#doesn’t really make sense but eh whatever

[gay-thoughts-all-day]

thinking about me between his thighs and sucking him off. thinking about his hands in my hair and pulling him in closer and holding his thighs and how good he sounds when he moans and how pretty my name sounds coming from his lips and tasting him and and and

[rogueddie]

There are a lot of rumors about Eddie Munson. From his sexuality, to his religion, to him being some sort of supernatural creature.

Steve doesn’t put a lot of merit in most of them. They’re usually just bullshit people make up to entertain themselves with whilst beating down on the weird kid. Steve thinks it’s boring… usually.

He’s seen enough weird things happen around Munson to know that something isn’t right. Something about him is unnatural. And Steve is staying clear out of the way of whatever the hell he is, or whatever the hell he’s messing with.

Unfortunately, his friends haven’t gotten the message.

“Do it at your own house!” Steve complains, though he makes no move to stop them. He’s sure it’s nothing, that it’ll only lead to an annoying clean-up job, but there’s a nagging sense of dread writhing in his gut. “This shit is bull anyway.”

“If it’s bull then what’s the problem?” Tommy counters.

“Because none of you dickheads are going to help clean this shit up!”

“I promise to help you clean up,” Carol says. “There. Problem solved. Right?”

"It's still stupid," Steve mutters, glaring at the janky make-shift pentagram they've made. "And a bad idea."

It's drawn on nine pieces of paper- they wanted to draw it big on the floor, but Steve had but his foot down. He lets them use some of his moms candles as a compromise.

With the lights off, sitting with the two of them in a circle, it suddenly feels too real. Even Carol looks suddenly nervous.

Tommy is the only one still smirking, though Steve is sure that it's forced. His voice shakes a little as he begins reading off the paper he'd torn out a library book. His Latin is clunky.

At first, nothing happens.

Long enough that Carol says, "did you even say it right?"

"Yes, it even has-" Tommy starts.

The candles all blow out, suddenly. The light Steve had left on in the kitchen flicks off too, plunging them into complete darkness.

After a horrible moment, where they're still and silent, Carol yelps.

"Don't grab me, Tommy, that's not funny!"

"I didn't grab you."

"Wh- Steve?"

"No," is all Steve can get out.

"I'm turning the lights on," Tommy says. "This is ridiculous."

Steve listens to his footsteps and, when he sounds like he's almost at the light switch, he yelps.

"Fuck this," he says.

"What the fuck, Tommy!" Carol yells when they both hear him running past them. She's up on her feet immediately, chasing after him.

He wants to scream after them, plead with them to come back, that they shouldn't be abandoning the circle.

But, the same gut instinct that insists he stay where he is, keeps his mouth shut. Everything in his being is telling him that if he leaves, if he speaks first, horrible things will happen to him.

Something tuts, like a parent admonishing a child.

The living room light flicks on, so bright that Steve has to blink a few times to clear away the white spots.

Eddie Munson sits in the space they left empty.

"Someone didn't read the terms and conditions," he snickers.

"What..." Steve pauses, clearing his throat. "What are the, uh... terms and conditions?"

"Oh, they're simple, really. Look," he holds up the page Tommy had read the incantations from, pointing to the little paragraph at the end. "They even translated it to English! But all you need to know, big boy, is that you are A-OK."

"And... Tommy and Carol?"

"Eh, they're fine. Lucky, really. I'm trying to relax up here. I'm only gonna pay them back with a minor curse or two. Nothing lethal."

"Fuck."

"We haven't even got to you yet!" He spins around so hes laying on his belly, resting his chin on his palm. "You didn't technically summon me so you can just tell me to leave... or."

"Or?"

"Deal with no consequence, baby. One wish, whatever you want, free of charge. Well... I'd want your silence about the whole... summoning thing. Let's consider that payment."

He doesn't need his gut or book to warn him that it's a bad idea. Munson could be lying, easily. There could be fine print. It's a bad, very bad idea.

"There's... definitely no consequences? I won't, like, go to hell for this?" Steve finally asks.

"Do some charity work for a week, you'll be fine," he says, waving his hand around. "What do you want, King Steve?"

"Could- could you make someone love me?"

"Oh, ho ho ho! Who's the unlucky lady who said no to you?"

"No, it... it's not like that. I mean, um... my mom."

Munsons smile drops. The temperature drops with it, making a chill run up Steves spine.

"Your mom," he repeats.

"They're busy like, all the time," Steve automatically defends. "And they're barely here so, uh... of course they wouldn't- I mean, it's normal, right? You can't love a stranger or... whatever. It's fine. It's just... I don't know."

"Steve..." Munson pauses.

He groans, throwing his head into his hands, dramatically. He almost immediately flings his head back up, hair flying everywhere, giving Steve wide and pleading eyes.

"I can't make people fall in love or any shit like that. I can make illusions, that's it. Love is, like... way out of my jurisdiction."

"I- I'm ok with an illusion. Like, just one day or something."

"Steve, baby, you're breaking my heart."

"Please?"

"Jesus- ok!" Grumbling, Munson shifts so he's kneeling. "And in return, you won't say shit about any of this. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Great. Ugh. This next part is... weird."

"What do you mean, weird?"

"It's weird, I don't know. Deals about, like, love are sealed with a kiss."

"You're joking."

"Nope, and that's not even the weird part. Now, come on and pucker up, let's get this over with." He gestures for Steve to shuffle closer, waiting until they're sat close enough that their knees almost bump together. "You can still change your mind. Anything at all, Steve. Anything."

"I thought you wanted to get this over with?"

"On your head..."

Munson leans forward, kissing him. It's just a peck, simple and easy. No big deal, right?

Steve feels possessed. It's like someone lit a match in his stomach, leaving him lightheaded and confused. He's not sure how he ends up in Eddie's lap, clutching onto his shoulders, desperately trying to lick into his mouth. He feels so-

He wakes up in his bed, the morning light blinding him.

"What the fuck..." he mutters to himself, grabbing at his throbbing head.

At first, he thinks he's hungover. That he'd just had a weird dream... but he's wearing the same clothes. And, sat on his stomach, is a guitar pic. It's got 'corroded coffin' written on it too- Eddie's band.

"Steve!" He hears his mom call. "Time to get up!"

He scrambles out of bed, dashing down the stairs.

She smiles when she spots him, so bright and warm. She even raises an arm, laughing when he practically throws himself into her side and hugging her tight.

"Morning, sweetheart. Good dreams?"

"Yeah. Yeah, great. But, uh... I feel sick."

"Oh no," she frowns. She puts her hand to his forehead, cooing when she brushes his hair out his face. "Is it your stomach?"

"Yeah. Just... might be better to stay home today. If that's ok?"

"Of course it is. I'm sure we can find something fun to do together, yeah? How about we get a vhs movie, hm?"

"I'd love that."

"Great. Well, if you're feeling up to it, I've made breakfast." She steps away, plating the food she's cooked up. "Oh, did I ever tell you about Paris? It was beautiful, you would have loved it. We should bring you, next time we go."

Steve can't stop smiling. He's sure that his cheeks will be aching by the end of the day.

He'll have to thank Eddie- as soon as he can even think about him without blushing. He'll need to ask if it's normal to still feel... affected, even after the deal is done.

Part of him knows it isn't the deal. Part of him is too curious about how Eddie will react.

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Ring My Bell

steddie, omegaverse, flagging/signaling culture, mdni 🔞

Based on a fun worldbuilding convo in the SHOM discord that’s still buzzing around my head. Credit to @itcanbepalped and @jeffgoldblumsmulletinthe90s for vibing on this one

Steve’s parents never wore rings. They said it was gauche; very new money of them.

“Why bother with jewelry on your fingers that will get banged up on your hands when you can wear a necklace,” Clarissa would say when she spotted someone at the club with a ring, or god forbid two! Her own betrothal and bonding necklaces were layered, drawing the eye to her bite.

That was the whole point of a necklace. Either it emphasized a bonding bite, or it highlighted the fact that the wearer’s bonding gland was intact.

Steve had been given a necklace after he presented, a simple gold chain with a bejeweled padlock.

Pretty fucking gauche if you ask him.

Steve wouldn’t have worn it, but it was expected. Plenty of omegas wore something similar; he’d rather have his grandmother’s old claddagh ring, but his mother said it was low class.

So he wears his necklace every day, a reminder that he belongs to his father until he is mated. Then, he’ll belong to his alpha. Legally. At least until Congress hot its act together and passed some of the proposed equity laws.

Maybe his mom was right, rings were more easily lost. They tainted the scent of your hands with harsh metal.

It’s just that he’s seen some interesting ones, shapes so far beyond the standard lock, circle, and eternity knot. Meanings far more individualized than his necklace.

Which is why when the pups start following after Eddie Munson, Steve really notices his rings.

He gets what the book means. Or, he thinks he does. Munson doesn’t wear blockers, ever. His scent is an open book.

And the skull could be one of those gothy, ‘I mate for life’ things.

But the pig makes no sense. And no scents. Pigs don’t typically have a smell worth advertising.

The ring on his right hand is so simple in comparison that Steve gets stymied there, too.

He drops it, not wanting to reveal his interest in anything to do with Eddie Munson.

Steve is perfectly ready to let it stay a mystery until the night he comes to pick Dustin up after Hellfire only for Eddie to be the only one left in the lot, hauling his stuff out to his van. 

“Sinclair got his permit; your chuckleheads all went with him so he could show off.”

“Oh,” Steve says dumbly, only for his brain to catch up and spit out, “And they’ve never heard of a phone?”

“Real butthead behavior on their part,” Eddie agrees with a smirk. “Anyway, sorry you came out here for nothing.”

“Eh, could be worse.” Steve’s thinking monsters or g-men.

Of course, Eddie doesn’t know that. He gives Steve an appraising look. Then he surprises Steve. “I could make it up to you,” Eddie says with a crooked grin.

“How?” Steve asks, swallowing back the ‘not your fault’ that almost slipped out automatically. Because it kinda is.

Steve wouldn’t be here if not for Eddie’s club and the hold it has on Steve’s merry band of twerps. So he’s open to whatever Eddie’s offering to make them square.

