#like them feeling joy and comfort in anything is actually hurting people or some shit

[voidfire-studios]

Why do people hate teenage girls so much??? That's kind of weird. Stop it. Get some help.

[walpu]

[Kicks down door. Gets in. Fixes the door. Sits down and puts this on the table]

Aventurine x Halovian!reader, your honor.

Halovians, stars and icons across the universe. Shrewd, charismatic, and few can peer past their mysterious and elegant smiles. Not to mention the radiating frequencies of their halo can convey the nature of their thoughts in the form of telepathy.

Tldr: Aventurine can't decipher what's on their mind for shit unless they convey so.

Such beauty, such grace, but they will be a lost finch like it's another Tuesday. Despite the common knowledge that Halovians are stars and icons across the universe, they're more... Free and out in the wild (no responsibility to serve The Family, travels the cosmos alone, etc etc) and is unafraid to convey their emotions in another way.

Their wings would brush his face for giggles. When agitated they'd plop their head on a table and flap their wings, tapping the table rapidly, same goes with happiness. Although shrewd, and won't let anyone sense their true feelings they'd cup his face and give him smooches. Asking how's his day? Anything new happening? They brought something and he might've like it because it reminded them of him.

Their heart would sing with joy and mourn with his sadness. What did he do to score an angel such as them?

(Hmmm, cheese-)

- 🪽

I'm a blind rat and at first I misread Halovian as Heliobus and was like huh okay it's something to think about actually 😭

I really like the idea, it was fun to write!

Aventurine x Halovian!reader

characters - Aventurine

notes - gn!reader, fluffy, a bit of a hurt/comfort, no beta

Okay first of all since Halovians quite literally can translate their thoughts and feelings to someone, not to mention how shrewd they are, I feel like Aven would have hard time relaxing around you at first. He is used to be the one who can see through people while hiding behind the nonchalant mask. And now not only he's the one being read like an open book, he also can't decipher you.

It's sort of a challenge for him at first. He learns to see even the smallest changes in the way you act, how your voice trembles ever so slightly, how your wings flap adorably when you experience intense emotions. He doesn't notice when he starts observing you not out of desire to protect himself but out of curiosity and then out of adoration.

Man he falls hard.

There's just something so precious to him how you never use your abilities against him. Yes it's a bare minimum but it's still something special to him okay.

He would absolutely adore your wings. Wouldn't touch them without your permission of course, but once he knows you're comfortable with this he always tries to caress them in some ways.

Would try to spread them carefully to admire them.

If you don't take offense in being compared to birds, he would give you some bird-relared nickname.

Someone on twitter pointed out that female Halovians have bigger wings but smaller hallows and it's the opposite for the male Halovians.

So he would pick a bird to nickname you after depending in the size of your wings lol

And if you think it would be some cute bird, then, well, you're not wrong, it's usually something endearing BUT he would NOT hesitate to call you his pigeon or pelican when he feels like teasing you.

While Aventurine never hides his origin and is, sadly, used to people's comments about him being an Avgin, it would still hit very differently when people would whisper about you, a Halovian, being with an Avgin. He usually doesn't say anything about it, just hiding behind his smile. Even if the mask cracks, showing obvious discomfort. Remember the face he made when Ratio brought up his origin? Yeah, this.

Please shut everyone up. Doesn't matter if you give them an unsettling biblically accurate angel looking ass smile and tell them to Be Quite or if you straight up tell them to stfu, just let Aven see that you are willing to defend him and your relationship.

Reassure him too. He will laugh softly and tell you that you worry too much, that he knows you love him, but he would still treasure your words.

Okay back to positive stuff, he would help you to groom your wings!!! Would learn all about it too. Please compliment his needy ass on his wing-grooming skills, he didn't sleep for the whole night trying to learn how to do it correctly.

Be ready for a lot of silly questions he asks just to pester you and get your attention.

"darling, my darling, and what would happen if you'd throw your hallow as a frisbee? would it come back?" "it's sharp enough to cut through rock, Aven". "ohhh, pretty but deadly, just how I like it~"

Adores it when you tickle his face with your wings, he always leans into the caress with the expression of a spoiled lapcat.

Would find it funny if you'd use your telepathy for silly things. Like he takes you to some business meeting with him or, on the country, you take him somewhere with you, and it's just boring as hell. So you sit there, smile mysteriously, all while telepathically whinig to Aventurine how this place sucks and how you hate all those people. It takes a lot for him not to laugh.

If you flap your wings during kisses then it's the end of him I fear.

[quinn-joseph]

