#doesn’t really make sense but eh whatever

[gay-thoughts-all-day]

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

[rogueddie]

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

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

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

Unfortunately, his friends haven’t gotten the message.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At first, nothing happens.

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

"Yes, it even has-" Tommy starts.

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

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

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

"I didn't grab you."

"Wh- Steve?"

"No," is all Steve can get out.

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

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

"Fuck this," he says.

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

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

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

Something tuts, like a parent admonishing a child.

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

Eddie Munson sits in the space they left empty.

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

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

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

"And... Tommy and Carol?"

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

"Fuck."

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

"Or?"

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

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

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

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

"Could- could you make someone love me?"

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

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

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

"Your mom," he repeats.

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

"Steve..." Munson pauses.

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

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

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

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

"Please?"

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

"Deal."

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

"What do you mean, weird?"

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

"You're joking."

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

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

"On your head..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scrambles out of bed, dashing down the stairs.

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

"Morning, sweetheart. Good dreams?"

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

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

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

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

"I'd love that."

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

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

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

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

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Ring My Bell

steddie, omegaverse, flagging/signaling culture, mdni 🔞

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

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

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

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

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

Pretty fucking gauche if you ask him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But it’s book-shaped!”

“You mean rectangular?”

“But it is a book right?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, what’s the pig?”

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

“Like the chocolates?”

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

Steve shakes his head, feels dumb. 

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

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

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

Suddenly he wants Eddie to be close enough.

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

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

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

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

“You’ve got blockers on-”

“Not everywhere.”

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

Towards his wet pussy.

continued in part 2

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unparadiz’d

Warnings: non/dubcon, bullying, blowjob, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Part of Roo’s Pajama Party (October 7-8)

Prompt: Unparadiz’d - brought from joy to miserie. (List of prompts here) + this look

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. I hope you enjoy this one and have a lovely weekend.

This is the last of pajama party drabbles. Let me know if you want me to do anything else like this.

“Actually, you’re both wrong. Gladiators were more often highly-trained. In fact, many were soldiers, but they most certainly weren’t slaves,” you intone. 

You can’t help a smile. After more than an hour of chatter over things you didn’t know or care about, the conversation finally sways in your direction. History. That’s your ish. The Roman Empire especially. 

“And where did you get that?” Ransom scoffs.  

Charles rubs your back encouragingly. He hates how you tend to fade into the background. He needs someone who can stand at his side, not behind him. 

“Well, I studied history. Masters, um, but you know, I am always open to learning new things. So, perhaps you might have proof otherwise.” 

Ransom scowls. He hasn’t offered much more than that for most of the night. You don’t take it personally. He isn’t much better with the table full of people he calls friends. As the newcomer, you’ll happily just let it slide off your back. 

“I don’t care that much,” he snorts. “Whatever. Charles, what about that Corvette? Sounds like a broke down train pulling up.” 

“It’s antique. A classic. You would know if you had any sense of taste.” Charles rebuffs smoothly. “Safia, you’ll have to recommend me your chef. Mine can’t make ravioli for shit.” 

You smile prettily and keep your fingers pinched around the stem of your glass. Charles’ friends are the society type. Your own are few and far between and the most you did was go out for coffee or a movie. These people are intellectuals and you can’t help but feel like a pretender. 

“Stealing from me again, eh, Charles,” Safia drawls. “Mm, I might. If you’re a good boy.” 

Safia is gorgeous. Thick black brows, thicker hair, full lips. You can’t tell if she’s flirting or you’re just intimidated. 

“So,” Kimora turns to you pointedly, “you studied history. How cute. What did you study exactly?” 

“Hmph, Marie Antoinette and the like, I’m sure,” Ransom mutters. 

“Um, ancient history, actually,” you speak up. “Egypt, Greece, and Roman. But I was able to explore a bit more in my undergrad.” 

Ransom clucks and drains his glass of whiskey. Your eyes meet his stormy ones. You’re not sure if his irritation is meant for you or if it’s more a general disdain. Every time you speak only deepens his agitation. You might be better staying quiet. You can bear the lecture from Charles after, but the hatred in that man’s eyes pierces like a knife. 

“Well, if you’re looking for any writers on the subject,” Charles suggests, “I give her a five-star review.” 

“No one wants to read about dead people,” Ransom snips. 

You sip from your glass and lower your gaze to the table. You’re embarrassed. There’s really no particular reason to be but the way he talks scalds you with shame. Everything you do is wrong in his eyes. 

“I don’t know, Hugh, some of them are a lot more interesting than you,” Charles retorts. 

“Fuck off,” Ransom snarls. “Don’t call me that.” 

“Oh, my bad. At least Hugh doesn’t sound like it belongs on a dog,” Charles chuckles. 

Ransom slams his hand down, rattling his plate and cutlery, “you’re such a fucking smart ass, Charlie.” 

“Oh, behave,” Safia reprimands, “sit down.” 

“Piss off, mommy dearest,” Ransom spins and stomps out. “Bunch of snobs.” 

As he storms off, Charles laughs louder and Safia tuts and shakes her head at him. Bronson reaches over to take an untouched quiche from Ransom’s plate. “More for us.” 

You stare after the angry man. Something must be wrong. It can’t just be the dinner. It’s been rather pleasant up to that point. 

“Well, we’ve almost finished the bottle,” Charles reaches for the wine. “You’ve got a spare bed?” 

“You know I do, Charles,” Safia affirms. “I had the guest rooms made up. I know you all too well.” 

“Oh, don’t act like you haven’t kept pace,” Kimora tosses back with a smirk. “Charles, save some for me.” She puts her glass out and you glance down at your own. You still haven’t even finished your first. 

