#id rather have SOME feelings than none so

[boyswanna-be-her]

Life must be so weird without menstruation. What’s it like NOT spending one week every month not only being INCREDIBLY uncomfortable but also battling intrusive thoughts like “i dont want to die i just hate being alive!” and “i wish i could be a bug just a little insect with no thoughts i fucking hate being human” and then when the week is over you’re totally back to normal and cannot relate to the creature you became for a short while.? Couldn’t be me.

[thatonesystemig]

Ughhh this is what I get for trying to do conflict resolution

[sereniv]

apologies are hard and can be embarassing

but life is too short to let your grandma go to bed sad

[mrfoox]

You ever think or say something spontaneously without any real previous thoughts and then realize that it's kinda true/legit?

[mikkouille]

is bousplanet fr missing a whole performance (at least) cuz I'm missing mfs in my excel commenting on every single guy's every single performance

[somerandomdot]

Random Nsfw Halsin Headcanons

Hello I’m just trying something out, if you like it or have a different opinion or would like to share yours you may. Id appreciate if you suggested kinda, anything! Thank you for reading)

Omg I love his eyes in this GIF bro, his puppy eyessss

First off, for some reason this part in my brain just screams that this man has a dry humping kink, or any kinda of just pinning in general.

BIG MAN HANDS ON ME. Sorry, okay his hands are on your waist, shoulder, honestly any part he can grab at. His hands are either on your body or in your hair. He is a handy man.

One hundred percent this man has a breeding kink, I mean obviously… as nature intended

Going back to the pinning thing, I feel like with how large this hunk of a elf is he generally wouldn’t want to use much strength being worried of hurting you.

Honestly I feel like him putting half of his weight on top of you, or pushing himself against you is already crushing enough. So he’d be rather soft and slow at first.

We already know Halsin already is a giver when it comes to head, but one thousand percent he would like the same treatment. But would not really ask for it, so you’d probably have to ask him, since he’d never expect you too, caring about your pleasure and getting off on it.

If he’s on the receiving side of head, I feel like he’d not be the whimper type at all, but just groans, heavy breathing and saying your name/praises while you work on him with your mouth.

This man cannot keep his hips still, he’d be bucking into your mouth every so often, then apologizing for it as you’d gag from the unexpected thrust.

I can imagine this man is, rather large and thick when it comes to his sizing, rather on the more thick around the tip and thinning out to the base.

I feel like he wouldn’t be into heavy kinks, unless you’d ask to try something else/share kinks your with him. I feel like he’d be more into passionate sloppy sex.

His favorite position is either picking you up while he’s standing, your legs around his waist, back against any surface or none at all and his hands on your hips or wrapped around you as he controls the momentum by either thrusting up into you or literally lifting you up and down by your hips or just bear hugging you. (Had too) Or either the classic missionary, legs over his shoulders or around his waist as he thrusts into you as you layback and enjoy it.

Halsin enjoys long sessions rather than short ones, taking his time and edging himself and you. Agonizingly slow soft thrusts to than picking up his pace and roughness for a bit then continuing onto the slow soft ones.

He’d slowdown once you announce that you’re getting close, but if he unsuccessfully edges you as you hit your climax he wouldn’t punish you. If anything he’d make the session last longer enjoying the way you twitch and shudder beneath him or against him.

Eventually when he’s done edging himself and you he’d change his pace to a slow but rough thrusting, while he praises you or either has his head pressed into you neck, occasionally bites and nibbles on your neck and shoulders.

Only time I feel like he’d actually moan or whimper is while he puts it in or while he is comes.

He has, A LOT of ‘ammunition’, honestly feel like he’d come quite a bit, three to four shots. Making a nice cream pie.

Obviously he is an amazing person with aftercare, cleaning you up, helping you get dressed and healing if necessary.

Man’s loves cuddles, no shit he’s a big teddy bear, but due to his protective instincts he’d be holding onto things while he sleep, either it be a random pillow, you or wrapping his arms around himself he always sleeps holding something.

You made it!! Thank you so much, if you have any opinions, suggestions or any advice I’d love to hear it! Enjoy the rest of your morning/afternoon/night!

[storiesfromgaza]

"Mom, does it hurt when we get bombarded? Do we feel the pain, or do we just die at once?"

These are the questions that Reporter Youmna El Sayed began with in her interview conducted by the AJ+ network to document her struggles with her children and the suffering of all the people of Gaza

When my kids ask me, 'Mom, does it hurt when we get bombarded? Do we feel the pain, or do we just die at once?' and I have to tell them, 'No, don't worry. It's not going to hurt.' Their father reassures them, saying, 'Don't worry. It just happens once, and that's it.' In the past, we would comfort our children, saying, 'Don't worry. It's going to be okay. It's going to end soon. You'll be fine. We'll be fine.' Everything is shaking—constantly. But now, every night, we tell them, 'Don't worry. We're together, sticking together. If we die, we die together.' Death has become a looming reality since the Israeli army encircled Gaza city. The bombardments have been relentless—from the land, air, and sea. Our building is in a perpetual state of tremor. Three days ago, we awoke to the smoke of nearby fires filling our homes. We sought refuge in the basement, the best option with the least smoke, but it was still overwhelming. The kids were coughing, suffocating, and their eyes were itching. But when it comes to my children, it just hits me so hard, Dina, and I just feel that I can't control it anymore. I can't be that strong, brave woman who's able to control things or get things under control because they're my weak part. I feel a loss of control, unable to maintain the facade of strength and bravery. Judy, usually full of life, now appears quiet and terrified

She doesn't eat much. She doesn't feel like doing anything. I tried to speak to her about things, you know, bring back some happy memories, and I said, as usual, 'What would you like to do the first thing after this war ends?' She told me, 'Mommy, I don't want to do anything except for this war to end. I just want these bombardments to end, everything—the destruction, the despair, the loss.'

I think they tell you that now—we're just hearing news of people dying every now and then—people that we know, friends, colleagues, everyone around us. And it just, you know, really, like, 'May he rest in peace,' and that's it. I just—we just go on because we were just waiting for our turn. You mentioned to me that food is scarce and supplies are low. What is the water situation? We can starve, right? We can go on without food, even as adults. But without water, I'd rather die from bombardments than die from thirst. I don't want my kids at the end to die from thirst. Are you still thinking to move south, and what would that look like? The last attempt was a couple of days ago, and we found out that to move south, we need to walk for at least 6 to 7 km on foot and not carry anything at all with us—none of our belongings. Basically, walk this distance while we raise our hands to show that we surrender, just holding our IDs in one hand and raising the other. And I think that's just extremely humiliating. And it's not just that, you know?

You remember the massacre that everyone saw on TV screens for the civilians that were bombarded on the road? They're still lying there. Until this day, lying there in the streets, their bodies. The crows and the birds are eating from them, and no one has been able to pick them up. The Israeli army has not allowed anyone or ambulances or any medical teams to come to pick these people up and to bury them. How can I let my kids go through a street while they see other children and other people killed and thrown just like that, lying in the street like that, while birds are eating from them? I think that this is just inhumane and more cruel than anything. This is not to worry about fighting Hamas or Palestinian fighters. This war began by eliminating and wiping out the Palestinian people in Gaza. This isn't a war against Palestinian fighters nor Hamas; it's a genocide against Gaza.

[klxudykai]

things i've manifested over the past week

i didn't really manifest a whole bunch before this week because i felt like it wasn't working for me up until i realized i just needed to be persistent- (i know im goofy asf you can throw tomatoes at me now LMFAO)

i don't have much of a "routine" if anything it's short and simple. i usually do it when im tired because i feel like me being in a "sleepy state" of mind works better. then i just affirm. but i apply the affirmations to what im doing. so ill say smth like "with every breath i take i get this" or "as im falling asleep i get this". ill even mix it in with affirmations that sound like i have whatever im manifesting and ill say it casually too. like "oh yeah i have this it's pretty cool or whatever". i even visualize that i have what im manifesting and it makes it a lot more believable (i feel like if i can see myself with it, then its possible if that makes any sense)

i dont continue to affirm though because then if i do i dont go to sleep (ESPECIALLY when im trying to shift) and thats why i also add to the affirmation "as im going to sleep" because i feel like that makes me more sleepy. i dont even realize i fall asleep either so it helps a lot.

anyways i thought id share some of the things ive been manifesting considering ive been doing it pretty much daily:

i manifested that i would be in shape for volleyball at school since thats about to start back up soon and my coach wanted us to get a gym membership but i havent worked out once (havent had any time or motivation)

for a while i WAS manifesting that someone that i knew at my old school would transfer to my current school but something in my head was like "nah its not worth putting in effort" so i dropped that (but i have a feel that had i kept manifesting it, it wouldve happened)

i had really bad cramps one night so i affirmed that they would go away as im trying to sleep and they would be gone in the morning (safe to say that worked)

manifested that i have confidence (SPECIFICALLY the confidence that megan thee stallion and sabrina carpenter have)

while also manifesting more confidence i also manifested that people would want to hang out with me more and im desired (may have added a guy into that manifestation??)

