#he gets so mad and snippy about it

[daegu-flowjob]

Hongjoong is constantly ready to argue about this.

[shannonsketches]

like why did they change where Vegeta was when Cell announced the cell games in the anime

why did they make this vegeta starting shit with yamcha instead of chillin in the lab with his family? why did they take Bulma out of the lab? Why'd they say she was Out while Dr Brief was repairing 16? Why did they change Bulma working on advanced robotics to running in late with her baby?

it's the same scene except: - Bulma's actively at work being a scientist - Vegeta's not being rude to her (or anyone else!) - Vegeta waits for Trunks instead of leaving the room - Cell interrupted the airwaves, which means Trunks and Vegeta were just hanging out with Bulma and Dr B while they were working

Those are all Great Character Details!! That the anime rails against!!

[void-tiger]

Thinking about you, even when I can’t be around you, I want to be better, and want better for myself. I feel brave enough to be ambitious.

And when anxiety isn’t eating away at either of us? I can finally feel safe enough to be at rest. Not need to fade away or else be “on” all the time. (I still want you to feel as comfortable teasing me playfully and cracking jokes directly with me and letting yourself ramble that you are seemingly with everyone else, though. That’s how I truly know I’m connected to someone.)

In short, I miss you. And it has nothing to do with your travels.

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

I was thinking and wondering about how 141 and könig would react if their s/o started breaking down whenever they dropped a plate or fucked up in some way like leaving something on the stove and their s/o completely breaks down. Apologizing and crying and saying “pls don’t be mad at me” stuff like that.

Or reader accidentally says “ok” I’m a kinda of snippy voice and they genuinely didn’t hear reader, and say “what?” And reader responds with “yes sir” or some shit like that as a trauma response? Srry if this is confusing lol

If this makes you uncomfortable pls ignore

Hey there! I can do this, no problem.

141 + König Reacting To Reader Having A Breakdown From Past Trauma

Warnings: mentions of past trauma, abuse, crying, feelings of unworthiness, swearing - ENDS IN FLUFF!!!

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Simon Ghost Riley-

Nothing was going your way today. You spilled coffee on yourself first thing this morning, stepped in a muddy puddle with your brand new shoes, and your boss was in a horrible mood, and you were his target.

You made it home later that night, and it took everything in you not to break down. Simon would be home soon, and you knew he'd be hungry, so you mustered what energy you could to head to the kitchen and start cooking.

~

"Hey babe, I'm home." You heard Simon's voice call from the front door.

"Hey, dinner is ready." You turned a bit too quickly to greet your husband, and the plate of food in your hands slid from your grasp, smashing to the floor.

You both stood there for a moment, staring at the mess on the floor, before you let out a choked sob.

Simon quickly threw his gear to the floor and carefully made his way around the broken shards to you. "Baby, what's wrong? It's okay. We can clean it."

"Please don't be mad at me, Simon." You sobbed into his chest. "I didn't mean to it, it slipped."

Simon's eyes widened as he looked down at you, grasping your cheeks in his hands softly. "Sweetheart, why would I be mad at you? It was an accident."

"Because I broke the plate! And you were probably hungry, and now dinner is ruined, and I'm a terrible spouse." Your brain was going a mile a minute as the word vomit continued to pour out. "I'm so sorry, Simon. I'll be better."

Simon pulled you back into his chest as he tore through the thoughts in his head. Why were you so upset? It was just a plate. You two could order takeout? What kind of person would be mad over....oh. A lightbulb went off in Simon's head as he looked down at you.

"Y/N, sweetheart, look at me."

You slowly peeled your head from his chest as you looked up at him, your eyes puffy and red from crying.

Simon rubbed his thumbs along your cheeks gently before he spoke. "I'm not him. And you are a wonderful spouse. I couldn't have asked for anyone better to be by my side every day. I don't give a damn if you dropped a plate. We are all human, kid."

You let out another sob, your bottom lip quivering as you took in his words. It was known, Simon was a man of few words, but he always, always knew what to say to help you in the moment.

"I love you, Y/N, always. I'm always going to be here for you, and I promise you, I'm never going to get mad about trivial shit like this. You're okay."

Simon stayed holding you for some time, rubbing soothing circles in your back as you started to calm down. "Why don't we order some takeout, yeah? My treat."

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

You and Johnny had just finished up dinner, and he was currently finishing up the dishes as you got the show you two were binging ready on the TV.

"Do you want any popcorn or anything babe?" He asked as he placed the last dish in the cupboard.

"Nah, only you and a buttload of cuddles." You said, turning to him with a warm smile.

Johnny leaned back, admiring you, as his hands rested on the stove behind him.

"FUCK!" He cried out, as there was a searing pain emitting from his hand. "Is the stove still on?"

You jumped up from your spot on the couch, alarmed at Johnny's cry of pain, and you went white as you realized you'd forgotten to turn the stove off after cooking dinner.

"Oh my God, Johnny. I'm so sorry." You mumbled, your heart beginning to race as you made your way over to your boyfriend slowly.

"Shite, that fucking hurts." Johnny waived his hand in the air, trying to shake away some of the pain, not realizing his quick movements had you hunched down in the corner, your arms over your head defensively.

"Y/N?" He asked, the pain in his hand long forgotten. "Baby, did you..did you think I was going to hit you?"

"I...I... I'm sorry, Johnny. I didn't mean to, I forgot I thought I turned it off." You cried out, tears now falling down your cheeks, your hands shaking violently.

"Did that..did that fucker hurt you?" Johnny began to put the pieces together in his brain. Before him, you were in a relationship with a man who liked to hurt you whenever you made a mistake.

You gave a small nod, your bottom lip trembling as you tried to prevent a small sob from escaping. Johnny slowly moved to sit on the floor next to to, and grabbed your hands gently.

"Y/N, I will never, and I mean never lay a finger on you like that. Any man who does has no right to be called a man. I am so sorry you went through that." Johnny rubbed soothing circles into your wrists as his eyes stared lovingly into yours. "Don't worry about the stove being left on. It happens. I do shit like that all the time. Plus, I've gotten way worse burns than this, this is child's play."

You let out a soft chuckle as you exhaled deeply. "I love you, Johnny. Thank you. Let me at least grab the burn cream for you."

"I love you too, babe." He have you a warm smile as you walked over to the medicine cabinet and watched as you fumbled with the contents.

Johnny made a silent promise to himself that day, that if he ever saw your ex, he'd teach him a lesson of his own.

John Price-

"Hey, have you seen my white dress shirt? It's not in my closet." John asked, as he rummaged through your shared room. He had a gala tonight he was supposed to attend, and he couldn't find his favorite white shirt.

"Oh! I washed it, I knew you wanted to wear it, let me go grab it from the dryer." You called back, making your way to your laundry room.

You rummaged through the dryer, trying to find his shirt, and your heart dropped when you saw it. You pulled it out, revealing a giant ink stain on the front, and looked over to find a pen that had gone through the dryer along with it.

Your hand flew to your mouth as you let out a muffled sob. "No, no, no."

"Were you able to find it? I appriciate you washing-" John's voice was cut short as he took in the scene in front of him. "Is that my shirt?"

"John...I... I didn't know that it was..there was a pen." You started rambling, your voice trembling with each word.

John took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as he took in your state. "It's alright, love."

"No! No you're mad, I fucked up and now you're mad. I'm so sorry. I didn't know there was a pen, and..and.. please don't hate me." You sobbed, falling to your knees, your hands flying to your face.

John felt his heart shatter as he watched you crumble to the floor. He was very aware of the past you had with your family, a family that allowed for very few mistakes, and one that would punish you for any said mistakes.

"Y/N. Baby. It's okay." John crouched down beside you, pulling you into his lap. "I've got you, it's alright."

You choked out a sob as you threw your face into his chest, staining his shirt with your tears. "No, no, it's not. This was your favorite shirt and I fucked it up."

"Love, I was the one who left that pen in my pants. It's my fault, not yours. I promise you, honey, I'm not mad." He rubbed at your arms soothingly as he pressed kisses to your forehead.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as you continued to clutch onto your husband's arms. "I should've looked, still. I'll buy you a new one."

"Aye, screw the shirt. I'm kind of glad it's ruined. I didn't want to go to that silly dress up party anyway. I'd much rather stay here with you."

"Really?" You asked, wiping away your tears.

"Really. I don't need some to be at some party with stuffy stuck-up pricks when I can be here with my pretty little partner. I'm gonna go order us some takeout. What do you say we get our pjs on and watch a movie, yeah?"

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

"Hey, babe. Can you keep me alive in this game for like 5 minutes? I have to go run to the bathroom, I can't pause it." Kyle called out.

"Oh, yeah, sure. I'm not very good at those kinds of games but I can try." You gave him a sheepish smile as you walked over to him.

"It should be super easy. Just walk anywhere, but where the guys with red bars over their heads are. Those are the enemies." Kyle said, before placing a kiss on your head. "I'll be super quick, I promise."

You swallowed thickly as Kyle walked away, your hands shaking slightly as you held onto the controller.

You managed to do pretty well at first, avoiding all of the enemies that were wandering around you. Luck, however, was not on your side for long.

An enemy came out of nowhere as you were pacing back and forth in one of the corners of the map and managed to kill you with one hit.

"Thanks for watching it, babe. I hate how I can't save my progress in -" Kyle stopped mid sentence as he saw the "YOU DIED" message flicker across the TV screen.

"Kyle, I'm so sorry. He...he came out of nowhere, and I.. it was one hit, and there wasn't anything I could do." You started to hyperventilate, your breathing increasing rapidly as tears brimmed in the corner of your eyes. "I was doing well, and I didn't see him I.. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, hey, it's okay!" Kyle was quick to come over to you, taking the controller from your hands. "I'm not mad, baby."

"But you losy your progress and I fucked up, and now you hate me." Your thoughts were racing through your head faster than you could process, and you threw your face into your hands as you let out a sob.

"Y/N. Baby. I promise you, I couldn't ever hate you. It's a stupid video game. It's okay. You're safe. You're with me, not him." Kyle gently pulled you into his lap as he began to press kisses to your hair. "It's okay, sweetheart. Besides, it gives me a chance to go back and loot better shit anyway."

You looked up to him through your bleary eyes, and gave a wobbly smile. "I don't deserve you, Kyle Garrick."

"Bugger off with that, love. If anyone doesn't deserve anyone, it's me who doesn't deserve you."

König-

You and König were cleaning up in the weapons/gear locker at the end of a brutal mission. The two of you moved in slow motion around the room, removing your gear and laying down your weapons to be cleaned.

"Maus, can you help me get this vest off? I can't seem to get the buckle." Königs voice shook you from your thoughts, and you turned to help your lover.

The strap of the vest seemed to be stuck, so you gave it a little tug. You evidently had put too much pressure, and it caused you to tear a hole in the fabric, leaving the strap useless.

Your mouth flew open, and you quickly ran over to grab one of the sewing kits on the table. You returned to him, and immediately started to thread at the fabric.

"Hey, hey, it's fine. It's just a tear. We can look at it later." König said, trying to grab at your frenzied hands.