The night wears on as you once more get lost amidst the garble. You put a word in or two but someone else always talks a bit louder or you find yourself without much to say. Finally, the plates are cleared and you disburse to find a room to sleep in. 

You didn’t expect to stay the night, but Charles seems to have anticipated it. He pulls a black nightie from his leather bag and fans it out on the bed. You stare at the dainty fabric. 

“Oh, wonderful.” 

You wonder why he didn’t mention the possibility. It hardly matters. Charles knows best. 

You change into the night gown. It’s tight and a bit short. You fix the straps as they dig into your shoulders. 

“I don’t understand, it’s your size,” he drawls and belches into his hand, “mm, those prawns aren’t settling.” 

“Are you okay? Should I get you some water?” You offer. 

He waves you off and grumbles as he stomps around the bed. You watch him go then slowly look down at the nightie. Your chest threatens to fall out of the bodice. 

You sit and wait and listen. The tap runs then shuts off. Charles’ wretch follows and his vomit hits the water loudly. You cringe and get up. You go to the bathroom door and nudge it open, “Charles, can I--” 

“Get the fuck out!” He barks and you obey. 

You back up to the bed and sit. You won’t be able to sleep. He’s sick and you just want to make it better. Well, it’s good he gets it out. You probably wouldn’t want someone hovering over you in the same situation. 

You wait for Charles. Twenty minutes before you get up and knock on the bathroom door. He doesn’t answer but as you try the handle, you find it locked. He’ll come out when he’s ready. 

You keep the lamp on and move to the top of the bed. You fold the blanket back and recline, but don’t cover yourself. You turn onto your side and close your eyes.  

As you keep your ears perked for Charles’, you slowly drift down. After the long night and stress of meeting new people, you’re exhausted. You cross your arms and sink into the mattress. Reality is vague on the other side of your eyelids as sleep creeps up your body. 

You lurch away as a door clicks. You roll onto your back and look toward the bathroom. The door is still closed. You blink as a shadow emerges from behind the other. The door to the hallway. 

You lay in disbelief, paralysed in surprise. It’s Ransom. He wears only a pair of silk boxers. He must have gone into the wrong room. 

“Um, hi?” You sit up, “I think--” 

He puts his fingers to his lips and you snap your mouth shut. Confused. Maybe he needs to talk to Charles. 

“Charles is just--” 

He wiggles his finger then points it as you. He comes up to the foot of the bed. He tilts his head as his eyes scour over your body. He smirks. 

“You know about gladiators, huh? Know everything, don’t you?” He hisses. 

“Erm, no, I... no,” you gulp. “I didn’t say that.” 

“But you had to say something,” he snorts. 

“No, I was only... talking,” you tense and bend your legs up protectively. “I’m just about to go to sleep. I can let Charles know--” 

“You can shut the fuck up,” he puts his knee on the bed and reaches for you. He snakes your ankle and pulls your leg straight. You squeal as he hauls you down the bed. “Make another noise and I’ll go find Charles and bash his head into the fucking toilet.” 

“Please,” you wisp. 

“I fucking mean it,” he wrestles your legs down as you try to kick. He crawls over your body to straddle you. You claw at his forearms and wriggle helplessly. “You think you fucking know it all, well, I’m about to teach you the most important fucking lesson.” 

He closes his hands around your throat and you cough. His thumb presses down sharply and you whimper. He shakes you until you’re quiet. Your eyes wet and you try to bat away the fuzzy sheen. 

“You don’t fuck around with me,” he growls as he glares down at you. “I don’t care if you’re fucking that cockwad, you speak to me with respect.” 

You wheeze and slap your hand on the bed. You didn’t mean to. You were just trying to fit in. Why is he so mad? 

“So let’s start easy. Don’t make a fucking sound, do you got me?” 

You nod frantically against his grip as your head pulses from the lack of air. He grins and slowly releases you. He brushes his hands along your shoulders and yanks down the straps of your dress. Your tits pop out and you close your eyes in shame. 

“Look at these things,” he gropes your chest greedily. “Guess that makes up for that mouth.” You sniffle and he pinches your nipples meanly, “look at me, you bitch.” 

Your eyes snap open and round, tears bobbling along the brims. He snickers and flicks his finger up your throat. He pokes at your mouth and toys with your lower lip. 

“I know exactly how to train that mouth of yours. Surprised Charlie hasn’t already,” he pushes his finger into your mouth, forcing deep until his knuckles press against your teeth and you gag. 

He rips his hand away and raises himself on his knees. You squeak as he rolls down his boxers and springs free. His dick bobs as he climbs over you and you shake your head and snivel. 

He grabs his dick and your head. He wrenches you up by your hair, straining your neck as he presses his tip to your lips. You clamp your mouth shut and whimper. 

“Open the fuck up or I’ll break your teeth. Don’t think I’m fucking lying. I’m here, aren’t I?” 

You tremble and give in. Your eyes flow over and blur with the wash of tears. It’s not just the violation, it’s that Charles is right on the other side of that wall. And you’re just letting this happen. 

Ransom rams into your mouth. He shows no mercy as he thrusts down and invades your throat. His hand fists in your hair as his other trails back to your throat. He rubs there as he pushes down to his limit. As he thrusts, he feels himself from the outside, growling and grunting as you gurgle. 

“Yeah, fuck,” He ruts harder and harder. Saliva pastes across your cheeks and your throat sears from his relentless fucking. “That mouth isn’t so fucking bad. Fuck. And those tits. You fucking play with those tits.” 

