#hope his bottom surgery goes well

[kayhi808]

First Crush - 8

Your dinner & movie date was great! Dinner came out well. Bucky enjoyed it. He hadn't had a home cooked meal in a while. Bucky helps you clear the table, "I'll have to give Abby a bath & get her ready for bed, but if you want...to hang around for a bit..."

You feel his hands on your hips as he turns you around. "Yea, I think I can do that." He leans in & kisses you softly. His lips, soft but firm makes the butterflies in your belly take flight. You take his bottom lip between your teeth & tug, eliciting a soft moan from Bucky's throat.

"Mama?" Bucky jumps back, looking over his shoulder at Abby standing 3 feet away. "What doing?"

"Hey, Baby. I was on my way to get your bath started. Can you pick out your pajamas for me? You can also pick out 2 stories for tonight."

"Mama?"

"Yes."

She waddles over to hold Bucky's hand, "Can Bucky reads me a story"

You both look at Bucky. "Sure." He smiles down at her.

She claps & bounces up & down. "One story for Buckys & 2 story for yous."

"What? No, ma'am. You only get 2 stories. One for me & one for Bucky."

Abby bends over cackling, "I almost tricks yous."

"Nice try. Go find your pajamas & stories. We'll be right there." Abby skips out of the kitchen and then you're able to crack a smile. "She's only 3! By the time she's a teenager, she'll be too smart for me." Bucky drops a kiss at your temple as you pass him to get Abby's bath ready.

*****

Your evening didn't end like you would have hoped. Abby wouldn't fall asleep as long as Bucky was there. She came outside for water, monsters in her closet, monsters under the bed, to ask very important questions about Moana's Chicken if it knew how to swim in the ocean...Her interruptions were endless. Bucky left because Abby wouldn't go to sleep otherwise. Cockblocked by your own child!

You and Bucky decided that once he returns from this mission, you'd set time aside for a real date. Just the two of you. You've been so limited to lunches in your office or phone calls after Abby goes to sleep. You're dying to go on a grown-up date with Bucky.

Wednesday morning started like any other day, until an alert came in that Bucky's mission went sideways & the team suffered injuries. The med bay had to be alerted & prepped for the incoming quinjet. Bucky had been shot and one of the other agents under him was in serious condition.

It was hard for you to concentrate on work knowing Bucky was hurt. This is exactly what scared you about starting a relationship with Bucky. The fear you'll feel with every mission he leaves on. You both have kept it professional at work, but Bucky's friends know you've been seeing each other. You weren't assigned to Director Fury today, so you aren't abreast with details of the mission.

Sam drops by your office, "Hey."

Leaping up from your desk, "Sam! What happened? How is he?"

"He'll be fine. They're checking him out now. It was a through and through.

"And the other agent?"

"He's in surgery now, but it looks good." You nod, biting your bottom lip. "Want me to take you up?"

Tears fall, "I'm still working. I don't want Fury..."

Sam laughs, "Fury already knows EVERYTHING that happens here. It'll be quick. Once you see him, it'll put your mind at ease."

Wiping away your tears, "Please?" Sam nods & as you pass him, he puts his arm around your shoulder giving you a quick squeeze.

*****

You get to the med bay and Bucky is on a bed, his side patched up with a large bandage & his arm in a sling. You gasp & cover our mouth with your hands, trying to silence yourself. "Buck." It's the first time you've seen him without a shirt, you see the way his Vibranium arm in attached to him. The scars.

It's overwhelming. The abuse his poor body has taken.

"Hey, Doll." Sam nudges you towards the bed & leaves to give you both privacy.

You brush his hair off his forehead & drop a kiss on his brow before placing one on his lips. "Can I get you anything?"

He closes his eyes and shakes his head clasping your hand in his, "Nope. This is good."

You know he's medicated, so you stay until he falls asleep before you leave him.

*****

You made arrangements with a neighbor to pick up Abby from daycare, so you can visit with Bucky after work.

When you get there, Natalie, Clint & Steve are there joking with him. He looks much better than this morning.

"Hey, doll! What are you still doing here?"

Lingering in the doorway, "I asked my neighbor if she could get Abby from daycare because I'd be a little late. I wanted to check on you before I left."

Clint teases, "You don't have to worry about him. He's like a cat with nine lives. Thankfully he's able to put himself in harms way to save the day, with his super serum."

"Shut up, man."

Natasha sees you flinch, "He'll be good as new. The serum does accelerate the healing process. There's nothing to worry about."

You give her a small smile, "Yea, that's good to hear."

"Y/N?" Bucky hears the strain in your voice.

"I'm glad you're feeling better. I...I wanted to know if you needed anything before I left but looks like you're well taken care of."

"Could you guys give us a minute?"

"No, I can't stay. I need to get Abby. I don't want to be an inconvenience; you know how Abby gets. We'll talk later." You quickly go to him & drop a kiss on his brow & turn to leave, giving a small wave to the others.

*****

The following morning Director Fury had you with him in meetings. When you got back to your office, you found Bucky sitting there waiting for you. "Bucky? What are you doing here? Did they release you already?" You notice the bruise and scrapes were already healed. He still had his arm in a sling though.

"You didn't answer your phone last night."

"I'm sorry. I texted you this morning. Abby was in a mood and I fell asleep early. I was real tired." Bucky just stares at you and it makes you nervous. "Did you want me to pick up lunch for you?"

He shakes his head & continues to stare at you until you finally make eye contact with him. "Talk to me, Y/N." He waits out your silence.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Whatever's bothering you, we can talk it through. We can figure it out. At least give me a chance."

"I don't even know where to start."

"The beginning works best," getting comfortable in the chair, signaling he's not going anywhere.

"Abby's father. He was a fighter pilot with the Air Force. He had a dangerous job but he didn't die in the line of duty. It was because he was reckless. He was careless & lost control of his plane. He did that to himself."

"And you see him in me?" You see his jaw clench.

"I don't know. I know that i'm scared now. I feel more connected to you, than I did to Jason in the short time I've known you. My daughter absolutely adores you." You see a cocky smile on his face. "Those aren't good points, Bucky." Frowning at him, "Your job is dangerous and you risk your life to save others. I can't have someone else in my life who puts me & Abby second."

"And you think I'd do that?"

"I do. Clint said that because you're a Super Soldier, you take extra risks because you know you'll recover. You take a bullet for someone on the team because you know you'll survive and they will die. That's brave and heroic and I commend you on that."

"Y/N."

"But if I'm honest and selfish, if I let myself fall in love with you, where does that leave me? Abby? I don't think we have a place in your world. Your team, Mankind, will always outrank us."

"It's like you've got this all figured out."

Shaking your head, "I don't. And that's what scares me. If it was just myself I had to think about, my concerns would be different. I'd be willing to risk more." Taking a deep breath, "I'm protecting Abby the only way I know how."

"And if I promise to put you & Abby first?"

That wasn't an option you were expecting. "I don't understand."

Bucky stands and leans on your desk, "If I swear to put you and Abby first. Will you give us a chance?"

"How?"

"Let me work it out. I'm asking you to trust me? Can you do that? Can you give me time?" You silently nod as he pulls you in for a kiss. The chill of his vibranium hand on the nape of your neck giving you goosebumps. Or is it just the kiss itself?

Next chapter

@waywardhunter95 @wintrsoldrluvr @rebeccapineapple @ordelixx @onceithough @crazyunsexycool @thezombieprostitute @ilovetaquitosmmmm @julvrs @unaxv @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @winterslove1917 @ozwriterchick @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @mrsnikstan @hisredheadedgoddess28 @itsteambarnes @otterlycanadian @enchantedbarnes @purplecolordeer @samsgirl93 @buckitostan @blackbirdwitch22

[psychedelic-ink]

𝑨𝑸𝑼𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑪 𝑹𝑬𝑯𝑨𝑩𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni, no outbreak au, strangers to lovers

word count: 7.2k

summary: Joel has been experiencing knee pain for the past two months. When he finally sees an orthopedist, he learns that he has some minor damage to his meniscus. The doctor prescribes him anti-inflammatory medication and physical therapy, recommending swimming. At the pool, he meets you.

warnings: conversation about past failed relationships + sexual relationships, sarah's off at college, reader being briefly self conscious about her body, touch starved joel, oral (giving), both reader and joel not being intimate with anyone for a while, piv sex, riding for the first time, ass play, messy, joel showing small signs of relationship anxiety, sexual tension, size kink, dirty talk, joel is mentioned to be older than reader but how old isn't specified, praise kink, joel being...well-endowed

a/n: this ended up being more emotional and longer than I intended lmaodfbvfg whoops?

Joel worries his bottom lip between his teeth. His right knee bobs nervously, his jeans making a sound every time. The early morning sun filters through the small window. A soft yellow light bounces off the picture frames on the orthopedist's desk. She’s not here yet. The kind nurse had let him in early, saying she would be there shortly. It smells like medicine. It’s too clean and he doesn’t like it. 

His stomach turns. Some part of him actually hopes the doctor doesn’t come in. Joel’s not hopeful about the results. His knees have been bugging him for the past two months. Locking painfully whenever he sat too long and got up. Or when he was sitting in the truck for too long. It just started to ache out of nowhere. It had gotten worse. He’d give in, finally, after Sarah practically begged him on the phone to see a doctor. After all this time he still couldn’t say no to his sweet girl. 

The door opens with a click. Joel becomes stiff, eyes nervously following the woman. She takes a seat. Placing the folder neatly on the shiny table, she opens it and smooths it out with the flat of her palms. 

“Good morning, Mister Miller.” she says, not bothering to look at him. “I've taken a look at your knee x-rays and it seems that you have a bit of damage in your meniscus.”

His molars catch the smooth inside of his cheek and sink into it. She just said a whole lot that he doesn’t understand. He shakes his head. She’s finally looking at him, sharp eyes peering between thinned lashes. 

“Is it serious? What does that mean?” he asks, hands finding the curve of his knees. 

“Well, the good news is that it's not a major injury. There’s just a bit of damage in the tissues and can be treated with some medication and physical therapy. You won’t need surgery unless it escalates. Which, hopefully, it won’t.”

“Okay, that's good to hear. What kind of medication and therapy do I need?”

“I'm going to prescribe you some anti-inflammatory medication to help reduce the swelling and pain in your knee. And as for physical therapy, I'd recommend you try swimming. It's a low-impact exercise that can help strengthen the muscles around your knee and promote healing. I also have some stretches I want to show you. I want you to do them daily.” 

She closes the folder, picks up a deck of Post-it notes, and starts scribbling something. 

“You were a contractor, right? I’m going to need you to refrain from heavy lifting for a while. No jumping, no running, no extreme movements that can affect your knee. Some walking is fine, but not a lot.” 

“Well,” he smacks his lips. Now relaxed, he leans back into the chair and crosses his arms. “There goes my weekend plans.” 

“Do you work out a lot? Because this is quite common in athletes.” 

“Uh…It was a joke.” 

“Oh.” 

Suddenly he’s fidgety again. Not wanting to look dumb, he explains. “Because you said jumpin’ and runnin’ and no one spends their weekend jumpin’ do they?” 

A nervous laughter bubbles in his throat, and he manages to swallow it down. She nods and peels the paper away. Handing it to Joel, she looks at him with a small smile. 

“Sorry about that, it’s still early. And you’re right. They don’t. 

You step into the small shower cabin and allow the cold water to trace over your skin and wash away the outside. The elastic of your swimming cap digs into your forehead, the goggles applying pressure right above your head. Slightly irritated, you sneak two fingers under where the plastic starts, allowing your head to breathe one last time before taking a dip in the pool. You come here almost every day. It’s relaxing, soothing. 

Your fingers slip as you twist the knob, turning off the spray of water. You might be biased due to your childhood, but you love the pool. You love the chlorine that fills your lungs with every breath. It’s sharp and pungent, leaving a slight burn in your lungs. During summers your parents would send you off to summer camp, which you thoroughly enjoyed. Though, calling it a “camp” felt wrong. It wasn’t outdoors, and you would return after the day ended, just like regular school, but instead of math, there was swimming and basketball. 

You remember those days fondly, which is why you sigh blissfully at the scent whereas a lot of people would wrinkle their noses. 

Walking to the pool, you roll your shoulders. You wince upon hearing them crack. It’s been a long week. Your gaze lifts to the ceiling. The soft pitter patters of rain echoes. You love to swim when it rains. It also meant there would be fewer people, and no children. You don’t have anything against the tiny humans, but they had a habit of being loud. 

You spot an older couple, their bodies swaying in a lazy backstroke, their voices spilling out in laughter. You also notice one other person that’s aggressively swimming back and forth. In one lane, you notice a man. His cap and black goggles make it hard to catch a glimpse of his face. It’s hardly inappropriate, but you can’t resist stealing a few more glances at him. 

You take in his broad shoulders, thick neck, and shapely arms. You narrow your eyes. You catch a glimpse of his salt and pepper beard, the darker hue of his mustache hinting at the  color of his hair. Your eyes drop to his hands, hidden in the water up to the knuckles. He clenches them into fists before releasing them.

Your curiosity piques. You’ve never seen him before, he looks lost. He’s standing above the built-in stairs which are mainly used for people who are just learning to swim. He takes another step lower. The light blue water splashes over his soft stomach and he jerks away. You instinctively smile. You usually don’t reach out to people. If they smile at you, you smile back or talk about the weather. But the stranger’s nervous energy prompts you to take a couple of steps closer—close enough that he can hear you. You take a deep breath, pressing your nails into your palms, you push down the thoughts about your own appearance. No one really looks that good in a one piece. You feel exposed, which is why you usually dip into the water as fast as you can before anyone can get a good look. 

“Hi there,” you squeak, with an awkward lift of your hand. The man stiffens and turns. Your own image is reflected back at you thanks to the goggles he wears. “Sorry to bother you, I was just…wondering if you need help?” 

He stares at you in silence for a brief moment, his brows drawn together with confusion. But a moment later he relaxes, his shoulders drop and he playfully shakes his head. 

Finally, he removes the goggles, and you see his eyes— his gorgeous, big brown eyes. Your breath catches in your throat. You’re suddenly feeling very clammy and sweaty. 

“Is it that obvious?” he asks, a grin teasing at his lips. “My doctor said I need to start swimmin’ before my knees give out entirely.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” 

He waves his hand in dismissal, “Don’t be. It's nothin’ that serious, just small damage to my meniscus. I know how to swim, so it’s nothin’ like that but I guess my nerves are fried from worryin’ all weak about the results. My brain still ain’t convinced that everythin’ is fine.” 

God, he’s gorgeous. All you can do is focus on the movement of his lips. Him speaking is enough to fluster you. You need to get it together before he thinks you’re a creep. You part your lips, but the words die in your throat as you watch him. He starts climbing the steps one by one with an extended hand. The water cascades down his body, his trunks sticking to his thighs. In a fit of panic, you glue your eyes to his. 

“I’m Joel by the way.” he takes your hand and gives it two firm shakes. You introduce yourself but all you can hear is your own frantic heartbeat. 

“I’m glad it’s nothing serious,” you blurt out. You have no idea what to say or what you’re doing. “If you’re nervous we can do a couple of laps together if you want—if you’re comfortable with that, of course.” 

You swear your heart stops when his eyes flit across your face, assessing how serious you are. His smile never fades. You inhale sharply when his tongue darts out from between his lips, sweeping over his damp bottom lip.

“I bet you say that to all the older guys.” 

“Only the cute ones.” 

Clearly, the circuits between your brain and mouth are heavily damaged because there’s no way on god’s green earth did you just say that. You blink fast. Images of you choking out another you vivid in your mind. You’re insane—only the ones that are cute, who even says that? No more romantic comedies for you. 

Joel pushes his shoulders back. He exhales a deep breath, his chest heaving. 