"NO! No, I have to fix it!" You shoved him away as you continued to stitch at the torn fabric of his vest. "I have to fix it."

König watched helplessly as tears began to stream down your face, unable to do anything to console you.

He knew of your past boyfriend and how weak he made you feel. Any mistake you made would end with you being on the end of either physical, or mental abuse, and it made Königs blood boil thinking that anyone could harm someone like you.

"Maus." His voice was firm, catching your attention immediately. "Stop, please."

Your bottom lip wobbled, a whimper barely escaping your lips as you looked up at him. "But I ruined it."

"I don't care about the vest, schatz, it's military issued I can get another." He said gently, as he pulled your hands away from the vest. "I just need you to be okay."

"I'm..okay. Please don't me mad at me." You cried softly, looking back to the vest.

"I couldn't ever be mad at you for something like this. I'm not, and will not ever be like him, okay? You're alright, I promise you." His hands dropped yours and landed on the back of your neck, as he turned your head back to him.

"Tell me you're okay." He said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"I'm okay." You repeated, your eyes fluttering shut.

"Tell me you're safe." Another kiss was pressed to your cheek.

"I'm safe."

"Tell me you're loved." A kiss was placed to your forehead.

"I am loved." You repeated once more as a final kiss was placed to your lips. König had started this "mantra" of sorts one of the very first panic attacks you had with him, and it had become a comfort for you ever since. He was always the best at calming you down.

"You are so beautiful, Maus. I love you so much. Let's get the rest of this gear off and go to sleep, alright? I've got you."

And he did, he always had you. He'd never, in his life, ever let you feel like you were anything less than wonderful.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: thanks for reading!

[rae-writes]

when it's time for mc to return to their original timeline how do you think the [nightbringer] characters would react if mc told them that they were from future and it's time for them to go back to the present timeline and that they'd meet them then

The common room was silent— so silent, it sounded like the entire Devildom was sleeping all at once. There was tension so thick you could cut it by just swiping at the air- there were eleven pairs of eyes trained onto Mc; the single tear that dripped down their face was like a harsh shock wave.

"I'm sorry...but I have to leave- I have to go back to my timeline now..I'll see you again when I return, okay? I promise."

Lucifer is absolutely flabbergasted, red eyes wide as he scanned your face for any signs of humor, but you weren’t joking. His hands trembled uncharacteristically, fingers twitching as he stretched his arm out to try and grab at you; "What do you mean you have to go? Don't...your place is here, with us, you can't leave- what the hell do you mean you'll see me 'when you return', I'm me! I'm right here! Don't go-!"

Mammon doesn't fully process your words, only really catching the part where you said you had to leave. He feels nauseous and scared as he immediately begins to stammer and stumble over to you, grabbing your hand and pulling you closer so he can feel that you’re still there; "Y-you can't leave! Why would you want to leave- your home is here, you belong with us- with me- I'm right here, where are you going? Don't leave me behind! I-I need you! Please!"

Levi instantly has tears in his eyes, too preoccupied with watching you start moving away from him to realize you said you’d see him again. His tail whips out to circle your waist, arms frantically grabbing at you as he cries; "W-w-wait-! D-don't go, don't leave...did I do s-something- a-are you leaving because of m-me? I-I'll fix it, I p-promise, just please don't go..."

Satan's first instinct is to get angry- to throw a fit and throw anything in reach and scream and lash out, but he just stands there staring at you. He understands the concept of time travel and other timelines- he's read all about it- and essentially knows that he'll see you in less than a minute once you go back, and yet...; "Leaving...? You're leaving? I- I don't...I don't want you to go..don't-...just..Mc, please."

Asmo hears everything you're saying, but he just doesn't understand! He practically curls his whole body around you as he stutters through his denial, trying so hard not to cry because it would ruin his makeup; "What do you mean you're leaving, hon? Time travel is nonsense..you belong here, with us! Y-you're not actually going to leave me, right? Not me...don't leave me.."

Beel immediately panics as his thoughts run rampant about losing you and never getting to see you again, despite you assuring him that you'd see him very soon- he can't lose someone close to him again, not you- and the way he grabs onto you shows his desperation; "No! I-I mean...no, you can't leave us- why would you leave us? I thought you were at home here, with us, please...I can't lose you, too..."

Belphie, like his twin, is panicking- but he's in a hysterical panic. He breaks down into sobs and apologies right at your feet- apologizing for any time he was snippy with you and especially the time he got so mad he almost hurt you after finding out you were human- he's so sorry, just..don't leave-!; "No, no, no! You can't! You can't leave us, please, don't leave, I'm sorry! I'm sorry for everything I've done wrong to you- just don't leave me! Please, don't leave me..."

Diavolo understands the concept of what you're saying, though it's still hard for him to grasp the fact that you're leaving to go back to a different him...why couldn't you just stay with him in this 'timeline'? Didn't...didn't you still like him either way?; "What...what? Mc, I don't understand...just stay. Here. With- with me, with us, I don't...why must you go back? Don't you like it here?"

Barbatos shouldn't be worried. He knows exactly what you're talking about and what you mean by 'see you again when I return' and yet he can't help but feel at a loss, torn between letting you just walk away or trying to stop you- he doesn't want you to go back to future him...he wants you here with this him; "I...wait, Mc..don't-...don't go back. Stay, please..I know I'll remember the time we spent together here when you return, but I...I don't want to let you go.."

Simeon is in an odd state between panicked and calm. One on hand, he trusts you. If you say you promise you'll see him again- whatever that means- he believes you. But on the other hand, he's already lost so much in life and he can't possibly bear to lose you too, so he grabs you and holds on tightly; "Go? What do you mean 'go'? I...Mc...I don't want to let you go..I don't want you to leave- please stay...with us. With me."

Luke's confusion dances across his face as he latches onto your waist, firing a thousand questions at once, as fast as he can speak them; "What do you mean you're leaving? How can you see me when you 'return'- what does that even mean?! I'm the only me...and I'm right here- where...where are you going?! Don't leave me! I don't want you to go!"

bonus :

Solomon is there to wrap his arms around your waist tightly for comfort, keeping the others from coming too close; he can't let them take you away from him- won't let them convince you to stay. Your place is in your own timeline, with the present versions of them, with him. He promised he'd bring you back home with him and no one is going to stop him; "Come on, Mc...let's go. We need to go- this is what we've been working towards remember? You'll see them in less than a second once we go through the portal. I'm here with you, I'm not ever going to leave your side. You trust me don't you? Let's go home. Together."

[chalametluvrz]

dating timothee chalamet

timothee x afab!reader (mainly gn! expect on nsfw bits)

towards the start of the relationship, i think he'd be pretty anxious

he'd often find himself messing around with his hands a lot on dates

or stumbling over his words a little too much with a small giggle

if you've ever seen old interviews of him when he was younger. you know the ones where he gets all shy and giggly? that's exactly how i envision him to be with you

after some time, that's slowly replaced with his hyperactive ass

and let me tell you, boy never shuts the fuck up that's not a bad thing

because of his schedule, he rarely gets to see you in person

so whenever he does, he just has so much to tell you and so much to talk about that he just ends up coming out with a cluster-fuck of words

he always tries to facetime you at least a couple times a week

and let me tell you, the call will always start with him saying 'oh, i missed your pretty face' or 'seeing you has made my day'

boy is madly in love

and even though he hasn't said it yet, it's fairly obvious he's not hiding anything

he's the kind of person to want to keep your relationship on the down low

because if you're also famous, he wouldn't want to cause any issues or drama through tabloids

and if you aren't, he'd feel awful dragging you into the world of hollywood

eventually though, as most celeb relationships do, you got found out

someone caught you out on your 6 months anniversary

and that was it; twitter was going mental

timothee soon figured out that he probably had to say something

but honestly, he was kind of relieved he didn't have to hide you anymore

the morning you two woke up and saw yourselves going viral on twitter, there was a bit of a mad scramble between the two of you

before eventually, timothee chilled out

'but now i don't need to hide we're together, anymore. i can let the world know you're mine.' he'd say to your confusion at his relaxed state

cute but also now all of timmy's fans are stalking your instagram

cooking meals together!!!

i have a feeling timothee's love languages are more tailored towards physical touch and acts of service tell me im wrong

so cooking together is such a beautiful thing for him

as much as timothee loves taking you out, i think he'd much prefer to cook a fancy pasta dish together with wine over that any day

he also strikes me as a cosy movie date guy

but honestly, it more than likely turns into something else

don't fight me on his, he's a horny guy

like bro would get a hard-on just snuggling with you

when you first started dating, he'd get all shy about it

he'd apologise frantically and his face would be redder than ever

after dating for some time, he'd be less phased

unless you showed and expressed discomfort with it of course

after the shock of you dating slowly weaved out of the fans

timothee would definitely start posting you on his instagram

he just needed the world to know how obsessed he is with you

arguments are rare

extremely rare

they usually only happen when timothee is stressed

feelings get heated and you end up making some snippy comments at each other before one of you gets up and leaves the room

after you've both had time to cool down, you're both mature enough to talk it out and apologise for whatever each of you or one of you has done

communication is a big thing for timmy, so i think arguments are heavily avoided because he encourages you to come to him about anything

any concerns, rants and problems you have, he wants to know

he's a flirter, let me tell you that thankfully not with others

always dazzling you with compliments

you're in the crowd at a press tour? he's staring, smirking and winking at you the whole time

you're supporting him whilst he's on set? the man can't take his eyes off you and is coming to hold you the second the shot is taken

you're on facetime? every odd sentence is him saying some suggestive comment or simply how stunning you are

the man cannot get enough of you

going back to the horny thing...

he has a high sex drive

there's absolutely no doubt about it

he is a giver!!! the man aims to please!!!

could eat you out for days

i've already made a headcanon about him eating you out so i will be brief BUT!!!

he's messy!!! the wetter the better!!!

will overstimulate you with hid tongue any day

and then make sure you cum on his cock as well

you know what they say about tall, skinny boys? wink wink

i'd say he's a good 7 inches, 7 1/2 at a push

he knows how to please you, and he's eager to learn what makes you tick

even though he's mainly a dom, i can see him being a sub at times

only on rare assurances though

being his date to things like the met gala, oscars etc

after being open about your relationship, he couldn't wait to take you everywhere and anywhere with him

loves it when you wear his clothes

but i feel like all boys do?

especially when he's away, opening up a facetime call to see you sat there in one of his t-shirts. he actually thinks his heart might implode.

this boy will actually love you with his whole heart

the cutest, softest and proudest boyfriend around fr

[midnightcrw]

Provocative

Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader

Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.

Warnings: Swearing

a/n: I know it's been a long time, but I just couldn't get myself to write anything because of my finals coming up and everything else going on. I also didn't want to write a bad third part, so I only wanted to write when I had some motivation to do so. I hope you all will like it. Part 1 / Part 2

If you had known that one day you would see Mimzy again, you would have been the most holy person in your mortal days, and unfortunately, you weren't.

And as soon as everyone in the hotel registered the short woman's appearance, Lucifer dropped his grip on your hand, looking almost fearfully at your expression, which probably said more than a thousand words.

"Why is everybody gawking? Is it cuz I'm adorable?" The woman playfully said while posing as you gritted your teeth.