He straddles just above your chest. You bring your hands up and cup your tits in your hands. You babble and squeeze, squirming as he pumps into your mouth. 

“Like that. Huh? Listen to you. Sounds like he don’t fuck you good enough. He doesn’t punish this mouth how it should be,” he snarls and puffs as you feel the tension cord through him, “oh, yeah... yeah... yeah...” 

His breath rattles and he quakes. He yanks your head up so your mouth is right against his pelvis. He rocks slightly, suffocating you, and suddenly, twitches. You feel him explode in your throat. His cums flood you, rising into your mouth and coming out your nose as you choke and hack. 

You quake and cough as he pulls out of you, inch by inch. Your body lurches as you barely hold back a swell of nausea. He raises himself over you, his dick softening slowly as it shines with spit and semen. He groans and cradles his balls. 

“Actually, you aren't entirely useless.” He taunts. 

[thelonelyshore-if]

sfw for ravi to keep me from going insane pls

Nonnie I'm soooo sorry this is so late I've been going through it. But here's Ravi's alphabet, I hope it brings you some joy <3

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

Ravi keeps his distance. It isn't that he doesn't want to be affectionate, but…he hesitates. Especially with physical affection. He isn’t sure it’s a good idea to get to that close to someone, in a very literal sense. When he is affectionate, though, he likes holding hands and slow dancing together when there isn’t any music. He’s a big fan of just holding hands while you’re having a conversation. Having that little tether of connection is big for him.

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

Infuriating. He'd be infuriating…though he's a fiercely loyal friend. He tends to act on his whims and he can be smug and superior, even with his friends. But he'd love to talk magic and do puzzles together. Much like Croft, if you want to befriend him chances are you're going to have to be the one pursuing it on the front end…unless you somehow attract his attention. Such as, if you wash up on shore in the middle of the night. 

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

Ravi loves to cuddle and avoids doing it whenever possible. Too intimate, too close.

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

Ravi's house is pristine. He's an okay cook but not actually all that skilled. He wants to settle down in theory (especially with the right person), but probably not in practice. 

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

He'd just ghost you! You'd never see him again. And if he ran into you in public he'd do his best to avoid you. Full on pretending you don't exist. Unfortunately Ravi isn’t very good with Big Feelings or with confrontations.

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

The idea of marrying the person he loves is enough to make Ravi shut down completely. He'd love to do it. He never could do it. There's no chance.

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

Physically he's very very gentle, barely risking touching you at all. He's also…decently emotionally gentle, but he's complicated. As seen in game he can be kind of a dick. But he can be so soft and tender when he wants to be.

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

Ravi loves hugs, and doesn’t mind them from friends. Hugs from crushes or a partner are even better, but he'll be much more stressed about them. His hugs are brief, though there's always the lingering impression he wants them to last longer. 

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

It would take him a while (like. years) if left to his own devices, but I could see a near-death situation making him say it much sooner. 

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

Eh Ravi doesn't really get jealous. He finds it funny when other people try to flirt with his partner or whatever. He trusts the person he's with, and jealousy just isn't really his thing. 

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

Scared. Passionate. Hesitant at first, more uncontrollable the deeper it gets. He likes being kissed on the face and the hands especially, he likes kissing his partner on the hands, too.

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

Ravi doesn't really get kids, but he likes them. He usually just treats them how he'd treat adults…which sometimes can get him in hot water when he lets a kid or teen do something irresponsible that they Are Not Old Enough To Do. He just assumes kids know their parents’ rules and will follow them lol. 

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

Very much so like the first morning with him in the game!! Except you’d presumably wake up in bed together. But he’d wake up, press a gentle kiss on your forehead. Go start breakfast (unless he’s too sleepy for it), prepare you your favorite drink (even if it’s water), and then he’d wait for you to get up. His brain is shut down early-morning so he’d sit in silence and read the paper unless you prompted conversation, but he doesn’t mind a comfortable silence.

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

Just as low-key as the mornings, tbh. Share dinner together, and then he’d try to prompt some sort of shared activity. Doing a puzzle together, going for a hike or a drive, even just watching a movie. Eventually he’d shower–probably on his own, it would take a lot to get him comfortable showering with you–and then time for bed! He doesn’t sleep much, but he’d love to just lay with his eyes closed, holding you.

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

Ravi’s very open, so long as you aren’t expecting the truth c:

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Not very, but it’s definitely possible to push his buttons. He prides himself on his control, but is kind of addicted to anything that makes him lose said control. Ravi is very, very level-headed. It takes a special sort to get him angry.

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

Ravi remembers everything. He really isn’t the type to forget even the smallest detail. It’s almost a little unsettling how much he manages to remember.

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

Ravi’s first date is a hike in the woods c:

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

He’s incredibly protective! Especially when it comes to the fog. That being said, he presents said protectiveness in a very particular way. He believes it’s more meaningful to teach someone to protect themself than rush in to be their knight in shining armor. Minor spoiler, but Ravi will be one of the biggest proponents of MC learning to control their magic. And he’d be flattered if MC was very protective of him, but also amused. In theory, he’s one of the safest people in Easthaven–he can take care of himself.

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

Ehhhhh it fully depends on the day lol. It’s something he’d like to do, but honestly he doesn’t always think about that sort of thing. Ravi’s a romantic guy, but it’s definitely in his own way, and these kind of details can fall to the wayside.

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

He’s a liar. He’s incredibly set in his ways. He’s arrogant, and likes feeling superior. Also he’s not above putting his cold hands under your shirt in an attempt to warm them up.