"Not just Ken" - Ken x Reader

I read some cute stuff yesterday with Ken x Reader and I thought about writing something because my head was all over the place. I like to write but I'm not sure this sucks. Let me know if you like the story and I can manage to write about their story 🥹🥰

~~~~~~☆☆☆~~~~~~~~~~~~☆☆☆~~~~~~

Word count: 1.6k

You're a lawyer and you've met Ken about two months ago, but the guy - the doll - decided he would live better in Barbieland. But what if he wanted to actually live in real world and give a chance to be normal?

You were in your office finishing another appointment with a client after a rough long day of work, not enough coffee cups could make you feel less stressed and you were still going to see two more of them. As you sat in your chair you take the few free minutes you have to check your social media and texts, letting a loud sigh fill the ambiance. A knock on your door gets your attention off the mobile and you look your assistant's head getting in the office, she was a little confused and kinda annoyed, which sometimes wasn't new for you considering the amount of work you were doing during the week. Shelby cleared her throat, looked behind her and looked at you again.

- There's a weird blond man who wants to see you, he says it's important and doesn't wanna wait for another 2 hours. - She emphasized the "2 hours". Holy shit, two hours? What kind of person waits that long to talk to you and doesn't have anything else to do? You realize the weird blond man is nobody but Ken himself. Jesus, Ken, you never learn.

- Let him in, thank you Shelby. - You let a small grin as she gives space for the man-doll to enter and he looks at you like he depends on whatever he wanted to say to you, even though it makes you worried because he's always smiling and spreading joy around him.

- Hey, Ken. What is it you want? - He looked concerned, a bit stressful to say the least. He tried not to keep making eye contact for too long, and he also tries really hard to find the right words.

- I, uh.. I think I'm going back to Barbieland. - His words sounded way too long in your ears and you actually froze for a few seconds, trying to digest the news. You've spent the last two months trying to make him feel comfortable around real people, taught him how to do real people things and made him feel like he could actually give a chance living like a man, not a doll. Boy, did that hurt. And you thought after all this time together he would've enjoyed everything. He sat down on the chair and looked straight at you, a different spark in his blue eyes.

- I'm not sure I'm ready to live in this world, most of the time I like being around and doing different stuff I never did there, but it's too hard to have feelings, you know? I really cherish you, a lot to be honest, but I don't think I can be someone who has real feelings, I try too hard and I fail and it's just not good.

You sat on another chair next to him, slowly holding his cheeks with both hands, bringing him closer to you.

- You look sad, Ken. And that's a feeling, when you feel that way it means you care about other people. - You smiled and saw his lips raising a little.

- That's a feeling? But how can I tell when I have a feeling? Does it just happen? - His genuine question made your heart explode, you know how he's managed to learn all the things you wanted to teach him.

- Most of the time it does, but if it helps you can say whenever you get that. Right now, when you look at me, what is it you think?

It took 15 long seconds for him to say anything, but the way he held your hands that were still in his face you felt a different vibration in your body you couldn't explain. Ken looked down and up straight at you, blue eyes sparkling and transmitting something unusual. A few streak of hair falling in his forehead made him look like he came straight out of a magazine, the same feeling you had the very first time you met him

- I think.... I wanna kiss you, but.. - You acted out of yourself for that moment and stick your lips together as if it was the right thing to do. Obviously, he didn't react like you expected and of course he wouldn't know what a kiss was. That's why you just left your lips pressed for a while, until he realized it was something good he was feeling.

You didn't want to end it, but as soon as you opened your eyes you saw he still had his closed. You held his perfect big hand with your right hand, and with the other one you fixed his bang, leaving a trace with your thumb through his perfect jawline.

- So? - You asked, feeling a little numb, expecting him to finally open his eyes and look at you. Took him way too long to do that, but when he did he opened the biggest smile, showing all of his perfect teeth.

- That was amazing, can we do it again? - He asked, still looking like he had a shot of serotonin in his body. Ken held your hand and your face and gave you another kiss, this time he tried to open his mouth and you gave him permission, trying to find his tongue. The man let out a groan you weren't expecting and it made you tremble between your legs, but forced to stay sane because he was still someone different.

When you parted ways he kissed the back of your hand and smiled at you.

- I've never done that before, but I've watched some movies and saw people kissing all the time. How did I do?

You laughed softly and cherished his face with one of your hands, still feeling numb from the kiss.

- It was really good, Ken. But you still wanna leave, and we can't keep doing that if you're not staying. - You sighed between the words and the realization of him not being there anymore opened a hole in your heart. Never in a million years would you think feeling something for a man-doll would hurt like hell, but he made his presence more than just comfortable and wonderful.

- I don't know what to say now. I guess I wanna go back, I'm afraid I won't be a good person here. - He looked down and rubbed his face like he was starting to have all the emotions at the same time. It must be pain. He was sad when he came in, felt happy when he kissed you and now he was distressed. - Do you think I can try? I really like you, I know that. But what if I don't act like you all?

- Look, you don't have to fight against it, just take your time. What you're getting now is a mix of emotions and it means you have feelings. You know I'm always gonna be by your side if you decide to stay, but I can't choose for you.

- If you could, would you like me to stay? - He asked, looking at you like a lost puppy. Of course he would do that, even if it wasn't intentional. "In a fucking heartbeat, yes".

- I would love if you stayed. I told you before, I would always help you get through all this. - You smiled at him, giving him the comfort he needed. You were always there for him, you made him make friends with people you trusted and know would never hurt him. You made him realize real world isn't so bad, even though you prepared him to the madness and evilness that could happen along the way.

- I just don't know if I would be good enough for you. I wasn't good enough for Barbie, she didn't care about me like I cared about her. And now I understand what a feeling is, because when she turned me down I felt sad. I wrote her a song, talked about how she only saw me as a friend.

His words sounded really hurt, and you weren't sure it was a good option to make him stay and he clearly wasn't over her. It was all fucked up for you at that moment, but you just wanted to live the present, the future can wait.

- Hey, I'm not sure I told you before, but you're enough okay? You're something any woman, or even a doll, would love to have as company. If she didn't see you as a boyfriend that's too bad for her, she's losing one of the best things in that world. - You gave him a genuine hug and he tightened his grip around you. Ken let out a sigh and you realized he was definitely having his feelings all over the place and it wasn't something new, he just couldn't see through it.

- If I stay, can we make this thing work? I wanna become better. - The blond man asked in a muffled way as his face was still resting on your shoulder. - I wanna be Kenough for you.

You couldn't resist but to smile and laugh a little at the sweet pun he made. After a few seconds hugging him, you bit your lip and agreed with him. He gave you another hug, this time he made sure he wouldn't let go of you so soon and you could hear Ken say "thank you". You have no idea what's the next step as you were still lost in everything that happened in such short time. He would never hurt you, and you knew you would never hurt him either. He was willing to give a new life a chance, and you made sure you'd be there with him. Maybe you could make this work, maybe you could live in your own "Barbieland".

[ftmtftm]

I’m sorry but until xenogenders and neopronouns can understand that I don’t want to “share my pronouns”, that I want to go through life as a normal, binary man, that I want assumptions to be made, that t isn’t some fun thing but a medical necessity for the rest of my life, that being trans isn’t a celebration but a condition for me and that I never want to be in a pride parade or even really open about it, until y’all can respect that, every single one of you, at least the fucking majority of you, then i can’t take anything seriously. I have been outed, assaulted, misgendered, and a whole bunch of other shit by “Tucutes” who walked all fucking over me as a binary trans person, I’ve been forced to be okay with they/them pronouns and been forced to be called the t-slur by a fake trans person because it was “affirming” for them to use on “other trans people”, I’ve been forced to wait years for t because the lines weee clogged up because people wanted to microdose it because they didn’t actually want the effects but they wanted to feel special, I’ve been outed as trans by fake trans people who want everyone to know what a cool catch I am, I’ve been told how gross t made me, I’ve been pushed out of every space that makes an effort to include as many people as possible because they start using rhetoric that sounds like the same rhetoric my transphobic father uses.

I cannot ever find joy in being trans, there is nothing to find joy in for me. Ever. I’m sick of people acting like it’s fun and silly and goofy. I’m sick of people appropriating a medical condition. I will always be sick of it. I am truly sorry that you had someone assault you and that they happened to be part of a community that I am also, but all transmeds want is some fucking respect for not doing this for whatever “euphoria” or political reason but because we fucking have to. All we want is respect and to not have our medical condition turned into playing make believe that you’re a “catgender” or an alien or whatever the fuck, do that on your own terms I don’t care, but the association with dysphoria and the fact that you will spit in the fucking faces of dysphoric binary trans people? That’s why transmeds exist

.

Bullet points because genuinely, my patience is beginning to run very thin for you anon. My ask box and the new post button have two separate functions and I think there is one you should be using instead of the other.

This is just attention seeking behavior at this point, and I'll give it to you and I'll be compassionate but I won't let your shit slide.

I'm sorry, but this is genuinely like looking in a mirror at my 15-20 year old self and it sucks and I honestly feel very sorry for you. Your pain and upset is very real. Your feelings do matter. And? You need to talk to a mental health professional. Serious advice. You need a therapist or some kind of support group if you do not have one already. That is a lot of baggage that deserves to be explored with someone who can genuinely help you in a controlled environment - not the askbox of random trans people you take issue with because they remind you of traumatic events in your life. Your triggers and people who remind you of people who have hurt you are your responsibility to deal with. It's not the business of people who are literally just living their lives in ways that make them happy. The world doesn't need to change around you for your own comfort, you need to change yourself to make yourself comfortable.

It's honestly okay if being trans makes you upset. It's okay to lament and even grieve a life you wish you had but can't have because you are not cis. Again though, that is not an issue that people who aren't like you are causing though. It's genuinely your business to deal with those emotions - not theirs.

You are not a doctor. You are not a medical professional. You are not the one giving care and other people's medical needs, decisions, and histories are none of your g'ddamn business. It is absolutely ridiculous that wait times are what they are and that access to care is not what it should be - but that is a failure of the system not the people. You legitimately sound like working class folks who complain about people on food stamps "taking up all the government resources" and people who complain that "immigrants are taking all our jobs" right now. You are putting the burden of the system onto the individual when it legitimately isn't their fault. Ultimately you are actively being failed by the medical system you are attempting to covet, not by your fellow trans people.

I've also been told I'm disgusting for being on T. I've also been told I'm disgusting for wanting facial and body hair, for feeling comfortable in my masculinity, for loving being a man in all of its complexities. Even by other trans people. You are not alone in that experience. The solution to working through those emotions isn't to throw conservative complaining about food stamps and immigrants level tantrums about it like you are doing now though.

Being trans can be fun. Being trans can be silly and goofy. Again, it might not be that way for you and it sounds like you've been in an environment where you're not allowed to love yourself for any reason, let alone for being trans, so it's probably very hard for you to conceptualize experiences outside of your own - but you sound... very young. I promise it gets better with time and distance. Please leave the environments you are in when you are able, they don't sound healthy for you.

Point of order: My ex was not a transmedicalist, by any means. I was assaulted by them and felt disgusting and dysphoric because of it and found transmedicalism on my own afterwards to try to validate my sense of self. I was hurt by someone else and then turned my hurt into a weapon. It sounds like you've been hurt and are also turning that hurt into a weapon. I hope some day you're able to put it down.

[hollybell51]

In this timeline

Navigation

Trevor Holden (0115) x Philip Pearson (3326)

Travelers (2016)

Word count: 11.5K

Summary: Philip has made some bad decisions. This isn't one of them.

Content: Smut, hurt/comfort, bit of fluff (I guess?), Philip is horrendously down bad, Trevor is too, making out, hickeys, hand jobs, blow jobs, anal, fingering, dirty talk (like a tiny bit dw), Trevor calls Philip "man" during sex, top Trevor/bottom Philip in an attempt to avoid Trevor's accidental twinkification (I fear this may have backfired), (there are honestly switchy moments too so idk if I'd label it as anything other than a healthy flexible dynamic), Philip's hallucinations, the age gape is mentioned but just in passing, implied/referenced drug use (guys c'mon it's Philip), everything canon typical. This takes place after s3 e3. I may have missed some things so lemme know if I should add anything xx

Notes: Happy valentines day! What even was season 3 honestly these two are so fucking whipped for each other it's stupid. How can anyone look at them and see anything but a married couple who are deeply, disgustingly in love with each other. Honestly. I'm so upset that this got cancelled (even though I lowkey liked the ending) so my insufferable ass is probably gonna deal with that through taking matters into my own hands. Also side note this is the first time I've posted m/m so don't be too mean I actually don't really know how men work so... yeah. Shit's been rough lately, breakup and car crash in the space of two days so I actually haven't proofread this sorry (there might be mistakes but that's ok because to err to be human <3) and also I’m literally a (queer) girl and I know nothing about gay (man) sex and it shows. You have been warned.

Philip had woken that morning (morning? Or afternoon? He can’t remember. It doesn’t feel like it had been morning when he’d finally swum up out of Marcy’s sedative) with Trevor in his bed. Well, it wasn’t Trevor, not really, but it was still nice. Not Trevor was smiling at him, wriggling closer, his hand finding Philip’s and pulling it towards his chest. Philip had blinked and he had shimmered, dispersed into light, reformed. He’d blinked again and Not Trevor was gone, and then the real world was flooding in and he half wished he hadn’t woken up at all. 

It’s been happening more and more often lately. Philip looks up from the computer screens and Not Trevor is already smiling at him. Not Trevor interrupts him with a kiss as he walks past. Not Trevor pads barefoot with a towel wrapped around his waist out of the bathroom and winks as Philip watches him go. Philip kneels next to the couch to pick up a ball bearing he’d knocked off the table from under its edge and when he looks up Not Trevor’s legs are either side of him and he has his head tilted back, shirt discarded and he’s panting hard. Philip has no doubt what that particular version of himself had just been doing. On the flip side, he pushes his chair back to take a break and Not Trevor grins up at him from between his legs, he leans over Philip from behind and slides his hand down his front, braces himself against the shower wall, tells Philip to turn around and get on his hands and knees and a million other things and Philip curses the update because none of those images are ever going to leave his head. 

Philip’s not too proud to admit when he likes someone. He’s human, after all, even if some days he doesn’t feel it, and Trevor is beautiful. It’s not just his host, either, although it probably helps to have been blessed looking like that, but there’s something about what 0115 and Trevor Holden have become — Philip’s Trevor, the team’s Trevor, 0115’s own Trevor — that pulls Philip in like a magnet. His joy is addictive. His enthusiasm for life, while it sometimes grates on Philip’s considerably less enthusiastic nerves, is infectious and maybe what people say about opposites attracting each other is right. Not even opposites, really — Philip doesn’t think they’re opposites, but he knows they’re not so-called twin flames — but something about Trevor balancing Philip. Pulling him out of those particularly dark little holes he knows it’s all too easy to get stuck in. Hell, he fell into one last night.

So Philip’s been peeking into other timelines and it’s been fueling the Trevor thing and now he’s waking up and half wishing that what he’s seeing is real. He wants to reach out and grab Trevor and never let go. He wants to stay in this bed with him and never have to do another mission again and just be and let humanity save itself. But, he tells himself firmly as he swings his legs over the side of the mattress and pauses, letting his body stabilise and adjust, that is not going to happen. No amount of wishing will make it. 

Carly and Marcy have explained, as best they can, and he really does feel bad for pulling that kind of shit when they’re all under stress, when nothing feels like it’s going right for anyone and they all have their own bullshit to deal with (he knows all about that, thanks to the update), but Aleksander’s face is still on the computer screens and Philip also knows Mac and Trevor will follow through. And that is where his brain snags for the second time today. Trevor, who found him on the floor and called Marcy over, “panicked” is the word the medic used, and then took off to kill a kid — to help Mac kill a kid. Trevor has faith in the Director, in the Grand Plan, Philip knows that as well as anyone, but he still cringes at the thought of what his roommate — because calling Trevor friend doesn’t quite feel right when he’s seen what he looks like when Philip is not going to complete that thought, they’re past coworkers, and he doesn’t feel like the other guy’s teammate anymore — must be thinking and feeling and doing right now. 

But then, after a few hours of Marcy and Carly doing their best to help him and Philip doing his best not to scream or break something or walk out the door and never come back, the Messenger comes through and just like that it’s all ok again. Marcy and Carly are relieved. Philip is relieved. A massive weight has been lifted off all their shoulders, so why does he still feel so heavy? 

He walks through erasing Mac’s memory like he’s walking through a dream, manages not to stare too long at the insubstantial vision of Trevor’s hand on his knee as they take their leader back to his house and (not uncarefully) deposit him in his bed. They leave. They drive back to ops. Marcy asks if he’s alright and he nods, doesn’t miss the way she says something too quiet to make out to Trevor as she heads back to David. Carly stays for longer, cleans a gun, then makes her exit with a firm hand on Philip’s shoulder and a tight smile. Then they’re alone, and Philip is staring at the screen with a cup of something (he thinks it might be tea, but it’s not hot anymore) he doesn’t remember getting in his hand.  

He doesn’t even hear Trevor approach until the engineer sighs, settling himself next to Philip’s shoulder. 

“The mother even speaks Romanian,” he says, steaming mug cradled in his hands. 

Philip glances at him and he shrugs. “Well that’s great, I’m obviously happy about that.” And he is, he really is. The woman smiling in the photograph looks like a kind person. She doesn’t have the sharpness about her eyes that Aleksander’s previous foster parents did, and maybe the familiarity of the language will help. He knows it did when they rescued the boy in the first place. The word rescue, even just in his mind, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He could have avoided the whole mission — putting Trevor and Mac through that — if he’d just stuck to what he was supposed to. There’s no way that this wasn’t some sick lesson. But still… “Why didn’t we start there?”

Trevor pauses before he answers, eyes still locked on the computer screen, brow furrowed. “That wasn’t the path he was on.” 

Sometimes Philip forgets how old Trevor — 0115 — is. He doesn’t act like an old man, as much as the others (Philip included) call him that and joke about it, as much as Trevor himself is open and just as willing to talk about the fact. But there are moments like these when Philip can see 0115’s plural lifetimes of experience and knowledge and wisdom poking through that barely adult face, and it catches him off guard. He’s not put off by Trevor’s age, Truth be told, he’s not sure if anything could put him off Trevor, but it can still be a little unnerving. 

