#he’s honestly just the prettiest fucker around

[frnkiebby]

Idk if you've seen these ones but I must send because I'm physically and mentally dying 😭

oohhh my god fucking SAME. 2&3 i have and fucking die over every single time, and 1&4???? I HAVENT SEEN??? THANK YOU FOR ALL OF THEM????~🎃

[pastorpresent]

Inspired by a lovely ask/prompt from @flower-majesty-anon, who asked for some deadclaws lipstick marking and mirror shenanigans with a sprinkle of angst:)) thank you so much my dear for the prompt!

Logan is panting hard into Wade's mouth, making desperate little noises everytime Wade thrusts into him. The sort of noises Wade wishes he could literally keep in a bottle, because they are fucking glorious - and he puts a lot of that down to the fact it's The Wolverine making them. Who would've thought he would dissolve so beautifully during sex? Sound so sickeningly sweet?

Wade could admit he was obsessed. Who wouldn't be? It's funny, because back in the Honda odyssey days, Logan would've swore up and down that he was not a bottom, and yet the first time he let Wade try, one otherwise dull Tuesday afternoon - about a month ago, a few weeks post world saving... well, Wade hadn't had a dick in his ass since, and Logan had become his own personal flesh light.

And Wade was a gentleman. He left it to Logan everytime to choose which half he wanted to be, and then silently squealed in delight as the man, Logan Howlett himself, would blush the prettiest of pinks and ask to be fucked open on Wade's dick.

Life did get better, kids!

Their sex was violent, and rough, and neither of them would have it any other way. How else were you supposed to do it when you finally find someone who matches your immortality and boner for being ripped into?

Honestly, despite what most people would likely think, Wade was just a tad more on the aggressive side than what Logan was. Of course that was only because most the time the older mutant was getting fucked so hard and edged for so long that he wasn't cohesive enough to fight, settling for lazy bites on Wade's neck that barely broke the skin, because he was rocked into a moan before he could finish the job.

Wade loved to mark Logan. Biting and sucking hickeys everywhere he could reach, the marks smeared with a little bit of blood. It meant Logan was his. All fucking his.

"Fuck," Logan breathed, grasping his shoulders to stop himself from being smacked into the headboard with the force of which Wade was hammering into his body, the tightness absolutely fucking delicious, hugging his dick perfectly. Jesus, he wanted to be inside Logan permanently. It was his happy place. Screw unicorns and waterfalls and meadows - the best place he could conjure up in his cesspool of a head was here, with Logan all sweaty and desperate beneathe him while he hammered his g-spot.

He leaned forward, catching Logan's lips in a brief kiss before moving just below his jaw, nosing at the skin, sucking hard, nipping with his teeth.

It drove Logan crazy, as usual. Wade felt him tighten around him, and the brunette gasped, lifting his chin higher. Always so beautifully accomodating and obedient. His Kitty.

By the time he was done ravaging at his neck, they'd both came, and Logan looked like he'd been mauled. In the best way, obviously. His neck was bruised, hickeys layered atop of each other like some sort of dirty collage. He looked gorgeous, sprawled out on the mattress, chest heaving, marked up.

After a minute or two of being collapsed in a sweaty heap together, Logan got up to go grab a towel. And yeah, Wade knows as the 'fucker' that really ought to be his job, but he was comfy lying in the mess of bodily fluids, and realistically Logan had the easier job! He just had to lie there looking pretty while Wade did the hard stuff. Ha, get it? Hard stuff?

Yeah, not his best, but there was something about a two hour sex marathon and orgasming a half dozen times that turned his brain a bit mushy.

He watched Logan go, said mush brain not quite awake enough to muster an ass comment, so he settled for just staring at it. He was heading for the bathroom, but Wade watched him pause at their mirror.

His fingers traced over the marks on his neck as they healed into nothing.

The expression on Logan's face was... sad, as he ran his hand over his bare neck and jaw.

He didn't say anything, moving to get the towel, and returning without mentioning it. He cleaned himself up first, and Wade watched. There was rarely silence between them, mostly because of Wade- Logan could probably not say more than single word every half hour and there still wouldn't be lues of silence.

When there was, it was comfortable. As it was, the current silence was because Wade was studying Logan, trying to get a read on his earlier reaction.

Did he not like the marks? They went away pretty quick, and he enjoyed the process of their creation well enough. Was it too much? They didn't really have any limits at all when it came to sex, because they could always sort of tell when the other wasn't into something, but he could've sworn Logan was into having his neck turned into some sort of crude rendition of Van Goghs 'starry night'.

Wade's train of thought was cut off by Logan cleaning his dick, his light touch too much for the very sensitive part of Wade's anatomy.

"You're too quiet," Logan said as he wiped down his chest, which was sticky with their combined release.

Wade took the towel from him and gently wiped Logan's eyebrow, where he'd missed the bit of come Wade had landed there on his third (fourth, maybe...?) orgasm.

"I'm not the one staring at themselves in the mirror like some teenage girl the morning after prom night," Wade replied, and yeah, maybe the humour was a bit of a defence mechanism here - because he was internally panicking over the idea that Logan wasn't into this, them, as much as he was, and worse still - he didn't feel comfortable enough to let Wade know.

Logan looked uncomfortable.

Fuck, dammit!

He couldn't lose this. Now he'd gotten a taste, he'd be a damn addict for Logan's skin and...

And he was the person who could make Wade feel fucking alive, for the first time since he went and got himself tortured into a damn freak. There was something about dying and regenerating over and over - you come back, breathing and solid, but it's like there was still a death rattle beneathe your ribs.

When he was with Logan, whether they be balls deep in each other or just eating fucking breakfast, that coldness dissipated. Quietened down into something Wade could conceivably ignore.

"It's nothing, just drop it," Logan muttered, but that had never been Wade's strong suit.

"Nope, tell me what's up or I'm never putting my dick in your sweet ass ever again," Wade slapped said ass, and Logan growled, cheeks going red.

"It's... fuckin' stupid, you'll just make fun of me," Logan scoffed, folding his arms over his chest and looking down at the bedding rather than Wade himself.

"If it's upsetting you it's not stupid. Come on babygirl, spill your guts to daddy," Wade purred, which only made Logan's glare intensify and the redness to spread down his neck.

He huffed a sigh, moving to get up, but Wade grabbed his wrist.

"No, hey, c'mon! I'll stop, I'll stop. Just tell me what's going on in that head of yours, peanut," he said, and Logan settled back on the bed, pulling one of their blankets around himself so he wasn't completely naked.

Wade didn't really give a shit about covering himself up, lying spread eagle on the bed still.

"Just... no fucking laughing, alright?" Logan gritted, and Wade nodded, "pinky promise," he said, holding out his pinky finger which Logan ignored.

"I like when you leave marks. I... I really, really like it, actually because it..." Logan's quiet voice trailed into silence in the room as he fidgeted, growling low in his throat as he grew frustrated at finding the right words.

"It makes you feel owned? Like you're mine, baby?"

Wade really wasn't mocking this time, reaching out to run a hand over the exposed skin of Logan's thigh, which earned him a full body shiver. Bingo.

"Uhm- I- yeah, and I know it's pathetic but I... I like it. I like feeling like I'm- I'm yours," Logan admitted, somehow even quieter.

Wade sat up, cooed softly and brought his lips inches from his kittys, lifting a hand to cup his cheek, "you're all mine, hm? All mine forever?"

Logan's expression faltered a little at that last bit, and Wade frowned, "so what's the problem, angel?"

"The marks don't stay. They dissapear too quickly and there's... there's nothing. No proof of it- and I know it's stupid, cos it's hardly like I could show up to work looking like... but it just gets to me a little, seeing them fade as fast as they do."

Logan's staring down at his lap, struggling to swallow around a lump in his throat, and Wade just wants to melt into a pathetic puddle, because he understood what Logan meant but also to have his lover genuinely upset that he couldn't show off the fact he was getting fucked rough and good every night... it was as hot as it was depressing.

"What if you let me take photos next time? We could keep them in the drawer, and whenever you need a reminder..." it wasn't a perfect solution by any means, and he planned to brainstorm something better, but it would do for now.

Logan smiled softly at the idea, but it looked like he was still a bit dissapointed, "sounds good."

Wade kissed him, soft, just lips, and swore he'd make it his mission to make Logan look like his in a more long lasting kind of way.

//

Logan felt utterly stupid.

Why the hell did he admit that shit to Wade?! He must think he's the most ridiculous, pathetic person on the planet - and Logan wouldn't blame him.

He'd admit he may have some... issues. Issues that make it so he needs to feel owned, because if not he just feels like he's floating without purpose.

And, well, nothing in his life seemed to last, generally speaking. The x-men were supposed to, once upon a time, before he let them be slaughtered. His quiet life in the mountains was supposed to, his relationship with Scott and Jean... but none of it ever did.

The only things Logan had come to know as permanent fixtures in his life were pain and, ironically, loss.

And maybe it was because Wade had literally pulled him up from the abyss of nothingness, but he really needed him to be permanent. Needed them to be permanent.

But everyday he'd watched the marks the merc would bite into his skin, cushioned by affirmations of appreciation and devotion and ownership, dissapear into nothing, leaving no trace behind as if they'd never happened at all.

It hurt. It broke him a little bit to watch them fade, because he couldn't lose this and he didn't need the very physical visual reminder that with just one stupid fuck up, he very well could.

He might have already, in all honesty.

They hadn't fucked in two days. Which to most, is nothing. For them? Well, Logan can only fuck himself alone on a dildo so many times in a 48 hour period, and he thinks he's on track to set the damn record.

Wade is sort of just dipping in and out the apartment, never around enough for them to kiss, nevermind fuck, and Logan feels like some girl with a crush, sitting around twiddling his thumbs and waiting on Wade to fucking notice him - or more accurately, to take him to their room and fuck him stupid.

By day three, he figures it's probably over. He freaked Wade out with his chronic neediness and instability, and he pulls up apartment listings and thinks about packing his shit. If he really has ruined this, he just needs to be gone. He can't drag it out, not this, not with what they have. It's too much, and if it's going to disappear, Logan isn't going to hang around and watch it fade like the marks on his neck.

He'd say he has too much self respect for that, but in reality he's just a fucking coward.

On day four though, he's woken up to kisses.

On his chest. His neck. His shoulders.

Soft lips pressing against his skin, and he blinks awake, squinting against the sunlight creeping between the gaps of their shitty curtains.

"Hmph," he breathes, and those lips kiss his jaw, teasing the corner of his lips, "morning, gorgeous," Wade's familiar voice breaks through the fog in his brain.

He glances down, and at first he's confused by the red painting his skin. He wasn't in pain, and Wade didn't tend to make him bleed unless he was a willing, conscious participant.

Then Wade came into view, and Logan realises the red, for once, isn't blood.

It's lipstick.

"What..." he frowns, lifting a hand and pressing his thumb lightly to the mercs red lips, which stretch into a smirk as he does. His thumb comes back the same shade of red.

"It won't be permanent," Wade says, kissing his jaw, nibbling a little in a way which makes Logan's back arch the tiniest bit, "but it will last longer, especially 'cos the lady in the store told me this one was a right pain in the ass for staining skin," Wade wiggled his non-existent eyebrows, and Logan stared.

Stared for a bit too long, probably, because Wade is lifting off of him, the tiniest dredges of embarrassment visible in his expression, "if you think it's weird, we can stop. I just thought-"

"Not weird," Logan interrupted, pretending the hoarseness of his voice was purely from just waking up, "I just... you thought about solutions? You... you went fucking lipstick shopping? Consulted the damn sales clerk? All for..." Logan trailed off, his throat suffocating on emotion.

"For you, babygirl. Anything for you, you should know that by now," Wade finished.

Logan is almost relieved when Wade returns to kissing his way around his body because at least he doesn't see the way his eyes well up just a little.

He gets lost in the feeling of Wade all over him, relishing in it, by the time the merc moves to his ear, biting playfully at his earlobe and leaving a smudge of red there too.

"I want you to see. Want you to watch me mark what's mine," Wade spoke low in his ear, and Logan felt his entire body shiver at the notion of it, knew Wade did too by the way his smile widened, in that annoyingly smug way it tended to when he discovered something about Logan that he'd prefer to stay hidden.

"You like that idea, sweetheart?" Wade hums, sickeningly sweet.

Logan keeps carefully quiet, but Wade isn't exactly one to drop things and if anything, his evident embarrassment only eggs the merc on.

"Nuh-uh, princess. If you want something, you gotta use your words like a big girl or daddy isn't giving you anything," Wade pulls back a little, an obvious threat, and Logan glares because even that, those fucking nicknames, did something to him that he didn't get. Drove him insane with a need that he didn't know he had until he met Wade.

Part of him was just overwhelmed and pissed, never really one to submit quietly - but while Al was a pro at getting the blood out, she couldn't do much if Logan slashed up the sheets into ribbons.

He bit his tongue hard enough for copper to fill his mouth, and when he spoke his gritted teeth were stained red like the trail left behind from Wade's lips, "please, Wade."

"Please what?" Wade pushed, tilting his head and grinning from ear to ear.

Asshole.

"I- I want..." he swallowed, exhaled.

"Want what, honey?"

"Want to watch. Want- want to see you marking me and fucking me, please," it all came out a bit rushed, but Wade seemed pleased regardless.

"Your wish is my command," and then Wade was moving off of him, but bringing him with- fingers intertwining as the merc guided him off their bed and in front of the full length mirror they had propped in the corner of the room. It was dirty, and cracked in the corner, but Logan still felt his breath catch when he caught his reflection.

The trail of red smudges up his neck, around his jaw, bright and stark against his skin.

Marks from Wade. Kissed deep into his very being, born from a devotion he didn't deserve - because honestly? All Logan had ever wanted was to be owned, claimed as somebody's, but he'd always been tossed out. A stray. Good enough to pet, but not good enough to keep.

'Girls flirt with the dangerous guy, Logan... they don't take him home'

At least no one had ever thought so until Wade.

Wade, who found him at his lowest and claimed him - even all the way back then. Gave him a home and a second chance at life, and then did all of this. Went and bought lipstick, because of some dumb little hangup Logan had. Did all of this for him.

The gratitude was overwhelming. His knees buckled, his throat impossibly tight, and Wade caught him with ease, adjusting them so most of his body weight was pressed against Wade's scarred skin.

"Need a break, baby?" Wade asked behind him, lowering them both to the floor, tugging Logan back until he was sat on his lap, his eyes still on their reflection as he leaned his head against Wade's shoulder.

He shook his head the tiniest bit.

"Good girl," Wade praised, the words going straight to Logan's achingly hard dick which was standing to attention against his stomach.

Begging for attention Logan knows it won't get, not yet anyways, because when Wade's in this sort of mood, his cock goes completely ignored while he focuses on-

Fuck, there it is. A finger teasing his hole, dipping in just enough to make Logan groan, thighs jolting, his head hitting back against Wade's shoulder with a dull thump.

"Love your pussy, princess. She practically pulls me in," Wade teases a second finger, and Logan can see how embarrassingly red he goes.

"Wade," he scolds, unable to manage much more, and it's mortifying anyway because instead of the gruff warning he intended, his voice instead came out all breathless and squeaky.

"What?" Wade asks innocently, "you want me to stop?"

And it's not a question, not in the way Wade asks it - because he already has his answer.

He takes his fingers out, dragging them up his torso, tapping Logan's bottom lip. Logan's jaw drops open so fast it clicks, and Wade slides the digits in far enough to make Logan gag.

He glares at mirror Wade, biting down a little in retribution, which just earns a chuckle from the man behind him, "wet 'em, babygirl."

Logan swirls his tongue around them, unable to stop himself from nibbling just a little, until they are soaked.

Wade pulls them out, moves them back down, and Logan lifts up a little so he can slide them in like before.

He let's out a startled sound when Wade shoves him forward instead, barely catching himself with his hands as he's forced onto all fours.

Wade thrusts both fingers in all at once, wriggling them deep until they are simply pressing against his prostate with the most irritating, feather soft touch.