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

In an attractiveness sense, Ravi’s concerned on an average level. He wants to look good, sure–doesn’t everyone? But more importantly, he’s very self-conscious about his scars. He doesn’t let anyone see them, other than the ones on his hands and face, and even those make him feel anxious. Though I suppose it does have less to do with being judged and more to do with what those scars mean to him…

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

Yes. If given the chance, MC will become his entire world.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Ravi is scared of dogs. He doesn’t like coffee but loves the smell–he prefers tea. His favorite season is winter, even though he hates driving on ice. He has at least one puzzle that he’s used puzzle glue on and every so often considers framing and hanging on his wall. He hasn’t yet because it feels kind of tacky. When he was a teenager he used to sneak out and fall asleep in the graveyard.

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

He really will struggle with a MC who is hell-bent on getting out of town. He can work with a skeptic, as much as they drive him insane. He finds it kind of funny and kind of hot, in an odd way. Ravi finds stubbornness sexy lol. But if the person he’s fallen in love with wants to leave him? It terrifies him in a way he can’t explain. How can he in good faith help them do it? And wouldn’t it be equally bad to try and stop them?

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

He frequently falls asleep with his glasses on.

[o-sunny-day]

THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS EPISODE 4 DISCUSSION NOTES!!!!

TALK TO ME ABOUT THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS!!! IM BEGGING YOU!!!!

Spoilers ahead :D so many spoilers :D

IVE GOT THOUGHTS!!! That can most conveniently be organized in sections of character analysis… Some Jax and Ragatha are in there too but these are the MAIN ones I have the most thoughts on/thoughts that revolve around them but still include other characters. LETS GO!!!

CAINE!

Allow me to indulge in my PERSONAL favorite thing first before being more general- im getting these out of the way first cause theyre less THIS EPISODE and more how this episode adds to the rest of his character and omg i love him sm….

I loved when Zooble and Jax talked about Caine. I love when Caine specifically is talked about. Cause like- people's opinions of him. I care about a lot. itll ALWAYS be interesting, cause hes THE GUY. THE MAN. THE DUDE THAT PUTS THEM THROUGH ALL THE SHIT THEY HATE AND MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE “REAL” FEELINGS. He’s a really unsuspecting goofy character at a glance who (telling from ep 3) like actually KINDA cares?? Cant tell if it’s for more selfish reasons or what, but he’s clearly PROGRAMMED to care about his guests, so he does.

And some people (zooble) are kinda SCARED OF HIM and FOR GOOD REASON???? Like yeah no shit, Jax. Caine has the power to do ANYTHING including killing you…torturing you for all eternity. fun stuff like that!

But he won't! cause hes not programmed for that. So he wont.

Also side note: Caine said in the last episode “Zooble! look at this cool bee I drew!” and on his desk he just has a shitton doodles of bees. This is all he does in his free time.

Second more important side note: Caine glitching out at the end feels important, but also feels like just a comedic moment. and idk what to make of that. LOCKING IT IN MY HEAD EITHER WAY CAUSE IT CAUGHT ME OFF GUARD ON THE FIRST VIEWING SO MUCH 😭

LAST THOUGHT: I would LOVE for him to gain sentience cause I have a sneaking suspicion he doesn’t right now telling from how he’s literally PART of the circus they’re in… HM… Cause telling from Gummigoo it IS POSSIBLE for AI to gain sentience…. Foreshadowing perchance… OH YEAH, GUMMIGOO!!!

GUMMIGOO!

HE TOTALLY RECOGNIZED POMNI AROUND THE END OF THEIR INTERACTION. his face changed when she said that none of this is real in front of him, HE KNOWS. SHE KNOWS. but they also understand Caine wont let him stay. Kinda like a Sans (kill me) moment of “ik none of this matters, but since it wont last, I’ll at least be happy doing it!”

Something I love about the writing also…This being a very rushed adventure that Caine didn't get to spend a lot of time on explains WHYYYYY GUMMIGOO IS IN THIS. LIKE THIS WASN’T JUST FOR THE PLOT IT ACTUALLY MAKES SENSE???? all of the NPCs in it are unfinished or redos. He didn't have time to make new ones. ***I JUST LOVE THAT THAT'S SO SMART***

GANGLE.

i'm obsessed

Her taking off that smile mask and actually smiling with her real face KILLED ME. shes learning to be her authentic self and I love it

Jax constantly breaking her happy mask, making her reveal her true sad face feels like the equivalent of bullying the quiet kid like- she's always just pretending to be happy/okay, but then him harassing her makes her “break character “ (EH??? EH??? BREAK??????? CHARACTER????????? MASK?????????WHAT??????)

But Gangle going crazy I think is a sortaaaa “metaphor” (there's a better word but I cant think of it) for how pretending to be someone your not can make you the person you hate. Like she was kinda abusive in this episode… People who are awful people were all victims once, technically- not ALL ofc cause nothing is black and white n all that, but you get me-

IN GENERAL…

i think the motif of this episode was pretending to be someone you're not, for whatever reason you have. Not just for Gangle! For Jax, its to entertain himself, keep em sane. And for Gangle, its for everyone else. But for RAGATHA…I feel its both. She wants to feel useful/helpful for herself for selfish reasons BUT she also just wants to be useful/helpful for everyone else for kind, caring reasons. I already got that vibe before this episode, but Gangle talking about how she cant tell when Ragatha is being genuine or not makes me very confident this is the case

I thought Gangle was gonna abstract in that last bit of the episode, and im like 99% sure that was intentional. I love that a lot… I love how this show is written, abstracting was introduced right away, so now its a looming threat across all these characters youve grown to love, appreciate, and relate too

Idk what Gangle getting hit by the truck was a reference to, but part of my brain rot theorizing in me wants to say this digital world is basically Hell and thats how she “died” before getting here. Doesnt make any godamn sense and the truck thing totally has other explainations I JUST CANT THINK OF ANY!!! PUTTEM IN THE COMMENTS BELOW AND DONT FORGET TO HIT THAT BEL- *gets shot*

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

Get Some Rest

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

Word count: 1.3k

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader

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

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

Hotch: @14buddy22 @pastanoodles11 @htchnr

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[billskeis]

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

2006 tom :)

ᡣ𐭩 tom helping his gf w math

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

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

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

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

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

you on the hand, not so much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

or was it just, tom?