He shouldn’t be surprised when Eddie pulls a joint from his pocket, sets it in his mouth to light, and inhales.

He holds it towards Steve as he blows out a stream of smoke. “We can hang, take the edge off your night.”

Steve takes the joint. Eddie grins and skips over to his van, opening the back door and giving a joking bow.

Steve laughs. He didn’t expect to be charmed so easily.

But he is, and after a couple hits he feels relaxed and loose in a way that would be fine in the safety of his bedroom, not so much when he has to drive.

He’s going to say as much, tell Eddie he should clear his head, when his eye catches the shine of silver on his fingers.

It’s like his brain isn’t connected to his mouth as he asks, “Why the pig?”

Eddie looks up from the box of cassettes he’s looking through and furrows his brow. “Huh?”

Steve’s brain must be cut off from his body too, since he reaches out and snatches up Eddie’s left hand.

“The pig,” Steve says, tapping on the offending ring. “Like, the book and the skull I think I got, but I’m coming up empty on the pig.”

“I’m surprised you knew it was a book.”

“But it’s book-shaped!”

“You mean rectangular?”

“But it is a book right?”

“Yeah.”

“So that’s about your scent,” Steve feels smug as he says it.

“I don’t smell like books,” Eddie says, clearly confused. “That’d be pretty awesome, though. Old books smell nice. Unless they’ve been in a basement too long.”

Steve nods sagely. This is obvious wisdom. No one wants to jump your bones if you smell like a musty basement.

Then he remembers his point. “You don’t smell like books, you are a book. Easy to read your scent ‘cuz you don’t wear blockers.”

“Don’t like ‘em. Make my head all fuzzy, and not in a fun way.”

“And the skull is a ‘til death’ thing right?”

“It’s actually a vampire skull.” Eddie points out the elongated canines. “You know, ‘the eternal kiss’ or whatever. I think bites should mean something.”

Steve nods again, feels a weird pull low in his belly. “That’s cool. Not enough alphas I know have that opinion.” He’s seen too many broken bonds at the country club and his father’s company Christmas parties.

Seen too many couples who shouldn’t have bonded in the first place.

“So, what’s the pig?”

Eddie looks down where Steve is still holding his hand. “Ever heard of a truffle hunter?”

“Like the chocolates?”

“No, the mushrooms! You’re rich, don’t you know about fancy mushrooms!”

Steve shakes his head, feels dumb. 

But Eddie just accepts his ‘no’ and moves on, “Well, they’re these rare mushrooms, and pigs like to eat them, so they’re really good at sniffing them out. And that’s me. I fully plan to sniff out my scentmate, and until then…” He shrugs. “Plenty of hot omega pussy to smell.” 

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Eddie slaps his right hand over his whole face in shame. “Shit, sorry. Not appropriate in front of an omega. Or anyone. I promise I’m not a creep trying to get in your pants.”

But Steve’s mouth has gone dry. He wears blockers still, for work, the scent neutralizing deodorants and perfumes good at covering up his scent. The only place he doesn’t apply it is his crotch, because no one should be getting close enough anyway.

Suddenly he wants Eddie to be close enough.

He’s still holding Eddie’s hand, can still smell the edge of his woody scent over the weed. “It’s okay,” he says. Turns Eddie’s palm toward him and brings it to his nose.

The metal smell is there. But also pine and herbs, deepened by dark musk. His tongue darts out for a taste.

His hand mostly tastes like skin, a little like salt and smoke, but the scent is still there. Makes him want more. He pulls back, looks at Eddie who is staring at him with awe on his face.

“Okay, Mr. Trufflehunter, how do I smell?”

“You’ve got blockers on-”

“Not everywhere.”

His movements are slow, giving Eddie every chance to back out as he slides his fingers into Eddie’s hair, gripping the side of his head, and guiding him down towards Steve’s crotch.

Towards his wet pussy.

continued in part 2

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

Get Some Rest

Warnings: Mentions of a bau case, brief mention of drinks with Garcia, reader is sleep deprived, fluff!, some pining, no established relationship, that should be all but let me know if I missed anything<3

Word count: 1.3k

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader

A/n: This was something that the lovely @criminalskies asked for and I was very happy to deliver! I hope you enjoy it sweetheart<3.

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @canuck-eh @luvehotch @callm3c0nfus3d @ivyflowers13 @randomuserrs

Hotch: @14buddy22 @pastanoodles11 @htchnr

Let me know if you want to be added to my tags 🫶

Hotch can always tell when you’re not doing so well.  Whether it’s because the case is extra tough on you for some reason.  Or you’re not getting enough sleep.  Whatever the reason may be, he just knows when you aren’t okay.  

The team is currently on a case and you are all in the precinct unfortunately having to wait for the unsub’s next move.  You are all lost and all you can do is wait for the unsub to slip up and leave something behind.  You’ve all tried to figure this guy out but none of you are getting anywhere with this case and it’s exhausting you all, but Aaron can tell it’s really bothering you even more.  He doesn’t know why it’s getting to you, but that’s not his main concern with you right now.  For now, it’s just him wanting to help you however he can.

You’re sitting down and hunched over a file that you can hardly read.  You’re so tired that all of the words seem to be blurring together and coming off of the page, the same page that you have been trying to read for about ten minutes now but you can’t comprehend anything on it.  The entire team is tired but you are completely exhausted because this case has been keeping you up.  This has resulted in numerous cups of coffee that you have been guzzling almost constantly and when you go to take another sip of your current cup of coffee, you realise you finished it about five minutes ago the last time you reached for it.

You stand up and make your way out of the room in search of more caffeine, but you don’t hear the footsteps trailing behind you because your senses are a bit dulled from how tired you are.  All you can focus on now is finding that coffee and once you pour yourself a cup, you feel a warm presence next to you.  You turn to look at him, you know it’s Hotch because you always get a specific feeling when he’s near you.  It’s something you’ve never been able to explain even to yourself, but when you tried to explain it to Penny during one of your little gossip sessions over a couple of drinks, she seemed to completely understand what you were trying to tell her.

“Are you okay?” He asks you quietly, he knows you aren’t so he’s not sure why he even asked.  It’s probably just what naturally comes out when he sees you struggling.  It’s not the first time he has asked you this knowing full well that you aren’t okay.  

You’re too exhausted to try brushing him and his concern off and putting up a front to act like everything is fine, so instead of doing that, you just shake your head in response and set the cup of coffee down as Hotch brings his hand up to rub soothing circles on your back.  The bags under your eyes match the ones that never seem to leave Aaron’s face and it breaks his heart a little bit.

“When was the last time you slept?” The concern on Aaron’s features is clear to you even in your sleepy state.  You really try to think of the answer.  You want it to be accurate but you aren’t really sure at this point.  With everything that has been going on with the case and how terribly it has been going, sleep was the last thing on your mind recently.  “I don’t know.  Yesterday?  Maybe the day before?  I’m not sure.” You rub at your eyes a little, trying to rub the sleep out of them.  You’ve been trying to do that all day but of course it hasn’t helped one bit.

“Come on.  Let’s get you back to the hotel.  You need to sleep.  You haven’t taken a break since we started this case and that’s not okay.  You’re draining yourself and I won’t let you do that.” Aaron’s voice is soft but you know that there is no room to argue with him so you just nod and let him guide you out of the precinct in your half asleep state.  

He helps you to one of the black SUVs and after you’re safely inside, he tells you to wait there for a few minutes.  He knew you couldn’t have kept yourself awake long enough to have him drag you around the precinct so he can inform your colleagues of everything.  Everything meaning that he tells all of them to call it quits for the night and to also get as much rest as they can before morning comes.  

The next thing you know, Aaron is gently shaking you awake and saying your name.  Apparently you had fallen asleep in the car before he came back and now you’re outside the hotel.  You are only half awake but it’s enough that you can both get up to your room and once he has you inside, he helps you lay down on the bed before also helping you undress.  He folds your clothes nicely and helps you into your pyjamas.  

He moves to step away from the bed after he gets you all tucked in but even though you can hardly keep your eyes open, you manage to reach out for his arm.  “Don’t go.  Please stay.” He can’t help but smile at your sleepy voice and mumbled words and he sits on the edge of the bed.  “Okay.  I’m here.  I promise I won’t go anywhere.” You smile at his reply and how gentle his voice is.  He tends to keep it soft around you and you love it.  You can feel the way his hand plays with your hair a little and then the thought occurs to you.  You don’t want him sleeping in that suit because you know he won’t be comfortable like that.

“You can borrow some of my pyjamas if you want.  That’s not really the most comfortable thing to wear to bed.” Your words are still mumbled as you lazily gesture to his work attire with your hand.  Another smile creeps onto Aaron’s face as he thinks about your offer.  He would love to wear something of yours.  The idea makes his cheeks heat up just a little and he nods even though you can’t see it now that your eyes are closed.

He stands up from the bed and finds your go-bag and grabs one of your shirts and pyjama bottoms before changing.  Once he’s back by your side, there’s a smile on his face as he climbs into bed next to you and the smile only grows when you immediately wrap your arms around him and pull him closer.  It makes Aaron’s heart flutter and in return he of course wraps you up in his embrace as you rest your head on him.  His cheeks flush even more when you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and his hand finds its way to your hair for him to start messing with the strands there.  

You’re starting to doze off now and he makes sure to keep holding you tightly in his arms as he plays with your hair and gently scratches your scalp which pulls little hums from you.  “Just get some rest, okay?  It’s alright now.” His voice is the softest you have ever heard it and it’s the last thing you hear before you fall into the deepest and most peaceful sleep you’ve had in a long time.  In fact, you think it’s the best sleep you have ever gotten in your entire life and it turns out to be the same for Aaron.  

Aaron ended up falling asleep shortly after you did and he thinks it’s because he was holding you as you clung to him.  You being so close and the way both of your scents completely relaxed the other was enough to shut both of you off for the entire night.  And if Aaron happened to place a few soft little kisses on your forehead right before he fell asleep, well then that only added to the safeness he made you feel even if you didn’t know it because you were already off in dreamland.