its not anything big mostly cause i wanted to start small rather than bite off more than i can chew. its also cause i have a hard time believing my manifestations would work so i decided to just start small with them. also with the second manifestation that i dropped, thats not the first time ive attempted to manifest something and my head told me to just drop it. i dont think its meant to say "oh no that won't work" but its rather protecting me or smth (intuition came in clutch???) but yeah im not stressing about it considering i have all the things ive manifested and i can have so much more.

i dont have much to say anymore, but for the people that doubt manifestation, dont. that shit is real im telling you. if you persist and truly believe you have it, you got it. you dont even have to do much you could just slip it into a conversation or say it before you go to sleep and it will be there. persist, persist, persist. im so fr when i say it works yall. - coming from someone who thought none of my manifestations would come true

[sineala]

I subscribe to the newsletter of an author I like who wrote a book about 9/11 and the War on Terror and the security state in the US and how it led to the election of Trump, and it's all very serious but apparently the author is writing an Iron Man comics series. I don't read the comics, and a lot of what I know about them comes from your fic, so I'm honestly not sure how much fanon vs canon knowledge I have. 😂 But the series sounds like it might be interesting I think? The author talked about it in his newsletter today. (This link should work. Probably.)

https://www.forever-wars.com/iron-man-how-to-blow-up-a-pipeline-succession/

I am actually really excited about this run! I try not to get excited about new Iron Man runs because chances are high that my hopes and dreams will be crushed, and I know that just because someone writes, say, stunningly excellent non-fiction, it is not a guarantee that they will be great at writing fiction at all or superhero comics specifically (cf. Ta-Nehisi Coates on Cap), but judging by everything Spencer Ackerman's been saying in interviews, his run sounds like it's going to explore a lot of interesting themes.

The post you linked links to an AIPT podcast that he was on a few days ago to talk about his new Iron Man run. For those of you who don't listen to podcasts (this is also me), the Iron Man subreddit has what seems like a fairly comprehensive summary of the interview, and I am really looking forward to the run. Issue #1 apparently hits stores on October 23.

But I will tell you why I am actually now really excited about this run. It's not relevant to anything about the comic itself. I am nonetheless very excited.

Last month, after he was announced as the new Iron Man writer, in order to hype up his run, he posted an offer on his blog: if you add the run to your pull list, and you email him proof that you're pulling his run and include a snail-mail address, he will mail you some cool Iron Man stickers.

I eventually got around to doing this last week. I was assuming he didn't actually pay attention to any of these emails so I dashed off a couple sentences about how I was looking forward to his take on Tony because he'd posted a photo of the Iron Man comics he was reading for research and several of them were among my favorites. And then I went off to get bagels.

By the time I had come back with bagels, twenty minutes later, he'd written me a very nice reply substantively engaging with the content of my extremely off-the-cuff message -- geez, if I'd known he was going to be actually reading them I would have put a lot more thought into it, you know? It was very kind and I was not expecting it.

He spelled my first name wrong in the reply, despite it being in the email header and also the name I had signed the email with.

This happens to me a lot. I have a first name that is very common in a lot of languages, but none of those languages are English. I'd say there's a 50-50 chance that a native English speaker will spell or pronounce my name wrong. This is unfortunate, because I live in the US and mostly interact with native English speakers. (My wife @lysimache immediately knew how to pronounce my name. I mean, it wasn't why I married her or anything, but I feel like it was a big plus on a personal level.)

If I have to give my name for something, I will reflexively spell it. The second-to-last time I voted, they'd switched voter lookup to you giving them your name rather than you giving your street address, which was a surprise that filled me with dread. My wife was in line ahead of me and she was completely finished voting by the time the poll workers had finished correctly spelling my name. (The last time I voted, I just handed them my ID, which is not required in my state, but I really wanted this to go faster.) I went to the doctor last week, and when they called my name in the waiting room, they said it wrong. I corrected them. They said it differently wrong a couple minutes later. I corrected them again. They said it wrong again. At that point I gave up.

(If I could think of a name I liked better that I was absolutely sure that most people could spell and pronounce, I would change my name. I still have not found one.)

So, you know, I'm used to it. It happens. Frequently. I was not at all surprised that he spelled it wrong.

He then emailed me again to apologize for spelling my name wrong. Like, immediately. One minute later. He said he was sorry and he knew a lot of people with a similar name.

Dude. Nobody does that. Nobody actually apologizes. Especially not in an email to a rando like me. He did not need to do that. At all. I was not expecting him to do that. He did that. I was honestly touched. No one bothers to do that. But he did.

I got my stickers in the mail yesterday.

I have redacted the portion of the note that has my name in it, but he absolutely spelled my name correctly.

Mr. Ackerman, sir, I hope your comic sells a million copies.

[soft-for-them]

Palm readings and tulips - Roman Godfrey x plus size reader

Summary: You and Roman are close, best friends even. You think he doesn't love you despite everything pointing to him loving you.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: Before writing this I hadn't watched Hemlock Grove since I was like fourteen so at this point in time I've only re-watched the first few episodes so the characters are probably way ooc. Not proof read.

-

Since turning eighteen, aka a legal adult, you’ve realised that you still don’t have the power to do much at all. You’re still learning to drive despite knowing that you won’t be able to afford the cost of a car on your own. You’re working part time and you’re still somehow waking up every morning to go to school which seems to never end.

Then there’s Roman.

Best friends since your family moved to Hemlock Grove when you were twelve, the promise of a job at the steel mill shattered as soon as you arrived leaving you to play outside alone whilst your parent(s) worked over jobs. Roman's always been generous with his disposable wealth when it comes to you because of your family situation.

Roman Godfrey with his fancy little red car always filled with fuel, his house always open to you when you don’t feel safe at home, his disregard for the price of anything, him choosing to always pay for your shopping the rare time he stalks around a shop with you when he’s not busy bedding other people. With a flick of a wrist he can get anything he wants no fake ID or drop of his prestigious name needed, though he does the latter one regardless, Roman Godfrey has the world at his feet.

Maybe that’s why you’re forever thinking up reasons why he’s still friends with you.

As you bang you head on your dull green locker, no one around the hallways to stop you doing so for most if not all the students have been killed in gruesome bloody ways only leaving the younger students and the less than savoury upper-classmen left. To think, if you didn’t have someone like Roman following you around like a shadow then you’d probably be mauled to death and left in a ditch somewhere.

What a lovely thought indeed.

Raising your head you look down the hall, only small clumps of people mulling around, a larger group of tall teens clad in baggy clothes huddled around some lockers probably looking at something indecent catching you attention.

“I am an adult for crying out loud.” you mutter to yourself as you check you book bag filled with heavy textbooks and your large novelty pencil case, “I should be out of this fucking town.”

Then a loud obnoxious laugh, one that sounds more like some exclaiming ‘HA!’ rather than a proper laugh echoes down the hallway reminding you that nothing good ever comes from such fake sound.

So with a reluctant sigh you mosey over to the group of boys, not caring that you look half dead in your oversized baseball jersey and baggy mom jeans, your bag clutched in your hands ready to use it as a weapon if need be.

“Alright fuckers what you looking at now?” you holler as you squish in between two towering boys who smell like B.O and dress like nul metal band rejects.

The best outcome is that they’re all ogling at a magazine of scantily clad women or huddled around a small screen of a phone looking at social media but no, sitting against a locker looking horrified is none other than Shelley Godfrey.

Her long faux hair droops over her entire face as she tries to look as small as possible, her long grey cardigan pooling on the dirtied checked floor of the hallway, her arms holding onto her speaking tablet with an inhuman clutch.

Your face turns stern, tired eyes showing how pissed off you are, the very small amount of power you have in this supernatural town bubbling up.

Most all the boys huddled around you both are way taller, a couple of the shorter ones plus size like you, so really you are outnumbered in every way including size. However, somehow the remaining gaggle of teenage boys who roam the school have an odd resect for you. Much like how Roman, when he’s not fucking someone or completely gone like he was never alive, they follow you around school like lost puppies finding you entertaining, your straightforward and sarcastic wit making you ‘one of the boys’.

That and you’re one of the very few teens who Roman hasn’t bedded, some of your classmates almost seeing you like a challenge for surely soon enough Roman will fuck you too. You’ve overheard them talk about you like this many times, too many for your liking and you have mixed feeling about how they see you. On one hand some people see this pretty young woman who must be next on Roman’s conquest whilst others see you as just ‘the fat girl’ and nothing else.