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

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

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

the homework was completely forgotten, but that can wait.

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

[r0semaryt3a]

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

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

Chrollo Lucilfer -

Ah Chrollo, my wife <3

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

Bisexual (no pref)

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

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

Feitan Portor

He/it

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

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

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

Phinks Magcub

He/him

Straight

Messed around once - quickly learnt he was indeed straight

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

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

Machi Komacine -

my absolute favourite

She/her

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

Bisexual - fem pref

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

“Call me whatever…I’m a girl though.”

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

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

Franklin Bordeau

He/him

Homosexual

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

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

Uvogin

He/him

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

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

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

Pakunoda

She/her

THIS WOMAN IS LESBIAN NO DEBATE

L e s b i a n

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

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

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

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

Shalnark

Does not care

Pan

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

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

Nobunaga Hazama

He/they

Homosexual

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

“I’m a homosexual.”

Hisoka Morow

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

Type of guy to make a “Yours” joke

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

Another bisexual - his preference is fight me

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

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

Shizuku Murasaki

She/it

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

Will blink at you for two minutes before sighing a response

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

Kortopi

It/its

Aroace

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

bonolenov

He/him

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

Illumi Zoldyck

He/Him?

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

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

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

Kurapika Kurta

He/they

Bisexual

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

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

This was actually really fun to sit and do-

[ghostf1ux]

5 Times Jason Saved his the Flock and 1 Time they Saved Him: Maze of Mirrors

Day 8: Panic Attack

Words: 2k

TW/CWs: Joker venom, panic attack

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (here) | Part 5 | Part 6

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

“WHERE THE HELL IS HE?!” Jason roars, grabbing the goon’s collar and slamming him into the nearest surface he can find. Apparently it’s a wooden crate, and it practically explodes with the force of the body crashing down on it. He presses down on the guy’s throat, leaning in uncomfortably close. “If you don’t answer me right this fucking second, a crushed windpipe is going to be the least of your worries.”

The hired gun scrambles underneath Jason’s grip, but doesn’t manage to do much more than piss him off further. He leans more of his massive weight on the guy’s throat, which seems to really put his situation into perspective. He doesn't mind the fact that he's going to be lectured by B later about excessive use of force.

Because it's Joker.

Joker has Red Robin.

Joker has Tim.

“He- he’s in the- the mirror maze–” The goon chokes out, gasping for breath when Jason finally lets him go. 

In a blur of movement, Jason is sprinting out of whatever fucking funhouse he was in and is bolting towards the mirror maze. He taps a button on his helmet, speaking hurriedly into his comm.

“RR’s in the mirror maze,” Jason reports, swinging around the doorframe of the building to keep his momentum. “I’m already here, so hurry the fuck up.”

“If Red’s there then Joker probably is too,” Steph oh-so-helpfully mentions.

“I’m counting on it,” Jason growls in response, barreling down the way too long hallway to the entrance to the maze.

“Hood, stand down. You can’t be trusted being in Joker’s presence,” Batman cuts in gruffly. Jason snorts a humorless laugh at that, kicking open the door.

“Bad signal, B,” he responds flatly before turning his comm off. He grimaces at the dim beginning of the maze, seemingly stretching endlessly in every direction. The scarce lights on the ceiling flicker ominously, throwing off his sense of direction even more in combination with the mirrors. The place is silent, aside from a distant thumping, too frantic to be anything but Tim’s attempt to be heard. Jason shoves one of his gloves in his pocket and uses one of his many knives to make a sizable, but shallow slice on his hand.

“I’m here, Red, where are you?” Jason shouts into the abyss, starting to walk forward with his hand trailing on the mirrors to his right. The toe of his boot thumps against a mirror in front of him, so he follows it and turns. A trail of blood follows him, marking where he’s been so he doesn’t need to double back. If only he had a sharpie or something.

There’s no response to his shouted question.

And then Jason is thrown back to his nightmares, his memories.

Hysterical, mocking laughter echoes through the maze, way too loud to be coming from anywhere but speakers that are stationed on the ceiling. Jason whips his pistol out at the nearest one, shooting it just to shut the man up.

It doesn’t work.

“Oh, Hoodsy, you’ve come to join us!” The Joker’s grating voice finally comes through instead of that fucking laughter. “I was expecting Daddy Bats, but I’m sure we can have some fun too, eh? Just like old times! Boy blunder number two and his Uncle J!”

Joker cackles again as Jason slams into a mirror in his hurried pace. He recovers easily.

“Where’s Red Robin, Joker?” Jason yells instead of going along with that same sick song and dance. 

“Oh, he’s having just the grandest ol’ time with Uncle J. Isn’t that right, birdie boy? Say hiii!” Joker sing-songs. There’s muffled yelling on the other side, then a shout of pain. “He’s sure having more fun than you had, that’s for sure! Maybe I’ll finally get my answer during this little family reunion of ours, hm?”