And not even a second later, Alastor immediately stopped holding your hand, "Mimzy!" The happiness was more than obvious in his tone.

"Alastor, sweetie, doll face!" In your mind you were already imagining how you could break every bone in her body. "How have you been? Good? Good," she said as she put her arms around your husband.

They even squeezed each other as they made contented sounds. "You good?" Lucifer whispered in your ear as you could almost feel your eye twitch.

"Splendid," you murmured back as the Ruler of Hell continued to look at you uncertainly, but your eyes never left the pair.

"I heard you were staying at this ritzy slob factory and I figured I'd stop by, say hi! For old times sake" you hated the way she talked about Charlie's hotel as the blonde walked even closer to Alastor, if that was even possible.

"Of course, Sweetheart! Everyone is welcome here" the enthusiasm still didn't leave your husband's voice as you balled your fists tightly.

"'Everyone is welcome' my ass," Lucifer muttered hatefully, squinting his eyes at the man dressed in red.

When Charlie asked how they knew each other, you tried to hold back as best you could, you knew what was coming.

And the moment Mimzy heard the question, an even bigger smile appeared on her face "Oh yeah. We go way back."

A little too far back, you thought.

"You know, this one used to frequent the club where I used to perform. He's the only one I knew who could pound whiskey like a sailor and then keep up with me on the dance floor," her theatrics continued as she did a little dance and received a compliment from Alastor.

"Ho ho, you should have seen her in her heyday," oh, how you wished you hadn't seen her then.

You remembered everything perfectly. Mimzy and Alastor knew each other before you married him, and you met her through him.

Alastor was always a huge fan of music, especially the music that was played at the club where Mimzy used to work. And one day he had had taken you out on a date. Of course you were excited at first, you had never been to that club before, you were expecting something spectacular since your husband was always talking about it.

And oh, how spectacular it was, Mimzy practically throwing herself at your husband like it was nothing. Now, you really weren't a jealous person, but the short woman brought out the worst in you.

At first you really tried to like her, but with every backhanded compliment, you began to truly despise her more and more.

It was obvious that she had a crush on Alastor, and that crush probably never really went away, or she just wanted to get you mad by sticking to him like glue.

"Oh, oh, my stars," she made her way to Lucifer as soon as she saw him, and you immediately made your way to Alastor while she was distracted.

"You never told me she was here," you said in a snippy tone as you approached him until you and him were face to face, just with you having to look up due to his height.

"My sweet, of course Mimzy would be in hell," he only said as he looked at the chubby woman who was currently engrossed in a conversation Lucifer had no interest in.

Before you could snap at him, the annoying voice was heard once more, "No way!" Mimzy shouted loudly as she made her way towards you, deliberately swaying her hips.

And before you could prepare, the short woman hugged you tightly as she stood on her tiptoes to lean closer to you, "Still the jealous little wench, I see," she snickered as you bit your tongue.

"Ah, just like old days," Alastor's smile still remained on his face as he looked at the two of you, obviously not having heard what his friend had just said to you.

I'll show you the old days, you thought when Mimzy finally let go of you. And then you all remembered that the tour of the hotel had to continue.

"Why don't you let the others help you settle in and I'll be back before you know it," your husband said to Mimzy as he took your hand and led you to Charlie and her dad.

"Behave," Alastor whispered in your ear as his static returned and you could only scoff.

"I'm the one who should behave?! Look at you!" You whispered back, even digging your nails into the hand that was currently holding yours.

And while the tension between the two of you didn't go away, Mimzy already started talking to the others at the bar.

"How ya been, fur-ball?" She asked as she leaned her elbows against the bar, holding her face up with her hands.

"Good until five minutes ago" Husk wasn't happy about the whole situation, just like you, and it was obvious, and clearly ignoring his mood, she turned around to ask what Niffty has been up to.

"I never understood why you liked her so much," you said, keeping the frown on your face as Alastor let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist while Lucifer glared at him as Charlie showed him around.

"Jealous, aren't you?" He asked with his piercing smile, having already expected this reaction from you.

"She's the last person I would be jealous of," you snapped back, but in reality you knew she was everything you were ever jealous of.

Not only was she popular, but she was beautiful and confident. All the things you couldn't see for yourself.

Suddenly, Alastor laughed, even softly, I might add, as his hand rubbed your hip, "As it should be, you have nothing to be jealous of, love," your eyes widened.

He has never called you "love" before, unless it was to get attention or to make your marriage more believable decades ago.

"Uh-huh... Thanks, pussy cat!" Mimzy said as she drank from the glass.

"Oh, fuck you" was the only thing Husk replied with as he walked away while Angel Dust made his way to the bar.

"So uh, you and Alastor are like what? Friends?"

A grin made its way across her face, "Well, that's your word, not mine, but I think it fits," Angel Dust didn't seem too convinced as he sipped from his glass, which didn't seem to make Mimzy too happy.

"Why so surprised?" She grunted as Angel Dust responded with "Well, just didn't know he had any of those. He's been here a while and is still a big, creepy mystery. I really don't know how his his wife handles him. What even is his deal?"

At the mention of you, her face fell for a split second, but she regained her composure as she began to tell them about when Alastor revealed himself as the Radio Demon.

"But underneath is all... he's a total sweetie. Put on some jazz and pour a couple fingers of rye, and he becomes a kitten!"

Sir Pentious and Angel Dust looked at her in shock, since that part didn't sound like the Overlord they knew.

And once the tour was over and they made their way back to the bar.

"There you all are! I was starting to get real bored here," Mimzy's voice was slowly starting to make you mad once more.

"Finally," Husk grunted as he wiped the glass in his hands clean while Mimzy continued to talk.

"I bet she was the reason it took so long," obviously referring to you as she glared, "Nothing's been the same since the marriage," the short woman ranted, while you rolled your eyes at her as you suddenly felt Alastor's hand graze your back.

Looking up at him, his eyes were a fraction softer for once, as you couldn't look away.

"Since the marriage?" Lucifer asked, clearly confused as to what was being discussed.

"Their marriage, of course," Mimzy said with disgust in her voice as she nodded towards you and Alastor.

"You're married?!" Lucifer yelled as you flinched at the sudden loudness, while Alastor rubbed your arm in reassurance.

Fuck... you thought.

Taglist

@l0ca1ax010t1

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@nonetheartist

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@karolinda007-blog

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@droopingdatura

[wildgeese98]

Based on their conversation in mag 17 and some of Jon's comments in season 1 I'm convinced that Jon was a constant pain in Elias's ass from the minute he started at the institute. I also think that's a big part of why Elias chose Jon to be Archivist. Just...

The way they talk to eachother, Jon is, as always, unnecessary snippy and abrasive. Elias is patient but quietly exasperated. There's a definite familiarity there. They've had many conversations like this before. Then at the end of the episode Jon says

I like to imagine that Jon's been in Elias's office at least once a week since he started badgering him about whatever case he's working on. How many times has Elias had to give the old "record and study, not interfere or contain" speech?

Im just obsessed with Jon and Elias's comfortably antagonistic pre canon relationship. Like obviously Jon respects and maybe even looks up to Elias as an authority on his chosen field. But he's also comfortable enough with him to be his unadulterated bitchy self around him.

It's harder to tell what Elias thinks of Jon since at this point he is keeping his true nature under wraps. But I like to think he's got an exasperated affection for Jon. Kind of like a pet who's constantly getting into shit but is so cute you can't truely get mad at them.

Jon is an insufferable bastard and so is Elias even though he's (kind of) pretending not to be. Knowing Elias I bet he loves arguing with Jon, probably purposely riles him up because it amuses him. Of course Jon also enjoys arguing with Elias, it's like one of his main ways of communicating. They are have an ideal bastard for bastard relationship.

I bet the first time Jon came to Elias insisting they should do more with a case he was like, yes finally, this is exactly the obnoxious little guy I've been waiting for. Yes Elias chose Jon because he was marked by the spider but I think he also chose Jon because he liked him and was a little bit obsessed with him.

[nathaslosthershit]

Red, White, and Williams' Blue (LS2)

(Part 4 of the Blind Item Series)

Summary: What happens when the American driver gets outed for dating one of Monaco's It girls who also happens to be the younger sister to one of the Ferrari drivers?

She had feared telling her brothers. She knew they would be mad. Not because they didn’t like Logan, they really didn’t know him, but she was sure they would love him in no time. But because she had sat through lecture upon lecture from her family about never dating a motorsport driver. Their logic was that they could never give her a stable life she deserved and knew she wanted. She was already stressed every race weekend praying Charles and Arthur would be okay, they had lost enough loved ones in the past, why add another? That was till she met Logan. The Florida native was unlike many she had met. He was kind, quiet, not starstruck by her last name, and very, very handsome. She was proud to be with him and was excited to eventually go public but she first needed her family to know.

When she saw the tweet, she practically felt the color drain from her face. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Tears threatened to fall when she thought of how betrayed her family must feel.

She knew she had to see them.

Quickly calling Logan to tell him what happened, as he always tried his best to stay off social media, she tells him to meet her at her mom’s house, as they had been vacationing in Monaco so she could visit family (although no one had known he was there as well).

Luckily, her mom seemed to be none the wiser when she got there, happily greeting her daughter and telling her to come in. When she entered though, she could tell her brothers had seen the photo.

“Ah, look who decided to come visit unannounced today, got anything to tell us?” Charles asked in a snippy tone.

“I am surprised your boyfriend isn’t with you. You two seem to be very close considering a photo of you two making out went viral.” Arthur added with just as much disdain

“Both of you, grow up. We don’t need to start a fight.” Enzo jumped in.

“What do you all mean? What boyfriend?” Pascale asked, confused why her children, who never spoke to each other like this, were being so sharp with each other. 

“Look, this isn’t how I wanted this to go. I wanted to tell you all but it was so new and I didn’t feel the need to say anything until it got serious. The last thing I needed was for Charles to have an enemy on the grid if it didn’t last, and by the time it turned serious I was too scared because of how long I waited.” She explained. As she did this, Enzo showed his mother the tweet that started it all. 

“You are our sister, we want to know what is going on in your life. This is a big thing to be hiding. I race with him! Admittedly, I don’t know him well enough but I do know enough about drivers in general to not want you to have to deal with them, let alone date them.” Charles said.

“It is unfair of you to keep this a secret from your family. You don’t get to make the decision about how we will feel about something for us.” Enzo added.

“I know that! Don’t you understand this wasn’t done with malicious intent? I have sat through enough talks with you guys to know how you'd feel if I dated a driver and while I hadn’t envisioned it happening, it did. I am happy with Logan and I am sorry you found out this way but I am not sorry for dating him. If you can’t be happy for me then I have no reason to be here.” She said, exacerbated. She started for the front door, ignoring her family’s protests. As she opened the door she was met with her very confused and concerned American boyfriend who was just a second away from knocking on the door. 

She was about to grab his arm and drag him off when her mom finally got to her, asking her to come back so they could have a productive conversation this time. She would have said no and continued on, but her mom greeted Logan sweetly and invited him in. She knew his southern manners would stop him from declining, especially when this was his first meeting with her mother. So, reluctantly, she followed him back inside.