For once in your life you’d like to be seen as more than a piece of meat but you digress, you’d much rather have the respect of these teenagers than have their ogling eyes look you up and down like your either their next fuck or next bullying target.

 “What? Her wig was falling off, it’s funny (y/n).” one smiles thinking that you’re going to happily chuckle alone with them.

Honestly you feel too much like a mother goose sometimes, these greasy teenagers your rebellious goslings who think you’d laugh along with them at such cruelty.

“Oh! FUNNY LIKE BREAKING YOUR DICK!” you shout at the top of your lungs, everyone is a five mile radius knowing it’s you shouting out your secret knowledge.

No one other than you and the gaggle of lanky teens surrounding you know who you’re exactly talking about however everyone else will have a fun time trying to guess who ‘broke’ their dick and hopefully the humiliation will hammer it into their head not to mess with Shelley Godfrey again.

“Come on (y/n)!” one scoffs whilst another gives you a “not cool bro.” to no avail.

“Where’s your brother?” you ask in you softest voice as you crouch down to Shelley’s height ignoring the scattering boys who try to do damage control now that everyone, which isn’t a lot compared to the beginning of the year, has heard what you shouted.

Speak of the devil Roman appears out of nowhere crouching down beside you as you talk softly to Shelley.

“Where the fuck have you been rich boy?” you scoff as you turn your head to look at your childhood befriend.

“How did you know Tyler broke his dick?” Roman retorts back with a handsome smile.

You ignore him, instead you help Shelley up.

“I’m not a blushing virgin Rom-“ you smile up to Shelley silently nodding asking is she’s ok which gets you a smile back before looking back to Roman, “- me and his brother was in the middle of some things when that idiot fell in the shower screaming bloody murder ‘My dick’s broken, my dick’s broken!’.”

You were having fun too, it’s not that often that a hot guy genuinely takes an interest in you let alone a hot college type who can take your wondering mind off Roman Godfrey, but then his idiot younger brother had slipped whilst belting out pop tunes in the shower making everyone in the house hold privy to the fact he hurt his member.

It was quite easy sneaking out whilst his family crowded around the bathroom, though your thoughts where quickly back of Roman.

As of late all you’ve been thinking about is Roman, that and escaping Pennsylvania but mostly of Roman’s stupidly handsome face.

Him looking at you now with eyes so filled with emotion, most of which you can’t decipher makes you almost blush and fumble. However before you can blurt out your feelings for the guy who used to follow you around town whilst you caught bugs or explored the library instead of going home you offer your arm to Shelley stating you’re going to take her to her class.

Shelley takes your arm with a small smile, a faint glow of blue like a firefly radiating from under her fringe. Roman follows closely behind you protectively, his heart filling up with an emotion he hasn’t properly felt in his life.

Love.

Roman Godfrey, the most powerful person in school, the man who is your shadow, in love with you.

“He’s not happy with you (y/n).” Peter says between puffs of his cigarette the two of you sat at the front of his static home.

He offers the cigarette to you but you refuse it.

“He’s never happy with me lately.” you say not believing a word that comes from your lips, you don’t think Roman has ever be properly angry or disappointed in you, not really.

“You know that’s a lie.” Peter says nudging your arm as you stare off into the distance to the house upon the hill.

“Peter, don’t contradict yourself.” you hit his arm back.

Ever since Peter Rumancek moved here you’ve been spending more and more time with him, well not as much as Roman has but you’ve been spending more time with the shaggy haired man then at home.

“What I mean is that he's annoyed at you.” as Peter talks you lean you head down on his shoulder, the late afternoon slowly fading into sunset, the air around going cold.

“How so?” you ask looking up at him.

“Something about a brother and you helping his sister.”

“Ah, that.”

Sighing, nuzzling your face into Peter’s bicep you try to figure out how to explain to him the situation that you hadn’t even realised was a situation until now.

So you explain it to him. In as little words as possible you recount the story of having a one night stand with a classmate’s older brother and the ensuing hilarity that you used as leverage to help Shelley.

“He really likes you.” Peter says bringing his hand up to pat your head as you slump down more into his arm like it was a pillow on your bed.

“Of course he does Peter, we’ve been friends since we were twelve.”

You don’t want to really explain anything more to Peter because you know exactly what he’s trying to get out of you.

Surely someone like Roman can’t like you back, right?

And from that conversation sometime later the next week you find yourself sat awkwardly on a throw covered blue sofa, a decorative pillow on your lap and Peter by your side fully relaxed.

Destiny has been kind to you the half an hour you’ve been here, she’s offered you tea, told you embarrassing stories about Peter and genuinely been hospitable and nice however as she breaches the subject of why you’re here you start to feel nervous.

It was Peter’s idea, he had been the one to bring up Destiny’s palm readings and curtsey of Peter you’re getting the palm reading for free. You’re not some naive little girl any more so you can take whatever Destiny gives you. Unlike the bigots of the town who think Destiny is scamming people out of their money because she is Romani you’re hopeful that she can give you a good reading and get Peter off you back to boot for he has been trying to tell you that Roman like likes you all week.

But still you’re nervous and jittery.

Destiny asks for your hands which you reluctantly hold out.

“I know you’re probably really good at this-“ you begin as she cradles your hands, your palm upward facing, Destiny leaning over to look at them, “-but I don’t need you tell me if I’m going to have kids or if I’m going to rich.”

Your eyes flicker between her and Peter.

“That’s no entirely how this works.” Destiny grins as Peter touches your arms to try to calm you down, “Anyway from what Peter has told me we may only need to look at your heart line.”

“Heart line?”

“Love.”

“Oh! Yeah, love…” your face scrunches up in worry, “Sorry, I’m not saying you’re a fake or anything but I, well, I already know who I love already, I just haven’t done anything about it so I don’t need a reading for that.”

She smiles, the dimpled lines either side of her mouth appearing as she does, her eye sparkling with curiosity.

“Peter you should have brought her over sooner.” she says eyes trained on you, “Shall we begin then?”

You nod a quick yes.

She begins tracing your palms, her fingers light but slow as she figures out both your past and your future form just the curved line of your hands.

“This hand-” Destiny begins cradling your non dominant hand, “- this one show your past.”

Her manicured finger traces a long line slightly jagged and curved.

“You’ve been through a lot.” she states, not trying to get anything out of you but allowing you to speak if you want to, “I assume it’s to do with your family.”

Two hours later Peter's leading you out of Destiny’s flat, a promise to visit again as a friend promised to her, tear soaked tissues stuffed up your sleeves and Peter holding your hand as he leads you onto the street now bathed in yellowing streetlamp light.

“That was a lot.” you try to upbeat but all that comes from you lips is a solemn exhale, “Promise you won’t tell anyone about all that?”

He bumps his shoulder into yours, his hand squeezing yours in a silent ‘yes’.

“Not even the bit about twelve year old you falling in love with Roman?”

“Shut up.” you laugh as you knock your shoulder into his back playfully, “Now walk me home.”

The next day after Destiny’s palm reading you’re overthinking too much so much so you get a headache that can only be cured by taking a long mid-morning nap.

Thankfully it’s the weekend and you don’t have work but unthankfully as you groggily wake up from your impromptu nap you hear the tell tell signs of one Roman Godfrey lowering himself down on top of your crowded double bed, his nicely dressed frame clashing with the teddy bears and old granny floral sheets of the bed.

“You climb through my window or something?” you ask as you drag yourself up into a sitting position, ignoring the fact your face comes dangerously close to Roman’s.

“No one’s here (y/n) so I used the key underneath the front door mat.”

“Liar-” you joke as your rearrange your twisted t-shirt on your plush body, “-the key is under the pot Rom, you know, the one with the dead tulips.”

You both maybe siting side by side, you under the covers and him fully clothed, but you can see his growing smile on his smug face from the side of his face, mischief soon to come.

“What, stop smiling like that and spit it out.”

His smile grows into a clown like grin as he lets out a deep chuckle. He bends down to the side to pick something off the floor. On hand latches onto your leg anchoring him down as he bends down hanging his other arm off the bed, warmth rising in your face at the rather forward action.

He rises bringing, what at first you think is a wad of paper, up but as you look closer you see the paper is combined with translucent pink plastic in a cone shape holding flowers in place.

Flowers.

Not just any flowers but blood red tulips, much more vivid and alive than the ones that used to live by your front door. And they’re not some supermarket type flowers either, there’s no barcode stuck to the plastic or creasing on the paper from where they’ve been sitting in a pot with other bouquets of flowers. No, they’re big, new and most certainly handmade, so perfectly arranged that they must have cost too much, well too much for you anyway.

For Roman it probably was nothing at all, his wallet still filled with too much money.