Joker laughs again just as Jason foregoes all caution, just letting himself slam into mirrors as he tries to find his way through. He’s practically breathless, but not from the effort of trying to run through a mirror maze and body checking a surprisingly durable slab of glass every ten seconds max. Some combination of adrenaline, panic, fear, and rage is making his breath come in short gasps and making his vision narrow as green encroaches on the edges of it.

Jason gets fed up with the mirrors at some point, and tries shooting them.

The bullet bounces off and very nearly misses ricocheting into his chest.

He doesn’t try shooting them again.

His pace picks up as he starts hearing doubles. Two sets of evil, cynical laughter follow him, mock him, for his vain attempts to find his little brother. He punches the nearest mirror with enough force it cracks, spiderwebbing out from his knuckles.

He pauses, glancing between the cracked glass and the other mirrors surrounding him.

And decides that the best way to test his theory is to bodycheck the mirror just past the one that cracked under his fist.

The glass shatters around him as he stumbles to regain his balance, fully prepared to just bounce off the glass, not go all the way through it. The laughter is louder now, somehow.

Oh, maybe because there's a man in a purple suit doubled over right across the dingy secret room he stumbled into.

Scratch that.

There's two people here.

And they're both. Fucking. Laughing.

“Robin–”

“Oh Hoodsy, welcome to the party!” Joker cackles. He throws his arm around Red Robin, around Tim, like he's a fucking friend, and then they're laughing together. Tim's face is stretched in a far too wide grin, and his domino has been ripped off which makes it obvious to see just how fucking distraught Tim is.

“Let him go–” Jason's growl cracks at the end, betraying his… well it's not panic, but it's… no yeah it's definitely panic. Fuck. He thought he was over this. (No he didn't. He just tricked himself into thinking it.)

“Hm, I suppose I should move onto my next joke, shouldn't I…” Joker trails off, then whips something out of his pocket at the same time that he shoves Tim at Jason. “Don't blunder this one, boy!”

Jason drops his guns to catch Tim on instinct, only seeing whatever it was Joker threw after Tim is already in his arms, shaking from continued forced laughter.

And then he registers a small piece of metal clinking against the floor.

And then he registers the grenade sitting at his and Tim's feet.

And in the next moment he's kicking it away and yanking Tim with him to the ground, throwing his body over his younger brother's right as the grenade explodes and shrapnel goes everywhere. He feels the sharp heat digging, tearing into his thighs, his lower back, his ass– fuck, that was going to be annoying to get out later by himself because he was not letting anyone in his family dig fucking grenade shrapnel out of his ass–

Jason blinks as his hearing and vision comes back into focus and all he hears is laughing. He remembers what was happening before the grenade went off, and startles to to straighten up.

“Fuck, shit, Tim–”

Saying his name seems to bring him slightly back to awareness, or maybe takes him further away, because he lurches and scrambles away from Jason at a speed he'd be impressed to see from a speedster. He's grasping desperately at his chest, at his throat, and tears are streaming down his face and–

And fuck, Jason does not know how to handle this. He clips his half mask to his belt and pulls down his hood, then holds his hands up placatingly. 

“Timmy, hey, it's just me, it's just Jason,” He shifts to his knees and fuck does that hurt but it doesn't matter because his little brother needs his help. “Timbit, I can help you, I can get you the antidote, but I need to get you to the Cave first, yeah?”

Tim just curls up in a little ball, making himself smaller than Jason has ever seen him– too small, really, for his age– and folds his arms around his head, over his ears, rocking back and forth. Jason can hear the way his breath hitches and rattles with whatever sobs make it out between bouts of laughter, see the flinches that are far too noticeable to be anything but pain.

“I'm gonna come closer, okay?” Jason shuffles forward, slowly, loudly, for Flock standards at least. He comes up from the side, in Tim's field of view (if he was even looking up) enough that he won't think Jason is trying to sneak up on him, but also not blocking his way forward so he doesn't feel like he's being cornered. Tim doesn't react, not even when Jason comes right up beside him.

“Can I hold you, Tim? I need to pick you up to get you to the Batmobile,” Jason asks softly, hand hovering over Tim's shoulder. There's a moment of– not of silence, not when Tim is still laughing and sobbing in equal measure– but of hesitation, of wavering trust–

And Tim is leaning into Jason's hand. He lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding before gently maneuvering Tim into his lap, wrapping his arms fully around his little brother and letting him hide away in his bulk.

“That's it, Timmy, I've got you, it's gonna be okay,” Jason murmurs, leaning back against the wall. His hand briefly leaves Tim to inject him with a tranquilizer, but then it's back to card softly through his hair as he drifts off into a (hopefully) dreamless sleep.

Only once Jason is sure that he's out does he tap his comm back to life, listening to the chatter for a few minutes, just letting his own emotions settle to the sounds of his family while he keeps his little brother close, warm, safe in his arms. It's grounding.

Jason finds himself matching his breaths with the sleeping boy, leaning his cheek against the top of his head. He's almost comfortable here, despite the shitty, old concrete he's on and the shrapnel embedded in his backside.

But eventually the chatter dies down and Jason knows he should probably say something, should probably let them know he's alright and that the baby bird is alright, but he's just so tired.

Fucking Joker. Fuck Joker. Fuck Batman too, for letting him live. Fuck him for his rules, his Rule, really, capital R and all. If it weren't for that, then none of this would be happening. He wouldn't still have this kind of reaction to Joker, his brother wouldn't nearly have a cracked rib or three from his mixture of a panic attack and Joker Venom and he wouldn't have been hiding from that fucking psychopath–

“–ood? You okay?” Steph's voice filters into his ear, reminding him that oh yeah, he turned his comm back on. He blinks the rapidly encroaching green around the edges of his vision away and realign his breathing with the little bird's, loosening his grip on him.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm fine.” Fuck, he's really lost his touch. He really needs to get better at lying to his family. “I've got the baby bird, need the Batmobile for pickup. He got stuck with some Joker Venom, don't know what strand.”

