#i know this and still sometimes lose focus of that fact

[andre-and-cal]

waiter give me caldre headcanons

Sigh I read Walter instead of waiter…

But bone apple teeth and eat up pookstah !! I hope that I did okay with these ones ‘cause I’m not trans but wanted these to feel realistic for my trans pookies,, so I did my best :3

I didn’t get to proofread that much so I’m sawry if there r mistakes…. 😿🙏

Caldre Headcanons

SFW

Transmasc Calvin !! Despite Andre’s curiosity toward him, he still accepts him for who he is, no matter his identity. It took Andre a little to get adjusted to referring to Cal as a male, and he did seem a little judgmental at first with the wording of his questions. Sometimes Andre can come off kinda rude when he doesn’t mean to. However, he wasn’t being judgmental, as he was trying to learn more so that Cal felt comfortable with him. And once Andre got the hang of it, he quickly realized that he doesn’t care about who Cal is— to elaborate, he doesn’t care about how Cal identifies, he cares about his presence. Not anyone else’s presence, just the Calvin Gabriel he met and quickly grew close to in middle school. After all, he feels like Cal is all he has left in the world, so the last thing he really cares about is Cal’s gender or orientation. Though, Cal struggles with dysphoria and a bit of discrimination— especially with it being the years 2000-2001. Kids were still a lot meaner and less accepting of queer people, so he faces issues with some bullying. Many of his peers shun him for being transgender, so as a result, Cal’s already quite low self-esteem plummeted. At times, he doesn’t really feel comfortable in his body. He feels like he just wants to crawl his way out of his skin in order to rid himself of the bothersome ruminating thoughts he deals with. But he tries to ignore the negativity and brush it off until it all bottles up— for which he seeks out that reassurance from Andre, wanting to be sure that the feminine features present on his body are okay. Which, they are, of course, and Andre tries to encourage him of this fact, even if briefly. Now, Cal isn’t as open about his dysphoria with Rachel, but he does talk about it with her sometimes.

Andre seems stern and stoic around other people, but he’s a lot different when it comes to Cal. With the promises they’d made to each other in the past, Andre’s constantly surveying Cal, especially when Brad or other dudes at school are being a dick to them both— but Andre often takes little to no notice of himself at times, frequently exhibiting intense defensiveness toward their bullies when they bother them because he just wants to make sure Cal is okay. His demeanor does impact how other people see him, with many of his peers seeing him as “having a short fuse” or “strange”. Andre knows Cal can very well handle himself. He’s not a baby, after all— he’s practically an adult now, and Andre tries to tell himself that, yet he can’t help but worry about him, even when he doesn’t need to worry. There’s just that little voice in the back of his head that prompts him to get a little bossy around Cal sometimes. Brad Huff calls Andre “Cal’s abusive boyfriend” in an insulting manner when Andre sticks up for him, which embarrasses and enrages him. Everybody thinks him and Cal aren’t dating, even though they are. Cal will kinda stay quiet, maybe mutter something sharp-tongued in response, but he doesn’t want to get Andre’s ass beaten. Andre’s own anxiety for Calvin causes Andre to kind of project onto him with irritability and frustration, even though he doesn’t truly mean it— he just wants to know Calvin is safe, that’s all. But he doesn’t know how to express that care healthily at times because he struggles with communicating his feelings.

Cal helps Andre with his homework sometimes, and Andre does the same. Andre tends to get annoyed when Cal doesn’t understand something after he explained it multiple times, or when he gets distracted and loses focus frequently due to his ADHD. Telling him to “get his head out of his ass”. He also organizes his folders and throws out loose papers for him since Cal is definitely an unorganized guy. But Andre doesn’t realize how much help he is for Cal, ‘cause he tends to do well on his quiz, test, or exam within a few weeks, even though Andre has to organize his shit for him once every few weeks. Now, Calvin’s approach when he helps Andre with his homework is a little different, but just as effective. He explains things for a while ‘cause he kind of gets into the whole “teaching” thing, and Andre tends to get bored, but still somehow taking in some of the information. But this is mainly because Cal helps Andre chunk his notes. Cal initially suggested that Andre be a tutor, but Andre brushed off his suggestion, not wanting to have to work with younger kids or potentially his peers at school. But since Andre already has his job at the pizza parlor, Cal decided to become a tutor instead. He makes some good money with it, but gets a little impatient with his tutees, like how he does with Andre.

Andre lightly baby talks Mel. Cal makes fun of him for it, sarcastically saying it’s not very “soldierly” of him to express his fondness toward his cat, as if he doesn’t do the same to Mel. Cal knows he’s a hypocrite but doesn’t dare admit it, he’ll just silently sink down to the floor beside Mel to play with her and give her attention. Andre has no shame in showing Mel love and attention, because he’s seen Cal get all wrapped up in cat heaven when Mel lays on him and makes biscuits on his lap. Even before Cal and Andre started dating, Andre casually referred to Cal as Mel’s “daddy” sometimes, and then himself as “papa”. Andre’s crush was well-hidden, but not covered up completely. He still does this, but now the confirmation that Cal is Mel’s second “father” remains unspoken yet understood by both boys, so Andre constantly calls him and Cal her “dads”.

In their gym class, some boys intentionally target Andre and Cal— especially if they’re playing an outdoor activity. When playing soccer, they’ll kick soccer balls toward the two of them— Cal has good reflexes, so he can usually can dodge the ball when he sees it coming— but Andre will get hit in the face and fall on his ass. He feels embarrassed and enraged when it happens, and one time he even got a bloody nose— so Cal took him to the clinic and cleaned it up for him, though he effectively hid his internal rage toward the boys for doing that. However, Cal usually gets hit in the chest when they’re playing football or basketball, and it knocks the wind out of his lungs. Andre doesn’t really say anything, knowing that doing so will just get him further taunted or pushed around, so he just shuts his mouth and helps Cal up— even though he’s seething inside.

Andre gets cold at night, while Cal gets hot. Andre gets real whiny when he’s half-asleep and when Cal pulls away from him at night, since Cal is kind of like a little heater for him while he sleeps. But Calvin gets sweaty, and pulling the sheets off is uncomfortable for him, so he tries to untangle himself from Andre— though Andre subconsciously tightens his arms around Cal to pull him a little closer to his chest. In the morning, Cal’s drenched in sweat, with his blond locks sticking to his face, so he has to blow his fan right on himself. He doesn’t really get all that hot during the cold winter months of the year 2000.

Cal likes to cuddle. Andre does, too, but he pretends it doesn’t really bother him that much. Cal likes to lie on Andre’s chest while Andre holds him. Other times, when Andre is spooning him, but they both wake up in the most uncomfortable positions, so they have to rub each other’s necks and backs after LMAO.

Andre always says “C’mere” before he kisses Cal. He also lets out small, content sighs when they’re in bed together or cuddling on the couch. Cal likes hearing Andre’s grunts and noises. It kind of gives him cuteness aggression, so he has to squish his cheeks.

Despite the good moments they do have together, though, they’re both extremely unstable, demented teenage boys. They argue a lot, and their fights get real heated, sometimes leading to physical altercations between them. Neither Andre nor Cal see domestic violence as a bad thing. Andre sees it as a way to get his anger out, and Cal sees it as a way to “teach Andre a lesson”. They bicker and grow hostile toward one another when they’re alone together, and their more worse arguments tend to be about upcoming Zero Day, among various other stupid shit. Andre and Cal get angry easily, and hold equal amounts of rage toward their peers at Iroquois, but it comes out differently for both of them. Yet even though they think they’re alone when they set each other off and become aggressive, Mel— Andre’s cat— is often sitting off to the side, like on Andre’s windowsill, watching the two. She doesn’t really understand what’s going on, with her being a small animal and all, but she does sense negative energy.

Adding on previously, Cal is a gaslighter. Whenever Andre tries to be civil with him and tell him about the things he does that piss him off, Cal doesn’t want to admit when he’s wrong. He asks Andre things like, “When?” Or “I didn’t do that,”. Sometimes it honestly makes Andre question himself, even when he knows he’s right deep down.

NSFW

Handling guns are awfully romantic. Sometimes Calvin and Andre will fuck in Andre’s car, after going out and shooting guns in the woods— excluding Chris, obviously. Chris is the one who has the guns, so Andre uses his dad’s guns when Chris isn’t available for Andre and Calvin to use his guns. When it’s just him and Cal, Andre likes to find a way to show his appreciation for Cal— since he doesn’t really say it that much, besides on Zero Day during their little intimate exchange, of course. But uhHh, sometimes Andre gets a sick sense of arousal when he sees Cal shoot. The way his hands clench around the grip, the way his eyebrows are knitted together in concentration— Cal isn’t normally one to wear tank tops, especially when he’s experiencing symptoms of his dysphoria, but he knows Andre won’t judge him, so he wears tanks when it’s them alone, since it does show off a little bit of his body. He wears these kinds of shirts most notably when they’re out in the woods shooting guns. Andre doesn’t have any shame in subtly checking Cal out, but he gets embarrassed and defensive when he catches him doing so. Moving forward with my point, all of this combined kind of— no, really turns Andre on. Andre doesn’t prefer having sex out in the woods, with the excuse that “the birds are watching them”; he prefers the privacy of his car. Cal really enjoys riding Andre, ‘cause he can feel the head of Andre’s cock grinding up against his folds, and then Andre can feel how wet he is for him.

Andre is a sucker for Cal’s little clit. He calls it a “button” because that was the first thing he thought of when he first saw Cal’s vagina. Cal found it cute, ‘cause he’d never really seen it that way— and it made him feel a little better about himself, therefore Andre continued calling Cal’s clit a “button”. Andre likes to lap at Cal’s pussy and suck on his button— he loves the taste of him, and plus, it essentially serves as a lubricant, which helps Andre when he gets to have his “alone time” with Cal. When Andre first started eating Calvin out, he was a bit sloppy and clumsy with his technique— after all, he’d never dated anyone before, so he was just as inexperienced as Cal was. They both learned along the way, and eventually Andre was able to get Cal to scream his name— after all, one of Cal’s favorite things is the feeling of Andre’s mouth on his pussy.

Cal essentially taught Andre how to eat pussy; Andre essentially taught Cal how to suck dick. Calvin helped Andre find his sweetest spots whenever he went down on him, and once he found those areas by tonguing his cunt alone, Cal cried out in pleasure. Now, with Andre, he helped guide Cal’s mouth down onto his member— the first time Cal blew Andre, of course. The mere sensation alone nearly made Andre spill his seed into Cal’s mouth, and Cal couldn’t even take him that deep down his throat yet. But after more practice— Cal thinks this is embarrassing, and he never wanted to admit it to Andre, but he tried to “reduce” his gag reflex by sticking popsicles and bananas down his throat when he was alone— he was able to take Andre nearly to his tonsils.

Andre likes to squish and knead Cal’s breasts when he isn’t wearing bandages around his chest. Cal frequently wraps bandages around his chest to conceal and flatten his breasts. He never told anyone besides Andre and Rachel, but even with Rachel he was hesitant, anxious about her reaction— yet when she responded in an accepting, caring manner, he felt better. Anyhow, Cal takes them off when he’s alone or when him and Andre are about to get intimate together. When Andre gets to see Cal’s breasts, he’s like a mutt in heat. His hormones affect him a lot, and seeing Cal’s body is kind of like eye candy. He doesn’t really show it much, but he truly admires Calvin’s body, and sometimes when Cal’s changing, he’ll let Andre touch his breasts, even though he was initially repulsed at the idea. Not at Andre, but to his own body. Andre didn’t see his fears as that big of a deal, admittedly he’d never really known why Cal was so self-conscious. But he’d seen Cal’s body in Cal’s own eyes; he doesn’t understand his dysphoria all that well. Nonetheless, Cal is now more open to the idea of Andre touching his chest, because he likes how it makes him feel. He likes how Andre makes him feel, and it honestly makes him wet when he feels his rough thumb pads gently rubbing his nipples, hands squeezing and rubbing his mounds. Andre had heard that breasts were sensitive, so he tried to be as gentle as possible. Cal’s nipples are quite erogenous and stimulating.

When Cal sits on Andre’s lap, it’s kind of a 50/50 chance of Andre getting hard LMAO. The first time this happened— Cal was trying to watch Andre play DOOM on his computer, and so he went and sat down on his lap, but accidentally sat down right on Andre’s dick. Andre tried to ignore the feeling of Cal’s ass against his growing bulge, but eventually Calvin found out. He didn’t know what to do at first, but since Andre wasn’t mentioning his… predicament, Cal decided to test it out by intentionally shifting around on his lap. And Andre’s erection only grew more painful, so he subtly placed his hand on Cal’s inner thigh and squeezed, trying to tell him to stop without actually saying anything. Unfortunately, though, Cal didn’t fucking listen. So Andre had mumbled in his ear, “Fucking stop that, you spiteful bastard,”. That made Cal stop for a moment, but then he’d replied, “Control yourself, then,” but his words held no malice— and he had a shit-eating grin on his face; he knew what he was doing. This really pushed Andre’s buttons, so he hissed out in his ear, “It’s not my fault you sat on it!” Which— essentially is true, but Cal still ended up responding with, “Aim your game, man,”. And then, right after Andre retorted, “I’ll aim it into you,” things got pretty heated between them. Andre wanted to touch Cal so fucking badly. He wanted those pink lips wrapped around his shaft. He wanted to hear Cal whimper. He wanted to hear him cry. He wanted to hear him suffocate. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, at least not this intensely— and his parents had always told him in the past that he’d find the right person for him. Which, he did, back in the sixth grade when he’d met Calvin. Before Andre started liking Cal, he was convinced he’d never find anyone and that he’d fuck everything up even if he tried. But he didn’t. Not this time. Going back to my point, though, Andre had stuck his hand down Cal’s pants, roughly rubbing him through his panties ‘till he got all wet for him— though, Andre wasn’t really all that great with masturbating Cal for him, either. So he was kind of fumbling until he was able to shove his hand inside his panties and start rubbing his slick folds… pinching his little clit between his fingers, too. With his free hand, he let go of his mouse and moved it up, slapping his palm over Cal’s mouth while grinding up into his ass. Their pleasured pants and grunts combined delightfully, and Andre leaned down to whimper against Cal’s ear. With all of that alone, Andre was able to get himself off even by dry humping Cal— and Cal, of course, came all over his fingers.

Andre likes to squeeze Cal’s ass when he’s facing away from him. Not necessarily in a playful way, or even in a suggestive manner, but instead as a silent way to show his appreciation for him. Like mentioned previously, Andre isn’t good with words, and he doesn’t like to be all sappy and shit like a normal guy would be— and Cal knows that. He isn’t really sappy either, but he is a bit more affectionate than Andre generally is. It kind of startles Cal when Andre caresses his ass cheek, but he doesn’t complain. He likes having Andre’s hands all over him.

Cal enjoys getting kissed on the neck. Not due to sexual stimulation, but because of how warm and giddy it makes him feel inside— mainly because Andre isn’t overly affectionate, especially not in public. It makes him feel genuinely happy— which is kind of a rare thing for him— when Andre gives him little neck and jaw kisses, or when he feels Andre snake his arms around him. Cal does like to spoon Andre as well, though, but he doesn’t return the neck kisses because he knows Andre does get quite aroused due to some areas on his neck. When Cal wants to have a rather nice, tender moment with Andre, he doesn’t kiss or suck at his neck. Instead, he nuzzles him. During sex, though, he likes to bite Andre and litter his neck in kisses and hickeys.