You must be frozen in place for Roman, one hand still on your leg, passes over the bouquet of tulips.

“Who you got these for?” you ask.

“I don’t like seeing you sad.” he says leaning closer so your noses almost touch.

“I’m not sad.” you try to smile, your eyes flickering between the blood petals and his sharp mesmerising eyes.

“I saw you yesterday with Peter, you were crying.”

Despite there being a thin blanket separating your bare legs from his hands you can feel him stroke patterns near your knee.

“Then why didn’t you come over then? You know I’ll always have you.”

Your words come out wrong for you were trying to say that he’s always welcome in your home though you guess the growing bubbling feeling of love has impaired your mind just a bit.

As your eyes look at the flowers you miss the hungry, almost monstrous look flash in Roman’s eyes, his pupils going large. It takes all his strength not to grab you and kiss you all over making you his.

He won’t even tell you either that last night another classmate died, that he was trying to investigate it.

“I’m taking you out.” he demands.

“Ok.” you say feeling that you can't decline, the thought of it being a date pushed out your mind for Roman always seems to be spending money on you, “Let me get dressed first Rom.”

[devourable]

༄ the mermaids

sfw | tws : thalassophobia, yandere behavior, kidnapping, mildly implied pred/prey dynamics? possibly?

happy mermay! doing this before i round back to my last male yandere, then i'll alternate between the girls and enbies 😌

apologies if the pacing on this is kinda ass,,, ive had no time lately and wanted to get this out so i could write other things <\3 hope y’all like it tho

there had been rumors of strange creatures living in the waters of ilanca reef for years now. from beautiful sirens that could lure you to a watery death, to sea monsters that'll snatch you up and swallow you whole, the speculation was so widespread that many were keen to believe it. because of that, the beach was often desolate with only the warning signs of monstrous sea life littering it.

when you discovered it, however, you had to admit.. despite all the warnings, all the rumors, all of the strange happenings? you honestly didn’t care. you liked having the entire beachfront to yourself! and you personally had seen no monsters. therefore you believed none of it, and went to the beach as you pleased.

that was exactly how the three mermaids that had been stalking you wanted it to be.

it had a calculated effort since the trio had taken notice of you weeks prior. it was any other day for them at first — lyonesse was hunting a bit further off shore, tomila was sunbathing on a half-submerged rock, and kallisto had her eye on land. therefore, it was kallisto who noticed when you came traipsing about, lugging a bag of beach essentials on your back and completely oblivious to their presence.

the moment you had arrived, all three girls dove back into the water with such speed that you didn't even notice them. just another dumb human trespassing on their territory, all on your own, they thought — didn't the others warn you? didn't you see the signs? they were there for a reason!

they were just going to scare you off at first. that's what they did to every human that dared to enter their turf. they'd show themselves, the human would run off and tell anyone who'd listen, and they'd giggle amongst themselves as the poor sop who they had frightened was either completely disregarded as another prankster who had a bit too much sun or caused a hysteria which made a throng of beachgoers flee the dunes for fear of being targeted next.

but when the girls reemerged and their eyes landed on you, unsuspecting of their presence as you set up your things in the shade... for some reason, they all stopped. and they all just stared.

...how did such a nice looking human stumble upon their beach? what were these strange feelings they got just from looking at you? why didn't they wanna chase you away?

all three girls found themselves doting on every aspect of you rather than planning how they’d drive you away. you were just so adorable! they couldn’t help it! your cute face, your little mannerisms, the quirky little things you did when you thought you were alone? it enamored them to you within moments.

tomila was keen to try to meet you off the bat. but every time she made a move to get your attention, lyonesse and kallisto stopped her. humans get scared so easily, they reminded her — if you ran off like the others, they'd risk never seeing you again! they had to avoid that at all costs.

it wasn’t like they could chase you on land… if only you’d come to the water! it was no surprise that their human was smarter than the others…

with you out of their reach for the time being, they started small. every time you came down to their isolated section of the beach, you'd find something new waiting for you. sea shells and shark teeth that'd never normally wash up on the beach, an old watch that still worked somehow, a wallet that was packed with money (completely sodden, but still intact) despite the ID mysteriously missing from it, anything that the girls understood to be of value to humans. it surprised you at first, then baffled you — it was clear it was all being placed there intentionally, but by who? you had no clue, but since no one else came to the reef and therefore was never claimed, it was free for you to take. so you kept returning, and the girls kept giving.

it made them so happy when you'd come down wearing one of the bracelets they left, or spent time trying to pry apart the tiny treasure box they'd filled with sea glass and old coins. you liked their gifts! that meant you'd like them when you'd meet, right? it didn’t matter that other humans were warning you to stop coming around, you didn’t listen to them. it had to be because you liked them so much!

for a time, they were content with just that. you usually came alone, and when anyone else dared to stop by — with or without you — they chased off the newcomers with a new aggression that kept them from coming back. stupid humans, didn’t they know that this beach was for you only now? they weren’t allowed! and with their collective effort, eventually everyone was too frightened to visit the beach entirely.

everyone except you, of course!

and when they were sure that no one else would interrupt the moment they had waited ages for, it was then and only then that they revealed themself to you.

needless to say, you were incredibly surprised the day you came down to the usual spot you'd find your treasures in and, rather than finding a trinket or jewelry, you found yourself grabbed by several pairs of scaley, webbed hands and dragged off the beach, into the water, where the three happily chirped and chattered at you — finally, finally, getting to meet their human treasure! and you had so much bonding to do now that you knew of their existence!

it’d be a while before they let you go again… but it’s okay — they watched you for so long, surely they knew about all the things you liked!

they’d make sure you’d be nice and comfortable during your time with them.

[theladywholivesonthemoon]

hello ! I read your Kitana fic and I must say your a really talented writer! id love to see you write some general sfw headcannons on her if you wouldn’t mind ! thanks :)

KITANA SFW HEADCANNONS

pairing: kitana x reader

warnings: none!

a/n: my first sfw headcanons. Thank you so much for the kind words ♡

Kitana is not a very emotional person on the outside, but she is a wonderful lover. Due to being raised as the princess of Outworld, she was taught to conceal her feelings, keeping them hidden away from the public as to keep the image of the royal family prime and pristine. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel her feelings, specially through her acts of love.

First, there as somethings that make Kitana, well, Kitana, such as:

Kitana is definetly a very serious individual, years of royal training leading to it. She tends to keep to herself, her interest hidden from view from most people, exept her close ones.

I image her being into dancing, due to all the acrobatics she performs while fighting with her fans, but she prefers to dance alone in her room than in a room full of people.

Kitana has a collection of fans ranging from all the colors of the wheel made with materials from all regions of Outworld. Her favorites being the Fartahk Cutters and the Nekrotonan Bladed Fans. She collects them like someone who collects card seals.

Due to her long life span she has seen a great deal of thigns, so I like to imagine she keeps multiple diaries to keep track of all the happenings. These diaries are carefully made with leather bound covers painted in the most intricate designs, the writing on the inside pristine and sophisticated. They are stored carefully in wooden bookcases in an adjacent room next to her bedroom, to be read when desired.

I definitely see Kitana’s love languages being quality time and physical touch, let me explain

QUALITY TIME:

Kitana cares for her loved ones deeply, but because of her royal duties she hardly had time to spend with them. So she tries her best to aline her schedule to do something with her special one at least for a few hours of the day. This is where I see a bit of acts of service coming in. Kitana, with all her decorum, arranges a diner on a quiet and reserved part of the castle, complete with fairy lights, rose petals on the ground and a good variety of Outworld’s finest beverages. As soon as she is freed from the thousands of appointments os the day, Kitana pushes through the tiredness and heads towards their shared quarters. It would be easy to order a servant to invite her lover to the planned diner, but she prefers to spend every little moment with them. The diner goes perfectly, just as something planned by a meticulous princess would. They talk for hours, the warm colors of dawn slowly merging into the night sky, conversation flowing swiftly as neither seem to notice how late it has become.

Kitana values all the little moments she shares with her lover, specially long walks in the palace gardens. They walk unhurriedly through the hanging gardens, admiring the beautiful scenery. The bioluminescent flora lights up the lovers way as they cruise through the garden. This is usually where Kitana feels most free- free from her royal duties, her worries and her fears. Something as simple as walking with her lover brings her a sense of calm that no other thing can reproduce.

Even though it’s not her favorite thing, she allows her lover to accompany her in missions. As the empresses most trusted assassin, she would often lead missions with the Umgadi, and even in a band of most trusted allies, it can turn dangerous at any minute. But, depending on the nature of the danger, she would rather have her lover closer than away, even if she has the utmost trust in the Umgadi. She knows her lover could manage by themselves, but she would rather not take any chances.

