"I want to tell you something."
Thomas speaks the words into the quiet of the kitchen. He stares down at the pot of water sitting on the stove. The burner has been lit, and the heat rises. Soon, the water will boil.
"And it's- it's something that I've thought for a long time now. Years. But I've never said anything."
The smallest of bubbles rise to the surface. Over his shoulder, Thomas can see Patton sitting at the bar.
"It's okay. Take your time," he says. His nose scrunches up as he smiles. His glasses reflect a scattering of kitchen light.
Thomas snorts. "I think years is enough time." He breaks a bundle of pasta in half, letting them fall gently into the steaming water. He adjusts the temperature, then shifts on his feet. "I've just...never said anything," he repeats.
"You don't have to say anything at all." Janus sits at the bar instead. He wears a frown, and he's leaned over the surface with his chin in a propped palm, but the patience in his gaze belays his bored demeanor. "If you don't want to, you don't have to. I certainly won't force you."
Want to? No.
Thomas shakes his head and stirs the pot. "I think I need to."
"Do you?" Logan sits at the bar. His arms are folded over his tie, but it's not an intimidating pose. It's careful. Considerate. "I'd like you to take a moment to 'check yourself before you wreck yourself', as they say. Is that how you use that phrase?"
Thomas rolls his eyes, and yet he's smiling. This is a heavy topic, but it's not constricting. He stirs the noodles easily and they begin to fold together like they were made to. "I'm okay. I don't need to think about it more. I'm not anxious, not really."
"Yeah?" And now it's Virgil sitting at the bar. He stops as if he had been caught in the middle of playing with the string of his hoodie. Then he smooths down the front of his clothes. No ruffles here. He nods. "Good. That's good. That's good, right?"
Thomas still smiles. "Yes, that's good." The pasta softens as it swirls around the water. Round and round it goes. When will it stop? Nobody knows.
"Well don't just keep me in suspense!" Remus slams his hand down on the bar. And then he does it again and again, maybe just to hear the smack, smack, smack. He's not grinning maniacally or anything. Just a quirk of his mustache. A glint in his eyes. A cocked brow. "You know I love a good tease... but this is playing too coy!"
Thomas heaves a huge sigh. "I guess I just..." He trails off. He knocks the spoon against the pot's rim to shake off the water. He sets it aside. "I just don't want this to change anything."
The warmth of the burner blankets his face. The stove vent thrums above his head, and distantly Thomas hears the air conditioner click on. A light sheen of perspiration beads across his face, but its not wholly unpleasant.
Would it be bad? If this did change anything?
Roman sits at the bar. His shoulders are low, like all the breath has left him. He watches Thomas calmly with sad eyes. "What have you got to lose?"
In the pot, the pasta swirls and swirls until it's ready.
"I love you," Thomas finally says, and he turns to look over his shoulder to find that it's himself who sits there.
The other him beams proudly. "That wasn't so hard, now was it?"
Satisfied, Thomas flicks off the stove burner and drains the water in the sink. He stirs together noodles, hamburger meat, and red sauce, until its in perfect measures, just the way he likes it.
After making himself a plate, Thomas sits at the dining table. He is alone with himself, and he's alright with that.
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You know the fighting between the “Cecil is a key part of Tumblrsexyman history and should therefore get the title of Tumblrsexyman” side and the “Reigen is allowed to do anything he wants so long as it’s funny and should therefore get the title of Tumblrsexyman” side is exactly they type of fighting I wanted out of these polls, like are you committed to Tumblr history or are you a bit silly? Both options are so valid and also so wrong and I hope there’s bloodshed over this, and I love that no one is fighting over Sans vs The Once-ler like gUYS.
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When I get morning delulu I always think about the idea of Jason giving you an early morning back massage. His big strong hands rubbing circles into your soft skin and muscle, causing you to moan into the pillow. It's not his fault he ends up getting hard, grinding against your sweet ass as one hand slides down to your clit making you moan louder. Hell, not even three minutes later he's pounding you harder and harder into his sheets.
The thought comforts me every morning fr fr.
I AM SCREAMING I AM FERAL ANON I WILL BE THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR DAYS!!!
mdni!!!
okay so maybe you workout the previous day and you're sore all over and jason decided to give you a back massage just because he's an amazing boyfriend (he totally doesn't have any hidden intentions at all)
his hands are so big and firm and he just pressed onto that sore spot very nicely that a moan just slip past your lips and jason's like very hyper aware of the sound now and immediately he feels himself grow hard. He starts pressing your back a little bit hard pulling out more moans from you and that point he just pressed himself against your ass and now you're moaning not just because of his hands.
the next thing you know your shorts/sweatpants was pulled down and jason starts thrusting his hips, pulling your ass up with one hand on your hips and the other rubbing your clit vigorously and all you could feel now is jason stretching and filling you up so deliciously, hitting that spot inside that just makes you drool and mewl, and his fingers rubbing so harsh, it makes your toes curled and your fingers clutched against the pillow.
and by the time both of you were done, let's just say you were sore for a completely different reason now
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