Logan tries to push back onto them, but Wade smacks his ass, tutting loudly.

"Now, now! If you can't be good, daddy is going to tie you up and make you watch him jerk himself to the most disgusting porn imaginable, all while you get nothing."

That stupid nickname again. Logan couldn't speak, his brain seemingly offline, so he just sort of whimpered instead, struggling so much to stay still that his arms began to shake, every cell of his body begging him to start moving and fucking himself on Wade's stupidly good fingers.

"That's it, good girl," his other hand trails until it's cupping his chest, a thumb grazing his nipple, which makes Logan moan.

He looks away from the mirror, mortified seeing his face twisted up in pleasure. How the fuck does that turn Wade on?

Wade notices, because of course the fucker does. He's always so damn vigilant, but it's like it gets cranked up to a thousand during sex. Or fighting. But Logan would put money on the fact it's higher during sex.

"Watch yourself, sweetheart. Look at how pretty you look with my fingers inside you while I play with your tits," Wade says, and Logan reluctantly meets his own gaze in the mirror, which makes Wade coo with praise, "there's my pretty girl, you're a damn vision! And you're all mine, aren't you sweetness?"

Wade punctuates his point by leaning forward, draping himself over Logan's back. The switch of position drives his wriggling fingertips into his prostate for a second, and Logan very almost buckles to the ground. He kisses along the bare side of his neck, starting at the junction where his collarbone is, biting down hard enough to tear into muscle.

The blood blends in lovely with the red lipstick, and Logan is panting like a fucking dog in heat.

"Mine, all mine," Wade repeats, and it's like everytime he says that magical little word, something punches into Logan's gut in the best possible way.

He kisses up to his jaw, then over his cheek, his tongue dragging over the kiss marks and smudging them a bit, making them messy.

Wade grins at him in the mirror, and Logan would smile back but his lips seem frozen in a permanent 'o' position as he watches Wade leave marks. As he watches them remain on his skin.

"Wade- daddy," he whimpers, and for the first time probably ever, he's the one who renders Wade speechless during sex, watches as his pupils expand so wide his eyes are practically black.

Wade is still on top of him, until a punched out breath leaves his lungs, his eyes rolling back a little, "jesus, Lo. Fuck," he mutters, and Logan blushes but feels distinctly proud of himself.

"Gonna fuck you so hard your healing can't keep up princess," kisses over his spine, and when Wade shoves him down a bit more, forcing his back to arch, he can see the trail of red left behind.

"Please," Logan breathes.

Wade takes his fingers out, brings both hands up to bracket Logan's hips, holding him firmly in place.

There's no lube involved when Wade pushes into him, and it burns. The stretch burns him from the inside out, but it feels so fucking good.

"So fucking tight. You feel like a damn virgin, you been saving yourself for me, Wolvie?" Wade's normally steady voice sounds a bit wild at the current moment, as he finally bottoms out. Logan moans at the fullness, squirming a little, holding his breath.

"Except no- because no virgin moans like the two dollar whore that you do. No virgin can handle a dick in their soaking cunt like you do, babygirl," Wade grunts, and Logan paws at the carpet, breathing heavy and uneven as every word makes that heat building low in his stomach even more intense.

Wade pulls back, then slams back in, holding him in place with nails digging into flesh, fucking him hard and fast and brutal.

Logan screams into the carpet. Wade grabs a fistful of his hair, yanking his head up, "fucking watch, bitch," he orders, never slowing or faltering in his rhythm.

Logan does. Sees the way Wade looks totally gone in his pleasure, thrusting ridiculously. Watches the way his body jerks with every movement, the red marks on his skin catching the sunlight, barely distinguishable from the ever so slightly darker shades of blood.

"I- I'm close, can- can I-" it's like Wade is pushing every word out of him, and Logan realises that he's going to come with his dick completely untouched, and that thought twists it so instead of his rapid run towards the end, he's barelling right past the finish line, and he should've came by now from the impossible tightness in his balls but it's like he physically couldn't. Like he needed Wade's permission and fuck, he really was his bitch in every sense of the word, wasn't he?

"You can come, baby," Wade says, and Logan does. Immediately. Like on fucking command, and he can hear Wade chuckling as his arms give out and he goes falling face first into the carpet, his lower half only staying up from Wade's impossibly tight hold.

He glances at their reflection, mouth dry as Wade continues to fuck into him, his thrusts getting more unsteady but no less forceful as he gets close.

Logan whimpers, his entire body tingling and oversensitive.

"Almost there, sweetheart. Want me to finish inside of you? Knock you up? Want everyone to see you with my baby in your belly and know you truly belong to me?"

And Logan really doesn't get how he manages it, because his dick was half softened, but he comes again, his stomach clenching in a way that hurts as his second consecutive orgasm rips through his utterly confused body.

He must black out, and Wade must come, because the next thing he knows is blinking through bleary eyes up at their ceiling, and it's like he's up there and floating, chest heaving with exertion.

"Lo? You back with me?"

Wade. Wade, he wants Wade. Needs him, now.

"I'm right here," Wade hums, pressing against him, and Logan whimpers, chasing his lips, eyes half lidded.

Wade kisses him all gentle, fingers scratching over his scalp, humming against his skin, "you look gorgeous, baby. Look," and he's tilting Logan's face slightly, just enough to see himself in the mirror.

He's still all marked up. All Wade's, and he makes a happy sound in the back of his throat.

"Are you purring?" Wade asks, incredulous but teasing, his tone light.

Somehow the glare Logan aims for is just a smile, and he tugs Wade in for another kiss.

He does have to shower eventually. They both do, when the come drying over their bodies becomes gross and sticky. The red is washed away, but Logan almost cries in relief when he discovers Wade was right about the staining.

It's subtle, slightly reddened spots on his skin which will likely remain for the next couple of showers, but Logan finds himself running his fingers along them throughout the day, smiling softly to himself.

And well - when they do fade into something no longer visible a couple of days later, Wade has no problem recreating them.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

For the 1k fics…Stede promising Ed that he does look cute in the potato sack and that it doesn’t make Stede like him less

Ooh this is so SWEET!

(Pretty much always taking prompts for 1k word fics! Won't do them all but if I'm inspired they're getting written!)

--

Stede and Ed were back together. Great!

They were taking it slow. Okay!

They were taking their time getting comfortable with each other again. Fine!

They were, maybe, being a little bit careful with each other, still. Understandable!

The only problem was that Stede was, maybe, just maybe, laying it on a teensy bit too thick. There  was a point where flattery, especially when obviously untrue, started to feel too much like mockery.

Now, Ed could admit to his little vanities. He made sure his hair always looked great, and he always smelled nice, and his fingernails were always perfectly manicured. And that was for him, it wasn’t just for Stede’s sake, but, like, he also knew Stede wasn’t blind. Ed knew he was a bit of a snack, and really, after everything they’d been through, it was only right that Stede called him hot every now and again.

But he didn’t. He called him beautiful, and adorable, and precious, and Ed was kind of getting fed up with it. 

He was still walking around in a fucking potato suck, for fuck’s sake! He wasn’t sure if Stede was trying to get back at him for the whole ‘marooning the crew and tossing most of his possessions overboard’ thing, but he was beginning to suspect Stede was making fun of him, and he fucking hated that feeling.

Still, genuinely, truly, Ed had not meant to snap at him.

But he was getting a bit fed up with the whole probation onesie thing, honestly. He’d agreed to it because he’d wanted to make sure the crew could see that he was willing to do what it took to make things right, but the onesie had started getting annoying pretty much immediately.  It had only been a few days, but the damn thing was itchy, and he felt like he couldn’t even let Stede hug him because it felt so scratchy against his skin, and he looked stupid.

So when he passed Stede on his way to go fix something up in the cabin, and he blew Stede a little kiss and wink, and Stede gave him this huge smile and said “you look so pretty this morning, Ed,” well…

It kinda hit a nerve.

Ed rolled his eyes. “Lay off, man. It’s not funny anymore.”

Stede frowned. Like he thought Ed hadn’t caught on. “What?”

“I don’t look pretty, I look like I’m wearing a potato sack,” Ed snapped. “It was funny the first time, but you really don’t have to make fun of me, I don’t think it’s funny anymore -”

“Oh, Ed, no!” Stede gasped, stopping dead in his tracks. “Fuck, do you think I’ve just been - what, mocking you?”

Ed might have miscalculated. The horror on Stede’s face looked way too genuine.

“Uh,” he said. “Did you not mean to do that?”

Stede gently took the toolbox Ed had been carrying from his hands, sitting it on the floor so he could turn Ed to face the wall. Ed’s eyes flicked away from the little mirror in the hallway, until Stede hooked his chin over Ed’s shoulder, bonking his cheek against Ed’s to get him to look straight ahead.

“What do you see?” Stede whispered.

Ed swallowed uncomfortably. “Some old fucker wearing a stupid potato sack?”

Stede tutted softly. “I see the prettiest man alive, Ed. The cutest, most handsome -”

“Stede, seriously.” Ed looked down at the floor rather than meet his own eyes. “It’s - I’m not cute, man, you know that.”

“You’re adorable,” Stede said earnestly. “Can I show you?”

It felt a bit too much like being split open. Ed nodded anyway.

“Well, your eyes, for starters.” Stede beamed at him, so bright Ed had to smile back. “You have the biggest, prettiest eyes. I could spend all day just staring into your eyes, if you’d let me. And your nose - fuck, Ed, I lose time thinking about your nose.”

Stede playfully tapped the tip of Ed’s nose with his finger, and Ed giggled.

“Your beautiful hair.” Stede gently twined a stand around one finger. “It’s like starlight, Ed. And your neck…”

Ed tilted his head to the side so Stede could kiss the side of his neck.

“You’re precious,” Stede said, earnestly. “You’re beautiful, you’re so pretty, you’re stunning. I daydream about new words I can use to describe you that might come close to doing you justice.”

“Sap,” Ed said, his voice coming out a bit watery.

“Mhm.” Stede kissed his cheek.

“Even in the stupid potato sack, though?” Ed glanced at himself in the mirror, catching the tail end of the unbearably lovesick expression on his own face as his eyes flicked away from Stede. “You don’t think I look-”

“If you’re about to say anything other than ridiculously attractive, then no, I don’t,” Stede grinned. “You could wear anything at all - or nothing at all, really - ”

“Hm, we could try that later.”

Stede rolled his eyes. “No matter what, I’ll think you’re beautiful. Do you understand?”

Ed thought back to that fond, loving expression on his face. He hadn’t known he could look like that.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I think I’m starting to.”

“Good.” Stede pulled away, taking Ed’s hand. “Want to help me reorganize the library? We’ve got six books now, and I’m thinking we might want to sort them by color this time.”

“No, man, alphabetically is the only way!” Ed bent to pick up his tool box, holding Stede’s hand more intentionally. “I’m telling you, that’s how they do it in the big, proper libraries. Read about it once.”

“Seems time-consuming.” Stede looked back at him, his smile softening. “And Ed, by the way? You really do look pretty today. I wasn’t joking.”

Ed’s knee-jerk reaction, still, was to deny.

“Yeah,” he said, instead, squeezing Stede’s fingers. “I know.”

Huh, Ed thought as he followed Stede back to their cabin, unable and unwilling to stop the smile spreading across his face.

Ed Teach, pretty. Adorable. Cute. Precious.

Imagine that.

[avengedbiologist]

Thinkin about shit so I'm throwing out my headcanons on the Tracy brothers and general thoughts on em idk why.

Scott

Man's like 6'1 and v athletic, he's a slim fella with light muscle (none of these fuckers r having like mad defined muscle cause I simply do not like it lol).

The prettiest guy, like he's managed to go through puberty without getting bad spots or anything, he has like long eyelashes and is just one of those really pretty guys.

This guy is a calisthenics kinda guy, he's just out here just doing that anywhere he can.

He hates veg, he is a fruit kinda guy, apples and grapes are his favourite.

(According to that recent post) Scott has a limp, he's not got the best knees and obviously he's running around a lot and getting all sorts of bumps and bruises. He doesn't hide it because his brothers know about it and he can't help it.

He gets a lot of negative thoughts despite him being quite a positive guy on the outside, all of his brothers know about this*

If I were to assign him his favourite musical it would be a high energy one like hairspray or Moulin rouge (but the newer Broadway one, with the modern songs mixed in). Also come from away, not sure why.

He doesn't baby his brothers, never has, even when they were babies, he was always just a big brother with em, he would fully talk to baby Alan like the kid could respond to him, but alas he was a baby and he could not.

Virgil

I feel a lot of people see him as a tall guy but nah this man's got width instead, he's like 5 foot 8- 5 foot 10.

He is a weight guy, he does all his running and stuff on missions so most of his home workouts are weights, he doesn't even do it as an exercise chore, he just finds it fun weightlifting, and being able to just lift any of his brothers and dad at any point is his favourite thing.

Opposite of Scott, he's a Veggie guy.

He has alot of bulk to his body, his muscles aren't defined, he has fat that bulks it up and has a v soft tummy which keeps him safe and he's very huggable.

His legs are mad strong, like when hes lifting obviously he's lifting with his legs (cause he's smart) so if u wanna go against him in kickboxing or sommat I'll start digging Ur grave now xoxo.

So as u can see I'm assigning them all musicals and Virgil is the easiest, there are so many that could work for him, I'll narrow it down but I know for SURE that he loves Evita (no this isn't projection), Virgil doesn't have like a set genre like this brothers, since he's like here for musicals, so he likes classics he likes contemporary, he likes watching musicals not just for the music, but for seeing the set, costumes and the tech, Evita has some very nice staging, he also likes Falsettos both US and UK versions, the stagings are very different for both and he LOVES it. Finally he also likes little shop.

Going on from the above, in school he was involved in his schools production of little shop, he was a background character but he also made all the puppets for Audrey II.

Yes he is the medic of the group and I like to believe he has done a course/degree or sommat to be a proper medical person (idk the levels of medical but he's higher than just doing first aid but not too high)

Gay ✌️

John

He's a slim guy, similar to Scott, I see a lot people seeing him like veerrryy thin like he's been stretched cause he's a tall guy, I feel like he has a bit of fat on him, he has a soft stomach (not has beefy as Virgil's) and is still a little slim but he has very soft muscle.

He's not a musical guy but he did very much enjoy Cats.

6 foot 1 or 2. Him and Scott just tower over the rest like idk, towers?

Freckled guy, well more moles then freckles.

I have like no one's for John I'm sorry 😭😭

If this bitch has a sexuality it is unlabeled aka he genuinely could not give less of a shit, and honestly, respect.

Gordon

He is a classic guy by liking Mamma Mia and Grease but also loves Something rotten.

5 foot 8 or less, he's shorter than Virgil either way.

He has that Dorito body time since he swims butterfly.

Mullet, obvi. I genuinely cannot think of him without a mullet, I wish I could for everyone's sake but it's stuck in my brain.

I feel I spoke about this last time I did one of these but he suffers from depression and a little bit of PTSD, tho I don't know much about PTSD so I can't go in to too much detail on how he's like, he got it from the hydrofoil accident and (in TAG only) the SOS (I think) dealio.

And I'm mentioning this again from the last one, as much as all the brothers know all the issues of the family (as mentioned at the end) it's Virgil that knows the full deep depths of it, those 2 work together the most and are often left alone with each other so after a long mission or a quiet ride out they get talking and as conversations do they get deeper and deeper.

The bi-con

He has back pain a lot (question why do a lot of Anderson characters have back problems??? Like guys maybe don't break Ur backs, first Gordon, then Grey and then Shane Weston???)

Alan

5 foot 5, in any version, he is shorttt.

Not the best socially.

Is attached to Gordon, had a period in his life where he had to sleep in the same room as Gordon cause he genuinely couldn't sleep anywhere else (no I'm not projecting, maybe I am, fuck it, Alan slept in a dinghy for a year)

I've forgot all my Alan headcanons, welp

Favourite musical gotta be Emojiland, he likes the twists and turns and the costumes in this (again not me projecting). But he also loves Something rotten (along with Gordon)

*None of his mental health issues and such are hidden from anyone in the family, everyone is on the lookout for everyone, and also kinda takes any stigma (if there is any) away from talking about mental health issues, all the brothers have their moments and struggle at times and with this system they can get help with it.