“You don’t need to explain that part to me.” Philip tries not to sound annoyed, because he isn’t. Not really. “What I'm asking you is why we didn’t get a mission to change his path in the first place.” 

Again, Trevor shrugs, and on anyone else the gesture would look flippant. Not him, though. Nothing’s ever flippant with Trevor unless he wants it to be. “Maybe we did. The Director has to thread the needle on billions of possibilities happening to billions of people in a billion different places all over the world. If it seems hard to understand the steps that lead to a particular outcome, it’s because it’s literally impossible for any of us to understand that.” 

Philip can feel Trevor’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t look up. “I hate that.” 

There’s a pause, and he feels Trevor shift infinitesimally closer. “Yeah,” he says. “But you can’t argue with the results.” 

This time Philip does raise his eyes from the screen, turning in his chair to face his roommate. The other guy is perched on a filing cabinet, and Philip has the distinct urge to tell him to just get a chair. He looks a little ridiculous; elbows on his knees, feet resting against the desk (he really wants to tell him to get a chair), cup in his hands and that look that’s so sincere he’d laugh if he saw it on anyone else. It’s so… him and Philip can’t look away. 

Trevor sighs, leans forward and sets down his cup, his feet slipping off the desk as he twists to face Philip. “It wasn’t your fault,” he tells him. 

Philip shakes his head, looking away. He wishes he could believe Trevor, wishes he had just an ounce of his conviction. “It was. By definition, Trevor.” 

“You were trying to save him.” 

“And I made things worse. The Director was teaching me a lesson, I know it was. I know… I know I shouldn’t have tried to interfere.” 

“Hey, hey.” Trevor’s hand is firm and warm on Philip’s shoulder. “You tried to do what you thought was right. And yeah, it didn’t really work out, but it’s in the past. We can’t change that.” He stops, as if realising the irony of his words, then, “Nobody blames you, Philip.” 

“They should.” I do. 

Trevor is close enough that Philip can see the evening sun gilding the tips of his eyelashes, and his voice is so gentle it hurts. “What good is it gonna do now, huh? How is holding onto all that shit and dishing out blame and responsibility gonna help anyone?” 

Philip doesn’t have an answer for that, but he’s not sure if that matters. Not sure if he could speak even if he wanted to, because Trevor is still touching him and Philip must have slid his chair closer because he doesn’t remember the gap between them being this small. Trevor is searching Philip’s face, and he can practically see the cogs ticking behind his eyes — which, up close, never fail to suck Philip’s focus like a vacuum. 

“It’s not your fault. It was never going to be your fault, Philip.”

Philip swallows hard, tongue darting out over his lips. It’s too quiet and too loud all at once, and he wants to look away and he never wants the moment to end. The world is blurry, all he can see is Trevor, his skin is too tight and Trevor’s simultaneously too close and not close enough and then he is leaning the last few inches and all Philip can think is that this has to be another timeline. Things like this don’t happen to him, at least not this him, and—

Oh. Oh. 

Trevor’s lips are soft against his own, the hand that had been resting on his shoulder sliding up to hover almost hesitantly at his jaw. Philip can feel his own heart beating at a million mph, his blood rushing in his ears, and without even realising it he’s kissing Trevor back, tilting his head and pressing closer, Trevor’s skin so warm against his. 

The thing about what Philip sees — hallucinations, illusions, visions, whatever he calls them — is that he doesn’t feel it. He didn’t process the warmth of Not Trevor’s hand when it had been resting on his leg in the car or against his own that morning. He hadn’t felt the press of Not Trevor’s shoulders between his thighs, hadn’t felt the rush of breath over his skin when Not Trevor had laughed and kissed his cheek. And he certainly hadn’t felt the slick softness of Not Trevor’s tongue brushing over his lip. 

Oh, is all Philip can think again as he lets Trevor part his lips, the barest hint of his tongue sliding against his. A question. A warning. A test. Of course, the answer is yes. Philip knows in his soul that the answer will always be yes for Trevor, no matter what timeline they’re in. He feels himself sinking, floating, and when he pushes back against Trevor and slips his own tongue into his mouth, he can taste the tea he was drinking. Trevor is warm and sweet and Philip has never tasted anything so good and now his hand is moving, fingers tangling in Philip’s hair and if it weren’t for the rushing in his ears he could have sworn that Trevor gives a pleased little hum.  

Philip wants to stand, wants to crowd closer and take Trevor’s face between his hands, stand between his legs and feel the press of his body against his own. He wants to feel Trevor’s skin on his, wants him under him and on top of him and everywhere he can think of. He’s pretty sure that Trevor’s knee is blocking him from getting any closer, that and the fact that he’s still sitting in his chair. 

So, as much as it pains him to do so, Philip pulls back from Trevor’s mouth and pauses, heart still thundering, breathing hard, and looks at him. Trevor’s lips are kiss swollen and still parted, his eyes dark and locked on Philip and Philip alone. His hand doesn’t leave Philip’s hair, thumb moving in a tiny arc over the skin under his ear and he knows that even if he wasn’t a Historian, even if he wasn’t hardwired to remember everything, this moment would be ingrained in his brain forever. 

“Are you…?” Trevor starts, watching as Philip pushes himself to stand, his eyes following his every move, head tipping back. He wavers, and for a moment he’s shirtless and sweaty and his cheeks are flushed pink. Not Trevor tilts his head to the side, teeth digging into his bottom lip, and Philip blinks. His Trevor is still watching him, a hint of concern marring his face. 

Philip just nods, watching Trevor’s hand trail down over his chest, coming to rest right over his heart. He wonders if he can feel how hard it’s beating. He looks so serious and sincere, and Philip still can’t believe that this isn’t just because of the update. This is real. This is happening here and now. 

“Philip,” Trevor murmurs, voice thick. God, Philip could listen to that all day. 

He dips his head, and he’s sure that Trevor is smiling as their lips meet again. Philip is painfully aware of where his legs aren’t quite touching him, just resting either side of his hips, but that doesn’t matter because Trevor’s hand is sliding down his torso to sit feather light on his hip, not quite on the waistband of his pants but close enough that Philip feels blood rushing quickly downwards. He places  his own hands firmly either side of Trevor’s face, feels the muscle there twitch momentarily, the mechanism of Trevor’s neck and jaw sliding smoothly like well oiled machinery as he kisses him deeper, harder. His fingers curve perfectly around the back of Trevor’s neck, and this time he’s sure when he hears the little sound slip from the engineer, muffled by his own tongue. It is going to drive Philip insane. Trevor is going to drive him insane. He already is. 

“Philip,” Trevor says again, and Philip really can’t help but push closer. The edge of the filing cabinet is hard against his thighs, the metal cold through his jeans and somehow that is what brings Philip’s spiralling, out of control, too-much-too-fast brain back to the present. And then it clicks, and a stone sinks deep in his stomach. Trevor is distracting him, taking his mind off a truly terrible day because Philip did something stupid last night and Trevor found him this morning. He breaks away, breathing hard for an entirely different reason now. 

Trevor’s hands stop him from going far, his eyebrows furrowing into that familiar concerned frown. “You alright?” 

“I…” Philip stops, takes a breath, swallows. Yes, he’s alright. He’s more than alright with Trevor kissing him, with kissing Trevor. But here and now… Philip isn’t sure how to voice that. He knows Trevor wouldn’t judge him, not after Jenny. Trevor isn’t someone from the 21st, where sex is currency and intimacy is a completely separate thing. Trevor, like most from their time, knows that there’s more to it than that, he knows about Jenny because Philip has told him about Jenny and that whole mess and he trusts Trevor not to ignore all that. But…

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Trevor says, and Philip unfreezes. “I didn’t think it through. I know it’s been rough, and I don’t wanna rush you or—” 

“Are you trying to distract me?” 

Trevor stops, his frown deepens and he shakes his head. “Not really. Maybe a little.” He sighs. “I mean, I didn’t kiss you to distract you. But if I am… is that a bad thing?” He takes a deep breath, his fingers curling on Philip’s hip. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“I don’t…” He isn’t sure what he’s supposed to make of that. It’s not what he wants to hear, but it's not what he doesn’t want to hear either. Truth be told, he doesn’t even know what that is. All he knows is that Trevor means more than 21st century sex and he is in way too deep here. 

Philip does not consider himself brave. He knows people in the future who would say he is just for being here now, but the truth is, they don’t know what they’re talking about. He is not brave, he simply exists. He is a piece in a machine and there is nothing brave about that. But this is different. This is Trevor, and Trevor has always made Philip feel like more than that. Like he’s a person, and more importantly, like that person is worth something. And no, Philip doesn’t want Trevor to stop. He would be happy to live in this moment forever, and that’s the problem. Philip swallows. He will be brave. 

“I don’t want you to be a distraction.” 

Trevor draws back, a tiny wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. “What do you want me to be?”

Philip almost curses, swallows again, looks at his hands. “I want you to be you. You… You mean something to me, Trevor. I want this to mean something.” 

Philip isn’t brave enough to look back at Trevor, but he doesn’t have to be. The other guy’s hand is on his cheek, tilting his face back towards his, and when their eyes meet all Philip can see is the familiar warmth and understanding and joy that Trevor somehow carries within himself no matter what. “It does,” Trevor whispers, and kisses Philip again. 

This kiss tastes different. It has to, Philip supposes as Trevor inches forward on his perch, gripping his shoulders, his arms, his waist, his hips. Trevor really does mean something to Philip, more than he ever would have guessed he could. It’s not because of the visions, and it’s not because Trevor is kissing him now. It’s everything else. It’s Trevor bringing Philip a fastfood meal after he’d been shot. It’s the wordless hands on his shoulders when he’s the first to arrive at the garage and the last to leave. It’s the undiluted wonder and awe in his face when he looks outside. It’s the insistence that he’ll come with Philip, even if it’s because he doesn’t fully trust him — because whatever the reason, Philip likes that he doesn’t feel alone. The reminders that Philip is human, just as human as Trevor, because sometimes that is the hardest thing to remember. 

And Philip really does feel like shit for this morning. For last night, when he’d seen the mission come through and he’d sat there, frozen, and debated calling out Trevor’s name just to see another face and hear his voice, feel another person touch him and remember. But he hadn’t been brave last night. He’d run, and had left Trevor to find and clean up the mess he’d made. He feels his chest tearing apart, ripping violently right down the middle. 

“I’m sorry,” he gasps, tearing himself away from Trevor’s mouth. 

“What for?” Trevor frowns. 

Philip swallows. “Last night. This morning. All of… that.” 

The understanding is so clear in Trevor’s eyes, followed quickly by sadness that hits Philip like a punch. It resolves and shifts, and Trevor’s lips twitch into something that could be called a smile. “You scared me,” he says. 

“I know. I didn’t mean to.” An eyebrow raise at this, and Philip goes on, “I wasn’t trying to. I just… I don’t even know. I was going to tell you when it first came through but I just… I just couldn’t. You know?” 

Trevor nods, and Philip knows he means it. This is the guy who interrupted Grace Day’s TELL, for God’s sake. He doesn’t blame Philip for Aleksander. Things might get murky and complicated sometimes, but at the end of the day Trevor understands when it matters. “I wish you had,” he tells him. There’s no blame or resentment in it, just a statement of fact. “We could have worked something out together.” 

Now it’s Philip’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Worked something out?” 

“Ok,” Trevor concedes, “maybe not work something out. But you didn’t have to be alone. You don’t have to be alone, Philip. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.” 

It’s so much. It’s too much, and Philip is too heavy for this. So he just nods, watches as Trevor slides off the filing cabinet and stands before him. Philip lets him put his hands on his face and can’t stop himself from leaning into the touch. It doesn’t matter how small it makes him feel. Doesn’t matter that Trevor’s breath hitches in his chest when Philip keeps going and kisses him again, doesn’t matter that he can’t even begin to express what’s swirling in his update-addled, over-full and under-nourished brain right now. They’ve got time. Philip can untangle it all later. 

He pulls Trevor closer, so close he wonders if he can feel the beating of his heart against his own. He can feel his breathing, the expansion and contraction of his lungs and the rush of air on his cheek, the heat of his body and oh, yeah, ok, Trevor’s hard. The thought of that alone has Philip aching, hips pressing into Trevor’s, their jeans hard and rough between them. Something just this side of a moan slips from Philip as Trevor presses back, his hands once more finding Philip’s hair and commanding him to kiss him harder, kiss him longer, kiss him deeper. Philip is only too happy to oblige.

Trevor hums into his mouth as Philip reaches between them, fingers skirting the hem of his shirt. Trevor gives him an insistent nudge and that’s all Philip needs to slide his hand under the fabric, run it over the hot skin of his hip and the planes of his stomach, bunching his shirt up like it’s nothing. Philip wants to map out every cell of Trevor’s body, commit every curve and dip and hollow to memory like he’s memorised every TELL and candidate and major event. He passes his hand over Trevor’s ribs, up the centre of his abdomen, higher to his sternum and back down again to grip his waist. Touching him isn’t enough. Philip needs this man. 

Trevor’s grip on his hair tightens momentarily when Philip’s lips move from his own to his jaw, down the column of his neck. These kisses are wet, open mouthed, not quite careless but hardly neat, and if he goes any harder he’s going to leave marks. He isn’t sure if that’s something Trevor wants, but the other man’s head is tilted to let Philip continue, so he sucks — oh so lightly — at the spot where neck and shoulder meet. 

“Fuck,” Trevor hisses, fingers curling, hips grinding against Philip’s. Philip can literally feel his brain emptying of all thought except that he needs to make Trevor do that again. 

“Hm?” he asks, just in case (just in case what? He doesn’t know), and Trevor nods. So Philip does the only rational thing and sucks again, moves his head and does it to another spot, and now that he can see the darker patches of skin on Trevor’s neck, he never wants to stop. 

“Philip,” Trevor whispers, voice cracking. His throat moves as he swallows, hard, and Philip pointedly grazes the spot with his teeth. He tastes like the cheap soap they keep in the bathroom, and even though it’s the same one Philip uses day in day out, on Trevor’s skin and up this close it is somehow more. It’s Trevor, and Philip isn’t sure he’s ever going to be able to casually use the stuff again without this moment flooding his overly accurate historian brain. As desperate and insane as he knows the thought is, even as he has it, Philip wants to lick every trace of that soap off Trevor. But his shirt is still bunched around his chest and Philip can only reach so much of his skin around it. 

“Off,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to see Trevor’s tongue dart over his lip, his eyes dark.

His voice is husky and raw when he speaks. “You too.” 

“Here?” The realisation that they’re still at the desk seems to strike Trevor the same moment that Philip fully processes it, eyes darting around the room. 

After a moment, Trevor shakes his head. “No,” he says, untangling himself from Philip enough to take his hand. “No, come on.”

Philip has never been led into his own bedroom. He’s never watched someone else’s hand pull at his, met someone else’s eyes over their shoulder, stumbled to keep up with someone else through his own door. Never been pulled onto his bed by someone else. He’s been pushed, which was exciting and fun and hot at the time, and he’s done the leading, and the looking back and the steadying at the inevitable stumble, but this is new. If Philip is completely honest, it’s a little unnerving. 

But then Trevor is facing him, reaching for his shirt and pulling it over his head and all Philip can think is holy shit because all that football pays off. Trevor’s mouth curves as he steps towards him, like he knows exactly what Philip is thinking. Which wouldn’t be that hard, since Philip isn’t exactly trying to keep a straight face. 

“You tryna catch flies, Philip?” Trevor asks him, and Philip feels his cheeks heat. He hadn’t even realised his mouth was open. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, eyes locked firmly on Trevor’s face. His smile. The collection of red marks dotting his neck. 

Trevor just shakes his head, stepping closer. “Don’t be.” His hands settle on the hem of Philip’s own shirt, his fingers barely brushing Philip’s skin. “But,” he goes on, “this isn’t fair.” 

“Oh, fair,” Philip echoes, raising his eyebrows. But he’s already taking over from Trevor, shrugging off the shirt and dropping it like it’s nothing (and it isn’t really, not when he has Trevor standing before him like this). “Better?” he asks. 

Trevor looks away from his face, and Philip can almost physically feel his eyes sliding over his torso, stopping at his chest, lifting back to his face and gleaming with something that he can only describe as incredulous excitement. “What’s that?” he asks, as if he doesn’t know. 

“Piercing.” Because that’s what Trevor’s looking at, and if Philip’s completely honest, he feels a little… proud? He’d had his doubts when he’d first discovered the ring through his nipple, and had been more confused by it than he had by the ear and nose piercings. He can understand jewellery where people are going to see it. He’d done his research on piercings and tattoos outside of the training on 21st century behaviour they’d all taken, at the same time as he’d taken a deep dive into tattoo symbolism (he’d been suddenly consumed by the fear that his host’s tattoos meant something he should know about, which hadn’t really been the case but Philip still thought that it was better to know than not). He hadn’t found much to convince him that the solitary ring through his nipple of all places was a particularly groundbreaking way to modify the body, but now… Now he thinks he might get it. 

Trevor is shaking his head, eyes still glued to the little piece of metal. “That’s so…” 

“Weird?” 

“No, it’s—” He stops, laughs, grins at Philip. “It’s really hot.” 

Philip can feel his eyebrows shooting up his face. “You think?” 

“Yeah, I… I don’t know why.” 

“Oh, ok.” That’s… unexpected. Philip knows that his host isn’t bad to look at, and he knows that some of the reasoning behind piercings is for attractiveness. He’s studied the face that he now calls his in the mirror a thousand times, he sees the body that he now inhabits every day and as far as 21st century guys in their late twenties go, it’s really not bad. Of course, there are the track marks and the occasional (lately more frequent) shadows under his eyes, stubble if it’s been a particularly rough few days (Trevor’s newly almost-permanent presence helps with that, even if he doesn’t know it), but hey, if Trevor’s standing here right now he knows he’s got something going for him. But the look in the engineer’s eyes when they meet Philip’s again makes him feel like a damn artwork. 

Trevor’s grin broadens, and before Philip can even begin to reconcile what that’s doing to him Trevor’s lips are on his once more and he’s being pulled hard against him, skin to skin, heart to heart, Trevor’s hands roaming over his shoulders and his back and his waist and his ribs and his chest and Philip is moaning into the kiss like… he doesn’t even know what. 

They’re moving, almost tripping over each other and it’s a miracle either of them can keep their balance, but then Trevor’s knees hit the edge of the bed and they’re half falling onto it, a little uncoordinated but does that really matter when Trevor is still pulling Philip close, smiling even as his tongue dances alongside Philip’s? He’s all too aware of where his body is, where his leg presses between Trevor’s and his arm is locked, holding his weight off the other man. 

Trevor, however, has both hands free. Gooseflesh prickles across Philip’s chest and stomach as he trails his hands over his body, electricity sparking when his fingers skirt the waistband of his pants. He feels Trevor smile again, and his breath hitches in his throat. Shit, he’s never going to be able to kiss anyone else again. He doesn’t even want to kiss anyone else. Ever. 

“Do you want this?” Trevor murmurs against his lips, the tips of his fingers just dipping below his waistband and oh fuck he hadn’t realised just how badly he wanted that. 

Philip nods, then groans when Trevor palms him because even through his pants his hand is a million times better than his own. The other guy curses, does it again, and Philip’s teeth dig into his bottom lip. His eyes are dark and sincere, flicking between Philip’s own and where his fingers are curling gently around his clothed cock. 

“Can I?” Trevor asks. Philip has never nodded faster. He’s not even entirely sure what Trevor’s getting at, but he’s happy to let him touch him however he wants, wherever he wants, and he trusts him completely. Of course he already knew that — you kind of have to trust your team, after all — but he’s only just realising that he’s trusted Trevor as more than a team member for quite some time. Probably right alongside everything else that’s become more than a team member with Trevor. 