Andre never knew how much he liked to see Cal bloody until he walked in on him cutting himself. One night, at Calvin’s house, him and Andre were arguing, so Cal stormed off in what Andre could assume was an act out of pettiness or spite, so Andre just lingered in Cal’s room instead of going after him. He kind of snooped around and messed with his stuff out of curiosity until he heard some faint cries coming from down the hall. Which, Andre followed the noises and saw that the bathroom door was shut, and he saw the light on. Without knocking, he barged into the bathroom and saw that Cal had been cutting himself and reopening small, past scars. Andre wanted to feel horrible— well, believe me, he did, but in a different way. He got hard at the sight of Cal’s bloodied forearms and upper arms, and he felt extremely guilty as a result. He wanted to feel sick, to genuinely comfort him in the best way he could… the only way he knew how to. But he couldn’t, he liked it. But he forced himself to ignore his erection, no matter how distracting it was, and he ended up just helping him patch up his arms, scolding him for his actions.

But eventually, out of the blue, Cal asked if Andre could cut him. Andre didn’t want to, initially, for the shame practically ate him up at the idea. However, eventually, he gave in— and after he’d chopped up the skin on Cal’s arms, he scooped up some of his thin blood on his fingertips and shoved it into Cal’s mouth, forcing him to taste himself. The other hand went to his cock, and he palmed himself as he watched Cal suck on his fingers. Afterward, he’d stuck his hand down into Cal’s jeans, and he penetrated his pussy with his bloodstained fingertips. Then, Cal— with his hands rather bloody, undid Andre’s pants and jerked him off for him, then wrapped his lips around his cock, so that when Andre came, his lips had traces of both his own blood, and also Andre’s cum.

[incomprehensiblebi]

college courses making me realize i am nowhere near as knowledgable, insightful, or analytical as i could be. i genuinely do not have a problem with this, as it means i can still grow as a thinker, which is one of my favorite things to be. it excites me that i am still learning, that i am still being surprised, that i am still misunderstanding and getting things incorrect, because then, i know. i retain what i can, and am able to apply it to anything in my life. the possibilities are infinite already, but that infinity keeps growing larger and larger. i'm glad i'm here.

[dreamiie4her]

How i mastered the art of persisting & how yall can too

hello my luvs, lemme tell u, its been a rlly eventful last 2 weeks in terms of me undergo a drastic shift in my mindset and WHEWWWWW, i thought it was time to share with yall

storytime

this past year i told myself i would adopt a strict mental diet where i wouldn't let doubts stop me or anything and lemme tell you, it was such a rocky road. There would be periods of me affirming that i was a master shifter, seek validation from the 3D and then start dwelling in my old state again. This cycle of giving up continued until i came across these posts. I then deeped how i've been overcomplicating manifesting & shifting to the point where i would give up so easily on my new states because "persisting was too hard” when it rlly wasn't. Anyways, lemme share my favourite tips & advice i learnt.

THE ADVICE & TIPS

stop associating emotions w/ states

Once i stopped associating me doubting, being frustrated, etc with my state, i found stuff x10000 EASIER!! I be affirming when i'm sad/frustrated because my emotions do NAWT define me. If something happens in my life, i allow myself to acknowledge it then i affirm on loop that "everything gets better" and the very fact i am a master manifestor.

manifesting will exist whether u like it or not

whenever i feel like "giving up", i remember that no matter if i "give up" on my desires or not, the law of assumption will still operate in the same principle of dominant thoughts materialising ur reality. So that really made me think, why would i not take advantage of knowing about the loa and manifesting everything i want? Like once you find out about the law of assumption, there is no turning back so u might aswell utilise it.

you can never lose your "manifestation powers"

Sometimes i be having thoughts "what if i lose my manifestation powers" and its like?? i will always be able to manifest easily & so will you. You can never "lose" the ability to manifest. Its a LAW. Meaning you will always be able to do it

pick a staple affirmation & loop it no matter what

After utilising robotic affirming, i've felt so much more FULFILLED then i ever did. Trust me when i say, pick one affirmation (e.g. "i am a master shifter") and keep affirming through your doubts, random thoughts, etc. Litreally when you deep it, affirming is basically thinking and thinking is super duper easy. So picking one affirmation and continuously repeating it is so easy even when you feel like your having sm doubts (trust me, once u get in the habit of js affirming, things feel sm easier).

you don't need to believe to manifest

Before some of yall come at me, lemme tell yall something. When i got more serious about the loa this year, i overconsumed a sh!t ton of loa content stating in order to manifest your desires and it made me feel so frustrated whenever i felt doubts/overwhelmed when affirming for my desire. The belief bit will follow natrually while persisting, dont focus on beliving in ur manifestation, keep repeating you have it & your belief of it will feel more natrual as you keep repeating it (if that makes sense)

the 3D isn't the end, keep persisting

I made a post about this but to keep it short & simple, your 3D circumstances aren't permanent. Just because you may be experiencing the opposite of what you want in the 3D, doesn't mean it will stay like that forever and your manifestation "won't work". Keep affirming bb <3

okie that's it for the post <3 i'll probs make a pt2 if i got anymore advice?? but hope yall liked it ;3

[alatusprinz]

when you call him good boy .

characters: wanderer/scaramouche, kaedehara kazuha, albedo, xiao

genre: smut, (warning of explicit words choice)

-

Scaramouche/Wanderer sneers at you mockingly when the words fall from your mouth. His grip on your hips tightened as he snapped his hips into your behind roughly, deliberately thrusting in so deep so your back arches with your face buried into the pillow. He hated when your needy moans were silenced when it wasn’t on his accord, making him reach out to grip onto your hair roughly to pull your body up while holding onto your neck with his other hand, forcing you to find balance in an awkward position with your knees on the mattress and back against his chest. His hips never halted one bit, still thrusting in relentlessly into your drenched walls as your mind blanked out from the dizzying stimulation. Tightening his grip on your neck, he leans into your ear, almost purring in a sickeningly sweet voice. 

"Fuck, you like that don't you? Like being used like a little dolly for me?" You whimpered weakly as your scalp slightly burned from his tight grip, your body moving to meet his slams involuntarily from the force of his each thrust. It always felt like this, almost too good, too overwhelming from the borderline ruthless way he fucked you. As your broken moans persisted and he wanted to see you break down more, let go of your hair with a satisfied smirk and instead held onto both your wrists to pull your body back to meet his hips, manhandling you and taking you as he pleased.

His grip on your wrists tightened as pulled them back to slam your ass to his hips over and over, your cunt almost sore and aching from how he used you like a toy for his pleasure.

“Yeah? Fuck, call me that again, let me know how much of a good boy I am being.” 

-

Kazuha’s gaze was always starstruck and almost drunk in love when he was staring at you as he slipped into your snug walls over and over. He was so hypnotized by you, completely allured more every second you two spent together. And he never knew he could fall even deeper until you looked at him with that sultry gaze, mouth open and making the prettiest sounds for him, and called him your good boy. Your good boy. An infatuated smile blossoming on his face, his cock pressed in deep, then he moved in a grinding motion slightly as you squirmed and mewled in pleasure. He was looking at you with heart in his eyes, completely enchanted and greedy to see more of your beauty. Nobody could ever compare or hold a candle to how beautiful you looked under him when he made love to you.

That’s right- he almost whimpers at your word as his hold on your waist tightened, immediately pressing his lips onto yours. His kiss was needy, desperate to feel you in his arms, if there was anything in this world that he couldn’t lose ever, it would undoubtedly be you. Kazuha’s heart feels like it would leap out any moment now as he rolls his hips into yours, trying his best to go sensual and slow although his patience was running thin every time your breathy moans graced his ears. His lips lowered to your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and he whispered. 

“All yours my love, all yours… Your good boy, yours…” 

-

A soft moan leaves Albedo’s mouth in pleasant surprise at the praise he hears from you. His inquisitive gaze never leaves your face, in fact his sight never seemed to focus on anything else other than your pretty expressions when he made love to you. The way your eyes fluttered shut when his tip brushes over your sensitive spot (one he knows all too well by now), the differences in your moans when he grinds into you, slowly pushes as deep as he can to drag upon your tender spot, or when he sometimes indulge his greed and slams into you harder and faster as your nails scratched into his back- all of your precious reactions are recorded in his mind like a rewound tape. 

You called him good boy- his pupils dilated visibly if you had half the mind to notice, and suddenly he was all the more determined to please you more. His mouth latched onto your nipple, one hand gripping onto your waist as he rutted inside your warm walls, pleasured groans leaving his lips while he sucked on harder. You swore sight blurred as his other hand was suddenly rubbing over your clit, circling and flicking the way he knew you moaned the prettiest for him. He knew your body better than you did by now, Albedo took silent pride in that fact. And he intended on being a good boy for you every day and night, whenever you desire him.  

- Xiao almost gets too pleasure-driven from the moment your lips are on his more sensually, from the second your touches turn suggestive. His eyes are always clouded over with lust, desire and admiration towards you, he is hardly even lucid when he finally pushes into your eager walls, he can never control himself fully once he had a taste of you- all that mattered to him was you, your moans, and your face twisting in pleasure. That’s why when you first called him your good boy, he didn’t even hear it. His one hand was pressing yours to the mattress, fingers entwined as he rammed inside needily, it felt so good, he wanted to be buried inside your snug walls forever- this insatiable lust transfers over to his actions because as much as he tries, he can’t seem to be too gentle and from the way you moan sharply each time he slams in and his cock rubs against your insides just right, Xiao couldn’t find it in him to slow down anyways.

His fingers laced with yours on one hand, indirectly holding you down in place with how with each thrust made your linked hands sink down onto the sheets, and his other holding onto your hip so tight it felt like it would bruise,. You muttered out a weak “good boy” once more- this time he heard it all too well. He groaned in pleasure at your words, at your beauty or your tight cunt he couldn’t tell, all he knew was he had to give you more, make you take more of him. His lips are on your neck and his sharp teeth sank down on the side, his lustful panting and deep moans ringing in your ear. Your wince of pain was drowned out in the high-pitched whiny moan when his claws unintentionally dug onto your hips as he forced your walls to take all of him, slamming his hips to yours desperately like he would die if he didn’t engrave the feeling of your warmth around him inside his mind. Your sweet moans always made his heart flutter, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he bit down harder on your neck, rutting into you as though to remind you that you’re all his, and he’d be your ‘good boy’ always and forever.

[wtfsteveharrington]

after midnight | carmen berzatto x reader

summary: chicago is expensive, okay? so you pick up a job outside of the restaurant which just so happens to involve your camera. everything's fine until richie stumbles upon the website and shares it with camry.

contents: perv!carmy, male & female masturbation, sex toys, dirty talk, cam sex, slight dub-con kinda if you look for it. carmy’s honestly a wreck. mentions of unprotected sex, choking, oral sex, overstimulation. please note!! no formal intercourse takes place yet but it's cuming coming but ya girl wants a slow burn

reader description: she/her pronouns, there is semi a hair scene but i use no real descriptors so still vague!

word count: basically 3.9k

author notes: first fic in a year baby and boy did i lose the plot!! filth!! also i sure love saying fuck in this so enjoy that

part two

★–————————–

Richie’s voice is annoying. It echos, ricochets off the walls, and can’t be contained by even the highest quality of sound proofing. Which is why, at 8 in the morning, Carmen’s already considering having to take Excedrin as Richie bursts through the doors. 

“Carmy, Cousin, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what I found last night.” He’s out of breath after running in, fumbling around with his phone in a rush to pull something up. He’d spent all night contemplating if he texted Carmen or waited to show him in person. Ultimately the urge to see his reaction won but that didn’t stop Richie from waking up before his alarm out of excitement. “Listen, we’re both grown ass men so I’m gonna say it -“ he’s glancing around to make sure they’re alone, “- So I’m laying there and jerkin’ my shit, right?” 

Carmen’s wincing, pinching the bridge of his nose and contemplating every decision that brought him back to Chicago. 

“Dude, fuck off. I don’t wanna hear -“ Richie tsks, cutting him off. 

“Nah, shut the fuck up because you wanna hear this. In fact, you’re gonna wanna fall to your knees and kiss my shoes and praise my ass as a thank you for finding this.” 

He’s holding up his phone, an iPhone 8 he refuses to upgrade, and illuminated on the screen is a video of you. You, on your knees, in lingerie. You, with your fingers dragging down your chest, across the lace that covers your breasts. Your head falls back as you run your thumbs across your nipples. A sound so angelic coming from your lips that Carmen starts to understand why people spend so much time at Church. He’s convinced you’re hand carved by God, or Buddha, or whatever might be up there. 

Carmy’s instantly feeling a rush of heat across his chest and his cheeks as he takes the sight of you in. It feels wrong but at the same time the coiling in his stomach feels so good he can’t look away quite yet. “Why the…” He’s cut off by a whine coming from Richie’s speaker as you keep teasing yourself. His brain is frying for a second as he tries to focus on finishing his sentence. “How the hell did you find this?” 

“Listen, sometimes I get bored on the same ole sites, okay? Clicked an ad to see who was live and ended up here. Now I stopped watching, obviously, out of respect but this? I’ve known you long enough to know when you gotta thing for someone and you’re not gonna act on it. Also, I caught you staring at her ass as she filled the deep freeze the other night. Kinda gave it away. So this is the way you can still get some pussy while being a fuckin’ pussy.” Richie’s punching the air, clearly proud of himself.

Carmy’s smacking him upside the head, his body now torn between lust and annoyance. “Watch your mouth, alright? That is so fucked, Richie. Put that shit anyway and I better not see you tell a single other person this exists.” 

And yeah, he took note of your screen name before he walked away. Don’t judge him. 

———★–————————–

Look - There have been a lot of times in his life where Carmen hasn’t been proud of himself. But settling back into bed, hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down to rest under his balls? Yeah, he’s not proud to say the least. After seeing even just the glimpse of you this morning though it’s been all he could think about. The. Whole. Fucking. Day. He watched out of the corner of his eye while you bent over the line to scrub down the wall behind your station tonight. Burning to memory the way your ass just slightly jiggled from the aggressive motion of wiping down the surface. A soft grunt coming from you as you reach for something just a little too high. He finally snapped out of it when the smell of the chemicals he sprayed down on his own surface got a little too strong and refocused. 

He wasn’t proud when he ran to the restroom and contemplated just jacking off over the toilet to get some relief. You were clouding his brain, only the rush of the evening giving him some small relief. 

You seemed vocal in the small clip he saw. He’s wondering if you would have asked him to cum for you. Would you think it’s a waste that he’s cumming down the drain instead of covering your ass with it? Filling your mouth and making you swallow every drop around him? Or, Jesus Christ, would you wrap your legs around his waist and beg him not to pull out? 

So yeah. Carmy’s had quite the fucking day to say the least. 

He’s finally home and running straight to bed. His stuff dropped in a heap by the front door and was easily forgotten. Throwing himself back onto the mattress after ripping off his shirt and his pants. Left just groaning into the empty room, his cock twitching at the thought of you. Your page has been sitting on an Incognito tab all day and it’s finally, finally being loaded up. This feels like an invasion of privacy in a way but Carmen can’t quite think logically with how heavy his balls feel and how painfully hard he is. There’s not much time to spare so he clicks the first video you’ve uploaded that he can.

And there you are. 