“Well, ain’t that kind of you.” he takes a step back into the water, some part of you regrets not sneaking at least one more glance at his nethers. “I guess I should take you up on your offer. It’s only polite.” 

A nervous bubble of laughter escapes your throat. You don’t say anything and follow him into the pool. You’re glad to be finally submerging your body in water. Ever since you were little you would believe that water had magical healing properties. You would go into the water, thinking that someone it would speak to you. Despite being an adult, you still think that sometimes. It just makes life a little bit more fun. You know it’s stupid to think of chloric water having any kind of benefit to your body, however, it’s hard to break old thought patterns. 

Joel dips head first, and after watching his distorted silhouette underwater, you follow. You smile, bubbles coming from your nose. Your spine cracks as your body becomes more fluid. You turn around so you are facing upwards. Light bounces on top of the small waves. The ceiling is nothing but a blur of white and blue. Some part of you wishes this was an open pool so you could feel the vibrations of raindrops hitting the waterline. 

Turning again, you notice Joel moving up. His head pops above water. You take one last glance at his body before propelling yourself up, joining him. 

Your eyes follow the way waterdrops smooths a line down from his neck to his shoulder. Your mouth goes dry. 

“So,” you say. “Did your doctor give you any specific exercises?” 

He shakes his head, “She just told me to go swimmin’. And not to put pressure on my knees.” 

You think for a bit before answering, “Alright then. We’ll just take it slow, so a couple of laps first, take small breaks in between.” 

“You…really don’t have to, you know,” Joel looks almost guilty before his eyes move away from yours. Confused, you raise an eyebrow. 

“I don’t have to what?” 

“Swim with me.” 

You feel your heart shattering into tiny pieces of glass that stick to your lungs. His voice is barely above a whisper, cracking at the end of his sentence. Your body moves towards his by instinct. The most natural thing would be to place your hand on his cheek and pull him for a tender kiss. Your body singing at you to do it. And man, you’re tempted alright. You want to trace the seam of his lips with your tongue, taste the chlorine on his lips. 

You ball your hands into tight fists, thankful to be hidden underwater. You recognize the loneliness that maps across his handsome countenance. 

“I know I don’t have to,” you say instead. He looks back at you with surprise, eyes immediately dropping to your wet lips. “I want to.” 

He lets out a breath of relief, and nods, a smile gracing his lips. “A’right then. As long as I’m not keepin’ you from anythin’.” 

The swimming had gone well. Joel definitely had the body and stamina for it, and the more laps he did, the more confident he became with his strokes. You found yourself staring at him openly, stealing glances before you dipped below the water, hiding your embarrassment. 

However, he was still a beginner, and he’s knees began to ache after the tenth lap. He insisted that you continue without him as he sat at the side of the pool. You were hesitant at first but agreed, however, your cheeks burned from the mere prospect of that man watching you swim. 

When you’re done, you catch him staring at you with a fond smile lingering on his lips. You imagine that’s the same look he’d give you with the first rays of sunlight after a rather passionate night. 

Your pussy bottoms out, heat spreading between your legs. You inhale sharply, accidentally snorting a bit of water. It burns and your eyes water, but you manage to swallow down the frantic coughs that threaten to rip from your throat. 

“Sweet little mermaid.” he mutters as you approach, eyes following you with greed. Your breath hitches, and Joel loses his grounding for a moment. He clears his throat and looks away. “You swim well.” 

“Thanks,” you answer. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

You ignore the heat that emanates from his thigh, your arms accidentally brushing against the hard muscle. You clumsily push yourself out of the pool and take a seat next to him. 

“How’re your knees feeling?” you ask. 

He lets out a hum, stretching his legs underwater. “They’re fine. Hopefully, this works.” 

“I’m sure it will.” 

"Even if it doesn't work out, at least I won't be going home empty-handed," he says with a smile. Your eyes flick to him and widen slightly. Very inappropriately, your nipples tighten. A blush starts from his neck and spreads across his broad chest, you notice the goosebumps bursting over his skin. He starts to fidget with his thumbs. “And by that, I mean that I got to meet you. I think I put that weirdly.” 

The world comes rushing back and you feel the soft waves of the pool on your skin again. You smile. Without thinking much, you playfully nudge his shoulder with your own. A soft chuckle parts his lips as he leans into you. Neither of you moves away from the other. 

“So,” you say, flinching at how high-pitched you sound. “Is there a Mrs. Joel?” 

He laughs. The sound reminds you of an open field with colorful flowers dancing side to side with the wind. Instinctively, you sigh, your lashes kissing your cheeks. 

“Nope,” he answers. “What about you?” 

You shake your head, “I’ve been single for two years.” 

“I find that hard to believe.” 

“Well,” you look ahead, the old couple you spotted before is getting out of the pool. “My heart got broken quite a few times. I think without noticing I closed myself off after my last relationship. I find it hard to open up now and—” you cut off, your gaze drifting back to him. You bark an uncomfortable-sounding laugh and drop your head to your chest. “Aaand, I have no idea why I’m telling you this. Sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize, darlin’. For what it’s worth, I haven’t been with anyone for a long time either.” 

You grin and raise an eyebrow, “I find that hard to believe.” 

Joel smiles but it’s a soft one, like he’s remembering something—or in this case, someone. With unblinking eyes, you wait for him to elaborate. He notices your gaze, his smile stretches into a grin. 

“It’s not that interestin’ of a story,” he sighs. “I had my daughter when I was quite young. Mother left. And until Sarah went to college there was no one. After she left…I had a couple of flings but that’s pretty much it. Nothin’ long term.” 

“You have a daughter?” 

“Uh, yeah.” he answers, scratching the back of his head. You feel kind of bad now that you made him feel awkward. That wasn’t your intention at all. You’re surprised, but you find it to be sweet that he has a daughter. It must’ve been hard to raise her on his own. 

Before you can say anything, you sense him pulling back, both emotionally and physically. His shoulder isn’t pressed against yours anymore, the lack of contact makes you ache. He moves his legs languidly under the water, your gaze follows the movement. 

“I know it might be awkward. And not ideal. But I would love it if we could get to know each other more.” 

Your ears burning, you take his hand into yours, squeezing it tightly. If he’s surprised by your sudden gesture, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t look at you and you squeeze again, drawing his gaze back to you. 

“That’s not why I asked. That was probably a bit insensitive of me, I was just surprised and it came out wrong.” you let out a breath of relief when his thumb begins to draw slow circles over your skin. A shiver settles at the base of your spine. “And I would very much like to get to know you.” 

Your heart skips a beat at the way his entire face lights up. Looking at him proving to be similar to looking into the sun, you lower your gaze and grin. You feel dizzy. 

“Does that mean I can ask for your number sunshine?” he asks and leans closer. His warm breath fanning your cheek. 

You nod, “Of course.” 

The pleasant buzz that thrums in your veins soon shift into one of simmering annoyance. Of course, someone took—no, stole—your umbrella. It’s just your luck. It’s raining cats and dogs and all you can do is watch the heavy drops collide with concrete as you wait outside. You look up to the sky, pleading that it stops. You love the rain, love listening to it, but only if you’re surrounded by your cozy home wrapped in a blanket. Or if you’re swimming. 

You could’ve handled a soft drizzle, sometimes you even enjoyed walking under the rain, but not this. You swear one of those drops alone can poke an eye out. It’s deafening. Thunder echoes, and you can’t help but flinch. Everything is so loud. Your body is refreshed, but at the same time, your muscles are drained from all the swimming. Exhausted from the workout and the excitement, all you want is a cozy nook with a steaming cup of tea and a good book.

You don’t have much else to do until the rain stops, therefore, you think of Joel. He’d been truly a splendid surprise. Sometimes life sucked but moments like those made it better. After exchanging numbers, he’d promised to call you as soon as he was back home. 

A smile tugs at your lips. You find it cute that he said he called instead of texting you. You’ll get to hear his voice which is a huge plus. 

You’re viciously ripped away from your thoughts when a loud honk echoes above the rain. With your hairs standing on edge, you see a truck with the window pulled down. You narrow your eyes. The rain and headlights create a thick fog, making it difficult to see clearly. 

“Joel?” you call out, hoping that you’re seeing right. 

“Hey,” he answers, leaning over and popping the door open for you. “Hop in.” 

You take the first step, a bit uncertain with your movements in fear that it might be an illusion created by the stormy night, but it’s not. The leather seat under you is solid and so is the man sitting next to you. You wipe your face with your sleeve. 

“Thanks. You basically saved my ass right now. Some asshole stole my umbrella.” 

He grins, “It’s the least I could do.” 

The rain pounds relentlessly against the windshield, the sound a chaotic symphony that drowns out everything else. Thunder rumbles in the distance, and you flinch as a particularly loud crack splits through the air. You jump in your seat. Joel’s hand lands softly on your thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You look at him, surprised, and he meets your gaze with a small smile.

“Is this alright?” he asks, his voice gentle as he squeezes.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. His touch is warm and inviting. Like a soft caress that makes your skin tingle. You feel a sudden urge to lean into him, to climb on top of his lap, and allow his wide hands to roam all over your back. 

Joel starts the car and drives onto the road. The world outside is a blur of colors and lights. Neon signs flicker in the rain, casting a rainbow of colors on the wet pavement. The buildings are tall and imposing, like ancient giants looming over the city. The headlights of passing cars slice through the darkness, creating sharp streaks of light that dance across your vision.

You watch the world pass by in a daze, lost in thought. The rain is a soothing sound, like a lullaby that whispers you to sleep. Joel’s hand on your thigh is a comforting presence, grounding you in reality. 

The rain grows louder, the drops striking the windshield almost violently. Much to your disappointment, he pulls his hand away, leaving you feeling a sudden emptiness. You open your eyes, watching as he shifts gears and maneuvers the car through the busy streets.

You lean your head against the window, watching the world outside blur by in a dizzying whirl. You don’t have much to say and that’s okay. His presence isn’t forcing you to make awkward small talk. You’re completely content just being here with him, a moment you’re positive that you’ll never forget, no matter which direction your relationship with him goes. 

When you finally pull up to your house, dread washes over you. You want to invite him inside for something warm, as a thank you for rescuing you from the rain. But you’re not entirely sure that you should. 

You push back your worries.

“This is me,” you break the silence. "Would you like to come inside for a bit? I have tea and coffee— or perhaps you would prefer wine to warm you up?" 

The last addition was meant as a joke, a little bit of humor to break the tension. Joel’s lips are tightly pressed together, his knuckles almost white from how hard he’s squeezing the steering wheel. After grueling moments of silence, he swallows and turns off the car. 

“Wine sounds great.” 

The sound of your front door closing behind you feels momentous. Ironically enough, you don’t get to open the bottle of wine. You kiss him first, and he follows, pushing you up against the wall with possessive hands. You barely manage to push the door closed. He’s all consuming. Inhaling your chlorine scented skin and drinking lust from your lips. He kneads your breasts in his large palms and you gasp into his mouth, he swallows the sound. Parting away, he licks the seam of your lips before leveling you with a steady gaze. 

“I promised myself to take this slow,” he rasps, panting heavily. When the first hints of laughter tickle the back of your throat, he takes hold of your hips and presses them firmly together. You feel the hardness of his length through the fabric of his jeans. Your eyes roll back. “That feels good don’t it—fuck—I just don’t want to fuck this up, you’re really nice and—” 

“Joel,” you say, cupping his cheeks and forcing him to meet your gaze. “Calm down. You’re not going to fuck this up. We’re in this together. I really want this, you do too. But if you want to go slow, have that wine, we’ll go slow. But I don’t want you to be stressed out of your mind no matter what you choose, okay?” 

He exhales a breath, deep and steady. “Okay,” he says, hands squeezing your hips. “Okay. Sorry ‘bout that. I hope I didn’t scare you off.” 

“You could never,” you say, brushing your lips together. “So, what do you wanna do?” 

“I think I want to show you to a good time, sweetheart.” 

“Meaning?” 

“I want to fuck you.” he swallows. “If you want it too.” 

“Oh, believe me. I do.” 

You catch the curve of a mischievous smile before he crashes into you, claiming your lips in a heady kiss. He pushes a leg between your thighs and your grind down, gasping at the friction. Warmth gathers under the tissue of your stomach, everlasting. It’s been so long since you felt like this. The heat of someone tearing you apart and pulling you back again. 

A pleasant tingle spreads from your legs up your spine. Joel licks into you, his tongue moving over yours. He nips at your bottom lip. You whine when he parts away, his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck. He feels your pulse with his lips. An involuntary giggle leaves you as his mustache chafes the skin. He teeths at the flesh and you grind your hips down once more, wetness growing between your legs. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathes shakily. “Show me to the bedroom.” 

The trip to the bedroom is a disorienting one; A blur of limbs and kisses being traded with one another. You feel like a teenager, not being able to keep away not even for a second. You don’t bother to close the bedroom door. Joel pulls your shirt off, your ears left ringing at the force of it while your hands fumble with his zipper. Joel chuckles and bats your hands away. The way you furrow your brows goes unnoticed. He dips his head, closing his lips around the tight nipple. 

Your legs start to shake. He flicks his tongue, the tight nub pebbling swiftly. Your head falls back, a deep moan coming from the back of your throat. He sucks and moves his jaw, applying pressure. While one hand rests over the curve of your waist, the other promptly toys with your unattended nipple, pinching and twisting until it’s hard and aching. 

“Shit—Joel—” you gasp, voice quivering. “It’s been a while, it feels so good. Fuck.” 

He parts away from your chest, the tip of his tongue swirling deftly around the areola. His warm breath makes you shiver. “That’s okay honey, I’ve got you.” 

“Take this off,” you mumble in a daze, pulling at the hem of his shirt. You bend your knees to cup his erection, it pulses under your palm. “And take these off too. I want you in my mouth.” 

“You’re killin’ me, sweetheart,” he breathes out. “You’d like that, huh? My cock in your mouth, cummin’ down your throat as you wrap them pretty lips around me—what a sight it would be.” 

“Fuck yes,” you choke out, gently pushing him towards the bed. 

You’re almost delusional in the way you speak and move. He’d painted you a picture you so desperately wanted to make into reality. You tug off his shirt as he kicks off his jeans along with his underwear. A sharp exhale parts your lips when you feel his dripping cock against your lower stomach. Heavy and hot, pressing against your skin. You wrap your fingers around the base and they barely close around him. The tips of your ears burn. 

“J-Joel, oh my god,” you say with awe. “I-I don’t know if I can take you all.” 

His fingers touch the back of your neck and he pulls you between his legs as the two of you tumble onto the bed. He gently squeezes, your body melting at the touch. His lips touch your ear. 

“Sure you can, sunshine. We’ll just take it nice and slow, a’right? I’ll fuck this pretty little cunt with just the tip if I have to, it feels good all the same.” his thumb traces your bottom lip, and slowly, he pushes the digit into your mouth. Your eyes fluttering, you suck his thumb. “Just get my dick nice and wet with this dirty tongue of yours. Been twitchin’ since you uttered the words.”  

He pops out his thumb and leaves wet streaks across your cheek. You move down his body, dragging your nails down the swell of his stomach as you get closer and closer to his length. Joel hisses when you wetly kiss the tip, a bead of precum forming. You wrap one hand around the base and rest the other over his stomach, fingers caressing the coarse hairs that form a sinful trail. 

“You’re so big,” you whisper, lips dancing over the length of his throbbing cock. He moans. “That swimsuit of yours doesn’t do you justice at all.” 

“If you continue to talk like that I’m going to bust,” he chokes, hands fisting the sheets. “Please just—” he swallows. “Just stop toyin’ with me.” 

Answering him with a throaty hum, you dip your tongue into the slit, groaning at the taste of him. His cock twitches against your lips, smearing precum over the tender swell of it. Parting your mouth wide, you take the bulbous head between your lips and flatten your tongue. You feel a vein that curls underneath his length. You groan and take him deeper. He’s been truly blessed, the width stretching you wide, forcing saliva to dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your cunt clenches around nothing. Slick glistening at the insides of your thighs. 