PHYSICAL TOUCH

Kitana is very touch starved, even though she won’t show it. She was deeply loved during her childhood, by both her parents, specialy Jerod, so the distance brought by royal duties was often breach through warm hugs and that love for touch carries to her romantic relationships.

During the time spent together, Kitana always has a hand on her lover. She either holds her special someones hand or has a hand strung around her lover's arm when promenading through the hanging gardens.

She also tends to have an arm behind her lover's waist while guiding them while socialazing in royal events so as to never lose sight of each other. Royal events can be very stressfull for Kitana, as she is usualy the one organzing them as Mileena is not as inclined to participate is such events, leaving Kitana with most of the organization and meddeling with the public. As such, it often leads to burning her out, so being around her lover and with her hand touching them keeps her grounded.

[violetarks]

track 30: i'd never do that

"fuck." y/n said, wiping her eyes as she turned from the crowd, walking off the stage as soon as the curtains closed. she just... couldn't stop crying. all because of some song...

"y/n..." armin said, standing at her side. he rubs her back and takes the bass from her. the crowd continues to cheer loudly, claps and chants emerging from behind the curtains. "it's okay. c'mon, let's get you—"

they were interrupted by jean standing up loudly from his seat, storming off the stage and towards their change rooms. everyone's eye fell on him, watching his forced steps as he walked passed them all and the stage crew. eren and mikasa follow after, armin and y/n walking off next.

it was only truly a week ago that they all found out about marco's death, and having to preform to avoid any more backlash. unhappy fans ruled their twitter pages due to the postponed shows, and though levi advised against returning, the five of them agreed to come back. it was work... and they couldn't stop.

although what porco said was true, it was also true that the fans had control over their jobs. they could only enjoy their work if they had those fans. and using their friend's death as an excuse was no option. they didn't want to use it, and the fans had no right to know.

it was a bump in the road, is all.

"we did well tonight." mikasa says, sitting beside y/n. she holds her hand tightly. "you two did very well."

"i fucked up the tempo in the first song, made it too fast." jean complains, laying on the other couch.

"and i forgot my part for the whole first verse and just didn't play." y/n added in, leaning her head back.

"nobody even noticed, we didn't." eren says, sitting on the armrest of jean's couch. that may have a been a tiny lie, he definitely noticed and the looks that armin and mikasa shared on stage showed so too. armin stands nearby, pouring water for everyone. eren ruffles jean's hair gently. "you two did great. don't question it."

the two become quiet, silently thinking to themselves of what to do now. they had two more shows, two more shows and they could go home. and rest, and think, and be better.

"y/n? your phone's been buzzing like crazy." armin says, looking down at your device.

"huh? it's probably twitter. pass it 'ere." you say, holding out your hand. armin passes you the phone as you stand up, grabbing tissues to wipe your face. armin takes your spot. lo and behold, you were right. "i'm gonna talk a walk, alright?"

"don't go too far, we're gonna' leave soon." eren says as you wave your hand and leave the room.

you walk through the backstage halls until you make it outside. it's a restricted area, so no fans were there. and since everyone else was packing up the stage, you were alone.

but you unlock your phone, seeing thousands of twitter notifications and a few texts from porco. you stop yourself when you feel relieved.

when did you start feeling relieved about porco? when did he start making you feel that way?

you couldn't deny that sense of happiness you felt when you saw his picture show up on screen, though. maybe you should answer him.

track 29 | track list | track 31

anime: attack on titan (band! au)

character: porco galliard

summary: y/n, the bassist of the band 'paradís', finds herself in middle of a 'publicity stunt' with none other than a rival band's drummer. porco, the mentioned member of 'marley', doesn't care about her at all. but they can only ignore each other for so long.

status: ongoing

warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns used

taglist: @makimakimi @hanmascult @ally22042000 @rozewayne2005 @keithandlevi-ontheroof @qaahnarin @queen-flower @id-rather-be-an-outsider @onlylowercase @tonysttank @a-little-pebbl @hannahalanib1 @moonshineandclearskies @aqueerincrisis @tati-the-fangirl @cheesechopchive-blog

[alientimes]

🀥 ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇꜱ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ… ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ?

➩ No good curse likes a nice view! (1)

Last thing Sukuna knew, he was being pummeled into the ground by some stupid brat and his friends. It was all an unlucky turn of fate, of course, but it still happened. He was dead. He should’ve been dead. Hell, he felt his body turn to dust. So why was he staring at a stupidly cheery blue sky in the middle of nowhere? 

Slowly, Sukuna sat up. A (rather nice, he had to admit) field of grass could always have enemies (perhaps some named Gojo) lurking in them, of course. To his disappointment, there were none. He patted himself down, noting the lack of two, rather useful, extra arms. Instead of being in his beautiful, shirtless, loose-white panted glory, he was in some stupid white t-shirt and very tight jeans. That somehow, after noticing an odd feeling under him, could fit stuff in miniscule pockets. The stuff mentioned so happened to be a wallet, and it was one he thought was way too plain to fit the king of curses. Still, he flipped it open, revealing a thick wad of green papers stuffed into yet another miniscule pocket (compared to the money). Though it wasn’t quite useful to him, as it appeared to be USD, and he was in the middle of nowhere. A flimsy card slipped out of another pocket (how many of these were there?) and after trying and failing to pick it up a couple of times, he found it was an ID card. He had seen a few of those in the brat’s body.

Since when was his name Sebastian?

How shameful. The once great, strong(est), powerful king of curses Sukuna Ryomen reduced to some random guy with pink hair, one face, and only two arms named Sebastian Ryouke. Well, at least he was still tall. And it seemed he could read English now, because he managed to puzzle his way through the entire ID card. It might need a little work, though. 

With all these downsides, Sukuna could hardly believe that this was another chance at life. Another form of punishment, maybe. But as he sat cross-legged in that field (for a little longer than he would admit, looking back on it), Sukuna came to another realization. This was a chance. Although he had never been interested in human politics, laws, and whatnot, not like Kenjaku was, he could certainly get into it now. How hard could it be to rise to the top within a couple of weeks (or months, but that was being generous)? He had thousands of years of experience. And these flimsy humans? Maybe twenty. Taking over would be easy. He could start another empire of being the best, the strongest! And this time, in an entirely different country and a new name, there would be no Gojo Satoru, Maki Zen’in, Yuta Okkotsu to stop him. There wouldn’t even be an Itadori Yuji or Fushiguro Megumi (he thought with a shudder). And would you look at that? Just past the disgustingly bright rows of flowers, a city. Not just a town, or a village. A whole city of people to manipulate. Of people to beat up. Of people to bow down to him. It was the best starting place he could think of. All he needed was to get there. Well, that and getting a place to live. It couldn’t be that hard, with all the money he had stacked up in his wallet, right?. He even had a credit card (also gained knowledge from Itadori). It was like whatever placed him here wanted him to go right back to the way he was, and it was great. This was going to be so easy. City domination would be easy. And his first step, house hunting, would be even easier.

i'm sorry it's so short 😭😭 i have school tomorrow and it's really late and this entire thing was acted on impulse 😭 next chapter will be a lot longer i promise! i'll try to get it out by next week at the latest but sadly no promises :(

[donnalawliet]

Coffee or Tea? (Five x Derek oneshot)

I really didn't like the way they handled Five's "love story" in Season 4. And even though he would have been fine without a romance too, here's my version of a Five experiencing love with a human. Not with Lila, but with Derek, Five's CIA colleague. This is set post S3 and pre S4. This is my personal addition to the Season 4 fix it movement. And even though it's set prior to that last season, I still think it counts.

I mentioned under a post that I would rather ship Five x Derek than Five x Lila. So...Here I am, doing exactly that.

Thank you @tuttle-did-it , @ashes-and-starlight and @xx-blood-lemons-xx for the initial inspiration! I hope you like it, especially you, @ashes-and-starlight . (I‘ll enjoy your Five diner fanfic when it comes out 😊)

I also wanted to thank @lookingforhappy for the post explaining why Five being a member of the CIA didn‘t make much sense. I attempted to explain some plotholes that you mentioned 😅

One last thanks goes to @i-am-tardis-locked for listening to me rambling all day, like always.

Anyway, let‘s get going!

—————————————

Summary: After being stuck in a reset universe without powers or siblings, Five joins the CIA to keep an eye on his family. There, he meets Derek and is suddenly confronted with all kinds of things he hadn't faced in years. Some of them seem uncomfortable at first, but he learns to warm up.

——————————————

Stranded in a new timeline, without his siblings or powers, Five was forced to adapt. Luckily, he was used to doing that. His father had once complimented his ability to adapt and Sir Reginald Hargreeves wasn’t exactly known for dolling out compliments for everyone and everything. In the four decades he had spent in the apocalypse, adapting to his enviroment was equal to survival. That included no longer feeling guilty for raiding corpses or no longer being picky when it came to food. The apocalypse was by no means a five star restaurant. When he transferred to the Commission, he had to adapt once more. New manners, new job, new people.