[trappedinmy9to5]

i saw a writing prompt for a moment between two characters to show what theyre like when no ones around. i thought this would be perfect to introduce two of my ocs.

meet dakota and leon :)

"please for the love of god turn this off dakota" leon begged. they were currently squished onto the shared couch of the band watching game of thrones (obviosuly to dakotas request). " would you shut the fuck up? its getting to my favorite part!" he replied back wasting no time in putting his hand over his boyfriends mouth.

"i really do wonder if those two even like each other" kye says as he watches yet another strange interaction between the two. " yeah kota, do you even love me?" leon laughs as he looks up to dakota with the most obnoxious puppy eyes you could imagine.

"obviosuly-not" he replies back and leon wastes no time in punching him. dakota laughs and puts his arm lazily around leons shoulder and kisses his head quickly. making sure to ruffle his long blonde hair in the process.

"confusing fuckers...its weirdly cute how you do nothing but insult each other..." Tae says as he adjusts the signature black bandana tied around his head and everyone turned their attention back to the tv.

a few hours had passed and everyone slowly lost attention to the show. Kye and Zoya were being all lovey on the corner of the couch, Tae was ranting about how their new song didnt have enough bass or whatever. because honestly dakota was no longer listening. in fact he hadnt been listening for a while.

instead all of his attention was directed at the boy asleep on his shoulder. wavy blonde hair falling in his face, lips slightly parted with a hand placed over dakotas chest. he stirred lightly and gripped dakotas shirt. "m'cold baby" he slurred out grogily.

instantly everyone was suddenly paying attention to the two in disbelief at the pet name that had slipped the boys mouth. unlike the rest of them dakota didnt bat an eye. instead he simply stood up and easily lifted leon into his arms like it was nothing.

"night" he stated simply as he carried leon up the stairs towards their bedroom, leaving the rest of them staring in their direction.

he pushed open the bedroom door lightly and placed leon on his side of their shared bed. he only stirred when he was hit with one of dakotas hoodies. "what was that for' he mumbled. "you said you were cold. stop being a weirdo and put it on" dakota replied as he stripped his shirt and jeans replacing them with a pair of shorts and slid into bed next to the now warm leon.

although now leon wasnt sleeping. no he was far from it. he was staring at dakota shamelessly. he took in the way his curls fell just onto his forehead, the way his dark roots were peeking through the grey dye. how his long eyelashes framed his dark eyes perfectly. and how- "why are you staring at me like that?" dakota questioned sarcastically.

"because youre so pretty" he whispered out truthully. "shut up" dakota mumbled, he would never admit it but leon saw the bright blush creep onto his dark skin. "no i mean it kota. prettiest boy ive ever seen." he continued.

hhe shook his head and didnt try to hide the bright smile on his face. "i love you leo" he responded sleepily as he pulled his boyfriend into his chest. leon tilted his head up to place a soft kissed on dakotas lips that was a response in itself. as he laid back into his chest and felt his hands carding through his hair he couldnt help but feel warmth throughout his own chest.

he often thought about how much he loved where he was. hes been dating dakota since they were in high school. and while he absolutly cant stand him and wants to punch the sarcasm out of him 24/7. he also knows that there is no where hed rather be.

there is no one other than his asshole of a boyfriend that he would want to be annoyed by. no one other than him that could calm him down from one of his many pre show anxiety attacks. no one other than him that he wants to hear talk his ear off about game of thrones because he loves the way his australian accent sounds when he talks about shit leon couldnt care less about.

long story short? there was no one more perfect for leon than dakota. and no one more perfect for dakota than the weird kid he met in high school.

"goodnight my leo."

[gyuluster]

txt as boyfriends

requested : yes, thank you @engenemoa-forever​!

words : 1.23k words

genre : fluff, just a lil suggestive but hella hella fluff, bitsa crack too

a/n : hi good evening thank you and sorry for writing this so late ))): i hope you and all u sexc mfs enjoy <3 special mention to @soobmint for helping out with this!! her ideas are too cute not to include <3

SOOBIN

this man would never stop thanking his luck stars that he’s dating you

a total lovebug - he is at his best when he’s in a relationship, so he just can’t stop smiling or simply be happy in your presence

is extremely shy so when you show him affection he has to hide himself so you can’t see him blushing like a churchboy

on the other hand, would always want to show you the love he’s too embarrassed to accept - would never be too proud or too shy to tell you how beautiful you look every morning or whispering sweet nothings to you in the night to help you sleep

would randomly cook meals in the night to show his commitment to you - even though he works extremely hard he would immediately take over the housework if he sees you tired

the PERFECT listener - you could rant about anything and everything for HOURS and he would not even fidget, listening intently to your problems

also gives insane advice so you always turn to him - basically your free therapist

endearments galore - “my love” is his utmost favourite 

dates always include romatic-lit dinners somewhere intimate, and always end with the two of you, hand-in-hand, looking at the stars in your home

in short, this man is wholly dependent on you - you become the beacon of his life, and are every way his missing puzzle piece 

YEONJUN

you both are fucking WILD

honestly no one even doubts the two of you are going out it’s literally so OBVIOUS

this goon is the most flirtatious little fucker known to man

WILL make you sososososososo flustered all the time 

he is so bloody shameless - like he would happily argue with another over how his girlfriend is the prettiest, and not someone else’s 

a lot of contact !!! so much contact on god!!!

HAS to have his arm around you all the time, perhaps the sneaky hand lingering on you all the time

ADORES to kiss you - honestly could kiss you all day, whether it be on your forehead, nose, lips, other places

would show you the whole world - spontaneous trips to either the streets of Paris or the mountains of South America, he’s ready to take you anywhere

y’all might not agree with me on this, but i don’t think he’d be jealous at all concerning you - in fact, he’s so confident in his abilities as a great-as-fuck boyfriend that he doesn’t mind you having boys as super close friends - he knows you’ll be in his arms by the end of the night

you are his only “darling” - his muse, and the love of his life

BEOMGYU

beomgyu as a boyfriend would be the best thing of your life yet the bane of your existence at the exact same time

constantly playfighting 

like you both are at each other’s NECKS at ever waking moment - whether that be over you purposefully taking the last chip to you threatening to burn his neighbourhood down

teasing!!! the teasing never stops!!! this man will have you blushing all the time - he loves seeing you flustered so he can make fun of you which then only gets you pissed

his head is ALWAYS on your shoulder - sometimes he just falls asleep when he’s a little tired and despite you tempted to toss his head off and into the wall, you let him rest upon you

the two of you don’t have particularly loving endearments - i mean, if y’all think “prick”, “dickhead” or “cumshot” is affectionate

a massive brat - either his way or the highway homie you’re gonna have to submit to his movie choices

KING of pouts — one of those bad boys being whipped out and that’s it you’re the victim of emotional manipulation

jealous !!!! this mans gets soooooo annoyed when other guys are bantering around with you — always results in you poking fun which then leads to him sulking in the corner

super late messages at night where he sends voice notes of him singing or playing the guitar which help you fall asleep

basically he’s a massive pain in the ass but it’s a pain you don’t really wanna get rid of

TAEHYUN

okay so this man is quite different from the others because he’s not instantly comfortable

it takes him time to truly mould into the idea of a relationship, but when he does it’s literally seventh heaven

the realest — he is the one who tells you the hard truths or any upsetting news he has — even so, you only want to hear it from him because he would never sugarcoat anything from anyone, least of all you

deeply emotional — his greatest wish is to see you happy and will go to great lengths to fulfil it whether it’s just going out to get your favourite snack or helping you through a more serious problem

HATES !!!! absolutely DETESTS to see you upset — if it’s anyone specific that’s it they’re getting their shit ROCKED

super observant !! this man picks up on how you’re feeling, whether you need help or simply want to be in his presence — either way, he senses and comforts you in the best way

LOVESSSS to sing to you — for him it’s one of the most intimate acts he can offer, so at any time when you both are alone, he will play with your hair as he sings a soft melody to you

is actually kinda clingy — once he’s most himself with you he always wants to hold your hand or at least be closer to you, even in certain public areas — it makes you MELT because it means he fully accepts and sees you as his own

basically, you could not live without this man — he is the epitome of collected, trustworthy and deeply affectionate goodness

HUENINGKAI

oh my goodness

hyuka would literally never stop screaming about you

some goon could be talking about the presidential elections and hyuka will still manage to slide you into the conversation — eventually someone will tell him to shut the fuck up (he won’t listen though)

HUGS GALORE !!! this man would never stop he NEEDS to have his arms around you or how will he survive ??!?!

is never too shy or proud to declare his undying love for you — one time he shouted it a little too loud and it resulted in him getting a warning from the neighbours

no barriers !!! this man would tell you EVERYTHING about his life it does not remotely matter how insignificant it is he will report it to you

spontaneous as fuck !! wanna go midnight shopping for instant noodles in your pjs?? travel to another city on a whim of a decision? hyuka’s the one you seek

super emotional — not like taehyuns, where it is more suppressed — his is an all out spectacle — if you guys have a fight, he WILL cry his eyes out

sleepovers ALWAYS have to include the both of you making pillow forts in your bedrooms while watching some fantasy adventure — you both end up sleeping in your creation

although you will grow up, hyuka is the man you can still be a child with and enjoy yourself

[crybabykiko]

hi honeyyy can i have nsfw a-z alphabet for tsukishima please 👉👈? thank you 💞

I’ve had this in my inbox for like a month I am SORRY.

*deep inhale* TSUKKI FUCKERS RUN IN HERE AND GET Y’ALL JUICE

NSFW Alphabet: Tsukishima Kei

Gn!reader focused

Nsfw under the cut but you knew that...

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

I actually feel like he’s not too big on this part. He will 100% do what he needs to make you feel comfortable if he’s been particularly hard on you, but he will do the bare minimum, simply because he’s not the best at being very soft. It’s just not him. I feel like he actually would prefer to be alone and recollect himself rather than cuddle and do pillow talk. That doesn’t mean that he won’t if you need it, he most definitely will because he knows how important it is. Just don’t expect to be babied.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

FINGERS FINGERS FINGERS I WILL NOT STOP SCREAMING ABOUT THEM! They’re long and slender- they always fit perfectly inside or around your neck or in your mouth and just... yes. Yes to his fingers.

For him, it’s all about the eyes. He loves looking at your eyes and the various emotions they convey to him, be it adoration, panic, arousal, devotion… he loves looking directly into your pretty eyes as he takes you.

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

In your mouth. I can’t explain why I’m right but I’m right. I don’t think he’s a fan of mess per-se, but from time to time he will want to cum on your face/chest for a lil ✨humiliation✨. I’m also positive he drinks water so when he tells you to swallow it won’t be radioactive or thick like tar. Good job to him for that. (God the bar is on the mf floor)

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

You caught him jacking off one time and he actually makes the prettiest noises- he’s usually pretty quiet with you but by himself it’s actually symphonic how desperate he sounds. He doesn’t know you saw him, but now you ONLY think about how his name spilled out of your lips each time you touch yourself too.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

Has much more experience in theory than in practice. He’s VERY knowledgeable about topics primarily based on his own research. He can implement just about anything to your liking though, which is the real reason he’s a great fuck. He’s adaptable without sacrificing too much of his own pleasure.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

This can go one of two ways imo- If he’s feeling lazy, he’ll sit in a chair and have you ride him. If he’s actually putting in work, he’ll hold one of your legs up/back (never both bc it’d probably kill you) or he’ll flip you into doggy, but he’ll make sure you keep your arch as low as possible, so you’re almost parallel to the mattress.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Lmfao no.

𝕳 - ��𝖆𝖎𝖗

He’s very well groomed as well. His hair is darker than his blonde locks, but he prefers keeping it short and neat. Not completely shaven, but trimmed on a schedule tbh. Also never smells like ball sweat.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖞

You would think a super sadist like Tsukishima doesn’t do the romantic gestures, but he does little things like making sure you’re stable and secure when he’s holding you up, or giving some VERY light praise when you take him well- you have to put attention or you’ll miss them.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

Tries his best to act like he doesn’t- but he does fairly often. Probably once a week tbh. He makes sure that he’s completely alone tho, because he’s very vulnerable and loud… also aggressive? It’s just a complete 180 from what he’s like with you and he doesn’t want you to know that. But he whines and whimpers the entire time, cumming in his fist and laying there convulsing.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Sadism is the overall mf flavor. But we knew that. Let’s delve a little deeper:

Impact Play, yes very much. Likes spanking as a punishment, but will also slap you in the face from time to time, especially if you’re not answering him or being loud enough to his liking.

Temperature Play, prefers using heat over cold, so he would definitely be into wax. Also turns on the heat in your room when you’re fucking like it’s hot yoga or some shit.

Degradation/Humiliation, has you make messes on purpose, just so he can tease you about it later. Calls you mean names the entire time- but they’re peppered with the tiniest praises, he will follow pretty with cockslut, and such. Will ALWAYS refer to you as his “messy little bitch” without fail. It’s his go-to. Also a fan of “fucktoy” and “pathetic cocksleeve”

Auralism, specifically likes when your moans are choked out sobs, or when you work your voice so raw that it gets scratchy and hoarse. Likes to hear you in general, and will always ask you for a response. Also talks you through your orgasms with little things like “that’s it” and “keep cumming”

Dacryphilia, oh god he loves to see you cry. That’s the one thing that can make him cum almost immediately.

He also HATES a bratty sub. Needs someone who is very obedient. Likes to be called Sir.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Literally ONLY in private. He’s all about control and knows that he can assert that control in every way possible in the bedroom. And even though he gets off on humiliation, it’s only when he’s the one doing it- proving he owns you without the threat of lingering eyes.

Would be the type to totally soundproof a room in your house tho, if you’re picking up why I’m putting down. Has gotten several “home improvement” project ideas from kinktok.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

His goal is to break you. No matter how many times he’s done it before, he always wants to see that perfectly fucked out glassy sheen coat your eyes as they’re filled to the brim with tears- and complete devotuon and total submission to him.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝕺!

He is never going to submit to you. It’s just not going to happen. Give it up, deelishis.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Is not the biggest fan of going down on you, prefers using his fingers/other toys. But he LOVES facefucking you. Especially if he can make you cry with how much his cock is bruising your throat.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It’s mostly even. Mostly. He definitely will edge as a punishment, snapping his hips into you violently, only to stop completely just when your eyes start to roll back. He definitely likes to maintain control of his own orgasm though so he likes to keep a nice even pace if you’re not being a brat.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

Wont outright fuck you in public but would use remote controlled toys on you. He prefers taking his time with you, building you up super slowly so that he can knock you the fuck down in an instant.

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

If you think you can try him, no you can’t. He will shut it down IMMEDIATELY. Again, he’s not one for super public scenes, so he’s good at keeping a poker face whenever you decide to get bold… but you have to be prepared because your punishment is either going to be super harsh or nothing at all- and I honestly can’t tell you which is worse when it comes to him.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

It depends on how he’s feeling. If you’ve been good he’ll get right to the point but if you’ve been disobeying him then be prepared to have your sessions drawn out. He can go on edging you for hours and not feel a single thing. He can still last a relatively long time if he’s actually fucking you as well, a good 45-an hour before he even thinks about cumming. And that’s just thinking about it. He can still go a bit longer after the fact. He won’t cum until you’ve cum at least 2-3 times if he’s being nice.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He has a few toys that he likes to use as punishment, primarily small vibrators that he can put inside of you to have you coming undone before he even touches you. When he finally does, you're a wet, whining mess and all he has to say is that you’re pathetic for not being able to even wait for him to touch you.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

Hates being teased. Don’t even try or think about trying it. Doesn’t necessarily tease you either, at least not TOO much. Will edge you to hell and back though.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Doesn’t want to give you the satisfaction of hearing how pretty he truly sounds, so a lot of his moans come out as long sighs and deep grunts that he catches in the back of his throat. And that’s only when he’s close.