Under different circumstances, she would have laughed at the shock on her brothers’ faces as Logan entered, their mother’s arm wrapped around his as she dragged lead him in. 

“We are going to start over, and you three are going to be hospitable to our guest.” Was all Pascale said as she let go of Logan and stared her three boys down. 

No one knew what to say, the uncomfortable look on Logan’s face hurt her to see, as she was the reason he was here, she had needed him and he had come rushing, no questions asked. 

“Well, I would have rather met you before I saw a picture of you making out with my sister blasted all over social media.” Arthur teased, getting a smack on the back of the head by Charles. It wasn’t necessarily unkind, his words didn’t drip with anger or disgust, okay maybe a little bit of disgust, but that was a start. 

“I apologize for that, I can promise you that however grossed out or uncomfortable you are doesn’t even come close to the amount of embarrassment I feel so I am atoning for my actions.” Logan joked. She could see how embarrassed he truly was though, he was a private person in most respects, minus his taste for showing off his abs, this was far too much for him. 

Luckily, her family laughed at that. But she could tell that they were about to get serious again.

“Are you good to her?” Charles asked.

“I think that's a question for her to answer.” Logan replied. She gave him a mental high five for that response, knowing it would please her family.

“He is amazing. He is kind and very gentlemanly.” She answered.

“I think that photo would suggest otherwise, his hands are far too low. But I am glad to hear that” Enzo teased. 

After a few more tense minutes of interrogation, her brother’s seemed to back off, content with his responses. 

“How are you two going to handle all the gossip?” Arthur asked.

She hasn’t thought of how she would address the rest of the world, too preoccupied with her family. Dred filled her again once she realized all she still had to do.

“Maybe you guys could help us with that?” Logan said, an idea already formed. 

logansargeant

logansargeant Whoops, sorry about that folks ✌🏻

charles_leclerc added to their story

charles_leclerc Yes we are aware this boy is dating our sister and we approve…somewhat. 

A/N: I had to add the last photo of Logan and i am not sorry. Love y'all

Part 2: Oh Brother(s) - If you want more of this duo (and her annoying brothers)

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Crucial aspect of Ed and Stede as a couple that we learned in s2 is they can NOT stay mad at each other. They might try but they just can't do it. At worst they're gonna be a little bit catty and snippy with each other, but Ed's big sad eyes and his cute little grumpy face and Stede's earnest whimsy are gonna break down walls in no time. They just want to have fun with each other and enjoy each other's company so they just can't stand being upset with each other.

All their fights as a couple are gonna be like. Ed's got his arms crossed and he's sulking and pouting SO hard but he keeps inching closer. Pretends it's a coincidence and he just wants to sit next to Stede on the couch because that's his favorite seat in the house. The first thing Stede does after an argument is make tea because he knows it'll help them both feel better once they calm down. They're holding each other's hands and sitting with their backs to each other because they get sad when they fight and they hate thinking about the other one being sad.

Within twenty minutes Ed's going to say something like "you know. if you were actually a mermaid you'd be nicer to me." And Stede would be all "well you don't know that. I've read some stories about mermaids that are real dicks." And Ed's like "well you were a real dick just now. and so was I, I guess." But then Stede would be like "hey. hey. we mermaid for each other. D'you get it" and Ed would go "... :3" and then they'd forget about whatever their little spat was in the first place because they'd be too busy making out

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (10/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: It's dinner time. Time to find new friends, since your roommate decides to treat you like shit.

Warnings: fluff, angst (whoops), asshole!Charles, alcohol consumption, Google translated French, swear words

Word Count: 3.9k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: a podium part! grande, Charlie! feedback is appreciated

Charles' mood has deteriorated quite a bit between his lunch and his return. 

Funny, easy-going Charles, who would have loved to drive to dinner with you in potato sacks, is now sitting next to you in the Renault and the silence is deafening. Not a word does he say, but at least he's not crushing the leather of the steering wheel with his hands like yesterday. He doesn't just sit there like a statue, but in every now and then he rubs his forehead, runs his hand through his hair, or twists the rings on his long fingers. 

The fact that he looks and behaves like a real person and not a sculpture calms you down a bit, but the stress is still clearly visible in his face. At least he looks more approachable, like you could talk to him. Like he needs someone to talk to about what happened.

Determined to get him out of his foul mood, you turn in his direction on the seat so you can look at him properly. "You want to talk about it?"

Your roommate clenches his jaws even tighter and exhales loudly, as if annoyed by your question. Good start to a conversation. "About what?" He stares ahead, propping his elbow against the car door as he steers the vehicle with his right hand. 

You furrow your eyebrows. "About whatever is going on inside you right now."

He gives a short laugh, but it sounds spiteful and not at all like the Charles you know. "It's none of your business." 

So at this point you've both arrived again, how nice. Your gaze moves from his eyes, to his nose, to his mouth, and you try to read his expression, but find only irritation and displeasure. Finally, you lower your gaze to your hands folded in your lap. "At least pull yourself together for your friends. Otherwise you'll screw up everyone's evening with your bad mood," it slips out of you.

"I won't."

He knows that you know that something is wrong. And if he wanted to talk about it, he would have answered differently than so snippy and irritated, so annoyed. But apparently he'd rather sit grimly next to you and take out his frustration on you, which would be fine with you if you knew the reason. 

You can't help him if you don't know what it's about, and you'd love to grab Charles by the shoulders and shake him until he comes clean. But you're afraid he's not one to be talked down to or pushed into something he doesn't want to do, so you let it go at that. If he wants to talk, he knows where to find you.

You don't know the restaurant Charles stops the car in front of, but it looks beautiful from the outside with the ivy vines winding around lamps and awnings. Some of the tables inside are occupied and even from the car you can tell that the food on the plates looks delicious. 

As you unbuckle your seatbelt and reach for the door handle, your roommate doesn't move a bit. "You go on in. I'll park the car and catch up with you." He doesn't even look at you, but clenches his jaw and waits for you to exit the car. So you just nod at him and get out. 

You're about to ask him what name the table is reserved in, when he leans over the center console and closes the passenger door from the inside before sitting down normally and speeding off, disappearing around the next corner. He leaves you on the side of the road, and the wintry evening wind swirls around you so coldly that you can't be mad at him, but enter the restaurant directly, where you stop at the hostess's counter. 

"Bonsoir," she greets you with a friendly smile, typing away briefly on the iPad in her hand. "Avez-vous réservé une table?" good evening. have you reserved a table?

In your mind, you give Charles a pat on the back of the head. Couldn't he have waited a moment longer? 

Behind you, the glass door opens and other guests enter the restaurant. You press your lips together. "Bonsoir. Une table est réverée, mais je ne sais pa à quel nom," you try to say in your best French, and apparently the hostess even understands you. good evening. a table is reserved, I just don't know what name.

The friendly hostess opens her mouth, but before she can say anything, a slender hand rests on your shoulder. "Je crois qu'elle est avec nous." I think she's with us. Confused, you turn around and look into giant brown eyes. "Y/N, right?" The woman in front of you is so beautiful that you can only nod mutely. Smiling, she takes her hand off your shoulder and looks at the hostess. "La table est réservée au nom Gasly." the table is reserved in the name of gasly. 

Behind her stands a young man with one hand resting loosely on her hip. He smiles at you as he notices your puzzled look. "We're Charles' friends. I'm Pierre and this is-"

"Kika," the brunette grins, interlocking her arm with yours, "nice to meet you. Where's Charles?" she asks as the three of you follow the hostess who takes you to a long, set table. There are individual chairs on one side, with padded booths across from them. 

You shrug your shoulders. "He's parking the car. I should go in already."

"Ah." Pierre pulls one of the chairs back so Kika can sit down - a gentleman, that is - but she just shakes her head. 

"Girls belong on the booths, Pierre," she says, and before you know it, you're sitting side by side at one end of the table. "So, Charles said you're a photographer?"

Charles. English pronunciation. Somehow it sounds strange, so out of place for the Monegasque. The fact that his friends pronounce his name so differently unsettles you, as does the fact that he seems to have been talking about you to his friends. But if Charles's friends call him Charles and not Scharl, then it must be right, no?

You nod. "Right."

Kika picks up her purse and sets it next to her on the bench. "How cool! So where do you work?"

Before you can answer - you wouldn't even know what exactly, to be honest - Charles pops up behind Pierre, who's sitting across from Kika. "What are you talking about?" He puts both hands on his friend's shoulders and squeezes them briefly before standing next to him at the table and leaning over.

"We're talking shit about you," Kika jokes, also leaning over the table so that the two of them can kiss each other on the cheek. In contrast to just now, he actually seems changed, just like yesterday when you went to Joris. It's almost creepy how well he can mask his feelings. 

"Doesn't surprise me," your roommate replies with a smile and sits down on the free chair facing you. But he doesn't acknowledge you at all. 

Is he ignoring you? Did you do something wrong during the time he wasn't home that he doesn't pay attention to you now? Or is he angry because you just gave him a piece of your mind? If it's the latter, then he can go to hell. 

But maybe it's the former. Maybe you shouldn't have written him while he was gone. Just picked out clothes, got ready, and waited for him. Maybe you misjudged the friendship. 

You make yourself smaller next to Kika, almost invisible, and watch as more and more people join the small group. They all introduce themselves briefly, but you immediately forget their names as they sit down. The seat next to you remains empty, for which you are somewhat grateful. But the fact that the person you know best here gives you the cold shoulder makes you feel uneasy - 

- and suddenly you are ten years old again, in the back seat of your father's car, trying to breathe shallowly so as not to provoke a sudden choleric fit in him. 

You avert your eyes from the people and study the menu, on which the actually not-so-expensive dishes are written, so you don't even notice how someone else joins the group until your name comes up. 

"Y/N?"

You look up and see the blue eyes of your helpful stranger from this afternoon. This time, however, he is wearing a white shirt, which greatly accentuates his tanned skin, the top two buttons are undone despite the weather, and light-colored pants hang from his hips. On his head, instead of a cap, are now brown curls that hang a bit in his forehead. 

You'd be lying if you said he wasn't incredibly handsome. And as you look at him, his smile widens.

The feeling from just now has fizzled out as you stand up and walk towards him. As you face each other, he spreads his arms, wraps them around your middle, and squeezes your body tightly against him. "I didn't think we'd meet again so soon." His arms are so long that his hands are on your sides while you have your arms around his neck. You're so close you can breathe in his scent. 

"Is this a good thing or a bad thing?" you ask him as you pull away from each other, but his hands remain on your hips. He looks down at you. 

"You two know each other?" 

You turn around, feeling Lando's hands slide off you, and behind you stands Charles, who looks at you with a look you can't interpret. Apparently you're talking to each other again. 

Uncertainly, you look from him to Lando. "Yes. We met at the grocery store this afternoon."

"She was shopping for her roommate," Lando continues, then points to Charles, who smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "So you're the roommate, I guess?" He looks back at you and smiles. "I knew Charles had a roommate, but I didn't know she was that beautiful."

"And bam, there went my hunger," Kika calls out to you, rolling his eyes playfully. 

Embarrassed, you look back to Lando, whose gaze is already on you. "Shall we?"