[billskeis]

RAHH could you make a tom kaulitz fluff like how the female reader is younger 2 years so like hes 17 while shes 15 and he helps her with her homework 😅 they ARE together btw :)

2006 tom :)

ᡣ𐭩 tom helping his gf w math

“i’m back!” you turn to look around at tom who enters his bedroom with drinks and snacks. you were currently staying over at his place so he can help you tutor. “hi tom…” you sigh heavily as you stare at the paper beneath you, many questions, but it remained blank.

maths wasn’t your best subject, but phew! could the tom kaulitz do his algebra.

“still struggling?” he sits down on his seat next to you as he leans on the desk with his head resting arms that fold on top of it. “thank you, and yea.. i just—it doesn’t make any sense to me!”

“hey hey, no need to get frustrated,” as you slam softly on the table, somewhat shaking the coca colas in the iced glass cups. “just break it down, okay..? can you do that for me? the way i taught you.”

despite his deviance as a junior, tom does quite well on his academics. which maybe, is why he chooses to prioritize fun over school. he never really required the effort in doing well because he was just naturally born with it.

you on the hand, not so much.

and it wasn’t like this for every subject, luckily. it was just math. whatever you did and no matter the amount of effort you put into it, always ended with you failing. it’s getting tiring and overwhelming at this point.

which is why your math teacher had assigned you tom as a study buddy, a tutor. none of you really fought against this, that being that you were together.

“now y/n, i don’t know if you know mr. kaulitz but he is quite the troublemaker.. don’t want you in the wrong crowd now eh?” your math teacher asked you sternly, to which you could only nod to.

little did he know that this little troublemaker was your boyfriend.

“okay y/n, so just take it from the top.. you do this.. and then,” as tom continued to explain the strategies in solving the equations, all you could do was stare at him.

the way his lips move as he addresses the concepts, how he writes his letters and numbers, the eye contact? you swear you couldn’t focus.

“tom, i can’t do it…” you bring your head down. it upset you. he was going out of his way to help you, even though it was a punishment from the math teacher despite being his best student, you felt as you were being ungrateful and totally useless.

“schatzi, it just takes time.. i don’t expect you to automatically be good at math just from this one night.. we’re just getting started!”

and although he makes the effort to comfort you, it wasn’t helping much. you just lacked the motivation.

shifting, he leans his body toward you, leaning his head down to face yours. his eyes fluttered beneath his lashes. he puts your hands in his as he caresses them softly.

“how about this, you do a question, i’ll give you a reward,” your head perks up in curiosity, “a reward..?” “mmhm! just a small one though, for each question. how about that schatzi?” you contemplated, but anything from tom would be good! so you agreed.

finishing the equation, you place the pencil down to revise your work to ensure that everything was correct. you turn in the office chair a bit to face tom who was already paying attention to you. “all done?” “yep!”

tom’s eyes scan the paper, blinking. you bite your lips in nervousness worrying about if the hard work you’ve done was all for nothing and it ended up being wrong or incorrect, worse, none of it made sense to the point where tom couldn’t even see where you went wrong.

“good job baby!” tom places a kiss on your cheek that leaves you stunned, all you could do was look at him, eyes and mouth wide open, “your reward of course..” “do it again,” “what?” “tommmm, please?” he just giggles and pushes you away softly when you want to kiss him again.

it made you feel all bubbly and fuzzy again, you don’t know what it was.

was it tom’s scent that wafted your way for just a second that made it so addicting for you to get a sense of him close again? was it how soft and gentle his lips were on your cheek that tickled you slightly?

or was it just, tom?

“no baby! finish another question and you can get another one,” ruffling the top of your head to mess up your hair. pouting, you look down. a part of tom feels bad, so he just leans closer to you. little did he know this was all apart of your plan to place a quick peck on his lips once he was caught off guard.

he backed away so quick, face a beet red. he wasn’t the only one who was able to fluster you, “you little..!” “can’t blame me, you wouldn’t give me what i wanted!” “now you’re in for it..” tom tackles you to tickle you onto the ground.

laughter and giggles filled the room, you and tom play fought for some of the night. eventually, the two of you got tired and worked up an appetite, leaving the bedroom completely empty to go eat.

the homework was completely forgotten, but that can wait.

(you guys never got the homework done and both were scolded by the math teacher)

[tommydarlings]

Isn’t it funny? | c.s

pairing: mean!dom!carlos x sub!reader

warnings: smut, chocking, spitting, orgasm denial, dacryphilia

w/c: 1k

summary: Carlos doesn’t find it so funny when your laughing while he’s trying to talk some sense into you, so he decides to fuck you until you can’t laugh anymore.

masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3

You knew that Carlos was the jealous type of guy, you knew that literally the fact that your looking at another man makes him a bit jealous, doesn’t matter if it’s some random stranger or his teammate Charles, he got jealous.

But you also always tried to explain it to him. How your his, how your his girlfriend to love and his women to do whatever he wants with in bed, completely his. But Carlos was never really the type to understand something like that.

“Yes, your right baby-”

“Don’t fucking baby me now y/n.”

You sighed and looked at him before he threw his black blazer off and put it harshly over the wooden chair in the kitchen you two were currently in.

“Yes, your right Carlos, I did had a conversation with this man while you were grabbing some drink for all of us, but I didn’t flirt with him-”

Your fiancé laughed quietly as he fixed his hair before he spoke up,

“You were looking at him like you wanna drop on your knees infront of him right now while everyone is watching!” He raised his voice a bit after he muttered a quick 'mierda' shit under his breath.

You shook your head with a tiny little grin before you quickly rubbed it of off your face, desperately hoping Carlos didn’t catch it. And now guess what he did. He caught it.

“Oh so you think it’s funny, huh?” he stated immediately after noticing your funny facial expression. “So fucking funny to flirt with other man while your having a ring on your finger, isn’t it?”

You couldn’t collect the strength to look up at him so you just looked down onto the floor while fiddling with your fingers before you noticed how he was suddenly staring infront of you. “¿Qué tal si muestro lo que es realmente gracioso, eh?” How about I show you what’s really funny, huh?

You quickly swallowed as you felt his hand brushing a piece of hair behind your ear with a smile on his face, looking totally sane and not like he was thinking about something unholy at all.

— — —

“What did you do?” Carlos asked you with heavy breathing before he wrapped his hand around you throat and applied a bit of pressure as he looked into your eyes. Carlos didn’t stop hammering his hips into yours. His dick moving in and out of your wet pussy with a fast pace while he was holding your one leg away so it was impossible for you to close your legs.

You shook your head with a groan while you were tightly grabbing the bedsheets as you closed your eyes and threw your head back, feeling your orgasm coming closer. You moaned at the sight of Carlos head being tilted down with squeezing his eyes, whispering a quick 'joder' fuck under his breath.

With a tight grip on your neck and ankle, Carlos spoke up again,

“Answer me when I ask you a question zorra.” slut

You moaned and quickly grabbed his wrist that was tightly holding your head in place before you finally were able to mutter some words,

“I-I flirted w-with him Carlos p-please, I’m s-so sorry.” You begged desperately while you were a whining mess. Your fiancé slowly leaned forward and whispered into your ear before he gently kissed your temple, doing all of that while he was still ramming his hard cock into your drenched cunt,

“Es una buena chica.” That’s a good girl

“Carlos, I-I'm gonna-”

“I know cariño, let it all go, c'mon.”

You could have cried happy tears when you heard these words out of his mouth, but these happy tears were quickly transformed into tears out of pure disappointment and sadness. Because right after Carlos said that, he pulled out and jerked himself off before he came with a loud and very visible moan all over your stomach and chest, the hand that was just applying pressure to your throat was now quickly covering your mouth.

Your fiancé threw his head back in pure pleasure and flexed his sweaty abs a bit, his other hand that wasn’t muting your whines, cries, screams and begs a bit was still holding your ankle and pushing your leg to the side so you couldn’t close them and he could have all the space he wanted to cover you in his cum.

You shortly glanced up at him with teary eyes and a desperate and pleading gaze as your noises were getting a bit quieter. Carlos slowly retreated his palm from your mouth and looked in your eyes with a smirk on his face.

“You seriously thought that I was going to let you cum after your 'oh so funny' stunt tonight? How funny you are cariño, so funny.” He told you with a laugh while you looked down in embarrassment before tilted his head down towards your soaked cunt and spread both your legs as he slowly let a trail of spit drop down onto your sensitive clit.

“So pathetic, so naïve.” He said before he spread the spit that was now on your clit around you pussy lips, focusing on how your reacting to it, looking up at your facial expressions before looking down again and concentrating on spreading all the spit.

After that he tapped your wet clit a couple of times with his fingertips while smiling about it.

“Awww, is she so sensitive, hmm?” You hips were lifting off of the mattress, it’s like your pussy was begging for me but the entire rest of your body was begging him to stop. “Qué mono.” so cute

He laughed and laughed and laughed about the the fact that you were crying and whispering tiny stops and I can’t anymore but you cunt was aching the feeling of his fingers.

Carlos leaned forward and quickly kissed one of the tears away before he caught your mouth in a heating kiss while his fingers didn’t stop the assault on your pussy. After biting your bottom lip, Carlos got closer to your ear and whispered,

“It’s funny, it’s it?, how you were teasing me in the club with this other man, desperately wanting to get fucked right there and now your begging me to stop with tears streaming down your face.”

[r0semaryt3a]

Some pre/during Yorknew Phantom Troupe Identity hcs + Illumi and Kurapika

I do not care if you disagree with these- my word is not law and honestly I want to hear some other headcannons so feel free to drop them down

Chrollo Lucilfer -

Ah Chrollo, my wife <3

He/him (surprising the masses after my wife joke)

Bisexual (no pref)

Monogamy - don’t even suggest otherwise it will be shot down.

“My identity? I’m a bisexual man…hmm? He/him.”

Feitan Portor

He/it

Has not and will not ever think about it (if he likes you he’ll date you he won’t label it)

It would be like pulling teeth trying to get him to answer on his identity. Like, it’s just not important to him. Why do you want to know so bad? Just call it whatever, it’s not gonna humour you with a conversation anyways.

“He.” ‘is there anything else?’ “It.” ‘And your sexuality?’ “…like you, date you. Simple.”