He does talk a lot though, and is vocal in that sense- you’ll hear a lot of commands from him. You have to ask him for permission to cum, so there’s a lot of call and response when it comes to your sessions.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

He has this fantasy where he’s essentially his partner’s sex toy master and you’re the toy, He would use remote-control vibrators to make you come throughout the day. You don’t get a say in when you come, it’s just whenever he wants. In front of your boss, on the train, when you're trying to go shopping, whenever. It’s equal parts humiliating and sexy for you both, because you can’t stop orgasming. You’re completely at his mercy.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

He’s a good size, a solid 6.5-7 with a decent girth. More of a shower than a grower and actually has a fairly pretty dick. Fair but even in color, suuuuper pretty and pink at the head.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Even though he’s about exerting complete control, and also the type to never let on that he’s needy, he is. His sex drive is slightly higher than yours... But you’d never know. He’s just that good at 1) covering it up, and 2) flipping the script to always make you seem like cockhungry one... asshole

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

No sleeping. Tbh I feel like he’s one of those people who actually gets a burst of energy after. But he’s not sleeping at all. He’s just gonna go back to his headphones or some quiet activities until you wake up.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @super-noya @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @makemealive @ukaic @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith

[with-love-anu]

Chances

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: Sirius is the asshole of your group who seems bent on pissing you off

Warnings: Swearing, Sirius being a bully

Word Count: 1,848

Asshole. He was a complete nauseating asshole. Honestly you didn’t know why you let him get that much to you. You tried to breathe. That fucking man-child Sirius just ruined your notes. Those notes you spent so much time creating and what was his response again? Ooopsie.

“(Y/n), you’re really scary when you are angry.” Sirius said performing spells to repair the damage.

“Am I?” you scoffed. “Perhaps, if I would have been, people would not try to test me!”

“Hey calm down, chill, okay?” He said with a smirk that made you wish to rip his mouth. “Here’s your notes; as good as new.”

He looked smug at the moment, gesturing the notes towards you as if trying to calm a rabid dog. Argghhh. Maybe you would become one, Sirius was in fact capable of bringing out worst in people. You snatched your notes and went away with a huff.

“You can thank me later!” Sirius called after you.

He hated you. That had become a well known fact. Why? You had no idea. You remembered being actually friends with him once. Good friends. Then one day, he just turned cold. You had tried to talk to him. But between him ignoring you completely and him shouting, “Are you that dumb, I don’t want to talk to you; move along!!” in front of the great hall you got the message. You remember running into the washroom and crying your eyeballs out. After that you stopped talking to him. You still hung out with Remus and James. Whenever he would be in the group, he would sometimes make snarky remarks at you, or ignore you otherwise. You would reply back with a scoff or just roll your eyes and continue your conversation with others. It hurt, it really did; but you had mastered to not let it show.

It was the potions class. Professor Slughorn had placed a golden yellow potion in front of you all. It looked gorgeous. Bubbles burst around, making it look heavenly. You fidgeted in excitement. You knew what it was.  

“Can anyone tell me what this is?” the professor asked. You shot your hand up immediately.

“Yes, Miss (Y/l/n)?”

“Felix Felicis, also called "Liquid Luck", is a potion that makes the drinker lucky for a period of time, during which everything they attempt will be successful. It is meant to be used sparingly, however, as it causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence if taken in excess.” You said in one breath.

“Oh, so you took it today before coming to class?” Sirius sneered and everyone rolled out laughing causing your cheeks to burn. You stared straight ahead not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction. You bit your tongue. Your mother taught you, bullies would always try to get on your nerves, to reply or remark back will only make them stronger.

“Be nice to them, it will have a far greater effect. Help everyone and never speak words full of hatred. Doing that you not only hurt the person you say it to but also yourself. We don’t get to choose people who come into our lives, they maybe good or bad. Most of them will disappoint you, hurt you; but you must remember- you are stronger. I am in no way am telling you to let people take advantage of your generosity. You will be stronger because you didn’t cause the same pain which made you want to kill them, smack them, kick them in the shins so they cry out.” You giggled. Your mother smiled.

“Let go. Move on. Ignore them. It takes strength, it’s a power that belongs only to the greatest of men.”

But urge to smack him right in the face so his jaw broke was so damn strong. You took a deep breath, in and out.

“Mr. Black! How dare you! You just insulted one of my best students. You need the potion much more than she does, even to pass this class! So, I would insist you to take out your book and start studying.”

You did not expect that. People around you snickered and snorted. You didn’t dare look at Sirius. You wanted to smile, but you couldn’t. You remembered him sitting for hours in the library with Remus to work on potions. Perhaps, this was a bit too harsh.

***

You were all sitting in the library, talking about the upcoming hogsmede weekend.

“My Lily flower here, has finally agreed to go out with me as a couple!” James said putting an arm around Lily. Lily blushed.

“Well, you did promise me anything I want from honeydukes.” She told him leaning into James embrace.

“(Y/n) what about you, got any plans?” Remus asked.

“You’re asking (Y/n)? I doubt she could get a date in a million years being the know it all, we all know she is.”

You sucked a breath. James and Remus glared at him and were ready to launch when someone put an arm around you.

“(Y/n), babe?” you turned to see Sebastian standing close behind you.

Sebastian and you were weird friends. You were completely honest with one-another, understanding each-others choices and flirted with each other for fun. You would definitely count him as one of your best friends.

“Guys can I borrow my girl for a moment?” Sebastian said flashing a grin towards your friends. My girl? What was he doing?

Everyone nodded and Sebastian took you a little away, but you were sure everyone could still see you. You raised an eyebrow at Sebastian when he placed his hands on the sides of your waist.

“Listen (Y/n), I heard that ass-hole talk shit about and I couldn’t help it. You’re one of prettiest, kindest girls in school and I would have taken you out any day but that would just have complicated things between us.”

He was helping you?

“God! Am I that pathetic?” You said looking away not sure what felt worse.

Sebastian rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I am just going to assume you didn’t say that. Really? You believing that piece of shit now?”

You let out a small laugh smiling at Sebastian.

“You’re the best!” you said sniffing.

“Of course I am! I am bloody perfect, darling!” he said kissing your cheek.

“Okay, so you are coming with me next hogsmede weekend. We’ll show those fuckers what a perfect couple looks like.” He said with a glint in his eyes.

You laughed.

“Is that so, honey?” you said playing with his tie.

“Oh yes, baby girl!” he said with a wink, leaving.

Unknowns’ to you Sirius watched your interaction with Sebastian with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. He hated it. He hated himself. He was in love with you since the 2nd year and in the process of realizing it he panicked. He thought maybe if he was mean to you, you would hate him and return the favor. But you never did. You continued to behave civilly to him and even came forward to help him when he was struggling. And how did he repay you? By being an ass. His heart clenched every single time he teased you to get on your nerves and his stomach twisted in knots. He could never have you. Not someone as sweet as you.

***

You were going through the corridors when you heard shouts. You turned and sprinted towards their direction. You saw Avery and Mulciber dueling with Sirius. They shot a spell towards him and he fell back.

“Expelliamus!!” you shouted and caught their wands. They widened their eyes.

“You’ll get these back from Slughorn” you said in a sharp tone that left no arguments. They huffed and walked away. You turned towards Sirius. Shit he was bleeding.

“Fuck- that’s a nasty cut Sirius!” you said concerned. You concentrated and performed some healing spells. Sirius watched you intensely.

“This is going to sting, okay?” you said to Sirius but all he did was stare with an expression you couldn’t quite place. So, you returned to patching him up, trying not to squirm under his gaze.

He hissed. You gulped and tried not to shake. After you finished, you helped him stand. You looked at him and noticed he was still watching you.

“I’m gonna go and give these to Slughorn,” you said indicating the wands. “You go back to the common room and eat something, preferably chocolate.”

“Why?” he said his eyes not leaving you.

“Why what?” you asked confused.

“Why did you help me, even though I am so awful to you?” he asked.

You huffed. So, that is what this is about. As angry you were at him all the time, you couldn’t see him being beaten mercilessly.

“I am a prefect. I am supposed to stop fights.” You said as you turned to leave.

“I’m sorry” he called out loud. You turned and said, “What?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being the biggest pile of dip-shit you’ve ever seen. For every single mean comment I said not meaning it. I’m sorry for being a pain in the ass, for being so bloody damn rude even though all you’ve ever been was sweet to me.”

You stared at him. He was apologizing?

“You’re a great person (Y/n), I don’t think I’ve seen anyone match your beauty or your wit. You’re so generous that I sometimes wonder if it’s humanely possible, whether you’re real. You help anyone and everyone if they need it, never asking anything in return. And I’m grateful and thankful for how you’ve treated me and am insanely humiliated at my own behavior.” Sirius huffed. It felt like every single thing he had pent up was coming out. He wanted to shout, to scream, to let this wonderful girl standing near him know, know that she was amazing, that he was sorry, that he… he liked her so damn much it had started to hurt him. Breathing deeply he looked at her.

You were stunned. You didn’t know what to say. Your ex-friend was giving you all these praises and compliments and sincerely apologizing for being a goddamn git. You knew for a fact that the word “sorry” never came out of Sirius’s mouth; not even for teachers.

“Well, say something?” Sirius said in a small voice.

“I don’t know what to say. You’ve been so rude to me since so many years that I started to be disappointed on just seeing you. Now, you’re saying all these things, which are flattering but, how could I forgive you in just one day? How could I forget what you did to me?”

“Don’t. I want to ask for a chance, to remedy what I did wrong. I know it can’t be done overnight, but I’ll makeup for it eventually. I promise.” He said sincerely.

“Work for it. If I think you're as sincere and want my friendship as much as you say, I'll give you a chance. Not a moment before.” You said. Sirius nodded slowly. You took a deep breath turning and leaving. What did you just agree to?

A/N: Let me know what you think!

[universalcataclysm]

Once Upon A Time.

With - Ty Lodgston. (@nxclearwinterxx​​) Where - The Myer’s Yacht; Murphy’s Fairytale Fling Party. When - Seven months before the end. 

The evening air was balmy enough that Iza was almost regretting his choice in costume, especially now that he had a few drinks in him; Well. Drinks amongst other substances. There was the coke. And that delivery guy he’d swallowed down in the bathroom half an hour ago, the douchebag who had ruined his makeup and hadn’t even returned the favor. Honestly, Iza should have shoved him overboard.

But it was fine. The night was young and so was he. He’d fixed his makeup and it looked better the second time around than it had the first, and his outfit, despite being warmer than the short shorts and tank/polo/crop- top combo he usually defaulted to during the hotter months, was to die for. A silky baby blue swavorski studded number that even Iza’d had to question if it verged on being too gaudy, thigh- high silver boots, a lacy white capelet that perfectly matched the lacy underbust corset around his waist and his white bowtie and mask, because of course he had to play up the mystery aspect of his chosen fairytale. And then there was the ribbon, also baby blue silk and tied in a bow around his pristine blonde bun, a tiny glass slipper charm pinned right in the middle of the bow.

Over the top? Maybe. But that was just who he was, and he wouldn’t feel shame over it. Besides, yeah, he looked good.

And he was feeling good as his dearest friend’s party started coming to life. First came the earlybirds, those they knew well enough to feel comfortable to swing in for a little pregaming; a few people who Iza hated, most who he was neutral towards, one or two he sort of liked. His phone buzzed in his pocket. A text from his boyfriend, an apology for how he wouldn’t be making it tonight; Iza sent a series of sad emojis and rolled his eyes. Fucker was always complaining about pre- med homework, blah blah. Boring. Iza wasn’t sure why he hadn’t broken up with him yet, but he secretly kind of liked the stupid couple stuff. Luckily for them both, because that was about all there was between them these days, and even that was scarce. 

Whatever. Just meant there was one less complication in his plan to get railed tonight. 

His phone was turned off after that, and from then on the party steadily grew wilder and wilder. He was a little nervous being in too close of quarters with the drunk assholes, even though he was an asshole who definitely couldn’t be called sober, because this delicate outfit was too nice to ruin yet. So instead of squirming his way to the center of the dancing crowd, as he might have at any other party, he flitted to and fro, downing shots at what would have been an alarming rate if his tolerance hadn’t been so high and chatting up familiar faces and gathering up as much juicy gossip as he could. Wise to do that from time to time, collect useful knowledge, bolster a few fake friendships. He was in a good mood, thriving off of the company, the blissfully exciting vibe that accompanied a booming party, and the spirits.

And then he was catching sight of the most beautiful face he’d ever laid eyes on and choking vodka up his nose in the least graceful manner he’d ever displayed. 

It took him a moment to recover from that, coughing and swiping at his nose and watering eyes and trying to tame his wildly beating heart, but eventually he regained something resembling composure and waved off the hands patting his back and the people questioning whether he was okay, if he needed some water, if he needed Murphy. He didn’t need water, didn’t need to disturb Murphy, and he was- well. Something else. 

The man had only just boarded the yacht, and there was a girl with him. Girlfriend? Iza felt a reflexive swell of loathing, but she disappeared pretty quickly and that was either a good sign or a terrible one. Either they weren’t a couple, or they were an unhappy or distant one that would be easy enough for Iza to sink his claws into the handsome Prince- literally, he was Prince Charming, the prettiest one at this party- or they were a couple so established and trusting in each other that they didn’t feel the need to stay attached at the hip.

It wasn’t impossible to seduce someone in a relationship like that, but it was a little more work than Iza’d intended on putting in tonight.

This guy, though- Iza wanted him.

It was weird, though. Oftentimes when he set his sights on a man it was with the intent of getting him into the nearest semi- private area- if that- and trading orgasms as quick as possible before moving on to the next, and shit, sure he wanted that with this guy too, but... just... weird. He was struggling to get past how much he wanted to go over and introduce himself. Get a closer look at the man. Or just stay here and admire him and internally gush from afar. 

Then, Iza could have sworn that the man looked right at him, eye contact from across the deck of this overloaded yacht, and something in his chest rose up and overflowed- seconds passed, and then he blinked, and it was over, leaving him to wonder if it had ever even happened at all. Between his fuzzy thoughts, jelly knees, dizzy head and racing heart, Iza had to wonder if someone had snuck something into his drink again- but he decided this didn’t feel like last time. It was a different kind of scary.

He chugged down half his drink because his mouth had gone terribly dry and decided, nope, legs weren’t working anytime soon, but hey, at least he had a good view. Maybe it was creepy to just fucking stare at someone, but it was a big party, lots of people. He could have been looking at anyone and anything. He was just hanging out. Relaxing. Nursing his drink. It was fine. It was the finest night of his entire life. Definitely.

And then that eye contact thing that he maybe but surely couldn’t be imagining happened again, and luckily he wasn’t trying to take a drink that time, but god, that swoopy feeling in his stomach sure returned with a vengeance. What the fuck, honestly? Where the fuck was Murphy? He’d have an explanation for this. His explanation would probably be something along the lines of you need to get dicked down, and as always, he would be right.

Iza drew in a deep breath and counted down from a hundred, calming his stupid ass down and attempting to return his heartrate to normal. Maybe he’d just had too much cocaine. Maybe that was to blame for this. There had to be some sort of logical explanation- the dicking down, he reminded himself. Dick. Solved all problems, didn’t it? 

It dawned on him then that this was the longest he’d refrained approaching a target in- well, ever, probably. This was fucking unprecedented, and now that he’d come to that realization, well, he certainly couldn’t stand for it.

Of course that eye- contact- that- nearly- killed- him thing would happen again right then, and Iza all but whined, deflating against the railing and resolving himself to marching over there as soon as he was sure he could trust his legs. This was ridiculous. He was going to dance with that man and prove to them both that the Prince had absolutely no magic powers over him, and- and horrorstruck, Iza realized that the very thought of a simple dance with the man had him blushing. And not a cute, faint little blush either, it was a full- faced, red heated mess, he could feel it. 

Briefly, he considered throwing himself overboard before he bit the bullet and slipped through the crowd. He wasn’t sure what the fuck was wrong here, he only knew he had to fix it immediately, whatever it took.

