#And that's bound to add up no matter how he may feel about himself

[exuvianen]

dating hc's with dr. ratio, aventurine + blade!

headcanons about what these hsr men do in a relationship witth you <3

cw: x reader, gn! reader (no physical descriptions), mostly fluff, sfw, headcanon style

notes: hsr brainrot… ahahaha... i hope i have a fairly good grasp on these characters and wrote them well. 

wc: ~1050 words, around 350 words per character. all under the cut!

feel free to drop an ask or to add on to my thoughts! likes + rbs are appreciated  <3

✎ Dr. Ratio:

He likes parallel play, or being alone together with you. He works on his own projects, like grading papers or writing a new thesis while you’re doing your own thing, like playing video games or reading. Occasionally, he might ask you for your input, such as ideas about his next thesis or what pose he should sculpt himself into next. 

He has a spare desk and chair for you in his office. You can choose to do work or entertain yourself there when you visit him and he’s still teaching a lecture, but feel free to take a nap on the plush sofa he bought just for you. 

He will nag you about your health but in an annoyingly endearing way. He fusses over you, telling you about appropriate attire for today’s weather, offering you an umbrella, and reminding you to drink water. 

He entertains all your ideas, no matter how silly or illogical. He’ll hear you out on anything you say, though he might have some very strong disagreements or objections to your ideas, especially if they are silly or completely nonsensical. However, he never turns you away when you bound up to him with a mischievous gleam in your eyes - he just sighs and prepares himself mentally to hear whatever goofiness comes out of your mouth. 

He’s your biggest cheerleader, supporter, and advocate. Though he may come off as intimidating, he is always willing to help advance your career or work. He has many connections and vast knowledge of the universe after all - why not utilize them for his beloved? 

He’s very good at dispelling any irrational thoughts in your head. If you’re panicking and your mind is disoriented, he’ll sit next to you and hold your hand gently, but firmly to ground you. He doesn’t speak at all when you vent out all your frustration, confusion, or anger - rather, he’s silently contemplative and then asks questions when you finish talking. He’ll indirectly guide you to a solution while gently calming you down as he dispels those pesky thoughts from your head.

He makes a custom alabaster head for you. 

♤ Aventurine:

A big fan of matching accessories and clothing. You don’t need to wear the exact same outfit, but he likes wearing complementary colors and jewelry to yours.

If you’d like, he’d be more than happy to bring you to casinos and public events with him. He wants to show off to you and let you witness his wit, talent, and skill like a peacock presenting its colorful feathers. 

He likes it a lot when you trace his skin through the spade-shaped hole in his outfit.

He hates the feeling of being vulnerable, but he likes being around you. This creates conflicting emotions inside of him. Oftentimes, he doesn’t know how to deal with it and just lurks by you. Pull him into a hug to quiet the voices in his head. 

He will send you packages or luxury items from the planets he’s visiting. You’ll be greeting a disgruntled Topaz or IPC soldiers at your door as they hand you various gifts ranging from limited-edition jewelry to flowers that bloom only once every 200 amber eras. He gifts extremely grand things, but he always knows how to find things that suit your tastes.

He’s a big spender on you. If you’re unused to the amount of money he’s willing to throw at you, he’s going to give you a lot of “exposure therapy” with his generosity. He’ll invite you to private auctions, lavish galas, luxury boutiques, and high-end jewelry stores. He’ll start filling your wardrobe with tailor-made clothes with the excuse that you should match his outfits when you attend formal events together, but his clothing contributions eventually infiltrate your closet pretty deeply. 

He enjoys being pampered and pampering you. Self-care nights are a must - as a representative of the IPC and one of the ten Stonehearts, he has to keep himself presentable and looking sharp, and that goes for his partner too! He’s more than happy to spend money to fund your trips to the salon or buy you any beauty products to use at home. He’d love to put on face masks together and share a drink or two with you. 

☠︎︎ Blade:

If you want to, and Elio’s script permits, he will bring you along on missions to safer planets. He’ll drop you off at a commercial district - feel free to go shopping or try out some novelty food while he wraps up his Stellaron Hunter business.

He likes getting his hair brushed. One of his favorite activities is sitting down and letting you comb through his hair after he cleans up from a mission. It’s an activity that leaves him vulnerable, but he doesn’t mind if it’s with you.

He’s an acts of service kind of guy. He moves to take your bags before you even say anything, holds open doors, and pulls out chairs for you. Brings you a cup of water and some fruit when you’ve been working for too long, and silently drapes his jacket over you when you shiver.

Tell him you like a certain pastry and he’ll show up every day and bring some. Show him a picture of a pretty flower and he’s boarding a spaceship to bring the flower to you personally. If you want something, he’ll do his best to get it.

He’s pretty quiet, but he’ll remember everything you say, what your preferences are, and what you like. He secretly writes it down in case his memory gets murky, and he’ll often reread his notes to remind himself.

He gives simple but traditional gifts to you, such as jade bracelets and pendants, and combs and hairpins if you have longer hair to wear or use them.*

He’ll treasure anything you gift to him. If you make an accessory for him, he wears it at all times. If your gift is small enough, he’ll stow it safely in his pockets and take it everywhere with him.

If family is important to you, he’ll send funds their way and ensure that they’re taken care of. 

As someone who’s often dead and then undead, his body can get stiff. He’ll enjoy it immensely if you massage him, and accompany him for his daily stretches and calisthenics. Even if you just hold him for a while, he finds that his muscles will relax from the warmth emitting from your body. Therefore, he quite appreciates having you physically near him.