Sitting in the middle of a big bed and rubbing your hands along your thighs, smiling at the camera. His heart is twitching, cock is twitching, everything is fucking twitching. And you’re just sitting there, licking your lips and sliding your hands under the thin material of some weird lace one piece he wants to rip off. 

“Hi there, Pretty Boy.” Your voice is music to his ears and Carmy can’t take it any longer. His fist is wrapping around his cock, a broken moan filling the room as he finally gets some relief. ��I’ve been waiting for you to come home all day.”

Sue him, but he’s skipping ahead a little. There’s not much time until he cums and he needs to see you. All of you. He’s gripping his phone with one hand, bringing the other that’s around his cock up to his mouth to spit in. His thumb is haphazardly trying to keep the phone balanced while scrubbing through the video until he thinks he’s at a good spot. You’re laid back now, thighs spread for the camera and pussy on display. Carmen’s muttering to himself about how gorgeous you are, longing to tell you in person. You’re holding this royal blue dildo in your hands that’s suddenly his biggest enemy. He deserves to be there, not this stupid, useless chuck of silicone. There’s a whimper from the speaker as you take the toy and slide it along yourself, tapping it twice against your clit. “Fuck, I need you.” 

Fuckin’ hell does he needs you too. 

His fist is clamped around his dick once again, fucking his hips up into the the slick, tight grip. You’re still teasing yourself by sticking just the head of the dildo in before gasping and pulling it back out. “Please, Baby. I need you so bad, need to come for you.” His brain is breaking. An animalistic urge taking over to fuck you until you can’t move, can’t think, just a blubbering mess begging him for more. Without warning you push the dildo all the way in, throwing your head back with a pleasured scream. 

Carmy gasps, hips sputtering and losing their rhythm as he watches you fuck yourself. He’s stroking himself at the same pace you’re moving the dildo, imaging it’s you he’s fucking into. Picturing you laid under him, your breasts covered in hickies because he hates the idea of these… Perverts watching you get off. He wants to mark you, claim you as his. His balls are tightening and he can’t think of the last time he came this quick. It’s almost embarrassing - What are you doing to him? 

Your free hand comes up to shove two fingers in your mouth, lewdly sucking them for the camera. The sucking noise now accompanying the wet, addictive sounds of your pussy being fucked. Carmen whimpers, actually fucking whimpers, and twists his wrist over his cock to get a little more friction. Your voice hits him once again as you slide your wet fingers out of your mouth and down your throat. “Oh fuck I’m so close. So, so close. Are you close, Baby? Want you to come with me.” You’re lightly choking yourself, a whining mess. 

Carmy’s aware he’s talking to an empty room but he can’t stop himself. “Fuck, oh fuck. Gonna come for you.” And his stomach coils, hips sputter, the phone falling to the bed as he has to let go of it as his orgasm washes over him. He’s slack jaw, warm cum landing on his chest and the sounds of you finishing at the same time ringing out from his phone. 

Oh he’s so fucked. 

————–——★–————

Carmy slept well for once in his life. His orgasm lulling his body to sleep, dreams filled of you. How beautiful you look sucking his cock. The way you must sound while he eats you out. And he takes his time in his dream. Tongue dragging between your folds as his rough hands hold your hips in place. You’re powerless, made to lay back and let him eat you out for his own pleasure. Tongue circling around your clit but he waits until you’re close to tears to stop teasing. He’d praise you. “Look how fucking wet you are, Princess. You’re already getting the bed wet, aren’t you? Gonna have to lick you for hours to get you all cleaned up. Can you say please, huh? Ask me to suck on your clit, Baby. You know you need it.” 

He woke up hard and overstimulated, rolling over onto his stomach and pathetically dragging his hips against the warm bed to get some much needed friction along his cock. Carmy’s telling himself how pathetic this is and forcing himself to push off the bed and get into the shower before he’s late. 

Yes, he jacked off in the shower before work. 

He had to. 

Carmy can’t decide if it’s heaven or hell when he walks in to see you standing in the kitchen. 

You’re on your tiptoes, balancing haphazardly as you’re reaching up to change the light. There’s a wobbly step stool under you. Everyone keeps saying it needs to be replaced but it continues to live on. Your face is scrunching up in concentration. Carmy’s chuckling at the sight and ignoring the way he feels his balls tug at the sight of you. “What’re you doing there, Chef?” 

You huff in annoyance, finally untwisting the light cover from the ceiling. “Damn light went out right as I started veggie prep. Hate to be a bother but will you come spot me while I’m up on this thing? I’ve seen Fak bust his ass one too many times to trust it.” 

Carmy can’t verbally respond at first, instead stalking over to stand next to you. His hand comes up to cup the back of your knee and he’s lying to himself saying it’s for your own safety. To keep you balanced. “Yea well something tells me you’re less clumsy than Fak. I’ve seen that guy fall over while just standing still.” 

And you laugh. 

You laugh. At him. At his joke. He, Carmen Berzatto, made you laugh. The sound filling his ears and now his damn heart and balls are both reacting to you and what the hell is he supposed to do with all these emotions. 

“Don’t distract me up here, Chef.” He doesn’t mind taking commands from you. Silently reaching up to hold the light fixture you’re passing him as you change gears to switch out the lightbulbs now. 

And maybe his eyes are wandering around the kitchen to see who else might catch a glimpse of you two together. Everyone who’s in so far is honed in on their prep task and Carmy thanks God that Richie hasn’t shown up yet today. 

He’s become quite faithful since he started falling for you it seems. 

It happens, by chance, that you feel a little unsteady and Carmen tightens his grip on the back of your leg. Fingers digging into your soft skin. He’s looking down at the stool to make sure it’s level before looking up to take in the sight that is his hand around your leg. 

And he stops looking there. 

Okay fine that’s a fucking lie - he’s looking up. Eyes trailing up your thighs, following along the curve of your ass. When you have to lean forward just slightly to twist in the light cover he’s convinced he can see the outline of your pussy through the thin material of your leggings. He’s contemplating his options - If he could, would he lean in and lick over the outline? His warm mouth teasing you through your leggings. Through your underwear. Are you wearing underwear? He’s torn between picturing you with or without them. 

Or would he slide his hand up your leg, palming your thigh as he goes. Cupping over you and dragging his middle finger across the shape of you. Memorizing the feeling. Would you whine? Grind down against his hand? He doesn’t think you’d shoo his touch away. 

God he just knows you’re a needy little thing. 

He wonders what it would feel like for you to lick your own wetness from his jaw after he’s decided he’s done savoring you. To taste you on your own tongue when he kissed you after. You’d look so pretty with his cum dripping down your lips too. All fucked out and exhausted and full of bliss. 

“Okay, I think I got it fixed, Carmy.” God, he’s so fucked for thinking of you like this as you’re innocently changing the light. Just trying to improve the kitchen and he’s thinking about ruining you. He was so caught up in daydreaming that he didn’t even feel you take the light cover back out of his hand and screw it into place again. 

You’re beaming down at him, using his shoulders as arm rests as you bounce down from the stepping stool. His hand grazes your ass - A total accident. He swears it. You reach behind him to sit the screwdriver down, your chest firmly against his. Nothing thinking anything of the personal space violation as you’re used to it from so many slammed nights in the kitchen. 

“Thank you for helping me. Sorry it was basically just five minutes of my ass in your face.” Carmy chokes. 

His cheeks are hot. 

Fuck is he blushing? 

He’s sputtering out of his words. “It uh, it wasn’t in my face. Not that I looked, y’know. Just uh… Just - just trying to say that I’m happy to help.” He sounds like an idiot

You’re cocking an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Holy shit, Carmy.” You pat your hands against his chest, not knowing your touch was like fire on his skin. He grabs the screwdriver and makes a beeline to the office to put it away for you. 

Sure he grabbed a rag on the way. No it’s not for him to jack off into while he thinks of you. 

Okay fine, it is. 

“Fuck me.” The only thing Carmy can risk trying to say as the door shuts heavy behind him and his pants hit the ground. 

———————–★–———

Carmen doesn’t avoid you now but he certainly makes it hard to get close to you. He’s too distracted when you’re around. Maybe there’s a bit of guilt mixed in too at his new night routine. Leave the restaurant, load your page, and wait to see what happens. New videos? New pictures? You were wormed into the back of his brain and it had to stop. 

So your station got moved further down rotation. You’re at the end of the line on the left, he’s at the start on the right. It helps clear his mind, lets him hone in on perfecting what goes to the floor. 

He’s able to move quickly, shifts blowing by as the restaurant’s rush takes all his attention. The clock clicks down two minutes till close, everyone working in silence to get the place flipped and go home. He’s wrapping up with Syd, helping her make a few adjustments to expo before grabbing a dead plate off of the end of the line and heading to the office with his food and a cup of water in hand. He needs a mental minute, a bite of food, and to let his thoughts all catch up. 

The door’s already cracked and he’s halfway through the entry way when he registers you. Sitting there. At his desk. Your legs are crossed, a cool damp towel resting over your eyes. He wants to turn on his heel and retreat but decides that he can’t treat you any differently just because he’s developed some silly little crush. Running away would be treating you different. 

“You good, Chef?” 

To which you groan. Different from the ones he’s used to - This one is guttural, pained. You press your hands flat against the rag and will the cool temperature to help the pressure in your head. “Killer migraine, that’s all. Shit was moving so fast tonight and I wacked the back of my head on something in the walk in. Sorry for being in here, Carm. Just uh, needed a second.” You should push up out of the chair, show your respect. But right now you’re half convinced that standing up would be detrimental so for now you’re cemented to the seat. 

“Heard.” Carmen nods to himself, sitting down the plate before opening up the desk drawer as quietly as possible. Your knee is pressing into the side of his thigh, grounding and warm. He fishes out a bottle of medicine, shaking out two pills. “Hold out your hand.” 

You take a second to brace yourself for movement, sitting up and moving the towel off your eyes. Letting it pile up into a clump on the desk besides you. There’s no way around it - You look pitiful. Pouting up at Carmen as he hands over two pills and his cup out water. You take the pills diligently, taking a few gulps and letting your eyes fall back closed as you will them to kick in instantly. “Can I ask a favor?” 

“Anything, Chef.” 

Slowly, so not to shake yourself up, you turn the chair until your back is to Carmen. “Will you see if I gotta bump back there? Kinda terrified I gave myself a concussion but I don’t wanna believe it was that hard.” 

He snickering, a grin pulling up the corners of his mouth as he steps closer. “Well you’d absolutely fuck me if you needed to file workmen’s comp so I’m gonna need you to be fine, ‘kay? Way too much fuckin’ paperwork to do on a Friday night.” You start to laugh but it’s quickly cut off into a small groan of appreciation as you feel warm, rough hands clasp either side of your shoulders. 

Carmen works his way up your neck and catches himself holding his breath as his fingers brush along your scalp. He’s taking his time, savoring the moment, all under the pretense of taking care of his employee. That’s all. “Think we’re both in the clear. You feeling alright besides the headache? Need me to hold up some fingers for ya to guess? Haven’t managed to cut any off so we’ve got all ten to work with.” He’s got you laughing again while rough fingers work their way back down to your neck. The feeling of the vibration of your laughter against his hands sending chills down his back. 

Wordlessly Carmen gets to work rubbing your shoulders. Tender, deep. Years of practice rolling out dough and desserts and tenderizing meat coming into play as he continues to knead away at your tense body. You let out an appreciative moan and Carmen has to start thinking of something to keep his inevitable hard on from being obvious. 

When his hands come up closer to your neck once again he’s hit with flashbacks of the first video he watched. You choking yourself — Is that something you truly liked? If his hand came around to cup your throat, palm resting on one side with his fingertips firmly against the other, and lightly squeezed would you moan? Rub your thighs together in search of some hint of relief? 

“Are you always this good with your hands, Chef? Hmm? Can’t imagine you giving Marcus this treatment.” You’re laughing and can practically hear the smirk in Carmen’s voice as he responds. “Yeah - You uh, didn’t know that? I just love you know, rubbing shoulders. It’s my thing. Kick your ass all night and then rub the stress out.” 

He’s blanching a little at his reply. Kinda obvious but okay then, Carmen. You reach up, putting your hands atop his with a little smile. “Well thank you for… Rubbing my stress out, Chef.” 

Carmen’s red. Head to toe just bright red. “Of course, Chef. Anytime.” He’s entertaining to say the least as you pat his hands before spinning around in his chair. You snag another drink of water, throwing him a wink before moving to exit the office. Your hand runs along his chest, an appreciative gesture, as you head back to the floor. 

——————————★–

Late Saturday night Carmen’s so exhausted that he barely has the energy to take his work clothes off. Falling haphazardly onto his old couch, kicking his work boots off one at a time. His eyes are heavy, body aching, and he almost falls asleep before he gets to see you. 

But he’s fishing his phone from his pocket, refreshing the all too familiar landing page to see you’re actively live. How you have the energy is beyond him. 

You’re standing there trying on clothes that someone must send in and Carmy feels a pang of jealousy. He’s watching through half hooded eyes as you slip in a pair of shorts, turning your behind towards the camera and pulling them up just slightly to put more of your ass on display. You’re chatting away about the material while slowly pulling them down to reveal just this frilly little pair of panties that was sent in as well. 

He’s propping the phone up on the armrest of the couch, laying on his side while he watches you chat away. It’s soothing. Almost like an ASMR video. 

Carmen’s not sure when he fell asleep - Somewhere in-between you trying on a third outfit and attempting to clean up your bed from all the packaging. He finds you soothing, comforting. He makes a mental note to hunt out some sort of wish list you must have for these items before passing out and, once again, dreaming of you.

[watchmegetobsessed]

OLD GRUDGES (part 1)

A/N: wooohoooo im bringing something new!!! i feel like it happens so rarely it's like a miracle lol anyway, this will be hopefully a couple of parts (probably about 3) and lets all pray i will actually finish it lol

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNING: sexual content

SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Everyone loves Harry Styles. It’s a known fact, not just amongst the people who actually know him, but all around the world. He is known as one of the most unproblematic celebrities, someone who gives just as much if not even more respect as he gets, always kind and patient with others, rarely loses his temper. It’s hard to imagine that there is anyone walking this planet who doesn’t see him as a lovable, sweet man.

Well, it might be hard to imagine, but there is actually one person who has a very different opinion when it comes to the british popstar. 

And that person is music producer, Y/N. 

The interesting thing is that their history goes way back into his 1D days. Y/N was an up and coming name in the industry, just started working with bigger names when she got the chance to produce several songs on the band’s third studio album. Harry remembers her as a bubbly, funny girl who is passionate about her job and is also excellent in it. Working with her was easy and motivating, she was always eager to perfect songs to an extent Harry couldn’t even imagine and that’s why songs like Story Of My Life, You & I and Midnight Memories were such hits. Y/N put her heart and soul into them, which eventually earned all the recognition they deserved. 

Harry loved working with Y/N and she was in talks of working on their fourth album as well, but the deal ended up ditched and she went on to do other projects and they somehow had a fallout. It was a shame, but he hoped his path would cross hers again. 

Years and years went by and so much changed by the time their professional ways finally met again. Jeff brought her name up when Harry just started writing for his fourth solo album and Harry gave him the go to do whatever it takes to get her on the project. A few weeks passed and Harry didn’t get any confirmation about her and just when he was about to bring it up to Jeff, he hit him with the news.

“Y/N is in for five songs. Contract should be signed by Wednesday and you can start working next week.”