It was easy enough to sneak through the maze of bodies until he was behind the Prince, but it took him a few moments to boost up his courage enough to speak, and that was another thing on an ever- growing list of shit he wasn’t used to. He took a sip of his bubbly drink for courage and then fixed a coy grin on his face, leaving the flute lifted near his lips as if pretending to hide and wrapping his free arm around his waist, a totally casual picture. Not at all the fluttery gay disaster he’d been turned in to inside. “I’m fairly certain this is the part where you’re meant to ask me to dance,” Iza told him, trying valiantly to steel himself for when this man turned around and Iza was met head- on with the full force of what Iza knew would be devastating beauty. “It is how the story goes, you know?” 

[pillow-anime-talk]

Can I request a Bakugou scenario where his crush and one of the girls like Tsuyu or someone from class were out on the weekend. And this guy comes bugging y/n for the other girl's number while Bakugou, running errands happens by and his jealousy causes him to misunderstand the situation that the guy was into his crush

# tags: scenario; U.A!au; crush culture; light!comedy; light!fluff; plot twist?; jealous!baku; sfw

includes: female readet ft. katsuki bakugo {bnha}

author’s note: thank you so much, cutie!

Like every Saturday, you went out to the gallery with Tsuyu. This girl was your best and closest friend at school and in the classroom, so spending time with her was extremely pleasant and simply interesting.

After very successful shopping, you and Asui decided to go to the cafe for something sweet and warm. You bet on a caramel cappuccino and cherry pie. Tsuyu chose green tea and carrot cake with chocolate.

It was 5 P.M and there weren’t many people in the cafe. Honestly, regular customers were here right now like this businessman with grey suit or a young mother with a child… However, you did talk to your friend; about the next exams, class trip and the delicacy of cakes you’ve ate right now.

You were so absorbed in the conversation with the frog girl that you didn’t notice Bakugo standing on the other side of the window. He was also surprised by you, but he decided to enter the cafe. Unfortunately, he noticed Asui’s figure when he was at the doorstep, so his plan to talk to you was lost. And now… It was stupid to leave the coffee shop when he had just entered it. So he took a seat near you and Tsuyu and hoped that the girl would leave the cafe faster than you. Then he would have the opportunity to talk to you and maybe… take you for a walk.

Bakugo hid his feelings very well. In the eyes of others he was really insolent, loud and self-righteous, so it was difficult to read anything else from his expression or body. So nobody knew that he had liked you for several months. Also only recently he have the courage to make gentle movements in your direction; like when he helped you carry boxes, clean up equipment after training, ask if you want something from a drinks machine… And even once time he given you his sweatshirt when two of you returned late at night to dorms after a class trip to the cinema. Goddamn! Like no one else, he was worried about you when you reached the semi-finals during the Sports Festival and when fighting Todoroki you suffered frostbite and light burns. He thought then that he would kill this half-and-half shitty boy.

Anyway, now he had the courage to tell you how much you meant to him and how many times you helped him when he had the flu, he didn’t know how to do a literature task or when he cut himself while peeling vegetables for soup.

The sound of the sliding chair and the figure of Tsuyu, who walked toward the toilet, pulled him out of his thoughts. It seemed like a good opportunity to kidnap you for a moment, but then, when he was about to get up, the waitress came up to him and a chair in front of you was taken by a stranger young man.

“Could I pick up your order?“

“Hey… Could I… The phone number?” He heard between the lines and clenching his fists.

“Latte.”

“Ugh. I don’t give numbers to strangers… Sorry.” He smiled lightly at that answer, looking back at the blonde waitress.

“Something sweet? I recommend chocolate cake with strawberries and…”

“Yes, but.. I liked… Person.” Bakugo looked at you and the brown-haired boy sitting next to you. He felt his blood warm and buzzing again. And this annoying waitress… Shut the fuck up, fuckers.

“Coffee is enough.”

“So… Just a name?”

“If you need something, please go to the counter. Your coffee will be ready in…” He looked at your nervous person.

Should he help you?

“You’re too annoying.”

“Please.”

“No.”

Okay, he should help.

He got up from his seat and with a poker face came to your table with lots of bags around. “Any problems?” He asked, standed next to you and placing his hand on the back of your chair. “If she doesn’t want to give you her number, get away, sucker.”

“And who are you? A lawyer?”

“Just go away. You won’t get her number anyway, you know it, right? Do you think you’re worthy for Y/N? I don’t think so.” He grunted, squeezing fingers on the dark wood. “Someone as annoying as you deserves a dead hamster, not a girl. So, yeah. Get out before I get you out of here personally.”

You looked at your friend who said such beautiful things about you. Your cheeks blushed, not only because of his words, but also… You had hope that he didn’t heard what you said about him to Asui. Like: you like him for a long time and you wanted to invite him to the upcoming prom at school. Oh my God…

To your luck, the stranger boy left. You looked at Bakugo and got up. “Katsuki …”

“He scared you? Should I kill him or something…”

“No, no. Easy… But thank you for helping me. He wanted Tsuyu’s number and…”

“Tsuyu?”

“Yes. He said he liked her face – whatever that meant – and I didn’t know what to do. You didn’t have to worry about me, by the way. I doubt anyone would want my number… You know, I’m not the most attractive.” You scratched your neck.

“What the fuck.” He grunted once again and looking at you. “You’re the prettiest girl that I know. Don’t say stupid things. It irritate me.”

“What?”

“I won’t say it again. Will you be here long? Where’s the Frog?”

“Oh, I… We finished eating, so…”

“Y/N is something happened? Kium. Hi, Bakugo.” Oh. She came back. Thanks, God.

“Great, Frog. You’ll go back to the dormitory alone, because I’m taking Y/N for a… walk.”

You looked at your bestfriend who just stuck out her tongue and nodded lightly.

Your cheeks blushing again.

“By the way.” Bakugo started. “You should wear a palarizer for a such creeps like him. Now let’s go for a walk. I will help you with shopping. And no comments, please.”

Now the question is: Which of the two of you earlier will shout out your own feelings during this long walk?

[izzy-b-hands]

Rock/Queentober 2020, Oct. 18th: Light

Assigned band member: Roger

Synopsis: Roger/Trans M Reader. Set about 1978 because I wanted it to be lol. You’ve hit a rough patch in life as of the last few days, but at least you have your health, your things, and a cigarette or two that you can smoke to deal with the stress. That you should meet Roger is pure chance, but lucky chance indeed.  

TW: Cigarettes and smoking, mentions of fears over period typical homophobia and transphobia. Mention of potential homelessness. 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“Got a light?” 

You shake your head and raise your own unlit cigarette. “No matches, lighter is empty. Been hoping someone else would happen along with a light.” 

“Aren’t we a pair then?” he smiles, and you can’t help but feel a bit dazzled. Even with sunglasses hiding part of his face, you can tell he is perhaps one of the prettiest men you’ve ever met. With blonde hair artfully ruffled (though he almost certainly didn’t do it on purpose, if you had to guess), a smile like that, and the way the tight t-shirt he’s wearing under his coat had shifted up just a bit to show some of the skin at his hip...

Well. Your friends did tease you for having a type. 

“Pissing like this all day, no wonder no one else is out,” he sighs and gestures to the rain, that had started pouring that morning lightly and showed no signs of stopping. 

“A little dreary,” you admit. “But I don’t mind it.” 

“Might have guessed,” he smiles again and god he really should warn a guy before he does that, because your heart just flutters, and the rain may be cold but you’re suddenly very warm. 

You shrug. “Nowhere else to go right now anyway. May as well enjoy the day for what it is.” 

He nods, and you hope he hasn’t noticed your shivering. You’ve got your warmest jacket on, but the wind and rain are really doing a number on you. 

“You know, the shop down the way has matches. Why don’t we go together and pick some up? Can at least be smoking, if we’re going to be out in this,” he says. 

“Oh, that’s okay, I-” you pause. ‘Have no money to my name and so can’t pay you back for the matches and the last thing I want to do is take advantage of your kindness, you gorgeous man’ is not the way you want to end your sentence, but it’s the most truthful way. 

Somehow, he knows, or maybe your situation is more evident than you think. “Let me get them, don’t worry about money or whatever. Only matches anyway, and I don’t mind doing a favor for someone as handsome as you.” 

You blush. So forward! But you���d be lying if you didn’t admit to yourself that you loved it. There was always the worry, the what-if that the guy you’re talking to isn’t gay (and worse yet might chase you off down the road if they gleaned that you were, and even worse if they sussed out that you were trans too.) It was a weight off your shoulders to have that what-if erased, especially after the day you’d been having. 

“Long as I’m not keeping you from anything,” you manage as you stumble over your tongue.

“Nah. My band is in that building there,” he points to the nearby studio, a nondescript dark brick building. “Recording, but we were on overdub number 9000 and I was dying, so I snuck out.” 

“They’ll have noticed you’re gone by now!” 

“Yeah, but they aren’t out looking for me yet, so I’m safe,” he grins. “Come on. It’ll get us out of the rain for a bit, and we can finally light up.” 

You nod, and follow him down the street, both of you huddled over as the rain pours slightly harder. 

“Roger,” he offers his name with another smile, and are your knees weak or are you just that cold? 

“Y/N,” you offer back. 

“Y/N,” he repeats softly. “So, what are you doing out here anyway?” 

You bite your lip anxiously. “It’s awkward. Lost my flat today; contract was up and the landlord waited until today to drop on me that he had a new tenant all lined up already, willing to pay triple what I was paying.” 

“Fucker,” Roger spits. “Where are your things?” 

“You know those bushes and shrubs we were standing by?” you ask.

He nods.

“I’ve got my two suitcases hidden in there for now, so it might be a little less obvious why I’m wandering the streets with no apparent purpose,” you continue. 

He gives you a look, and before you can stop him, jogs back to the bushes. 

He returns more slowly, weighed down by the suitcase in each hand, his still unlit cigarette carefully crooked in between his fingers on his left hand. 

“You didn’t have to-” 

“We are not leaving your shit to be stolen,” he interrupts with a shocked laugh. “Honestly. No, I’ll help you carry and look after it.” 

He won’t hand over the heavier of the suitcases as you reach the shop, no matter how much you try and insist. 

“Look,” you gently grab his shoulder before you go into the shop. “I’m not...trying to take advantage of anyone’s charity. With this. I mean, I wasn’t raised that way.” 

He cocks his head. “American.” 

“What?” 

“Thought the accent seemed off. You’ve been here awhile, but not long enough to sound like you didn’t move here from elsewhere. And only an American would say something silly like that.” 

“You caught me,” you smile. “But really-” 

“Please,” he interrupts as he leads the way into the shop. “Let me help. I want to, or I wouldn’t be here, I promise. I’d be on overdub 3 million with no voice left at all in the studio instead.” 

“And dying for a smoke?” 

“That too,” he replies as he speeds through the transaction for the matches, not that the clerk seems to care. 

“I don’t mean to pry,” he says as you both step back outside, the rain still pouring away heavily. “But where are you planning on going?” 

“Isn’t that the question,” you sigh, watching as he motions you over off the sidewalk so he can set your suitcase down and light his cigarette. “I don’t know? I think the park nearby could be safe...but I don’t think I can just choose a bench and sleep, the police will come shoo me away I’m sure. But if I rest, and go from bench to bench, maybe...” 

He takes off his sunglasses, and you’re met with big blue eyes, full of concern. “What about your job?” 

You nod. “It’s been a week, for me. I got let go a few days ago. They could afford to keep me, or one of my friends at the shop...and I lost that battle.” 

He frowns, and takes your cigarette from you, lighting it with his. “Well, I don’t know if I have a job for you, I have to check on that. But I’ve got a room, or I will have in a day.” 

You’re in awe over the most casually romantic thing anyone’s done for you before, his thing with the cigarettes, but you manage a weak gasp. “You don’t know me.” 

“Not yet I don’t,” he agrees as he hands back your cigarette. “But I tell you what. You come back to the studio with me. Get out of the rain, have dinner with us. Then we’ll all know you well.” 

“But-” 

“I won’t press it if you aren’t comfortable with it,” he interrupts gently. “But I do need a new roommate. My old one, our singer, has been dating the guitarist for a bit, and they’re finally moving in together. So I need someone in the room regardless. And we may not know each other too well yet, but I know you’re handsome, kind, and I don’t want to see you out on the streets. Personally, I think something aligned so that we’d meet up today.” 

“It isn’t that I’m uncomfortable with it,” you admit. “I just...if my family knew I was taking someone’s kindness like this, the things they’d say...” 

“Where are they, back in America?” Roger asks as he picks up your suitcase, and starts down the road towards the studio, with you on his heels. 

“Yeah,” you reply. 

“Well then, sounds like what they think doesn’t matter for this situation, because they aren’t here for it,” he continues. “You’re here, it’s your situation, and you get to decide what you want to do about it.” 

“That...is a very good point,” you say. 

“Every now and again I manage them,” he grins, even as the tree you’re passing dumps a decent puddle of water on him, nearly putting out his cigarette. “So. What do you, Y/N, want to do?” 

Your mother would scream at you to be wary of strangers, to trust your gut.

But your gut feels fine. In fact, this is the safest and happiest you’ve felt in weeks. It could be a mistake, yes, but it doesn’t feel like one, to trust Roger. 

“I want to try and find a new job, right away,” you start. “So I can start paying my portion of the rent at your flat, if you mean it, and you’ll really have me in as a roommate.” 

He stops in front of the door to the studio, and somehow that smile is even brighter than before, and your heart flutters yet again. 

“And...” you take a deep breath. “I may be misreading a signal, and if I am, please tell me and I’ll back off. But...I’m getting the feeling maybe I could end up being more. Than a roommate. And I would like that too, a lot, and there’s one other thing I should just ask rather than stumbling around it but-” 

He giggles as he stamps out his cigarette, too damp for him to finish. 

You toss yours aside and do the same. “Do I have to wait to kiss you until we get to your flat? Or can I do that now, before we go in?” 

The kiss he gives you, sweet and tinged with tobacco, is the answer you’d been hoping for. 

The door swings open, and a tall, curly-haired man scoffs. “There you fucking are!” 

“Here I fucking am,” Roger smirks. 

“Where did you go?” 

“Out for a smoke,” Roger replies taking your free hand as he pulls you along with him into the studio, past the man. “Made a friend too. Well, more than a friend, but it’s early.” 

“I...what...” the poor thing ruffles the curls that are long enough to hit his shoulders. “Fine, whatever. Pleased to meet you, ah...” 

“Y/N,” you say. “I’m taking over the spare room Roger said he’ll have in a day or so?” 

The man nods, and gestures to himself. “Brian. Freddie’s moving in with me tonight, actually. Thought it would take longer, but we realized he’s slowly dragged over most of his things already when he’s come over to mine, so there’s not much left to move.” 

“That’s fine,” Roger says, taking your other suitcase from you and setting both of them aside. “We might not need the extra room anyway.” 

It feels too forward to do more than nod, but in your head, you’re thrilled at the thought of going home with him tonight. And even better, the thought of coming home to him each day. It’s early days and you know better than to hang onto it all too hard, to presume it will all go perfectly. 

But all the same, this is the best and most secure you’ve felt about anything in ages, and when he introduces you to the rest of the band (the mentioned Freddie and their bassist, John), holding your hand and squeezing it ever so gently, it feels like another sign. 

This is going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. More than okay, even. 

The way things are looking, you might even be happy. 

[imaginejamesandsirius]

James comes back to life and realizes that Sirius, while being strong and tough as always, is also touch-starved but afraid of being close to people because touch always meant pain and now Sirius is back in Grimmauld Place because of Dumbledore and neither he nor James can bear it so James makes sure to take care of Sirius and get him used to being loved again, while also being extremely protective of his husband (sorry, I have a thing for protective James). Thank you!

Sirius wasn't used to people touching him anymore. When he was a kid, Orion and Walburga didn't 'believe' in it. Him and Regulus used to hug sometimes, and when they were really small, sometimes Reg would crawl into his bed after a nightmare. Becoming friends with James had completely turned that around in Hogwarts, and the marauders had been comfortable with each other, nudging and hugging whenever they bloody well felt like it. They'd gotten married, and they could hardly be in the same room with out an arm around each other or a hand on the other's shoulder. 