Philip isn’t wasting time philosophising, his attention fixed firmly on Trevor’s hand which is back at his pants and oh that’s what he meant. He helps out, shoving his pants down and off with less grace than he’d like, underwear following suit. The air is cool on his hot skin, and for a moment he feels oddly exposed. Then Trevor is pushing at his hip, tongue darting over his lips again and there’s almost an urgency to his movements. 

“C’mon, just— Hold on a second—” he says, still attempting to manoeuvre Philip. 

He almost laughs at his eagerness. “Trev, give me a second, man. What’re you tryna do?” 

Trevor pauses, his thumb running in a tiny arc over Philip’s hip bone — he’s not sure if he’s even doing it consciously. “Swap.” He nods to the mattress, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is and Philip’s just lagging behind. 

“Oh, ok.” He shrugs, half climbing and half rolling sideways. “You could’ve just said that.” 

“Yeah, I know, I…” He sighs, rubs a hand over his forehead. “I keep getting caught up. Sorry.” 

Trevor getting caught up in him? In Philip? He doesn’t quite know how to respond to that, so he just shrugs again. “I’m that irresistible, huh?” 

The look Trevor shoots him is anything but joking. “You have no idea.” 

Philip opens his mouth, shuts it, shakes his head in awe. Who would have thought? “C’mere,” he tells Trevor softly, and the gravity is lifted as he smiles and practically bounces down beside him, pressing his lips to Philip’s. They’re getting better at this. Not that they were bad, of course, but they fall into the easy rhythm of each other much more quickly now. There’s no fumbling or searching or exploring, it’s familiar and Philip never wants that to end. 

Trevor’s hand is resting on Philip’s chest, warm and firm and now Philip is sure he can feel how hard his heart is beating. He stretches up, chasing Trevor as the other guy pulls away, but he can only do so much. Trevor smiles and gives him another quick kiss, almost chaste, the kind that Philip definitely doesn’t imagine he’d give him when their day to day paths cross in the garage. When he leaves to get food. When he comes back again. 

But that thought is wiped away before Philip’s mind can snag on it, because Trevor is spitting into his palm and wrapping his fingers around Philip’s dick, gentle and slick and warm and Philip curses softly. It’s almost almost perfect. 

“Like this?” Trevor asks, eyes fixed on his face. 

Philip swallows. His voice sounds odd even to his own ears, husky and strangled. “Uh, little harder.” 

Trevor squeezes, and it’s all Philip can do not to fall apart right there as his grip tightens and his hand moves. “This?” 

He feels the breath catch in his throat. “Yeah. Fuck Trev, that’s perfect.” And it is. It really is. There’s only so much his mind can come up with, he thinks as he takes in Trevor’s strong arm and large hand moving rhythmically over him, feels the heat of his body where it presses against his own and listens to Trevor’s breathing and soft hum of appreciation in response to his own moan. No matter what the update lets him see, no matter what he manages to dream up by himself, it won’t compare to this. 

Trevor is leaning closer, and Philip shivers as his breath hushes over the skin of his shoulder, his neck, then practically gasps as Trevor kisses the hollow under his jaw. He makes to turn his head, meet the other guy half way, but Trevor doesn’t let him. He kisses his jaw again, nudging him away and Philip just lets him. He even turns his face, just a little, but Trevor notices and his chuckle sends molten heat shooting straight down his spine. Trevor’s lips are moving, up over the muscle of his neck, tongue darting out to taste his skin. Philip gets it now, and then Trevor is whispering “this ok?” and he’s nodding (how could it not be?). 

“Fuck,” he breathes as Trevor sucks at the spot, and Philip really gets it. It’s not like hickeys are foreign to him, but this is something else altogether. Trevor’s hand is still moving firmly on his cock, maybe a little slower than he himself would go but damn is it good, and now he’s working his way down Philip’s neck to his chest. The tiny burst of almost-pain followed by the soft heat of Trevor’s tongue has Philip arching towards him, hips jutting shamelessly into his hand as he does his best to stop the embarrassingly desperate sounds he’s on the verge of making from escaping him. 

“Philip,” Trevor murmurs to his clavicle. 

“Hm?” Philip answers, lifting his head enough to meet his gaze. He half wishes he didn’t, another blazing hot spark of pure need rushing through him.

Trevor either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. He presses his lips to Philip’s skin yet again, gentle and oddly tender given that he’s still jerking him off, looking at him through his lashes (Philip wonders if he’s doing that deliberately. If he knows what it’s doing to him). “You don’t have to be quiet,” he says softly, and there’s another kiss. Lower this time, on his pectoral.

“I’m— I’m not—” Philip breaks off in a rush of air when he feels Trevor’s teeth graze his skin. 

“Not what?” 

Philip doesn’t even know what he’d been getting at, but it sure isn’t important. “Doesn’t matter,” he breathes. 

“You sure?” 

“Mhm.” Then, as Trevor’s thumb slides over the sensitive head of his cock, “Fucking hell, Trev.” 

“Is that—” 

“Yes. Yes, oh my— Fuck—” 

Trevor’s mouth has found his nipple. Maybe it’s a little weird, but Philip is hardly in any condition to be thinkin about that. Trevor’s tongue is flicking over the ring cautiously, gently, and it feels really good. Better than it has any right to.

“Ok?” Trevor asks, kissing the sensitive spot. 

“Yeah.” Philip swallows, bites down on a moan and then remembers Trevor’s words. You don’t have to be quiet. 

This time, when Trevor’s hand tightens and moves over his aching cock, he groans, and feels Trevor’s body shudder against his. Philip brings his hand up to run across Trevor’s strong shoulders, down over his spine and back up again. He hums, and his hand speeds up every so slightly. 

“Oh fuck,” Philip moans, “fuck, Trev, keep doing that.” 

“Yeah, don’t worry.” Trevor’s voice is low and rough, his chuckle little more than a breath of air. “I’m not… I’m not stopping.” The engineer raises his head, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he studies Philip’s face like he’s trying to memorise it. Philip is torn between holding his gaze and looking away, heat coiling low inside him, and again he jerks in Trevor’s hand. Trevor laughs again, moving hard and fast and if he keeps that up Philip isn’t sure he’ll last another minute. 

“Trev,” he gasps, gripping his shoulder hard enough that he almost feels bad. “Fuck, fuck.” Yeah. Philip’s really articulate when he chooses to be. He wants Trevor inside him, wants to be inside Trevor. He doesn’t care where, exactly, he just knows that he needs to be closer, deeper, needs to feel their bodies blur into one, but right now he isn’t spending particularly long dissecting that thought. He’s got time. 

“‘Salright,” Trevor murmurs, as if he knows exactly what Philip’s thinking. “I got you, man.” 

Philip feels himself tremble and tip, bliss rolling up through his spine. He might be saying Trevor’s name, might be cursing, or the sounds might be just that; wordless and primal and torn from deep within him. Trevor works him through the high, and as the electricity coursing through Philip cools to static, his hand slows and finally withdraws to rest on his stomach. They don’t speak for a moment, their breathing and the ticking of the clock the only sounds in the room. Philip doesn’t look down, he knows his stomach is a mess, and chooses instead to turn towards Trevor. 

The engineer grins, then drops his eyes pointedly to Philip’s stomach. He feels his cheeks heat, but before he can say or do anything Trevor is bending and sliding down the mattress and Philip thinks he knows what he’s about to do but he doesn’t know what he thinks about what Trevor is about to do. Then his tongue is flicking over Philip’s abdomen and his skin is twitching, a small sound that’s half shock and half pleasure catching in his throat. Problem solved, he supposes. 

“Alright?” Trevor asks as he withdraws. 

Philip just nods, pushing himself to sit up. Trevor smiles and leans closer, his lips soft and gentle against Philip’s. This kiss is almost chaste, reassurance and a kind of confirmation (of what, Philip isn’t sure) all at once. He’s only too happy to reciprocate, his body pleasantly warm and heavy and buzzing with Trevor, Trevor, Trevor, whose chest is pressing against his own. 

Philip pulls him closer, hands sliding over the smooth muscle of his arms and shoulders, cupping the back of his neck as he slips his tongue into Trevor’s mouth. He can taste himself on the other guy’s tongue, a thought that has his brain spinning excitedly out of control and his stomach launching into an olympic level acrobatics routine. Does Trevor like the warm saltiness still clinging to his tongue? Is that what Trevor would taste like? God, Philip wants to find that out. 

Gently, he shifts and nudges at Trevor’s shoulder until he gets the message (faster than Philip had earlier) and lets him push him onto the mattress. His legs fall apart easily when Philip pushes his own between them, and when he moves and his thigh comes into contact with Trevor’s crotch he practically arches off the bed. Philip stifles a laugh. 

“Something funny?” Trevor asks, eyebrow raised when he ceases his assault on his mouth to look at him. But he’s smiling. Flushed, eyes dark and shining, lips swollen and pink and still parted as he breathes hard, but smiling. Philip can feel his brain going into overdrive to store that image perfectly. 

“No,” Philip shrugs, letting his eyes trail lower over Trevor’s torso (the guy has actual abs, which Philip is going to be thinking about for a long time). 

“No? What’s that look for?” 

He debates it for a moment, then, “I’m memorising.” 

Trevor frowns. “Memorising what?” 

Philip presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “You.” He pushes his leg firmly in between Trevor’s, basking in the breathy little moan it draws from him, “That.” 

“Fuck, Philip,” he whispers as Philip moves his hand down his side to his hip, across the faint V under his belly button to skirt the waistband of his pants (why the fuck is he still wearing pants?). Philip isn’t even sure if he means to do it, but Trevor’s grinding against his leg and looking up at him like he’s the only thing he’s ever wanted. He thinks he might just cum again, right here right now. 

“Can I?” he asks, already dipping his fingers below the line of fabric. 

“Yeah, yeah sure.” Trevor seems almost surprised by the suggestion, as if it’s the last thing he expected. 

Philip pauses, frowns. “You sure?” 

This time, Trevor’s voice is firmer. “I’m sure, Philip.” 

Philip nods, breath hitching in his throat. Trevor’s eyes are fixed on his hands, but he can’t look away from the engineer’s face. He gets Trevor’s pants undone, pulls them down, finally tears his gaze from Trevor’s flushed cheeks and wide eyes and parted lips and— 

“Jesus, Trev.” There’s a sizeable wet spot on Trevor’s underpants, the outline of his cock clear and hard and fuck, the dude is big. Philip’s mouth waters.

Trevor doesn’t seem to know what to say to that (which is doing things for Philip that he doesn’t want to even begin to address), but it doesn’t matter. Philip eases his underwear off, and, softly and with plenty of opportunity for Trevor to stop him, wraps his fingers around his length. 

“This ok?” he asks, watching Trevor’s face carefully. 

“Yeah—” Trevor’s voice cracks, and he tries again. “Yeah, that’s… that’s good.” 

“This?” Philip moves his hand, ignoring the little thrill that goes through him as his fingers come into contact with the moisture already gathered on Trevor’s tip. 

“Yeah.” 

“How about this?” Philip squeezes, watching Trevor’s teeth sink into his bottom lip and his head fall back as he whispers something that sounds like a “yes”, and holy shit has he got a jawline. He’d almost be jealous if he wasn’t so caught up admiring Trevor like this. If he wasn’t so far gone on him. If he wasn’t busy sliding down Trevor’s body, his face now level with his hand. 

“This?” 

“F—fuck,” Trevor gasps as Philip licks the tip of his dick, head whipping up to stare at him. 

He pauses, waiting. “Ok?” 

“Yeah, yeah that’s… that’s fine.” Trevor’s throat moves as he swallows. “You don’t have to, though.” 

“I want to,” he shrugs. “Do you want me to?” 

Trevor nods fast enough that in any other situation it would be comical, and Philip can’t help but smile. He bends, places a soft kiss at the junction of Trevor’s hip, then licks him again. 

Trevor moans, his hand drifting up to wind through Philip’s hair. 

Philip just smiles and flicks his tongue over the sensitive slit. 

“Stop teasing,” Trevor whispers. 

“I’m not.” 

“You are,” he protests. “It’s not fair.” 

“Fine,” Philip shrugs, and before Trevor can say anything else he’s opening his mouth, relaxing his tongue and taking Trevor as deep as he can. 

“Oh fuck,” he says, his fingers tightening momentarily in Philip’s hair. “Oh, you— Jesus.” 

The room could collapse right now and Philip wouldn’t notice. His senses are narrowed and focussed to the hot weight of Trevor’s cock in his mouth, the smell of his sweat and skin and his own spit (not pleasant, not exactly, but addictive nonetheless), his half stifled moan and the faint saltiness of precum. His hand works what doesn’t fit in his mouth, slow and firm and sliding easily with his makeshift spit-lube. His tongue swirls around Trevor’s cock, mapping every curve and ridge and vein. 

Philip raises his eyes as he hollows his cheeks and sucks, relishing the almost-whine that slips from Trevor. Again, he sees the engineer as he had been on the couch — chest heaving, gleaming with a light sheen of sweat, head tipped back and eyes closed. But this is better, because this Trevor — his Trevor — is already looking down at him, biting his lip, the unfairly defined muscles of his stomach tense and moving in time with his rapid breathing. A groan reverberates through his chest, and it’s all Philip can do not to smile. 

“Wish you could see yourself,” Trevor whispers, the hand that isn’t tangled in Philip’s hair twisting the sheets. 

In lieu of speech, he raises an eyebrow. 

“You’re a fucking wet dream, Philip,” he pants, and that is not what he expected to hear. It catches him off guard enough that he falters, his own surprised half moan making Trevor’s hips stutter up against his hand. His mouth. 

“Shit, sorry,” he says quickly, but Philip is shaking his head. Don’t worry. It’s ok. He gives what he thinks is a reassuring suck, his free hand settling on Trevor’s hip — as if he’d be able to do anything if he decided to face fuck him. As if he’d want to. 

Trevor curses again, softly, his eyes not leaving Philip’s face. He’s trying to be gentle, Philip can tell, and he feels something inside him melt because of course he would. Even as he whispers “fuck” like that and moans like that he’s still trying not to hurt him — as if he ever could. Philip doesn’t even know if he’d really care at this point. 

“Hm?” He doesn’t stop, moisture pricking behind his eyes as he relaxes his throat even further and practically swallows Trevor’s dick. His hand is sliding so easily now, slick and a bit messy and maybe it should be gross but nothing is gross with Trevor, who was licking Philip’s cum off his stomach just before and has seen him at his worst and has clasped his shoulder and pushed him through. He moves faster, a little harder, and Trevor’s hips buck up again. Before he can apologise, Philip’s thumb moves in a tiny arc over his hip. He hopes Trevor understands. 

“Fuck, fuck, yes,” he gasps. “Please, Philip, I—” 

He can’t stop himself from moaning, an embarrassingly desperate sound. He could listen to Trevor forever, feel him like this forever, replay the movement of his body and the rough crack of his voice and the delicious tension of his fingers still gripping his hair until the Earth stops spinning. He wants to, future be damned. It’s a feedback loop, Trevor’s body jolting towards him as he tips his head back, Philip’s own need surging hot inside him, and he’s gripping Trevor tighter and taking him deeper, revelling in Trevor’s moans and gasps. 

“Hold on,” he says suddenly, and Philip freezes.

“You alright?” he asks, withdrawing with a wet “pop,” his hand still resting on Trevor’s hip. 

He nods quickly, his hand slipping from Philip’s hair to rest against his jaw. “Yeah, I’m fine. Better than fine.” 

“Ok,” he frowns, “then what’s…?” 

“Do you…” He pauses, thinks, swallows. Tries again. “Do you want to go… further?” 

Philip feels his heartbeat quicken, mind racing with the possibilities. He’s never taken that particular step, but if he wants to with anyone, it’s Trevor. And hell yes he wants to, wants to go as far as is humanly possible and never come back. He’s seen so many variations of further now, he can’t pick what this could possibly be, and not knowing is oddly thrilling. 

“We don’t have to,” Trevor is adding hastily, his hand sliding down to clasp Philip’s shoulder. “It’s ok if you don’t—” 

“I do,” Philip interrupts. “I really, really do, Trev.” 

Trevor nods, shuffles backwards before pushing himself to his knees. Philip follows suit, steadying himself against Trevor’s shoulder. His hair is falling into his face now that Trevor’s not holding it back, and he half wishes he had an elastic band with him. Even if Trevor seems to like putting his hands in it. 

“It’s hot when you do that,” the engineer says as Philip pushes his hair out of his face. 

He arches an eyebrow. “I think you’re biassed.” 

“Maybe a little,” he shrugs, “but I’m not wrong.” 

Philip really needs to learn how to respond to this kind of thing, because at some point simply kissing Trevor isn’t going to be sufficient. But it’s working for now, so he’s got time. Trevor hums softly when he pushes closer, his skin hot in all the places it’s touching Philip’s. Philip cups Trevor’s neck gently but firmly, his tongue sliding easily between Trevor’s parted lips and he wonders if Trevor can still taste himself in Philip’s mouth the way Philip can. He shifts, electric heat surging through him when he feels Trevor’s hardness press against his hip, blood rushing downwards in sympathy. 

Trevor moans, grinding lightly against Philip, the kisses rapidly descending into something too messy to be called a kiss at all by any stringent definition. It’s more like Philip licking into Trevor’s mouth, Trevor licking into his, a whirl of tongues and teeth and lips that somehow has Philip moaning too, striving to get closer to Trevor in any way he can. He knows exactly what he wants now, and, as if Trevor is reading his mind, his hand is sliding down his side and around his hip to rest on his ass. 

“Is—?” 

“Mhm.” Philip gasps as Trevor squeezes, just gently, but God he wants his hands everywhere. If Trevor touches every inch of his skin, he thinks, it still won’t be enough. But damn, this is a good start. 

“Turn around,” Trevor murmurs against his lips, drawing back enough to make eye contact with Philip. 

He doesn’t waste time, as much as it pains him to break away, but when Trevor’s voice is that low, that husky, that raw with want, it’s worth it. Trevor’s hand doesn’t leave his hip, half guiding him as he faces the headboard. 

“Holy shit,” Trevor says, and Philip glances over his shoulder to see the other guy’s eyes locked on the tattoo sprawling across his shoulder blades. “I didn’t know there was more.” 

“Uh, yeah,” he laughs. “Neither did I at first.” He shivers as Trevor runs his hand across the inked skin, tracing the points and whorls of the design. He’d actually forgotten about it, as he does most of the time (until he has to do a double take when he catches sight of it in the mirror), but something about the awe and fascination tingeing Trevor’s expression makes him think that that’s not going to be a problem in the future. 

“Fucking hot,” he proclaims, bending to kiss right between Philip’s shoulder blades. He does it again at Philip’s sigh, then again, then lower. He traces the line of his spine with kisses, fingers curling over his hip, and Philip’s not sure who it is who moves close enough that Trevor’s erection presses against him. Either way, it doesn’t matter because Philip is definitely the one who pushes further back against him, and Trevor is the one who pulls him to do it again. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, because now that he’s feeling the hot hardness and the size of him against his ass, Philip isn’t sure if the spit still coating Trevor’s dick — copious though it may be — will actually be enough. 

“You alright?” Trevor asks. 

“Yeah.” 

“Philip.” Trevor rubs his shoulder, gentle but insistent. “Why’re you so tense?” 

Philip sighs, rolls his shoulders, forces them to relax. This is Trevor, who is not going to hurt him, and who he trusts with his life. More than his life. “I’m fine,” he says, “I just… haven’t done this bit before. And you’re kinda big.” 

Trevor chuckles at that, shuffling around so he can see Philip’s face. “That’s ok,” he assures him. “We don’t have to—” 

“I want to.” 

“Then I’ll go slow.” 

That… is actually really reassuring. The tension leaks from Philip, and he offers Trevor a smile. “Ok. Thanks.” 

“You’ll tell me if you wanna stop, yeah?” 

Philip just nods, then Trevor is moving again and he has to twist over his shoulder to catch his smile. He leans into Trevor’s touch as the engineer’s hand skims his arm, his shoulder, his back, up his side and down again to his ass. They move together, slowly and carefully, and Philip feels the last vestiges of his nervousness slide away. 

“Can I?” Trevor asks, fingers slipping lower. His voice is soft, but Philip doesn’t miss the way his breath catches when he nods. Trevor’s fingers are wet with spit, and when he pushes one inside Philip there's only a little resistance. “Ok?” 

Philip nods. It’s an odd sensation, and he isn’t entirely sure if he likes it yet, but he trusts Trevor. He makes himself relax, focusses on Trevor’s free hand where it rests on his hip because he knows he likes that, and lets him move. He doesn’t mind it, he decides, especially when Trevor bends and kisses his shoulder. There’s a bit of pressure, a slight burn and stretch, and now there are two fingers inside him. 

“Ok?” Trevor asks again, and again Philip nods. He’s starting to think that he might like this, and Trevor’s still going slow but now his fingers are curled and yeah, Philip likes this. 

“Yeah,” he says. “That’s good.” 

“You sure?” Trevor whispers against his skin, and this time when he pushes into Philip it really is good.

“Mhm,” he breathes, teeth digging into his bottom lip. Almost involuntarily he rocks his hips back onto Trevor’s hand, and feels the other guy smile. 