Phinks Magcub

He/him

Straight

Messed around once - quickly learnt he was indeed straight

These people really don’t see the prevalence in their identities so they’re all pretty blunt on answering.

“Eh? Why’d you wanna know? So what? I’m a guy. What? I like girls sure.”

Machi Komacine -

my absolute favourite

She/her

Messed around w gender for a bit; doesn’t care but will let you know “she’s a girl”

Bisexual - fem pref

Was the opposite of Phinks - thought she was lesbian then messed around and realised she was indeed bi

“Call me whatever…I’m a girl though.”

“I mean I like everyone, I think? Girls are probably better. No they are”

Woman has to double check with herself whenever asked, it’s like answering a quiz

Franklin Bordeau

He/him

Homosexual

Like one of the only ones who’d give you a straight answer if you ever asked

“I’m a man and yes, I like men.” Type of answer

Uvogin

He/him

Bi - male pref (the phantom troupe is just a bisexual chat room atp)

I Cannot decide whether I like Nobunaga or Shalnark w this guy

You’ll find out from fucking around with him. In no world is he answering you.

Pakunoda

She/her

THIS WOMAN IS LESBIAN NO DEBATE

L e s b i a n

Can imagine her being the only one of the group to just have her identity down from day dot

Definitely had a fling with Machi at some point that didn’t work out (they ended on good terms obviously. I can and will go into lengthy detail as to why I believe they had something going in the past and weren’t still together during Yorknew)

This woman is the died in the arc she first appeared in rep I needed!

“She/her honey. I like girls, that’s all that’s to it.”

Shalnark

Does not care

Pan

Literally just a colouring book, do what you want he won’t correct you (there’s nothing to correct to)

“Oh? Hmm, well I’ve never really thought about it much. It makes sense for me to be pan though, I guess!”

Nobunaga Hazama

He/they

Homosexual

He’s like that grandad that tells you about his time out in clubs and you’re sat going: “YOU? YOU did those things?”

“I’m a homosexual.”

Hisoka Morow

Call this amalgamation of a human whatever you want. As long as you can fight, you can talk to him/j

Type of guy to make a “Yours” joke

I really don’t see Hisoka caring for what people see him as. Like you wanna call him a he? Go for it. She? Sure why not! They? It? All on the table!

Another bisexual - his preference is fight me

Would 100% be down for poly, but depending on his attachment would also demand monogamy

“Why don’t we set a date and you can find out hmm~?”

Shizuku Murasaki

She/it

Straight or Aro, one or the other she’s either heavily into romance or completely repulsed and I can’t decide which I think it is.

Will blink at you for two minutes before sighing a response

“Well I don’t mind she or it I suppose.”

Kortopi

It/its

Aroace

I don’t really have that many thoughts on Kortopi so this is like all I’m giving

bonolenov

He/him

No one really has a clue on his sexuality and he doesn’t tell any of them, ever. Like he knows what he is, but he just never says it

Illumi Zoldyck

He/Him?

He’s never really thought about it much, after-all aside from family it’s not like most people will live long enough for his identity to matter

Sexuality? Who knows! He sure doesn’t. Does he even like people? Who’s to say!

“What does it matter? I’m a man by all accounts, so refer to me as such.”

Kurapika Kurta

He/they

Bisexual

I don’t even really know why he’s on this list tbf.

Will give you his whole coming out story if you ask about his identity. You’ll be there a while.

This was actually really fun to sit and do-

[rosemariad]

SUPERNATURAL SEASON 15 - THE BITTER END - SERIES FINALE

We finally made it here.

Ooooooooh boy. 😬

The opening for THE series finale felt out of place to me.

You’re gonna waste minutes on this really?

How about a discussion about how they beat God, like they actually managed the impossible - 2 dudes just take the fight to the OG master & creator of the universe and won that shit with some plan they pulled outta their asses. Their surrogate child went on to become the next primordial being to reign over the universe. But no, we’re not gonna even talk about any of that.

Coulda done a million different things even with the COVID restrictions (the two actors in a room across a table, do whatever to keep them safe) but whatever 🤦🏾‍♀️

So after God comes vampires w/ masks? Really SPN?

The minute Dean slammed the Impala’s trunk shut after sundown made me nervous (that would be the last time he’s with his Impala, the last time he ever sees her w/ his own eyes 🥺😭)

Out of all the folks to pull outta the SPN peanut gallery you pick that random chick from 1x19?! Jenny?! Just to kill her off anyway (so I spoke too soon, vampJenny is the official last female to die on this show)

Ah…the nail of imminent demise

That final shot of Sam & Dean was toooo fucking intimate.

Suddenly the Wincest people aren’t so crazy. Why are y’all encouraging this?! Dude, they’re brothers!?! #brothersnotlovers. They could’ve done it like the end of Pearl Harbor where they got Ben Affleck crying over Josh Harnett’s body in the crash. Gimme weepy Sam, that Oscar moment. Dean died sooo young 🥺😒 younger than Mary (I know she was technically in her thirties but TBH she was 64/65), bobby, Rufus, Ellen & John. This is why we can’t have nice things😔

Cas is gonna be so saaaad. He always fought so hard for Dean's sake, only for the guy to die so young…it’s an insult - an outrage really. Dean fought so hard for so long only for him to say - it was always gonna end this way?! 😡

He didn’t have to make it to old age (though he deserved to) but don’t let him die like this. All accepting so soon after resolving the meta plot 😔 there were things Dean probably wanted to do and now, he’ll never get his chance. He could’ve settled down with someone (it wouldn’t have been Cas since he got killed off already but shit I would’ve settled for Dean to settle with anyone for a minute, like Sam did) - also would’ve been nice to hear from Jody or Donna and others one last time but hey fuck the side characters 🤣 (oh COVID the scapegoat that keeps on giving - it’s like the showrunners forgot the convenience of modern technology).

So Chuck definitely won - he's no longer burdened by having to deal w/ the universe and one of the Winchesters died anyway. Not exactly as planned but they never broke free, not really. I totally subscribe to this theory. Especially since it’s alluded to that Dean Jr - Sam’s son - is a hunter also at the time of Sam’s death by old age (we think…I’m just saying that’s an awful not of tubes and stuff for the old man, maybe just to monitor his heart rate/health - eh)

The Sam wig is bad but eh - doesn’t bother me - we’re talking about a CW show wrapping up a project, it’s not the end of the world people, the plot is what matter s and the plot here is a fucking shit show my lord. It’s not the first show to suffer a shit ending to a show that captivated worldwide audiences but damn this is a bummer.

Especially since it’s alluded to that Dean Jr - Sam’s son - is a hunter also at the time of Sam’s death by old age (we think…I’m just saying that’s an awful not of tubes and stuff for the old man, maybe just to monitor his heart rate/health - eh) But yay for Sam apparently - couldn’t think of a better name for your son than Dean Jr.? It only makes sense to make the kid a junior if it was Dean’s actual kid, like Dean would’ve been Dean Sr. And his boy would’ve been Dean Jr. or Dean W. The II. And and hello there women whose face we don’t get to see (really committing to limiting women’s presence in the show - again probably blaming in on COVID but if you have a literal baby with this giant man, you can chance a woman being there in an actual camera shot where we can see her face 🙄) Back to Dean - again cuz of COVID? I guess - we don’t get to see him reunite with anyone (not his MOM even?) except Bobby for like 1 second and then he’s just driving around in his car. No roadhouse, no fishing, nothing but sitting in his car, alone killing time until Sam inevitably returns to him.

Oh what a shame…

So that happened I guess. SPN was something else, for better or worse. Probably never gonna get a show like that again. They tried it with the Winchesters spin off about a supposed alternate universe MaryxJohn thing and friends but honestly if its not about the Winchesters brothers or Destiel who cares 🤣 they pretty much wrapped up Sam & Dean’s stories thanks to this finale but Dean (per the Winchesters flop) could be brought back into the fray somehow if they wanted - but hey that’s what fanfiction’s for 😁

Well SPN it’s been interesting…sort of.

On that note…

I wanna thank the fans of the show, your hot takes, memes and general fervor over this show/story is what finally made me watch it all. Cuz I remember the TV spots from back in the day, cruising the CW channel on weeknights after school. I was too busy watching other shows to give SPN a chance while it aired. So thank you 🙏🏽

[xpau-official]

I do not mean to be rude at all but Cross hates being called Sans canonly. There are many comics of him rejecting the name “Sans”

I wasn’t sure if you knew but yea!!! Of course this is your comic so you can do whatever but I just wanted to let you know 🫶

That’s only in Underverse and after the events of Xtale, and I’m pretty sure he only hates it after the conflict with the X-Event.

I didn’t overlook this detail. I made only XPapyrus call him that for a reason, as he is HIS Sans. Similar to how Underswap Paps calls Blue “Sans”. They’re brothers from the same universe, they don’t call each other by their AU name. Does that make sense?

At the end of the day, he is still a Sans, and he is one of the Sanses at the party. XPAU doesn’t take place during any particular time, so progressive plots like Underverse that change the designs and character development over time don’t have much impact on it. Things like him having his scar are just a design choice, as he was drawn with it a lot before more updates of the series.

I’ve always thought of XPAU as having no timeline. It has events from both the past, present, and future. But there’s really no need to think too hard about it.

I understand that there’s a lot of things going on in Underverse, but please don’t carry over those plots to XPAU. It’s just supposed to be a dumb, lighthearted and fun party. This is a fanon series, and although I love to try sticking to canon, some things just don’t happen. So please don’t get at me for getting a fact or two wrong. I’m trying to keep it away from being too OOC while still making it fun. You guys are literally getting to kiss skeletons in ugly sweaters lmao.

If I’m wrong, then that’s on me, my bad. I’ll take the L, though I don’t really appreciate these kinds of comments. I get that it comes from good intentions, just…eh. It’s not fun, you know? But thanks.

[vacantgodling]

i’m thinking about this post/image

and the thing is though… they don’t mean the same thing.

they convey the same message: “i’m going to x event/place” but the underlying tone about how the speaker FEELS about going to the event isn’t actually the same.

so to make this incredibly simple:

I’M UP FOR IT -> usually implies that the event in question isn’t really something you’re excited for but it’s something that you do have the physical ability to do, and there isn’t like a good reason NOT to do it, so you’ll go.

ie:

a: are you going to suzy’s party tomorrow?

b: eh, yeah, i’m up for it

which is saying that b doesn’t really want to go to suzy’s party (for one reason or another) but they don’t have a good reason not to go so they’ll be there.