“Is he okay??”

Jason lets himself have the ghost of a smile at Steph's obvious worry.

“I tranq'd him, so he's out for now. And he'll have a shitty wakeup later, after the drug is out of his system. But he's not particularly injured, s'far as I can tell.”

“I will have the proper tools prepared for your return, sir,” Alfred responds evenly. “I've sent the Batmobile your way.”

“B, I've sent you the coordinates of both Red Robin's and Hood's bikes.”

“Don't you dare fuckin’ touch my bike,” Jason growls, but it doesn't have a lot of bite to it, and it's certainly not at the volume he'd normally be at, but that can be easily attributed to the sleeping baby bird in his arms, even if it's a tranq'd sleeping baby bird.

“Aww, don't want anyone touching your baby, Hood?” Steph croons.

“No, I don't, and anyone who does will lose use of the fingers for it,” Jason shoots back as he stands, moving gently so as not to not disturb the little one.

“Adorable.”

“Shut up.”

“You love me.”

Jason sighs.

“Unfortunately.”

[rosemariad]

SUPERNATURAL SEASON 15 - THE BITTER END - SERIES FINALE

We finally made it here.

Ooooooooh boy. 😬

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

You’re gonna waste minutes on this really?

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

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

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

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

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

Ah…the nail of imminent demise

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh what a shame…

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

Well SPN it’s been interesting…sort of.

On that note…

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

[mythica0]

!!epic fic idea!!

Lee!polites? Ler!ship crew, euryloches, or odysseus?

Good friends

🎂: epic the musical

🧁: Polites

🍫:Eurylochus, Odysseus

Summary: Polites has a bit of a… problem. And he’s too embarrassed to say it out loud. Of course, his friends find out anyway, and decide to help him out.

A/N: thank youuu! Normally I would request a scenario but I already had one in mind for this so you lucked out. We love Lee!Polites 💕. This is pretty dialogue heavy, so I hope who’s talking when is clear, and the story is as well. I also don’t really like the title but whatever. ENJOY! >:3

Good friends

Polites woke up.

Aaanddd… immediately knew that it was gonna be a long day. There was a buzzing, fluttery feeling under his skin, and a nagging desire settled in his chest.

A lee mood.

He’s had them before. And it always makes the day seem significantly longer. Of course, he could just ask, but that’s so embarrassing!

And, in addition, it’s not easy to hide. He knows that if his friends find out they will tease him relentlessly. Not a very fun experience.

So, yeah, he tries to hide it with his life.

He sighed and got out of bed, it’s no excuse to miss work. He tried to ignore the fantasies flashing through his head.

“Hey captain!” He tried to act normal. This is fine. He’s fine. Nothing is different. But, apparently, he was having an off day. Because whereas usually he can go fairly unnoticed, Odysseus immediately knew something was up.

Odysseus tried not to show the suspicion in his face. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but Polites was.. off. He was… I don’t know, restless? He looked like he couldn’t sit still.

“Polites. How are you today?”

“I’m well! You?”

He wasn’t lying. (Polites was a horrible liar.) so it wasn’t something that was bothering him..hmm.

“I’m good as well.”

“I’m glad. Any tasks for me today or just the usual routine?”

“Ah, nothing special today.”

Odysseus also noticed he was gesturing with his arms less, as if nervous to expose himself. Eurylochus walked up.

“Hey there. mornin’”

“Eurylochus. You slept well?”

“Eh, I’ve had better.” Eurylochus also immediately noticed Polites was off. He kept getting distracted mid conversation.

“Ah, sorry to hear that!” Polites responded, chipper as ever despite his… off-ness.

“I’ll be alright.”

“Okay, well, I’m gonna go start work, see you two later!” And Polites walked away.

Odysseus turned to Eurylochus once he was sure that Polites was out of earshot.

“Does Polites seem off to you?”

“Oh, absolutely. Glad it’s not just me.”

“Oh yeah, not just you. Something is definitely going on. The question is what? He isn’t upset.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t seem like he’s sad or something. We should keep our eyes on him and see what we can gather.”

So they did. Over the course of the morning, they watched him. They noticed that he was kind of.. giggly? And he also seemed to get flustered for seemingly no reason occasionally. He also seemed extra responsive to touch, just brushing his side gently would make him jump.

They eventually put the puzzle pieces together. Or, well, Odysseus did, being the smart man he is. He pulled Eurylochus off to the side to inform him and make a bit of a plan.

“Captain? What is it?”

“I know what’s up with Polites.”

“You do? What is it?”

“He’s in a lee mood.”

Realization dawned on Eurylochus’ face. “Ooohhh, that makes sense.”

“Mhmm. And I have an idea.”

“Go ahead.”

Later, lunch was served, and after everyone ate, Odysseus walked up to Polites.

“Hey, Polites?”

“Oh, hey Ody! What’s up?”

“You’re not in trouble or anything, but can you see me in my office?”

“Oh, yeah, sure!” Polites mind was racing. If he wasn’t in trouble, what was it? Did they find out?? The very idea flustered him to no end. But he followed his best friend to his office nonetheless.

He was surprised to see Eurylochus there as well.

“Oh? Eurylochus is here?”

“Yes, I am. Hi Polites.”

“Hi! What’s up?”

The other two in the room smirked a bit.