You’re still worried about not being able to take him all. You want to feel every inch of him buried deep inside, and even though Joel assured you that it would be okay, you still want this to go perfectly. It’s been a long time for you both, you want it to feel good for him too. 

“Deeper,” he croaks out and when you look up, you find those gorgeous, dazed out, brown eyes looking down at you. “Can you?” 

Your lids flutter heavily. Nodding, you force your head down, your chin straining as you take him halfway. Your vision blurs with tears. Spit oozes down his length, your throat convulsing at the pressure. 

“You’re takin’ it so well,” he praises through grit teeth, his southern drawl deeper and more noticeable than before. “So fuckin’ well. You feel so good—I ain’t gonna last sweetheart.” 

Encouraged by his sudden honesty, you mentally grin. And with more fervor than before, you bounce your head up and down while stroking the rest with your hand. Briefly you remove your lips, swipe your palm over the head and move it back down, coating the rest of him with slick. You take him again, his thighs tightening around your frame, shaking uncontrollably as he forces his hips to remain still. 

Moans echo from the back of Joel’s throat, filling the room with his deep cadence. He reaches out for your hand and locks your fingers together, holding you and guiding your hand further up his stomach. You’re a bit unbalanced now. His cock spears almost painfully down your throat. While trying to limit yourself with only the half of his length, his cock twitches, and throbs. You repeatedly swallow around him, your hand starting to shake. 

Large drops of precum coat your tongue and go down your throat, his grip on your hand painfully tight. You breathe heavily through your nose. He’s about to come. With a ferality you haven’t felt with anyone before, you push apart your legs and force yourself down against the sheets. The soft fabric doing little when it grazes your aching clit. You moan around him. 

Then you find yourself empty. A gasp rips from your throat at the way Joel pulls you off his cock, breathing in heavy pants. Your gaze drops to his cock. The head a beautiful shade of red, glistening with precome and spit. You lick your lips. 

“Sorry,” he grunts, pulling you so that you’re straddling his waist. He pushes himself up by the elbows, face only an inch away from yours. “I didn’t wanna come just yet. Need to feel you around me, sunshine.” 

He closes the distance and claims you with a devout kiss. He tastes himself on your tongue, hips jerking up in a weak attempt to seek you out. You breathe him in. The scent of chlorine and something so undeniable Joel fills your lungs. 

“Don’t keep me waiting then,” you grin against his lips. He mimics your expression grinning as he lays back down. He guides you to raise your hips, and briefly, worry crosses your face. 

A question quickly follows, “What’s wrong?” 

“I…fuck, it’s stupid. Don’t worry about it.” but of course, he doesn’t let go and fixes you a look that has you spilling your guts. “It’s just been a while and well. I’ve never actually done it like…this.” 

“You never rode someone before?” 

You shake your head and bite your bottom lip. Frowning, he touches the abused flesh with his thumb and tugs it away, smoothing it with the pad of his finger. 

“We can switch positions. It’s okay.” 

“But I want to try it.” your words coming out in a rush, it’s followed by a nervous laughter. “I always did, but my partners usually had other plans. And after a while, I just generally chickened out and stopped asking. I got embarrassed.” 

“Oh, honey.” 

Your eyes widen upon feeling his arms around you, pulling you into a bear hug. His hand cradles the back of your head and you bury your face into the crook of his neck. You kiss the skin. Warmth blossoming in your chest. Both of you suspended in the moment, breathing each other in and out. Soon, his fingers trace a path down your spine, and a chill spreads at the end of your back. 

“Believe me,” he mutters, you feel the movement of his jaw. “I would want nothin’ more than to have you on top of me, takin’ you deep. I’m sorry those assholes made you feel otherwise.” 

You choke out a sound, smiling and shaking your head. “It’s not that they were assholes—well, maybe some of them—but maybe I just wasn’t good at expressing myself. Or I just didn’t look…” you clear your throat, his arms tighten around you, forcing the air out of your lungs. “Anyway, it’s not important.” 

“You express yourself fine if you ask me.” his thumb skims over your clit and you gasp. The digit slides between your folds with ease, he hums in approval. “And it looks like your body is expressin’ itself quite well too.” 

An understanding without words forms between your two. He cups your ass and you lift yourself up by holding onto his broad shoulders. Joel jerks himself with one hand before he motions you to lower yourself. Despite how soaking wet you are, the stretch still makes you wince. You continue a bit further, having to stop when it proves to be more painful than pleasurable. Sliding his one hand back to your front, he leisurely circles around your clit. You clench and dig your nails into his shoulders. 

“That’s it, go slow sweetheart. We have all the time in the world. You’re doin’ so good for me. Spreading yourself around my cock like that.” 

Feeling yourself becoming loose, you sink further down, only having to stop again a few inches later. You groan in frustration and Joel puts his mouth on your breasts, sucking. 

You draw in a long breath, “Is that all of it?”

Joel looks up and allows himself to smile. 

“Well, nearly. Just a bit more.” 

His mouth moves down and captures your nipple between his lips. Your walls flutter around him, adjusting to his size. With a moan, you sink down completely, his hips flush against yours. Joel breaks away from your tender skin, both of you moaning loudly in unison. His head falls back against the bedpost, staring at you between heavy lids. He looks completely blissed out. 

Wanting more of the debouched expression, you ever so slightly move up your hips and sit back down again. His eyes squeeze shut, his throat trembling with a wrecked groan. You’re not doing any better, your eyes rolling back as your muscles start to spasm. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re wet. Shit. Can I move, sunshine? Please?” 

“God yes,” you breathe out, your head spinning. His hands cup your rear, helping you to lift halfway off his cock before lowering you again. Electricity runs up your spine. Your cry out his name, pulsing around him uncontrollably. “J-Joel, I don’t think I’m gonna last,” you say apologetically. 

“That’s okay,” he groans, voice hoarse. “I ain’t gonna last long either.” 

The two of you capture a soft rhythm that works for the both of you. Joel guides the sloppy roll of your hips, and you do your best to move up and down his cock. Your legs aching due to the swimming. You want to go faster, the burning between your legs growing with every grind of your hips. There’s an itch deep inside. An inch that you can’t seem to scratch with the way you’re moving. You whimper and fix Joel a pleading look. His cock twitches. 

“You want it harder?” he rasps, lashes fluttering. 

“Yes,” you exhale. “Give it to me, Joel. I want you to fuck me hard with this big cock of yours.” you make a show of rolling your tongue and pressing your hips flush against him, grinding yourself into his pelvis. 

“The mouth on you, Jesus.” he drawls but with a smile. Your heart skips a beat, a grin of your own touching your lips. 

You’re confused when Joel sucks two fingers into his mouth. Not that you’re complaining. You see the pink of his tongue, the glistening spit that coats his thick fingers. Pulling them out, Joel massages your asscheeks and spreads them, you moan as the open air hits your other hole. He brushes two wet fingers over the rim, making you quiver. 

“Feels good?” 

You nod and he slips one finger, your entire body jolts, your breath catching in your throat. However, you don’t have time to focus on the new sensation. Joel presses his feet into the mattress and with fervor, he starts fucking up into you. Railing you until you’re gasping for air and left feeling nothing else but the heavy stroke of his cock. You shout his name, your lungs burn. 

“That’s it make a mess of me, darlin’. Such a good fuckin’ girl. All you need is my help isn’t it? Look at you, doin’ so well for me.” the words he continues to mutter force out a visceral reaction from you. You claw at his chest. Dragging them down as his cock spears into you over and over. The slick sounds echoing throughout the room. You notice him watching where you two connect, he looks hypnotized. His lips parting as he watches his cock disappear into your wet cunt. 

He pushes his finger in deeper and you’re suddenly aware of how full you feel. Your arms that keep you upright buckle and you fall down, covering him like a blanket. An apology touches your lips, but before you can, Joel’s lips are already on your temple, kissing and whispering praise all the while continuing to fuck you senseless. He pulls out his finger and slightly lifts your hips for a better angle. You whine at the loss and hear him chuckle. 

“Another time, sunshine.” 

Your walls start to spasm and contract, his hips start to stutter. His strong steady strokes becoming sloppy and rushed, he pushes you down against him rolling his hips and grinding deeper into you. Fuck. Your head is spinning violently. Your cunt dripping and making a mess of his cock. He rubs into you again, the dark hairs that crown his length stimulating your throbbing clit. 

A silent scream shakes your chest. You see white before you squeeze him tight, the force of it making his breath hitch. You gush around him. Slick rolling down his cock and seeping into the sheets. You don’t even notice the wet tears smeared all over your face as you nuzzle him. Waves of pleasure wash over you again and again. Leaving you shaking and panting for air. Joel holds you still, his hands comforting against your heated skin. 

Your jaw goes slack when he gently thrusts up again, shushing you when you let out a whine. 

“Where do you want me?” 

It takes you a while to understand the question. Lifting your head, you give him a blank stare. His eyes glimmer with amusement, a lopsided smile forming on his lips. 

“Look at you,” he coos. “Pretty little thing completely fucked out. You look beautiful, sweetheart.” 

You’re pretty sure you actually purr at his words. You leisurely smile. You lift your hips and push them back down, both of you groaning in delight. He keeps uttering pretty from under his breath, his own composure breaking down. Another orgasm rolls over you, albeit much softer this time, like a fire warming your skin. You sigh happily, kissing him on the lips. 

“Where?” he asks, a bit more desperate this time. 

“My mouth.” 

“Oh, fuck.” 

Everything is sloppy and uncoordinated. You’re not even sure how you make your way down between his legs. You’re still throbbing when you suck on the tip, your eyes closing as you taste the mixture of you and himself. You take him as deep as you can, feeling him at the back of your throat. He holds your head but doesn’t force you to the more. 

“Sweetheart, move your tongue.” 

Your skin prickles at how hoarse he sounds. You happily obliged, stroking the underside of his cock with the flat of your tongue. He sucks in a sharp breath, his chest expanding, and on the exhale, he lets out the loudest moan of the night. It comes from the depths of his lungs. His hips jerk, finally spilling down your throat, you swallow him greedily, your walls pulsing with a need to be stretched again. 

He comes and comes and comes. There’s so much of it. It floods your mouth, trickling down your chin. You breathe heavily. His cock throbs on your tongue and god you love the feeling. 

“Fuuuuuuuuuck, that felt so good.” his hands fall limp to his side. With a grin, you release his cock and swallow once more, more audibly this time. His dark gaze drops to your lips. He shakily wipes the come that spilled from your lips, popping it back into your mouth. You lick at the digit eagerly. “I should thank whoever it was that stole your umbrella,” he mumbles. 

“We should get them a cake,” you tease, kissing the empty patch on his beard. “So…should we get cleaned up and then…talk?” 

He squeezes your hips and then follows the curve of your spine. “Sounds like a plan, sunshine.” 

You end up sharing that bottle of wine after all. 

[chrliekclly]

if you ever want to talk about your thoughts on joyce .. Peeks over the corner of your blog. i love talking and hearing ppls thoughts on joyce sooo much even if they're different from my own!! and your analysis and stuff is always so well thought out

i hope u dont mind if i answer this publicly to take advantage of th request nd get my ideas out ther (also tyvm im happy u like my insane takes on these idiots, iv ben thinking abt them for almost 10 years)

i said a lot here so gnna 'read more' it

iv ben building trans charlie n my head fr, like i said, nearly 10 years. i used to view him as cis bcuz i always try to take as much frm th source material as i can wen i craft my HCs nd i had v personal (stupid) hangups insofar as him explicitly referring to his junk multiple times nd bottom surgery simply not being on my radar as a naive littl trans idiot deep in th sauce tht transmen oftn fall into w phallo being viewed so so poorly

evn still i leaned towards transmasc charlie nd always lovd moments tht let me imagine, for a moment, it being true, like his discomfort w taking off his shirt [hundred dollar baby, charlie kelly: king of the rats, the gang exploits the mortgage crisis, young charlie and mac deleted scenes, etc etc etc], or bonnie yelling abt ppl stealing her "charlie-girl" [the waitress is getting married] which i lovd to see as her accidentally misgendering him while drunk off her ass.

having grown out of my phallo issues (nd if ur reading this and u still view phallo super poorly, please do some research and grow too), ive in recent years fully subscribed to transmasc/nb charlie, and view his timeline something like this:

baby -> elementary: charlie refers to himself as a boy, doesnt "come out," simply has no idea he's afab. bonnie lets him dress however he wants and refers to him as asked. when charlie gets confused about his genitals, bonnie says his dick will grow in later lol, makes charlie wear a dress in public restrooms and tells him its just a game

middle: puberty hits and charlie gets confused and scared. bonnie puts him on blockers w.o explaining them ("my mom used to vaccinate me like every month" [the gang gets quarantined]) charlie goes on content and oblivious. STP acquired because hes "a late bloomer" and his dicks still not growing in?? weird. confides this in mac once, but he doesn't understand.

high: charlie finally registers that he's trans after forgetting theres a health class 1 day and not being able to skip it. throws him for a loop a bit but he becomes actively invested in his goals. he gets to start T and wants to have surgeries. "what guy hasnt done some extensive research on his own genitalia?" [mac is a serial killer]

college (aged): able to surgically transition (ty medicare) and continues on with life as we kno him now

joyce, imo, fits neatly into these views.

as a transmasc nb who came out young nd prefers to be seen as just A Guy by strangers, i grew up v vehemently against anything girly that might get me misgendered, but th more i began to 'pass,' th more @ home n my body i felt, th more and more comfortable i am w femininity, th more i wdnt mind putting on a dress, as long as th general public wd see me as "a man in women's clothes." n my mind, i prescribe something not exactly th same but v similar to charlie.

i see charlie "i dont really identify" kelly as afab and nb. i see joyce as a "character" he originally created to distance himself from the dysphoria of putting on a dress as a young trans boy, but that became part of him as the hard lines he drew in the sand as a child became blurry with age and self acceptance. charlie's comfort with himself allows joyce to evolve into a more solid persona, one he enjoys embodying and allowing to become a permanent facet of who he is. he's ok with being referred to as either. they're both him.

so maybe joyce comes out a bit more outside of the bathroom now.

[devildomcuties]

Flower Petals

thank you for sending in this request :)

pairing: levi x f. reader

genre: f2l, angst, fluff, 18+

summary: You were unaware that unrequited love could lead to your death.

wc: 887

warnings: near death!reader, some Sol x reader if you squint

date: August 23, 2024

You’re not entirely sure when it started, the days blur into one another as time goes by until the sight of Leviathan is too much to bear.

The first time you cough up flower petals, you’re surprised. You cover your mouth as Levi comes into view, his brow raised in question. You make a hasty run for the doors, running to find Solomon.

The paper gown Solomon makes you wear while he turns his bedroom into a doctor’s office, itches. 

“What’s wrong with me, Sol?” you ask as you watch for flower petals. You’re almost too afraid to speak. You managed to salvage one unlucky pink petal that had clung to your shirt in your haste to run away from Levi.

Solomon, runs a few tests, resting his chin on his fist. He shines a light in your eyes, checks your heart rate, and blood pressure, and takes notes.

After a few minutes, he makes a screen appear, and a projector. 

Lucifer’s face appears on the screen, then Mammon’s, Satan’s Asmo’s, Beel and Belphie. When no reaction comes, Solomon shows Levi.

“That’s,” you don’t get to finish as you cough up a handful of pretty pink petals. Solomon hums as he shows you a short clip of Leviathan at karaoke. Your face heats as you cough, your throat aching as flower petals escape your mouth.

Solomon turns off the screen, making it disappear soon after along with the projector. 

“Just as I thought,” Solomon states. “You’ve got Hanahaki disease.”