To your amazement, Lando sits down in the empty seat next to you and not with his friends. He pulls your menu over a bit, even though his own is right in front of him, and scoots a bit closer to you so you can browse the dishes together. 

"So," he finally says, leaning back. "I'm afraid I can't find any canned soup."

You nudge him with your shoulder. "I'll eat something else, too."

"There's no BigMac on here, either."

Before you can shove him off the bench, Charles interjects. "Canned soup? BigMac?"

Lando nods. "We found out today at the supermarket that Y/N's culinary journey ended somewhere between canned soup and BigMac." He points his index finger at a spot on the menu. "Ah, look. Kids' plate, with fries and chicken nuggets. How about it?"

You roll your eyes. "I think I'll order the carbonara."

"Ohhhh. Are we venturing out of our comfort zone?"

"Shut up, you dumbass," you say, playfully annoyed, and are glad to see the waitress come to the table shortly after, taking both drink and food orders. You ignore Charles' cold stare.

Kika taps you on the thigh. "You two know each other already, too?" She points to you and Lando, who has risen briefly to greet someone at the other end of the table. 

"Since noon today, to be exact." The waitress puts the drinks on the table. Coke for Kika and you, and a beer each for the three guys sitting with you. "I went shopping and couldn't find some things. He was kind enough to help me find them."

"You didn't tell me that." Charles tone is as cold as his gaze. You would have preferred him not to talk to you at all. You don't like this Charles. Not at all.

You don't know what you've done that he can be so friendly and lighthearted toward others, but act completely idiotic toward you. But you definitely don't let that happen to you. "I had to go to another supermarket because ours doesn't have some of the things you wanted." You raise an eyebrow and shrug. "Lando helped me find the sesame seeds and chili flakes."

"That's very kind of him." Charles's expression is impenetrable, but anyone who knows Charles even a little can pick out the underlying sarcasm.

You smile at him sugary sweet. "Yeah, right? He even walked me home and carried the bag."

Kika, whose gaze bounces back and forth between you like a tennis match, is glad Charles doesn't respond, just rolls his eyes. "And you two have only been living together for two days, right? What's it like having a roommate?"

Your gaze wanders to Charles, expecting a snarky comment or whatever he would come up with to put you down right now. But the opposite is true. His previously serious expression softens, his shoulders don't seem so tense anymore, and the little smile around his mouth makes your heart skip a beat, even though he was acting pretty out of line until just now. He's looking at you - really looking at you. This is Charles right here. Your Charles. 

"Y/N Is the best roommate you could ever ask for," he replies, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks. "She's kind, considerate, and so funny. I couldn't ask for a better one."

You're definitely still going to talk about what's happened so far this evening, and you're definitely going to throw words back in his face about how dare he ignore you for half the evening. But right now, you're too relieved that Charles is Charles again that you can't even be mad. 

Kika pokes you in the side. "So what's Charles like?"

"Charles," you begin, but don't quite know how to answer. Charles is so much more than your roommate. He's your savior in times of need. Your confidant. Your friend. He's that warm feeling that spreads through you when you're together. 

Charles is everything. 

When you say his name, he barely noticeably screws up his face. 

"You can go ahead and say he's an asshole," Pierre grins, catching Charles' fist directly as he gently punches him in the shoulder. 

"Does he leave his dirty socks everywhere? We were all on vacation together once and you couldn't enter his hotel room without stepping on his dirty laundry," comes Max, sitting next to Pierre and thankfully far enough away that he only gets a nasty look. 

"Or does he take too long to style his hair? Ouch!" Kika rubs his shin and gives Charles a venomous look. "What? You take longer in the bathroom than I do in some cases!"

"You're all soooooo funny." Your roommate leans back in his chair and clasps his hands behind his head. The sleeves of his shirt stretch across his muscles. He winks at you. "I'm the very best roommate."

You take a sip of Coke and look at him over the rim of your glass, grinning. "The jury's still out."

Several waiters bring the food and the conversation takes its course. The carbonara tastes delicious and the conversation between Kika, Charles, Lando, Pierre and Max changes topics so frequently that you can't keep up with questions and laughter. In the meantime, Kika asks for your number "so you can talk to someone other than Charles" and you are infinitely grateful to have found a friend in her. 

The small group you are in seems like a small family and as much as they include you in everything, you feel like a part of it. A feeling that is foreign to you, but doesn't feel strange.

You knew that Charles must have such great friends. But you didn't expect them to accept you directly as part of their group. 

The plates are getting emptier, the conversations are getting louder, and people are changing their seats to be able to talk to others. Charles has gotten up to sit down three seats away, but not before asking you if it's okay if he leaves you alone for a moment, whereupon Kika has wrapped her slender arm around your shoulder, saying, "Don't worry, Charles. Y/N is in good hands with me". 

In between, he still gives you glances as if to ask if everything is okay, to which you just smile and nod. 

"So, was the carbonara better than canned soup?" Lando takes a sip of his beer.

"Nothing comes close to my favorite canned soup," you joke, "but I have to admit, I didn't know pasta could taste so great."

The Brit laughs up. "I saw that. All that was missing was you licking the plate."

You cross your arms in front of your chest and act offended. "Would it have surprised you?"

"Definitely not." He slips his tongue into his cheek, which is much more attractive than it should be. "So, about dinner-"

From across the table, someone calls his name and you notice him hesitate to get up, but the guys wave him over energetically. 

Lando looks at you. "Is it okay if I just-"

You wave him off and put a hand on his shoulder. "It's all good. Go ahead and see your friends. It's definitely not the last time we'll talk."

He reaches for your hand on his shoulder and presses a fleeting kiss to its knuckles before standing up. He doesn't let go of your hand until the distance between you grows too far. "See you in a bit."

Before you can realize what just happened, Kika catches your attention by scooting close to you. "What was that about?"

Your gaze lingers on Lando, who slaps his buddy on the shoulder and then sits down on a free chair there. He glances back at you and winks before turning to his friends. "I have no idea." 

As you turn toward Kika, Charles catches your gaze. Despite the dim lighting in the restaurant, you can see that his cheeks are flushed, almost certainly due to the beer. His smile is warm and infectious, and as you smile back he stands up and makes his way over to you. 

As he plops down in the seat next to you, he's still smiling. "Hi."

"Hi yourself."

Your roommate bites his lower lip and nervously twirls the rings on his fingers, and you wish you could have grabbed his hands and intertwined your fingers with his. But even though everything seems to be fine between you again, you have a relatively poor grasp on him, which is why you let it go.

"Listen," he begins, turning his whole body to face you, "I'm sorry I was so shitty to you." He looks down at your hands. "You - you were so understanding and kind and you just wanted to help and I treated you like crap. And you definitely didn't deserve that." When he looks you in the eye again, his gaze is soft and there's something sparkling in his green eyes that makes him look so young you melt. 

Pull yourself together. 

"It's okay," you reply, taking a sip of your Coke to wash down the lump in your throat. 

"It's not. I don't know what got into me, but my behavior wasn't okay." He takes a deep breath, as if he needs to buy time to think about his next words. "I, um, was with my ex and-"

"Charles," you interrupt him gently, and he barely flinches. But you're so close that, of course, you can't miss it. "You don't have to tell me if you're not ready for it. You don't have to tell me at all if you don't want to. But if you're ever that mean to me again and don't give me a reason, I'll kill you in your sleep."

Charles smile turns into a grin. "Then I guess I'll sleep with one eye open now." He takes a big swig of his beer. A drop of it escapes his lips and runs out of the corner of his mouth toward his chin. When he catches it with his tongue, you have to look away for a moment. "I wasn't lying, by the way. You're actually the best roommate anyone could ever ask for."

"Stop it."

"I'm serious." He puts his beer down and looks at you. "We've known each other for two days - two days - but somehow I feel like we've known each other forever, you know what I mean?" You can only nod in response. "And I've never had that feeling with anyone." He takes a deep breath. "And I also think I can tell you everything, which is why I really need to tell you that I-"

"Charles!" The guy the roommates had been talking to until recently sits down in the vacant chair across from you. "I heard about Annika, by the way. I'm really sorry."

In all your life, you've never witnessed how quickly the mood can turn. 

The easy-going Charles, the warm, friendly Charles, is gone as quickly as a shooting star. His body is tense to bursting, his fingers are clawing at his pants, and his jaws are clenched so tight you fear he's breaking his teeth. He doesn't even breathe. 

Is Annika his ex? The one he was probably with today? Is that why he was in a bad mood?

He doesn't breathe, for a minute he hasn't taken a breath, just stares ahead, through the guy who apparently realized his choice of subject was absolute shit. Charles isn't present, as if he's on another star. Like he's short-circuiting. But by God, the man needs to breathe before he turns blue.

Without giving it much thought, you press your knee against his. You're so focused on helping him that you ignore the heat of his skin burning through the layers of fabric, and the goosebumps spreading all over your body, and the closeness you've never felt with anyone before, even though there are two pairs of jeans between you. You focus only on him, on making him breathe again.

Until he pulls his knee away. Like you've burned him, electrocuted him. As if you had crossed a line. And for a moment your heart stops because you think you've done everything wrong. 

But then he presses his knee against yours again, more than that, he moves a little closer to you, so that not only your knees but also your thighs touch. Fire spreads through your veins even though your skin isn't even touching, but just being near him, this familiarity, causes lightning to twitch through your veins into your brain and your thoughts to stop. All you feel is heat. All you feel is Charles. 

Charles next to you takes a deep breath, but you're too absorbed by him to realize he's looking down at you. "I'm alright. I have everything I need."

next part

[magicalqueennightmare]

Things Change

Daryl Dixon x Reader

This started as a drabble about Daryl wanting to know where the rest of your tattoos are....it became this. Enjoy

Warnings: Violence, cursing, slightly suggestive at the end

"Flirtationship" that's what Maggie called whatever was between you and Daryl. You weren't sure what to call it. One minute it seemed like he was near admitting something then he'd shut back down. You knew you were friends but then there were times he'd get jealous when some of the transplants from Woodsbury would talk to you too long or get a little snippy if you went on a run with someone else. You knew one thing for certain, you weren't breaking first.

You slowly walked through the abandoned store, careful of every step you took. Michonne was two aisles over and Daryl was somewhere under the same roof. So far the three of you had gotten lucky, only two walkers had been hiding within the shadows of the old Piggly Wiggly.

This run had gone pretty well. You'd worked on the supply list for Hershel and had picked up pretty much everything actually.

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

You made it to the end of the aisle and Michonne stood there with a mischievous looking grin and her hand behind her back "What ya got?" You asked and she pulled her hand out to reveal two protein bars "The last two peanut butter ones"

You took one with a little giggle of delight. As the two of you tore into the treats you heard Daryl's footsteps behind you before he said "You sound like a damn chipmunk girl" you glanced over your shoulder at him "Don't be mad cause you didn't get one"

He stepped up close enough his chest was tight against your back. With one hand on your hip he leaned down and whispered in your ear "I could always do this" and before you could ask what he'd reached around you with his other hand and snapped a piece of the protein bar off and popped it into his mouth.