I’M DOWN -> implies the exact opposite. you’re excited for whatever it is that you’re doing.

ie:

a: are you going to brent’s party tomorrow?

b: HELL YEAH! i’m so down.

why this phenomena exists is definitely the question. because you would think that up being “high” would be a good thing and “down” would be the opposite.

but i think a good way to think about it is if you contextualize it in the sense of a hill: it’s easier to go downhill than it is to go uphill. i can go down that hill no problem vs. i can go uphill but it’s a bit more work.

i know no one really ASKED for a real explanation bc it’s a joke about how english makes no sense as a language; but every language has its own slangs and idioms that are fascinating once you get into the weeds about them so, here we are in the weeds.

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Hello! I love your writing style!! It's just so on spot, and I wanted to request some headcanons for the mercs with a gn! reader who doesn't really speak but they can communicate through sign language or paper for whatever reason, the thing is, the Merc and the reader find themselves in a really critical situation or just an incredibly intimate and comforting moment, blurting out for the first time something serious or stupid like "y'know when I first met you I thought you're really stupid...(affectionate)" IDK OF THIS MAKES SENSE OR IT'S WEIRD SORRY LMAOOA

(if you don't wanna do all of them you could do your faves & I hope there's a chance to add miss Pauling if possible😔) but anyway, too much to read,, sorry again!! Take care♡♡

Y/N with communication anxiety admits their feelings to the Mercs

Scout:

- He’s very chill and nonchalant about it. Although have fun hearing him talk his mouth off all the time and rant about random things. He takes a liking to you pretty quickly when you join his team and leans on the wall next to you tossing his ball from hand to hand and blowing bubbles with his bubblegum. “Heeey there slugger. What‘s your name? You look like a total nightmare today.” He says. When you don’t answer him and nervously gesture to your throat that you’d prefer staying quiet he pauses for a moment. “Not a talker, eh?”

- Literally will not shut the fuck up. Will talk to you for hours on end. Venting or just saying plain stupid shit to impress you. You find his personality rather charming and in exchange he seems to appreciate your content silence and preference to listen to him. Something that the other Mercs don’t really do.

- “Y’know, Y/N. I know this sounds fuckin’ weird but like— Thank you I guess? For listening to my nonstop ramblin. I mean.. Not many people stop to consider what I have to say.” He says this to you while you sit in Tuefort’s gazebo with him on a cold desert morning. “They just think i’m annoying I guess..”

- “Annoying yet charming and handsome nonetheless, Scout.” You finally work up the courage to mutter to him. Your voice is rasp and you smile.

- Scout pauses, then looks at you in complete disbelief. Did Y/N just speak? Atop of that it seemed to have been a flirtatious compliment. He takes a moment to process the situation and then sort of chortles. He runs his hand through his own hair and acts chill about it but on the inside he’s absolutely mad with feelings. “Wow.. That’s.. Yeah, OK.” he says, failing to find words. Face flushed with heat.

——————————————————————

Soldier:

- He was the first person to approach you in the base. Like ever. When he found out there was a new mercenary he needed to lay the ground rules to them as soon as possible. Instead of giving him a “Yes sir!” like he had hoped, you stared at him blankly. (I’d probably be rethinking this job offer.) Wondering why you hadn’t spoken up to him, he got close to your face and looked up and down you. “I’D LIKE TO HEAR A YES SIR PRIVATE!” Still nothing. You were too busy admiring his muscles. You’ve just met this man but you’d let him throw you off a bridge in an instant.

- When he still doesn’t get a response, he backs up and angrily fixes his helmet “Insubordination I see.. Heh. Okay.” He mutters and prepares to plan a punishment later. You are oddly charmed by his stupid greeting and you head to the nearest chalkboard and explain in writing why you can’t respond back. He lifts his helmet up to read it and then looks back at you. (The other Mercs are kind of stunned that Soldier even knows how to read in the first place.)

- “Ah, I see.. Strange tactical decision but not unheard of.” He responds, then straightens his posture apologetically. You two become close friends from then on. Medic has to explain to him later that you just have “mild” communication issues. For the first few months of your guys’ friendship the dumbass thought you were doing this to gain an upper hand.

- After a match one day you catch him smoking a cigar on a huge pile of bodies in the pouring rain. You step up the horrific mess of blood and guts to meet him. He doesn’t look too happy. Although Soldier never really opens up about anything to anyone. He’s way too deep in his little military fantasy. You sit next to him and put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. Whatever the hell he was upset about you knew it wasn’t good. After a bout of silence you whisper “You’re a wonderful strategist, Soldier.”

- You can’t see his expression underneath his helmet but you can certainly hear his heartbeat quicken because of how close you are. His mouth nearly twitches up into a grin. He doesn’t respond to your compliment but he’s relieved to hear one nonetheless after all this time.

————————————————————————-

Demoman:

- You find him making bombs in his quarters when you meet him for the first time. He doesn’t look too friendly but as you decide to walk by he immediately calls out to you. “Ayeee! New blood. Get ova’ here a second. Wee lil monster.” He beckons his hand aggressively.

- You walk over to him and he puts an arm around your shoulder. Patting you reassuringly. “Aye.. So It’s not gonna be easy livin’ here just so you know. We’re all a wee bit mad. Don’t take the others’ too seriously when dey bother ye.” He takes the responsibility upon himself to let you know as an older Merc it’ll be okay. He slaps you friendlily on the back after his conversation and sends you off. He doesn’t really question the fact you aren’t speaking.

- You immediately take a liking to him though. Mainly due to his explosive personality on the battlefield (pun intended.) He gets horribly drunk before doing any Mercenary work and acts goofy the entire time. His charisma pulls you in like a magnet. You want to speak to him but it’s so hard…

- After months of simping for this guy from afar, you slip a note under his doorframe professing your feelings to him. You hear him pick it up. The next thing you know, he barges into your quarters the next day after a match and grabs you by the shoulders. Asking you in complete disbelief if you actually meant everything you said.

- “Yes, I just think you’re really attractive!” you blurt out instinctively. Alarmed by his behavior. He lets you go; having heard your voice for the first time. The shock of the revelation and the sound of your voice, atop of the alcohol seemed to have done it for him. He immediately kissed you on the lips without warning. You’re the first person in years to say this to him.

- “I… Er.. “ He walks away after that. You have no fucking idea what the hell even happened.

——————————————————————-

Engineer:

- You hear the sweet melody of a guitar echoing off the intel room. Despite its clearly southern origins you are drawn to it. As if it was some sort of hypnosis. You’d recognize that melody anywhere. The year was 1967 and you were no stranger to your own childhood. That was clearly “El Paso.” You’ve heard that song on the radio a million times already. But somehow this was different. The soothing voice it came from was singing it as if it were his own lullaby to the multiple sentries around him. The ones of his own creation of course.

- Next thing you know, you’re sitting next to him on the intel desk, sleepy as all shit from the melody and the white noise from the patrolling sentries. You wake up an hour later to embarrassingly finding yourself on this stranger’s lap. You want to profusely apologize to your colleague but nothing comes out.

- He doesn’t even seem phased. For some reason he was stroking your hair as he gazed off into the distance.

- Ever since that day you became close to Engineer. He was completely unbothered by your communication issues and actually kind of appreciates the silent times he has with you. He rarely speaks to you while hanging out either, out of respect for your boundaries. Only the occasional conversation here and there. You are both existing together.

- “I love you, Dell.” You finally say, after a night of drinking in his workshop with him. You are perched up on his lap as always and he’s petting you. At first he misunderstands this as platonic. “Aww..” He cooes. “No, I mean it. I’ve always found you so —“ You bury your face into his chest. Muffling the last part of your sentence “Safe to be around.”

- He’s unbelievably boiling with hormones on the inside. He tips his hardhat forward to hide his flustered face. Holding his own chin. “Dammit..” He mutters in an incredibly positive way. You’ve successfully won this man over.

—————————————————————-

Heavy:

- He’s already met you before the job. Accidentally caught you in a coffee shop in Tuefort being yelled at by an ableist Karen and he took it upon himself to nearly strangle her for you. Heavy doesn’t tolerate behavior like that. You need to insult people with style or nothing at all. Don’t pick on their disabilities. Aim for the most stereotypical high school bully route possible. Come on, you gotta be an asshole skillfully.

- He could tell you were different the moment you joined the team. But that’s fine. He was quite misunderstood too. Heavy wasn’t a dumb himbo. He was a GIANT man with a lust for blood. Although he enjoyed chaos as much as any Merc, Heavy also valued silence. Something that you provided him with your presence. You catch him deliberately body shielding you on the battlefield because he knows this communication issue didn’t come out of nowhere. You’re distressed. This was his subtle attempt to let you know he cared.

- He catches you unable to sleep one night. He opens your door and notes the fact your light was still visible through the cracks. You’re sitting on the bed in an uncomfortable fetal position.

- “Little thing will not sleep?” He asks you. Although he has his typical hardened expression the question suggested he cared. “Hm. Stay here. Heavy will grab bedtime story.”

- He reads you an old Russian classic. Although depending on who you are you might not understand it. Regardless the soft sounds are alluring sleep. It’s clear he’s read people stories many times before because his whispers hit all the right places.

- You mumble to him a thank you. Which makes him pause mid sentence. He doesn’t know how the ever living fuck to process what he’s feeling right now. It’s a mixture of affection and the pang of what is typically the start of romantic attraction. Ew gross he’s feeling soft and fuzzy emotions.

- You pull him under the covers with you eagerly. He grumpily obeys but he doesn’t know why. He nearly destroys your bed with his weight and has to put you on his chest to cuddle. You can hear the sound of the ubercharged baboon heart inside him. Still pumping away and working to keep him going. You slip into slumber easily.