“I’ve got what?” You ask, scared that you’ll have to endure another coughing fit.

“Hanahaki disease,” Solomon repeats as he hands you a pamphlet. You read through it while Solomon turns his examination room back to his bedroom, getting you dressed in your RAD uniform in the process.

“What am I supposed to do?” you ask hopelessly. 

“There’s a surgery,” Solomon bites his bottom lip. “But the disease is recurring, so even if the surgery helps, it won’t stop it from returning.”

“So there’s no hope?!”

“I’m afraid not,” Solomon frowns. “You can confess.”

“I can’t do that. Levi’s my best friend. He would never see me as more,” you frown as you wipe a few tears away. “Thanks for your help, Sol. I appreciate it.”

You take the pamphlet with you as you head to HoL. 

~

Months later you’ve been avoiding Leviathan whenever possible. You’ve been hanging out with Belphie and Beel more and more.

Your disease has developed further. You’ve gotten sicker, and sicker. You have a few coughing spells, but now whole flowers leave your mouth more often than not.

You’ve spent days isolated in your bedroom, only allowing Solomon to see you.

“You should tell him before it’s too late,” Solomon sighs as he moves your hair off your brow to place a cool washcloth on it.

“I can’t, Sol. You said you understood,” you cough again, your lungs hurting as you expel what you can but roots have started embedding themselves in your organs.

“We’re running out of time,” Solomon huffs as he rises to pace in your bedroom.

“There’s still surgery,” you suggest but Solomon scowls. 

“That hasn’t been an option since the roots took place. You need to tell him or you’ll die. I can’t lose you!” Solomon is furious as he storms out of your bedroom, not shutting the door after him.

Levi watches Solomon storm off, taking the opportunity to enter your bedroom.

“Hey.” Levi greets you softly as you resist the urge to cough. “Lucifer said you were sick again?”

“Levi,” you croak as he sits on the edge of your bed.

“I’m here,” he assures you as he takes your hand in his. He links your fingers together, wishing you well. “I wish you had told me sooner.”

“Couldn’t,” you cough, flower petals landing on your bedsheets. Levi’s eyes widen as he calls for Solomon.

Solomon comes racing, helping you sit up as you have another fit.

Levi watches from the sidelines, holding your hand tighter. “I can’t lose you.”

Levi rubs your back, whispering your name as his heart races. He hums to try and ease the ache.

Your coughing slows until it ceases. 

“Keep talking to her,” Solomon commands as he holds you up, trying to allow Levi to hold you up instead.

“You can’t die on me,” Levi whispers. “You’re my best friend. You’re the best thing to happen to me.”

“Levi,” his name is just above a whisper.

Levi continues, “I love you. Please, stay with me.”

Solomon touches your back, feeling as your heart regains its normal heart rate. He urges Levi to keep going, listening to your heart. Slowly, the roots dissipate, and your throat no longer aching. 

“You’re everything to me. I love you. You complete me,” Levi confesses. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see it.”

“Levi!” You cry, throwing your arms around him as Solomon lets you go, smiling through his tears as all signs of the disease fade.

Levi hugs you tightly, surprised by the affection as you kiss his cheek. “I love you. So much.”

Grinning, Levi kisses your cheek as he rubs your back.

Nervously, he cups your face, his lips meeting yours in a sweet kiss as Solomon teleports to his bedroom, happy that his friend won’t be meeting an awful end.

[marksbear]

Hey! There's hardly anything on the internet for trans males, so can I request a Spencer Reid x Trans male reader? Where the reader has just joined the BAU and Spencer is awkward around him because he immediately takes a liking to him? Maybe Morgan and Emily tease Spencer about it too?

Hello and Hope you enjoy the fic!

Warnings! creepy unsub, mtf and ftm victims, torture, dad like reader,

SPENCER REID X FTM READER

The whole team welcomed Y/n into the BAU. They all made him feel at home. Well not Spencer though.

Spencer didn't have a problem with Y/n in fact he loved to be around the new agent. He loved to be next to Y/n, he liked his voice, the way he carried himself and just overall he was smitten for the man.

But sadly threw missed signals by never making an effort to talk to the man or trying to be alone or next to him by going out of the room or walking to someone else to stand or sit by.

One day it was an unusual case for the BAU. The team flew to Texas to do the strange case. The case was about the Unsub killing trans kids and adults but mostly kids.

WARNING MAY GET DYSPHORIA! AND GORE

The team didn't notice Y/n's mood immediately changed once he saw what Unsub did to the Victims. If the victim was going through their transitions and had surgery the Unsub would keep them alive as they do a messy surgery if they were MTF they would remove the breast of the victim and cut her hair.

If FTM the unsub would snitch breast back onto him and make them shave any hair from neck to bottom like they were a lady.

END OF THE WARNING!

Once the Unsub was done they would make sure the victim was alive and just throw them somewhere far like in the woods or by an ocean.

The team and the other detectives were going back and forth throwing out ideas and scenarios to each other. Spencer noticed the lack of Y/n's voice in the conversation and turned to look for him.

Y/n was staring at one of the younger ftm victims with his eyes full of sadness and anger. Y/n hands were shaking and his legs were bouncing rapidly. What Spencer didn't suspect from Y/n that small tears was hitting the wooden table.

When Y/n noticed Spencer's concerned face staring at him he quickly wiped his tears and gave Spencer a reassuring smile. "What's his name?" Y/n as the group picking up the picture of the victim showing them. "Her name is---" One of the Texan detectives say until Y/n cuts him off by slamming his hand of the table.

"He. I asked for his name not the girl who didn't exist. "

The whole room gets quiet from never hearing Y/n sound so annoyed and serious.

"Oh uhm sorry. I mean his name is Ken Wayne. He was thirteen when attacked now hes fifteen. " The detective answers to Y/n with a look that he didn't mean too.

Y/n asks Hotch can they go talk to him and Hotch agrees and sends the whole team to his house only keeping J.J with him.

The team goes to Ken house which wasn't far from the station. Once they got there his mom opened the door to let the team inside. His mother leads yall through the house and to his room.

His mother knocks the door softly and opens it and mumbles a "Hes in here..."

Y/n was the first one inside the teenagers room and the rest of the agents followed right after.

Ken is on his phone until he sees figures going into his room wearing FBI jackets. "Okay it wasn't me." Ken blurts out with confusion in his voice. Derek chuckles and finds a place to sit. Spencer chooses to lean on the wall. As Y/n sits on the bed next to ken. Derek begins to ask questions about the unsub and what happened to him like "What do you remember about the unsub?" "What type of pain did you go through." And the last question seemed to irk Ken.

"You wouldn't know what I went through! ALL of you! Y'all can never feel the same way I feel! Yall all of the perfect bodies yall never had to live like someone like me! Trans going through bullying and dysphoria!"

Ken begins to rant about everything and all of the stress coming out and making him break down crying.

Ken gasped once Y/n brought him into the tightest hug ever. "Shhh... its okay. Its okay ken. You're such a strong man and a handsome one too in fact." Y/n praises rolls off his tongue while the young man cries into your shoulder.

Morgan and Reid stare at you in awe as you handle and calm the young man down. Once Ken stopped crying Y/n stepped out of the hug smiling at Ken. "Hey wanna know a secret Ken?" Y/n asks looking at the boy who nods wiping his eyes.

Y/n takes off his suit jacket and slips off his tie. "Hey this is only between me and you and the other baboons in this room" Y/n jokes shooting a playful wink at Spencer whose face became beat red. Emily and Derek see his red face and they smirk at each other. Y/n unbuttons his dress shirt revealing his bare chest that has surgery scars.

"Y-you're trans too!?!" Ken shouts in excitement and confusion. Y/n laughs at the young boy and nods. Ken raises his hands to touch the scar and looks at Y/n for permission. "Knock yourself out kid." The agent answers. After Ken asked Y/n about one million questions about his surgery and his transition the agents get ready to leave with all of the information they need. Y/n slides Ken his phone number and ruffles his hair. "Hopefully we can see each other in a better circumstance. Call me later son." Ken smiles bashfully at the nickname and gives Y/n a huge hug before Y/n and the team leaves the car.

Y/n puts his headphones on and listens to his music without hearing his team tease Spencer about his crush. "Soo~ nerd boy has a crush on the new guy!~" Emily sings laughing and pointing at him. While Derek is on the phone with Garcia "Baby girl guess what...Pretty boy has a crush on L/n!"

"MY SHIP IS GONNA SAIL SPENCER X Y/N!!" Penelope screams into the phone. To which J.J hears and says "Mr jock and the nerd getting together?"

Reid is all red covering his face begging the team to stop.

[nerdieforpedro]

Los limones pueden ser dulces (Amarillo/Yellow)

Part Three of Coasting through the Rainbow

My entire masterlist and blog are for readers 18+ MDNI. I do not consent to my work being used in AI, recommended on TikTok, borrowed or plagiarized.

Summary: Javier encounters Mila who provides some much needed light in his life.

Warnings: Angst, implied heavy drinking, implied sexual activity, actual sexual activity (not too graphic?), healthcare things (surgery and recovery), domestic Javi, cockwarming, pegging, fluff, direct discussions, toy use (small mention)

Word Count: 1207

Notes: We’re halfway though Javier’s journey. I was hoping to have this entire series up during Pride month, but it wasn’t happening. I will finish though!

Side note: Some of the horny I was feeling this week made it into this chapter.

Main Masterlist/ Javier Peña Masterlist/ AO3 Link

Four months without someone by his side or in his bed. Javier decided it was time to actually be by himself. Just remove a relationship off the table for now. Bi-weekly calls with Chucho, keeping busy at work and discovering that even though he doesn’t agree with some little old lady wandering around looking for murderers, Miss Marple is pretty entertaining. In addition to discovering a love/hate relationship with nosy pseudo private investigators, Peña took time to think.

What does he want from a partner?

What does he have to give a partner?

At what point does he ask where are things going?

These questions are heavy and inspire a few nights where the whiskey flows a bit more free.

It’s when the team has been able to corner and stop a large influx of fentanyl into the DMV area. Javier is invited out to drink and he accepts. He’s been keeping to himself after work hours so being around people a bit more may be a good idea. Everyone goes out to a bar to celebrate and it’s good for comradery. Peña is surprised that he’s approached by a woman called Mila.

She’s got violet hair with one yellow streak in the front. With her simple black dress, it covers her chest completely and her arms. The sleeves have a translucent material that shimmers as she taps his shoulder and he slips his arm around her. The hem of black dress is short, showcasing her defined legs that are accented from her black red bottom heels. The fuschia lipstick soon finds itself on Javier’s neck and later in the night, his tie.

Mila corrects Javier the second time their bodies connect. The first time, neither of them said much in the bar bathroom, but at Mila’s place ten minutes away, he is informed that she is in fact not a she. Mila uses they/them pronouns. Javier is confused as to why given what he’s seen so far. “What matters is that’s what I want to be called. Are you alright with it or not Javier?”

Peña has never been one to argue while his cock is being warmed so he nodded in agreement and gripped their hips tighter, thrusting upward, watching them use him for their release. He did notice, during both times that night that Mila kept their bra on and moved his hands away from their breasts. He’s curious, but doesn’t know them well enough to ask. The two of them alternate in cleaning up and lie in bed together.

“You look like you’re curious about something, Javi.” Mila’s mischievous grin has him chuckle, sure he’ll bite and ask his question. He turns on his side and sees that Mila has the sheet up to their shoulders.

“Why don’t you want me to touch your breasts? Does that have to do with the pronouns you use Mila?” Javier knows it’s some type of insecurity, that’s what it usually is. But even in the bar, they didn’t show their breasts either. Maybe it’s something deeper.

“I’m not really a fan of them. They don’t define me. I’m going to have them removed soon during my top surgery.” Mila’s answer was direct like they were. Javier’s only answer was a nod and a soft ‘okay.’ Leaving their apartment, he wondered how things could be so blurred and clear at the same time. He hasn’t had much experience with non-binary people, gay and straight make a lot of sense to Peña but he’s away the non-binary label can encompass so many things and facets of people. He wonders if maybe he should learn.

The next three months are filled with sex and conversations. Much different than he had with Angelo or James. Sometimes they would talk about Javier’s recent relationship troubles and other times it was Mila’s problem as they were trying to charm a female coworker and it was not going well. It seemed they were annoying them more than anything. Javier advised them to cool off a bit, the coworker may think they’re coming on too strong. Mila isn’t one to half ass anything it seems so Javier told her to prepare for a meeting with HR if that’s the case. On that point, they couldn't argue and agreed to just be cordial. There was laughter and Peña had missed having that with someone.

A week later after Javier has made dinner and Mila’s set the table, they mention that their surgery is in two weeks. He wonders if they’re really sure about doing this. Before eating, Mila looks across the table at Javier and smiles, “It’s been a hell of a time going through all these appointments to make it happen. I’m doing it. It’s about my identity and it’s not important to who I am. I’m tired of looking down and loathing them. Why should I have something on my body that I hate? That doesn’t make sense does it Javi?”

Thinking about it while he ate, he couldn’t think of a thing that he hated that much about his body that would require it to be removed. Mila later tells him he’s lucky that a thought like that has never reared its ugly head while she uses their yellow cock to widen his puckered hole. Peña discovered that he enjoys the purple one the most because it has the small grooves that his walls find themselves curling around. Mila’s favorite color is yellow and since she was able to get a lunch date with the coworker Javi said she could choose what they did after dinner.

Theirs is a relationship where they just enjoy each other’s company and support each other. Mila told Javier she didn’t want anything more than that and if he wasn’t alright with it, to tell them now. He agreed because despite having feelings he knew he wasn’t ready, this is all he could handle.

The tears on Mila’s face while she’s status post her surgery aren’t from the result or even from the physical pain. The woman who she’s been on a few dates with thought that she was insane for going through with her top surgery and broke up with her while she’s on her hospital bed and her bandages aren’t even off yet. Javier was at their side with a lemon yellow teddy bear he found at the gift shop. It made his friend laugh and they deserved that.

Javier found himself staying with Mila for the first month after their surgery, cooking for them, straightening up and going to and from appointments with them. Mila kept telling him he didn’t have to and he told them to just accept the help and don’t be stubborn. They both agreed that they would be immovable as jackasses, Mila held their chest from using their entire body in glee at the horrible joke. When Mila was a bit further along in her recovery, Javi brought over a bottle of red wine sent to him by James, it was on the dry side, but wasn’t bitter this time.

Javier Peña didn’t hate this new stage of his life. It isn’t quite what he wanted but he doesn’t know what he wants. This is enough for now.

Lights in Javi’s life 🔆: @perotovar @julesonrecord @djarinmuse @tinytinymenace @megamindsecretlair

@rulexofxnines @djarins-cyare @secretelephanttattoo @soft-persephone @604to647

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @morallyinept @for-a-longlongtime @saturn-rings-writes @soft-girl-musings

@professionalpromqueen @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @connectioneverywhere @fhatbhabiee @guelyury

@yorksgirl @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring @rosecentaur1916

@westside-rot @romanarose @lady-bess @sin-djarin @legendary-pink-dot

@80ssong @kilamonster @boliv-jenta @schnarfer

Part Two - Morado. Part Four

[theyanderespecialist]

Stolas's Trans Man (Headcanons) Yandere Stolas X Trans Man Reader/Listener

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with another chapter this is another pride month one, with Yandere Stolas x Trans Man you/Reader/Listener (And I am going to make him a goetia more info in the disclaimer) I hope that you all enjoy this!] 

(Disclaimer 1: for those who do not know a bird has a cloaca. Meaning that they have one hole for everything, poo, pee, and reproductive holes! Since you were afab you can lay eggs (until your transition. Just telling you, so you know what you are working with. Your periods also consist of you laying smaller eggs. Yes, a period can be worse than what we have for uterus havers on Earth! Anyways let's do this! 