You gasped dramatically "Daryl Dixon! Stealing from a helpless woman" he shook his head "Woman, yeah. Helpless? hell no, you ain't.

Michonne shook her head and laughed "Did both of you finish your lists?" You nodded and Daryl did too so She waved towards the door "Lets get back"

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

The three of you walked together back towards the front of the store and passed a still intact magazine rack. You stopped to examine a tattoo one.

As you flipped through Michonne leaned over your shoulder looking as well. "There's some nice ink in here" you commented and she shrugged "I like your tattoos myself" Daryl looked from you to her "The rose on her arm?"

Michonne cut her eyes at you, a slight smirk working its way onto her face then shook her head "No, her other ones" "Other ones?" Daryl asked with a raised eyebrow so you tossed the magazine down and quickly changed the subject to needing to get back to the prison before everyone started worrying about the three of you.

You didn't miss how Daryl's eyes flicked across your body like he was trying to figure out where you were hiding the other tattoos, causing a trail of heat to raise across your skin as if his touch had followed his eyes but eventually he nodded "Yeah, let's get going"

A few days later you were helping Carol cook in the center of the yard and felt more than heard someone walk up behind you even before a smile worked its way onto her face. "Hey Daryl" you spoke without turning around.

She looked a little more than amused because you'd told her about the whole him questioning the location of your other tattoos thing. He bumped your shoulder with his "Wanna get out the fence for a while? Was gonna go hunt"

You cut your eyes at Carol and she nodded "I've got it covered" you turned your head slightly to look at Daryl who was standing close enough to your back he was nearly touching you "I'm gonna go grab my bow and my gun. Meet ya at the gate?" He nodded so you turned to walk off.

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

Daryl watched you walk away then looked back at Carol who was watching him with a grin. "What?" She shook her head "Nothing. You're kinda obvious though"

"About what?" She shook her head again and went back to turning the food. He stood there for a minute and considered just walking off but ever since you and Michonne had mentioned your other tattoos the thought hadn't left his mind just where those other tattoos were. He shouldn't he thinking this hard about it.

"Carol.." he started but she cut him off "Yes, I know where all her tattoos are. No, I'm not telling you. And the thing you're obvious about is that you're head over heels for her and can't figure out how to approach it. She won't bite, well i mean she might if you ask her to"

"I didn't...I'm not..." he stammered, feeling his face warm but about that time he heard your voice echo across the yard "DAMMIT DIXON. DON'T KEEP A WOMAN WAITING"

Carol looked back at him and started laughing at the look on his face "Go catch up with her. You and me both know she'll go out on her own" "Yeah, I'll catch ya later" he mumbled before heading towards the gate where you stood with your bow over your shoulder.

So far the only thing you and Daryl had managed was a half dozen squirrels, two rabbits and to kill four walkers.

You were walking shoulder to shoulder with him, careful of every step to avoid unnecessary noise. You could feel his eyes on you every now and then but assumed it was the usual "making sure you're walking right" watching.

"Think we'll luck out and find bigger game or should we just try finding a few more rabbits then head back?" You asked, turning to face him and nearly ran right into his chest.

His bow was in his right hand so his left went to your hip to steady your footing "We can make another loop to check for deer tracks" he answered and you nodded slowly, a little too focused on how tightly his hand was gripping you and on how fast your heart had started beating when he'd grabbed you there.

You took a step back making his hand fall away, readjusting your own bow in your grip "Yeah. Let's get on it"

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

He hadn't missed the way your eyes had got wider when he'd grabbed your hip so your footing wouldn't slide. This thing between the two of you was getting harder to deny.

You took a few steps ahead of him then looked back "ya coming?" He nodded "Yeah, I'm coming" the two of you continued your way through the woods, looking for any movement that could bring meat to the prison.

There was one particular transplant from Woodsbury that was on very thin ìce with Rick. Like one complaint and you were fairly certain he'd catch a bullet and get thrown to the walkers at the gate.

Francis Martin. He was a lawyer pre fall and apparently still considered himself better than other people. Even Hershel wasn't too particularly fond of him. What was worse? He was misogynistic as hell.

He couldn't understand why Rick had so many women in the group that he trusted and respected the way he did you, Michonne, Maggie and Carol. Beth was luckily still young enough to be under his radar a bit.

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

You and Maggie were working with a few of the women from Woodsbury. Some of them had no knowledge of self defense or basic weapon training so you were doing what you could.

Glenn had of course volunteered if the two of you needed someone to show how to fight with. He was slightly taller than Maggie and had a few inches on you.

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

You were showing one woman how to tuck her hand to throw a punch when you heard someone laugh and looked up to see Francis leaned against the wall watching. "Something funny Martin?" He waved a hand around "This"

You saw Glenn out the corner of your eye and shook your head slightly. As much as you loved Glenn for being protective you didn't need a man coming to your rescue because he'd never back off. You took a step towards Francis "What's funny about it? Your governor never taught them self defense or weapons training. We're trying to help them have a chance at surviving"

He pushed off the wall and took a step towards you "Women teaching women survival. It's a joke honey" you felt yourself bristle at him calling you honey. "I haven't seen you lift a damn finger to help anything. You haven't taken a guard shift, haven't helped the farming section, you damn sure don't hunt. You don't clean the kills. You don't cook. You don't help with laundry. You don't help with the water supply. You don't help with the solar panels we scavenged. What do you do?"

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

You could feel a crowd growing and knew Glenn had more than likely summoned Rick or went in search of him but you weren't taking your eyes off the sorry excuse for a man in front of you. "And you do so much? I always see you hanging off Dixon" he spat and without thinking you swung, connecting a solid punch to his jaw. He staggered a bit then spit out a mouthful of blood "You're gonna regret that you little bitch"

"Make me regret it" He recovered and swung, landing a punch to your jaw. It was a solid hit but not hard. You'd been hit a helluva lot harder. You spit the little blood it caused from your teeth slicing your lip out "That was weak"

You kicked out and it connected with his knee. He went down and you started to walk off but heard one of the women Alice scream for you to watch out. You side stepped the knife in enough time it just barely grazed your arm.

You jumped back out of his arm's reach, a shocked laugh escaping you "A fucking knife? Really" you heard Rick's voice but didn't move your eyes off the threat. "RICK, THIS FUCKING MANIAC IS TRYING TO KILL ME"

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

Rick appeared over your shoulder "Francis put the knife down and you might walk away from this" "Not before I kill that bitch" Francis seemed like he was fucking possessed, the fragility of the male ego mixed with the stress of the apocalypse?

"Fair enough" you heard Daryl's voice right before a crossbow bolt landed dead center of Francis' left eye.

He dropped like a rock. Rick grabbed your shoulder and turned you to face him "Are you ok?" You nodded "I'm fine" his eyes raked across your body before landing on your bleeding arm "He cut you" you shook your head "Barely a graze"

He leveled you with a look so you sighed "I'll go see Hershel" he nodded "Good girl" then looked around "It's getting late. Everyone head inside. Me and Daryl will clean up"

You cut your eyes at Daryl who looked from your split lip to your arm. "You good?" You nodded "Asshole just caught me off guard with the knife and trying to make sure he didn't hurt anyone else"

Rick nodded "We need to reevaluate everyone from Woodsbury" you shook your head "he was the only weakling. It's solid now" both men studied you for a moment then nodded "Go get stitched up then head to bed" Rick said and you nodded "Yes sir" then headed inside.

Once you headed inside Rick looked at Daryl "Are you good?" "Yeah" Daryl answered quickly but Rick wasn't buying it that easily. He'd seen the anger in his friend's eyes when Francis had threatened you, mixed with how little hesitation he'd had with putting him down with the entire yard filled with people.

Rick studied him for moment before speaking again "I missed it too. I'm just as guilty for her getting hurt" when Daryl didn't say anything he added "Why don't you go talk to her when we get through here?"

Daryl finally looked up at that, "About what?" Rick raised an eyebrow "You didn't hesitate. Nothing would've stopped you from putting him down. Not because he was dangerous to everyone here but because he was threat to her directly. That means something. I think it's time you two figure out what"

Daryl just grunted in reply before kicking Francis' body "Lets get this asshole out"

You finally made it into your cell and collapsed across the cot. Your mind was going a little too much for your liking.

After you'd gotten cleaned up you'd made your way to Hershel for stitches. While you'd been sitting on top of the table in the main area people had started trickling in. First it was your group. Carl and Beth with Judith in tow. Then Michonne and Carol, ever the protectors they were. Then came Glenn and Maggie.

Your group hadn't affected you. You were family which meant you were used to all of you checking on each other if an injury happened.

What bothered you was the Woodsbury women. The ones who talked about Francis. How uncomfortable he'd made them. Comments and actions you hadn't noticed. You shouldn't shoulder the burden alone, it was the apocalypse but you felt responsible because like it or not too much of your attention had been on Daryl and the question of what were the two of you.

The guilt of if Francis had hurt someone was unbearable. You knew you had to talk to Daryl, lay your cards on the table and let them fall where they may but that didn't mean you had to like it.

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

You were half asleep when you heard a light tap on the bars. Your eyes flew open and your knife was in your hand before your brain caught up completely.

You recognized the shadow outside your cell immediately and relaxed, leaning up to lay your knife on the top bunk "Come in Daryl" you said it loud enough he could hear you but still low enough to not disturb anyone else.

He pushed the door of your cell open then pushed past the orange shower curtain you'd scavenged a while back for privacy. He pulled the cell door closed behind him then leaned against the wall just inside the door.

"How ya feeling?" He asked, eyes going to your arm where it still rested half across your face. You ran a finger down the bandage "Ten stitches. Hershel gave me the usual aftercare of keep em as clean as possible, change my bandages and when to take em out"

He nodded slowly as you sat up then scooted back so your back was against the wall then you patted the bed next to you "Cmon Dixon. Sit down" he laid his crossbow down next to your bow then sat down next to you, ducking his head.

Once he was through moving around in a bid to get comfortable you saw his hand reach out for your injured arm so you let him take it. His fingers lightly grazed the bandage "You kicked his ass even before I showed up" you laughed lightly despite the guilt you felt and leaned your head over on his shoulder "Yeah, thanks for that by the way" he nodded, "I got your back. Always"

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

After a moment he tucked you under his chin and you wanted nothing more than to curl up against him and ignore the guilt, the conversation that needed to happen but you couldn't.

"Daryl, he'd been harassing the Woodbury women. Worse than I realized" "That ain't your fault" he offered but you shook your head "I've been distracted"

He pulled back to look down at you "You ain't never gotten distracted easy" you stared at him for a moment then felt the tips of your ears warm. Was he that oblivious?

"Hell I only swung first because he said all I do is hang off you" at that Daryl laughed "Carol says I follow you around" you laughed lightly. His hand came up to brush your hair back from your face and your heart flipped in your chest. "You take care of everyone you can as much as you can. Don't feel guilt for what that asshole did"

You swallowed hard then smiled "I'll try not to" you hadn't realized you'd been staring into each other's eyes until Daryl shook his head and looked away "Ya want me to let you get some sleep?" "No" you replied without thinking and it was nearly comical how fast his eyes came back to yours.