Harry wondered why it took so long to get her on board, but he brushed it off because he knew she was a big name now herself and had plenty of offers from which she could choose from. He was excited to work with her and simply see her again.

It was utter shock for him when she was the complete opposite of what he remembered. Okay, that might be an overstatement, but Harry could feel something was off instantly.

She was still bubbly and fun, but for some reason, she had a certain iciness and bitter attitude whenever her focus was on Harry. To anyone else it was unnoticable, Harry knows, because he asked Jeff about it.

“What are you talking about? She is awesome,” the manager said with a shrug and Harry tried to tell himself it was all in his head, because if Jeff doesn’t see it, it’s not real.

But it kept happening and it felt even stronger when it was just him and her in a room. Sometimes she even pretended like he wasn’t there, sometimes her snarky comments were all he got and they just strengthened him in his belief. 

He wanted to ask her about it, he tried, several times, but his attempts just bounced right off her icy behavior so eventually, he gave up and there was only one thing left for him to do.

Return what he was getting. 

Yes, it is childish, but he felt like he needed to deal with her unreasonable hatred towards him somehow and this was the easiest way. Was it a smart idea to practically become enemies when working together on his album? Of course not. But it just happened.

And going against each other became their thing. 

They were great in arguing, disagreeing even when they could easily compromise, riling each other up and lashing out on each other when the tension had been building up for hours. It got to the point where others started to notice that something was off between the two of them and when Jeff questioned Harry about it, he couldn’t give him a reasonable explanation.

“She started it,” he said and instantly felt like a kid, telling on his classmate at school. But this is all he could say, because he had no idea why she was acting this way. And he has to live with it while they work together.

Something is off. Harry knows it. Something about the melody… or the guitar… or is it the lyrics? He can’t tell, he has listened to the recording a million times so it all melts in his ears and he can’t identify what’s setting him off every time he hears it. 

“Why don’t we take a break?” Jack, the technician suggests, turning in his chair. “Y/N will be here in twenty, I’m sure she’ll–”

“Okay,” Harry snaps, just so he doesn’t finish. He knows what he wanted to say. 

She’ll know what’s wrong and will correct it in a second.

Y/N always knows what’s wrong and most of the time it’s a perk, of course it is, but today, Harry feels like it’s gonna make him want to crawl out of his body. Maybe it’s because he’s been in the studio for five hours and he got nowhere or maybe because Mitch will have his first ever solo gig tonight and Harry has been worried his fame or relation to him might ruin this experience for him. 

Either way, today he is just extra pissed by the fact that Y/N will be the one to solve this mystery. 

“I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he clears his throat, standing up from his seat. “Do you want one?” he offers, feeling a bit guilty he snapped at Jack.

“Uh, yeah, just an espresso is fine, thanks man.”

“Sure, I’ll be right back.”

Putting on his headphone, Harry jogs across the street to the tiny coffee shop he’s been a regular at. He likes the place because they are discreet and their coffee is just simply amazing, though they swear there’s nothing extra in it. 

He waits for the two coffees at the end of the counter and scrolls on his phone in the meantime. Emails, messages, there’s always something to answer to. He sends out a few replies before he ends up in his calendar. It’s neatly color coded and he takes pride in keeping it up-to-date all the time so he can always be on top of his game, no matter what. 

His eyes land on one particular date. Five weeks from now Y/N’s contract expires and if the five songs are done by then, she’ll be out of Harry’s life again. Seeing how the work is going, she’ll easily outdo that number so there won’t be any reason for talk about an extension. 

An unsettling feeling spreads in his stomach as he stares at the date but he doesn’t have time to figure it out because  he is snapped out of his thoughts when the two paper cups are placed in front of him. He is trying his best to keep a positive mindset as he returns to the studio’s building. With the two coffee cups in his hands he makes a right turn and then stops at the door, seeing Y/N sitting where he did previously, already listening to the recording with Jack with a critical expression on her face. 

Harry doesn’t interrupt them, just stays put and waits for her feedback. When she is done listening, she leans back in her seat.

“It’s the bass. Or more specifically the lack of it. Can you double it? Let’s see how it changes.”

Jack is quick to do as she asked and then he starts the song again and…

Harry wants to scream and laugh in bliss at the same time, because it’s perfect now. He’s mad he couldn’t spot such an obvious thing, but he is also happy it’s finally sorted out. It’s just a shame Y/N was the one to do it and not him. 

“Great, so this is done then,” he makes himself noticed as he walks into the studio and hands over one of the cups to Jack. 

When he looks at Y/N he can see that familiar, irritated look on her face that’s almost always there when he’s around. He hasn’t decided if he wants to physically wipe it off, or…

“Thanks for bringing one for me,” she comments in a bored tone, turning back towards the screen.

“You weren’t here when I went out.”

“But you knew I was coming.”

Harry opens his mouth, but then closes it, because this time she is kind of right. And it irks him even more today.

It’s gonna be a challenging session today, Harry thinks as he takes a seat.

It’s always exciting for Harry to be behind the stage when he’s not the star of the show. Kind of like a whole different world.

He hasn’t been here for long, but he’s been trying his best to stay as unnoticed as possible and let Mitch take the spotlight. Just a few minutes ago Sarah put him on Scout-duty which he gladly took up on, he’s always happy to spend time with the little guy. This time he is letting him explore freely and he’s just following him around to make sure he’s safe. Scout seemingly enjoys the adventure with uncle Harry, who doesn’t really pay attention where he is heading. 

That’s how they end up in the green room where Y/N is.

Y/N and Sarah have worked together a while ago, which is a random coincidence how they are connected outside of Harry. Because of their history, Y/N is often where they are, however she was never around when Sarah and Mitch were playing for Harry. 

Scout runs up to Y/N, arms in the air, asking to be picked up and Harry stops a few steps away from them when he realizes who he just found.

“Hey there, little guy! Are you all by yourself?” Y/N asks, settling the boy on her hip.

She’s changed since they parted ways in the studio. Harry has always admired her sense of style, which mostly consists of basic pieces, almost like a capsule wardrobe, but there’s always something extra, something vibrant on her that makes her sets interesting. Tonight she is wearing a simple black dress with a rather low back cut, simple heels, simple makeup, but she added a silky scarf with vivid colors and shapes around her neck that brings Harry’s attention to the curve of her neck and collarbones, almost as a cheeky invitation for his eyes to her naked skin. 

He has to fight the urge to touch her.

Despite the spiteful relationship they’ve been sporting lately, Harry had to deal with a rather unreasonable desire for Y/N in a physical way.

Unreasonable, because he never thought he could be attracted to someone who pisses him off so easily, yet there’s been plenty of occasions when Harry found himself imagining scenarios he could never admit to her, not when she hates him with such obvious passion.

Tonight it’s not just the outfit, but also the way she’s handling Scout. It’s not just women who find it incredibly hot when the opposite sex is great with kids, Harry can definitely feel something inside him moving as he watches Y/N sway from side to side with the little boy in his arms.

“Uncle Hazza is here!” Scout points at him, answering her previous question. Y/N looks up and because Harry was already looking at him, he catches a slipping moment where there’s no irritation on her face, but it returns quite fast when her gaze settles on him. 

“Ah, hi,” she says, lips pressed together as she nods, acknowledging his presence. 

“Hey. Long time no see.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it. Who says that? Why did he even say anything else other than hi? He smacks himself in his mind. 

Part of him expects her to say something like ‘not long enough’ but she just keeps quiet and turns all her attention to Scout. Harry feels out of place, he is supposed to be babysitting, but Y/N is taking care of Scout, Harry knows he is in good hands but Sarah asked him to watch over him. Should he leave? Or just keep standing there awkwardly?

“You can go, I’ll watch him,” Y/N says, as if she could read his mind. 

“You sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I can take care of him until Sarah is back.” Her reply is not just dry, kind of offended, nothing Harry wouldn’t expect from her, but it’s still irking him.

“I didn’t say you’re not capable, I just–”

“I’m not in the mood for this,” she cuts him off with an icy look. Harry is too stunned to reply, just watches Y/N walk away with Scout. 

He almost finds it amusing how easily she can piss him off, not many people have been able to do that, in fact, Harry thinks she does it the best. 

Clenching his jaw he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and then just lets it all go. 

The after party is always kind of Harry’s favorite. The stress is over, it’s just the relief and celebration that is left.

Mitch’s show went well, that’s what Harry expected, but it’s still great he was right. Seeing his friend be the star of the show was an experience he is glad he could be part of. Now that the core of the group has moved to a nearby bar, Harry has loosened up thanks to the couple of drinks he’s had. 

He’s been mostly sticking to the familiar faces he knows, rotating between the same few people  while enjoying how under the radar he is currently. 

The more drinks he has had, the less he’s been able to control where his gaze goes. To be exact, he’s been finding himself looking Y/N’s way the past hour or so. That damn dress and scarf, it’s like she’s put a spell on him that forces him to keep wanting to look at her. 

Harry is not experienced with feeling like this. Being attracted to someone who he hates, it’s such an ambivalent impulse, he can’t think straight. Or maybe it’s the amount of tequila he has drunk tonight, either way, it’s getting a rise out of him. 

From the corner of his eye he sees her slip out to the back where the smoking area is, he hesitates, shifts his weight from one leg to the other before making the leap and heading after her. He has no plan, no idea what he wants to ro will say to her, but he just feels like he has to talk to her.

Stepping out to the dimly lit back alley he is met with a few people scattered around, having a cigarette with drinks in hand, talking or scrolling on their phone and then he spots Y/N on the left, standing by the wall, cigarette in one hand, the remaining of her drink in the other as she stares ahead of her. 

She doesn’t smoke regularly, but she does enjoy one in certain social settings or when she’s had a few drinks. Harry knows it from years ago, because they shared a cigarette at a party, back then she seemed thrilled to spend time with him, he remembers all the conversations they had while working together, telling each other stories, sharing their plans, Harry truly thought they would remain good friends on this extraordinary journey, yet they ended up here.

As Harry walks towards her, she notices him and he sees her lips twitch in annoyance. 

“Care if I join?” he asks and she just shrugs without a word, avoiding to look at him. 

They stand there in silence for a while, she is lazily puffing the smoke out from time to time.

“Is it still just an occasional thing?” he tries to strike up a conversation.

“Mhm,” is all he gets as a reply.

“Have you tried to put it down fully?”

“Why are you doing this?” she snaps at him, finally looking his way. 

“What?”

“Why are you trying to chit-chat when we both know we don’t do that?”

“And why don’t we?” He challenges her. “Tell me why we are like this in the first place, because I have no idea.”

She stares at him for long moments and he awaits her answer like nothing before, but then she shakes her head and turns to the pin beside her, puts the cigarette out and flicks it into the bin. Then, without another word she is already heading back inside.

It takes a moment for Harry to start moving again, but he is quick to catch up with her in the hall that leads to the restrooms. 

“Y/N, give me a fucking answer!” he demands, grabbing her wrist to pull her back before she could escape, but she shakes his hand off as she comes to a stop, turning towards him.

“I owe you nothing!” she hisses at him. “I owe you no one, but especially you!”

“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?! I never thought you owe me anything!”

“I’m not doing this, Harry, leave me the fuck alone,” she growls and tries to leave, but Harry pulls her back again, determined to get an answer this time. 

“Don’t think I will just swallow everything down forever. I will get to the bottom of this, whether you like it or not. It’s your choice if you make it hard on both of us.”

She is looking back at him with wide eyes, this time his hand remains on her arm as they stare each other down in the empty hallway. Neither of them knows what will be their next move, the tension is so thick, it’s almost suffocating.

But then it all changes.

If someone asked who moved first, they wouldn’t know. One moment they are standing like stone statues, barely even breathing, then the next moment they are kissing like there’s no tomorrow.

It doesn’t take long until Harry has her pressed up against the wall, his hands roaming her body, feeling her up the way he fantasized about before, they are both rough and impatient, she is clawing at him, moaning into his mouth when his hips press against hers and she feels how hard he’s gotten already. 

Blindly, Harry pushes the closest door open which happens to be the staff’s bathroom that someone left unlocked, lucky for them. Still glued together they stumble inside, Y/N kicks the door open before Harry pushes her against it and he locks it before his hand returns to her tempting body. 

He has never acted like this when it comes to sex. He does like to spice things up sometimes, but the way he’s biting her lips or unbuttoning his pants or reaches under her dress to pull her underwear down is just so out of character for him, yet so freeing. 

Nothing is said, but when her hands pull his hard, leaking dick out of his pants, there’s a fleeting look they exchange that says it all, just how much they both want it. 

It’s the fastest pace he’s ever experienced, yet the most passionate too. They moan at the same time when Harry pushes into her and starts moving in a rush, desperate for relief. She’s panting and whining for more, the only form of speaking she is able to as she holds onto Harry who is focused on keeping up his quick and steady pace while holding her left leg up to ensure the perfect angle. 

The animalistic need is there for them both, making them act like this is what they must do to stay alive. It’s messy, fast and mind-blowing and they don’t need much time to reach the peak. As she comes her nails dig into her shoulder and she bites into his bottom lip so harshly it draws blood, but he doesn’t care, only follows her into bliss just a second later. With the last bit of his consciousness Harry pulls out right before he comes, covering her thigh with the white, sticky evidence of just how much he enjoyed the past minutes. 

They are breathing heavily and Harry feels like a thick haze is still lingering around his head, stopping him from realizing what just happened. Y/N however is ahead of him and when reality comes crashing down on her, her instinct to flee kicks right in. Harry is still trying to clear his mind when she grabs a paper towel and cleans herself up as fast as possible and Harry only snaps out of his trance when she is already unlocking the door.

“Y/N, what the— wait!” He can’t go after her as she slips out of the room because he is still pretty indecent, so he has to pull his pants up and can only rush out then, but by that time she is already gone.

He’s quite frantic as he tries to find her in the bar, but she is nowhere to be seen. Harry returns to the rest of their group, hoping to catch her somewhere but she has vanished into thin air. 

“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” he asks Mitch, his eyes still roaming the place.

“Nah, haven’t seen her since she went out to smoke.”

Harry groans and makes his way outside, maybe she’s there waiting for a car, but as he steps out to the street he sees no trace of her. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he doesn’t hesitate before dialing her number. The line rings once, twice and then… it goes to voicemail.

“Hey, this is Y/N. Do whatever you want after the beep.”

“Fuck!” Harry ends the call and he has to stop himself from throwing it against the nearest wall. 

This is not how he planned. Well, he didn’t plan any of it, especially not fucking Y/N like a horny teenager. He wanted to solve this whole issue between the two of them but instead he just created another one.

A stupid, giant one. 

NEXT PART

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[weepingwillowwonder]

Imagines Alastor x AFAB!Reader [MDNI 18+ ONLY]

CW: Period sex, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Needy!Alastor,

Imagine on a rare occasion that Alastor fully takes you and both of you are completely lost in pleasure. Under normal circumstances, convincing Alastor to bed you was…difficult to say the least. It was not often that the mood struck him enough to act on his wandering thoughts, and if he did, it was more so your reactions that he looked forward to, not exactly his own pleasure.

As his partner, you knew this fact very well and respected his boundaries towards the matter, following his lead despite your own yearnings. And of course he knew you wanted him, with how your eyes would roam his body when you didn’t think he was looking, how you’d shift with your thighs pressed together when he spoke sweetly to you, or even how you’d fuck yourself silly when he wasn’t around, his name like a mantra falling from your lips. Ah yes, he knew, you wanted him. Besides, he could smell you, though you didn’t need to know that.