Disclaimer 2: Stolas is not yandere in canon, but he is a gay man in canon. This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine, just do not be illegal or gross about it, yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! thank you, and happy Pride! Trans Rights are human rights, and trans men are men!) 

-Headcanons With Yandere Stolas X Trans Male Reader- 

.Stolas was now exploring his sexuality with Blitz, but he did not know he would catch feelings for another Goetia. 

.You were around a decade younger than him, in your early twenties and you just came out to your parents. 

.The whole Goetia family laughed about it so you were staying away from them as much as possible. 

.Stolas and you met at the divorce party Stella forced him to go to. 

.He had never felt this way before not even for Blitzy! 

.He would be talking with you and notice that you have a lot of chest feathers. 

.When he learns that yes you are a trans man, it makes sense. 

.He is very happy to take you under his wing and promises you that he will help you become the man you always wanted to be. 

.He just wants you close and he wants to make you happy, and at this point, he does not give a fuck about what his ex-wife thinks. 

.His first love with Blitz has failed so he is not going to be ready to hope into something new. 

.But he does help guide you through it.

.Such as helping you pluck your chest feathers that are too much. Not to mention any other feathers that would need to be molted off once you are that far on T.

.He would also kind of be a sugar daddy for you, helping you pay for all your testosterone and surgeries, not to mention anything else that you would need. 

.He is also a master in potion making so he would make you potions to help you with your transition as well. 

.Being very supportive of you and help you where he can. 

.Of course the more you become a man the more it does things to and for him. 

.It goes from being a older person in the Goetia to being a man that wanted you, another man. 

.Once he realizes this he becomes more and more nervous. 

.What if you do not like him? What if you think lowly of him like Blitz did? 

.He is a yandere who is so insecure and has so much anxiety. 

.Though he is protective, he can go from worrywart to downright terrifying. 

.Most people forget how powerful Stolas Is, and how dangerous he is. 

.He would deal with rivals pretty much by either turning them to stone or even straight-up torturing them, maybe even feeding those rivals to his plants. 

.He is a big romantic and would have to sit down to ask if you wanted kids with him. 

.Since you were AFAB he knows that is a choice if you want to have an egg or two with him before you have bottom surgery. 

.He does not need to have kids with you, he is also okay with adoption. 

.The only thing that matters to him is you. 

.Very protective and loving and just wants you to be you and to make you happy! 

.So he would do everything to make sure that you feel like the man you are. 

.He is also the type of yandere partner that would let you put a strap on and have your way with him. 

.He will make you feel like a man in and out of the bedroom. 

.He does a LOT of gender-affirming things for you that is a fact. 

.Also if anyone misgenders you, he will throw his status and power around, and be like "Do we have a problem!" 

.He is a yandere who tries to make sure that everything is perfect. 

.When he finally does confess to you it is a big grand thing. 

.If you accept this love he will have you fully move in (you were pretty much already living there.) so that he and you can start a life together~ 

.If that does not happen he will be heartbroken and push you away, he cannot see that beautiful smile and know that you do not feel the same. 

.He will still support you but he would be hurt, of course, his yandere side is not going to let you be with anyone else. 

.If he cannot have you then no one can, and that is that!] 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done, I hope you all enjoyed this and stay sexy! All of my sexy muffins!] 

[bp-zb1fics]

Hey!!! I love your writing so much,, especially your jay fic ;; I saw that you loved canon fics and omg literally SAME,, so i was like lemme request a lil something lolol

Jay smut, reader is his makeup artist during the over me “era” and you can free style the rest <333

😺 anon

Tonight I’ll take you away

pairing: jay x reader

pronouns: none used

genre: canon, suggestive themes, smut

wc: 1940

summary: you proposition the cute trainee that’s been making eyes at you while you’re working

Check my pinned for more fics~

MINORS DO NOT READ PLEASE!!!!

tw/tags: flirting, staring, realities of the idol industry, makeup, plastic surgery mention (not referring to jay), assumptions made about the industry, covertly arranged hook up, jay kinda subby, bondage, mention of pre negotiation/boundary setting, teasing, kissing, making out, nipple play, oral sex (both receiving), non explicit and explicit descriptions, riding, orgasms, reader bottoms but gender isn't specified, reader is implied to be older than jay but you can imagine it however you want

a/n tysm for loving my writing, 😺 anon! Hope you like this, it took quite awhile but I finally got to writing it~ thinking of turning this into a whole over me 🥵 series but while thoughts are being had, y'all can check out the leejeong part if you haven't!

“잘생겼어요?” [Jalsaenggyoso]

You pause, just for a second, hiding that brief moment of confusion by dipping your brush back into the eyeshadow palette.

“You mean 잘생겼나요?“ [Jalsaenggyonayo]

Even under his foundation, his cheeks flush. You’re unfazed, having worked with a fair amount of foreign idols, you’ve received your share of flirtatious comments and sometimes even straight up propositions both in shaky Korean and poor English, up until they realise you’re perfectly capable of understanding both.

Tapping off the excess, you motion for him to close his eyes, holding his chin to steady him and swiping lightly over his lids. And because you rather avoid another misunderstanding, you continue to talk in English.

“Keep your eyes closed for me, please.”

You instruct him as you blend it in with a darker shadow at the outer corner of his lash line. He’s a good looking kid. In this industry, they all are, honestly, they have to be. You can only do so much contouring to sharpen their jawlines and slim their faces and define their nose. Some of them are so naturally attractive that you wonder how they have such good genes and others? Well, there’s nothing the knife and needle can’t take care of.

“And open.”

He does and you can’t help but notice how striking he looks. It does help that he has a natural double eyelid, saving you the effort of going in with the tape, the subtle liner popping out immediately. You make a few small adjustments, ignoring how his breath goes shaky every time you use your hands to angle his face.

He is, by no means, the subtle type. But he’s also a trainee, a Western-raised one to boot. They tend to be…a lot more expressive by nature, unabashed staring, the more established idols even going as far as making open advances, confidence given by signed NDAs and the knowledge that whatever footage of this will be deleted. While he doesn’t have that confidence, his face speaks volumes, wanting eyes, the ends of his mouth quivering upwards as you lean in to brush tint over his lips, even the little Korean he messed up earlier.

“You really shouldn’t stare like that when there are cameras.”

You murmur, glad that they haven’t been able to clip a mic to his shirt yet. There are only two cameras in the partitioned off waiting room, one mounted on a tripod meant to record the whole room although you know from experience that it won’t pick up audio and both of you weren’t in any kind of suspicious position either. Besides, they hardly used the footage from there, the behind the scenes most likely taking clips from the handheld camera that the other trainees sitting on the couch were talking at.

So honestly, neither of the cameras would catch him but you figured that anyone planning to be an idol might as well be a little more cautious. 

“Sorry,” he immediately ducks his head, sheepish with a little embarrassment now evident on his face. Definitely a lot more expressive.

It tones down but he seriously won’t stop stealing glances at you. Even when he’s called over to film or you retouch the makeup of the other trainees, your eyes end up meeting whenever you look his way. When they’re called to stand-by backstage, mic packs are taped on with you and the rest of the makeup and styling team making last minute adjustments. Maybe, it’s a lapse of judgement but you reach up and tug the black choker askew on his neck back into place.

Maybe only you two hear the sharp inhale he makes when you do that. 

“Need to get into the mood of your song, you know.”

You quip under your breath as you retouch some parts of his face, no need for any extra blush, at least. 

“Ah, yes.”

He offers you a smile in return. Cute.

You’re part of the staff that accompany them to the studio for retouches. All of them stand still as you fix up smudges or spots that’ve been sweated away. But it’s only Jay who really looks at you with a little something as he parts his lips to let your brush fix up the gradient, making sure they look soft and plush and camera ready.

“Good luck, fighting!”

It’s not that suspicious with all the other staff cheering them on but he lights up right away. It’s too cute.

And then they do the dry run and in the place of that shy, soft-spoken, smiling kid is this sensual man with sultry vocals that does things to you. It’s a blur, the song wrapping up way too fast and leaving you a little breathless and slightly warm under the collar.

They come backstage and maybe you bustle up to Jay too quickly but in fairness, the rehearsal has his bangs sticking to his forehead, foundation a little smudged and you definitely need to do retouches.

“Did I do well?”

He asks you, all quiet again. There’s no trace of the man onstage in his bright eyes as he smiles at you. When you tell him he did, somehow he manages to look even happier. You watch him greet the fans with those eyes before completely flipping the switch, vocals coming on even stronger, giving them flirty little smiles as rose petals decorate the stage.

And that’s when you decide, well, why not? He was cute and he seemed to think you were too. You’d suck his dick…if he wanted you too.

__________________________________________

After the M Countdown filming and a fan meeting that had you on the side for more touch ups, you found out that he, in fact, wanted you too.

It isn’t too difficult, you being in the industry long enough to go about making arrangements discretely and without too much fuss. NDAs aside, it does help that while he is on a highly-publicised survival show, he still is considered a trainee which makes it easier to slip under the radar. There’s a little pre-negotiation, setting boundaries, getting consent but it goes over smoothly.

Which is why he’s here, actually trying to avoid your gaze, the red ribbon stage props binding his wrists to the bed posts, his pants somewhere on the floor. It’s a very pretty sight, you think to yourself as you watch him squirm, his arousal out in the open, cheeks flushed. It’s fun when they’re needy. It’s even better knowing that a hundred people can scream their name but your name will be the only one they’ll say tonight.

Jay says your name in a way that’s reminiscent of how he sang earlier. Melodic, almost breathless, just a little needy. You’re settled between his legs, running a hand over his thigh, enjoying the way he trembles slightly when you ghost at where he wants it. He’s all shy and stuttery again but his body is as expressive as before.

He surges forward as you lean in, meeting your lips with his. He’s not a bad kisser. You aren’t surprised, assuming that growing up in the West and not starting training as a child like some of the inexperienced ones you hear about must have had something to do with that. He’s still shy but there’s a sense of self-assurance in the way he mouths softly at your bottom lip. Parting his lips to let you slip your tongue in, exploring the spots that get his hips to jump, his wrists to strain against their bindings.

The sounds he makes are like music as you scrape your teeth over his neck, careful not to leave any bruises. You lap at abused skin and he starts getting noisy. That’s fine. No one would hear and even if someone does, they know it’s none of their business. Fingertips graze his nipples and you watch him twitch, leaking onto the sheets. You can’t help but ask.

“Good?”

“Please. Can you-”

“Can I…?”

“Can you do that again, please?”

And because he asked so nicely, you use your mouth, flicking your tongue out. He’s gasping, bucking his hips, trying to get some friction where he’s aching. You could toy with him all night but you won’t do that. Not tonight, at least. You press kisses lower and lower, his breath getting shallower nearly halting as you pause between his legs and look up at him.

“Will you stay still for me?”

It’s taking awhile to register but once it does, he nods. Well, you can’t have that.

“Words please.”

He looks so stricken, it’s almost adorable. But it’s barely a second of hesitation before he answers.

“Yes, yes- ah!”

You take him fully into your mouth, as much as you can. He’s heavy against your tongue as you hollow your cheeks for more suction, bobbing your head a few times. You look up and his head is thrown up against the headboard, eyes closed, lip tint smeared on his parted lips, sharp breaths escaping. You run your tongue along the veins on the underside of his dick and the sounds he lets out are obscene.

Impressively enough, he manages to keep his hips steady, letting you go at your own pace. But you know you’re good. You’ve been told that you’re good. Waiting till he relaxes, basking the pleasure of your tongue running over him, suckling softly, even moving to leave a mark or two on his thighs. Then, without warning, you’re descending, taking him almost fully in your mouth, breathing steadily through your nose.

You’re pretty sure the whole floor heard him just now, his hips jerking up traitorously. You pull off and the whine that comes next is delicious. He’s wrecked, bangs stuck to his forehead in an erotic echo of earlier, eyes dark and pleading, fists clenching uselessly.

“I thought you’d stay still for me?”

What comes out of his mouth next is almost unintelligible, a mess of Korean and English, all you know is that he’s begging. You shush him, your clothes joining his on the floor. You’ve got him hypnotised as you sink your fingers between your own legs, the wet squelch betraying how eager you are. He slides in, nice and easy and you take a moment to relish in the fullness that this angle offers, straddling him fully.

Your hands press his hips downward, keeping them still this time until you’re ready to feel him deeper. It’s a lost cause once you let go, he moves, as much as he can with his hands still restrained and unable to provide leverage. You let him tire himself out before you take your own pleasure, rolling your hips and enjoying the way he sounds when you do. He doesn’t ask you to untie him so you ride him until he’s about to tip over the edge, it’s not hard to tell with someone as expressive as him, the brink of an orgasm is written all over his face.

Maybe you’re a little sex drunk but the sound he makes when you push him past release should be recorded and made into a song. But for now, you’re the only listener. Chest heaving, you free his wrists and before you know it, it’s his face buried between your legs, helping you reach your own release.

“Is it okay if we stay tonight?” He asks after you’ve cleaned up, lying on the bed, limbs tangled together. He’s very tactile, you've found out.

You consider the consequences before shrugging, quite enjoying the way he presses soft kisses against your shoulders, singing softly to the song that’s playing quietly in the background.

“If you want to.” He does.

[vi-trying-to-survive]

Hey, idk of you are going requests but if you are can I request an Anthony Lockwood x fem caryle reader where she is Lucy's older sister who doesnt have any talents and she is very over protective off Lucy so when they come to London, she takes an immediate dislike to Anthony and George but she still tolerates them becuase Lucy wants to work for the agency. She has her own flat and she is studying to become a surgeon.

One day she gets a call from Lucy that lockwood is really hurt and he needs medical attention but he doesn't want to go to the hospital so she sucks it up and goes to help him.

I Care About You

Anthony Lockwood x f!Carlyle!Reader

Warnings: None, this is just fluff :) 💖💖💖

Summary: Y/N has to patch Lockwood up yet again, because for some reason her hates hospitals. Who is she to say no ?

A/N: I hope you guys like this one :) 💖💖💖 I love this request so much! I thought it was so cute and I relate so much cause I'm getting a degree in medicine too :') 💖💖💖 All just to answer the question I do take requests, but I'm super slow :') 💖💖💖 Have a good day :) 💖💖💖

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

"Lucy you can't keep calling me to patch your friends up, I do have a life", she frowned. The phone was balanced between her ear and shoulder. As someone who didn't have a talent, she seemed to get involved with agents a little too much. When she had heard that Lucy had left for London, she was excited. It had never occurred to her that she would be accompanied by two boys. George was quiet and a little odd at times, but he meant well. They got along relatively well. He had a lot of questions about human anatomy, but she appreciated that he looked out for her sister. Then there was Lockwood. It wasn't to say that she didn't like him. He was rash and careless, and that attitude was what got Lucy into trouble. She was worried. People who didn't know better would say that she should just avoid him. That was easier said than done, especially when he had an animosity to hospitals, which left her with the job of fixing him whenever he got hurt.

She groaned, "I know, I know, but he always insists on you and not the hospital". Her voice with laced with concern. She ran a hand through her hair.

"Well I hope he knows that I'm much less proficient in comparison to a licensed doctor", she sighed. Hastily she shoved her equipment into a rucksack, slinging it over her shoulder. He was too well aware that despite her thoughts of him and his behaviour, she would never be able to say no. She just didn't have it in her. Sometimes she wondered if he just liked having her around, but no one would put themselves through the kind of self-torture that he did just to have someone over. It seemed crazy.

"So you'll do it ?", she sounded hopeful. At least if anything, she would win her sisters favour.

She shook her head, "Fortunately for Lockwood, my moral code compels me".

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

She had her gloves on, gently prodding at the blue-black patches across his face and chest. They were both silent, which was unusual for him. She chewed her bottom lip, concentrating on the gash that was on his cheek, "So, are you going to tell me how you got these ones ?".