But then James and Lily and Regulus were all dead, Peter had betrayed them, and Remus was in the wind, either with Fenrir's pack or running away from them. And Sirius... well, he'd been in Azkaban for twelve years. Nobody touched him. He barely ever saw another human face, just a few times a year when Fudge would check in on the high security prisoners. He always felt most human when Fudge visited, but that was mostly because it brought Sirius a smidgen of joy to freak him out. Fudge would always leave after a few minutes, and all Sirius had was the company of Dementors, who made him feel like he'd never touched another living being in his entire life. 

He wasn't going to let his own sodding problems interfere with Harry though, so he made a point to hug him every time he saw him. Merlin knows the kid needs it. 

And now, somehow, James was back. There had been some spell that hit the Veil and the next thing everyone knew, James Potter was falling out of it, alive and looking exactly the way he had before he'd gotten killed. It had been a few days, and Sirius still didn't know what to think about it. James had spent most of that time getting shuffled from St. Mungo's to the Ministry and back, and since Sirius was still a fugitive, he couldn't go with him. Not that he wanted to. Remus and Harry and all other sorts of people were keeping him company as he got used to being alive again, and James was-- if not happy-- okay with it. Remus gave him updates, which mostly consisted of fire messages that James thought he was fine and wanted to go home and everyone else had to force him to stay put for the tests and questionnaires and whatever the hell else they were doing. Sirius wondered if James had asked about him. It used to be that you couldn't tear Sirius away from his side, and while he still felt that way (or close to it, at least), he wasn't the same person James had fallen in love with. 

So that's why Sirius was here. Laying on the floor of the Grimmauld Place dining room, staring at the ceiling. That was another thing that he hadn't gotten used to yet: soft beds. He couldn't do it even though he'd been staying in this fucking place for nearly a year. Laying on tile was about as good as it got. 

He heard Kreacher's shuffling steps, and then the house elf started to mutter, "Filthy blood traitor son of Mistress getting the floor dirty. Poor Kreacher keeps it clean and he does not-" 

"Sod off, Kreacher," Sirius said, and Kreacher turned around and started ambling away, talking about how distressed Walburga would be if she could see the house like this. Sirius rolled his eyes, then went back to feeling nothing but cold from the floor creeping up into his bones. It didn't feel good, but it felt familiar. 

He stayed there for a while, and he would've stayed there longer if he didn't hear the front door open and people start pouring in. He sighed, pushing himself up and moving to a chair. He had to pretend to be normal, or Molly would keep on with her campaign that Sirius wasn't suited to raising a child. Not that he'd ever thought he could do it in the first place. It had first been Lily's idea, then James's; Sirius was just along for the ride. 

James had a sixth sense for his location, he was sure of it. It was the only explanation he could think of for why James entered Grimmauld Place and immediately headed for the dining room, throwing open the door with an excited shout of, "Sirius!" A few people were trailing him-- Harry, Remus, Dora, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny-- but it was obvious that they were there for James, not Sirius. Not that Sirius minded, he wasn't exactly good company. James either didn't notice or didn't care, because he walked right up to Sirius and took the chair next to him, scooting closer and throwing an arm around his shoulders as casually as he ever had. "I'm alive! I know you already knew that, but it took these fuckers three days to make it official. Don't you think they should have been able to put it together before then? It's kinda obvious." Fred, George, and Ginny all went to the kitchen, and Dora followed them after glancing at Remus. 

"I think they were making sure you were going to stay that way," Remus said, leaning against the wall. 

James waved a hand dismissively. "Whatever. But in even better news, your case is going through!" 

A pause. 

"I thought you'd be more excited about that." 

Sirius shrugged. 

"You'll be able to move," Harry said. "I know you hate it here." 

"Eh." Of course he hated it here. He kind of hated it everywhere. 

"Which brings up a very good question. Why are you staying here?" James asked. 

"Dumbledore thought it was a good idea." 

"I'm sure he did," James said flatly. "That doesn't explain why you didn't bugger off to one of your houses." 

"You have other houses?" Harry asked. 

Sirius shook his head. "They're Potter properties." 

"Right, which means they're yours. Honestly Si, it's like you're not paying attention. This place is depressing. I think we should pack up and go to the one with the sheep farm next door. Or at least, it used to have a sheep farm next door. I suppose they could've moved, but Mrs. Smith seemed very fond of those things, it's hard to imagine she left. Anyways, there's a pond, the woods, and plenty of green. Anything would be an upgrade from this dismal place-- honestly, who thought this decoration was a good idea?-- but it's by far the prettiest." 

Sirius shrugged James's arm off of him, not looking at him so he wouldn't have to see the confused expression that doubtlessly crossed his face. "Yeah, well you and Harry can go live there and visit when you get the time." 

"Why wouldn't you come with us?" James asked, innocently confused. 

"I'm a fugitive, remember?" 

"Yeah, but that's not going to last." 

"You could come with us anyways," Harry said hopefully. "It's not as if Ministry officials are going to be dropping by, right?" 

"See? The prongslet makes a good point. You, me, Harry, maybe Remus if he stops being such a tosser about everything," James said, shooting a pointed look in Remus's direction. "It'll be great." 

"Yeah erm," Sirius swallowed, getting to his feet. "No thanks. You'll be fine on your own." He ruffled Harry's hair as he passed, not making eye contact with anyone as he went up to Buckbeak's room. 

James watched Sirius leave, frowning and beyond confused. He shot Harry a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, he gets in moods sometimes. We can look at some of the houses tomorrow, if you like?" 

"Er, sure. Are you sure he's okay?" Harry asked worriedly. 

"Yeah, he's fine." James gave him another smile, but he grabbed Remus's arm when he left the room, not letting go until they were alone in the sitting room. "Do you know what's wrong with him?" he asked quietly. 

"He was in Azkaban for over a decade," Remus replied, keeping his voice low as well. "He thought you were dead that entire time, and he's in hiding. He's never dealt well with being cooped up, and you know full well that you're the one thing he could never stand to lose. He's not... honestly James, there's so much that's wrong with him right now, I can't list it all." 

James blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair and making it stick up even more. "Right, I know, it's just. During the war and Harry being born and everything, he used to pretend that everything was fine. I guess I was expecting for him to be more like that." 

"Ten years without you," Remus reminded him. "He's not okay. Go bloody talk to him before he starts brooding for the next week." 

Remus expected for James to immediately turn and make his way up the stairs, but James stood there, chewing on his lip. "Are we even still married? It's. Y'know. Twelve years is a long time, he may not- I mean- what if he doesn't love me anymore?" 

"I can't answer that for him." 

"Right." James was worried about more, like how the hell he was supposed to raise Harry when he was only five years older than him now. He didn't know how the hell a relationship between him and Sirius would work even if Sirius did still want it to happen, because James was fifteen years younger than him. He didn't know if he was still considered Lord Potter or not. He didn't know how he'd manage to deal with any of this shite if Sirius wanted to go back to just being friends. How was James supposed to act around him if that happened? He couldn't imagine ever not being in love with him. 

He stood there for another minute, then shook his head defeatedly. When had Sirius ever listened to him? But he wasn't going to let that stop him from trying, so he trudged up the stairs, passing house elf heads that he wanted to rip down. Or maybe he just wanted to burn the whole arse place down, which was as much as it deserved. 

Sirius's door was open, and he was nowhere to be found inside. Harry had mentioned that Sirius spent most of his time with Buckbeak, so James went to the hippogriff's room next. Sure enough, Sirius was there, stroking his feathers. James wasn't great with hippogriffs, so he kept his gaze averted and stayed in the doorway. "Hey. Can I talk to you for a minute?" 

"Sure." Sirius gave Buckbeak a pat on the back then left, closing the door behind him. "What's up?" 

"Erm, in private? I don't want anyone walking up." 

Sirius shrugged, like he really couldn't care. 

James reminded himself that Sirius had defenses, and he couldn't expect to get past them just because he felt like he should be allowed through. James and Remus were sharing a room, and it was closer than the one Sirius was staying in, so James led him there. He cast a silencing spell but didn't bother to lock it since being interrupted wasn't the biggest issue, it was them being overheard. James wasn't about to pour his heart out where one of the kids could eavesdrop. "If I ask you one question, will you answer completely honestly?" 

Sirius looked at him for a long moment. It used to be that Sirius would say 'yes of course' as soon as James finished asking. "One," he agreed. 

James swallowed down the hurt that came from the carefully guarded answer. "How do you feel about me?" 

Sirius's eyes sharpened. "I can't believe you even have to ask." 

"I can't believe it either, but you don't want to live with me and Harry. You know him better than me, I could use some back up. Besides, I'm- what, five years older than him right now? Six? I'm more like an older brother than a father. And you- okay, I don't know the hell you've been through. I don't understand it and I know I never will, but I love you and you're acting like you don't care. Are we still married? Do you want to pretend that we never were? And why the fuck are you staying here? Because Dumbledore said so? You don't belong here. We should get everyone out and tear it down brick by brick. There are plenty of other places to have a safehouse, and none of them are buildings that you were abused in. When I got you out the first time, I told you that you'd never have to come back, and I meant it." 

"Are you done?" 

"Hardly, but it looks like you have something to say." 

"I love you, but I don't think we fit. That's how I feel about you. I would die for you, but I'm not going to drag you down with me." 

"Drag me down? Is that really what you think you'd be doing? No offense Sirius, but I just came back from the dead and I'm not going to let something like this ruin us. You don't want to be with me? Say so, and I'll leave you alone. But if you think you're sparing me or some shite, I'm going to smother you with love until you remember what it feels like." 

Sirius sighed. "James, it's not that simple-" he broke off with a surprised squeak as James wrapped him up in a tight hug. "Er, what are you doing?" 

"Smothering you with love, step one," James grit out. "Good luck getting rid of me now, you tosser." 

*

After that, James stuck to Sirius's side like glue. Half the time he let him have his own space, but the other half of the time, he was aggressively cuddling him. 

"Sirius, I've heard you're thinking about moving," Dumbledore said, and James snorted. 'Thinking about moving' his arse, they were literally in the middle of packing up things from Sirius's old bedroom. "I know you are displeased with your isolation, but the protections here-" 

"Are absolute shite compared to the ones where we're going. You don't have to have Sirius watching the Order's headquarters, and he's not going to get caught staying anywhere else. So long as he's not walking down the street as is, he'll be fine." 

"I know that the two of you must have missed each other terribly-" 

"Let me stop you right there. I appreciate everything you've done in the fight against Voldemort, and I do value the help you've given everyone in the past. But things are different now." They weren't a whole bunch of clueless kids trying desperately to keep their freedom. James wasn't much smarter now, if he was honest, but Sirius needed for him to take a firmer stand. "I'm not going to change my mind on this, and all you're going to accomplish if you keep pushing it, is making me mad. We'll stay in touch, okay?" It was obvious that James couldn't care less what Dumbledore's response to that was going to be, James was going to do what he wanted no matter what the old man said. 

*

James and Sirius were sharing a bed. In theory. James woke up early the first morning to find that Sirius had already gone downstairs. That happened for the next couple of days. Sirius was gone, James went to find him, and Sirius was in the kitchen frying up some eggs while reading a book. He wasn't sure if Sirius was actually reading the book or if he wanted an excuse not to talk. 

James woke up in the middle of the night-- one a.m. according to the clock-- to an empty bed. He sighed, throwing off the blankets. He'd thought this entire time that Sirius was just waking early, but maybe it's that he wasn't staying there at all, instead waiting until James fell asleep to go somewhere else. He started shuffling towards the door, rubbing at his eyes when he tripped over something. A very large, human shaped something. "Sirius?" 

He'd woken up when James ran into him. "Yeah," he rasped. 

James sat down on the floor next to him. It was too bloody early to be awake, let alone having a conversation. "What're you doing?" 

"I was sleeping." 

"On the ground?" 

Sirius didn't answer. 

James leaned forward and rested his forehead on Sirius's shoulder. "Will you please just come to bed?" 

Sirius sighed, and the motion moved James's head along with him. 

"Please?" 

"Fine." It was a far cry from the enthusiasm James wanted, but they were working with baby steps. Sirius achingly pushed himself up, rolled over to the bed, crawled up, then said, "Happy?" 

James got back in, snuggling against him. "Getting there. Is the bed uncomfortable? We can get a new one." 

He said nothing, and James took that to mean this was another one of those ways that Sirius was punishing himself. Their bed was pretty firm as it was, so he doubted they'd have to actually get a new one. 

*

James stood his ground, unflinching in the face of ten aurors on his doorstep. "Can I see the warrant?" he asked, holding out a hand expectantly. They wouldn't be able to get past unless he let them, and they wouldn't get permission until he saw the warrant was in order. Harry was squirming nervously behind him, probably wondering if he should give Sirius a heads-up so he could get out. Fortunately, it wasn't going to come to that. James took one glance at it, handed it back, and said, "Nope." 

"No?" 

"It's a search warrant for Sirius Black, and there isn't one of those living." 

The auror in charge of the group gave an aggravated sigh. "Mister Potter, do you understand that denying us entrance after a properly served warrant is-" 

"Is a whole bunch of nothing because your warrant doesn't apply. Who else are you going to try to find? Orion Black? Gideon Prewett? Merlin himself?" 

The auror got a very confused look and said, "Sir?" 

"Sirius Black stopped existing on the twenty-eighth of March in nineteen-seventy-seven; you can take it up with your boss," James said, then shut the door. 

Harry frowned up at him when he turned around. "Really?" 

"Yes?" 

"I'm confused. Why isn't he Sirius Black?" 

"Oh, well me and Sirius got married the day after my seventeenth birthday, and he changed his last name to Potter." James ruffled Harry's hair as he passed. 

"...oh. I knew you were together," although that had been a pretty startlingly realisation when he found out a couple months ago, "I just didn't know you were married together."

"Yep." 

"What are we going to do when they come back with a warrant with the right name?" 

"Well this is where it gets risky. Hopefully they'll realise that they need to reevaluate the case, and from there they'll either realise that he never had a trial or that he was framed. Either way will work just fine for me, but the risk is in if they actually bother to look. But I wouldn't worry about it, we should hear before one of them happens and be able to plan for it." 

"Not complaining, but I think you're setting a bad example," Harry said, amused. 

"What? How am I setting a bad example? I'm teaching you how to follow the letter of the law and to take care of the ones you love." 

"Mostly you're teaching me how to break the law." 

James gaped at him. "I most certainly am not! Sirius," he said when he came into the room, "I'm not setting a bad example, am I?" 

Sirius looked at James, then Harry, then back. "Er, no?" 

"You're a filthy traitor," James accused with fake severity, walking over to give him a hug. 

"He's teaching me how to break the law," Harry informed Sirius, jumping into the hug happily. 

"Oh James, how could you. Woe is me. A criminal son following in his criminal father's footsteps. I will never survive from this shock to my composure." In a more serious voice, he said, "Haz, why don't you go finish writing that letter to Ron?" 

"Alright," he said, holding on for another few seconds. 

In a quiet tone, just to make sure that Harry didn't overhear, Sirius said, "You shouldn't lie to him." 

"It was just some teasing." 

"Not that. The part where you keep convincing him that I'm going to get my name cleared." 

"You are." 

"Great, you're delusional," Sirius muttered. 

James hugged him again, tighter this time. 

"What are you doing?" 

"You're making me sad, so you're getting a hug until I feel better. Normally I would do it until you feel better, but you're awfully resilient to being happy." 

"I'm not resilient to being happy," Sirius mumbled. 

"The fact that you honestly think that makes it so much worse." James tilted his head to the side and kissed Sirius's cheek. Sirius was good with the occasional, quick kiss and hugs now. He had stopped trying to run out of bed before James woke up, so that was an improvement. Everything else physical was still miles away, but James didn't mind. Mostly what he minded was that Sirius wasn't happy. He'd been like this after a summer with his family, and each time he came back for a new year at Hogwarts was like working from scratch. This was the same as that, only times one hundred since Sirius hadn't had any breaks in between and he'd been in Azkaban. "I love you." 