Despite his lack of a libido, he understood you had needs and like any decent partner, he tried his best to make sure those needs were met. Sometimes this involved his own pleasure as well, more often it did not, with his focus purely on satisfying your cravings. So when you approach Alastor one day, shamelessly begging him to bed you, something about the situation compels him to indulge you in ways he normally wouldn't.

He guides you to your shared bed and makes quick work of your clothes, lips crashing into each other in a heated embrace all the while. His fingers quickly find themselves between your legs, impatiently working you open for him to take you. It’s almost as if he can’t get enough of you right now, drinking in your needy sounds as he fingers you deeply. Your body arches up to press against his and he adds another finger, marveling at how impossibly wet you are for him right now.

You can't put a finger on it, but something has Alastor particularly worked up and you can feel it in the rough way his fingers piston inside of you, curling just right to pull out your sweetest sounds. His lips don’t leave yours the entire time, even as he pulls his dripping fingers from you and immediately guides himself to your entrance. He fumbles to sheath himself inside of you when the tip of his cock catches the rim of your hole and a low moan leaves him when he finally sinks inside.

The feeling is almost akin to primal as he takes you, hips knocking into yours fast and hard, exactly the way you asked for and how you both knew you needed him. Tears continually fall down your face as you beg for more in incoherent babbles. 

Something about the situation lights his body up in an unexpectedly rare way, one that only certain circumstances tend to bring about. His sense of self control grows muddy as he continues to lose himself in your unbearably wet heat. He knew you needed him, could feel you leaking along his cock as your cunt milked him for all he was worth. And in a strangely familiar way, he felt as if he needed you, needed this. Your cries, your touch, your scent, everything about this moment of you intimacy had him feeling high, almost feral, and he only continued his brutal pace.

When he finally detaches from you, you both catch the trail of saliva that connects you and the heated gaze from the other. Your eyes glaze over as you’re pushed past overstimulation, and reach up to set a hand on his arm gripping your hips for dear life. His eyes follow your hand and hone in on the dark colored fluids smeared along his lower body. Alastor’s hips slow to a still as he processes what’s happening.

“O-oh..oh my gosh…I think I…I think I just started my period.” You mumble out, halfway sitting up to look between your legs with wide eyes. “I’m so-, oh my gosh…” Alastor eyes trail down between your legs to find a darker liquid coming from you, instead of the normal color of your arousal. For a moment, he can only hear the rapid sound of his heart beating. He’d been so distracted by his sudden excitement that he didn’t bother to consider why he was riled up more than usual. It wasn't a newly sudden interest in sex that caused this. He could smell you.

He hadn’t been paying close enough attention to see that you had been spotting when he stripped you down, nor when he felt like he couldn’t get enough of you. He could smell you bleeding the whole time and in that moment he felt like he was harder than he’d ever been.

“Fuck.” The growl that comes from his lips makes you gasp in misplaced fear of him being angry. As you begin to apologize yet again, he yanks himself from you and immediately drags your bottom half to his mouth. A yelp comes from you initially as you’re practically folded in half, then a high pitch moan as Alastor messily begins eating you out. His head is filled with nothing but the need to have you as his eyes fall closed and his tongue searches further inside of you. Your hand comes to bury itself in his hair as he frantically laps along your core, giving you no time to catch your breath.

“Alastor! Alastor please! I can’t, I can’t…! No, no, no, no!” You cry out as an orgasm crashes through you, roughly tugging on his locks in an attempt to pull him away. A threatening growl vibrates against your cunt and you hear the distant sound of static as Alastor’s fingers seem to sink deeper into the skin of your hips. You’re unable to do anything but lay there as he brings you close to the edge again, cries completely ignored as he focuses only on tasting more of you.

When he finally gets his fill and pulls away with a groan, he lowers your body back on the bed and comes up to nuzzle your neck. You weakly call out his name, and cling to him as the weight of his body comes to rest upon yours. As your body starts to relax, you let out a sudden gasp as you feel Alastor’s hardened member dragging along your thigh.

“Oh darling, you’ll indulge me won’t you?” His breath comes out in pants as his fingers dig into the already bruised areas of your hips. His lips hover just above your ear as his antlers begin to grow from on top of his head. “Just one more little taste…”

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬 || 𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ you are the girl who does the makeup effects for the society of the snow and you fall for el pendejo de Enzo (no te creas, papi tkm💋). But you start avoiding him because it’s not correct to fall in love with someone like him.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ AGE GAP (I’m turning 20 in March, let me live my fantasy), angst, fluff, Spanglish fic (I’m Mexican American, I know what I’m writing), reader is in denial and speaks Spanish, idk misunderstandings?, happy ending (irl Enzo nunca nos va a pelar)😭

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ I hate Spanglish but how can I keep both mi gente latino and my RAHHH🦅🇺🇸 people happy? With a Spanglish fic. I let go all my frustrations y lo ardida que estoy con cierto uruguayo.

♪ ♫ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝟒 𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 ✰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱

@kissmemucho on X // @_hannia.k on instagram

—————————————————————————

One day, you started hating going to work. It was half work, half practice for college. Still, you started hating it. From moving some months to Spain to work on the makeup team for a movie, to spending hours with each actor to do their makeup.

That wasn’t the issue though. It was just that… uh… gosh.

You had developed a crush for that man called Enzo. It was so cringe to admit. And it tore apart you because he was significantly older than you. He would never turn to look down at you. That was the most honest thing about the whole thing. Only that you were even depriving yourself from being his friend.

But god, his pretty nose and deep eyes. His soft hair and perfect smile. The way he was so kind to everyone and to you. Soon you learned he was single too. It was so damn much that it made you so mad. He was perfect. Gorgeous in every sense.

And that’s exactly why you now hate going to work.

Sometimes the aura around the team seemed to be heavy due to the context of the movie. You had seen how every actor started to lose weight and prepare for the role. Which was a little tough. Anyways, everyone in the cast believed you were a burst of sunshine at least. Who seemed to make the hours spent seated on a chair with makeup and prosthetics being placed a little more fair.

“¡HEY!…GUAPA, VENÍ PARA ACÁ!” You heard as soon as you entered the workplace. Once you spotted the little circle of boys, you rolled your eyes and giggled.

“¿Y ahora qué se te ofrece Juani?”

“Que confirmes si vienes a cenar con todos” you looked at the others. Matías and the others were exchanging looks, with none other than Enzo. You don’t even look at the man, you can only focus on the boy with annoying blue eyes.

“Cómo jodes, chico. Ya veré si voy o no, tengo mucho que hacer” that was true, you had a lot to do. But mostly, it was because you believed you had nothing amazing to share with them.

“Podemos esperarte.” Enzo said, which immediately made your stomach flutter and your chest to get congested. He was wearing some t-shirt and those damn Adidas joggers he liked to repeat on a daily basis.

The fact that he suggested waiting for you to go out and have dinner should’ve made you blush, but it only made you nervous, increasing your eagerness to run away from the little circle of men.

“No pasa nada, váyanse ustedes. Que se la pasen bien…” and poor Enzo, he watched how you disappeared through the hallways with your big bag full of makeup and brushes.

“Ya va a caer…”

“Pero ni me gusta” everyone giggled. Enzo knew you were younger, of age, but younger. He also knew you were from a little too far away from Uruguay, that you were bilingual, that you were passionate about writing and other arts, that your eyes were lighter than expected in the sun, that your hands were very soft and that you were so extroverted with everyone except with him.

“Sos idiota, si no te gustara no te hubieras quedado como mogólico viéndola irse”

“Pero es una niña…” he tried to reason.

“La veinteañera universitaria que trabaja aquí en producción y anda sola por la vida” everyone laughed again. You were certainly an adult. Yeah you still acquired toys, listened to silly music and watched Barbie or Bratz movies. But you were legally an adult.

Which led Enzo wondering if he could ever have a chance with you. You had seen a lot of people, with how many times you had travelled to Los Angeles, the heart of Hollywood and everything, sometimes he doubted you could be interested in him.

But no… he definitely hadn’t caught an eye on you.

…

It was a Friday. A week from the day you rejected dinner with your workmates. Nothing serious happened after that. Juani made fun and exposed you with random tweets like a bully. He was laughing his ass off of you, so shameless and stupid. However, you on the other hand… were dying out of embarrassment. Especially after seeing how many people started following him. Then gifting him with an army of girls starving for shitpost around the internet.

“Si no estuvieras por grabar una escena tan desgarradora, te ahorcaba en este preciso momento, Juani '' you wanted to kill him. He had posted online two videos of you dancing like the proudest stripper, a picture of you rolling your eyes that looked extremely silly and dorky. Two audios of you cursing in Spanish and saying how much you hated capitalism. And he even made his own stickers of you to pass around the group chat of the cast.

“Eso te pasa por ¡RIDÍCULA!” The tone he used, extremely mocking you was enough to make you laugh along with him and caught the attention of everyone surrounding you two.

“Pues nunca te conseguiré el follow de los ex-One Direction” he stopped laughing, knowing you had made him remember his humbling twitter posts.

“¡Qué boluda… y pesada!”

“Okay, pinche ardido” one of the design team members from the movie appeared and handed you a little paper. It was the list of your schedule. Juani snatched it and opened it before you could even blink.

“UYYY… te toca todo el día con Enzo” he started teasing you like a child. You rolled your eyes in annoyance.

“Pero la boluda y pesada soy yo”

“Pues si” you finally read the paper and yes… 3 hours with Enzo.

“Well… it could be worse” you admitted sighing, accepting that you would spend three hours swallowing your pride and pierced feelings.

“Dejáte querer…” you frowned confused at the boy beside you.

“What?” You asked laughing, but he only shrugged.

“Nothing, dear” once again, you rolled your eyes.

“De verdad eres medio insoportable” he batted his ears, acting innocent. Deep down, both of you were actually friends.

“Te quiero” he responded, making you laugh once again.

“Si, yo también. Mi pendejito favorito”

“No, ese debe ser Enzo” this time, you blushed.

“Como chingas con meterlo en nuestras conversaciones. ¿Te gusta o qué?” He laughed, helping you out with your heavy bag full of brushes and capes and everything.

“No. ¿Y a vos? ¿Gustas de Enzo?” You remained quiet, pretending you hadn’t heard him.

You opened the door of the little room, surprised to see Enzo already there. So you grabbed the bag from Juani and started closing the door.

“Adios, naco perdedor” and just like that, you closed the door on his face.

You sighed, closing your eyes, before staring at the plain door for some seconds.

“Hola…” you heard his deep and sweet voice. It was just… that you had to be a big girl and leave aside your foolishness for that grown ass man. He was just a crush… a simple mortal at the end.

“Hi…” you replied awkwardly. You had seen the following section of his instagram, the most pretty girls, very different from you. Which made you feel… like it was auto-sabotage. But before you could start feeling depressed again. You decided to keep working, the only reason why you were in that room in the first place.

He would think you kinda disliked him. Every time you entered to work on his makeup, he would be smiling and trying to talk to you. And while you were polite and smiley too, you remained very quiet, always avoiding his cute eyes.

“¿Cómo estás?” He would ask, looking at you through the mirror in the room.

“Pues muy bien, gracias.” You would reply, turning to open the boxes with prosthetics and other special effects makeup. And he sighed, already feeling a little disappointed.

“¿Me permites tus manos?” You ask him. He shows you the palm of his hands with another smile, which you reply quickly. Your heart started pounding as soon as he walked into the room.

“Perdón si estoy fría.” You admit with a blush, knowing the tips of your fingers were freezing.

“No pasa nada, linda” he had to be joking. He couldn’t call you “linda” just like that? However, you do your best to ignore it.

So you start making little lines of the paint samples you had taken. Until you noticed which one was identical to his skin.

“Okay, I got it.” You speak to yourself, out loud though. Sometimes Enzo questioned if you weren’t fluid in Spanish, but he had heard you talk and talk with other people in Spanish. Your accent was so clean, so different to the rest of the crew.

“¿Te molesta si pongo música?” You ask him, grabbing your phone.

“No, para nada.”

“Nomás no me vayas a juzgar” you giggle without looking at him, scrolling through your playlist.

It was the first time you attempted to joke with him. And he wouldn’t risk the opportunity.

“Jamás podría…” you only thank him before starting to play some music.

He was used to your touch now. You had small and soft hands compared to him. Every time you had to pick the right tone that matched his skin, brush his hair and work inches away from his face. It was insufferable for you. And to him… it only built more intrigue.

He listens to how you barely mumble some songs.

“¿Quién es ella?” He asks at the song.

“Nelly Furtado” you reply, concentrating on his hands, starting to draw the fake wounds. Promiscuous was a great song to feel empowered while trying to beat the feelings for the man who was extremely close to you.

Some minutes passed and then Madonna came with Dress You Up and Enzo barely got it right. You sing very low and he tries to hear you with precision.

“¿Y esta?” You ask him when gorgeous started.

and God, that damn song was like a curse and blessing at that very moment.

You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much

(I hate you so much)

You've ruined my life, by not being mine

You're so gorgeous

I can’t say anything to your face

'Cause look at your face

And I'm so furious

At you for making me feel this way

That was you. That was how much you hated your feelings for him. Because he would never be yours.

And somehow, Enzo got the message. He wasn’t sure but he felt how you changed the way of singing and avoided his eyes.

“¿Y esa quién es?” He asked once again.

“Esa es Taylor Swift”

“No la conozco” you giggle, ignoring the song a little bit.

“¡Enzo, por Dios!. ¿En qué mundo vives?” You found it very hard to believe he didn’t know half of your musical taste.

“Pues en Uruguay…” for the first time, he makes you laugh and talks to you so fucking much that you have to stop spreading the fake dirt on his face.

You're gorgeous

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad

There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

You are so gorgeous, it makes me so mad

You’re so gorgeous

“¿Por qué nunca sales con nosotros?” He asks suddenly, and it takes you aback. That you end up looking straight at his face.

“Tú tampoco sales, prefieres quedarte en el cerro” he laughs, feeling a little too comfortable under your touch on his cheeks and chin.

“He salido dos veces con ellos. ¿Y vos? Cero…”

“Estoy ocupada.” You simply reply.

“No es cierto. Por ahí me dijeron que te la pasas viendo películas y escribiendo fanfiction” you blush, but you keep working.

Actually, last Saturday was the first weekend you cried because of him. You couldn’t even stay at a local bar. You left your friends there to go home. New addition to your routine.

“Maybe… ¿pero a ti qué si no voy?” You ask giggling, hoping he would drop the issue. You pause the music and slip your phone inside your bag before returning to him. Scared of his possible answer.

“Pues… porque te quiero ver” your hands start shaking.

“¿A mí?”

“Si. A ti, linda” he senses how taken aback you are. And he realized, that he had adapted some of your slang words from all the time he spent with you.

“¿Por qué yo, Enzo?” He smiles, and you want to kill him. He made the gesture like you had been so oblivious for ages.

“Porque…” slowly, he grabbed your wrist, preventing you from keeping working on his face. He touches you with such gentleness that it makes you finally start shaking.

The way he looks at you. It must’ve been a dream, two pairs of eyes deeply connected. He was silently revealing he liked you. Once you get it, you shake your head, his eyes giving you some confirmation.

“No..” You brush away from him.

“Si… tal vez suene raro o no me creas… pero, vos me gustas. Por eso quiero verte y busco tus bonitos ojos cada vez que trabajas conmigo…” you sigh, dropping the brush and paint a little too violent.