But through all of this adapting, one goal had stayed consistent. To save his family from the impending apocalypse, to go back for them. Once he left the courtyard without his siblings though, still coming to terms with the fact that he had his arm back…his goal had to adapt as well. This was no longer about actively saving his family. It was about keeping them safe. They came above everything else, not him.

Reginald had taught them a few things that back then, none of the Umbrella Academy members thought would be useful.That included obtaining legal documents, without the legal part. In the Commission, Five had sometimes watched the legal department, how they fabricated fake IDs, court orders or other documents with ease.

And even though he was nowhere near that level, he was good enough. It took him about a week to create an ID, a birth certificate and a high school diploma. All of it was a lot of work. He sometimes had to break into buildings to add himself to their records, but he didn’t care. It would be worth it in the long run.

————————————

Attending college was relatively easy in comparison, bordering on boring. Five’s father had prepared them quite well for that level of learning and in the apocalypse, he had become an expert on math and quantum physics. So a lot of the lectures ended up just being a formality.

Instead of writing things down, Five occupied himself with looking up his family. Allison was in LA with her husband, daughter and Klaus. Luther had found a new place of employment, along with Diego, who had welcomed his first daughter with Lila. Five quickly wiped at his eyes as soon as he read the announcement in the online newspaper. As much as he wished to be an uncle, he couldn’t. Not just yet.

Five finished college in record time. He didn’t attend the ceremony, even though a part of him wanted to. Only the weak need praise to carry on, he remembered his father’s words. And he didn’t have time to be weak. He had a job to do.

————————————

Protecting his siblings required sacrifices and overcoming personal challenges. That was something Five had realised a long time ago. But when he sent his application to the CIA, that realisation hit him like a ton of bricks once more. he roughly knew what a job like that was like. It required absolute loyalty, going undercover, a physical and psychological examination. All of it reminded him of the Commission. He would have an employer again, be stuck in an office instead of enjoying retirement.

Upon receiving his acceptance letter and the request to move to Washington DC for his training, Five slowly walked into his bathroom to look in the mirror. His fake birth certificate stated that he was 18, but in truth his body had just turned 16. Upon looking at his reflection though, he didn’t see himself. He saw an old man, traumatised by years of isolation and lack of things like food or personal hygiene.

“It’s going to be okay“, he whispered to himself, though it didn’t sound very convincing, “As long as they’re alright…it will be worth it.“

————————————

Throughout his training, Five felt an odd sense of numbness. He expected to feel disgusted by how much it reminded him of his training at the Academy or Commission. But there was nothing of the sort. No sense of anger towards the profiler during his psych eval, which he passed with flying colours. He knew what answers he had to give in order to be left alone. Five remembered how much the Commission profiler had bothered him, how he had hated getting his deepest insides get revealed in astonishing detail, until he had learned how to adapt.

But he felt nothing. Neither the obstacle course, examinations by a doctor or profiler really bothered him. He just went through the daily routine, like a zombie with just one goal. There was no anxiety when his test results arrived nor joy when the other cadets celebrated upon passing them. In what felt like a blink of an eye, his training was over and he was assigned jobs. And that was when he met Derek.

————————————

When Director Ribbons had announced that he wouldn’t be working alone, Five had been hesitant at first. Even back in the Commission, he had always insisted on working alone. No partner to bother him or distract him from his plans. But while the Handler had accepted this violation of protocoll, the Director didn’t.

“You’re a new and promising agent“, Ribbons had told him, without offering Five a seat to sit down in, “And despite your maturity, a partner will do you good, I’m sure of it. On undercover missions, you may go on your own, but I don’t see a reason for it in the office.“

Five bit his lip and shifted slightly. He liked being able to wear a suit again instead of the uniform that showed his knees to everyone. In a suit, people were forced to take him more seriously in some way.

“Sir, while I understand what you mean“, he hated having to take on a polite tone like that, “I really do work better alone. I’ll produce good results.“

Five wasn’t a fan of the whole respect game. But in order to stay employed, he unfortunately had to treat his boss with some level of respect, despite being much older.

Ribbons looked him over for a moment. Sometimes, Five had the feeling that his boss saw more than just an agent, but he couldn’t quite place it. Despite his request, he shook his head.

“You’ll be working with a partner. Go to your desk, he’s already waiting for you.“

Five had no other choice but to obey that order. If he protested more, it could result in another psych eval or unnecessary questions. So he simply nodded and made his way towards his desk, pushing the intrusive thoughts on how to quickly kill his boss out of his head. Ever since he had started to work at the Commission a few years ago, these thoughts refused to go away.

————————————

As soon as he entered his room, a young man stood up from his chair. If Five had to guess, he was only a few years older than himself, dressed in a dark green blazer, with a tie and light blue shirt underneath it. More casual than Five’s three piece suit, but still professional. His blonde hairstyle reminded Five a bit of the 1950s, but the glasses and soft facial features broke that illusion. Only a few seconds after entering did Five notice that he had been staring. His mind was really all over the place.

“I’m Derek Young“, his visitor eventually said after no introduction from Five came, “I’m your new partner, pleasure to meet you.“

He held out his hand to shake, a soft smile illuminating his features. Only then did Five regain his senses and shook his hand, making eye contact for the first time. He still wasn’t completely comfortable with touch, the sensation sometimes proved too much.

“Five, Hargreeves“, he replied, keeping it short and with no explanation on why he shared his last name with one of the most well known people in the world. Derek didn’t seem bothered by that cold introduction though, still smiling.

“Our boss told me quite a lot about you, Mr.Hargreeves“, Derek remarked while sorting through one of the files on the desk.

Five froze for a few moments. Not because of the first part of the sentence, he had heard that one many times. But never in his whole life had he been called Mr.Hargreeves by anyone. His siblings had called him Five, his father Number Five, the Handler and everyone at the Commission either those or Mr.Five on the rare occasion. But never Mr.Hargreeves. It didn’t feel like him, even though he was surely old enough to be called that. Still…it didn’t feel right.

“Please don’t call me that, Mr.Derek“, he told him, trying to keep his voice firm, but only being half successful. Five scolded himself for how weak he sounded. Why did a simple name break his mind?

Derek frowned for a moment, then shrugged like it was nothing.

“Very well. Is Mr.Five alright with you?“, he asked, almost carefully that time, as if testing out the waters, “Since you call me Mr.Derek.“

He had expected to not like that way of adressing him either. The Handler had called him that after all. And every time he thought of her, his stomach flipped upside down in not a good way. But surprisingly, Five felt oddly fine with it. Derek’s voice and body language was nothing like his former employer, there was no need to be alarmed in any way. He didn’t have to look up at him like he had always had to do with her and everyone else, they were roughly the same height. Five pulled himself out of his thoughts and shrugged.

“Sure, why the hell not. Do you know where in the building I can find a decent cup of coffee?“

The rush of caffeine always helped Five with distracting himself. No falling asleep, no nightmares, just work.

————————————

At first, Five had assumed that Derek would annoy him. He was much younger after all, there were still things like hope and life left in his eyes. His partner went to work with the genuine intention of helping others. He got Five coffee every morning, while he himself stuck with tea. And even though Five could never understand how one could prefer hot leaf juice over some roasted black coffee, he had to admit that Derek brought him some good coffee.

“Which machine do you go to?“, he asked one morning after taking his first sip, “No matter which part of the building I go to, all coffee tastes like absolute crap.“

Five wasn’t one for making small talk, so Derek was a bit caught off guard by the genuine curiosity. A light blush began to settle down on his cheeks and he cleared his throat a bit.

“I…I bring the coffee blend with me. I can give you the adress of the shop I go to, if that’s what you want, Mr.Five. It’s no big deal, I just thought you might enjoy it more. I can’t stand the tea they give out here either“, he replied and hid part of his face with his teacup.

For the first time in what felt like years, Five’s lip tugged upwards. It took him a moment to realise that he was smiling in  a genuine way, like an idiot. But he couldn’t bring himself to stop, a comforting warmth building up in his chest. He could barely remember the last time someone had genuinely cared about him in such a small way. Derek didn’t even like coffee, yet he brought a good blend of it to work, just so Five would feel a bit happier. The warmth in his chest moved upwards, settling in his cheeks in a similar way to Derek. He was blushing like a hormonal teenager, which he both was and wasn’t.

“Oh, I…Thank you“, he eventually managed to mumble, “That’s very kind of you. I’ll just…Go talk to our boss, he wanted something.“

Five quickly made his way out of the room, taking a few deep breaths as he leaned against the nearest wall. Ribbons didn’t even want anything, but he had needed an excuse to gather his bearings.