————————————————————————

Pyro:

- Talking is overrated anyway. Nobody really understands Pyro when they speak under the mask. Trying to say something simple like “There’s a spy behind you.” is often met with a confused expression. When Pyro meets you, it’s when he’s allured by your skills on the battlefield. In their point of view you are a glorious unicorn prancing around a field of pollen. (More like debris from the enemy soldiers’ rockets but that’s besides the point.)

- There are rare moments where Pyro is completely lucid and self aware of the fact they’re a mercenary for hire though. They compliment you on your abilities after a match and it takes you a while to understand but you nod.

- They won’t. stop. complimenting. you. You are dragged to his tea parties and childish shenanigans and you find over time it’s surprisingly pleasant to escape from the bloodshed once and a while. Cuddling sessions ensue as time goes on.

- You catch their face without their suit while they’re getting changed. That is vulnerability that Pyro wasn’t ready for yet. They break down sobbing and self depreciating and you feel heartbroken. Who the hell taught them to hate themselves so fucking much? You’re having a bit of empathy overload right now as they squeal and choke up. Finding no other alternative but to speak blissful things about their appearance and personality. Hearing you speak for the first time makes them cry more. (In an incredibly positive way luckily.)

———————————————————————

Sniper:

- Oh shit. Another person whose super quiet for some reason?! Except your situation is different. You’d like to socialize but it’s difficult. Sniper doesn’t want to socialize and he hates basically everybody. But he has that “grumpy older brother who teases you” energy. He’s well aware you’re younger than the other Mercs and therefore a tad easier on you.

- He’s scoping out a crack in the window when he feels your presence behind him. His shoulders stiffen and that’s how you know he senses you. “Blimey. You’d make a terrible Spy.” he mutters. Bringing his gun away from the hole to put it down and face you. His hypersensitivity to noise is no doubt from being stabbed a million times.

- You wonder how he’s able to tell it’s even you in the first place. He’s possibly grown accustomed to how each Mercenary sounds when they approach his nest. You can smell the scent of strong cologne mixed in with bond fire lingering off him. Couple that with the fact that he’s so unbelievably hot? You came to bring him some morning coffee but you end up setting it down to spontaneously hug him.

- “Wh— fuck.” He growls. Both caught off guard and swaying a bit. Trying to adjust to extra weight. He hesitantly hugs you back. Wondering if you were sick or something and needed soothing. He doesn’t understand why anybody would want this from him. It takes him a minute to put his arms around you and pat you.

- “What’s wrong mate?” he says, in your ear. This man might be giving you a voice kink if you don’t already have one. Holy shit. You don’t want to be humiliated by your own voice in front of him and your lips quiver. Incapable of finding the words you’re thinking of. “You’re cute.” you finally say. In a last ditch effort when no other words came to mind. To say you desperately wanted this man was an understatement.

- You hear him take a sharp breath in. He stifles a groan from the amount of energy you just shot into his godamn stomach. Not only was it a pleasure to hear your voice for the first time but it felt intimate. He was very sensitive to things like this. You swore you could hear this man purring in your ear like a cat. He was evidentially as touch starved as you were.

—————————————————————

Medic:

- No speaking?! Oh! this man has to study you like right fucking now. What a curiosity. He’s never met somebody who had issues speaking like this before. He hates to admit —and won’t admit for that matter — that he might be doing this out of emotion as well. Believe it or not Medic can be an incredibly emotion driven person. Not just for the pleasures of harming people but the unwanted sympathy that comes with being human. He hates the idea he might care for you. Why does he even feel that way? It’s not like you’re different from any other Merc..

- Except you are. You’re you. That’s the problem. You’re lovable in every way and no amount of rumination will ever explain why.

- His first instinct upon discovering this about you is to ask you questions about how bad it is. Obviously quickly realizing how stupid that is — he hands you his clipboard and a fresh piece of paper to communicate. “Do you speak if at all?” “Do you experience this in the presence of certain stressors?” “Did you have traumatic experiences that led to this?” “Is this perhaps a case of selective mutism?”

- You scramble to write down incredibly passive aggressive and sarcastic answers but they are answers nonetheless. He seems pleased with the results. Under normal circumstances you’d hate being treated like a guinea pig but his excited smile was charming. The fact that somebody wanted to understand your situation so badly was a bit riveting. He was hungry for information about the human existence. “Danke!”

- You catch something you’d never suspect in a mad scientist such as himself. While he’s drawing mathematical equations on his chalkboard one night he periodically looks over his shoulder to frown at you while he thinks you’re not paying attention.

- He’s doing a terrible job at hiding his human nature. There was a bout of emotion in his eyes about your health. As much as the doctor tried to remove this from his work, it kept rearing its ugly head in certain situations. “I love you, Doctor.” You tell him.

- SNAP. His fingers break the chalk in half. Just like his crumbling facade. You could see his eye twitch as he accesses ten thousand possible answers he could give you in his mind. “Aheh, could you give me a moment, bitte?” He tells you. Waltzing into the other room. You could hear muffled screaming coming from his bedroom. He regrets taking this job and wished he died in police custody.

———————————————————————-

Spy:

- YES! FINALLY SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T MAKE HIM WANT TO PULL HIS HAIR OUT AND BACKFLIP OFF A CLIFF

- Spy elegantly invites you to his quarters one night after weeks of avoiding you the first time you come here. He pours you some wine and hands you a glass. (adjusting your hand in the process because you’re holding the glass wrong.)

- “Do you know why I brought you here?” He asks. Pacing around the room and lighting himself a cigarette from his disguise kit. In all honesty you have no idea why but the sight of such a handsome older man doing this for you was distracting. “It is your performance as of late. You are throughly calculated I must say.” You couldn’t agree with this, but you wondered if he had some sort of thing for competent people. (Your assumptions are correct.)

- …. “Not to mention quieter than me when I scope out prey.” He mentions. Waving the cigarette between two fingers. He was a Spy and you had no doubt he was trying to read you like a book but having difficulties. He was especially accustomed to having small talk with the other Mercs to better fake their counterparts when disguised as them. You couldn’t help but feel a little flattered over the fact that not even a Spy could properly look through you.

- He looked at you rather frustratingly once he realizes you’re still not speaking. “Not even the slightest bit of speaking. Do you realize how much harder you make my job?” He complains sarcastically. You can’t help but crack a humored grin at this. He isn’t being ableist in this situation, rather he’s angry he can’t psychoanalyze somebody. You knew it was within’ a Spy’s nature to instinctively do this.

- He responded positively to your grin. Moving away and dragging his cigarette. Trying to hide a bit of his own amusement. “Yes, yes. You find my suffering to be equivalent to the entire circus.” He says. “But in in all honesty your silence is preferred.” Spy moves in and lifts your chin up with his pointer finger.

- “Tu es agréable à côtoyer..” He hisses. His voice sounding like a hungry cat as he draws closer to you. Spy has a very distinct look in his eye. One that basically screams thoughtful and mysterious. You nearly passed out at the unintentionally romantic gesture.

- “Please throw me off a fucking building.” You say.

- “What?”

[i-luvsang]

jam to my peanut butter — choi san

1.2K MILESTONE EVENT ☆ CLOSED  gn!reader , fluff !! , non-idol!au , cw : alcohol/drinking, mentions of allergies, unedited , wc : 0.6K , here you go sky !! tysm for the requestttt i hope you enjoyyy hehe

san’s flushed cheeks and drunken giggles must be the most endearing, adorable sight you have yet to witness. you’re not nearly as drunk as he is; just tipsy enough to lean into his soft and frequent touches. though many other loud and happy friends surround you at the restaurant table, you feel removed from them; it’s not a bad thing, though. you just feel as though you’re in your own little world with san.

he flirts with you, you flirt back.

“will you be the jam to my peanut butter?” he slurs.

“first of all, i’m allergic to peanuts–”

“almond butter?”

“eh,” you tease, “not my favorite.” he pouts. “but… just for you, i’ll make an exception.” he grins. 

his heart flutters unbeknownst to you, and so does yours. that sensation, you are very familiar with when around san.

he takes shots, and you take less—all in hopes of being the one to take him home. surprisingly enough, luck is on your side when you stay in that little bubble with your long-time crush, as no one around you dares to pop it. then, you’re the one who’s responsible for him in his drunken state, as you’ve begun to sober up after quitting with the drinks a bit ago. plus, no one thinks they could get him to unlatch himself from his spot by your side, both hands at your elbow and his head on your shoulder.

“alright san, it’s time to go home,” you chide.

“why?” he sighs, that permanent pout that always finds its way to his features each time he’s drunk extra noticeable.

“well, everyone else is leaving and i think this restaurant is closing soon, so… that’s why.”

“ah. are you leaving too?” he lifts his head from your shoulder to look you in the eye. his gaze is soft, innocently questioning, and ever-so endearing.

“we all are. so, c’mon! get up with me so we can grab a taxi.” you start pushing out of your chair, san complying easily and happily.

“we’re getting a taxi together?” he asks, voice unabashedly hopeful.

you nod, doing your best to support the weight he puts on you as he leans into your side. “i’m taking you home,” you answer simply. he doesn’t say anything to that, just begins to hum an old song, contentedness filling the notes that escape his mouth.

leading him outside, you say goodbye to your other friends still lingering outside.

“try not to look too happy about having to take care of a drunk san,” wooyoung teases.

all you can muster in combat is a weak, “shut up,” while fighting back a smile.

“couldn’t if i tried~” he sing-songs back at you before waving goodbye with a bright smile and making his way to his car. you roll your eyes, but wave with your free hand in a friendly gesture. “bye, san! don’t cause too much trouble for your lover there, alright?” he yells before disappearing around the nearby corner. you feel your face flush with heat at wooyoung’s words, but san seems to just love it.

“my lover,” he giggles under his breath, sounding too happy about it for you to deny it. you’re probably too flustered to come up with a sentence that makes any sense. you’d do anything for san to call you that, sober. but he’s still drunk, so you’re not too sure what to make of it. all you can do is hope with your whole being that he’s not just saying things, but meaning them too. hope that his actions are what he really wants to be doing when he’s not drunk, not held back by whatever social standards that are set up to draw the line between friends and something more. hope that he wants to be holding you close like he is now, that, however cliche, and however allergic you are, he really, really wishes that you’d be the jam to his peanut butter.