“¿Y por qué yo entre tantas diosas que están a tus pies?” You are fighting against the tears already forming on your eyes. He remains quiet, and to you… that’s an answer.

He doesn’t like the way you are being too negative. But you don’t like having that conversation at all. You are shocked, and you don’t feel in love at that moment. You feel panic and stress.

“Fui al bar el sábado pasado y te vi con la chica rubia. Si te gusta alguien no dejas a la chica rubia hacer ni un movimiento. No te encuentras en redes a las chicas a las que les das reacciones” maybe you had no right to be so angered. But it had been two months, and everything had worsened. At that point, your eyes were already red and crystallized.

“Nada de eso significó algo”

“Si fue algo. Fue tu cuarteada en lo que buscabas la manera de acercarte a mí. Por si no te resultaba la cosa conmigo…” again, he remains quiet.

“This is bullshit. Mira Enzo, he estado aquí desde hace dos meses y nunca te acercaste. No te salió el amor por mí hoy” you spit with anger, grabbing your paint and makeup, hurrying to get out of there.

“Me has gustado desde la primera semana cuando te conocí. Pero tú no me quieres, y por eso te evado. Aparte del dilema de nuestra age gap, que podría ser un problema” you explain putting your coat on and grabbing the bag.

“Y eres una persona hermosa, Enzo. Sé que eres el amigo y novio perfecto. Pero mi intuición me dice que me vas a lastimar” he steps between you and the door. The proximity worsens everything, he wants to end it all for once with a kiss to make you feel the way he does.

It was already difficult for him. He had felt slightly depressed while filming, he felt weird, in company but alone at the same time. And he believed you were the right burst of sunshine to lighten his weird mood swings.

But you believed he was lying. He honestly felt hurt that you were mistaking him for some womaniser and asshole.

“No te vayas, por favor” he pleaded, shocked to see your teary eyes. So he started questioning what you said about being hurt.

“Ya acabamos, no te preocupes.” You manage to slip beside him, opening the door and leaving him alone.

The dramatic moment culminated in Enzo feeling more depressed and giving a sadder performance for the movie. For you, it gave you a reason to cry in the shower and stare at the balcony of your place for hours, contemplating the sky and feeling so damn weird.

…

You have flashbacks of seeing him laughing and letting the blonde girl at the bar whisper in his ear. His honest smile and how he admitted he liked you a day ago.

You wished for weeks, now months that he confessed his feelings for you. But the moment he does, it feels wrong. Like it wasn’t meant to happen. Because he’s older, he’s got more experience, he had a very extended long-term girlfriend once, he is too much unlike you.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to happen and this is how it was supposed to end.

With you bursting out in tears and anger. Him believing you were crazy, but you had a point.

He never made a move. Just trying to talk, but he never invited you to do anything with him, or just to stay with him during the free days. It seemed unreal that suddenly he liked you.

And maybe you’re just scared of falling in love, because he could unintentionally but potentially break your heart.

Nonetheless, on the second day you want to distract yourself, it’s Saturday again and you go out alone to jog, then to buy some new clothes and you are about to prepare your dinner when the pain in the ass of Juani asks you to go out for some tapas.

You agree because you really need to distract yourself from thinking about the whole cringy issue with Enzo.

Probably everyone in the production already knew. But you would shut your mouth just to let the rumours die.

You start your walk towards the restaurant when he sends you the location. It’s a few blocks away, and you frown when you see what type of restaurant it is.

“amiguito, pero creí que querías tapas. Este es un restaurante vegano” you send him a voice message. And he replies immediately.

“Ay pues para ser fitness un día nada más, chica. ¿Ya vas para allá?” You roll your eyes, not that you didn’t like vegan food but you wanted tapas.

“Si, morro meco. Ya estoy a un par de cuadras” you send back, putting on your EarPods and route.

You realise how much you like wearing sneakers, long dresses and coats with matching purses. Perfect for the weather and your silly thoughts of walking on the streets along some cool music playing in the background.

Until you arrive at the restaurant and you don’t spot Juani. But maybe he was on his way. So you order first, grilled tofu with vegetables and tangy sauce.

It’s a cute place, and by the time you find a table, it’s already dark. The restaurant has candles everywhere and quality music playing.

When you start closing your purse, you look up and you freeze. Because you see Enzo entering the place, with a tiny bouquet of flowers on his right hand and a water bottle on the other.

He was wearing jeans, a random buttoned shirt and dark sunglasses.

Oh, fuck him. Of course he knew he looked gorgeous.

Quickly you change from your seat, giving your back to him, hopefully becoming invisible.

Your fingers rush to find the contact of Juani and send him a violent voice message.

“Oye, ¿por qué carajo no has llegado? ¿Y por qué Enzo Vogrincic está viendo el menú ahora mismo?” You send and he starts writing.

“Es que él es vegano…” he writes in text, which boils your blood.

“¿Y eso a mí qué chingados me importa, Juani? Ven ya y sácame a escondidas o te juro que me voy a colgar del primer poste de luz que vea” you silently scream, lowering your voice.

“No puedo” that’s it, you’re going to die in a vegan restaurant while Enzo Vogrincic orders food.

You are about to stand up when he literally appears on your table.

Qué hijo de puta, y todavía te sonríe y todo.

“¿Y el Juani ya viene o no?” You ask, trying to sound confident.

“De hecho no va a venir” right, pinche Juani idiota, qué gran amigo y todo.

“That’s it. I’m leaving!” You mumble sighing, standing up from the table, when Enzo grabs your forearm and makes you sit again.

“No, vos te quedas. Mira, te traje estas” he hands you the flowers, yellow tulips.

“Yo nunca le he dicho a Juani… ni a Matías cuáles son mis flores favoritas” you frown confused, grabbing them.

They’re beautiful.

“Tuve que buscar por mi cuenta” he admits, and you frown deeper. Until you open your eyes in shock.

“¿Me zorreraste mi Instagram?” Enzo starts laughing, and you blush. He takes a seat and drops the receipt of his order on the table. You read it, chickpea pasta with arrabiata sauce and zucchini.

You read his order just to avoid looking at his eyes.

“Dejáme explicar todo…” slowly, you look at him. You are still on time to ask for the food to be to go, you can leave and just let this strange issue wash away.

But a waitress appears with your tofu and the pasta. You awkwardly smile and say thank you as well as Enzo.

“Pues ya que…” he smiles, thinking your eyeliner was so perfect. Your dress was cute and the coat made you look elegant and fine.

“Vos sabes quién te engañó. Le pedí que te hiciera venir a un lugar para encontrarme” your roll your eyes. Unbelievable how childish was the whole situation.

“Yo quería tapas”

“Dale, ahorita te llevo por tapas” Enzo says with a giggle. You simply mock him with a gesture and proceed to eat.

“Lamento no haberte dado señales desde el inicio. Creí que con hacerle plática cuando me maquillabas era suficiente.” He confesses.

“Con todos sos un amor. Y conmigo… siempre seria y pues… llegué a pesar que no te agradaba” you shrug, eyebrows rising and avoiding his eyes once again.

“Todo lo contrario…” you admit.

“Ya veo. Entonces hace unas semanas, los chicos empezaron a sacar el tema. Que debía invitarte a salir o hacerte venir con nosotros a comer para ahí verte”

“Y ayer me atreví. Pero temo que tu reacción no fue la que buscaba” he says with many pauses, not wanting to disturb you.

“Tú declaración tampoco fue lo que esperaba.” He nods, calming you.

“Ya lo sé, hubiera sido mejor esperar a estar en un lugar… como este”

“Quizá” you reason with him.

“Incluso desde antes de admitir que vos me gustas, no me he visto con nadie. Así que solo sos tú… nadie más” you nod, looking back at the tulips.

“Están preciosas, gracias” you say lifting the boquete. Enzo smiles. So you know it’s time, you sigh.

“Yo también lo siento por juzgarte sin saber. No tenía derecho de ponerme celosa, ni nada. Es solo que me da miedo dejar que esto, fluya…” you say, not wanting to repeat once again that your intuition said he would break your heart.

“No te voy a lastimar, nunca. Dejáme quererte, linda. Por favor….” he pleads, accepting he was nervous and desperate. He really longed for someone in the upside down moments of his days.

“Yo solo quiero sentir lealtad, confianza, pasión y seguridad. ¿Me puedes dar eso?”

“Te voy a dar todo, pero más lo que vos quieras. Y si lealtad, confianza, pasión y seguridad es lo que querés…. Así será, linda” you smile, finding his hand on top of the table, intertwining your fingers with him.

“Entonces todo bien, lindo” he smiles more, ending in a sweet laugh.

He helps you pick the rest of the food, both of you also order ice cream cones. Him with chocolate and you with pistachios. And soon both of you are walking together in the streets. Spring is near and it’s your favourite season. You feel happy feeling his warm touch outside of the job. And now being inches away from him feels like a new home.

“¿Si vamos a ir por las tapas?” He starts laughing again, and when he leans, you can feel what’s coming.

“Te voy a besar…” he warns before grabbing your cheeks and smashing his lips with yours.

“Te quiero” he spills, and you only smile on his lips, deepening the kiss. Feeling the silly butterflies in your stomach and intense tears of happiness. You almost drop your cone due to that.

“Yo también te quiero” you reply, swiftly bumping your forehead with him. He then takes your hand and suddenly you don’t feel wrong about it.

Now it feels perfect. Like destiny changed and finally it was meant to be.

____________________

update junio 2024: JAJSJDJJDDJ QUÉ MAMADAS ESCRIBÍA EN ENERO. LOL, QUÉ MAL, ENZO AÚN TE QUIERO MUCHÍSIMOOOO🩷

[yandere-romanticaa]

I feel like I'm 15 again. Todoroki was my first BNHA love, it's only fair that he gets a little something.

Shoto, who has had his eye on you ever since his UA days. He was enrolled in the hero course while you were in the general course, leading a completely separate life from his own. You had your own interests, hobbies, friends.

It was so beautiful to admire, from a safe distance of course.

Shoto was aware of his popularity amongst the student body due to his powerful quirk and impeccable grades. Whenever he would walk down the hall to class the murmurs of hundreds of students would follow, their beady and curious eyes either glaring daggers of envy or were in absolute awe of him.

Either way, he did not care, not for any single one of them. He was never too keen to call the people around him "extras" in the same way Bakugo did but whenever he would catch sight of you in the hall, every single possible distraction really did become a hassle. His cool mask was always under the dangerous threat of melting at the mere sight of you, it would even triple if you talked to, or if God was feeling merciful, accidentally touch him. His mask of indifference would slip for a brief second, dual eyes widening in shock as he would get a whiff of your perfume and would curse the fact that there were so many people around.

If he could die with his nose buried in your neck, it would be the sweetest way to go.

Shoto would become paranoid of the thought of being discovered. Sometimes, just sometimes when he was feeling just a little bit bolder than usual, he would press himself just ever so closer to you in the cramped hall and would take in every nook and cranny he possibly could. The average student would think nothing of this as he was probably just in a rush to get to class. He would also always apologize politely, Shoto would even try giving you a sweet smile while doing so.

However. The people who knew Shoto were not your average students.

Bakugo was not known for his subtlety and that legacy still lives on. On a Friday evening when the last bell had rung and the classroom was empty, the hotheaded lad trapped Shoto in a corner.

"Just say how you feel dumbass." Bakugo had said, his gruff tone slightly quieter than usual.

At least he had enough grace to not be a complete jackass.

With his eyes closed and lips pressed in a thin line Shoto had shook his head in defiance. Bakugo made the entire situation sound so easy, as if Shoto could just walk up to you and ask to hang out. You were a kind person and would most likely say yes, but Shoto was not so sure if you could handle the sheer intensity of his feelings. This, whatever this was, was all consuming, it left Shoto feeling breathless and restless, for who knows how long. You made him lose focus but you also made him so much stronger at the same time. He would space out in class a bit too often for comfort, which lead to Aizawa scolding him until the tips of his ears turned red.

This was so much more than a simple crush.

Bakugo shrugged his shoulders and exited the classroom. "Whatever you say icy hot. Just don't start crying if things don't go down the way you want them to."

Time passes, you all graduate. Shoto still pines helplessly from a distance but he has gotten just a little bit closer to you. Sometimes you meet up and hang out, he could always feel the tips of his fingers twitching in anticipation, eager to hold you but he kept his distance.

He didn't want to scare you off.

Even more time has passed and Shoto is a professional hero now. He is an honest worker and has built up a strong reputation. Everyone wants to be him or be with him.

But he still wants you.

Even after all these years, he still longs for your touch. He longs to be the only man in your life, the one you come home to.

Shoto watches you from his office window, his eyes glued to you and the person you were so lovingly fondling over. He grits his teeth and clenches his fist so tight that his knuckles turn white as snow.

That should be him down there. He should be the one who gets to hold you, touch you, kiss you.

It should be Shoto Todoroki who you love. Not whoever that extra is. He swiftly turns his gaze away from the window, a sick amusement coming over him. "Extra" really was a fitting term for whoever was down there.

Shoto should have listened to Bakugo all those years ago. He should have listened to him. He may be a cocky loudmouth but he was right and you had slipped right away from him.

Finally, it was time to take matters into his own two hands. He was done longing and lingering in the shadows. He wasn't too keen on manipulating the hero system he swore to protect but damn it all. It had to be done.

Killing your little lover was so easy, it came to him like breathing. The beauty of his quirk that it was so versatile, he could come up with so many creative ways into disposing that pesky thorn in his side. Hot flames and horrid ice marred the flesh of your little lover but Shoto was clever. Oh yes, Shoto was indeed so clever as he made sure to keep the physical torture to the minimum, just in case someone decided to get smart and start suspecting him.

Besides, it was so much more impactful to gloat over his victory. He was the one who was going to take care of you for the rest of your days together.

Not even death could tear you away from him.

Shoto watched the life being snuffed away from the poor sucker as he cried and spat out pools of sweat and blood. There were no heroes here that could help him, not a single soul was in sight.

He was completely in Shoto's mercy. And he was not going to give him a single drop of it.

The pro hero tossed the lifeless body aside and hid it sloppily, because he knew that you would be worried, that people would come looking. He cleaned up the scene of the crime and secured himself an alibi, just to be safe.

Shoto started walking towards his office but the adrenaline of the encounter still pumped in his veins, his mind was all over the place.

And your face was front and center.

Instead of his original plan of waiting it out, Shoto made the hasty decision to just.... Take you. He had waited for years, and years and years. He would be gentle, naturally.

And with time, he was positive that you would come to appreciate him.

And just like that, he was at your front door, ringing the doorbell like crazy. You opened the door in a worried frenzy, dressed in your comfortable pj's which Shoto just adored.

Suddenly, he had pushed you inside of your apartment and closed the door with his foot, freezing it ever so slightly with his quirk. He pinned you to the ground, both of your arms in a single tight grip as the other ever so gently caressed your face. His gaze was wild but focused, so utterly lovesick that there wasn't a single word which could describe the range of emotions he was feeling.

Finally, after all these years Shoto had you where he wanted you. And there was nothing that could change that.

[cannellee]

HUNTER X HUNTER OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ yandere! alpha! kurapika x omega! reader

— how does he take care of his omega ?

cw : yandere, controlling behaviour, red flags, etc.

I had this sitting in my drafts for a while now... so here it is! just like for naruto and the seven deadly sins, I'll accept requests about hxh (but my main focus will still be about tokyorev!)