You shrugged "I like being around you. I feel comfortable and safe" he nodded and you thought that was all would be said until he asked "That all it is?" And you were stunned with the forwardness from Daryl of all people "No, it's not" you admitted and he smiled "Good. Cause that's not all it is for me either"

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

You laughed and started to lay your head back over before a thought occurred to you, "Still curious about the tattoos?" His smile turned into a smirk "Yeah?"

You climbed off the cot, Daryl watching you carefully. You took your boots off and set them next to the bed and when you unzipped your jeans, the look in his eyes made your stomach do that little flutter thing. You slid your jeans down off your hips and laid them on the top bunk leaving you in just your panties and tshirt.

You were nervous because you liked Daryl. He was one of your closest friends and how you felt about him well honestly you were fairly certain you hadn't ever had feelings like that for anyone even before the world ended. You weren't a blushing virgin either though.

He was quiet for a moment then moved up to the edge of the cot and held a hand out. You took his hand and he used it to pull you to him "Can I?" He asked and you nodded.

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

Daryl watched as you slipped your jeans off, the moment your legs were free of the denim the ink came into view. It started at your hip and ran down the full length of your right leg down to your ankle, twisting and turning. Vines, roses and different flowers decorated your skin along with a few other designs hidden that blended in.

It was gorgeous and fit you well. He moved up to the edge of the cot and reached a hand for you, hoping like hell you'd take it and when you did he pulled you to him. "Can I?" He asked, nodding towards your leg and you nodded so he leaned forward letting his fingers trace across the patterns inked into your skin "Why ya been hiding this?"

"Even in the Georgia heat shorts aren't really practical" you replied, resting your hands on his shoulders as he explored the tattoo further. When his thumb brushed a little higher on your thigh a light sigh escaped you and he grinned to himself. Did he really have that effect on you?

He looked up at you and you smiled "Whend ya get em?" "Eighteenth birthday. Got in a pretty bad wreck at fifteen. Dad was driving and walked away without a scratch. I had four surgeries and pins in my leg which left lots of scars. He felt like shit because he ran a red"

He nodded slowly, fingers still trailing across your leg "Looks good" you smiled again "Thank you" he leaned forward and let his lips just barely brush against the rose that was on the bend on your hip, nearly hidden under your panty line and you sucked in a harsh breath "Daryl"

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

You knew he was doing it on purpose when he looked up at you "Somethin wrong?" "So we're doing this? Us?" You asked and he nodded "If you want it, I do" you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth chewing on it and saw the look in his eyes. He was as turned on as you were. "We'll have to be quiet"

He grinned "We can try but the kids are upstairs at least" you started to roll your eyes but he leaned up to press another kiss to your leg, this one a little higher and you gasped "Damn you Daryl" he laughed against your skin "You can cuss me all you want woman as long as you keep saying my name like that"

[multi-fandoms-posts]

Since Charles and Erik were acting like complete idiots earlier, I decided to sleep in the other room. But somehow I regret it a little, but only a little. I love them both very much, but sometimes they really are idiots.

I just got out of the shower. "Hello, darling," grins Charles.

Charles and Erik are sitting on the bed. "What do you want?" I ask, slightly annoyed. Charles and Erik look at each other briefly. "Isn't it obvious, love?" Erik grins. "I told you, I don't want to see you tonight," I say.

It's kind of hot the way the two of them are sitting on the bed. Right now, all I want is for them to fuck me until I don't know my own name anymore. My mind is racing just thinking about it.

Charles puts two fingers to his temple and smiles while Erik takes a sip of his drink.

"What is, Charles?" I ask. "You're lying, darling," Charles grins. I look at him in confusion for a moment before I realize he's reading my mind.

"Get out of my mind, Xavier," I growl. "Oh, our girl is snippy," Erik grins. "Darling, should I show Erik what's going on in your sweet head?" Charles says, grinning.

I blush because I know exactly what he's talking about. Charles turns to Erik and pulls him into a kiss. Charles puts two fingers on his temple again. Erik moans into the kiss and Charles grins.

It's hot when the two kiss. I notice how I'm getting more and more aroused and the wetness is gathering between my legs. I look down a little and see their erections and let out a little whimper.

"You have such dirty thoughts," Erik grins as he pulls away from Charles. I rub my legs together to get some kind of friction. "Our girl is turned on," Erik grins. "Are you still mad or are you coming to us, darling?" Charles asks. Without thinking, I drop the towel and climb into bed with them both. "You look so beautiful, love," Erik says lustfully. "It's going to be a long night, darling," Charles says lustfully.

[half-oz-eddie]

🎁 ❤️

Max was not supposed to be in Billy’s room. She knew better. 

But it was 7:30 AM and she really wanted to leave something for him on his desk. 

She quietly crept in, sliding her slim frame through the ajar door and tiptoed to his desk to gently place something on it. 

“The hell’re you doing?” A groggy voice startled her. 

She should’ve expected the hyper-vigilant teen to wake up while she was there. 

“I was—I just wanted t-to leave something here for you.” She nervously stammered. 

He narrowed his sleepy eyes at her. “Give it here.” 

Max slowly walked over, handing the surprise to Billy. 

It slowly exchanged hands and Billy examined it closely. 

“I-I know you don’t have a record player but I saw the posters in your room and I thought you’d want to—like—have something to collect. So Steve drove me to a record store to get you a vinyl.”

He stared at the Mötley Crüe vinyl for a few moments, then handed it back to Max. “Put it on my desk.” He said as he laid back down. 

“Y-you don’t like it?” She frowned. 

“Never said I didn’t. I’m just tired.”

Max slowly walked back over to his desk and set the vinyl down. 

“Why’d you buy that for me?” He asked. 

“Don’t you know what today is? It’s your—“

“I know that.” He said in a snippy voice. “I’m asking why the hell you bought me anything. You never cared before.”

“Well, last year, I tried to buy you something with my allowance and my mom said Neil would be mad if I used my money on you, so she wouldn’t take me to the mall.”

“And you said Harrington drove you? Why the hell did he do that?” Billy continued to question.

“We had a long talk about that night at the Byers and we came to a realization of how unfair we were being to you. So I—I didn’t wanna lose you forever. We don’t get along but like, we had our moments, where we’d talk to each other a little bit. Now we don’t speak at all.”

“You stabbed me with a needle.”

“You were gonna kill Steve if I didn’t stop you.” Max sighed. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“You don’t need to be. But whatever, guess I’m sorry too.”

Max smiled.  “I’ll let you sleep. Happy birthday.”

She closed the door behind her upon exiting and went back to her bed.

It was nearly 11AM when Max woke up again. Neil and Susan were already at work. Susan left a note behind with instructions for heating up lunch. 

This year, there was no school on Billy’s birthday, so Max decided to heat up the lunch for both of them. 

She set down two plates just in time, as she heard Billy resurfacing from his room.

He stepped through the quiet house and stopped by the table, glaring at Max.

“Nobody’s home?”

“No. Mom left lunch for us, so I heated it up.”

Billy looked down at the chicken Parmesan. Susan normally only made it for holidays, but Easter wasn’t until Sunday. 

Max figured it was Susan’s subtle way of giving Billy a little something special for his birthday.

“There were some breadsticks too.” Max mentioned, grabbing them out of the toaster oven. “I put some of that garlic and herb stuff on them because I remembered that you like it.”

Billy glared at Max as she started eating. 

“What?” She asked with her mouth half full.

Billy shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Nothin’. Forget it.” 

They ate in complete silence. Billy finished first and got up from the table without a word.

Max didn’t expect much conversation from Billy, but he wasn’t as unpleasant as he could’ve been, so it was fine.

She washed the dishes and sat back down at the table reading a magazine when Billy returned once more with his jacket on.

“C’mon.”

“Where’re we going?”

“Somewhere. I can’t leave you here by yourself. Susan and dad would bitch about it.”

Max grabbed her jacket and slipped on some shoes, then followed Billy to his car.

The drive was brief and they stopped at the quarry.

To Max’s surprise, Billy invited her to sit on the hood of his car. He offered her a soda and cracked open a beer for himself.

They clinked their cans together and drank as they quietly watched the early afternoon scenery. 

“It’s surprisingly warm today.” Max initiated small talk. 

“I think the groundhog saw its shadow—or didn’t see its shadow—or whichever meant a late winter.”

“It’s…when he sees his shadow.” She paused. “I think.”

Billy snorted. “Why are we listening to a big ass rodent about the weather anyway?”

Max softly giggled. “Tradition, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, it’s stupid.” He mumbled in response as he brought the beer can to his lips.

Silence returned again, and Billy glanced over at Max.

“So y’said Harrington drove you to the record store. That’s like…across town.”

“I wasn’t alone with him, if that’s what you’re worried about. Dustin and Lucas went too.”

Billy quickly responded with a scoff. “What’s so great about Harrington anyway? You defended him over me that night—“

“Is that what made you so upset?”

“No. But you defended him and I’m asking about it.”

“Well, he’s really nice. He looks after all my friends, everyone around town knows him and his family—“

“So he’s just the opposite of me.”

“W—I—I mean, you’re nice sometimes. You’ve been nice to me 4 times and I remember them all.”

Billy shrugged. “Yeah. Anyway, thanks for the gift, shitbird.”

“You better get me something nice for my birthday too!”

“When is it again? April…may…tember…”

“July.” She snapped.

Billy laughed. “I know when your birthday is, don’t be such a baby.”

“I’m not.” She fired back. “You’re just a jerk.”

“And?”

Max scoffed. “You’re so lucky it’s your birthday or I’d—“

“You’d what?”

Max chugged her soda and tossed the empty can at Billy.

“You piece of shit. You’re dead!”

Max jumped off the hood of Billy’s car and ran off laughing, with Billy not too far behind. 

When Billy finally caught up to Max, he chugged his beer and tossed the can at Max.

The out of breath siblings glared at one another, before their expressions softened and they began to laugh.

“Hey, d’you wanna go to the movies or something?” Max offered. “I’ll buy you popcorn.”

“And I get to pick the movie?”

Max groaned. “Fine.”

“You know I pick better movies than you do, anyway.”

“Bullshit! Your movie choices suck ass!”

The two bickered all the way back to Billy’s car. Sure, this was a nice day, but Billy couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t stop thinking about Steve Harrington driving his little sister across town to get him a gift.

‘Maybe I should thank him too…’

[dotster001]

The Queen Rises Again, a For Tuna End

Part One Part Two Part Three Choose another ending

You hadn't seen much of Vil, recently. And anytime you went to visit him in Pomefiore, he was always “busy” and refused to even open his door to you.

At first you had been frustrated, but you were starting to get worried. Rook and Epel had assured you everything was fine, Vil was just going through a phase of sorts, but that didn't ease your anxiety. For seven's sakes, what kind of “phase” could Vil Schoenheit be in?

It was on another evening that had you ruminating on this idea, that Grim sighed heavily next to you.

“Oh, Grimmy, when did you get in?”

He stared at you for a moment, before scowling. “I've been sitting here, sighing heavily, for ten minutes.”

“Oh, sorry bud. What's wrong?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

You stifled a groan. No one saying what was wrong with Vil was already weighing on you, the last thing you needed was another person to not tell you what was wrong. You weren't good at the guessing games.