“Alright.” He continues for a moment, and Philip’s more than happy with that, but then when his fingers withdraw they go all the way and Philip actually misses the feeling. Misses Trevor inside him, even if it’s just his fingers. He hears Trevor spit, another sound he’s all too familiar with, then something bigger than a finger is poking him and his heart skips a beat. 

“Ready?” Trevor asks. 

Philip swallows and nods for what feels like the millionth time today. “Yeah.” 

Trevor pauses. “Ok, bend over a bit? And maybe…” He pauses, then, “Do you wanna, uh, hold onto something?” 

That’s probably not intended to turn Philip on this much, but it does. He does as Trevor says and leans forward, bracing his hands on the wall, spreading his legs when he feels the pressure of Trevor’s hand between his thighs. “Like this?” he asks. 

Trevor’s voice is husky when he answers. “Yeah, perfect.” Then he’s pushing gently into Philip, who presses his lips together because Trevor feels bigger than he looks. It’s not really painful, and he’s going slow, and the spit lube helps, but it’s still more than his fingers and Philip can’t help the way his breath catches in his throat. 

“I’m alright,” he assures Trevor before he can ask. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, just… gimme a second.” 

“Tell me when.” 

Half of Philip wants to turn around and kiss Trevor for that, the other half wants to shove himself backwards and just take it from there. But he’s got enough of his brain left in his head to know that that would be a terrible idea, so he breathes deeply and waits until the faint burn fades and all that’s left is the pleasant stretch and fullness. “Ok,” he says after a moment, “you can, uh, keep going.” 

He half expects Trevor to do just that and push deeper, but instead he feels him pull out. He spits again, and this time the slide is easier, softer, further. Trevor curses softly, does it again, and now they have a rhythm. It’s slow and measured, careful, and Philip finds that it’s easy to relax into the movement of their bodies, to let Trevor rock into him and just brace against the wall — which is not even bracing anymore, more like stabilising. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” Trevor murmurs, the words sending Philip’s mind spinning. 

“So do you,” he replies and revels in the tightening of Trevor’s hand on his hip. This time, when Trevor thrusts into him, he does push back and meets him halfway, something between a gasp and groan falling from his lips. 

“Alright?” Trevor slows just a little, concern clear in his voice. 

Philip thinks he might melt on the spot, but instead he smiles. “I’m fine, Trev. you don’t have to be so… careful.” 

“You sure? Cause I don’t mind. I said I'd go slow.” 

“Well…” Philip pauses, glances over his shoulder. “Can you go a bit harder?”

“Yeah,” Trevor answers, and maybe it’s Philip’s imagination but he sounds a bit breathless. “Sure. Tell me what feels good.” 

Then he’s moving again, pushing deeper than before, and Philip is telling him that that feels good and Trevor is doing it again. It’s not much faster, but it’s somehow more, and Trevor’s gripping his hip damn hard now. Philip hopes he’ll have bruises. 

“Fuck, Trev,” he moans, arching into it, dimly aware of the bedframe squeaking faintly. “Fuck, that’s— that’s fucking great.” 

“Yeah? Not too — ah — fast?” 

“No,” Philip assures him. Then, “Faster?” 

“Shit, ok.” Trevor speeds up, and now he’s hitting something deep inside Philip that has him stumbling over Trevor’s name and pulsing with need. Before he can do anything about that Trevor’s strong arm is sliding around his torso, pulling him back against his chest and his hand is wrapping around Philip’s dick for the second time today as he continues to rearrange his guts. Philip knows he isn’t going to last long. 

“Fucking hell, Trev,” he gasps, because that’s really all he can do. He’s surrounded by Trevor, the engineer’s mouth warm and wet on the skin of his shoulder, his hand firm — just how Philip likes it — around his cock, Trevor’s own cock stroking what feels like every inch of his insides, his warm chest damp with sweat and pressed to Philip’s back. If he died right now he’d go out with a smile on his face, because he’s pretty sure it doesn’t get better than this. 

“Oh God,” Trevor groans. “You feel like fucking Heaven, you know that? You’re Heaven.” 

Philip didn’t know that, but he probably could have guessed from the desperation of Trevor’s combined fist and hips. He feels the words against his shoulder, feels Trevor’s warm breath stirring his hair and it must be all that damned football because he hasn’t faltered once. Philip can’t wait to make him. “You’re talking,” he manages, but any impact it might have had is lost in the unsteadiness of his voice. Maybe he’s still sensitive from his earlier orgasm, maybe it’s just that this is so much more intense, but he can already feel the tight coil of pleasure building low inside him. 

“Yeah, I’m — fuck, Philip — I’m talking.” He gives a particularly hard thrust, and it’s all Philip can do not to collapse right then and there. Trevor is going to be the death of him, and he’s going to say thank you when it happens. 

“Don’t stop,” he pleads — fucking pleads. “Shit, Trev, don’t stop.” 

“‘M not,” Trevor pants. “Don’t worry, I’m not fucking stopping.” And he isn’t. If anything, he’s going harder. “I’m— shit, fuck, fuck, Philip I’m gonna— Philip, where do I—?” 

Oh, is all Philip can think. “In me,” he blurts, because protocol 4 isn’t going to be a problem and this is the 21st century. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure. Fuck, Trevor I’m so— I’m gonna—” 

Trevor is groaning deeply, spilling hot and thick inside Philip and with that, white hot bliss explodes through his body. He’s dimly aware of Trevor’s chest heaving against his back, his own name being chanted like a prayer, an incantation, and Philip’s never loved the sound of it more than he does right now. Right now it really is his name, and he knows he’s never coming back from this, and that he doesn’t want to. He thinks he says Trevor’s, too, over and over and punctuated with curses, but how is he supposed to do anything else when it feels like this? 

Trevor’s movements slow eventually until they stop altogether, the only sound in the room their ragged breathing and the rustle of the sheets and Trevor pulls out and flops onto the mattress. Philip mourns the loss of the feeling of fullness for a moment as he adjusts to the sudden emptiness, forcing his arms to unlock and relax, his legs to shift — he hadn’t realised they were shaking, but now that he has he can’t stop it — and collapses next to Trevor. 

“God, Philip,” he whispers to the ceiling, then raises his head and smiles. 

“You alright?” Philip asks. Idly, he traces a circle over Trevor’s heart. 

“I am so alright,” he sighs, breathes a laugh, turns to lie on his stomach and looks at Philip over the muscle of his arm. “You?” 

Philip smiles too, his whole body heavy and satisfied. “So alright,” he echoes softly, and if he wasn’t so completely boneless he’d lean over, press his lips to Trevor’s, soft and careful. Instead, he stretches out alongside Trevor. He can feel his cum leaking out of him, and the rational part of his brain says that’s gross and he should clean it up — along with the mess on his stomach. The irrational part of his brain that had his heart speeding up when he watched Trevor lick him clean earlier says it’s hot. Either way, Philip is not getting out of this bed any time soon. 

“What?” 

He blinks, jerks out of his thoughts. Trevor is frowning, still turned towards him and close enough that when Philip extends his pinkie finger it meets warm skin. “Nothing,” he says. Then, because he’s not brave enough to say what he really means, “Do you wanna stay?” 

The wrinkle disappears from between Trevor’s brows and he pretends to think. “Do I wanna get up, get dressed, walk up the loft stairs and try to go to sleep by myself while I know you’re down here?” He scoffs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and maybe to him it is. But he still asks, “Do you want me to?” 

“I just want you,” Philip breathes. It doesn’t quite sound right and he’s not even sure if it’s really what he wants to say, but it’s close enough.

“You just had me.” 

“No,” he sighs, “I mean this. I want this.”

“Oh.” Trevor’s face softens. “Right. Well, you’ve got it, Philip.” Slowly, he wriggles his hand close enough to lace his fingers with Philip’s and pulls their hands towards himself, lips brushing his knuckles. Philip thinks his heart is going to burst, and since when is he such a sap? Must be something about Trevor that makes his brain fly out the window. 

He slips his hand from Trevor’s to run it down the curve of his spine like he’d wished he could this morning, mapping every vertebrae as if the world is depending on it. And maybe his is. He watches the smooth motion of muscle and bone and ligaments and skin as Trevor shifts infinitesimally closer, mesmerised by the simultaneous complexity and simplicity of the movement. The dying light cascades over Trevor’s back and neck, glancing off his hair, pooling on his cheek, catching on his eyelashes as he blinks and suddenly he understands artists. 

Philip has always appreciated art in a practical sense (if there is one), as a historian, admired the richness and depth of the maker’s mark on the world, their cry to be seen and remembered. But in that moment Philip understands the need to capture and render, share, immortalise. For the first time, he doesn’t know if his memory is enough to hold Trevor as he is now, smiling softly and extending his arm, his own hand sliding over Philip's torso. He blinks and the feeling fades enough that he can move to accommodate the engineer as he shuffles across the space between them and drapes his body over Philip’s, lips pressing oh so gently to his pulse point before he lays his head over his heart. Philip knows he’ll never be able to capture this, and for a moment he wonders if how much is lost is equal to how much is preserved. If it’s greater. If it’s less. He swallows, turns and kisses Trevor’s temple, decides it doesn’t matter. He has this now, and he is determined to take it for all that it’s worth. 

“Memorising?” 

“What?” 

Trevor shrugs, shifting closer still. “Are you memorising me again?” 

Philip can’t begin to explain, but Trevor’s on the right track so just smiles and says, “yeah,” sliding his arm around his shoulders and holding him close. 

“Me too.” The engineer's body jerks with a soft chuckle, but he presses against Philip anyway, his breathing deep and even and his arm heavy across Philip’s chest. Then, “Can’t believe you’ve just been walking around with this.”

Philip cranes his neck, looking down at where Trevor is staring at his chest. Or rather, his piercing. He almost laughs because of course that’s what Trevor’s stuck on. 

“Doing missions with a ring through your nipple,” he goes on. “I can’t believe I didn’t know.”

“That’d be a weird conversation,” he snorts. “‘Hey Trev, wanna see this random bit of metal through my fucking nipple?’” Because Philip is aware that it’s weird, and that’s part of the reason he hadn’t exactly shown it off. Not that he would have had any excuse to, or wanted to, but still. 

Trevor tsks. “Yeah, but… I don’t know. Does it hurt?” 

“Uh… no?” He thinks for a minute, frowns. “Sometimes, a little. Sometimes I forget it’s there and it gets stuck on stuff.” 

“Jesus. 21st century, man, I’m telling you.” 

“Yeah. I know.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Trevor’s lips are pressing against his chest and he’s whispering, “I still think it’s hot as fuck,” and Philip, despite himself, is smiling. Whatever he sees in other timelines, and whatever else happens, he’s glad he exists here and now. He’s glad he woke up, and he’s glad he’ll wake up tomorrow — and this time it won’t be to an illusion.

Note: guys I'll be real for a sec I have no idea if this is any good. It feels ok right up until butt stuff gets involved so maybe this is a sign that gay porn specifically isn't my calling and I should just stick to YN shit (which is so sad cause I wanna write destiel smut and I wanna write more about these two silly little dudes). I wrote this originally where Philip just sucked Trevor off and they called it a day but it just genuinely did not feel right and it would not leave me alone and it just kept playing out in my head (something) like this so I wrote it and I'm not feeling the itch anymore but what I am feeling is really unsure. Any feedback at all would be so so appreciated (I feel like that ant with the bindle)

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

More TF2 Headcanons because you guys loved the last one.

You guys better buckle up because I'm already thinking of a pt 3

Tw - Bigotry, alcoholism

Not specifically set in 2023, kinda a mix of being in the 60s and 2023. You'll get what I mean in certain headcanons.

————————————————————

All of them are animal people on some level.

Demo, Engie, and Heavy all love cats. I personally think Demo has a cat on base that he manages to hide from the others. He found it outside one night, it also had a fucked up eye. They love each other.

Sniper loves rabbits, I wonder why. He also loves Australian wildlife. He's a big fan of crocodiles but won't admit it because he hates the idea of being a stereotype.

Scout and Soilder love dogs.

Spy claims he doesn't like animals. He will call then "Filthy beasts." He's lying. He's a liar. He loves birds. sometimes, he just disappears for an hour or two, and the other mercs are super confused. He's hiding in Medic's room with his birds. He also likes Maine Coons.

Medic obviously loves birds. His doves are his pride and joy, but I think he actually likes all animals. He finds comfort in reptiles because he also sometimes feels like he lacks the ability to feel emotion. Archimedes is his favorite. Don't let him tell you he "doesn't play favorites." With his birds. He does.

Pyro has one of those bubble eyed goldfish. They named it firefly, and none of the other mercs know where they got it from. They love fish! They'd have a koi pond if they had room.

————————————————————

Demoman time because he's an underrated king! (TW: ALCOHOLISM)

I don't actually think Demo is plastered all the time. Sure, some nights, he'll get blackout drunk and seriously have no recollection of what he did the night before. I think most days, he's a functional alcoholic who's over exaggerating how drunk he is. He wants attention but doesn't know why or how to ask for it.

This. Man. Has. Emotional. Issues.

On a positive note! I agree with the headcannons saying he dyes his hair to look like a fire. He's also a really good cook when he's willing to step into the kitchen.

————————————————————

Engie has dentures, not because of age or anything. I just think he genuinely never had a family that was present or super caring. Honestly, I also think he's super protective of his teammates because they're family to him) No one ever really told him about how important taking care of his teeth was. Medic nearly fainted when he saw Engie's teeth. Also! He definitely made his own dentures.

————————————————————

(TW AGAIN FOR BIGOTRY (RACISM AND ANTISEMITISM SPECIFICALLY)

Demo and Medic have a shared bond in the fact that they've faced discrimination.

Demo pretends like he doesn't notice the discrimination, but that shit hurts him. Being in America during the tail end of segregation really fucked him up.

I've seen people headcannon Medic as Jewish, and I honestly agree, but it also adds another layer to the discrimination he faces.

I don't know if this is cannon or not, but I heard people saying he left Germany because of WW2. I definitely think this man has gone through the trauma of fleeing his home country to seek asylum in a less dangerous country. He has nightmares about this.

There's no way he didn't live in constant fear over being Jewish. I also definitely think for a while that he hated his German heritage because of what was happening in the world. Like this man full on wouldn't speak because he could only speak German or with a prominent accent, and he was so ashamed. After the war, though, he stopped having this internalized hatred.

Also, if you headcannon him as a Nazi. Go fuck yourself.

————————————————————

Spy time!

I genuinely think this man wants to be a good father to Scout, but he has no reference. I definitely think that Spy's dad walked out on him or didn't love him as a child. Also, with his job being what it is, he definitely gets scared when he feels an actual connection with someone.

He is way to fucking scared to tell Scout that he's his dad. He pretends that not telling Scout is just easier for everyone, but he's really scared that Scout will never look at him or talk to him again. He truly values Scouts opinions even if he doesn't make that know.

————————————————————

Oh, did someone ask for Medic headcannons again?? No? Well, he's my favorite girl, so....

He has gotten glitter in at least one mercs chest cavity. He literally glitterglued Heavy's ribs back together when he kept asking when his ribs would grow back.

This man is a menace at pride parades. He is the most flamboyant gay you've ever met. Let's be honest he's dressed up as FrankNFurter more than once.

He would bedazzled his gloves and boots for the Barbie movie.

————————————————————

That's all I have for now. Pt. 3 will come eventually bc I'm fully into the fandom now 😭

[prettyhighforawhiteguyblog]

Friends of ours lost their 22yo son to suicide recently. He was struggling, but kept the depth of it hidden. There are no words of comfort to give, only grieving alongside those who have lost one that they love.

A good friend pointed out that in the midst of this weeping, while it does not diminish the grief, perhaps something good might come out in that those who are similarly struggling with thoughts of suicide might get some perspective that their lives matter beyond the tiny world mental illness traps you in. Your life matters and is worth living.

Our brains are a precariously balanced mix of meat, electricity, and chemicals. Sometimes because of our experiences and/or biology our brains begin to lie to us. It withholds joy and pleasure. "It’s like trying to laugh at a joke that isn’t funny. Trying to smile for a photo you don’t want to be in. It’s like waking up in the morning and hating that you actually woke up. It feels like someone is just draining the energy out of you all the time, every moment you are awake." Doing anything requires immense willpower. Just plain old staying alive becomes a conscious choice made over and over again. You are just so tired and everything is just too much to deal with. The constant state of suffering leads one to try various ways to feel something positive, feel anything, or just escape the emptiness. It's why depressed people try so hard to bring joy to others and help others- they want to prevent others from suffering too and it allows them to feel some happiness vicariously.

The inevitable diminishing returns on the attempts to feel better, feel anything, or just escape eventually lead to the conclusion that there is only one way out of this hell. And depression shrinks our awareness of our own meaningfulness and inner world. The void is all we can perceive. The knowledge that we are loved, cared for, or important is lost. We can sincerely believe that our loss will not so drastically affect our loved ones and escape through death is a viable option.

These are all false of course. Falsehoods our sick brain tells us with honesty, because suicide is quite reasonable given what we are perceiving.

If you are feeling like you don't want to be here, wishing you would not wake up, desiring an accident, imagining about killing yourself, drugging yourself into oblivion, or seriously thinking about if or how you might kill yourself, you need to talk to someone. I got lucky. Someone who loves me more than I love myself saw me spiraling into self-destruction and made me get help and continues to support me in spite of myself. I spent years where my full-time job was not research or teaching, but just keeping myself alive. It's still my job now and then. But the difference now is that after many years of therapy and prescriptions I know that feeling is temporary and false.

I'm sorry it hurts so much right now. When you have some distance from these feelings (I hope that you will give yourself the chance to), I hope you can see that your life is worthwhile and important because you are.

But the only way out is through and that requires talking. I hope you have people nearby who love you you can talk to. If you do, talk to them. If you don't, this will be harder. Either way, you should also get into counseling. A good counselor will help you find ways to survive, build better mental pathways, & develop tools for processing emotions.

Brutal honesty- American mental health treatment system is shit and difficult to navigate. We have far too few professionals in many areas and online is often the only option. But you are a fighter. Look at you all alive and shit when depression has been trying to kill you 24-7. Live a little bit longer. You can do it. And if you are going to live a little bit longer, counseling can help you live it a little bit better.

[drbased]

Radfem makes me too aware and I just wanna die. How do we live in such a world with so much awareness? It’s painful to know. Other women ignore it and live delusionally better lives.

Oh, anon, I understand. It's the paradox of awareness; we're expected to grow and develop a larger pool of knowledge and wisdom whilst that same larger awareness ends up hurting us greatly.

Honestly, the main thing I would recommend is staying away from online radfem misery echo chambers. I don't like to reblog tragedies, or violence against women, or anything negative outside general observations, quotes from books, and theory. I'm always on the lookout for radfem-friendly blogs that don't share horrible news stories or graphic imagery without trigger warnings.

The problem with the internet is that you can easily access the Worst Horrors. But also, being Aware of the Worst Horrors doesn't actually make you a better, more moral person, or a better activist or feminist. It just wears you down, makes you feel shittier and shittier about the world. I would recommend making your world smaller and smaller; think of the internet as just another collection of books on your bookshelf and nothing more. With what you do know, learn to make peace with the idea that those Horrors existed before you knew about them, and that you're not responsible for them, and you're allowed to forget about them. If you're not planning on being any sort of activist, just forget most of this shit and concentrate on the things and people you love. Life's not worth it.