"I don't think you want to know", he sighed. His eyes were fixed to the ground, avoiding hers. This was different. She usually couldn't get him to sit still. Her heart pounded faster. She had once wished that he would just keep quiet, now all she wanted was for him to go back to normal.

Still his lack of confidence in her made her scowl, "I see open surgery twice a week, I think I can handle it ?". His shoulder seemed to be out-of-place. She tried to move it. He looked pained, but said nothing.

"I- Alright, we were-", he turned towards her, wincing. She decided his shoulder was dislocated, but throwing yourself from a first-storey of a house could do that to someone. In fact, she was quite aware of what had happened, having received a rather detailed retelling from George and Lucy before she went to see him. She had only asked with the hope that he would snap out of whatever trance he was in, but she was clearly wrong. At least re-positioning his shoulder would.

It snapped back into place with a loud crack. "What was that for ?", his eyes were wide and he appeared distressed. She had considered giving him a warning, but decided against it in the last minute. Maybe she should have put more thought into the decision, but this was a slight improvement compared to the silence.

She tested the joint, moving his arm back and forth slightly, "Your shoulder was dislocated, I had to push it back in place". He wouldn't stop staring at her now. She looked away, cursing when her breath caught in her throat.

"You could have given me some warning", he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Experts say anticipation makes the act more painful", she dug around her bag for a roll of cotton, her back turned to him.

"Why do you hate me ?", his voice was hesitant.

This is not what she expected. She felt a burning regret in the pit of her stomach. She had always tried to keep him at arms length, not because she didn't like him, but because she liked him a little too much. She had always been alone. Not having a talent, meant not joining an agency, which meant she couldn't make money. That made her a liability and a burden to her mother, and it only got worse when Lucy left. Who could blame her when she took the first chance she could to get out. She was comfortable being alone, but of course Lockwood had something to say about that.

Gingerly she sat next to him at the edge of the bed, "I- I don't hate you, just- I'm just worried". She chanced a glimpse at him. He looked surprised. Was it that shocking ? How could she not worry ? Yes, he pestered her all the time, was conceited and rash, but he also knew all her favourite books and always had a cup of tea for her, made just the way she liked it. She wondered why he made such an effort with her, she was difficult, usually chalking it up to her being Lucy's older sister and wanting to make a good impression. She now found herself hoping there was something else behind it too.

This was starting to be more difficult than she thought it was going to be. She took a breath in, "Look, when I found Lucy again, it wasn't just her who entered my life, it was George and you too, and as much as I hate admitting this I- You keep Lucy safe and you have a big heart, which makes it hard for me to not like you". She felt stupid and vulnerable.

Spotting his grin out of the corner of her eye, she groaned, "Stop making that face".

"I didn't do anything", he protested. The look on his face said otherwise.

She had been on her own for so long. Too many people had left her, and it hurt. She had thought she would be better off without others. If she didn't take chances, she knew she'd always be safe. Now she wasn't so sure what she wanted. Maybe she had given herself enough time ? Maybe it was time for her to let someone else in ? She ran a hand across her face, "Just, let me finish- I- I care about you, so I-".

The smile fell from his face, "I- I'm sorry". He had a hand on her knee, and he sounded genuine.

A warmth spread through her, she laughed, "Just, try a little harder at not dying, alright ?".

"Alright", he scratched the back of his head. She shook her head, turning her attention back to the wound along his face, dabbing gently the cuts across his face. Perhaps she should have gone a little easier on him.

She felt his stare on her. He was smirking, "So ? You care about me ?". What had she gotten herself into ?

A heat rushed to her face, she turned away, "Shut up". He seemed to have recovered quickly enough. Once again his ego was through the roof, it didn't help that he looked terribly cute, but he didn't need to know that. Well this is what she wanted, he was acting like himself again, but now she was having second thoughts.

With his finger, he tilted her face towards his, "No, no, don't be embarrassed I care about you too, Ow-". She pressed the alcohol swab deeper into the inflamed cut. It would have hurt less than what he was making it out to be, always the dramatic one. She felt a little bad, but not so much that she was going to apologise.

His mouth was agape with his brows furrowed, "Was that really necessary?".

Probably not, but someone had to keep him in check. She grinned, "Highly".

Probably not, but someone had to keep him in check. She grinned, "Highly".

Probably not, but someone had to keep him in check. She grinned, "Highly".

[elliespuns]

Truth about the Fireflies?

Joel only cared about one thing, which was getting Ellie out, and it was selfish, but in the selfishness of a father for his daughter. I don't think anyone doubts Joel would gladly give his life for Ellie. He also was willing to kill whoever and give up whatever (saving humanity) in order to keep Ellie safe. That is all there is really to say about Joel's motives.

BUT this is where many start to derail a bit and miss the bigger picture of the Fireflies. They are the other side of the story. Some people have noted about Joel, just because you play a character it does not mean they are the hero. Well, just because the Fireflies say they can make the cure from Ellie's brain does not mean it is true. In fact, the game was dropping hints that the Fireflies may be overzealous in there dedication to "the cure" to be thinking clearly.

One scientist (died by monkey bite) says in a recording that Fireflies have cycles every few years. There is a breakthrough that leads to hopeful years, which is followed by years of depression and failure. He says they have been in the slump for the last few years. Could Ellie be their next failed "breakthrough"? Also, think about how fast they put her into surgery. They just got her and perhaps in the same day decided that killing the one immune person in the world is necessary. No weeks of study and analysis. Another player noted that the doctors did not even get a chance to question her about her zombie attack to learn valuable information like that the zombie was legitimate because it had infected her friend. No, forget about testing her, let's cut open her brain! When you enter the ER room, the doctor is determined to not let Joel through, but notice his reasoning. "I won’t let you take her!" He doesn't sound like a doctor trying to save humanity. He sounds like a crazy doctor after "the cure" that has alluded him all his life. Then Marlene says in a recording that the doctor and her were in a shouting match over killing Ellie for post mortem study. She goes on to say that her approval of the surgery was a formality. This doesn't sound like good people looking for a cure, this sounds like hounds sniffing out blood.

BOTTOM LINE: we can't assume that the Fireflies were right in their assumption about the cure. In fact, I think the most likely outcome of Ellie's death was another failed study by the Fireflies. But Joel didn't let that happen. Can you imagine if he had?

[that-sarcastic-optimist]

Klaroline+'I hold onto the night you looked me in the eye and told me you loved me' from Forever and ALways my Taylor Swift. I know that's supposed to be a sad song but I've always loved that lineand was hoping you could do someting cute/happy/fluffy with it?

I've made this like a sort-of sequel to my latest drabble something in you, so I recommend reading that first before reading this one.

(someone please show me how to put the underline link thingy under the name of a fic)

.

.

.

Caroline shuts the door behind her quietly, toeing off her shoes and nudging them into a corner, too tired to shove them inside the shoe rack. She rolls out the cricks of her neck, careful not to make too much noise so as to not rouse Klaus, who’s probably still sleeping.

As soon as she enters their bedroom, however, Klaus jerks awake, blinking sleep out of his eyes blearily. “No,” Caroline groans. “I was quiet.”

“Mm,” Klaus grumbles, getting up, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t mind. I told you to wake me up.”

“It’s one am, Klaus.” Caroline drops her bag on the desk and gets on the bed, crawling over to where Klaus sits. He kisses her cheek and then her hair, frowning.

“You look like death warmed over. Sleep.”

“I would’ve if it weren't for my hardass boss,” Caroline grumps, suppressing a smile when Klaus freezes, pulling his lips away from her cheek. He looks deeply offended when he looks at her, all traces of sleepiness gone.

“I resent that.”

“Dr Mikaelson’s such a dick,” Caroline continues, grinning when Klaus narrows her eyes. “Giving us paperwork while he goes home to sleep it off.”

“I have a twelve hour long surgery tomorrow,” Klaus points out.

“You made me work till one am,” Caroline hums, climbing onto his lap. “Ass,” she says affectionately, kissing the bottom of his jaw. Klaus makes an affronted sound and pulls away, looking at her.

“Last I checked, I was perfectly willing to single you out and take you home with me, but you said I couldn’t treat you differently.”

“Yeah, with surgeries, I didn’t mean paperwork, anyone can do that. Give it to Hayley or someone, I hate her.”

Klaus grins sleepily, closing his eyes when Caroline buries her face into his neck. “I know.”

“Klaus?”

“Yes, love?”

“Can you kiss me?”

“Yes,” he says sleepily, leaning forward to kiss her. Caroline hums, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pushing him down so that he’s lying on the bed and she’s on top of him. Klaus moves his hands to her hips, steadying her when she rocks on top of them.

“Caroline…”

“What, no, come on, Klaus.”

“It’s one in the morning, sweetheart, and you were so tired when you came in.”

“Well, now I'm awake,” she says seductively.

“Well then, I'm tired.”

“I'm the one who’s been doing your stupid paperwork.”

“Yes, while I was doing a seven hour surgery on my feet. Apologies for—ouch.”

“Shut up,” she says affectionately.

“Don’t use that tone, love, I'm too tired for sex.”

Caroline groans and pulls away from him, sitting up on his lap while he still lies down. He makes an affronted noise and pulls her back to his level. “I didn’t tell you to get off me.”

“If I stay on top of you you're going to get a boner.”

“Can you not call it that?” Klaus grumps.

“Literally everyone calls it that.”

“Just call it an erection like normal people do.”

“You're not normal. I thought you were going to sleep.”

“I am,” Klaus says, looking as offended as one can look when their eyelids are half-closed. “I can't do it with you talking to me.”

“Oh, god, this is déjà vu from the night I lost my virginity,” Caroline grumps.

Klaus’s eyes fly open, and he’s suddenly up, eyes narrowed. “What—”

“Oh, go back to sleep,” Caroline huffs, pushing him back down, laying down beside him and pulling the covers on top of them, snuggling into his side when he rolls over to face her, throwing a leg over his.

“What—Caroline, put on some socks.”

“No, I can't sleep in socks.”

“Your feet are freezing—what the hell—Caroline—”

“No, come here, this is punishment for making me do your stupid charting—”

“You're my resident—get your feet away from me—”

Caroline snorts, shoving her foot between his thighs. Klaus yelps, jerking away from, her, making her burst into laughter. He glares at her, nudging her foot with his. “I thought we were supposed to be sleeping.”

“So sleep,” she hums. “Do you want me to tell you how I did my charting? That might help.”

“Fine,” he yawns. “Tell me.”

“So, there I was, sitting in my chair with my charts, totally naked—”

Klaus snorts, eyes closed. “Somehow, I doubt there’s any truth in you flashing the rest of the hospital.”

“Smart man,” she says, kissing his cheek.

“Besides, I like listening to you, so that probably won't help me sleep anyway.”

“Do you want to try anyway?”

“Fine.”

“I finished my surgeries and clinic hours for the day, helped Enzo in the clinic, and then did your stupid paperwork with Bonnie, ooh, and by the way, I assisted with a coronary revascularisation, which was awesome, Bonnie watched from the gallery. But it’s okay, you don’t have to get excited for me right now, you can do it tomorrow.”

“Caroline,” comes Klaus’s voice.

“Yes?”

“This isn't working. You're too interesting.”

Caroline lets out a bark of laughter. “Just sleep, Klaus.”

Klaus hums and wraps his arms around her, burying his face into her neck. “Goodnight, love.”

“Good night, hardass.”

[sshbpodcast]

Character Spotlight: Leonard McCoy

By Ames

We’re still boldly going through all the characters of The Original Series in A Star to Steer Her By’s latest blog collection, and this week the spotlight is on Dr. Leonard McCoy! We’re not even going to be at all objective about this one because Bones is the favorite TOS character of most of the hosts here at SSHB, so be prepared for us to gush about his curmudgeonly actions, witty one-liners, and constant back-and-forth with Spock.

It helps that DeForest Kelley brings so much more to the role than is on the page, so let’s dive in and discover what our favorite McCoy moments are, scrape the bottom of the barrel for some lesser moments, and generally fan all over the CMO of the starship Enterprise. Read on below and listen to this week’s banter on the podcast (discussion at 1:04:23) for more about this old country doctor. We hope you have a mint julep handy!

[Images © CBS/Paramount

Best Moments

Promoted too fast One of McCoy’s most highlighted facets is his obstinance, which is often played to hilarious effect. So when the ship is under threat from Balok’s Fesarius in “The Corbomite Maneuver,” it’s quite fitting that McCoy is stubborn enough to make what might be his last living action writing up Lt. Bailey just to spite Kirk for promoting him too fast. Now that’s no bluff!

Well, either choke me or cut my throat! Make up your mind! McCoy is at his most badass in “Space Seed” when his patient, Khan, has grabbed one of the good doctor’s handy wall knives and held him up. “It would be most effective if you would cut the carotid artery just under the left ear,” Bones says while his life is being threatened, and everyone watching this show goes “Daaaaaamn.”

Something called a mint julep. It’s a drink, Jim! Speaking of McCoy being a straight-up badass, when the subsonic transmitter is undoing the euphoric effects of the spores in “This Side of Paradise,” he straight up slugs the guy who dares imply that his job as a physician may have become obsolete on a planet with no disease. Without so much as dropping his drink! Grade-A badass right there.

My patients don't walk out in the middle of an operation Don’t forget that McCoy is a half decent doctor, especially considering most medical work in the future is waving a medical tricorder over people. But he proves his physician’s skills in “Journey to Babel” when he performs surgery on Sarek, transfusing a blood sample from a reluctant Spock and saving the ambassador’s life, all in the middle of a battle with Orions!

I’m trying to thank you… As we mentioned in the Spock spotlight post, the jail scene in “Bread and Circuses” is just stunning acting work from both Nimoy and Kelley. It’s such a short scene, but it’s got everything. And when McCoy ponders that Spock is afraid of living, afraid of showing his human half, afraid of feeling, they display in their acting that they’re both in the same emotional place and I love it.

A child could do it Like in “Journey to Babel,” Bones gets to prove his medical prowess in “Spock’s Brain,” even if it’s a little bit laughable overall. He does need help from the Teacher to give himself the temporary knowledge to reconnect Spock to his big Vulcan brain, but when that wears off, he keeps it together, and with a little help from his green-blooded friend, gets the job done.

Please give yourself every minute No wonder this episode was our favorite from TOS. What a great showcase for DeForest Kelley. His grappling with impending death in “For the World Is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky” is expertly played and beautifully explores how to measure a life’s happiness. McCoy’s romance with Natira is lovely and I heartily wish he didn’t have to leave her, though as I said in my review of Sawdust to Stardust, the novel Ex Machina revisits Yonada and is quite good!

I’ve been drafted There’s just something about Bones McCoy in The Motion Picture, standing on the transporter pad that he hates so much, grumbling at Kirk about getting drafted back into Starfleet, complaining like a cantankerous old coot about all the renovations made to his medical bay, all while wearing the most disco of civilian attire that is just plain charming.

I choose the danger While we found it a biiiit presumptuous for Spock to cram his katra into McCoy in The Wrath of Khan, it allows for some just plain great DeForest Kelley acting in The Search for Spock, so we can kinda forgive the violation. All movie long, McCoy gets to act like he’s mildly possessed by Spock, and then bravely face the fal-tor-pan ceremony that could be dangerous to humans. “Hell of a time to ask.”

What is this, the Dark Ages? While it could be seen as a blatant infringement of the Temporal Prime Directive to give a kidney pill to the woman on dialysis in The Voyage Home, you’ve just gotta love it when Starfleet doctors take matters into their own hands for the sake of a patient. Does the Hippocratic Oath trump the prime directive? Probably not, but McCoy is a hero to that woman regardless.