“Shit…get yourself together“, he whispered to himself, the taste of coffee still present on his tongue. And like every time he felt upset or overwhelmed, the last words of his former wife, Dolores, echoed through his mind: I want you to enjoy your life, Five. We had good years together, but it’s time that you learn to live without me. You fought so hard for your family, it’s time that you enjoy the results.

Five reached up as a single tear traced down his cheek, quickly wiping it away. He was a grown man, why was he so overwhelmed by this? He decided to avoid Derek for the rest of the day, he needed time to think.

————————————

A few weeks later, Five learned that if he wanted to, Derek could be just as sarcastic as he was. Ever since he had started working there, Susan had been a figurative pain in everyone‘s ass. But because she was a senior agent with a long history, almost no one dared say anything about it. One day, while waiting for their turn on the copier, she began to rant about all kinds of problems plaguing her. Five had to seriously focus on not snapping her neck, so he kept his mouth shut.

“Anyway, my son just introduced me to his boyfriend. Boyfriend?! He’s a man, how can he be attracted to another man? That’s not how it works!“, Susan exclaimed and looked at them, expecting nods or general confirming words.

Derek crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked her up and down. Five knew that look. He had given it to several idiots before.

“So you’re saying one should rather fall in love with a body than with a soul? That’s really shallow and sad“, he said and gave her a fake look of pity before grabbing the files from the desk next to the copier. While Susan still scrambled for words, Five turned towards Derek with surprise.

“Did you…Did you just…?“, he asked, lost for words for once. In response, Derek simply shrugged, a confident smile on his face.

“Somebody had to tell her, she was annoying me. Why, do you have a problem with that, Mr.Five?“

That last sentence had a certain edge to it, as if Derek was either scared or prepared that Five would say yes. However, Five shook his head almost immediately. He had been more surprised than anything else.

“No, not at all. Maybe she’ll keep her damn mouth shut for a few hours“, Five quickly deflected, still processing what had just happened. After that short conversation, they just continued with their day as if nothing had happened.

————————————

Later that evening, while reviewing his family’s files, Five’s thoughts began to wander once more. During the apocalypse, he had never really thought about his sexuality. He had Dolores, but she barely counted as a woman. He had never really felt the desire to have sex, he had more desired to just see a familiar face. Any human face, if he was being honest with himself. And the tough survival conditions didn’t leave much room to think about what he was attracted to. When he closed his eyes, he realised that he could see himself with a woman by his side just as easily as with a man.

And even though he knew how sex worked, the thought of himself having sex with anyone whatsoever left him disgusted. He vaguely remembered telling Klaus in 2019: What a disturbing glance into this thing you call a brain, when he had mentioned the topic.

Before his thoughts could go off the rails even more, Five pulled himself back to the present. He had to make sure his siblings were safe, that was why he had taken the job in the first place.

————————————

After a rather frustrating case that had taken weeks and almost made him bang his head against a wall, Five was exhausted, so was Derek.

“Would you like to catch some drinks later?“, Derek asked him as they both gathered their coats. It sounded so casual, in a way that Five could never do himself. In the last few years, Five had attempted to lower his alcohol intake, but he hadn’t completely succeeded in stopping completely.

“Oh, sure, but…I’m not a big fan of bars“, Five responded, sounding almost ashamed. He had gone to bars before, but had never been completely comfortable there. It had almost always been for work. He half expected Derek to decline as a result, mentally cursing himself for being so uptight. But surprisingly, that didn’t happen.

“That’s fine. We can go to my place, if you’d like. I don’t mind it, Mr.Five“, he said with a wink. That name had almost become a form of teasing that they used with each other. Five smirked a bit and put on his coat, a way of protecting himself from the cold November air.

“Lead the way, Mr.Derek.“

People had different types of reactions when they got drunk. Some got more angry and violent, others sad and melancholic, others happy and joyful. Five got more honest after a few drinks, dropping his walls a bit more. And after a few homemade martinis, he found himself relaxing a bit more.

“You’re quite nice“, he mumbled and took another sip from his glass, “Nicer than my family by a long shot. Why? What do you have to gain?“

Derek frowned and sat down on the couch next to him. His drinks had far less alcohol, so he was just feeling a bit tipsy.

“I’m not nice to you because I have something to gain, Five. Why would you think something like that?“ His voice got a bit softer, as if he felt that there was more behind that drunk question.

Five laughed in response, but it held no humor whatsoever. He was overwhelmed by all kinds of different feelings and thoughts.

“Because I’m a rude old man? Because I’ve never done anything to warrant friendliness from someone like you? You’re young, you could just ask for a transfer with someone who is…more like you.“ Five couldn’t care less that he had just hinted at his true age. If Derek left, it would just confirm his world view.

Derek blinked slowly as he listened to Five ramble. He couldn’t completely make sense of what he was saying, but asking would feel quite rude. So after a few seconds of silence, he set his glass down.

“You may come off as rude, yeah, but…That’s not who you are. Remember how you almost ripped Stacy’s head off because she called me a twink? You didn’t even know what it meant at the time“, Derek chuckled a bit and managed to get Five to smile as well, “I don’t care how old you are or how grumpy you can get without coffee. You deserve to be treated well.“

Five stared at him for what felt like hours, but was probably just a few seconds. He wasn’t even sure what his expression his face was making, he could be crying for all he knew. The last time he had felt close to that safe had been with Dolores in an underground bunker they had found.

He didn’t remember what came after, the alcohol sending his memory to nirvana. The next thing that Five knew, he woke up on a dark green couch underneath a knitted blanket. His head was pounding as if he was Zeus giving birth to Athena and the thirst was overwhelming. At the same time, the thought of moving was enough to make him groan.

“Shit…“, Five mumbled and lazily covered his eyes to avoid the sunlight. With it being November, that meant it must be quite late.

“Here you go“, he suddenly heard Derek’s soft voice right next to him. Slowly, Five moved his arm off his face and blinked up at him. The room was a bit darker now, thanks to the curtains. Derek was standing behind the couch so Five didn’t have to move his head too much, wearing his blue shirt without the tie or blazer. His hair wasn’t styled as neatly, it just looked fluffy and soft. But before Five could think about his hair further, his attention was drawn to what Derek was holding. A glass of water and a pill bottle, most likely aspirin.

“You’re my salvation“, Five mumbled and took both. The act of sitting up alone made him groan, but the feeling of cold water sliding down his throat made up for it. “What happened last night? After that…conversation we had.“

Derek cleared his throat a bit and sat down next to him on the couch, his expression unreadable.

“You had two more drinks, talked about your age, your ex wife, your siblings…then you threw up in my potted plant and passed out on my couch“, he explained and brushed his hair a bit more into place, “That’s it, I think.“

Five groaned and leaned back into the pillow that Derek had provided him with. He felt like he had ruined everything. The first casual relationship he had ever managed to build up with a human being that wasn’t his family or someone he had been tasked with assassinating…and he had destroyed it with alcohol.

“Shit…I really ranted a lot, didn’t I?“, he whispered, but Derek could still hear it, “I…I should go, I understand. I overstayed my welcome.“

He attempted to push himself up, his muscles aching from the hangover and hard couch he had been laying on. Though something inside of his chest ached as well. Before Five could stand up, Derek stopped him. The feeling of a hand on his shoulder was enough to make him freeze.

“Mr.Five, that’s not what I meant. You obviously needed to talk about it“, Derek took a deep breath as he looked him over, “And even though I didn’t understand half of it…You don’t need to feel ashamed.“

His words washed over Five like a wave, most of his focus still spent on the simple touch. He wanted to both pull away, overwhelmed by this simple act of comfort, but also lean into it like a starving man in the desert. So he ended up doing neither, just standing there until Derek pulled away again. Five wanted to say so much, but no words made it up his throat and through his lips. After a long and pregnant pause, he simply nodded and made his way out of the appartment. Derek didn’t stop him that time.

————————————

They didn’t talk about that incident for quite some time. For a few months, they went about their daily routine, making small jokes in between, drinking coffee and tea together in the morning. Until eventually, Five mentioned it again.

“What I said about my age, Dolores and my family…did it bother you?“

They were in the middle of sorting through reports, arguably the most boring part of their job, where it sometimes became necessary to fill the silence. Derek only glanced up for a moment before he grabbed his stapler off the desk.

“Why should it? You always seemed…more mature than others. And I’ve known about your family for months. I go through your files just as much as you go through mine.“

Five blushed a bit at the last remark. It was true, he had searched through Derek’s files on a regular basis. Maybe out of paranoia that he was working for the Commission somehow, even though that wouldn’t make much sense. And to know that Derek was doing the same…it strangely grounded him a bit.