“Oh, nothing, I just noticed your little…. Problem.”

Polites mind raced once more. ‘Wait, actually? They actually know? Oh gods..’

“Oh?”

“Yes, yes. We noticed that you’re in a lee mood, dear friend.”

Eurylochus chimed in. “And what kind of friends would we be if we didn’t help you out?”

‘Oh my gods, is this actually happening right now?’ Polites thought to himself, excited and nervous and flustered all at once.

Odysseus and Eurylochus walked up to their friend, and Eurylochus took his arms in one hand and put them above his head. Polites started blushing from fluster and embarrassment, and nearly started giggling from anticipation.

“Let’s get these out of the way, hmm?” Eurylochus’ voice held an unusual teasing lilt, only adding to Polites’ embarrassment.

“Oh gods..”

“What’s wrong? Embarrassed?” Odysseus asked, teasing his friend even further. Then he placed a hand gently on his side, not actually tickling yet, just teasing.

This broke Polites into anticipatory giggles.

“Ohoho nohoho…”

“Aww, laughing already? I haven’t even started yet~”

“Ohohody! Stohohop teheasing!”

“Oh, you want me to stop teasing, hmm? You want me to just start already?”

Polites groaned in embarrassment through his giggles. “Yehehehes!”

“Aww, okay, I guess I’ll have mercy~” Without any further words, Odysseus started to scribble against Polites’ sides, making the other’s giggles grow fuller.

“Ehehehehehe! Ohohody!”

“Whaaaaat? I thought this is what you wanted?”

Polites just groaned again.

“Oh, don’t worry, I know how contradictory the brain can be when it comes to this. You love it, yet your mind is screaming at you to make it stop~”

Polites blushed even further, still giggling like a madman. Eurylochus took his free hand and started to scratch gently at his tummy.

“Ehehehe, Euhuhurylohohochus! Nohohot thehere!”

“Oh? Not here? Not this little tummy right here? But you love this spot~”

His friends wanted to kill him. He was so flustered that he felt like he might die. And their constant teasing was not helping.

“Tickle tickle tickle~ look at how happy you are~”

“Ohohody! Stohohop!”

“Stop what? Stop tickling you? Cause we both know you don’t want that~”

“Stohohop teheheheasing!”

“Aww, why? Is the little lee gettin’ all flustered~?”

“Eheheheh Ohohody!” He didn’t say it aloud, but Polites was having an absolute blast. He’s, he was embarrassed to all Hades, but it was so much fun.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

Eurylochus decided to chime in again, still scratching and digging at his friend’s worst spot.

“What’s the matter, Pol? Too ticklish~?”

“Ehehehehehehe nohohot yohou tohohoo! Ahahahaha!” Polites bouncy, happy giggles filled the room, emanating a contagious joy that made the other two parties smile too.

“Aww, you’re just so downright precious~”

“Ehehehehehe nohoho ihim nohohot!”

“Yes you are, don’t try to deny it~ I mean, just look at you! Your smile is adorable~ and don’t even get me started on those sweet giggles.”

“Eehahahaha guhuhuys stohohop!”

“Why should we? You’re clearly enjoying yourself~”

Polites was so red he could be mistaken for a tomato at this point. This was unbearable and amazing and so, so flustering. He couldn’t take it! And yet he loved every second.

Part of him actually did want it to stop, so the pleas weren’t exactly In-genuine, but they weren’t fully genuine either. It’s confusing.

“Stohohop! Guhuhuys! Ehehehehehe!”

“How bout this, you admit you’re adorable and we’ll stop~”

“W-whahahahahat?!”

“You hear him. Tell us that you’re precious and we’ll let you go~ just three simple words.”

“Ehehehehe nohoho wahahahay!”

“Oh, so you’re not ready for us to stop yet? That’s okay, we can keep going until you’re done.”

Polite continued to giggle and squirm and blush so warm it felt like his face was on fire. But it wasn’t to the point where he was desperate. He could hold out a little longer.

“Ehehehehehe guhuhuys plehehehease!”

“You know what you have to do~”

As much fun as he was having, it was quickly getting to a point of desperation, so Polites caved.

“Fihihine! Yohohou wihin! Ihi’m cuhuhute!”

The other two immediately let up, Eurylochus letting go of his arms. “See, now was that so hard~”

“Ugh, youhou guys are mean..” Polites was still blushing furiously, a few small remaining giggles slipping into his speech.

“You know you loved it.”

“Ughhhhhhhh”

Odysseus ruffled his hair. “You’ll be fine.”

Just as they were all about to disperse, Polites decided to say one last thing.

“Uh- thank you.”

“No problem, Friend. Glad you had fun. I know I did.”

Then they separated and went about their usual day, all as if it had never happened. And Polites could confidently say that he felt a lot better. Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.

———THE END————————————————

[xpau-official]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[vacantgodling]

i’m thinking about this post/image

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

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

so to make this incredibly simple:

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

ie:

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

b: eh, yeah, i’m up for it

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

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

ie:

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

b: HELL YEAH! i’m so down.

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

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

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

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

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

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

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

Scout:

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

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

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

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

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

——————————————————————

Soldier:

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

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

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

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

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

————————————————————————-

Demoman:

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

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

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

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

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

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

——————————————————————-

Engineer:

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————————————————————-

Heavy:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————————————————————————

Pyro:

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

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

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

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

———————————————————————

Sniper:

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————————————————————

Medic:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———————————————————————-

Spy:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- “What?”

[i-luvsang]

jam to my peanut butter — choi san

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

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

he flirts with you, you flirt back.

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

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

“almond butter?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(spoiler alert: he does.)