quick when Max's eyes pierce his. Suddenly he's surrounded by the world's most threatening 15 year olds who have are way too protective of their babysitter.

18: Who’s the first one to admit they have feelings for the other?

It's Steve and boy is it an accident. They're arguing one night about why Steve's been so distant and in very dramatic rom com style he let's it slip.

19: How good would they be at parenting?

Fucking amazing. Between them they have the bases loaded with fun yet safe parenting. Eddie's a "If you talk to my child that way again I will unleash the gates of hell upon you, Sharon" type while his kid sits there with wide eyes and a smug grin. Steve is "The Gates of Hell"

20: Which one types with perfect grammar and which one types using numbers as letters?

Are you kidding? They're both looking at their kids homework with lost expressions, quickly calling Aunt Nancy and Uncle Robin.

21: Who gets attacked by a bully and who protects them?

Okay this could go either way. Steve getting sucker punched out of no where by some homophobes who figured him and Eddie out, Eddie getting shoved into a corner by some jocks. Both bullied, both protective. Either way, blissful. Now mess with one of the kids and see what happens.

22: Who makes the bad puns and who makes a pained smile every time the other makes a pun?

Steve is a dad joke connoisseur and Eddie makes fun of it relentlessly until, during one fateful campaign, Mike complains that he's hungry and Eddie responds with "Hi Hungry I'm Eddie" without any thought before he pales in realization.

23: Who comes home from work to see that the other one bought a puppy?

Steve is tired, he's had a long day of rude customers, he comes home to Eddie hastily closing the bedroom door. "Hey I just really love you. you know that?" before Steve pushes past him and sighs at the puppy. He comes around within minutes but sometimes he has to remember that his boyfriend is a little impulsive.

24: Which one gives the other a piggyback ride when they’re tired?

Both but Steve's is never intentional. Eddie only carries Steve when things are really REALLY bad. Be it a migraine or a seizure, Steve insists he's fine until he absolutely drops. Eddie, on the other hand, plays up the drama. "Stevie that's just like... a really big hill. Uppie." While making grabby hands. Steve falls to the puppy eyes every time.

25: Which one competes in some sort of activity and which one does the overzealous cheering?

Okay so I feel like Eddie is the kind that would seem like the overzealous cheerer but hear me out: Eddie who goes to basketball games and watches with glazed eyes until it's over and he's like "That was some quality... shorts wearing. You really wore... those shorts looked better on you than on anyone else, I'll tell you that. And that time that you jumped! Your shirt went up like two inches and when I tell you... That was the real game winning point." Meanwhile Steve is at Hellfire wearing a paper crown and a scowl.

26: Who takes a selfie when the other one falls asleep on their shoulder?

Steve is more sentimental so he definitely has photos of Eddie sleeping, but Eddie has a secret cherished photo of Steve in his wallet with his mouth hung open, drool dribbled down his chin, face smoothed for once, head on his shoulder completely out after a long day.

27: Which one would give the other a makeover if they asked?

Steve is itching to rid Eddie of the blasted 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, body wash that he's been sporting for his entire life. Eddie wants to teach Steve about the wonderful world of loungewear. They both get what they want.

28: Which one owns a pet that the other is absolutely terrified of?

Eddie owns a lizard which Steve resolutely stays away from. Dustin clued Eddie in to Dart and now Eddie instantly is like "Oh Sweet Slug Lord, tell me my future." While cuddling with his lizard and Steve just sits there regretting his life choices.

29: Which one holds the umbrella over both of them when it rains?

Steve. Period. Eddie forgets umbrellas are even an option half the time, choosing to shake out his hair like a dog. Steve is running behind him desperately trying to throw his coat down on puddles to prove his chivalry.

30: If they went on vacation, where would they go and what would they do? Who would take the pictures?

Steve is a vacation dad. He's a polaroid camera and sunscreen nose kinda guy. An itinerary man through and through. Eddie is a "Vacation is relax time, let's stay in bed all day." kind of guy. Steve spends all of ten minutes in bed before physically vibrating about opening times for museums, earning him a sleepy grin from his boyfriend. The first place they visit is California to visit their friends. Then it's to Boston for Robin and Nancy. It's about halfway there that they realize how much they enjoy the traveling and decide to invest in a proper camper, their home on wheels. They're two men who hate to be tied to anything other than each other.

Sorry this took so long omg, I'm terrible at coming up with headcanons so I was panicking trying to come up with an answer to this but then I realized that people like @otp-imagines-cult created questions like this that make it waaaay easier to come up with these.