MY MASTERLIST: ☆

kurapika is a kind and reassuring alpha. he wants his omega to feel the safest when she's with him, to appear as flawless as possible to make her feel sheltered and in good hands.

you don't doubt him at first, kurapika is always smiling brightly. his polite smiles soothes any worry you might have as if he had everything and everyone under control.

he might manipulate you into thinking you're imagining things if you ever get suspicious of him. he's cautious, very careful about what he does and what he says in front of you. nothing would shatter his world more than see his omega wary of him. that would mean that he failed his task at shielding you from anything unpleasant and his thoughts would torture him if it ever had to happen.

kurapika is overly worried about you, you're so frail and innocent, and he knows how mean and scary the world is, especially for sweet omegas like you... which is why he got his hunter licence. kurapika had to be better, to improve himself so much to the point that no harm could be done to you.

kurapika hates unnecessary violence. you often tell him that he's kind and benevolent and that's why you love him so much. he does feel guilty about how brutally he murders all those people who had bad intentions towards you, he's afraid you'll look at him differently if you were to learn about it, but it had to be done. he would never let anything scary come close to you, he's especially vigilant that he's aware how of horribly people are able to treat soft beings like you. he has witnessed it first hand and he dreads the thought of not being capable of protecting you well enough and seeing you hurt.

kurapika is very rigorous about which individual has the right to interact with you. he's always suspicious if you say you're going out with someone or if a random person talks to you on the streets. he fears them corrupting you so much, he'll glare at them, possessively shielding you away from their gaze by putting himself in front of you, eyes red in anger and chasing them away from how powerful his scent gets. the type of scent which makes you feel more vulnerable than usual because of how bad it affects you. those domineering pheromones of him weren't meant for you and he feels so bad you had to spend such an awful moment because of him.

kurapika will baby talk to you, assuring you you don't need to go out to actually be happy. his terror of losing you grows stronger each day and the simple fact of not having you in his vision field is enough to send him into a state you're the only one able to soothe by submitting and baring your nape to him. you wait for him to scent you, all docile, while you feel his respiration calm down.

kurapika monitors you. he started by advising you certain clothes before straight out telling you what to wear. he's the one cooking for you, he can't have his precious omega hurting herself in the dangerous kitchen. he makes sure to feed you healthy meals so you're always in good shape and keep a strong body. he's putting you to sleep at the same hour each day, sometimes forcibly so because of how stubborn you can be. kurapika knows better than a dumbly cute omega like you. you need all your hours of sleep end of story. if you're persistent, he'll either drug your hot beverage with sleeping pills or coax you into agreeing by promising you he'll take you out tomorrow if you comply right now.

kurapika knows how easy it is for him to make you obey and submit, you're his omega and he knows everything there's to know about you.

overall, kurapika is insanely worried and preoccupied about his omega. he wants both your and his world to be about your relationship only, others can get lost honestly. it's fine if you don't love him immediately, his main responsibility is to protect you, you'll eventually come to love that side of him, he's sure of it. for now, all he wants is to be needed and make sure you never experience anything traumatising just like he once did, and keep that sweet and pure mind of yours untouched.

[ayoogirlie]

Before I start writing angst, let's go with something pleasant. I just recently started reading and watching MASHLE which is why I don't knowe many characters well.

MASHLE MAIN 5 X GN!READER (separated)

Main 5 falling in love with you!

Mash

This one is oblivious. He doesn't realise he holds special feelings for you. I believe at first he could have though of you as sibling.

You're just as important as his father so why not? The three of you could be a fine family.

He would share creampuff with you... just like with others. Honestly, it would be difficult to notice he likes you in that way. This man is so indifferent or more like he forgot to train his face muscles.

The thing that betrayed his feelings is the fact that he has been following you everywhere like a little duckling his mom.

Whether you have classes together or not. If you had them together — he would sit with you or at least close to you. Some rather prefer to sit alone, which helps them focus. On the other hand, if you have separated classes, he would always escort you to the class and only leave after making sure you sat down.

Mash's main love language would be act of service. I don't find him as a touchy guy — he would respect your personal space. The most he would do is grab the snip of your sleeve to not possibly lose you in crowd. (I find it cute honestly, like he would be to shy to grab your hand, so he would be happy with bare minimum.)

Going back to act of services. I think you would have a special privilege — flavoured creampuff. Coffee, chocolate, strawberry, etc., whichever you want. This guy would take you to kitchen and make you bake them together. Unless, your cooking is hopeless and you can set the kitchen on fire, then you're simply watching him work and talk about the silliest things.

Mash would definitely listen to your rambling. Well, at least he will try to. At some point, he would pass out, if he was overflowing with many new information. Please, go slow with him.

When asking others for help with you, he first would try to figure things out himself. Only if he had no more ideas, would he ask his friends for love advices (most likely Lance or Finn).

This guy is so sweet yet so clueless. He loves you so clumsily and as a boyfriend he doesn't change his attitude much. He already treated you in special way. Well, maybe he'll get more intimate with you. I'll leave it to your imagination.

Finn

I simply adore this boy. His love is as innocent as he is. Literally, he would be all red and shy when he realised his feelings for you.

He would get nervous around you and every possible physical contact would make him explode. He's too focused to not make any mistakes in front of you, that he forgets to relax.

Well, it's not like he's always like that. His heart would explode at this point. There are some moments, when he is even sweeter than he is now. It's when you simply sit somewhere and do nothing, just enjoying your existence. He feels so calm that he wish those moments would last forever.

Finn likes DIY. So I bet he would make some for you, it might be jewelry, plushie or something more practical. Whatever you'll ask for he will do. (If it's in terms of his skills.)

If you ask him to teach you how to make some, he would be more than happy. Who wouldn't be happy to spend time with their crush?

He would carefully explain everything and help you if you have any difficulties with the project. Sometimes I wonder where he gets all this patience from. Whether you would get discouraged or curse how hard it is, he would try to calm you down and explain your mistakes.

When I'm still talking about teaching. Study session. I just see with my eyes of imagination. The two of you sitting in library beside each other and bending over books. It depends on you — whether he's teaching you some subject or you just enjoy your company.

Finn loves animals. I think, he would always tell you many random fact about them and won't stop talking, until he gets a hold on himself.

When he finally remembers himself, he will start apologising and feeling bad about being the only one talking. Then you kave to reassure him that you really don't mind and he can continue.

As a boyfriend, he treats you very well. People might say he's a perfect boyfriend material, but you can see how much he tries and I hope you do as much for him as he does for you.

Lance

Honestly, I can't imagine him giving someone else attention than his sister. Like this sis-con on has Anna in his head. So you can imagine how everyone was surprised when they noticed his unusual behaviour towards you.

And it wasn't some big change. No. It was more subtle. He was less strict with you than he is with others. Whenever you seemed sad because of his, sometimes mean, comments, he would apologise. (It took him a lot of courage to say this simple words.) He was more careful with his act to not sadden you.

I believe that after some time of knowing each other he would tell you about his sister and maybe if he happens to trust you a lot — about her illness as well.

He strikes me as a gentleman at some point. He would hold the door for you, help you with school work and follow you almost everywhere as if it was his duty.

Unfortunately for you, his sister will always be his number one, so unless you accept this fact, I don't think he will try to do anything with your relationship.

As well as it was with Finn, you two would have study session together. This guy is so clever that it would be stupid not to ask for help with the subject, spell or other thing you have difficulties with.

He truly admires you. You saw him in numerous embarrassing situations, for example when he was talking to Anna's pictures etc. Everyone' else would already start avoiding him. Maybe that's why he finds you as a perfect match for himself. Someone who wouldn't judge his behaviour and just accept his 'imperfections'.

Lance would respect your personal space and it would have to be you who initiates physical contact (mostly before your relationship). But he would place his hand on your waist with excuse not to let you bump into others.

He looks like the guy who would give other people, who are talking to you, nasty glare, when you don't look. It's not that he doesn't believe in his charm, it's just the fact that he doesn't like others being to close or touchy with you.

As a boyfriend Lance becomes more possessive and clingy. He would hug you from behind and gets touchy when you least expect it. Well, at least you're never bored.

Dot

It's easy to captivate this hot-headed guy's heart... if you're a woman of course. Male readers have it harder. But now we are talking about the stage he is already in love.

He would always boast to his friends about how he's going to marry you with no shame. Of course, always when you're absent. If by chance you will witness him saying it. He would want to hide under ground.

He would always scream at the person, you would give too much attention. He gets easily jealous, but he act like thata with every male that gets too much attention from others.

That's why you don't realise he holds any special feelings towards you. He still acts like he act towards women, so you don't think any special of the way he treats you.

I believe Dot would be touchy with you. Like put his arm over your shoulder or surprise you from behind. Honestly, if he would have ever touched you in a way that would make you feel uncomfortable, as a man he is — he would never forgive himself.

In his eyes, he gives you special treatment. He doesn't play pranks on you and even with Lemon in room, he always focus on what you're saying and so on.

After some time, he gets more obvious that others notice his strange behaviour. He always stares at you, daydream about you two being together. His eyes are always following your person.

When you're close, he catch himself on enjoying your fragrance. Later of course, Dot will blame himself as well call himself a pervert. But you cannot be mad at him. He just can't get enough of you.

If he only could he would almost always hold you in his arms and never let go, while being too scared you might run away from him.

He is energetic, so as a boyfriend he would take you to many places. Date? Let's go to amusement park, if not, we have many other options. Of course, sometimes you two have home dates, where you just cuddle and enjoy eachother company.

Lemon

Congratulations. You just won over Mash and captured Lemon's heart. This turn of event surprised everyone, like literally everyone, even Mash.

Lemon would act similar like she did while having crush on Mash. She would be so delulu and talk about how the two of you are engaged and all (in fact you aren't... for now).

She would randomly grab your arm and hug it. People got used to seeing you this way. The two of you walking through the corridor, you look like those couples who always stick close to eachother.

She gets easily jealous of other people you're close with, expect for Mash, Lance, Finn and Dot, since she knows they won't try anything with you. When she feels threatened by someone, she would get closer to you or (in most cases) panic.

She would definitely share Cupid Gummies with you. Like she would buy it and almost immediately run to you only to give you some. She thinks of it as a special bond between the two of you.

Lemon blush a lot around you, that's for sure. You get too close? With red as tomato face, she would slap you. She gets a little violent when nervous, it's the fact you have to accept. But who can blame her? She's so happy to have you around that she cannot control her actions.

She's like a ray of sunshine, which is why whenever you're sad, she will try to make you feel better. Sometimes when words won't help, she just sits next to you. She wants you to know she will be always here for you.

You would get a lucky charm from her. One reason is that to keep you safe, other is to have her close to you. While making a design she would try to match with your taste. Like when she made Mash creampuff plushie, she would make something similar.

Whenever she would have problems with spells, she would go to you. Perfect excuse to spend time together! In exchange, she would teach you theory you would have problem with.

As a girlfriend, Lemon is very sweet. She wouldn't have to find excuses just to spend time with you. You would be often seen together eating lunch or walkings around while holding hands.

[moltensmusings]

A few things about Astarion that I need people to think about outside of him simply being flirty and attractive (since people keep reducing him to his sex scenes):

His route has a heavy focus on emotional intimacy and consent. You can sleep with him sure, but if in-between acts 2 and 3 you learn nothing about him and pressure him into having sex with you then you're not understanding his character and he'll only see you as someone who wants his body.

Ascended astarion is his bad/dark ending. I know people love it when he's powerful and ascended/durge is a relationship people love and I'm not here to say that's wrong or that you're a terrible person for doing it. But stop arguing that it's his happy ending, or that he's better for it when he literally loses himself and in a nonascended version he'll say he could feel himself changing in ways he didn't like. He becomes another cazador. He only truly expresses himself and feels release if he kills Cazador and doesn't ascend.

Unless you do the drow twin scene prior to beating Cazador you're not forcing him into anything. He gives approval for going through with it. Do I think he regrets it after because he realizes he was biting off too much too early? Yes. But it's literally him learning his boundaries and understanding what he is and isn't comfortable with. He's only just starting to be able to fully choose what he wants, sometimes you make mistakes. It's part of the process.

Astarion died young before he fully matured as an elf, but he wasn't a child. He was a magistrate in the city, he had a fully functioning brain. But just because he was an adult by human standards when he died doesn't make it any less heartbreaking. People dying in their 30s is still tragically young. And even more so for an elf.

(This one doesn't come up as often) he doesn't hate Gale, he is very much flirting with and attracted to Gale at in act 1 if you bring them around. In fact Shadowheart and Wyll are the only ones he has dislike for at any point and as the story goes he warms up to everyone. All the companions care for each other and it's one of the best found families in video games.

There are several companions I feel large portions of the fandom just misunderstand/don't fully read into and it's tiring because the devs made each one so layered and interesting. I just feel like since Astarion is essentially the face of the game now, he's the one who constantly gets boiled down to his most surface level qualities with little regard for his story as a whole.

[zepskies]

Hi, how are you?

I was wondering if you could write something like "Dean reads you wrong" but with Sam Please

Hey, lovely!

I'm doing well, thank you. 💜 I hope you are too! Hmm, I'm still working through my current bank of requests, but since "Dean reads you wrong" is so fresh, it got me thinking about how Sam would go about this...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: It's hard for Sam to admit he wants you...when he thinks you might want his brother.

Song Inspo: "If You're Gone" by Matchbox Twenty

Word Count: 1,600 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst, fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Sam reads you wrong.

When Sam falls for someone, he's...well, what he would call self-aware.

But also cautious.

He knows his own track record with women. He knows the life he leads, and has resigned himself to giving up most kinds of normalcy or domesticity.

And maybe, a part deep in the back of his brain has given up on the idea of love.

That's why it's so damn confounding...how you've managed to take him by surprise.

He's always been able to rely on you. Whether it's sharing the brunt of the research with him when Dean loses focus, or staying up with Sam on late nights, sharing mugs of tea and quiet conversation, bonding over familiar tastes in books, and '90s grunge music, of all things.

You also confessed to him, late one night, that you have a growing collection of mugs, fuzzy socks, and vinyl records, despite the fact that your record player has collected more dust than the bunker's old storage room.

You're wonderfully weird.

And you're unfailingly loyal to who you consider "your people." And Sam thinks (knows) he's fortunate enough to be included in that small circle.

Sam also knows, deep in his gut, no matter how much he tries to "rationalize" it away, that you're special. And special to him.

You've managed to do more than just slip under his skin. When he thinks too hard on it, he can admit it (just to himself). You've infiltrated all four corners of his heart so deeply, he doesn't have a prayer of scooping you out.

Some days, it's all he can do not to reach out while you're chatting away, filling the silence.

He can picture it like a scene in his mind: of interrupting your mouth with a gentle hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to his and showing you, with or without words, that he wants you...

And yet.

He can't help but watch how you are with Dean.

You two tease each other, bicker and gripe over coffee grinds left in the coffee pot and who ate the last of the leftovers. You fight with Dean over the remote on movie night (once, damn near smothering him with a pillow).

But you also dote on him, making sure Dean has one of his favorite desserts every time you go out to buy groceries. You swap his beer out for water when he's not looking. (And though Dean frowns and grumbles, he doesn't argue with your raised brow and imploring look.)

It's not quite flirting, but it's not quite platonic either—at least in Sam's eyes. You and Dean seem to have something.

And sometimes, your playful banter with his brother makes Sam sick to his stomach.