Not long after, they found a cure Sometimes Star Trek just doesn’t deserve DeForest Kelley, whose acting chops are frequently the best on the show, in our humble opinions. And the debated worst of the TOS films actually has some legitimately great McCoy moments – watching him euthanize his father only to learn a cure has been later found in The Final Frontier is such a moving scene that we really feel for.

Aside from a touch of arthritis… Only Leonard McCoy could get away with cracking a joke during his conspiracy trial prosecuted by relentless Klingons, as he does in The Undiscovered Country. And he even gets a couple of laughs out of the spectating Klingons in the audience, which may make up for getting convicted of a crime he didn’t commit. Take that, Chang!

—

Worst Moments

I was thinking about the buffalo The very first introduction of McCoy in “The Man Trap” sees him doing some pretty irrational things. How is Plum’s mind so clouded that he can’t see Nancy for what she really is, especially when she’s literally sucking the salt out of the captain? And it’s an emotional scene, but I still can’t forgive McCoy for killing the M-113 creature, a sentient being and the last of its kind.

Don’t peek! Something rubbed us the wrong way about Bones’s flirting with yeoman Barrows in “Shore Leave.” Maybe it’s the age gap. Maybe it’s that they didn’t have a ton of chemistry. Maybe it’s that we ship him and Natira way more. Or maybe it’s that when she asks him not to watch her change, his response is “My dear girl, I am a doctor. When I peek, it’s in the line of duty.” Gross, doc.

Two drops of cordrazine can save a man's life Every so often, we really question Dr. McCoy’s doctoring skills and how his shenanigans wouldn’t fly in later series. And as much as it serves as the impetus for one of the best TOS episodes, being careless enough to inject oneself with a hundred times the normal dose of cordrazine in “The City on the Edge of Forever” – time ripples or not! – is just plain ineptitude.

You are out of line… sir. McCoy says in “The Doomsday Machine” that he hasn’t had time to run an examination on Decker to declare him medically or psychologically unfit to command. Well, why not, doctor?! If in “The Deadly Years,” we had time to hold a trial about Kirk being too senile to command, you surely have the authority to order the commodore to a checkup. You’re the CMO for chrissakes!

I’m a doctor, not an escalator Everything McCoy does on Capella IV in “Friday’s Child” is very strange to me. a) Why had McCoy been there when these people are still in primitive stages? b) Why didn’t McCoy TELL Grant that drawing his phaser would get him killed? c) What fetishist wrote the slap fight with the pregnant woman? This whole incident was just eyebrow raising, one of McCoy’s specialties!

A total resentment towards women See what I mean about Bones not understanding doctoring sometimes? A woman crewmember makes a mistake that bonks Scott on the noggin, so McCoy diagnoses Scott with misogyny in “Wolf in the Fold,” and prescribes a trip to a brothel. That was a thing that happened. What incel wrote this nonsense? Sometimes, Star Trek, your being written in the sixties really shows.

They reproduce bisexually Another weird medical gaff McCoy makes is stating that the tribbles reproduce bisexually in “The Trouble with Tribbles.” Someone on the writing team apparently had no idea what that word means and it resulted in making McCoy just sound incompetent. The tribbles reproduce asexually, and their being born pregnant is what Bones was trying to relay when he flubbed it hard.

I think I left it in Bela’s office Not only did McCoy NOT get to play dress up in gangster clothes like Kirk and Spock in “A Piece of the Action” (what a waste; he would have looked great!), but the button at the end of the episode reveals that he’s left his communicator on Sigma Iotia! Well. Go and get it, nincompoop! That’s cultural contamination! Beam it up! Amateurs, I swear to Okmyx.

…you pointed-eared hobgoblin! Most of our worst McCoy moments have been a bit tongue-in-cheek until now, but you do have to admit that McCoy’s constant stream of casual racism at Vulcans is absolutely problematic. And as much as we credit the beautiful jail scene in “Bread and Circuses” (as I already did above), it’s also the time that he called Spock a “pointed-eared hobgoblin” and that’s not okay. The rest of that scene is still great though.

Will I become like Chekov, doctor? Okay, doc, I know everyone’s going mildly nuts in “The Tholian Web” because of the space crazies, but Uhura’s claim that she saw the captain should have been taken seriously. It was a symptom no one else had displayed. You already knew Kirk was vanishing and reappearing. And later you take Scott seriously when he makes the same claim. Justice for Uhura!

They've lost confidence in you We mentioned this episode in our Spock coverage, but it bears repeating. Everything was out of place in “The Tholian Web,” and McCoy was in rare form being extra racist to Spock the whole time. Even if it’s for good reason (Spock is terrible at command!), McCoy comes off as petty, emotional, and cruel all episode long and that’s not the kind of light-hearted ribbing he usually gives Spock.

It tastes just fine One final blundering McCoy moment comes in The Animated Series episode “The Eye of the Beholder.” “The water is too pure,” according to Spock, before McCoy reveals that it tastes fine. What are you doing drinking untested water on a planet where people have disappeared, bonehead? And getting crushed by a dragon somehow? What is this, amateur hour?

— This blogpost is dead, Jim! We know Bones is a doctor, not an engineer, so fittingly next week we’ll make sure to aim our character spotlight at an engineer! Join us for our celebration of all things Montgomery Scott here on the blog, and also in our continued watchthrough of all Trek over on SoundCloud or wherever you podcast. You can also hail us over on Facebook and Twitter, and maybe don’t keep your scalpels mounted above the biobed, doc. Just a thought.

[jerseyshoresy]

Hullo! Could I request something with a trans man reader (post top surgery, the others dont know hes trans) member of the Sudbury blueberry bulldogs where the readlways showers after the others but shoresy goes to walk in but stops, sees their scars and perhaps healed sh scars and goes to talk to Sanguinet about it asking how he can support you and open a conversation about it without scaring you off? Maybe asking you to practice with him later and you guys talking about it?

Hello! Thanks SO much for requesting this!! I’m sorry it took so long but I really wanted to do this story justice, it’s a very creative request and I like taking my time writing heavier stories like these! I hope this is what you’re looking for, and again, thank you for requesting!! I hope you’re doing well, sending you much love and light :) <3

The Captain You Could Count On

Angst, fluff

Shoresy x transgender male reader

Warnings: self harm scars mentioned (I put them on reader’s stomach for the sake of the story), cussing

“Another great practice, boys! Hit the showers and head home. See you on game day.”

Sanguinet gave all of the players pats on the back as they left the ice, showing them he appreciated all of their hard work. When it was your turn, you smiled warmly at your coach, your skates leaving the ice and catching on the flooring beneath you. You took off the bladed footwear and made your way into the locker room, eager to shed your sweaty uniform and take a much needed shower, but you always waited until the other members of the team had left before doing so. None of your teammates knew you were transgender and you figured they would be able to tell if they saw you shirtless—your top surgery scars were pretty prominent and very obvious if anyone recognized what they were looking at. You also had some other scars that would be on full display if you were to shower publicly and you just weren’t comfortable enough with the idea of that yet. So, instead of clamoring for a spot under the rushing water with 20 other guys, you settled on the bench in front of your locker and waited for everyone to go home before lathering up.

“What’s wrong, m’ lad? Afraid of gettin’ wet with tha other b’ys?” asked Hitch, clapping a hand on your shoulder.

“Settle down,” replied Goody, grabbing shampoo from his bag and walking to the showers.

“The only thing I’m afraid of is making all of you self conscious with how great my body looks,” you teased, making Hitch let out a loud laugh before leaving you alone. You sighed quietly, wishing you could be as carefree as they were about showering. You decided to scroll on your phone to waste time. It worked because before you knew it, there were no more loud voices or leftover bags in the locker room—everyone was gone. You were quick to take off your clothes and soak under the hot water, happy to wash the grime from your skin. Little did you know, someone had stayed behind longer than usual.

“Thanks Sanger,” Shoresy called out, leaving the office and heading to the locker room. Normally he’d already been showered and gone by this time after practice, but Sanguinet had called in him to discuss some new plays before he had a chance to clean off. Now, heading to the showers, he was taken aback by the sound of water running. Who else was here this late? He peeked in quietly, not wanting to scare whoever was rinsing off. It was you! Shoresy’s eyes opened wide in surprise. He’d never seen you without a shirt since you always opted to shower alone. However, he never put too much thought into it; he knew what it was like to be insecure about his body so he figured maybe you were suffering from the same thing. He turned to leave you be, deciding to wait for you to finish before hopping in there himself, but something caught his eye, causing him to take a second look. On your chest were two scars on the bottom of each pectoral—not fresh, but visible. Did you have surgery there for some reason? All of a sudden, a thought smacked into his brain. Were you… transgender? Of course, that didn’t bother Shoresy one bit. You were a hell of a hockey player and that was all that mattered to him. The thing that did bother the Bulldog’s captain, though, were the other little scars littering your stomach. They certainly weren’t surgical and looked to be self inflicted. He furrowed his brows. Were those fresh? He couldn’t tell. He felt his heart start to hammer in his chest. There was no way he would continue to let you struggle emotionally to the point where you’d rather harm yourself than talk to somebody about what you were going through. With one last concerned look your way, Shoresy left to consult with the man who always had answers.

“Sanguinet! I need your fuckin’ help!”

“Huh? With what?” replied the ever helpful coach.

“It’s y/n,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “I accidentally walked in on him in the showers and I saw something I shouldn’t have.”

“It’s the showers, my guy. That happens.”

“No! Not like that,” said Shoresy, shaking his head, “more like… fucked up. Like he’s either been through something bad or is going through it now and I don’t know what to do.”

Sanguinet leaned against his desk, patiently waiting for Shoresy to continue explaining.

“He has scars all over his stomach. I think he did it to himself.”

Shoresy saw the shock register in Sanguinet’s expression. “No way. That’s really shitty.”

“There’s something else, too.”

Sanguinet raised his eyebrows to show he was listening.

“He’s transgender. I saw the top surgery scars.”

Sanguinet nodded in understanding, his arms crossed in front of him. “Sounds like he’s been through a lot and the least we can do is be there for him if he needs us. What were you going to do?”

Shoresy looked sheepish. “That’s why I’m here asking you. I want to support him but I don’t know my next move.”

“Well,” said Sanger, taking in a breath, “the most logical thing to do is just talk to him. You’ll never know the truth if you don’t ask. You’ll also never know how to give him the support he wants if you don’t ask, either. So do what you’re good at doing—talk to him.”

“Okay, yeah. Okay,” he replied, “I can do that. Thank you.”

You were finally out of the shower and feeling good about the state of cleanliness you were in, relishing in the calming scent of your favorite soap. You had just finished getting dressed when you heard footsteps come up behind you. Walking into the locker room was Shoresy and you were grateful you had pulled your shirt on already.

“What are you doing here so late?” you asked him.

“Sanger wanted to go over some plays with me in the office so… yeah,” he said. He was giving off awkward energy, like he wanted to say something else, but was too hesitant for some reason.

“Cool. I’ll see you later,” you said, going to grab your things, but Shoresy stopped you.

“Wait! I was gonna ask if I could practice some of the new plays with you since you’re still here. I know you already showered but all you have to do is skate. I promise I won’t work ya too hard.”

You wanted to refuse him since you were extremely tired from earlier practice, but there was no way you could deny Shoresy’s puppy dog eyes.

“Alright. But just for a few minutes, alright? I’m hungry,” you told him as he beamed at you, the inky darkness of where his missing tooth should be reminding you of the sport you loved so much. You laced your skates as Shoresy grabbed a hockey stick and a few pucks. You guys practiced for quite some time, pucks and playful insults flying across the ice.

“Hey, I have to talk to you about something,” Shoresy said when you guys were cleaning up.

“Sure, man. Anything,” you said, taking note of the serious tone of voice he rarely used.

“Just know that you’re my teammate for life and nothing can change that. I love you, dude.”

Your eyes widened.

Did he figure me out?

“So, anyway, I stayed after practice late and when I went to take a shower, I saw you in there. I went to leave and give you privacy but before I turned around, I saw something that I wanted to ask you about.”

He did.

“My scars?” you guessed, and he nodded.

“I’m just worried about you. I saw the scars on your chest and stomach and I wanted to make sure you knew you could talk to us, any of us, about anything. Except for fucking Frankie, unless you speak French, that big, stupid fuck.”

“I appreciate you looking out for me, I really do,” you started, trying to keep your voice even keeled so he couldn’t tell how nervous you were. “I’m transgender, as you could probably tell from my chest scars, which were from my top surgery. I didn’t want to tell anyone because I was worried that it might change how people view me. People are so judgmental about that stuff and I didn’t want it to get in the way of me playing the game I love. I’m a hockey player first and everything else comes after that. I didn’t want my identity to overshadow my skills.”

“That makes sense to me. I’m sorry you had to hide that all this time,” Shoresy said, taking a seat in the abandoned barn as he maintained his attentive listening.

“Thank you. In regards to the scars on my stomach, I’m not gonna lie, I’ve found myself in some tough moments throughout life and I’ve struggled with learning to deal with things in a healthier way rather than taking out my frustrations on myself.”

“I get that,” interjected the man next to you. “It’s hard feeling like you have no control over some things in life. I found support for my struggles in my family. They pick me up when I’m down and they’re always there for me. I want you to know that me and the rest of the team, we’ll be those people for you. No matter what.”

You didn’t know what to say. Shoresy was being so kind to you that it made you want to smile and cry simultaneously.

“Thank you, Shore. Genuinely. I never realized how nice it was to get all this shit off my chest.”

He glanced down at your chest. “Literally?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” you laughed.

“But really, y/n,” Shoresy said, putting his hands on your shoulders, “if you find yourself in a spot where you feel like you’re losing control, text me, call me, bust down my fucking door. Just, please, don’t ever harm yourself again. You get beat up enough in our games.”

You let another laugh slip out of your mouth. “Okay. I will, I promise.” You scrunched your nose as you backed away from your teammate. “Now go take a shower. You stink.”

Shoresy grinned lazily. “We were having such a touching moment and you ruined it.”

“Goodbye, Shoresy,” you called out, lifting your gear bag onto your shoulder.

“Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll see you at the next game.”

You nodded. “You too.”

As he watched you leave, Shoresy couldn’t ignore the warm feeling permeating his body. You seemed to be excited about the idea of communicating openly with him and your other teammates; he was hoping you would take his words to heart and get in touch with him next time you needed to talk. He wanted to be the captain you could count on both on and off the ice.

[madlittlecriminal]

smut with jonathan crane and dysphoric transmasc reader pls!! tysm!!

- 💌

So Pretty ↦ Jonathan Crane × Transmasc!Reader

Warnings: slight angst, gender dysphoria, reader has top surgery scars, soft!crane because he's a need not a want, talks of bottom surgery, smut, anal, praise, clit playing, aftercare

im not transmasc, so if there's anything i did wrong, feel free to correct me! i still hope you like it, anon!

ive never done anal and this is the first time i write anal so i apologize

for the month of october, i will strictly be wrtitng smut. any requests for fluff or angst will have to wait until november. if you have any smut requests, feel free to send them in!

It came to you like a wave during a storm; unpredictable and unexpected. You lifted your shirt and ran your finger along the scars on your chest. "What's wrong, babe?" Jonathan asked as he leaned against the door frame. "Nothing, Jonathan." He was taken aback and pouted slightly. "Excuse me? 'Jonathan?' Now you have to tell me what's wrong. You never call me by my first name unless we're having a serious conversation." Shit. He was right.

"Be honest. Do you think of me as a boy?" He raised a brow. "No." You look down, hearing him get closer to you until you felt his hand rest on your hip as he pulled you closer to him. "I don't only see you as a boy, I see you as a man. A very handsome man at that. You're my pretty boy, alright?" You look over at him and smile. "Really? Even if I don't have a penis?" He nods. "Yes. If you ever want to get bottom surgery, let me know. I'll be here for you throught the whole process. You mean the world to me, baby." He whispers before planting a soft kiss on your cheek.