(spoiler alert: he does.)

[82mitsu]

{18Trip} <CHAPTER 001 SIDE-A: Sun will R1ze!> 001-A04 Dependable(?) founding employees

A translation of 18TRIP's CHAPTER 001 SIDE-A by 82mitsu. ENG proofreading by sasaranurude.

TL Note:

As mentioned in Kafka’s interview: The dog is named Shumai which is Siu Mai, a chinese dumpling. 

Kaede: (The first day of work is finally here! The other new employees will be here too, right… I’m nervous.)

Kaede: (That reminds me… I ran into Renga-kun here last week—I wonder if he turned out to be okay. He wasn’t looking too good there.)

Kaede: (Not that I can do much just sitting around and worrying! Alright, time for work!)

Daniel: Nah, what’cha making all these faces for. Someone’s a busy fella as always.

Kaede: !? Eh, Da-Daniel-san!? What are you doing here!?

Daniel: Ah? ‘Cuz this is my workplace, duh.

Daniel: Lemme take it from the top again, I’m director of HAMA Tours, Iwabuchi Daniel Hiroshi. Nice to meet’cha~

Kaede: …! …! …!

Kaede: (Y-you have got to be kidding me… Does that mean he’s my boss again…!? This guy who doesn’t lift a finger…!? Kafka, why did you hire him of all people…)

Daniel: While it’s our new workplace, you better be working till ya drop~ Chief-san♪ ‘Kay, I’mma head off first.

Kaede: D-Daniel-san, you are one of the founding employees, remember!? So please actually put effort into working this time around, okay!?

Daniel: Wahaha, I’unno ‘bout that.

Sakujiro: A good morning to you two, Chief, Director.

Sakujiro: Chief, we received the flowers you ordered. Thank you kindly for your consideration.

Kaede: Sakujiro-san, good morning to you too! So the flowers arrived safely then.

Sakujiro: Indeed. Young Master… Pardon, the President is most delighted with these.

Kaede: (...Oh, I see now. Sakujiro-san’s also one of the founding employees. Working together with someone who has been looking out for me since I was a kid—it does feel a little bit strange…)

Sakujiro: I am no more than a mere newbie of an ordinary employee, so please do give me orders regarding anything, even miscellaneous affairs at work.

Kaede: Eh… that’s really a bit too…

Daniel: Gotcha, Sakujiro. I’ll let ya take charge of all the annoying things.  

Kaede: Daniel-san… Don’t you have any common sense…!?

Daniel: Gotta use whatever’s at your disposal~

Kafka: Good morning. Everyone’s in high spirits already. Chief-chan, thanks for the flowers ♪ Could it be that you got these arranged in my image?

Kaede: Ah, Kafka, goo-

Daniel: Top of the mornin’ to ya, Bossman. 'Nother day of you looking all spiffy there.

Kaede: (Daniel-san, your tune sure changes with Kafka…) 

Kafka: Good morning. The other two who will also be founding employees are already here. Allow me to introduce them.

???: Good morning, Chief-san and Director-san if I’m right. 

Kaede: (Wah… A calm, proper looking fine young man!)

Kafka: He’s Kitakata Nayuki. He’s an old friend I connected with back in the investor community. This time I brought him on board as the manager for accounting.

Nayuki: If there are any problems related to accounting, please don’t hesitate to ask me about anything. I will properly follow through with you.

Kaede: (Woah, a genuine guy who has it all together…! Thank god…)

Kaede: (Hm? I kinda… feel like I’ve seen him before… Where was it again, like a magazine interview or something…)

Kafka: By the way, Nayuki also has experience establishing JPN’s biggest metaverse service mahorova under the role of COO under his belt. He’s your go-to guy to rely on. 

Kaede: Ah…! You’re the boy genius who created mahorova at the tender age of 12…!?

Nayuki: That is something from 11 years ago. Currently I’m a mere section manager for accounting so please treat me as such without reservation.

Kaede: (Such an amazing track record, yet so friendly and humble… Kafka, you actually hired a respectable guy…!)

Kaede: (...Honestly, why come to our company with a background like that? is what I’m thinking, but… maybe it’s because he’s friends with Kafka?)

Kaede: (...That also reminds me, something’s telling me I heard “Kitakata” somewhere else… What was it again?)

Kafka: Well, Nayuki will be taking on another job besides accounting sometime soon. Leaving that aside for now…

Kafka: There’s one more person, a guy that I employed as an intern but…

(Sounds of glass breaking and rattling)

???: Wah, uwaaaaah, I fell over and the flower vase is………..Guh! Hweeehsorrysorrysorrysorrysorry—--!!!

Sakujiro: Oh good heavens. The flowers we received from Chief are a mess.

???: P-picking them right now!!! Ouch!!! There’s blood from touching the vase shards… bloooooood~!!  

Kafka: Sigh… Sakujiro, lend him a hand, and put the flowers back together.

Sakujiro: I shall wrap this up within three seconds. 

Sakujiro: SWISH, SHWIWIWIWIWISH!!

Kaede: (T-they’re the perfect picture of a clumsy boy and overpowered butler…!?)

???: Ah, awawawah, I blinked and there’s band-aids… G-God, was that you~!?

Kafka: Yachiyo. Come here. Those flowers are VERY! important to me so you better not be coming near them ever any time soon, okay?

Yachiyo: S-s-sorry… I won’t ever be in the same room as them ever again… 

Sakujiro: Fuefuki-kun, if I may. Once you open the door first look to your right, and then to your left. Then proceed to keep a one meter distance from anything that seems breakable on impact. 

Yachiyo: Ye-yeshhhh!!! I’ll write it down!! I’ll make a memo of exactly every single spoken word!!!

Daniel: Oooh, whatta hard worker, takin’ proper notes and all. Intern-kun fella.

Kaede: (It’s kind of like… another unique person joined the bunch…)

Kafka: This is Fuefuki Yachiyo. The details of his application form were unusual and funny so I hired him ♪ Do get along with him.

Kaede: (Hired because it was funny… Kafka, your bad habits are coming out again!)

Kafka: And~ last~ but~ not least~ Ta-daaah, our poster dog Shumai.

Shumai: Borf!

Kaede: Eh, where did Shumai pop up from!? Wait, why did you bring him here!?

Nayuki: What a cute little doggy. Are you acquainted with him, Chief?

Kaede: Uuh, more than knowing him, we found him injured in the courtyard of the hospital Kafka was staying at back in the day…

Kafka: Chief-chan and I rescued him and looked after him at the hospital. I took him in my care when I got discharged from the hospital. Since he came running after me, and all.

Kaede: Really? It’s been so long, I’m glad to see you again, Shumai.

Shumai: Pant pant, boworf!

Kafka: Ah~ so unfair. Only wrapping your arms around Shumai. You should embrace me like you used to in the past, Chief-chan.

Kaede: W-what are you saying, geez…

Nayuki: Fufu, the president and Chief sure are good friends.

Kaede: Eh, no no it’s because we’re childhood friends…! Sorry for messing around at work…!

Kafka: It's not like we're messing around for the hell of it, this is how good friends act ♪ Manager Nayuki, don't go making eyes at Chief-chan, okay.

Kaede: (No, but seriously, what are you going on about, Kafka…)

Yachiyo: Do not make eyes at Chief… I-I jotted that down!!

Kaede: Yachiyo-kun, you don’t gotta take notes of that!

Kafka: Now then, given how all founding members have come together… Suppose it’s time to hold our first strategy meeting.

<<previous chapter / next chapter>>

chapter 001 side A directory: TBA upon completion

[goomens]

I've had an idea but I won't get around to writing it think.. I imagine Crowley being drunk on wine, taking to Nina after *the event* and just word vomiting, telling her everything about who he is. And then Nina ist like "so when you said 'angel' you actually meant..." maybe you can do something with that? 😂

such a cute idea!!! fic under the cut <3

It’s nine in the morning and Nina is jolted from her sleepy reverie by the violent tinkle of the front door bell; a figure in black slithering into a nearby seat and thunking his head down onto the table. Crowley, she thinks, watching him carefully from behind the counter. Without Mr. Fell in tow, tense around the shoulders, and creating quite a sad display, she feels a pang of something like pity inside her chest.

“Gretel,” Nina calls quietly to one of her newer baristas after a moment of consideration, “Take over for a bit, please?” And she makes her way over to Crowley, not bothering to say hello as she pulls out the other chair and sits down in it. He doesn’t lift his head. By all means, he seems lifeless. Completely still. Eerie, like he isn’t breathing. Her heart stutters in fear for a second, thinking he’s just up and died in her coffee shop, but—

“Oh, calm down.” Crowley retracts his forehead from the cold plastic table with a grunt and glares at Nina—she thinks, at least—through the impenetrable black lenses of his sunglasses. “I would like a mug of coffee with four measures of vodka, please and thank you.”

“It’s not even half nine yet, you know,” She scolds him, not really meaning it, but not willing to serve him alcohol so early either. He’s a bit of an odd fella (or, whatever) but Nina draws the line at serving a customer four units before noon. “No boozy breakfasts here. You’ll have to wait ‘til later—on Saturdays we have a boozy brunch. There’ll be cocktails.”

Crowley doesn’t speak for a moment. Then, “Pity.” He sighs. Snaps his fingers for some reason. He reaches into his blazer, pulling out an entire litre bottle of ABSOLUT and uncapping it. Nina opens her mouth, ready to tell him off, but he holds a finger up and guzzles down half of it before she can get the words out. When he sets the bottle down, she raises a questioning eyebrow.

“Thirsty?”

He ignores her, choosing to scowl instead, and looks off out the window of the shop looking a bit lost. “Your advice was shit. You and that—that vinyl seller. Thought you should know. Don’t go trying to influence anyone else’s ‘love’ lives, eh?” His words are full of forced humour, but his voice shatters a bit at the end, and suddenly Nina feels like some kind of villain. She looks at Crowley and sees someone in mourning. He’s grieving. He’s heartbroken.

“Fuck,” She says with feeling, and motions for Gretel to bring over two mugs.