As they continued to work in silence, Five’s mind went back to that morning when Derek had touched his shoulder. It hadn’t been an accidental or manipulative touch, it had just been a simple expression of human emotions. He recalled one time when he had been four years old, still thinking that parents were the heroes children made them out to be. They had watched a movie in which a son had hugged his father and his toddler mind had decided to recreate it. But instead of hugging him back, Reginald had pushed him away and sent him to bed without dessert.

Never trust a hug, he had sternly told his adoptive son, For it’s just another way to hide your face.

Ever since then, he hadn’t attempted to hug another human being. But that had been over five decades ago, surely it couldn’t hurt to…

“Could I try something?“, Five broke the silence once more. He hated how uncertain and young he sounded, like a teenager or child, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Derek noticed his different tone too, but decided not to comment on it. During the entire time that they had worked with each other, he had noticed that some things took more out of Five than the average person. So he simply nodded and stood up as Five approached, his arms hanging loosely at his sides until he realised what the other man was planning. Once the realisation dawned on him, he couldn’t hold back a smirk and lift his arms slightly.

It took Five a few seconds to bring himself to lean into the hug. The second that he did, fireworks went off in his brain. Sparks of colour and noise, all blending together into one picture. It was overwhelming, but he needed more. It was beautiful and hurt his eyes at the same time.

For just a few moments, everything melted away and time stood still. This wouldn’t heal all of his wounds by any means. He was still damaged, maybe beyond complete repair. But it was a start at least, a bandage on his cuts so they wouldn’t get infected. Even though he knew it wouldn’t last, Five allowed himself to feel happy, just for a few seconds.

————————————

During one of his days off, while watching a movie that Allison had recommended to him, Five’s phone buzzed. Strange, his siblings never texted him. They always called, ever since the attemp at a group chat had gone south. So he unlocked his phone and glanced at the text.

Derek: Hey, 5.  The pipes in my appartment burst and it will take a few days until it’s fixed. Would you mind if I maybe crashed on your couch?

For a few seconds, Five contemplated his choices. He could just say no, spare himself the trouble. But on the other hand…he wouldn’t mind not being alone for a few days.

Five: Sure, just stop by. You know the address, right?

Instead of getting a written response, he simply received an emoji of a hand holding its thumb up. Five still hadn’t completely understood the appeal of those modern hieroglyphics. He really was an old man.

Derek arrived not even half an hour later, carrying a bag that held the bare essentials. A few changes of clothes, toiletries and a book or two for entertainment. Five was sitting on the couch, on which he had placed a spare blanket and pillow for him. One cup of coffe rested in his hands and on the small table in front of him…

“You made me tea?“, Derek asked as he set his bag down and went to join him on the couch. The TV was on, playing a movie that he recognised as Brokeback Mountain. Normally he had always been the one to prepare their drinks and he hadn’t minded it either.

Five nodded, fiddling with his own fingers as he watched him pick up the cup. He had been a bit nervous about getting it right. Tea wasn’t his department after all. But the way Derek exhaled after taking his first sip, he knew that he must have done something right.

“Thank you, I appreciate it“, Derek smiled and kept his hands around the warm mug as he inhaled the familiar scent of green tea. It was quite comforting, just like Five’s presence next to him.

As the movie progressed, they both ended up shifting a bit more towards the middle of the couch. Sometimes Derek moved, sometimes Five did, almost like a dance, until they eventually touched shoulders. Five found himself relaxing sooner than the previous timest hey had touched.

When Derek’s hand moved to cover his own, he didn’t stop him, looking forward at the screen. It was slightly overwhelming, but nothing he couldn’t handle. During the climax of the movie however, Five gulped heavily and slowly turned towards Derek, who did the same.

“I’m way too old for you“, he attempted to lighten the mood, but it came out much weaker and desperate. At this point he could see every little detail of Derek’s eyes, the way the colours mixed together, every little imperfection and vein.

Derek cleared his throat slightly, for once not as light hearted. He seemed not as clueless as Five, but hesitant nonetheless. The coffee and tea on the table had been forgotten long ago.

“Your age is the least of my concerns right now“, he whispered back and readjusted his glasses before he repeated the same words that Five had said to him a few months ago, “Could I try something?“

At that point, Five felt like he was drowning. He felt lost, a sensation he had become rather familiar with. He could end this all with one simple word or one shake of his head, for he knew that Derek would respect his consent. But at the same time, he didn’t want to let this opportunity go. So despite not having taken in a breath for almost a minute, he found himself nodding.

Their lips didn’t touch. It wasn’t a desperate kiss like in romance movies meant for teenagers. Instead, it was a soft kiss on his cheek that he felt…warm and without the pressure to do more, not that Five would want that. Like a ray of sunshine warming his skin in the morning, right before the worries of life fully registered in his mind. Derek smiled as Five practically melted into the touch, pulling away after a few seconds.

“Good?“, he asked carefully, just to make sure he hadn’t gone too far. Five smiled a bit and brushed his chaotic hair back behind his ears.

“Yeah, good“, Five simply replied and pulled his legs up against his chest. He wasn’t sure whether he would ever be ready for a proper kiss or saying the three words that seemed to fall from people’s lips so easily. But that maybe wasn’t necessary. They communicated that through other means. Like how Derek prepared Five’s coffee in the morning or how Five’s expression lit up when his desk partner entered the room.

————————————

On the first of October in 2025, they decided to move in with each other. Five teased that it was merely to reduce costs, since they spent most of the time in Derek’s appartment anyway. It had much more life than Five’s place, with small things that made it feel like home. And getting his coffee before work certainly had its advantages. Derek simply smiled at that explanation, not bothering to engage in a meaningless discussion. Instead, he grabbed his coat and handed Five his cup.

“Happy Birthday, Mr.Five“, he said with a wink before heading off to work, leaving a frozen Five behind.

————————————

A few days after his birthday, Five started his investigation into the Keepers support group. Going undercover meant that he had to put on a disguise, so he went for a mix of Top Gun enthusiast and school janitor. The mustache had been his idea, mainly because he missed the facial hair he used to have. It at least made him look a bit older.

Derek chuckled the first time he saw him in disguise. It wasn’t clear whether he was simply amused or making fun of Five.

“What?“

Five couldn’t help but sound a bit defensive. He hadn’t gone completely over the top, right? No, this was simply a cover, for security purposes.

Derek stepped forward, carefully tracing the mustache and making sure it was secure. Five sometimes got figuratively sick at how soft he looked with such simple gestures.

“Nothing. I think it works, Mr.Five“, he responded and looked him over from top to bottom, “You should get going now or you’ll be late.“

Of course, Five couldn’t have that. He still had work to do. By going on undercover missions, he could rise through the ranks and gain more information on how to keep his siblings safe. But despite all of that…At the end of the day, enjoying coffee or tea wouldn’t hurt.

————————————

I hoped you enjoyed this oneshot! I certainly enjoyed writing it, distracting myself from the mess we got in Season 4.

If you liked it, leave a like or a comment. It really makes my day and encourages me to keep going. Also, I would have an idea for a smaller additional chapter, set during Season 4. It would also have some angst. Would you be interested in that? If you are, let me know!

Until next time,

-Donna Lawliet

[drdemonprince]

I think when it comes to understanding & becoming a better accomplice for people who experiences marginalizations that you do not experience, a combination of humility, curiosity, and the willingness to develop your own knowledge and discernment is a whole lot more helpful in the long run than the kind of performative air of “i know that i will never know or understand what you go through and i am just here to learn from you, person whose suffering i am implying confers inherent wisdom (and i will always be terrified of you ever disagreeing with or correcting me)” that so many liberal people espouse. 

like. at some point if you are actually listening to a wide array of people who experience an oppression, you do actually learn some things about how it operates, and you identify some parallels with your own experience. that doesnt mean you can ever be an expert on say, what racism feels like if youre a white person, but you can understand how racism operates as an ideology and the systems it feeds into and you have a responsibility to speak to that once you do. 

some liberal people seem to believe that any form of oppression they do not personally experience is one that they can never understand and should never really speak to with any degree of confidence, but if you actually want to advocate for trans liberation as a cis person, or anti racism as a white person, etc, you do have to actually become competent in the subject and show signs of that competence. you might even disagree with individual people who experience that oppression about what the strategies and tactics ought to be for battling it sometimes! that too is a sign of deeper thinking about the topic and fundamental respect for marginalized people as full humans with full human variability. 

id much rather have a reasoned discussion with an engaged cis person about, say, whether we should be advocating for an informed consent model or for full deregulation of hrt than have some simpering ally buttering me up with platitudes about how much they support me and how they dont want to offend me and then focusing all their organizing energy on some symbolic shit that none of us ever said we wanted, such as mandatory pronoun listing at work