Like today, when Sam’s sitting at the kitchen table reading while you're making a cup of tea. The silence between you two is amiable, like usual.

Sam steals a glance at you and has to smile.

"Going with purple polka dots today?" he asks.

You look over with knitted brows of confusion, until you follow his gaze. You laugh sheepishly and wiggle your toes through your fuzzy socks.

"The floor is cold as hell," you defend yourself.

Sam's smile deepens a fraction as he turns back to his book.

"They're cute," he adds.

You turn your face to hide your blush. The mild thunder of heavy boots announces Dean's presence as he pops into the kitchen.

"Oh good, you're cooking. What's for dinner?" he asks. You turn to give him a familiar narrowed look.

"Who says I'm cooking?" you counter.

"Well, you're doing something on the stove..." Dean peers over and catches a whiff of the concoction you're brewing. He grimaces. "Second thought, I'm good. That smells like ass, whatever it is."

You roll your eyes at him. "It's just green tea, Dean. You know, health?"

He levels a deadpan expression at you as he opens up the pantry.

"I see your 'health' and I raise you...Doritos," he says. He digs his hand into the bag he's just pilfered and crunches a mouthful in your face. You can't help but splutter a laugh and push Dean away.

"You're ridiculous. If you catch a heart attack at 50, don't come crying to me."

"Hey, at least I'll die happy."

"Oh, right. A silver lining there. I'd hate to see what your arteries look like," you tease.

"Has anyone told you that you're unsavory?" Dean asks, continuing to crunch with an open mouth.

You smirk. "Is that your way of calling me sweet?"

He snorts. "Sure, sweetheart. We'll call it that."

"You know, I'm not your sweetheart," you point out.

Dean discreetly glances his brother's way with a sly glint in his eyes. Sam doesn't see it; by now he's trying his damndest to keep his eyes in his book and ignore the way his stomach is clenching, chest tightening.

Dean shifts his attention back at you and reaches down to brush your chin with his thumb.

"Not yet, but you could be," he says, in a flirtatious edge that he's never quite taken with you.

You're wide-eyed for a moment. In the end, though, you choose to take it as teasing. You push his hand away and give him an annoyed look.

"God, you're such a clown. Order a pizza if you're that hungry," you rejoin, and you pour two mugs of freshly brewed tea. "I won't even bother offering you one."

"Nope," Dean says, popping the "p." He walks out of the kitchen, giving Sam a firm slap on the back. Sam coughs and shoots his brother a frown.

Dean has the gall to wink at him before he walks out. Like he's having his own little private joke.

Well, Sam isn't laughing. He stares down hard at his book. He tries to ignore everything he just heard and saw out of the corner of his eye.

It becomes too much. He takes up his book and heads out of the kitchen.

He just doesn't see the way you frown as he walks away. There you stand, left holding two mugs of tea for you and him.

Sam returns to his room for a while. He's not hiding. He's...reading.

There's a knock at his door, and if it's Dean, he swears he's going to open his mouth and tell his brother to leave him the hell alone, like he's some kind of moody teen.

But it's you.

"Hey," you greet, after the door creaks open. Sam softens.

"Hey," he says, clearing his throat. "What's up?"

"You," you reply. You bring him his hot mug of tea and set it down on the desk where he sits.

"Thanks," he says.

You nod and place your mug beside his (Lord of the Rings themed, of course), and cross your arms as you lean against his desk.

Sam turns toward you in his chair. His hands rest on his thighs. His gaze travels back up to your face as he tries to keep his neutral, but welcoming to whatever you want to ask him. (He buries his heart deep, as he instinctively does whenever you're near him.)

"You okay?" you ask. Your brows furrow the longer you gaze down at him. Just staring, like you know he's hiding something. Like you can see straight into him, into the shadows where he keeps most of his thoughts of you.

This is perhaps the only area of his life where he's a coward.

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam replies, in a tone that suggests, Why wouldn't I be?

You quirk a smile. "Why don't I believe you?"

Sam swallows. For once, he's not sure what to say to you.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" you say softly. You take a subtle step into his orbit, almost between his open legs. Your demeanor says that you'd gladly listen, do whatever he asked of you. Because you're just that kind.

Sam's mouth twitches upward. "I know. I'm fine, really."

"You're fine, or you're Winchester fine?" you raise a brow.

Sam chuckles then, showing a flash of his smile. It lightens you.

"Maybe a bit of the second one," he admits.

You smile and inch closer, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah? Tell me," you say. Your voice is soft, but not quite a whisper.

It leads Sam to sigh. He grasps your hand where it lies on his shoulder. For a moment, he debates internally. He realizes then that Dean's antics earlier might've been more than just teasing. Maybe it was a subtle nudge—to stop wasting time.

Damn it, just do something, Sam thinks.

When you squeeze his hand back, it's just the small push he needs. He glances up at you.

Then he takes your hand and holds it between both of his, with care. He tugs you forward, surprising you as you step forward between his legs. Your mouth parts in soft surprise when he reaches a hand up to your cheek.

You still look surprised, blushing up to your ears, but you're not pulling away. In fact, your widened gaze moves from his eyes to his lips.

Sam smiles. He tugs you down to him and enacts a living daydream, finally kissing you with everything he has. Everything he’s had locked inside.

You respond to his mouth in kind; the subtle gasp of breath against his lips sharply cuts off as you sink into his kiss. Your trembling hand comes to his cheek, grazing the dull prickle of stubble. When your fingers dive into his hair next, it’s his turn to take a deep breath.

With each new kiss, he explores more of you. His hands find your waist, and he gathers you against his chest. You find purchase on his strong shoulders and give into the opportunity to straddle his hips, sitting in his lap while he continues to make your heartbeat wild in your chest.

Sam slows the kiss, only because his brain is starting to catch up with his heart. He wants to see your face, to make sure this is what you want.

He finds that and more when he looks up at you.

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, tenderly brushing his thumb against your cheek.

"Does that answer your question?" he asks, with a soft laugh. You join him and press your forehead against his.

"I don't know,” you tease. Your eyes are dancing, both with amusement and relief. Because your heart has wanted this for even longer than Sam's.

You lean back in to whisper close to his lips. “Maybe I need a little more clarity."

Sam takes you at your word.

AN: It's been a long time since I've written for Sam! 💜 I got in another request for him a while ago. I may dust that one off soon... Until then, let me know what you think of this!

(And don't worry. I didn't forget about the Soldier Boy imagine I promised. That will come out at the end of this week, most likely!)

Read Dean's version: "Dean reads you wrong."

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[kitcat22]

We really don’t focus enough on Echo’s time as a prisoner of war and how earth shatteringly horrific it must have been.

Like i don’t think he would be immediately handed off to the Techno Union so they can cut the secrets out of his head. There was likely a time period spent being tortured/interrogated by the separatists for information before they decided they weren’t getting anything out of him the regular ways and handed him off to the Techno union’s experiments may yield more results. ‘Regular torture’ doesn’t imply it was in anyway easy to resist, by the way. Throughout history prisoners of war have been subjected to immensely disturbing interrogation methods. Physical, psychological,sexual you name it, it’s been done. He would have undergone this treatment by those who consider him less than a droid, so there’s the casual dehumanisation throughout all this.

Seeing as Echo had just been blown up before his capture, he liked would have endured this while already very injured. I headcanon that while he lost one of his limbs in the blast, the other two had to be amputated by the Techno Union because they were so badly infected they were practically rotting off.

His time with the Techo Union is undoubtedly the most awful, traumatising part of this whole ordeal, with forced amputations and unnecessary experimental surgeries. I see a lot of takes where all of this is done in one go but it makes more sense to me that there would be brief recovery periods between operations. Recovery is a strong word when this period would consist of being strapped to a medical bed attached to a whole bunch of machines, knowing what has been done to you and what will be done to you but being utterly helpless in stopping it.

The fact Echo was given prosthetics at all always seemed strange to me but one way I’ve reasoned it is that sometimes scientists do things without reason just to experiment. For reference, Unit 731 (Really suggest not looking this up if this type of thing really triggers you. I’ve only read the wikipedia page and still found it difficult to stomach)

Oh, and either Echo assumes his brothers are coming to rescue him and slowly loses his faith or he assumes at the start that they would believe him dead and is stuck knowing that no one’s coming to save him. Saving himself becomes a harder plan to achieve when he’s suddenly down multiple limbs and is constantly monitored, drugged starved etc.

Honestly the fact he seems at all together when he’s rescued is kind of a miracle because i think i’d have lost my mind multiple times over. I think he probably did straight after he joined the Bad Batch and everything set in.

[muletia]

alrighr, yandere it is(maybe, I mean truck dad hyperfixates on you like you're his autism interest)

And also him being completely horny on the inside is so funny like

"Ah hello Y/N, it's always a pleasure to have you here(i was feeling so depressed and having a boner 5 minutes ago in my dorm)"

that's him, that's my obsessed optimus.

like yeah, he smiles at you and seems a bit chirpier than usual in your presence, but he still keeps his feelings for you bottled up inside. he’s like boiling water in a pot with a lid on. the pressure makes the lid rattle, so you know the water’s boiling, but you don’t know how much. when it comes to Optimus’ feelings — it’s intense as hell. giving him attention calms him down a little since he can focus on you, on the conversation, or the contact between your skin and his metal, but if you’re not around, bro’s like a ticking time bomb. and, it really doesn’t help that he’s horny. sometimes.

let’s say he hasn’t seen you for a long time (a week). the longing eats away at his processor; he thinks about you 24/7, and suddenly his thoughts start getting bolder, more shameless, focusing more on your body than your soul. he tries to remind himself, to scold himself, that it’s immoral and he absolutely shouldn’t be stirring himself up like this, because it’s hurtful for both of you. that he’s being crude. and then he looks down and already knows that he’s failed again, that he couldn’t stop himself. and it’s exactly like you wrote — then you show up at the base, and Optimus acts ‘normal,’ sweet towards you, asking if you’re okay, how life’s going, anything just to keep you talking to him, like he wasn't jerking off 5 minutes ago thinking about your cleavage 💀

optimus: the world is a cruel and unjust place. i feel excitement at the sight of a being 50 times smaller than me. i am going insane without them, i need to be near them 25 hours a day or i’ll lose my mind, but i can’t confess my feelings to them because they’ll think i’m disgusting and creepy. i will never be happy...

*reader walks into the base*

optimus: omg reader hi

i can totally see him listening to country music and imagining the two of you as a couple living out in the countryside with a bunch of sparklings.

just pray to god he never finds out what thirst songs are, because he WILL let his erotic fantasies run wild (you top btw)

tbh the only thing that could save him is you confessing your feelings for him and accepting the fact that he’s a freak when it comes to you, because optimus would just keep spiraling in a loop of self-hatred, depression, and arousal until he just burns out.

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── ᰥ ๋ 🚀 ̯࣪ ⭒ playing videogames together !

nct dream sfw headcanon. fluff, crack. so late for the hype only up had a couple of months ago but anywayyy. cleaning my drafts. mdni. library.

⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: only up — haechan.

jokes on you just for thinking you were going to remotely get near his pc, because this is a gameplay. he gets cocky pretty quick when he's playing. “don't worry, sweetheart. you get to play when i lose,” he'd say with an arrogant tone; he never loses. he also whines your name because you get in the way.

he'd probably brag about finishing the game in record time just to impress you.

he's a pain in the ass, honestly; his game nights sum up to him playing and you watching him play which you don't mind that much since you get to snuggle with him on his gaming chair. the truth is that he likes to annoy you, but he does it with love; after all, his computer is full of games he has downloaded just because he knows they are your favorites.

⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: bread and fred — mark.

“yo, i almost got it!” he'd take his head in his hands, sullen. “mark! oh, my god!” constant yelling at each other but on the inside you love each other. you think you're having a good time but the truth is mark's about to burst into flames; he's the worst gaming pal ever, but it's okay because you love him. “babe, c'mon, focus.” he gets so sulky sometimes.

a lot of nervous laughter when he messes up. would suggest playing spiderman because he's sure he'd be good in that one although there is some chance that he might be terrible at that too. pouts a lot and blames himself, causing you to stop the game and comfort him; just as he planned.

his exclamations would make the moment enjoyable and fun even if you have more defeats than victories.

⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: detroit become human — jisung.

so chill and cozy when playing games. jisung is so the opposite of haechan; video game afternoons with him are calm and peaceful. “you forgot a clue earlier, babe.” the best playmate in the world. mainly because he only wants to cuddle with his pretty girl, and since you're always moving around with episodes of hyperactivity, he found playing was the only way you'd stay still.

his hands innocently rubbing your tummy would make you lose your concentration. you won't be so happy with it, “ji, we're in a serious business right now, hello?” and it would end up with him nervously laughing on your neck “i swear i'm not doing it on purpose.” (he's in fact, doing it on purpose). actively participates in what is happening so he can be forgiven for being a puckish goofball.

he comments a lot during your gameplay and gives you advice on what to do when you need help.

⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: call of duty — chenle.

it's all laugh until it doesn't. i mean, take this seriously or receive a silent treatment. he's pretty chill until the team starts to lose, so you better man up. “no more funsies, bon bon,” he'd say before teaching you some 101, prayers for you to learn fast. this is a job, a lifestyle, like a life or death situation; he can't let ningning know she's better than you under any circumstances, he'll teach you to be a pro if that means rewarding you with kisses when you do well.

he's the scariest of all. full concentration. even the way he speaks becomes severe. if you happen to be nervous about disappointing him and he notices it, he'd pause the game to make sure you're okay, and probably joke about how bad you are at it.

“that's my girl!” kisses between victories “don't get used to it, tho” he doesn't want to spoil you. but... if it keeps you motivated, sure he will.

⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: ds games — jaemin.

more a watcher than a player. he likes to listen to you rant about a game you played when you were younger. it's so relaxing hearing your voice he falls asleep while you're talking. “oh, did i fall asleep? i was just resting my eyes.” “jae, you were snoring...” try to fix it with guilt tripping you because your voice's calm, yada, yada, “can you blame me, angel?” afternoons with him are peaceful, laying on his bed while you play cooking games and naming pokemons like they're your pets.

it becomes fun because he's very bad even at games that don't have difficulty levels. you're surprised at how bad he is, but you actually find it cute that he at least tries it for you.

⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: dayz — jeno.

he knows you're not good at it so he takes it pretty chill. the most understanding boyfriend, although it annoys you a little that he doesn't have competitiveness; he just wants to find a hobby that both of you like. friendly matches even when you guys lose on the battle royale cause you both suck. “gosh, not even two minutes in and we're out...” he teaches you how to play but it's only an excuse for you to sit on his lap while you're at it. he, in fact, chose it because he thought you would get scared of the zombies and would cuddle with him.

he's the one who suggests kisses between victories... and then suggests it every time you run into a zombie. he's the type to get obsessed with a game you recommend him so he can impress you when you play it together.

⠀ ୭ 🧷 ♡: mario party — renjun.

you're his known enemy. no friendly matches here, like for real. this is a win or a-win situation. the type who would do the silent treatment if you allowed yourself to lose to haechan. pushing the buttons furiously as if it actually did something, and putting all his energy into making body motions into the games as if it adds points if he's extra. “you're laughing?” “no, honey.” you are. he looks bite-sized and makes all this fuss.

you actually envy his passion. he's the best option when playing in pairs because he's the mastermind. making all the strategy moves. any ounce of shame when he takes your game controller and plays for you. it's not even funny anymore, but in renjun we trust.