For me, radical feminism became a gateway into recognising my True Worth as a woman and human being; I have thoroughly incorporated feminism into my personal moral philosophy, and I feel enriched, emboldened and more grounded in result. After years of feeling stupid and insecure, I can finally recognise why and how that's come about. It's miserable to realise just how much the people who claim to love you are hurting you, and it can get very lonely - but I'm learning to come to peace with people as flawed members of a patriarchal society, each trying to survive and make sense of the world in their own way. I understand things a lot better than I used to, and I understand myself a lot better than I used to, and there's a real comfort, perhaps even a joy, in that.

I would also like to say that, frankly, it's arguable that these other women lead better lives. For one, you're doomed to misery if you believe that there is an objective measure of a 'good life'. Remember, everyone you meet is trying to project the best of themselves and their lives - you don't know what's going on in their private lives. And from what I've seen, the life of an average women is literally a horror story; women suffer greatly, losing their sanity and sense of self merely to cope with a world that punishes them for daring to exist. Your awareness may kill a certain part of you that was naive and lighthearted, but it will also set you free. You were never going to stay naive and lighthearted forever, and no doubt at some point your naivete could have lead you into the kind of real danger that kills women, metaphorically or physically. Maybe you already have had that happen to you. In which case, consider this your awakening, your sense of closure, an opportunity for real growth; you have an opportunity to gain a real understanding of your life and personhood that the patriarchy never wanted you to have. This is your chance to be human in a way that society doesn't think is even possible, this is a chance to defy all odds, this is a chance to say no, I will carve out a space for who I am.

Lastly, I'd like to make some shameless plugs; first, for my tag wisdom posting - I truly believe that you cannot develop and coherent and robust philosophical model of understanding and approaching the world without feminism, and in this tag I collect and describe all the wisdom that has really worked for me. To shamelessly quote myself

'you cannot gain true wisdom or understanding of the world without feminism. you cannot make the connections you need to make about how the human mind relates to things like suffering, competition and ego without decoupling yourself from male thought. female thought will set you free. male thought is designed to strangle you from within.'

When you realise just how much you've been lied to, you will find comfort in real truth.

And I'd also like to make another plug for my other blog learning womanhood, where I reblog and share everything I can find that deconstructs reverses patriarchal narratives around male supremacy, and instead centers women and female positivity. I used to be a very male-centred person; I thought of myself as an 'honourary guy' (way before hearing of transgenderism), so in this blog I re-examine what womanhood means to me and decouple myself from patriarchal understandings of who I am and my relationship with my sexed body. I've learned so much about how our (female) bodies are more robust; that we still don't know our potential in sport and exercise but we can develop our knowledge through rethinking what women-centered sport would look like; various contributions women have made throughout history, which have been ignored; that everything men say about women is complete projection; that women are the default form of human being; I could go on. It's been an exercise in deprogramming my mind and reconnecting with the full extent of my humanity and capability. All of this enrichment has been achieved through feminism. So there are horrible, horrible downsides, but it's the price I'm willing to pay for this level of understanding and sense of self in a world that was hostile to me way before I even knew what that meant.

[shiftylinguini]

Helloooooo pal! 4 & 14 & and a wildcard of your choice PLS AND THANK YOUUUUU for the writer asks? (AGAIN WITH THE ALL CAPS?!) If those don't spark joy or you've answered them elsewhere, feel free to swap them out for anything you'd like!!

the joy! she sparks!! (thank youuuu xo)

4. How many WIPs do you have right now? 

Jesus. Asking to see my whole ass now hahahaha. 

I have so many, it's fucking embarassing. Some of them don't even titles, they are genuinely "Untitled Document" and then when i remember "oh yeah didn't I have a story where Louis Tomlinson was a sardine? What about that one where Draco Malfoy had to train a flea?" I have to just fucking word search in my GDrive and I hope I can find it. There is no system and there never will be. 

At the moment, there are about 6 I am actively working on/thinking about/making new words on and not just sighing about, and they are: 

HP:

Erised (obvs)

7 minutes in heaven fic that has 0 plot but lots of warm jumpers

8th year fic (plot pending, lol there is a theme here)

Stranger Things: 

Cat Eddie (the sheer self-indulgence, it's self care)

Obligatory post volume two hurt/comfort/healing/ who's canon? never met her fic

AOB trash (aka the garbage can i call home)

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick? 

Oh shit!! That's so good, ummmm, I think i would want to see the ravens from Heartlines , or see harry's soulmonster from Midnight in the city of fucking long name . 

WILDCRAD!! (I spelt that wrong and I'm leaving it feels like a wildcrad thing to do (and anyone who has chatted with me knows that I am perpetually typing utter nonsense, so welcome to the club LOL).) 

2. Do you read/reread your own fics?

WIPS absolutely, millions of times, but posted fics? No, I don't, and I think I probably should? I see a lot of people do and for some reason once a fic is posted I'm like "see ya dickhead!!" but i'm sure it would be a validating experience to go back and experience them after a bit of separation from the actual writing process. I'm interested to know what others do here!

[kayleen756894]

For the writers ask: 3, 14, 35, 41, 50

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

Hurt / comfort is like my favourite thing ever so I throw that into nearly all my fics lol I enjoy both the sad and the safety of it all.

Also the majority of ships I write about involve a shy / insecure character who’s deeply in love with someone who’s confident and alluring but is in denial / afraid of their own feelings or something along those lines. I love writing the confident one helping the shy one come out of their shell while the shy one helps the confident one learn to accept their feelings, regardless what those feelings really are.

Also redemption. I love writing about villains / anti-heroes / characters who have made bad choices and regret it. I love writing about their complexities and seeing if I can make the reader sympathize with them. I’m also just a whore for the Bad Girl Gone Good trope like yes please.

14. Are there any tropes you would only read if written by a trusted friend or writer?

Not that I can think of honestly. Either it’s something I refuse to read or it’s something I know I enjoy, and if an author didn’t do it in a way I like then I just click the back button, no big deal. More often this is because I don’t agree with the characterization rather than other tropes tho.

35. What aspects of your writing are completely unlike your real life?

Ngl I’m a little confused by the question but maybe just like… how in love my characters are? Lmao I love writing about romance and having characters be so deeply loyal and in love and their vulnerabilities are laid bare and they’ll make choices for their love they might not otherwise make. And in fiction I love that shit. But I’ve definitely never felt romantic love even remotely close to that and I’m unsure if I ever will, but even so writing about it thrills me and brings me joy 👌

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

Not many fics make me think that but I suppose an exception is Risen from the Ashes, a Game of Thrones Sansaery fic. Definitely one of my favourite fics of all time. The characterization, the storytelling, the pain, the details, the love, I can’t 😭 if I were capable of actually completing multi-chapter fics I’d want them to turn out like this masterpiece.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15934313/chapters/37154903

50. Answer any question of your choice, or talk about anything you want to talk about!

I’ll use this to answer this one: 28. Does anyone read your fics before you post them? If so, who?

Just to shoutout a cherished friend of mine who is ALWAYS down to read my Danganronpa fics and talks about them with me and I would always send them to him before posting. I never let people see my shit before posting except for him. The amount of confidence and reassurance he’s given me and honestly how much we’ve bonded over them means so much to me.

Thanks for the ask!

[raineruxpin]

Somewhere, I just stopped engaging it. I purposely set boundaries around it and this made her turn on me. This happened a long time ago, but the result is we finally agreed it was over, and she took herself away. She also took things and lied, then placed the blame on me when I called her out and refused to engage in her narcissism. Then she made herself invisible to me for who knows what end. Finally, she then entered my place after she'd moved out, and stole an expensive custom and personally sentimental pair of shoes. I saved up for a long time to get those, so she knew it would hurt me, because I'd be made out as the unstable one for trying to do anything about it. She'd use my mental health as a pawn in her quest to punish me for letting her steal something that I worked hard for and was saving for a special occasion, because it meant she couldn't center herself in my joy anymore. Now, months later, I've moved into a cheaper place, but alone, so am barely making ends meet and will be paying off the debt on this long enough to hopefully have room to find an even cheaper place after this place raises its rent next year and max out my shit, yet again. In this time all of my family has deserted me or gaslit me into being threatened by my father with gun violence. He's literally a Nazi, and my brother and all his kids are too, and since they present a danger to girls like me, I cannot have them in my life. This means I can't have those that condone them being Nazis in my life either, which means even my mother, the only person who has shown me any respect this whole fucking time, I have to consider dead now because she won't even stand up for me. My son hates me because his mom and stepmother have spent his entire life keeping him away from me and denigrating me, also using my mental health as a pawn to justify this rift that feels insurmountable. I didn't ask for this. I'm just trying to live and learn and understand my condition better. I hope I never need meds because I don't ever want to be like that. All the joy and life removed from a person's essence. It's horrifying. I'm the tragic trans schizoid with ptsd and absolutely no sense of subtlety. Fat, old and abandoned, barely making ends meet. I won't be missed when I'm gone. They'll make jokes about me. Call me it. Deny my humanity. Then forget I was ever here. Just like all the people who said I was their friend over the years and disappeared once they got finally decided to actually get to know me. I'm so empty inside from everything I've lost from these countless vultures that have picked my bones clean for their amusement. I welcome the peace that comes after my circle has been completed. I also know there is still more pain to come for me. My existence reminds people that the world isn't the lie they believe it is. The lie makes them feel comfort, and some will even kill to maintain the comfort of the lie, than to be uncomfortable and be accountable to the truth. I don't have the privilege to live in that world because my truth makes me an outsider to it by default. Maybe one day those whove othered me will understand how much I've been shit on for no reason, how much danger and constant dehumanization that I constantly face, and maybe even feel bad for how they've treated me. I'm pretty certain I won't be around to see it. I'd love to be proven wrong about my family and so-called friends one day, but hope is for fools, and I don't have the patience to suffer them.

[jjk-anime-horray]

Mr. Steal your Girl

Suguru Getou x Reader

Summary: After Getou catches Gojo cheating on you, he finally becomes fed up with his bestfriend's bullshit. So, he does the mature thing, he goes and tell you what happened, and makes you his in the process.

Note: I had this thought in my mind forever, so I naturally write it down to preserve it. Please take this offering as my first unholy sacrifice to the Jujutsu Kaisen fandom. Please enjoy!

Warnings: This is NSFW! This is Smut! Please don't read it if you are uncomfortable with those things. Cheating (from Gojo), Sex, fluff, Reader is Female and or has Female anatomy , and Angst (Cross posted on my ao3).

When Suguru Getou, your boyfriend's best friend, and your good friend came knocking on your door after 8:00, you honestly didn't know what to expect. Was he injured? Your line of work was notorious for that. So, when you peered through your key hole to see his slender eyed face distraught, your first instinct is to open the door.

"Suguru what happened?" You say in a lower and mellow tone of your normal voice as to display concern. "Are you hurt?"

"No no, you got the wrong idea!" His black maned body lifted in his hand in a slight waving motion as a common action to calm someone down. "However, I have something to tell you. Can I come in?"

"Of course you're my friend, and I'm always here for you! Next time can you give me a little warning will ya?"

"Yeah, of course (Y/N)." He said while moving his body through your apartment's entrance, and swiftly plopping himself on your couch next to your body, already sitting there.

"Oh!" You say remembering something. "Do you want anything to drink or eat? I've got some left over pizza in the fridge if you want it! Hold on let me just go get it."

You quickly push your hands onto the cloth underneath you to lift your weight off of the couch, only to have your arm be weighted down gently by the man next to you.

"You don't need to get me anything (Y/N). Plus, I don't have an appetite right now anyway. Can you sit back down I really need to tell you this?"

He looked you dead in the eyes. Onyx eyes swirled with not their usual playfulness, but uncertainty and concern instead. Triggering you to sit back down on the fabric below you with the same feelings.

"What's wrong Suguru?"

"Well you see....." Words fell dry in his mouth. How was he supposed to tell you this without making you cry? He never wants to make you unhappy. He especially doesn't want you to cry because his friend is skank, and a piece of shit.

He looked over to you with sadness in his eyes, swirling in them with glassiness around the iris'. He thought about all of the times he looked to see you so happy with him, lips letting out gorgeous laughter, mouth curling into a beautiful smile, and your excitement burst at something with joy. But then his mind went to the blonde bouncing on Satoru's cock, moans leaving her mouth that were supposed to be coming out of yours for him. While she was pretty, she didn't nearly compare to you, and while she was sexy he couldn't even be slightly attracted at the thing bound to ruin your relationship. It angered him, enraged him, that his friend was stupid enough to hurt or give up something like you. However, his stupidity gave him a a direct chance to finally get what he wanted. I guess he could thank his dumb platinum blonde of a friend for that.

"Satoru is cheating on you."

"What?" You said, but you could hear him completely fine. It was out of disbelief.

"Look (Y/N), I'm really sorry. This probably isn't how you wanted to fine out. I just walked in on it, and I couldn't just not tell you when I was, you know.... there."

More and more consoling words spilt from his mouth in an effort to comfort you, but you cease to even register them as you started crying. Salty tears started to trickle from your eyes, and down your cheeks. You felt embarassed, jealous, and sad all at the same time. You knew of his past behavior, why did you expect anything to change?

"Wow, I'm an complete idiot."

"What (Y/N)?! Don't say shit like that! That's completely untrue. You're talented, funny, you-"

"Suguru, I knew of his past behaviors, I let my feelings ignore them, and I expected him to change. I'm a fool for that."

Why would you think he would change. Fuck, you gave your heart to the wrong person. You should have known! The trickle of droplets cascading down your face only started to grow even more. You didn't want to be crying in front of your friend. You didn't want to be crying at all! This was your fault for failing to see that people hardly change.

To Suguru it was heartbreaking to see you in a condition like this. If Gojou was anyone other than his best friend he would have beaten him to a pulp already.

"Hey, Suguru." You say, voice cracking as you tried to hold it together, and peaking your head up slightly from the position pressed into your knees.

"Yeah (Y/N)?"

"Could you give me a minute to cry this out, alone? I don't like you seeing me like this."

"Okay. I'll go into the other room, but I'm not leaving you completely alone when you're emotionally distressed."

"Thanks Guru'." You say as he left to go into the other room, away from your water works.

"Anything for you (Y/N)."

With him finally gone could finally let it all out, and truly just let yourself cry. Now, not having to worry about embarrassing yourself in front of your friend. Your eyes turned puffy the more you let out your pent up emotions. The same eyes turned redder the more you let out your anger because of the situation (through your tears). Red eyes turned your shirt wet, and completely soaked from the water streaming down your face. However, the more you let it out, the more you started to let it go. Yes it hurt, but no it wasn't something you couldn't recover from. Yes you were losing your friend, but no you weren't losing Suguru from this because he wouldn't be here right now if he was siding with Gojou. You hands drifted to your phone to text your best friend, Shoko, what happened.

Gojo cheated on me. Your fingers glided to press into the screen.

You waited fo couple of minutes, well only one, until a notification lit up your screen in response to your text.

You're kidding me

That son of a bitch, want me to murk him?

Do you need me to come over?

Multiple messages came bombarding in one go. You were glad to see that she was as pissed as you were. Making you halt your crying into snickering and laughter at your friend's eagerness.

No you don't need to come over

I know u r working, and Guru' is already here

He's the one who told be

Another light flashed onto your screen.

Okay, just tell me if you need anything

Luv you babes!

She never failed to make you smile, even if she was sneaking a smoke. In which that you hated.

Luv u too

"I heard laughter so I assumed if it was safe to come back in."

A certain man came around the corner with a glass of water and cloth his hands.

"Yeah you're right, Shoko is the best sometimes."

You felt a large weight lower half of the couch, coincidently lifting your eye level up to be more on par with a certain pair of slender ones.

"I brought you some water, crying drains a lot out of you, and I don't want you to get dehydrated."

"Thanks Guru, it means a lot."

You take the cup from his hand. Your fingers met with his fingers and the glass as you shifted the water from his to your hands. Then to lifting it to your lips you take a large gulp of it. Causing a little drop of water to dribble down your chin in the process of your refreshment.

As the water dripped down your chin you felt a thumb connect with your check, slowly making it's way down your skin to your lips and chin to imprison the that had escaped onto it's creases.

"Hey (Y/N) I have a damp cloth right here to help with the swelling of your eyes. Can you close them for a sec?"

"Sure."

With your eyes now closed you felt a cool presence over your eyes, but it did more than help the swelling in your eyes. It also calmed you down, but you knew it wasn't the cloth that was calming you down. It was the male pressing it gently into your face. And the one that gently removed it from your eyes when the right amount of time had passed.

Unveiling your eyes you look to Suguru who was currently placing the items he had gotten for you on to the table in front of the two of your.

"Guru' "

"Yeah (Y/N)?"

"Come here."

You said come here, but you didn't actually wait for him to move as you want to him first enveloping him in your grasp with a hug. Your head burying into his shoulders and chest.

"Thank you Suguru, for everything."

"No problem (Y/N), are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah I'm okay, I just wish I could forget about him."

"I could make you forget about him."

"What?"

"I said" Hot breath fanned across your ear, while you didn't know if it was the intimate position that the two of you were in, or it was the black haired man that was unbelievable gorgeous talking that sent shivers down your spine. "I could make you forget."

"Please (Y/N), let me make you forget." That last sentence was the last one needed to shift the mood completely. What was a light hearted one now turned heavy from the impending building lust that the two of you secretly shared for the longest time.

You felt hot lips trail down your neck, slow kisses dancing across the expanse of your skin down, only to quickly trail back up to your ear, and then your jaw. Wetness was placed right next to your lips, but not onto them.

Onyx eyes pierced into yours looking for a awnser. They swirled with want, desire, and love as they looked at your right in front of you. It was so intoxicating that you could help yourself from being completely lost in them.

"Suguru, please make me forget." You let out with a needy whine, wanting to get lost in his lips more than anything.

Then predatory orbs locking in on it's prey, and he pounced onto you locking you into a seering kiss as lips collided, and you were pinned under him.

His lips glued themselves to yours, hot, needy, and loving. They constantly alternated from hot, lustful, rushed kisses to slow, romantic, loving one that were offering you all he had to offer. You missed the feeling of them on you when he pulled away.

"You want to forget (Y/N)? I'll make you forget that that ungrateful bastard ever touched you, and that all you can think about it is my fat cock inside of you. You want that don't you?" Finishing his sentence he attached his slips to the sweat spot on you neck, causing you to silt your head, and grind your clothed sex onto the knee pinning you down to the couch.