You tilted your head to the side when you felt him poking you. "Uh, Jonny?" He hummed in response as his fingers danced along your hip and side. "Are you...hard?" His movements halted as he breathes in sharply. "Perhaps." Your eyes met his and he gives you a shy smile. "I can't help it. You're just so...pretty." You felt your cheeks grow warm at his words. "Just by looking at me?" He gave you a curt nod and you chuckled before kissing his nose. "I'm sorry." You shook your head. "Don't apologize," he nodded before pressing a kiss on your lips. You kissed him back without hesitation, his hands resting on your hips.

He pulled you closer to him, his lips never leaving yours as he backed you both up to the bed. He broke the kiss for a second to take off your shirt before he quickly attached his lips to your neck. You bite your lip in pleasure as he goes down to your shoulders and then to your chest, kissing the scars gently before going down to kiss your happy trail. He removes your pants, chuckling when he saw the wet spot on your boxers. He takes off his shirt and pants as well, before going back up and kissing you softly. "You have no idea how handsome you are in my eyes, baby." You felt your cheeks grow warm once more and smile. "Thank you, my love." He smiled and took off your boxers before taking his off.

He flips you over so that you're on your stomach, slowly bringing your hips up so your ass was in the air. He grabbed a bottle of lube from his bedside table before prepping both of you. It wasn't the first time you've done anal, but it has been a while, so he wanted to be on the safe side with you. "You ready, pretty boy?" You nodded as you gripped the sheets underneath you, feeling your boyfriend slowly slide inside of you. His thrusts were very slow, not wanting to hurt you. While lube worked, you loved how gentle your boyfriend always was with you. You moaned as he continued to thrust slowly, groaning as he did. He lifted you up, so that your back was pressed against his chest as he continued to thrust.

"Fuck, Jon!" You moaned as you reached over to tug his hair, bringing his face closer to yours, making your lips meet in a desperate kiss. His tongue slid in your mouth, swallowing your moans as he slowly began to speed up a bit. "You feel so good around my cock, baby boy." You throw your head back in pleasure and let out a loud moan as he continued to thrust into you. "Faster, please." He chuckled and moved slightly faster. "Yeah, pretty boy? Like this?" You nodded. His hands trailed up your sides as he moaned in your ear. "I love you so much, baby. My darling boy, my love." You bite your lip and tug his hair. "I love you too, baby."

His hand reached down and he began playing with your clit. "I want you to cum with me, baby. Alright? You think you can do that for me?" You nod with a whimper. "Yes," Jonathan nods. "Good boy." He continues to thrust into you as he continues to play with your clit. You felt your legs begin to shake from his fingers playing with your clit and his cock moving. "J-Jonny..." He smirked. "Cum for me, my love." You grip his hair harder as you cum and he came shortly after. He slowly pulled out and grabbed a pack of wipes he had on the bedside table before cleaning you both up.

He then laid beside you and pulled you closer to him, smiling softly. "You're so perfect. Never forget that baby." You nuzzle into him, letting him be the big spoon. "Thank you and I won't. I promise."

[shipskicksandgiggles]

dialogue prompts

so for those unaware of how my life tends to go, I end up in a lot of situations where I end up saying something weird or people say weird things to me, and I like adapting those things into prompt lists. send whatever ship/character/what have you with a number and we’ll see how this goes

“Did I go too far?” “Did you go too far? I called my husband a cartoon lesbian!”

“You’re throwing candy at him and he doesn’t even have his tits out.” “That’s how he gets a peanut butter cup.”

“Conservative radio? That has to be Rush Limbaugh.” “Fuck Rush Limbaugh!”

“I’m a massive fucking atheist, but it brings me so much joy to picture Nancy Reagan in hell.”

“You’re so small, it’s like your body can’t contain your excitement. It’s really funny to watch actually.”

“Do not use the word ‘curate’ in relation to 80s heavy metal. You picked it. ‘Curate’, fuck off.”

“I think the neighbors got evicted.” “No, really? It’s about time.”

“You’re like the guy, what’s his name, can’t talk to girls?” “I’d be mad if you weren’t totally right.”

“When you were little I thought you might have been autistic.” “When I was little?”

“You have been gone for six hours-” “Hello child.” “Hi dad- more than six hours actually-”

“I almost took the wrong exit and ended up in Canada, so that’s my day.”

“Who has childproof locks on their car doors?” “What?” “I don’t know, I got stuck in the backseat of a car because of childproofing that shouldn’t exist.”

“I feel like your boyfriend can’t cook.” “Why would you think that?” “Because you cook for him sometimes.” “Why would that mean he can’t though?”

“I think my grandpa tried to set me up with his pastor’s son. Stop laughing, this is serious.”

“Why did she hate you?” “No idea, at that point I was just trying to survive middle school.”

“Well, I mean, the waitress was flirting with you.” “The waitress was what now?”

“What kind of cosmic fuck up did you make to result in this kind of karma?” “I don’t know. I’m so tired.”

“What are you, a dog? Stop chewing on that, you absolute child.”

“You’re just boobing all over the place.” “Boobing.”

“Wait, hold on, let me guess. May of whatever year we were in seventh grade in Detroit.” “Yeah actually, what the fuck? That’s so specific, how did you do that?”

“I like that you call information about yourself lore… Wait, did you just say you got hit by a car?” “I love the order you processed that in.”

“Who had them pegged as the bitch with the biggest tits in this apartment? Not me, that’s for sure.”

“Come here, I need you to bless the vodka bottle.” “I don’t believe in Jesus.” “You don’t need to, just come bless the bottle.”

“I’m stealing his daughter and if he’s still being a homophobe I’ll steal his wife too.”

“I broke up with my boyfriend and my therapist fucking cheered.” “I don’t disagree with her.”

“You would suck dick for a crab rangoon.” “Oh for sure.”

“Someone just handed me condoms in a way that seemed like he thought I had the hardware to be able to use them, however I like that I pass as someone who does, so I’ll take it.”

“So you’re like, an expert on the Titanic, right?” “Is this about the submarine?” “Maybe.” “Great, buckle in, you’ve come to the right person.”

“Do you want me to explain bottom surgery to you? Because I think you’re going to get grossed out.” “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” (dear reader, she was, in fact, grossed out)

“You have main character things happen to you while having the attitude of a quirky side character, and I love it.”

“Is that a lemon?” “It’s a cat, but I see where you’re coming from.”

“During pride month? This is homophobia.” “That was loud.” “Good, I hope the homophobe heard.”

“He was like, ‘is your roommate hot?’ and I was like ‘what, yeah, why?’ like who asks that?” “You think I’m hot?”

“So I have a proposition.” “No.” “You don’t even know what it is.” “Yes I do. That one asshole is hitting you up for a booty call. Don’t.” “Bitch.”

“Where are your wisdom teeth?” “Probably in a medical waste container somewhere if they’re still on this plane of existence.”

“I thought he was kidding!” “Who would joke about a turtle?”

“Hey, can someone drive me to the Urgent Care?” “Like now?” “If you’re not busy.”

“Listen. I avoided admitting myself to a hospital for any reason for almost 17 years. Don’t yell at me for not knowing that wasn’t an Urgent Care problem.”

“Whose Rabbi came to the soccer game?”

“Are you fucking colorblind? That’s purple.”

“I got hit on at the grocery store.” “Was he cute?” “He looked greasy.”

“How do you not know who David Bowie is?” “That is the loudest I’ve ever heard you, holy fuck.”

“When I get wine drunk, I get horny.” “We could have a threesome.” “There’s four people here.” “Oh. Foursome then.”

“Hey can I give you a dollar for one of those beanie babies? I need to butcher it for a cat toy.” “Sure?”

“Sit, we need to talk to you about something.” “Remember when you got high a couple weeks ago and had a gender crisis?”

“Are you going to stab me?” “What? Oh, butter knife, sorry.”

“You know when men have that little swoop of hair? The queef?” “Oh my god I’m crying, you mean a quiff.”

“There is a very large bug on my flowers and I don’t want to touch it.” “That’s my cicada, he’s already dead.”

“Dude, I’ve lived with you for like three months, you’re so obviously a switch.”

“Sometimes you say things and I do not question you because they are the most on brand things you could possibly say. Like sure, I’ll buy that you listen to punk music and have a high pain tolerance. That seems right.”

[hibernationsuit-remade]

🧥🌵🪹🍄🎤🏡🌃🏳️ + toby!! :]

AAAA THANK U!!!!!

another oc emoji ask game

🧥 COAT: What’s their style like? Do they put a lot of effort into what they wear?

Tobias always goes comfort first whenever he chooses his clothes & shoes! He dislikes everything that is fitted (excluding some turtlenecks) and prefers oversized clothes all the time. His favorites are sweaters, turtlenecks and collared shirts, but he also has two hoodies he wears every now and then. Most of his pants are high-waisted, and he enjoys tapered or straight pants, but could also use wide leg ones. He also likes joggers, specifically the ones that could fall under the smart casual category. Toby dislikes jeans very much and feels uncomfortable in them ajdjjfkfkfk

He has a few fits he uses as loungewear and it's usually some light green/grey/brown shirts and shorts. His pajamas are usually just short sleeved big shirt and shorts.

He's not really into accessories and if he ever picks something it's some warm scarf or sunglasses, depending on the need + the weather. Toby has a beige tote bag with yellow leather bottom, and he also embroidered small stars on it at some point. They shine a little in direct sunlight :]

Toby really likes long trench coats and has a dark grey one. He also has a duffle coat for more colder weather. In other situations that require a coat, he mostly uses his leather jacket.

I should also note that he also wears Klara's clothes every now and then :^)

rest under read more:

🌵 CACTUS: What are some reasons someone might not like them? What are their personality flaws?

Toby's overly optimistic, cheerful and may act too naive or hopeful in bad situations which tends to annoy people. He's also not afraid of saying his opinions and telling someone that he thinks they were rude or did something bad.

His preferences for justice and ethics has also closed many doors in front of him bc people simply don't want to deal w him and his complaints NNFNFBCBC

His other personality flaws include great amount of people pleasing (it's Bad) and being somewhat disorganized and prone to procrastination.

🪹 EMPTY NEST: When did they move out of their family home, if ever? What was the relationship with their family like?

When he was 17!!! He was in his senior year of bachelor's degree and basically presented his theory about this one specific miracle drug idea that could be used in emergencies with life threating injuries, and this one corporation was like "hey what a cool idea come work in our lab to see if it works and also get a doctorate at the same time" and Toby was like "okay yay". WELL his mom was like "Um no you are going to med school" and so they have this big argument where he just basically says how tired he is of his parents controlling his life and doing big choices for him all the time, and his mom is all like "i mean if you don't want to aim high to be a cool doctor then you're not a part of family" to try and pressure him into agreeing, and instead he was like "well okay" and just left. He then reached out to the corporation abt the job and went to work there for a few years. He did get his doctorate and the top surgery & hrt they promised as an employee benefit but, oh boy, at what cost.

ANYWAY ENOUGH ABOUT THAT! Let's talk about Tobias and his family. His mom (Claudia) and dad (Oliver) are both doctors who met and married during med school. When Toby was 6, they divorced bc of several reasons, which was kinda bad for Toby bc unlike his Claudia, Oliver was always chill and supportive. Claudia then remarried with a guy she was seeing even before the divorce, also a med school guy who was studying with her on the surgeon specialization thing or whatever it's called. This guy really didn't care about Tobias other than, like, watching after him when his mom wasn't home.

Claudia is a very demanding person and always tends to think that everyone should aim high and not doing so bad. But she also had this dream of becoming a famous figure skater and since that did not work out for her, she chose to make little Toby into one. And so, Toby ended up going to figure skating classes five times a week, and studying all the other free time he had since he 1) started early and 2) got to skip like four school years bc of his skills and knowledge. Basically everything that was happening in his life was his mom's decisions and honestly he did not like that at all but hey, what can you do?

She also constantly demanded him to do his best in basically everything and got really upset if he got an average/a bit better than average grade, and honestly even the best grades weren't really enough for her :/

Once he got into the Skating Accident (tm) when he was 15, thanks to Frank, and managed to get his ass out of figure skating field, his mom basically sent him to university since he now had "more time to study" (which Toby would've rather used for fun hobbies, of, you know, finally getting friends). And sooooo Toby was kinda living alone on campus and visited his home every now and then. Then when he graduated the whole argument happened and he just, well, left.

Basically, to sum up: he really dislikes his mother and doesn't really care about his stepfather bc he doesn't care about Tobias either. He hasn't talked to them ever since he left and is quite content with that.

As for Oliver? Claudia cut all the ties to him and Tobias basically never saw him again, at least until he was 40. Toby got into a really bad emergency situation bc of his last Earth job and corporate sent special emergency medics (let's be honest they sent it only bc Toby is Klara's husband) who always have a anesthesiology specialist with them. Who was the specialist that time, you ask? Oliver. What a fun family reunion haha

ANYWAY they are slowly catching up with all the years they haven't seen each other, and Tobias is kinda happy.

🍄 MUSHROOM: Would they ever experiment with psychedelics? How would it affect them?

LMAO long hair era Toby definitely did try them at least once or twice? I don't think he remembers that much from it bc he barely remembers anything from that time due to all other substances he took, but I'd say he probably didn't have any strong effects and propbably just passed out.

🎤 MICROPHONE: What does their voice sound like? Do they have a notable accent? Can they sing, and if so, what would they sing at a karaoke night?

OOOOOH I think I never mentioned it but I actually picked a voiceclaim for Toby! It's T. J. Thyne, specifically the way he voices Morlund in Horizon: Forbidden West :3

He doesn't really have a specific accent but he definitely uses tons of filler words and kinda mixes up words quite often, and sometimes ends up freezing while talking to think of the right word or remember what word he is supposed to. Life of a stressed multilingual dumbass.

Fun fact: Tobias would Never go to karaoke, he does Not like singing, especially in front of others. That said, if he was forced to, or, well, let's say he hypothetically agrees, then he would probably choose some song he knows he's able to sing and which he knows very well. If he lived in a modern world he would probably pick Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode.

🏡 HOUSE WITH GARDEN: Where do they live? Do they have a house to themselves or do they live with somebody, or something else?

He lives in an apartment!!! He prefers apartments so much more than living in a house (his childhood home was a two floor house and god he hated it soooo much for some reason).

Back when Toby was living alone, he usually went for small studio-like flats bc he likes to have an open space. Now that they live with Klara they have (read: rent bc no one w their salary can afford own apartment 😳) a loft.

i swear once i get my paperlike and apple pencil for my new ipad the apartment plans are the second thing i'm going to draw after klara's ref sheets for art fight

🌃 NIGHT WITH STARS: Do they like the night life? Do they go clubbing or to bars?

you know how i mentioned how he got into the corpo lab worker life when he was 17. i know people would go 'he should be at the club' but alas he started going clubbing once he was 19 LMAO Long hair era Toby was a club guy and also kinda a one night stand guy bc he desperately needed to feel loved and his a bit fucked up brain was somehow telling him that being fucked is definitely the same thing. ANYWAY. Since Tobias doesn't drink alcohol he kinda was the guy who everyone thought would probably drive them home since he didn't drink but no, he doesn't know how to drive (he even sucks at driving bicycles).

Once Toby gets out of his long hair era (when he is 23) and finally starts his master's degree in another university as a "new page", he doesn't really go clubbing anymore but instead goes to student events every now and then and also starts joining the organizational teams bc he realizes that organizing events is definitely funnier than attending them.

🏳️ WHITE FLAG: What is their breaking point? When do they feel like they have to give up, if ever?

Toby can go really far in things, and frankly doesn't really care that much about something happening to him (i mean, he does start caring later and starts to take it easy but lmao he is still kinda bad at it), BUT if he realizes that something will mean that doing something will put others in bad situations or danger or anything, then he will definitely stop and give up.