Hours later—in the midst of Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death’s boozy brunch—Crowley is drunkenly taking Nina step-by-step through his and Aziraphale’s extremely long history. They go back much, much further than she ever thought. Than she ever thought possible, actually. It’s all quite strange. And sweet, and sad, the way he talks about Aziraphale. “He’s so smart,” He says. “He’s good. He’s lovely. He’s the one I love. He’s only gone and returned to Heaven and left me on my own.” He also says, “I’m a Demon, I know I don’t deserve him,” and “He’s an Angel, he doesn’t want me. He could never want me.” And Nina is suddenly putting the pieces together, making sense of it all, her stomach—full of the buttered bagel she’d had for breakfast, half a bottle of vodka, and not much else—turns and swoops, threatening to expel its contents.

Crowley watches her then bursts into a startling laugh. It’s low and surprised. “There’s no way—no way—you’re just now realising what I am. What he is.” She just blinks and stares, and his laugh dies down but the lines of amusement remain etched on his face. “Oh, brilliant. You humans are brilliant. So bloody obtuse.”

“Oi!” She protests, reaching out to push at his shoulder. But she misses on account of being a bit more tipsy than she thought, and he laughs at her again. “I am not obtuse! ‘M quite clever, actually.”

There’s a smile on his—the Demon’s—face now, which is nice, much better than the frown he sported earlier, but when he gestures to his face and grins fiendeshly, she only stares confused for a second before realising that, ah, maybe she is a bit obtuse. His eyes are bright and a little bit playful, without the sunglasses. Big and yellow and snake-like, and oh, that’s what the Eden story had been about. It hadn’t been a metaphor or a weird figure of speech, but the truth. She’d been so busy listening to him she hadn’t noticed the moment he’d pocketed his sunglasses.

Instead of crippling fear or mortal terror, Nina just laughs and laughs. She orders them both a creamy coffee and some malt biscuits, even at his weak protests, and she lets him tell her all about the planets and the stars, Mesopotamia, the crucifixion, the Seven hills of ancient Rome, the burning of witches in the fifteenth century, the Armageddon-That-Wasn’t…

[that-new-author]

Yooo, ok, so I was just wondering if you could do a really touch starved, clingy Narrator snuggling his S/O? You can change whatever to your hearts desire! Thank you! I love your stories so much!

I had an idea and I went with it for this one-

Reader x Clingy, Touch-Starved Narrator

“Nooooooo..”

You roll your eyes as you hear a groan come from the man you were asleep with. You had assumed he was asleep as well, rookie mistake. All-powerful beings technically don’t need sleep.

Narrator wraps his arms tighter around you, attempting to pull you back into the bed, but eventually failing. You chuckle as you move his arms off of you, getting up to make breakfast for the two of you, even though technically Narrator doesn’t have to eat.

Just when you thought he’d given up, an invisible force had pulled you back into the bed, leaving you looking up, dazed. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Narrator looking down at you with a smirk before pulling you back into an unplanned cuddle session.

“Is now really the time?”, you ask him, looking towards him with a feigned exasperated look. “Don’t you have your story to work on?”

“Oh screw the story for now! I am in dire need for your attention and you’re willing to ignore me?”, he replied dramatically. You sigh and flip around so you’re facing him.

“‘Screw the story,’ eh? A little while ago, even the thought of saying the would be absolutely blasphemous!”, you teased him lightheartedly, a grin painting your face.

He rolls his eyes. “Oh please, I was blasphemous! Now pipe down and hug me,”, he buries his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms back around you.

“That doesn’t even ma-“ you were cut off by a shushing noise coming from him. You stop talking, but continue trying to pull away, pushing away from him. It takes a couple minutes of pushing before you give up. Narrator is stubborn, he will not let go.

“Finally come to your senses, hm?”, he chuckles, a smile on his face. You just sigh and lean into him, burying your face into the fabric of his shirt.

Narrator’s hand snakes its way to the back of your head, gently petting your hair. Your breathing slows as you lean into him further, closing your eyes. The rise and fall of his chest comforts you, and you match your breathing to his.

Every time he moves, he lets out a little hum. Most of his movements are him just trying to scoot closer to you, but at this point it is physically impossible to get any closer to you.

He wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world and, if you were being honest, neither would you.

[rfxiii]

(First off, a very happy birthday tomorrow to @theawfulwriter !! I’m still a little messed up and ouchy from surgery Tuesday and I really, really hope this makes sense! But more than anything, happy birthday! And if this doesn’t make sense, or isn’t what you wanted, lemme know and I’ll re-write it! 🎉🎂)

Best Birthday Wishes

TW: none

You’re curled up on your couch, sweatpants and baggy hoodie on while you sit with your knees to your chest. You’re barely paying attention to the tv show you’re so absently staring at. And while you’re lost in your own head, you fail to hear your front door jiggle open, or to notice the sound of heavy boots thudding across your floor, until a body hefts itself gracelessly over the back of your couch.

“Why so glum, sugar?” Your recent boyfriend, Trevor, asks.

You snap your head up at the sound of his voice, your eyes narrowing at Trevor as he sits cross-legged on the couch beside you. He's dressed in a pair of worn jeans, a plain white t-shirt, and a beat up old demin jacket, his foot propped up on the edge of your coffee table. His smile is almost mocking, and it takes everything in you not to snap at him. "I'm not in the mood, Trevor," you reply, looking away from him again. "Leave me alone."

But Trevor doesn't seem fazed by your less-than-friendly tone. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and studies your face intently. "Come on, darlin’," he says, his voice softening. "You can tell Uncle T what's wrong. You know you can." You feel your shoulders sag a little at the tenderness in his voice, but you're still not in the mood for this. "I just want to make it better."

You sigh, scrubbing at your face with your hands before looking back up at him. "It's-.. It’s my birthday today," you mumble. "I just... I don't want to celebrate."

Trevor's eyebrows knit together in concern. "Why not?" he asks gently. "What's wrong with celebrating you? You're amazing!" You roll your eyes, even though the words warm you up a little from the inside. "No, really," he insists. "You're perfect, smart, funny, and talented. If it was up to me, every motherfucker would be celebrating you today!”

You feel a little embarrassed by his compliments, but you can't help but smile a little. "Thanks, I guess," you mutter, looking away again. "But it's just... hard sometimes, you know?"

"Yeah," Trevor says, nodding. "I get that. But you know what? Tonight, we're going to make this the best birthday ever. Even if it's just the two of us. We can order some takeout, put on a movie... Whatever you want to do."

You chew on your bottom lip, considering his offer. A small part of you wants to enjoy your birthday with Trevor, but another part of you just wants to wallow in self-pity for a while. "Okay," you finally say, sighing. "I'll try."

Trevor beams at you, obviously relieved. "Great! I'll go get the food and set everything up while you get changed, okay?" He stands up and moves around the couch to lean against the armrest, studying you carefully. "You like Chinese? Italian? Wha’da’ya want, angel?”

You shrug. "Eh, anything’s fine..." You feel a little guilty about how little enthusiasm you have for this whole thing, but you tell yourself you'll try to enjoy it for Trevor's sake. Maybe a night in with your favorite person can make things a little better.

Trevor nods, already heading for the door. "Great! I'll be back before ya know it," he says, shooting you a quick wink before disappearing into the hallway. You hear the front door close, and then silence fills the apartment as you're left alone with your thoughts again.

You decide on taking a quick shower to at least feel a little better, you stand up and head down the hall to your bathroom. The hot water feels good against your skin as you wash away the day's grime and exhaustion. Once you're done, you throw on a pair of comfortable sweats and a soft t-shirt, feeling a little more like yourself again.

When you emerge from the bathroom, you hear the unmistakable sound of a movie playing from the living room. Peeking around the corner, you spot Trevor, and see he’s set up a little impromptu movie theater on the living room floor, complete with big blankets and a bowl of popcorn. The TV is playing an old romantic comedy you used to love, and he's even lit a few cheap candles to set the mood. You have to admit, it's kind of cute.

Trevor glances up at you as you step into the living room and offers you the bowl of popcorn. "I hope you like the movie," he says, actually looking a little nervous. "I figured you could use a laugh." You smile at him, feeling a little guilty about the way you've been acting. "Thanks, Trev. It's sweet of you." You curl up on the huge pile of blankets beside him, taking a handful of popcorn and settling in to watch the movie.

As the movie progresses, you find yourself getting caught up in the story and laughing along with Trevor at all the right places. He slips an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer, and you feel a pang of affection for him. He really is perfectly sweet when he wants to be. You can't help but wonder if this is what it's like to have someone who really cares about you, who wants to make sure you're happy.

As the credits roll, Trevor turns to you with a mischievous grin. "So, what do you say, beautiful? Now what?" You smile back at him, feeling more than a little grateful for his efforts. "I don't know, Trev. I am a little tired."

He laughs, his eyes twinkling. "Come on, let's at least have a slice of cake first. You know, to make it a proper birthday celebration." His enthusiasm is contagious, and despite yourself, you find yourself smiling back at him.

He stands up and disappears into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a small but surprisingly pretty chocolate cake and two candles. "I figured we could share it," he says with a wink, "since I kinda forgot to get food."

You roll your eyes, but can't help but laugh. "You're such a dummy, T."

He grins, setting the cake down on the coffee table. "I know, but you love me anyway." He lights the candles and hands you a lighter, then leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. "Now, make a wish."

You close your eyes, thinking for a moment. It's silly, but you wish that things could stay this way forever. Just you and Trevor, safe and happy like this in your apartment, with nothing or nobody to bother you.

You share the cake and soft laughter, and then, once it's all gone, you find yourselves back on the couch, curled up together. The soft glow from the television casts a warm light over your faces, and you can't help but feel content.

"You know," Trevor says softly, "I'm sorry if today kinda sucked for ya, sugar.. I just want you to be happy, and sometimes I don't know how to make that happen."

You look up at him, surprised. "It's okay, Trev. I've been... kind of a mess lately, and this birthday business didn’t help. But…you really have made the day better." You reach out and take his hand, giving it a squeeze. "I appreciate what you did today- trying to make tonight special for me. It worked, ya know?”

He smiles down at you, his eyes shining in the dim light. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he says, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against your lips.

You smile back at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. Maybe there's hope for better days after all.