"Please."

"Great, but lets get you undressed first, I want to see all of you when I ruin you. Strip for me, I bet you can do that angel can't you?" To allow you to put on a show for him he sat back onto the couch, staring at you with a ferocious hunger that was about to be fulfilled.

Obediently you sat yourself up onto the couch, and hooked your arms onto the bottom of your shirt to reveal your barren body with glorious feature to him.

"Fuck princess, no bra? Dirty girl~" He latched himself onto your breasts. Caressing, pinching, pulling with his right hand on one breast, and his mouth, sucking, teasing, and squeezing the other playful mound of flesh. He slowed his ruthless pace to speed in up then slow it down, again, again, and again. Alternating which breast got which part of his body, and it was driving you insane. And you couldn't help Letting out little whispers, whines, and groans as he did.

"Guru, stop teasing me please."

"I'll stop teasing you when you when I stop finding you amazing, because fuck I could play with you like this forever."

"Guru, please touch my cunt, please!" You said, letting out a whine, and bucking to his erection trapped in his sweats as you did so.

"Using dirty words I see. Princesses shouldn't talk like that darling, but who am I to not give pleasure to someone who's so honest about her needs. I'll give you what you want baby, lift your hips for me."

With no reason to reject his off you do was he says, allowing him to slip off your pants, and little white panties in one go. Giving him a full view of your glistening sex dripping with arousal from teasing. Begging to be touched as it pulsated.

"Wet already darling?"

You gasped airily, as you felt him insert a much need finger into your dying cunt. Finally giving your pussy the attention it it needed with big thick milky fingers.

"Fuck baby you're so tight, I'm going to have to prepare you to make sure I don't hurt you because I would hate to see that."

Speeding up his finger he forced for of it into your pussy lips stretching you out in the process. Pumping strongly with fingers curling up towards your womb he hit all of the right spots inside your walls as he added another finger. Causing you to squirm and wiggle under his grasp pleasing his eyes with the amazing sight.

Feeling bad that you were being given all of the attention, you slowly reach to try to touch him, only to have your wrist snatched up with his other free hand.

"Bad baby, shouldn't you know know not to touch people without their permission? Naughty."

He brought the soft curve of your hand up to his mouth to give it a tender kiss. Only for seconds later to bring into down to your clit, and forcefully guiding you hand to out pressure on the little sensitive flesh button causing as he move your hand to circle it.

This building burning pressure turned to be too much to handle as you felt a familiar sensation burn in your lower stomach as your body prepared itself to cum. Fluttering around his fingers in the process.

"Do you need to cum?" Suguru said while gazing his eyes into yours, speeding up his finger even more than you could imagine. Rending you speechless as you gave him a rapid nod in response.

"You have to use your words baby."

"Please Suguru, please let me cum!"

"Do it baby."

The sensation bursted through your lower body as you finally got the release you deserved. Suguru encased your lips into a lustful action as you whined into his mouth pouring slick all over his fingers.

Greedily while looking right at you he swirled his knuckles into his mouth a lapped your juices with delight, and a grin on his face pleased with his work.

He looked at you with a grin on his face, and a naughty twinkle in his eye that made you know what he was going to say next while slightly pulling down his sweat and boxers to reveal a juicy cock. Long, thick, trimmed, clean. Who new your Ex boyfriend's best friend was packing more than he was? I made you wiggle with anticipation. "I think you're ready baby for my cock, do you want it?"

"Yes please, fuck me now, in this pussy right here, I want to feel you so badly!"

"Someone's eager." He said letting out a heart chuckle. "Good thing you are because so am I."

Before you could even say anything he slipped you onto your stomach and slammed into you awaiting cunt all in one go. Affectively making you let out of scream.

"Suguru!" You let out with a yelp if pleasure, and surprise from the new invading stretch.

"Sorry I couldn't wait, fuck your so tight, if I had known I would have done this sooner."

He sunk himself fully into your pussy, then stalled waiting for your to adjust to the stretch of his member. Since you two were bearbacking he could feel every pulse of your pussy as it tried to accommodate his length. And he fucking loved.

Not being to contain himself any longer he pulled himself half way out, then slammed himself back in to see all of your fuck about expressions again and to hear you whine. God, he was going to get used to this.

Gripping your ass he made himself a slow but deep pace into your womenhood once again. He continued this again, and again, and again. Until he found himself speeding up and he drilled harder into your sex, loving he way he name founded when it was being screamed from your lips.

You found yourself having to try to control your breathing as to it not being completely blown away by the main raining to you from behind. His onslaught on your cunt made you abosulety breathless. You felt your pussy contracting the more you thought about the man pleasuring you, how did you not see all of him before this.

But your thoughts were ripped away as you felt a large hand grab your jaw forcing you to look up into predatory onyx eyes. The eye contact as he was hitting it from behind, having his balls pound into your clit, and your G-Spot throughly abused made you pussy quiver in anticipation of your release.

"(Y/N) are close to summing." He said. while completely continuing to fuck you without the slightest pause.

"Yes, umm hmm!" You say nodding as you still looked into his eyes, knowing his loved the contact.

"Fuck....." He said smirking at your wrecked form beneath him "Great." Then he took his hand off of your next to harshly rub your clit, causing you too spill your release over water than you. realized. Making you see white fuzz through the orgasm as he fucked you though it.

Now it was your turn to listen to his moans as seconds later he finished his thick cum on your ass as he flopped in exhaustion shortly after that onto his arms to entrap you under him into the couch cashing your breath.

Panting, Suguru flipped you over to sit you on his lap, curling your legs around his waist, sitting you up to face his intense gaze once again.

"I'm going to go clean you up okay." But just as he's about to lift the two fo you up you stop him momentarily.

"Suguru, will stay with me please?

"I thought that was a given, of course I'm staying, I'm going to run bath."

Placing a kiss on your forehead he brought you to your bathroom, and cleaned the two of you up. Slowly cleaning everything that may have been dirtied, caressing everything on your body, he held you in such a way that it just felt right to be like it.

And sure enough he was holding you in his arms in your sheets the next morning with no intentions of letting you go. Or letting you hear the door ring as his sorry ass of a bestfriend came to offer you an apology.

This was my first smut! How did I do you guys?

Part Two

[static-fanatic-1]

Hello, I hope you are doing well today. I was wondering if I can get a semi-angst hc of Pakunoda, Illumi, Milluki, Silva, Chrollo, Kurapika and Shalnark + Setsuno, Overhaul, Chronostasis, Tamaki, Endeavor, Shinsou, Aizawa and Shiggaraki with a s/o who hates them, but once their children gets kidnapped they beg and cry to the boys/girls to find their child and bring them safely home. Hopes that makes sense. Please and thank you.

Pakunoda:

She hates seeing you in pain, in ANY pain, so this doesn’t sit well with her at all. It hurts that you hate her, but to her it doesn’t matter as much as her undying love for you. She is sweet, and she knows despite keeping you captive, you are cared for. This includes your and her child. She will tear the world to shreds with her lovely heels.

She will be more methodical in ending whoever took her child, and no harm will come to the sweet baby. She will not use this against you in anyway, she would rather you love her naturally. So when da baby is returned, she won’t tease you or ask for something in return. She just wants to comfort you both and tell you everything is okay now.

Illumi:

Like Paku, Illumi cares about both of you, just in a really different way. He “loves” his kids more as a tool and as a successor to his lineage, not like he loves you. So when his kid is taken, there will be hell to pay.

He doesn’t really think much on the fact you are begging him, though it is a nice change to your typical screaming. He won’t brag, boast, or use it against you, for the most part anyway. He might be robotic, but he still is smart. He will keep your children in mind next time you try anything too risky.

Milluki:

He doesn’t care about his kids, they are spoiled little shits in his eyes. He probably didn’t really want kids in the first place, but one thing led to another and here they are now. So when they are taken, he sees it as an inconvenience, but also an opportunity once he sees how distraught you are.

He makes it into a big deal and boasts about how only HE can save your kids. HE is the only reason you will get your little babies back. And don’t worry, he will make sure you inderstand that. He will ALWAYS use this against you at any moment of any day. He wants you to know you need him.

Silva:

He doesn’t care about your kids, to him they are an end to a means, and another way to keep you with him. So as much as he knows his kids can take care of themselves, or at least he wants them to be independent through whatever means, seeing you hurt makes him take initiative. You are devistated, fine, he’ll save your kids.

Silva makes quick work of whoever took your kids, and makes sure to savor it. Once he’s done, he lets you take a moment to be happy for your kids being safe, but don’t expect to be in the clear. You will have to give him something in return, and knowing his sex drive, you probably wouldn’t like it. But your kids are safe, so everything is fine, right?

Chrollo:

Like Silva, Chrollo doesn’t care about your kids. A means to an end, to keep you locked with him. Though, he really does care about you, so he will do anything to make you happy.

This means getting that little bundle of attention-stealing-shitness back. Anything for you to get on his good graces. Besides, he has the whole troupe that loves the kid, so they will all pitch in to find the little one. I don’t think he will use this against you, mainly because you should already knows nothing will get between the two of you, not even your child.

Shalnark:

Shalnark is a strange one, to me he seems like a mix between Chrollo and Pakunoda. He cares, a lot, but if anything was to come between you and him, he wouldn’t mind making a point. Still, seeing you in so much emotional pain makes him jump into action.

He calls up his best friends to help find the poor sap who took his and your kid. Yeah, they won’t last long. Shal takes great care in handling the little one to make sure they aren’t too scared. He also spends a lot of down time after to bond with the both of you. Maybe this wasn’t a good thing to you, but to him it only brought you closer together.

Kurapika:

Really big family man, whoever took your kid must have been the most stupid person to walk the earth. He is defiantly on your side with getting his kid back, so he won’t use this against you as much as the others might. Instead of bragging or boasting about how you need him to keep you safe, he will want a little something in return.

He might be on your side, desperately wanting his kid back, but he wouldn’t waste an opportunity to get a little treat from you. He will manipulate you to feel guilty, like it was somehow your fault, just to get something from you. Wether it be some bonding time, or something more suggestive, he will get it through manipulation. Of course he’d love to bond some more with your kids after he retrieves them, just don’t think you are safe around Kurapika.

Setsuno:

This poor guy had a terrible relationship before you, so there is no way in hell he would let what happened before happen again. He hates the fact you hate him, but he refrains from hurting you in anyway, this includes your kid. He will leave the room, break things, anything other than touching you and both of your kid.

When someone takes the baby, you aren’t the only one pissed off. Setsuno is furious, so he will do anything to get your kid back. He calls his friends just in case, and the three of them destroy whoever laid hands on his baby. Setsuno is happy to have everyone together again and he’ll take this time to bond with the both of you. Just don’t push him away or else he’ll remind you who saved your kid.

Overhaul:

Overhaul finds children to be dirty, they are nasty things that need so much attention. With that being said, to an extent, he treasures his kid. He wants them to be just like him, so he takes his time to teach them everything there is to know about ruling the underground. Again, his kid is an end to a means, but he does think of them a bit more than most of the others on this list.

When he kid is taken, he is frustrated for a few reasons. One is because he taught his kid to use their quirk (if they are old enough to have it by now), and two because he has to waste his time trying did of dirty things. Though, seeing you beg for him to save your baby makes it more worth his time. Much better than when you grit your teeth and turn the other way. So when he gets the baby back, he makes sure you understand what he went through to appease you.

Chronostasis:

Another one that actually likes his children and treasures them. Chronostasis is more of a family man, taking care of the children, getting groceries, the usual stuff to help around the house while you are there. He doesn’t keep you stuck, he just uses his profession to threaten you. But other than that he acts like a normal father when he doesn’t have work to do.

Taking his child is a really bad thing. He values work a lot, so he will put work first, so he will only leave to find his kid once overhaul gives him the go. He might get help, but in the end it doesn’t matter. He will tear anyone apart to find your baby. When he does, he brings them home and smiles at you, taking as much time as he is given to comfort the both of you. Everything can go back to normal now, just ignore the spots of blood on the bottom of his white jacket.

Tamaki:

Such a shy guy, he doesn’t do much to your hatred against him, he kinda just lets it happen while apologizing profusely. Though he doesn’t let you go. He does, genuinely, love his kid. In a way it gives him a sense of pride that he helped create such a beautiful baby. So when they go missing, and you grip his shirt and beg for him to find them. Tamaki is relieved you finally need him, but so frustrated at the same time.

He wants to sulk and cry through his frustration at loosing his kid, but your begging doesn’t allow that. Instead he asks his besties for help and makes sure to hurry. He’s so happy to get his baby back he can’t help the tears of joy falling from his face. When he comes back home you both cry and hold your baby as close as you possibly can.

Shinsou:

I think Shinsou has an inner demon when he is a Yandere, this is when it shows itself. He loves his kid, and is a really relaxed guy when it comes to the both of you. It’s just when his patience is pulled by someone out of his obsessive behaviors is when it becomes a problem.

He goes on his own, after all he is a hero not many know about, and his ability is insanely powerful. He will find the people resposible and tell them to “jump off this building” or “go kill yourself”. Things that will force them to get their hands dirty and stay away from his kid. He comforts his kid, tells them everything is okay now and that the two of them are going home to see you. Y’all can all watch a movie too, get take out and simply take it easy.

Aizawa:

He is almost exactly like Shinsou, or Shinsou is almost exactly Aizawa. The biggest difference is Aizawa has less patience, and isn’t afraid to get a little sadistic. With that said, you are more likely better “behaved”, though you still have some fight in you. Your kid is one of your joys in life, so when he comes home from work and sees you begging for your baby back, he’s happy.

He goes on his own and takes out whoever was involved. He doesn’t kill, he isn’t that reckless, but he definalty beats them to a bloody pulp until the police arrive. He does the paperwork, and then happily takes back his kid. Aizawa will make sure you know he did this for you and he will make sure you only think that. He loves his kid, a lot, but if you think you owe him more love, then that’s a win for him.

Endeavor:

Enji thinks his kids are weapons, I mean, that’s obvious right? He does care, but more as it would be a waste if something bad were to happen to them. Also, they are keeping you stuck with him. So yeah, when they are taken he gets pretty pissed about it.

Enji kinda rubs it in your face too, I mean you are begging for his help. You NEED him to save your kid. He won’t tell you he would get them back either way either, he wants you to think you owe him. So expect listening to whatever demands he wants from you. Not much time to appreciate your baby being safe.

Shigiraki:

Crusty man actually kinda likes his kid. In a way it’s like he has a distaste for them but can’t help but have a connection with them at the same time. Even Shigiraki doesn’t think he would be too distressed if something happened to his kid, but he was wrong. He takes it personally, and your begging makes him even more pissed. How dare they?!

Shigiraki makes a huge deal out of it, the entire league (those close) will be involved to cause chaos to the idiot who hurt his kid. It will be all on the news, how much carnage he caused, but not a single person will know it was because of his kid. He will boast about how he defeated the final boss for you and his kid, and he expects you to reward him. After you reward his efforts he will relax with the two of you, taking in the warmth from your love.

[owomonsterwrites]

carter A-259 headcanons

here's some personal headcanons of mine for this handsome man <3 no warnings, aside from usual halo related things, like war and trauma. for @cranerosalia @zizzlekwum and @your-local-simp0 rejoice fellow carter simps <3

image by @malwarewolf404 :) thanks for letting me use it!

general headcanons

he's a bit of a night owl. having been used to doing loads of paperwork and filing, as per the job of a commander of a spartan team.

I imagine that if he isn't drinking coffee, its a strong tea, like English breakfast or earl grey.

a solid 4 cups of caffeine a day for this man!

he's not very in tune with his emotions, he is a spartan after all.

when he plans training matches, he tries to make it hard. it brings him joy to watch Emile struggle, wouldn't be shocked if it's because emiles been pissing him off.

, on one hand, he gets kind of anxious when the rest of noble don't reply ASAP but on the other he trusts them to take care of themselves and get out of whatever sticky situation theyre in.

late to bed, early to rise. he's usually awake before anyone, sometimes earlier than Jorge. whilst waiting for the others to wake up, he is sitting at his desk sipping coffee and looking at his PADD

i nabbed this idea from cranes fanfic "dysphoria", he likes old action movies. like early 2000's marvel shit.

idk if they have dogs on base, but if they do, he loves to play with them when hes off duty

Carter is a very sentimental man, so I think he'd have pictures of momentos from the people he cares about

He trusts his team but sometimes he looks at their shenanigans and wonders what the actual fuck is wrong with these people, it's really funny. I can just imagine kat or emile doing something they are CERTAINTLY not supposed to do and just staring with this look of exhaustion before he breaks it up.

He pushes his team to their limit, he knows they can do better every time, but he would never harm them.

with and s/o /sleeping headcanons

I’ll be honest, when he first figures out that he loves you, he will be confused, and in an attempt to remain calm and professional, he will shove those feelings down. He doesn't want anything ruining your guys current relationships

He's so charming, unintentionally, though, considering that he's not very in tune with his emotions, he is a good flirt when he wants to be, though.

He's the type of person to hold your hand and kiss your knuckles.

If he’s in front of his or your superior(s), he won't show affection because of professionalism.

I can't stress this enough, but HE LOVES TO CUDDLE OR HOLD YOU

I feel like he would be the kind of person to wrap his arms around you and put his head on your chest or stomach, making it impossible to get out.

If he's really tired, it's hard to wake him up. He will complain. But most days, it's pretty easy to wake him up.

He's very warm. The thin blanket that is supplied by the UNSC is not very nice, so when yall are sleeping in the same bed, he's very warm. It helps alot

If you two were sleeping in separate bedrooms and he would have a night terror, no matter what you’d wake up to him sliding into bed with you trying his best to not wake you up. he needs that comfort man.

Something about seeing you in battle fills him with so much pride and admiration, he likes his partners to be capable

If you were to get hurt he’d be very concerned, and if you're in critical condition, there's no sleeping for him. Carter doesn't want to leave your side at all.

He’s prolly a very gentle kisser, and only likes to show such large displays of affection behind closed doors, because of professionalism and how hard he sticks to the rules <;3

I feel like he'd take some time to think about if he actually is attracted to you or if it's just admiration, so he's probably a slow burn guy.

if yall wanna be tagged then dm me pls <3 i hope you guys enjoyed, blessed be, - owomonster

[the-insomniac-emporium]

I love your writing.

if it's not too much trouble may i make a request? I'm thinking the Dimitrescu women meeting and/or courting a fellow immortal.

the circumstances of the immortal's powers and possession of immorality are entirely up to you. I just like the idea of them meeting someone they could literally spend forever with...because they deserve it ❤

I wasn't sure if you wanted a story or headcanons? I went with HCs, here, but if you wanted more of a drabble or whatever just lemme know and I'll write something like that.