Sirius swallowed thickly, enough that James could heart it happen. "I erm. I do too. For you. Y'know?" 

"Yeah sweetheart, I know." James kissed his cheek again, then let go, beaming at him with a brightness he didn't necessarily feel. "Let's try making cookies again, I think we almost got it last time." 

*

Sirius grinned at James, scooping him up in a hug that made James's feet lift off the floor. James laughed and held on, knowing from experience that if he didn't, he'd get flung around. "Is it just me, or does the air smell sweeter now that I am officially, completely free?" 

"Hmm." James sniffed at the air. "I think the air's sweeter." 

Sirius kissed him, set him on the ground gently, then kissed him again. "Thanks for sticking with me." 

"Any time," James said, completely meaning it. 

"And thanks for forcing me to have some human contact so I'd feel better." 

James's smile widened. "Any time." 

"I can't believe you never gave up on me," Sirius muttered, resting their foreheads together. 

"I can't believe you thought I ever could." 

"You literally came back from the dead to take care of me. You have to admit, that's a whole new level of protective." 

"You're worth it." 

[tenok]

20 questions

1. What do you prefer to be called namewise? most people call me Ten (not like number, in russian it doesen't mean anything) or Теныч (more agressive form of Ten lol). People from offline know me as Violet, and I grew fond of it being chopped as Vio.

2. When is your birthday? 4th July YES I KNOW

3. Where do you live? Russia, St Peresburg!

4. Three things you are doing right now? I'm writing for my job, writing for my RP and writing this lol. Also there's music playing.

5. Four fandoms that have peaked your interest? I'll always be a trekkie! Also I'm always down to discuss Dragon age. Supernatural is probably close to the top, and honorable mention goes to Major Grom as a current obsession.

6. How has the pandemic been treating you? I didn't have problems with pandemic per se, but I lost my ex-ex job right before it started and my ex job in the middle of it, so things are a little shake.

7. A song you can’t stop listening to right now? DEAD BLONDE — Бесприданница. I HAVE NOTHING BUT MY BOOTS MY COAT AND DADDYS GUN I'LL MADE MY MAKE UP WITH NEW EYELINER AND WILL BE THE PRETTIEST ONE ON THE GUNFIGHT I DON'T GO FOR THE WALK WITHOUT MY FAVORITE KNIFE DO YOU THINK YOU CAN INTIMIDATE ME?

8. Recommend a movie. Watch a Major Grom: Plague doctor, I'm begging you all.

9. How old are you? 27 and waiting to turn 30 and finally feel grown up lol

10. School, university, occupation, other? work *sigh*

11. Do you prefer heat or cold? heat is awful but I remember how -30 made me literally cry (and after that ice grew on my cheeks) on the way to school so heat it is.

12. Name one fact others may not know about you. I have four cats, their names are Abin, Shusha, Little Fucker and Itty-bitty.

13. Are you shy? not so shy, mostly anxious.

14. Preferred pronouns? he/his, but I don't mind occasional she and all gender neutral options in Russian suck (no shade to those who use them of couse)

15. Biggest pet peeves? I have a lot lol, right now I'm feeling petty about all monoamourus people who drags their mononormativity in fandom. Yesterday I saw great headcanon with my ot3 and read through it all only to understand that it was not actually ot3 it was sad and broken pining from the distance and I was like NOT ON MY WATCH. I mean yeah you ship as you want and I'll be there with by poly dinamics UWU

16. What is your favourite “dere” type? I was forced to use google for this and honestly I don't know, probably that one that cold only because they don't know how to act around people.

17. Rate your life from 1-10. ehh 6? could become 7-8 any moment if I find good enough job and stop worring about money

18. What’s your main blog? this is my only blog lol. I started use tumblr long ago and this was just the place to collect all shiny things I like. So there's no sistem no tags and at this point it's too late to change it

19. List your sideblogs and what they’re used for. May I ineterst you in my twitter instead? It's russian of cource, I post there about my offline stuff and all fandoms I'm obsessed at the moment. I also have a blog on dybr (which is diary 2.0, which was a russian lj), where I post rarely and mostly about things too complicated for twitter.

20. Is there something people need to know about you before becoming friends? I tend to drop all connections for weeks or months at the time, we can't be friends if you couldn't wait sorry

I was tagged by @untoldblisses, big thanks, it's nice to feel seen lol! I'm too lazy to tag someone right now tho but if we talked at least once know that I want you to do this and to tag me so I can read your answers, I'm nosy like this.

[derireo]

Wilting Lotus / CH. 5.1

The Two Fools

Omi and Izumi explore her abandoned apartment.

He decides to destroy a couple of things during the visit. Just for kicks.

「 Read on AO3 here 」 「 4.0k words 」

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

"So they decided to shut it down because..?"

Izumi was staring up at the place that she used to call her apartment, but it was obvious that no one lived here anymore. The front lawn where a large sign used to sit was now overrun with weeds while the walls of the building looked like they were being swallowed up by invasive creeper plants. Omi's arm was still comfortably wrapped around her shoulders as they stayed put on the sidewalk, her head resting against his shoulder as she analysed the graffiti that ran along the walls.

The sound of Omi's tongue clicking was the only response Izumi was going to get given how silent the man was the rest of their way here. The lack of cooperation made her sigh in resignation and she decided not to ask anymore questions unless they were actually important. For the time being at least.

She just had to guess that Sakyo and Itaru didn't want this building anymore because she didn't live there anymore. Her conjecture probably wasn't that far off anyways.

Flinging Omi's arm from her shoulders, Izumi readjusted her outfit as she made her way inside the abandoned building, the toes of her boots kicking away the stray pebbles that rest on the ground.

The man who accompanied her pursed his lips at the sudden loss of warmth, but silently crinkled his nose as he reminded himself that she had just very rudely pushed him away. Slinging her bag over his shoulder, Omi's tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he followed right behind the wandering woman, his temper still pleasantly mellow.

"Ugh, stairs." Izumi moaned sadly when pressing the button to the elevator didn't work, hitting her head against the metal doors.

It wasn't too far, but she lived on the third floor.

Omi, irked by how fast she had given up already, offered his services.

"I can give you a ride," he started, "but it's gonna cost ya."

And as much as the offer was tempting, Izumi grimaced at the word 'cost' and shook her head with a barely friendly chuckle, her eyes totally not glaring up at Omi as they smiled at him. His own gaze was indifferent at the expression on her face, but the corner of his mouth curved upwards when he saw how annoyed she seemed to be.

"No thanks, Sweetheart. I"ll manage." Mocking him with the nickname Sakyo usually called her, Izumi briefly poked her tongue out at Omi. Her little feet immediately carried her in the direction of the stairs before the tall man could react and grab her or something, and she tried to keep her giggles quiet when the sound of his footsteps followed after her own.

Their shadows danced along the length of the walls as the old wood beneath their feet creaked under the weight of their bodies. The sound of wandering mice and other critters tapping along the floors and ceiling covered up the tired breaths of Izumi as Omi casually trailed behind her, eyes fixated on the strain of her calves.

But as strong as she was, her endurance fucking sucked.

"I'll carry you. Free o' charge."

"Oh thank fuck." Izumi sobbed at the new offer, her body twisting around once they finished the first flight of stairs. At this point, her knees felt weak and she was about to die from exhaustion so Omi saying he'd carry her was like a dream come true; she honestly didn't think her short legs were gonna make it.

With arms held wide open, Izumi waited to be lifted onto his shoulder again, only to be startled by the feeling of already familiar hands gripping onto her waist and hoisting her up into the air.

Her reflexes were barely fast enough when latching onto the man, her legs tightly curled around his waist while her arms looped around his neck as Omi made no other effort to hold onto her himself, his hands reaching out to grab the handrails so that they wouldn't fall down the stairs.

"I can definitely tell that you wouldn't care if I died." Izumi sighed, wistful almost. As much as she found herself physically attracted to this man she was touching, his personality was nearing the line of a total deal breaker.

Omi found it easy to agree with her statement as he focused on getting the both of them to the floor that Izumi used to live on, the pace of his breathing barely changing.

The silence he left Izumi in annoyed her to no end; having been so used to Itaru's ramblings and Sakyo's never ending sighing or growling. She also didn't want to admit that she enjoyed being spoiled with attention, but with Omi's indifference, and maybe even dislike, towards her, she was definitely weighing the pros and cons on throwing a little tantrum.

But no. She shook her head, much to Omi's agitation. She had to keep her cool. Losing her temper with Omi like this was obviously going to put her in a tight situation, and she wasn't willing to die by this fucker's hands.

"Frowning isn't a cute look on you." She said offhandedly, already getting bored having to stay quiet with her emotions while her chin hooked over his shoulder, the side of her head leaning against his just to make him a little more annoyed.

At this point, Omi wasn't planning on opening his mouth to shoot her with a retort. Izumi would probably hit him back with something even meaner to say, and then they would have to do a back and forth to see whose feelings would get hurt first.

And nobody really had time for that; plus, Omi just wanted this girl off.

"Here. Get down." The man heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the large number '3' on the wall at the top of the stairs and went to pry off the clingy monster from his body.

Izumi tutted when her feet met the floor, but didn't say anything else to Omi who was trying to brush off any dust or dirt she brought upon him (rude!) and opened the broken fire exit door that would lead them to the hallway where her home was. The circuit breaker was undoubtedly shut off from all those years ago so the only source of light was the sun rays coming in from the end of the hallway.

The silence that resided in the place that Izumi once called her home made it slightly eerie, but she willed herself not to be perturbed and started to venture down to find the door to her apartment room.

"Ugh.. It's so cold. I kinda wish they left the electricity on." Rubbing her hands against her arms, Izumi stopped in front of a door that had one of the numbers hanging off. Her lips pouted when she saw the broken door frame and the cracked door itself; probably in this condition due to her never giving Sakyo and Itaru the key before she left.

She nudged the door open with her foot and held onto her arms as she walked in to the near empty home, just a few things like her ratty old couch and a few wooden chairs left askew in the living room. And she didn't notice then, but it seemed like the table in Itaru's 'office' was actually her coffee table.

Reduce, reuse, recycle, huh?

"Should blame yourself for wearin' that outfit you got goin' on." Omi said as he ventured to her kitchen where a leaky faucet remained along with a few broken dishes left abandoned in the sink. If anything, Omi would have offered his jacket to her if she asked, but she didn't. So. That's kind of on her.

"I'll kill you." Her voice travelled from an area of the place that was probably her bedroom, and the empty threat left Omi chuckling to himself as he brushed his hand along a cracked cupboard, fingers catching onto the handle that would let him open the tiny cabinet. The man grimaced when the collected dust flew in front of his face and he waved it away with his free hand as he examined whatever was inside.

The cupboard mostly housed a unique array of shot glasses, showing how much of an alcoholic the girl was in the past, along with a small arrangement of porcelain plates and one single kiddie bowl.

A small wave of repulsion went through Omi when he took a closer look at a mug that caught his attention though, a curious hand reaching out to properly examine what was on the ceramic.

It was a personalised mug that seemed to have a not so hot picture of Izumi with her former boyfriend on it, their arms wrapped around each other.

With one of the worst choices of font, Papyrus, was a sentence that ran around the image.

I hope only love and happiness meet us hand-in-hand in the future.. Guo Dian.

Happy Graduation, Izumi.

This? In Papyrus? Out of all fonts? Omi didn't major in anything let alone graphic design, but just looking at this abomination told him that this bullshit was hideous as fuck. He was going to have to do something about this.

"Yo, Izumi-san." He called out.

"En..?" Poking her head from a doorway, the girl's eyes squinted at Omi who had the mug casually hanging from a long finger, eyebrows scrunched him as she tried to see what it was he was trying to tell her through his vague gestures. She only realised what he was holding in his hand when she remembered that there was only one or two mugs she owned as a new adult, and the only one that had a picture on it was the present that Guo Dian gave her on her convocation day.

"You ever tell 'im this the ugliest shit ya ever seen?"

"Uh.. I thought it was kinda cute at the time.." She trailed off, slightly embarrassed. Sure, it wasn't the prettiest thing to look at, but it's the thought that counts, right? Izumi treasured it for many years after receiving it, but she totally forgot about it once she left to go overseas. She didn't use it much anyways, considering how worn down and scratched all of her shot glasses were while the mug looked like it had been barely touched.

"Right, well," with an easy but powerful flick of his wrist, Omi lobbed the ceramic mug across the short length of the living room, leaving it to fly far enough to hit and smash the rest of an already broken window that lead to the outside of the building, "you thought wrong."

Wincing at the sound of the crash of the window and then the smash of the mug landing on concrete, Izumi quickly frowned at Omi before disappearing to her bedroom again to go back to doing what she was doing before he interrupted her. Whatever. She didn't like that mug anyways.

The lack of reaction was kind of disappointing to Omi, but he decided not to push her any further just in case the kitty actually had claws, using the leaking faucet to wash away any of the dust that managed to stick to his fingers as his nose wrinkled at the memory of initially witnessing the tragedy that was Izumi's only graduation present.

If it were him, he would have dumped his partner right then and there.

"Ugh.. Omi-san?" It was Izumi's turn to call out for him, not that it mattered to the man but he perked up at the helpless tone in her voice, already making the short trek to her bedroom before she could tell him what she needed help with.

She was surprised to see Omi standing in the doorway when she was going to walk out and drag him from the kitchen, but smiled gratefully when he was in her sights, hands shoved into his pockets.

"You good?" Eyeing the piece of plywood that Izumi was holding onto, Omi pursed his lips and took a single step forward to see how she was managing. The plywood looked a bit new, and considering that Sakyo and Itaru had been here once before told him that they were the ones who installed it.

They said they were having trouble opening something a while back, so it must have been something valuable hence the plywood screwed shut over the huge ass hole they made in the wall.

"Obviously not." Izumi grunted, fingers sore from pulling at the barrier for so long. "There was literally no reason for this."

Awkwardly bouncing on the balls of his feet, Omi continued to watch the girl struggle. Was she going to ask him to lend a hand or..?

"Please help me." She whined, removing her hands from the small crevice that helped her pull at the industrial wood. She brought her fingers up to her mouth and cutely placed soothing kisses to the parts that would undoubtedly bruise later, causing Omi's mouth to twist in disgust at the adorable display.

"Hm. Thought you were never gonna ask, Sweetheart." He smiled sarcastically to which Izumi reacted the same, both of them glaring at each other as Omi shrugged off his black denim jacket and tossed it to Izumi who hardly reacted fast enough to catch it. No one else would have put it past Omi to ignore the girl until she asked for assistance since he liked watching others struggle, but there was something about Izumi that made it all the more fun.

He had just met her today, and not that he'd admit it, but he was kind of enjoying himself right now.

"Hold it or wear it, don't care. An' quit lookin' at me like that." Omi sighed as Izumi crinkled her nose, the weight of his jacket making it difficult for her to hold in both hands. A slight grumble came from the girl once the man had turned away from her to pull a tactical switchblade from his back pocket, the matte carbon fibre attracting her attention.

Her eyebrows lifted, impressed by the slick blade, and took a step back to let Omi do whatever he was planning to do, arms casually slipping through the sleeves of his large jacket to keep herself warm. "You gonna somehow cut through the plywood with that?" She inquired while sitting down on her old bed, the sound of the creaking springs causing her to grimace and readjust her position on the hard mattress.

The half-hearted joke made Omi want to hit his head against the wall, but he didn't, instead bending to his knees to get a better look at the screws that were still managing to hold on. "I ain't that strong." He rolled his eyes to himself, hooking the blade into the divot of the first screw to get it loose and then worked on the next one in the other corner to get the top half disconnected from the wall. He worked quickly so that he wouldn't waste any more of their time, and without touching the other screws at the bottom dug his hand between the plywood and the wall to manually force it off.

The sound of wood splitting caused Izumi to stop zoning out, her body jolting at the sudden break.