“Grim, if you don't tell me, I won't know how to help you.”

“Don't get snippy with me! I'm in distrust!”

“Distress?”

“Exactly!”

He pouted, and crossed his tiny kitty arms, turning away from you with a “hmph”.

You steadied yourself, and forced a calm tone, gently scratching behind Grim's ears.

“What's wrong, bubbas?”

Grim sighed forlornly. “I've just been…thinking.”

You very much doubted that. That was the joke you'd have made if he wasn't so forlorn.

“About what?”

"About how I can't be everything you need.”

“Sorry?” You fought back a confused laugh.

“Look, I am the Great Grim! I bring joy and color to your life as the beloved roommate/son that you always longed for! But even I can't be everything a human needs…”

You quirked an eyebrow, and he scowled. “I can't give you romance. What I'm implying is that you're gonna die alone.”

“Ouch. Thanks Grim. Definitely could have said that nicer. But isn't the next thing you're supposed to say, “but you don't have to worry about being alone because I'll always be there for you?””

Grim looked at you like you were crazy. “My wife and ten children will be taking up all of my time.”

“Sure Grimmy. But I'm a big kid, I can take care of myself…”

“Sure, sure, I totally believe you. But what if…” he hesitated. “What if I had someone, who I knew was very in love with you, and was positive he could take care of you?”

You choked. “Sorry?”

“He's mad for you,  and I know if you asked him out, he'd say yes!”

“Lord, who would have a crush on me?”

Grim rolled his eyes, and muttered, “it's more likely than you think. Anyway!”

He pushed himself into your lap, cupping your cheeks. “Please Y/N. I'm worried about you, and I need to know that when I'm not with you, you will be okay.”

Your instinct was to say no. But when you looked into his eyes, he looked so sad and earnest, that you released a reluctant sigh, and agreed.

….

“Kay Grimmy, how do I look?”

He looked at the spot you were standing on the steps, and glared.

“Absolutely not. I told you this was a high fashion date.”

“Well, sorry, but this is all the high fashion I have! In case you forgot, we had to spend our entire monthly allowance to pay for a cleaning crew in the lab.”

“It'll have to do,” he sighed wistfully.

You heard a light knock on the door.

“He's here!” He scampered to the door, before looking back at you. “At least get a coat so he can't see the outfit.”

“If he likes me as much as you swear he does, it won't matter.”

Grim rolled his eyes and opened the door, to reveal…

….

Maybe it was just that you hadn't seen him in a long time, but something was different about the way Vil looked. 

“Apple blossom, if you keep staring, I'll get self conscious,” he mused as he delicately rolled some pasta on his fork. Your cheeks burned, and you looked down at your plate.

“I've just been worried about you, that's all.”

“I'm grateful for your concern,” he reached across the table and squeezed your hand, making your heart flutter.

“Have you started a new skin care routine? Your skin seems like it's glowing!” You quickly changed the subject.

“You have a sharp eye! I've been trying some new products, and I think it looks rather good.”

“Yeah…wait! I know what's different!” You sat up straight. “Your hair looks darker!”

He froze. “I don't think so…”

“It definitely looks a shade darker-”

“How about we split a slice of cake for dessert!” He said in a voice louder than you expected, but you nodded.

….

“Would you join me for a moment longer? I need to pick up something at Octavinelle.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He placed your hand in the crook of his arm, and escorted you to the lounge. As you entered, Floyd, Jade, and Azul all looked up, various looks of irritation and shock on their faces. 

“Wait here,” Vil whispered into your ear, and you gave him a nod as he walked over to Azul, who looked positively vexed. You watched him sigh heavily, then walk with Vil to the VIP room.

“So you and betta fish, huh?” A bitter voice asked in your ear, and you nearly jumped out of your skin. The last time your eyes had been on the twins, they had been across the room. And now they were here.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Was it a pleasant evening?”

“You know what? Yeah, actually,” you said with a smile. Maybe it was that you'd been so worried about Vil, and now you'd finally gotten to see her was okay, but you had a great date. You hated to admit that Grim of all people would set you up with someone you enjoyed, and could sort of see a future with, but then again, he knew you better than anyone. Why wouldn't he put thought and effort into finding someone he knew you would love?

“Damn, really? Ugh,” Floyd groaned, slumping against you, nearly causing you to topple over.

“What Floyd means to say, is that if you ever feel he doesn't live up to expectations, or he ever steps out of line, please feel free to discuss it with us,” Jade said with a smile.

“Please, please, please tell us if that happens,” Floyd had buried himself into the crook of your neck, and was now squeezing you tightly.

“I got what I'm here for,” Vil's voice called to you, as he not so elegantly yanked Floyd off of you. With Floyd apart from you, he took your hands in his, and then leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. Over his shoulder, you watched Azul waltz back into the VIP room, and slam the door behind him, with an echoing thud.

“You ready to go, Apple blossom?” Vil asked as though he hadn't just completely reset your brain. You nodded dumbly, and he escorted you out. Over your shoulder, you thought you heard a growl from the twins.

But you couldn't think much about that as you got intoxicated by Vil's warmth and perfume.

The End

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[noyzinerd]

More Than Just A Body (Swap)

Thinking about a post-body swap Sterek fic.

One that fully takes place after a body swap has already been reversed (like, a sequel to a non-existent fic--where they swapped bodies, had to live as the other, got switched back, yet didn't get together by the end--that's constantly alluded to, but we never actually get to read), so we only see the aftermath.

Derek is super irritated and snippy for days after they get back into their own bodies. Stiles thinks it's because Derek feels pissed and humiliated he had to relive to highschool with insufferable teenagers, be helplessly human and weak, and generally listen to authority again (his dad). It definitely bums Stiles out to think that Derek found living his life so deplorable that he's still angry about it. So now both of them are upset and sort of avoiding each other.

It isn't until two weeks later, when their stand-off is starting to effect pack business, that Stiles gets fed up and confronts Derek.

"What's your deal, man? You've been super shitty ever since we swapped back. It's been two weeks. How can you still be mad about living as me? What, was doing the dishes and being forced to write 5,000 words about the Louisiana Purchase seriously that terrible? Look, I'm sorry you had to deal with my stupid, tissue-paper body for so long, but you can't just-!"

And before you know it, Derek has him shoved up against a wall. He's still pissed, yeah, but, for some reason, he also looks...hurt and broken inside.

"Your body isn't stupid, Stiles! It was the best thing to happen to me in years!"

Stiles is stunned speechless. Derek's fingers are trembling around the grip he has in Stiles' shirt. There's so much pain in those green-blue eyes that it actually aches to look in them. It looks almost like grief.

Like Derek is in mourning.

Derek's not crying, but his eyes are definitely shinier as he continues, "You have no idea what you have, Stiles. What I had. For the first time since the worst fucking day of my life, I got to do normal things, like chores and sports. Not a single person expected anything of me o-or looked to me for answers. I didn't have to worry about fucking up and getting people killed, because the smartest guy I knew was taking care of my body like it was something precious. And all I had to do in return was live your beautiful, quiet life. A life where someone gently woke me up for school and nobody found me too intimidating to get close to.

"I got to know what it was like to be loved by a father again, Stiles! To say the words 'I love you, too, Dad' when I didn't think I'd ever get another chance. I-I got to be hugged and have people smile at me like they were glad to see me and I'd get to look in the mirror in the morning to the sweetest smile at the start of my day and hear your voice every time I talked. It was perfect." Somehow, Stiles has found his face streaked with tears even though the tears valiantly sticking to Derek's lashes still haven't fallen as his voice breaks over his words.

"A-and now? All I get to wake up to is me." The word is spit out with acid and venom. "I get to wake up alone in a cold, silent, empty, concrete room and look at a face in the mirror that makes me sick. I get to go back to my pathetic fucking life where I have to choose between literally fighting against an endless wave of people out to kill me or using my family's blood money to buy myself a microwavable dinner for the night. The only difference is that now...now I'm haunted by the feel of your fingers through my hair, your arms wrapped around me," at this, Stiles can feel his heart cracking apart at the thought of Derek using his body to simply hug himself, "y-your voice telling me that I'm going to be okay, and just-just the sight of your skin and your eyes and-and-I just, I can't, Stiles, I-I can't-!"

Stiles is clutching Derek so tight to him in an instant, tucking him into his neck and slowly lowering them to the ground as Derek collapses and sobs into him.

---

Once the tears are all dry, Stiles finally picks up the courage to be vulnerable too. He owes it to Derek.

At least it'll be easier now that he can't see the werewolf's reactions.

So, as he's stroking the other's hair, Stiles tells him about how he wishes Derek could see the man he fell in love with the way Stiles can.

He tells him about how he fell in love with a man whose heart is so big and full of kindness that he physically cannot stop himself from helping people, no matter how much he likes to pretend that he doesn't care.

The man he loves is powerful, resilient, and stronger than any one person has any right to be, yet so fragile as to be afraid of loving someone too much because he might be shattered.

The man Stiles loves is smart, sassy, thoughtful, stubborn, awkward, grumpy, sweet, and so so deserving of hugs and smiles and kisses and praise, because Derek is and has always been more than just a body.

Stiles tells him about how, during their swap, he made sure to take warm baths with nice smells, nap in cozy blankets, and massage his hands and feet with lotions because Stiles wanted to take care of Derek's body as much as he could while he got the chance. He did it because he wanted to help Derek and this was the only way he thought he could.

If there had been even the slightest indication that anything more would've been well received, Stiles would have already done it. All he wants is permission.

"Please...let me take care of you?"

---

So, slowly, day by day, Stiles enfolds Derek into a gentle life.

Stiles is Derek's strongest advocate, his extra set of hands to help carry his burdens, his pillow, his introduction to new things and new people.

They're always wrapped around each other, all the time, almost like Stiles is scared of Derek getting cold.

Despite the confession, things remain G-rated for a while. Cuddles, hand-holding, caresses, just touching. Shy kisses eventually make an appearance after some time, but they remain sweet, loving little things.

Stiles makes it perfectly clear that he's fine waiting to make a move until he's sure being intimate can't possibly be mistaken as anything else. He needs Derek to understand that this isn't obligation or pity. Stiles loves Derek. And Stiles is going to take his time because he wants Derek to feel loved beyond his body, no matter how long it takes.

By the time Derek feels whole again, now living with the Stilinskis and smiling softly as a default expression, they find themselves in front of the bathroom mirror having their first time together.

It's definitely not kinky. Mostly reverent, full of "It's okay, I'm right here", fingers laced tight together, flashing eyes, and a bit of emotional tears. It's gentle and assuring, with promises of never being alone again, and whispers of "so beautiful" and "so sweet" and "so perfect". Climax is rewarded with praises, hands stroking up arms and down backs, and "I love you"s are slurred through dropped fangs and traded back and forth between kisses

But as expected, finally having sex doesn't magically make Derek love himself. It's still a long road. Because even if Derek doesn't completely hate his life anymore, there are those hard days where he still has problems with 'being Derek'.

And maybe one day Derek will learn to love the body he lives in.

Until then, Stiles will just have to love it for him.