Also, I got excited and carried away so this has the whole Dimitrescu family, plus shorter ones for both Mother Miranda and Donna. Admittedly Alcina's is also a little on the shorter side? I tried to write everything that came to mind, but I am kinda tired right now, sorry. Might reblog this and add some more later.

(Under read-more for length)

Cassandra:

Tries (and fails) to hide her excitement. Mortality is one of the bigger things that has made her keep her distance to others, at least in the past. Every Maiden she’s ever been the slightest bit smitten with, up until this point, has been incredibly fragile. Seeing as she’s not exactly the softest person, one can easily imagine why that would be a turn off for her. But now that’s no longer a problem!

On the other had… having an immortal partner gives Cassandra pause. Why? Because what if they breakup? Normally, she can just, ahem, “dispose” of any exes (regardless of how much it hurts) so she doesn’t have to see them/deal with them anymore. If that’s not an option, she’ll definitely take longer than usual to do anything about her feelings. She wants to be sure, 100%, before she gets in over her head. Chances are she won’t hold back for as long as she wants though.

Likely to have a loud, messy confession. She’ll have been avoiding you for a few days, always ducking out of whatever rooms you enter, leaving you both hurt and confused. After enlisting the help of her sisters, you’ll be able to corner her outside. She’ll tell you, under no uncertain circumstances, to leave her alone. But you’ll refuse, demanding an explanation.

“I thought we had something. I thought you cared,” you’ll snap, eyes watering. “If that’s changed… if I was wrong, just tell me. I’ll leave and I’ll never come back.” Cue thunder and raining (because tropes) and Cassandra dramatically pulling you into a kiss, holding you so tightly you think you might bruise. Then she’s demanding that you stay, refusing to apologize but making it clear just how much she does care.

Being immortal, you’re not as defenseless as some of Cassandra’s past interests. Naturally, she doesn’t get quite as protective as she normally would. She’ll still have your back no matter what, ready to fight by your side against any foe, and will probably consider doing so a “fun bonding activity”. Oh, some lycans are encroaching on Dimitrescu territory? Time to go destroy them, as a power couple!

Despite having all the time in the world, Cassandra won’t change much of her actual courting behavior, nor the rate at which things advance. She’s still gonna get handsy fairly early on, still gonna “rah!” at you in the hallways, and still going to struggle with her jealousy.

Immortality Compatibility: I can see Cassandra going for another vampire (or vampire adjacent) creature, or someone demonic. She likes her lovers a bit rough, with some nice bite to their personalities. If you’ve got sharp teeth, or claws, or glowing eyes? Oh boy, she’s gonna be making heart eyes at you all the time.

Bela:

If your immortality isn’t immediately obvious, Bela is over the moon with joy when she finds out. Her eyes will go wide for a moment, before she tries to seem calm (so as to not freak you out), but her heart is pounding. This is what she’s been hoping for. As much as Mother Miranda has done for her family, there’s no guarantee that she’d be willing to give more. Even if Miranda granted Bela’s lover her “gift”, there was no telling what the results would be, or if the lover would survive. Now that there’s no need for such a transformation, it’s far easier for Bela to imagine herself in love (and eventually be in love).

Slow-burn romance over a decade or longer, oops. Doesn’t even necessarily mean to take things so slowly, just doesn’t feel a need to rush things, preferring that they develop organically. With both of you having unlimited time, you’re both used to working on a very large timescale. Maidens watching the two of you probably place bets on how long it’ll take you to hold hands for the first time. Everyone knows it’s coming, but no matter how much Cassandra and Daniela complain, Bela refuses to jump into things. By the time the two of you are officially together, you’re probably madly in love with each other.

More protective than Cassandra, if only because she knows just how rare you are. Immortal or not, you likely still have a weakness, and Bela will do everything in her power to make sure no one else knows what it is. If applicable, she will also ensure she has a countermeasure readily available. For example: If you were weak to fire, she’d make sure that the castle keeps extinguishers handy, just in case. Though they should probably already do that. Not that the Dimitrescu family cares much for OSHA compliance.

Somehow grows more in love with you with every passing year, and makes sure that you know this. Whether you’ve been together for one year or one century (because in this house we ignore canon), she’s always performing little acts of love, giving constant reminders of how strongly she feels. Gifts, special dates, book recommendations, etc.

Immortality Compatibility: Bela seems like the type to go for someone with a calming presence, and perhaps somewhat of a contrast to herself. I can picture her with someone somewhat angelic, or druidic, someone very in tune with nature. She’d love to feed deer with you and relax in the forest! Or lay against a tree by your side, listening to you talk about various microorganisms for hours at a time.

Daniela:

Practically tackles you when she finds out/connects the dots. This is just like one of her romance novels, where a lonely (attractive as fuck) immortal spends years in isolation before finally meeting the love of their life, who they get to spend the rest of eternity with. Absolutely ecstatic about the whole situation. Won’t stop kissing you and pulling you close, rambling about how great it’s gonna be to spend your lives together. Honestly? Kind of overwhelming. You might have to remind her a few times that you don’t have to rush into things, considering you have all the time in the world.

Introduces you to people as her “super cool/rad immortal life partner”. Genuinely cannot bring herself to not brag about you. If her sisters haven’t found someone like you yet, you can bet that Daniela will tease them about it all the time (much to their annoyance). If Momma Alcina doesn’t, though? Dani will keep her thoughts to herself, thank you very much (being grounded at her age does not impress the s/o).

Tries not to show it, but she’s actually very nervous. You’re immortal! You’ve probably seen a lot of shit (she certainly has)! Worries about keeping you interested in her, though she would never admit it. This tends to lead to her performing ridiculous acts to showcase her affection, regardless of the cost or, like, whether or not you’d even enjoy whatever she has planned. In order to counter her anxiety, you’ll want to reassure her whenever you can, and give her plenty of “I love you”s.

Strikes a decent balance between Cassandra’s nonchalant attitude and Bela’s protectiveness. Will defend you if you need it, playing up the romantic aspect, but also entirely willing to hide behind you in a scary situation.

Immortality Compatibility: Having probably read Twilight… Dani would date a werewolf, as long as they weren’t the smelly kind. Also interested in a sort of “magical”/elemental type, especially if their powers are influenced by emotions. In other words, if someone flirts with her in front of you, and your response is to subconsciously light your hands/the other person on fire? She thinks that’s hot, pun intended.

Alcina:

“Oh? Interesting,” she’d say, smiling softly (and trying to ignore the heat rushing to her face). Similarly to Cassandra, she’d try to play it off, not wanting to seem too excited. And, well, she’s not as excited as any of her daughters are. After all, she’s had more time than them to “get used” to the idea of outliving any potential romantic interests. So, she’s not exactly desperate for a relationship, even with someone she could spend an eternity with.

That being said, if she is romantically interested in them, she’s very relieved. Outliving a loved one can be incredibly traumatizing (fuck you c*pcom, you know what you did), and knowing that you’re safe (or at least safer than most) brings her no small amount of comfort.

Also, just glad to have another person close to her age around. Her daughters are somewhat stuck as young adults, and I imagine Alcina would want someone who gained immortality a little later in life, such as herself, as opposed to, ya know, reminding her of her children. That probably goes without saying. Hopefully.

More so than her daughters, Alcina would change her level of protectiveness depending on her s/o’s power level. If you’re a shapeshifter who can also turn into a big ass dragon? Then she’s not going to coddle you. If you’re immortal but still vulnerable, then she’s going to do her best to keep you safe, even going so far as to enlist the assistance of her daughters. “If you see a single Maiden growing mistletoe, or bringing some in from the village, let me know immediately,” or something like that, depending on your weakness.

Immortality Compatibility: Definitely would want someone in a situation similar to herself, having once been truly human, only to be “elevated” by something. Bonus points if you’re another disciple of Miranda, double bonus points if Miranda specifically “made” you to be Alcina’s boo/honey/darling/dear.

Bonus! Mother Miranda:

Oh god finally someone who won’t leave her (can’t leave her). No one can take you away from her, and that’s a relief that she’s been craving for over a century. Even if romance isn’t high on her priority list, she welcomes it with open arms, glad to have someone by her side through all of life’s chaos.

Admittedly slow to trust at first, probably just using you as a tool at first. But prove yourself enough, show that your devotion is more than just misdirected self-interest, and she’ll start to warm up to you. Forming a real relationship would likely take a couple decades, similar to with Bela. Once you are together, however, the two of you are inseparable in all matters.

You’d be her #1 follower, most trusted adviser, and the only person allowed to understand 100% of her thoughts and motives. While Miranda wouldn’t allow you to be seen as the same level as her (sorry), you’d still be a legend among the villagers. To them, you’re Mother Miranda’s champion, the epitome of a devoted follower that they all aspire to emulate. Not that they know the two of you are a couple, though.

Immortality Compatibility: No gimmicks, no cheap tricks, she wants (and respects) a fellow scientist, someone who clawed their way through adversity and forged themselves into something indestructible. Double the interest if you did so for a similar cause to her own, as she would appreciate your ability to relate to her suffering.

Bonus! Donna:

Someone to play with! FOREVER! No more losing people she cares about, no more accidentally breaking people, no more people scrambling to leave. Now that she has you, she can finally spend some quality time with another (living?) person. Honestly her dolls (or at least Angie) are just as excited as she is. Regardless of her relations with the other three Lords, Donna much prefers the company of a lover.

For real though she’s shy as hell and you might not even realize who’s pulling the strings until you’ve been in her house for over a year. She’d probably use her powers to trap you inside, at least at first, though they’d be nice hallucinations. You’d have to treat the dolls nicely, especially Angie, before she’d let you interact with her.

Eventually you’d be allowed to leave, and you’d be given a key to return whenever you wanted to. Assuming that you do, in fact, come back, the two of you would have a very, very slow romance, if only because of Donna’s anxiety. Hand holding makes both of your faces turn beet red, seriously.

Immortality Compatibility: *chanting* GHOST GIRLFRIEND GHOST GIRLFRIEND POLTERGEIST PARTNER POLTERGEIST PARTNER WOOHOO! Something with a flexible, only-sometimes-tangible form, who absolutely could have left at any time but didn’t because they wanted to stay.

[hangezoeenthusiast]

Papa

Part 2 Part 3

let me know if you wanna be tagged please. this will be a series

fem!daughter!reader

word count: 1,855

person: c!schlatt, c!quackity, c!karl, c!sapnap

warnings: parents, cursing, yelling, orphans, cigars and alcohol mention (btw these are the warnings for now)

synopsis: you were loved, you were cherished, then someone left, and other people replaced that person, and you didn't like that.

-

Your biological parents threw you out of their home because they couldn't care for you. You were at least at the brink of 2 years old when this happened. They put you in a little stroller and took you to an orphanage. "Miss Jessica's Home For Orphans", it was a stupid place, but the place got you fed, and clothed.

On some fortunate day, you were going to get adopted. Quackity his name was. He came in, and asked for kids 2-6. "Those ages are easy to maintain", he thought in his head. He was contemplating whether or not to get a child of his own. He was lonely, no one to love, no one to care for. So Miss Jessica called everyone 2-6 years old to come.

With help from a older person, everyone 2-6 came downstairs. Quackity looked at everyone, and wondered which child he would bring home. Then he looked at you. you looked so adorable, so cute. He asked you, "Hey kid, what's your name." "I'm Y/n, how are you." you smiled at him with barely any teeth. He pulled you gently off to the side, "Hey kiddo, do you want to come with me to my house?" "Yes Mr." you answer.

You were glad to go to Quackity's house, you never had any love from anyone.

-

(Spongebob theme) 8 years later

You were 10 years old, living happily with Quackity. 8 years ago, he came to the orphanage and picked you up, ever since, you were showered with love and care. But there was one thing, you never called Quackity dad. You would just call him Alex or Quackity.

“Hey Quackity, what’s for lunch?”

“Ummm, some pizza with wings, buffalo right?”

“Yeah.”

Quackity felt bad, you never and did call him by dad, or any parental name. “Hey kid, can i talk to you about something.”

You put down your water, “Yeah, what’s up?” “So lately I’ve noticing that you have been calling me by my name?”

“Are you uncomfortable with me using your name.” you asked. “No, no, but it’s kinda weird, since, yaknow, I adopted you, and I’m a parental figure in your life, so maybe if you would call me dad or another parental name that would be cool?”

“Ohh, the only reason I was calling you by your name because I thought you were uncomfy with me calling you dad?”

“Oh thank goodness, I thought I did something wrong.” he sighed out.

"Could I possibly call you papa, since you-" he cut you off by hugging you. He squeezed his arms around you really hard, 'YES, YES, ANYTHING."

So after that, you would call him papa or dad, and sometimes use his real name.

-

6 years later, you were 16. The election happened, the calling out of the votes, Coconut2020 coming in fourth, which was last, who was lead by Fundy and Nihachu, Schlatt2020 coming in third, lead by Jschlatt, Swag2020 coming in second, lead by Quackity who is your papa and Georgenotfound, and Pog2020 coming in first lead by Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot, and Tubbo. Also the sudden announcement of Schlatt2020 and Swag2020 polling votes, and the speech by Schlatt stating that Wilbur Soot and Tommyinnit were no longer citizens of L'Manberg now turned Manberg.

You were surprised, you didn't know that your father with add his votes with Schlatt's. So immediately after Wilbur and Tommy got banned from Manberg, Quackity and Schlatt called you and Tubbo up to the stage. "HEY YOU TWO, COME UP HERE." Schlatt yelled at you both. You both were reluctant to go, Schlatt was scary, his ram-horned self.

"It's ok Y/n, you're ok." your father told you. You stiffly went up the stage with Tubbo. "Tubbo, I want you to be the Secretary of State, and Y/n, I want you to be the First Lady, since your dad is the Vice-President." Schlatt demanded you both to be.

You didn't really want to be in a position of power. You were happy with living with Quackity, in L'Manberg, with no place of authority over anyone.

"Are you sure Schlatt, I mean, I suck at authority." said Tubbo. "Yes, I'm sure, I'm totally sure."

-

You were doing some paperwork for Schlatt when Tubbo came into your office, "Y/n, Schlatt and Quackity want you in their office."

"Ok, I need to finish this paperwork for Punz, he needs-"

"They said it's urgent."

"Fineee." you got up from your chair, "Thanks Tubbo, by the way, can you finish the paperwork, if you aren't busy."

"Yeah sure Y/n, just hurry up, they are really acting crazy in there." he jokingly stated. "Trust me, they're doing nothing."

You went out of your office, and walked all the way to Schlatt's. There, you found Quackity and Schlatt sitting together, talking about some random presidental shit. "Hey, what you guys needed me for?" you asked. You were desperate to go back to your office, still not used to this place. "We need to tell you something." they synchronized.

"Okkk, so what?"

"Umm, well Y/n, meet your new dad." you gaped at Quackity, then Schlatt repeatedly.

"NOPE."

"NEVER."

"WHY HIM."

"HE SUCKS ASS."

"HE SMELLS LIKE CIGARS AND ALCOHOL, WHY WOULD YOU WANNA DATE SOMEONE WHO SMELLS LIKE THAT."

You rambled on and on until Quackity covered your mouth to stop your obsequent talking, "Calm down mi quierda, first of all, it's not your choice, he makes me happy, I make him happy, and lastly, he smells great."

"YEAH I DO, YOU TELL HER BABE, I DON’T STINK." Schlatt yelled across the room.

“But why him, like there is multiple other people who is better than him.” you whined.

“Ok kid, I like, no love him, he loves me, why can’t you be happy with that.” Schlatt told you irritated.

“But-”

“No buts, just please be supporting of us, please mi amor?”

“Fine, doesn’t mean I like it.”

-

After that little argument you had with Schlatt and Quackity, you finished leftover paperwork so there wouldn’t be a pile of it when you came back to the office the next day.

You heard a knock on the door, and told them to come in. To your surprise, annoyingly, it was Schlatt, holding up your favorite hamburger from McDonalds. “Hey kid, what you doing?” he asked you.

You didn’t respond to him, trying to stay silent and finish the paperwork. “Your dad told me your favorite meal from McDonald’s, yaknow, as a present I guess.”

You still ignored him. "Kid, I know you don't like me, I wouldn't like me either if I found out my dad was dating-" you interrupted him, "It's not that, I want dad to be happy, it's YOU, you don't deserve his love. Do you understand Schlatt?"

He put his hand on your knee, "I know, I don't deserve him, I'm not trying to replace anyone in your life, I just want to make Quackity and possibly you happy."

You blankly looked at him, "Ok, that was a good statement, but if you hurt dad, I will make sure you live the rest of your life feeling like shit."

"We got a deal kid, you accept this partnership between me and your dad, and I'll won't break his heart, deal?"

You shook his hand, "Deal Schlatt."

-

"Hey kid, we're going out to a date, you want anything from outside?" Schlatt knocked on your door to your room. You were reading your favorite book when Schlatt interrupted your reading process, "Nah, have a good date."

You were kinda accepting Schaltt dating Quackity. You didn't like their PDA though. It was absolutely digusting, but it made your father happy. "Hey babe, what you doing in here?" Quackity appeared at the frame of your door. "Nothing, just talking to little ol' Y/n, isn't that right?"

"Yes, don't call me that though." "Ok then, you ready babe?" asked Schlatt. "Yeah, Y/n, don't do anything stupid while me and Schlatt are gone." You rolled your eyes, "I'm not going to do anything stupid papa, just have a great night with Jcum." "HEY, DON'T CALL ME JCUM."

"Love you both." you got back into your book, not knowing that the both of them were shocked.

Those three little words got both of them gaping at you. You didn't like Schlatt from the beginning, and you were saying to him "love you"? "What did you just say mi amor?" "I said love you both." you didn't know that those words were significant to Schlatt.

He wanted your approval of dating Quackity, since you are his only daughter. "HOLY SHIT, YOU SAID LOVE YOU TO ME, TO ME." Schlatt leaped with joy. "Don't take it too serious Jschlatt, you kinda warmed up to me these past weeks." you smirked.

He walked to your bed, and hugged you with all his might.

"Schlatt."

"What are you doing?"

"You are squeezing me too tight."

"I can't breath right now, let go of me."

You squeezed out, he was crushing all the oxygen out of your body, "Sorry, Y/n." he shyly spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. "Schlatt, we have had a lot of arguments, I didn't like you, still kinda don't right now, but you are actually a good person, and I actually, not fakely, approve you to date my dad."

Schlatt ran out your room screaming repeatedly, "YES, LET'S GOOO."

-

Quackity was out doing some random things for Schlatt, while you were cooking Schlatt's favorite food. Since last week you declared that you were actually ok with their relationship, you actually got comfortable with Jschlatt being near you.

It was a teasing relationship, you guys making fun of each other when the other did something wrong. To kinda celebrate the event, you were making food. You heard the door open, and there Schlatt was in his presidential suit. "Hey Schlatt, what's up?" you questioned while mixing the pasta in the pot.

He took of his jacket, shoes, and tie, looking stressed, "Nothing kid, just stresed out" "About what?" "Tubbo needs a lot of items to get something for me, but I don't have them." he sighed. "What does he need?" "He needs stupid netherite, the only thing I don't have in hand." "I actually have some, I could give it to Tubbo." you stated. "Thanks kiddo." "No problem Schlatt."

"Anyways, food is going to be ready in an hour."

"Thanks, I'll be in my room."

"Ok dad." He stopped in his tracks, "What did you just say to me." "What do you mean?" "Y-you just called me dad." he stumbled on his words with unbelief lacing them.

You smiled over your shoulder, "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't, who knows?" "You actually consider me to be your dad?"

"Well yeah, you're nice to me and papa, you take care of me, you love me, so why not?"

He hugged you from behind, "Thanks kiddo, I'll receive this announcemet with honor," he jokingly stated. "No problemo dad, just go take a shower, you stink." "NEVER." he wrapped his arms around you as much as he could.

(This is the end of this first part, this is my first time making a series, let me know what you think)