"Yeah.." She grimaced again, seeing how the poor wood lay at his feet. "Not that strong.. I agree.."

Izumi sighed once she saw the huge hole that hid away the safe she only opened once, the dents in the metal clear as day to both her and Omi. Sakyo and Itaru could have done a better job at trying to open the safe, right? It was just a simple 4-digit code, but it looked like they couldn't even figure it out. There were a few scratches on some of the numbers that told Izumi that they focused on those, but they missed the mark.

They didn't get a single number right.

"The code was 3825.." Izumi mourned as she quickly went to kneel in front of the safe to drag her fingers along the dimples in the metal, not yet touching the keypad. Omi's eyebrows creased as he watched how her small hands poked out from the long sleeves of his jacket and crossed his arms over his chest, not really knowing why she would assume anyone would figure that out by themselves with no sort of clue from the owner.

"3825 for 'fuck' when you look at the letters.."  She explained not a second later, and it was at this point that Omi would have honestly preferred if she didn't say anything at all.

The urge to rip his jacket off her body out of anger was strong, but she unlocked the safe before he could make a move. Omi was left having to pretend he was only outstretching his hand to anxiously bite at his nails while Izumi gathered whatever was in the safe, the sigh that left her connecting to how Omi was feeling at this very moment.

"Didn't like 7448?" He muttered to himself when Izumi shuffled away from the safe to close it, the woman standing to her proper height as she turned her head to look at him with an innocent expression, eyes oddly sad for some reason.

"'Shit' wasn't as funny as 'fuck' at the time." She murmured gloomily, thumb brushing over the items that lay in her hand while Omi took a step to take a better look. His face contorted once more into an expression of disgust when he saw another photo of Izumi and Guo Dian together, along with a pair of amber kanzashi hair combs and a simple, black titanium ring.

"Top tier humour." He said, snatching away the photo that rest in her palm. The protest against him went ignored as Omi rummaged around in his pocket for something, his tongue poking out just the slightest bit as he dug deep to conjure a single match kept safe in a small plastic baggie from his trousers. "We're burnin' this shit."

"No! I look cute in that photo!" Izumi shot a hand out to try and reach for the picture that Omi took from her, but the man only held it above his head with a petulant frown, nose scrunched that she would even bother to try and save this forsaken piece of chemically sensitised paper.

The agitation was clear on Omi's face when Izumi's hand made contact with his chest as she tried to get closer to the photo, straining herself on her toes to at least brush her fingers along the edge of the item while her body leaned into him. Her struggle was genuine as she wheezed out a childish whine, but was quickly silenced when Omi's hand came down to roughly pat her cheek, an arm tucking around her waist to bring her back to the flat of her feet.

"I'll cut his half off then we burn it." He offered then pushed away the girl from him to keep their distance, brushing off the imaginary dust that she brought upon him. "Want you to explain why those are important though." He pointed at the traditional hair ornament and the ring being held tight in Izumi's hand. The amber resin glowed bright despite the dim lighting in the bedroom, and the ring glimmered just the slightest when the light from the window hit it as Izumi examined the accessories herself, lips pouted.

"I just told Itaru and Sakyo that these meant a lot to me," she sighed, not noticing Omi brandishing his switchblade again, "they're making it seem like they hold a different meaning though. I don't quite get it."

The smooth sound of his blade slicing through the photo made Izumi fall back into reality and she pressed her lips in a thin line when she noticed how he narrowly missed cutting her whole arm from the rest of the picture. She didn't say anything, but Omi knew how unimpressed she was with him when she put her hands on her hips; looking awfully cute (not his words) with how his denim jacket dwarfed her.

"Any special markings on 'em?" He murmured as he plucked the match he had from its baggie, taking a single step closer to the girl to reach out with the tiny thing. Before Izumi could react, Omi's wrist flicked in her direction to strike the match against his jacket that she still wore, a brief spark flying before the head lit up into a flame.

The action made her flinch in surprise, momentarily forgetting what his question was as her eyes darted back and forth between her sleeve and the match with widened eyes.

"H-How.."

"Cap gun powder, water, nail varnish." He didn't let her finish as he brought the match to Guo Dian's half of the photo, casually letting it burn in one hand as he motioned for Izumi with the other, telling her to hurry up and answer his question. The old scars on her body ached when her gaze didn't move from the flickering match and the melting picture, but willed herself to break away from the bright flame to avert her attention to the simple ring that Guo Dian had given to her as another present.

"Er.. Ah! There's a lotus emblem inside the ring.." She gasped in surprise, noticing the thin engraving that was touched up with gold. She then flipped the kanzashi combs in hands to see another set of lotus emblems in the top left corners, the black paint protected by a smooth coating of some type of varnish.

A deep intake of breath was heard coming from Omi as he finally dropped the ruined photo of Guo Dian along with the match, casually stepping on the flame with his white shoe to extinguish it before it could catch fire onto any of the rubble that was around. Stepping away, his foot revealed the burnt to a crisp sensitised paper and the dead match in the spot where the ex boyfriend's head used to be.

"'Kay. Good to know. We're done 'ere." The man mumbled as he tucked Izumi's half of the photo in his jacket pocket for the girl to hold onto, wrapping his large hand around the crook of Izumi's elbow to begin pulling her out the bedroom without giving her any time to look at anything else. "Let's go."

"Hey!" Izumi complained, unable to use any strength against Omi to make release her. She tried digging her heels into the floor to make the man let up, but Omi wasn't having it and pulled on her arm to make her stumble forward until she crashed into his side. Izumi groaned in agitation as her nose dug itself into his rib cage, but Omi was left unaffected, his arm moving to go back around her shoulders to escort her out of the abandoned apartment room.

"Can we at least go eat some food before we go back?" She put away the kanzashi in the same pocket Omi put her photo in and wore the black ring on her middle finger, squinting up at the man who was leading her down the hallway and towards the stairwell. "I didn't get to before I visited the office."

He shot a quick glance her way only for him to revert his gaze to the flight of stairs they were going to have to go back down, and made a move to grab Izumi firmly by the waist, hoisting her up into the air for a bridal carry, only to hear her complain again.

He was not going to let her slow them down by going into a corner to heave and catch her breath again. She went limp in Omi's arms just to spite him and make things harder, but his simple answer of 'no' made her shoot up to punch him in the shoulder.

"You're the worst."

[samstrugglingwithlife]

Hi may i request a matchup for a haikyuu guy? I'm female, 5'0, cancer, brown long hair and brown eyes, curvy and I'm working as a newspaper journalst. I'm a sub lol, I'm rather shy around people, I love sunflowers and peaches, reading and writing stories. my fave animals are dogs and I spent most of my time in my garden watering my plants lol. I hope this is enough <3

Hello! First of all lemme just say that you sound like an absolute sweetheart and I want to protect you from the whole world so I thought about this for a good one day. Also I am assuming you are not a minor. I hope you like this, let me know if you wanted a different character. Sorry to have kept you waiting.

KAI NOBUYUKI

First of all this is one sexy motherfucker. And I will accept no man but him for you because he will treat you so good. This fucker is an arborist... honestly, how fucking sexy is that?

How You Two Met

You guys met at the grocery store, not once, not twice, but three times. The first time you guys met, you bumped into him and he saved you from falling on your ass. The second time you guys met was in the hardware aisle, you were looking for a trowel. That's when you learned that Kai was a landscape Gardener and an arborist. You left with so many tips and tricks about maintaining your garden. The third time you met was when your carts collided and he grabbed you yet again from falling on your ass. This time, you guys exchanged numbers. You would often exchange texts back and forth, you told him all the interesting stories you had to write for work and he would talk about his new gardening job and some stories about his clients' crazy demands were absolutely hilarious!

When He Asked You Out And Your First Date

You called him over to your house because one of your plants was dying. He came over with a simple guide book on how to treat house plants and a cute watering can as a gift. As he was about to leave he shyly asked you out on a date. Of course, you agreed. The two of you went to a flower exhibition where he learnt that you like sunflowers and he bought you one in a cute little pot and promised to plant it in your garden. You guys walked around hand in hand looking at all the pretty flowers (mayhaps I busted a fat fucking uwu). Your date ended with a nice dinner at an outdoor restaurant and he walked you home, draping his jacket over your shoulders. HE KISSED YOUR HAND BEFORE HE LEFT AND I AM FEELING SO EMOTIONAL RIGHT NOW.

Whats Your Relationship Like

He always brings home flowers whenever he comes back from work. When you're too busy with work, he'll bring you snacks and tea and rub your shoulders. You two look after the garden together, and sometime later you guys adopt a little puppy. You're both always taking him on walks and trying to teach new tricks. If you're willing, he'd love to read your writing or just lay you on top of his chest and hear you read it out to him. When you two cuddle, he holds you close and securely in his arms and you two talk about your day and your lill' pup sleeps by your feet. He never fails to kiss you good morning and before either of you leave for work. If you're too shy to talk to people he will generally try to divert most questions towards himself until you feel comfortable enough to speak. You guys have the most serene but fun dates. You would go to book stores and go pet stuff shopping. You guys have fun grocery shopping dates. Dinner dates at various restaurants every other weekend. You guys HAVE to go when there is a flower show or an exhibition in your town, and he will always buy you a new plant or a flower to add to your garden. I have a feeling that in the future when you two have a home together, the garden would be the prettiest place in your entire home. It would be filled with all the plants and flowers that remind him of you and your memories together, there would be a gazebo in the centre of the garden from where you can see everything and it is the most beautiful view. He's the gentlest gentleman and he's so kind and loving and mature and your peaceful personalities go so well together. I feel like he's a good match for you because he is hella reliable and loves to take care of you and genuinely takes interest in you and your work.

[vaguely-concerned]

IN ANTICIPATION OF BIOWARE POTENTIALLY GIVING US A ROMANCE UPDATE IN THE FUTURE: MY PERSONAL ANTHEM ‘SHOULD YOU FUCK’s AS OF RIGHT NOW, ENORMOUS SPOILERS OBVIOUSLY

No really spoilers for Anthem you have been warned

Tassyn: I mean she reads a lot more mom to me, but I’ve seen people be into her so y’know if that floats your boat go ahead. Probably will regretfully yet efficiently murder you if necessary but hey some people are into that I’m not judging. 

Rythe: FUCK YEAH YOU SHOULD FUCK RYTHE! SEXY BAD CHOICES ALL AROUND!!!! *fingerguns*

Owen: Well I love him & would die for him even after the total bullshit he pulls, but to me he feels more like a fuckup little brother, in the grand tradition of Carver and Jowan. So for me personally that’s probably a no, but I can totally see why you would and I respect it. They played their hand too early with him b/c the pacing of the main story is completely off the rails, so I’d love to get more content for him anyway. He’s undeniably hilarious and desperate for affection and can be sweet but he’s also a walking over-caffeinated mess of abandonment issues, deflecting humour and spectacularly bad decisions; will absolutely stab you in the back but tbf you kind of treated him horribly. Even I have to admit that that slouch and slow grin when he sees you in the bar sure was Something, though I’m not entirely sure what. If you were one of those people who inexplicably wanted to kiss Wheatley, lo and behold your time has come.

I would say that if you haven’t previously engaged in the even grander Bioware tradition of getting screwed over in the non-sexy way by your love interest, ala Anders and Solas... step with caution, okay? (If you’ve been here before, seen this room and walked this floor -- you know what you’re doing, I’m not here to insult you by giving you advice like you’re not marching unflinchingly into hell with open eyes yet again, best of luck out there in the trenches comrade)

Dax: Oh hell yeah you should fuck Dax. Strong, beautiful, funny, driven, technically a princess and heir to the throne but so far along in the line of succession now that neither of you have to worry about getting assassinated, probably, will make you excellent and detailed maps one day. Good stuff.

Haluk: No he is my honorary uncle and mentor it would be super weird. He has beautiful eyes tho A fucking plus to Bioware’s art/animation team there

Faye: Also feels like family, like my sister or something, so no. She’s objectively the prettiest girl in the entire game, however, and super smart and kinder than her dumbass friends have any right to expect of her, so if I played a different character: totally.

Brin: ...idk I just sort of get the feeling she’s got other shit to do and wouldn’t welcome it? I’d be her fanfic beta reader tho, which is arguably a greater degree of intimacy anyway ETA: Apparently she’s ace, so definitely doubling down on betaing fic instead!

The Matthiases: Short answer: Probably yeah, if you feel so inclined, it’ll be fun if a bit of a mindfuck. Long answer: GOD PLEASE FUCK THE MATTHIASES, this is literally the reason I made this post, the mechanics of it alone! The Possibilities! Like how would it work? For Science if nothing else, people!

(I know the point of their arcs is kind of that they’re separate people now and romancing all three of them at once is probably not how that would work but honestly when has that ever stopped the smut brain? Never, of course, let’s go)

Do we check our calendars for when we can all manage to get together every time? Do we add the arcanist lady who Sumner could end up dating (of course we do the more the merrier when we’ve let it get to this point)? Do you pick one to fit your mood that day -- Matti for days when you need someone who sounds a little stoned to tenderly look you in the eyes and earnestly tell you you’re a wonderful person, Sumner for rough satisfying stuff but also he can be kind of adorbs?, Erryl for when you want to try some technically challenging kama sutra shit but don’t feel like chatting about feelings? (you know there are books about it in the Anthem universe too and you know he’s always up for an experiment) Would you just pick and mix and would they be chill with that?

Have the three of them together ever, you know. I mean, they live together. They conceivably share a bedroom. They must have -- surely, they’ve at least tried... right? At least once.There’s no way they haven’t. Right? To satisfy Erryl’s intellectual curiosity, if nothing else? Well, it’s something to consider. Fuck them, is what I’m saying, it’ll be an adventure and between the three of them they can give you the time and attention the original Matthias couldn’t b/c he was all arcanisty and self absorbed.  

The Monitor: You Monitor fuckers already know who you are and I’m perfectly aware that neither I nor the hand of god himself could stop you if we wanted to, godspeed you weirdos

Princess Zhim: She’s so beautiful I’m a bit weak in the knees but she made you eat a pheromone sack with disgusting sound effects the first time you met. I mean. If that’s your thing you’re welcome to but that’s a no thanks from me. 

Amal: Nah. He’s such a disastrous ditz he might like frame you for murder one day without even meaning to or realizing. Also the worst kind of actor -- working as a waiter for now until he gets his big break but just you wait one day he’ll be a star and uuuuuugh... listen if you can block out the inane prattle for long enough to enjoy his pretty face all the more power to you, but I don’t have that kind of strength of character

Lucky Jak: Sure, have fun! Boy looks good in a tight sweater and seems nice. ETA: Also actually now that I think about it he could & would totally do all your paperwork for you, literally the dream man, go forth and smooch at will

Kassian: Yes, for no other reason than that I literally thought ‘yeah I’d bang him’ the first time I saw him even though he’s wearing whatever the hell it is he’s wearing on his head, so that’s some serious magnetism he’s got going on there. A little bit of an ‘a freelancer can love a caravan sailor merchant person but where would they live’ situation if you go for a long term thing, but I’m sure you could work something out. “I’d like to kiss you”, “...KS?”, “Nope, that one’s totally true as long as you’d like that too”, honestly the dialogue writes itself

Marl: No. He’s already clearly having some sort of Situation with Gunther and honestly... leave them to it, nothing but madness lies this way

Pirndel: Eh it’ll be deeply unsatisfying, but I bet he practices extremely safe sex. Not the worst choice.

That married couple I can’t remember the names of right now but they’re both spies: They’ve already enough of an unexpected bizarre threesome angle going on and I’m not sure a non-spy is equipped for the mind games enough to not end up dead, let’s not 

Max: Well she also already has a wife, but you never know how they’ve got things arranged. Never hurts to ask.

Commander Vule: Very good voice. Handsome. Stern but fair-ish; you could roleplay by-the-book-cop vs. wild card detective and finally get to yell ‘but I get results, Chief’, maybe hand in your badge and gun while he glowers at you... You know yourself best, my friend, bang or not as you see fit. 

Neeson: No. He will end up wearing your skin as a coat if you let him. Save yourself.