* Combs, hairpins, Jade bracelets, and pendants were given as tokens of love and affection in Ancient China. These gifts have a deeper meaning/symbolism, but for the sake of post length, I did not write them all out. 

#exuvia works #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x you #aventurine x reader #dr.ratio x reader #hsr headcanons #blade x reader #honkai star rail headcanons #hsr blade #hsr aventurine #hsr dr.ratio #ratio x reader #veritas x reader #veritas ratio x reader

[delicatebarness]

i think he knows | chapter one

Summary: A few days have passed since your eyes met, and now, after waiting for him to come, he's finally in front of you again. However, someone isn't happy about his return.

Warnings: None I don't think for this one. If you believe there is any that I should add please let me know.

Word Count: 1716

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A/N: I finished writing this before even looking at any notes or feedback from the prologue, I think I'm going to enjoy writing this one.

Tags: @bigtreefest

Lunchtime chatter was buzzing around the cafeteria while you sat at your usual table, you had tried to distract your mind from your encounter with Bucky the previous week by pulling out your newest book. You couldn't read it, every time you tried to finish the chapter, you'd glace back to where he was sat. The seat had not been occupied by him since that day. His smirking face, the piercing blue gaze. Your thoughts couldn’t help but wonder back, it was as if he had cast a spell straight out of your fantasy books. It drew you in no matter your efforts to resist it. 

Across the room, at his usual table, Steve sat with his friends and Sharon. The protective instincts were always on high alert in busy areas, the school’s cafeteria was no exception. Scanning the crows for any signs of trouble, he’d glance over at you every few minutes to ensure you were okay. Since he witnessed Bucky gaze upon you last week, he’s felt uneasy. 

Bucky, as if on cue, entered the cafeteria alone. His group of friends are nowhere to be seen, strange as they are normally bound to the hips. He made his way over to your table, sitting directly opposite you rather than a few tables away. Your eyes adjusted to the shape of him in front of you, once again a smirk appearing over his lips. As far as you had been aware, you’d never been this close to him. The smell of the intertwining scent of cigarettes and the metallic tang from exhaust fumes, a scent that would usually make her nose crinkle and try to avoid, filled the air between you. It was far from your vanilla buttercream shower essentials, but, you couldn’t help but feel enchanted by it. 

“Hey, Sunshine,” The nickname was drawn out as he readjusted himself on the stool, leaning closer towards you. “Have you been missing me?”

Your pulse began racing at the sound of his voice, how was this the first time you’d heard it? And, it’s taunting you. You knew you should have asked him to leave, not only did she not want to be rude to him, but there was something about his presence that you couldn’t resist. There wasn’t a second that you felt uncomfortable or in any sort of danger, he had a warmth about him. Either that, or, you had inhaled too much for his scent. 

Before you could speak up, Steve appeared at the end of the table, clearing his throat. The tension between you and Bucky had been cut, not realizing until now how hot you were getting under his gaze. “Is there a problem here?” He asked while looking at you, if it wasn’t for the hostility in his tone then you’d of never realized the question was toward Bucky. 

Unfazed by Steve and his presence, Bucky chuckled at him. “No problem’s here, Cap.” Steve rolled his eyes at the nickname, another taunt from Bucky, this time a taunt at the legacy Steve had created for himself. Not one that sets butterflies off in your stomach. You switched your gaze between the two, a nervous glance at each of them. Your loyalty to your brother had always been at the forefront of your mind. He was another part of you, he was who you looked up to for almost everything. But, you were growing an attraction to Bucky. It may be playing with fire, but you couldn’t help it. It was warm and inviting. 

Neither of them was backing down, the tension only grew, gaining the attention of surrounding classmates. Whispers, speculation, and curious glances added to your discomfort. Now would have been the perfect time to be read. Escape the judgmental gazes and the weight of uncertainty. 

Bucky stood from the table only to lean over the table, getting closer to your ear. “You’re smart enough to know, Sunshine, you can’t stay away.” His whispers tickled your ear, once again sending shivers down your spine. Your cheeks began to burn, your palms felt sticky. 

“Back off, Barnes,” Steve interjected with a firm voice and a shove to Bucky’s shoulder. You stood from your seat about to get in between the two as others began to crowd more closely. “Stay away from my sister.” His words were not only a warning to Bucky but the whole cafeteria. He stood tall showing he would stand up and fight anyone who ignored the warning. Bucky’s smirk faltered as he steadied himself on his feet, there was something that you couldn’t decipher now taking place over his face. Was it regret? Sorrow? Or was it something entirely different? It only served to deepen the tension in the room. 

Thankfully, you thought, the bell rang to signal the end of lunch. The tension you didn’t realize you were holding released from your jaw. You began gathering up your book, homework, and stationery, preparing to leave. Your mind began racing with thoughts of the game you had found yourself in. The hardest test she would ever take, one she had not studied a second for. As you rushed out, you glanced back at Steve and Bucky, still locked in a silent standoff having a private conversation with their glares, neither wanting to back down. 

~

Navigating your way through the hallways trying to dodge other rushing students to your next period, your mind buzzed with conflicting thoughts and emotions. Bucky’s words left you feeling both excited and nervous. Could you not stay away? All these years you had never once thought about Bucky in any way, positive or negative, and now, after one glance he had fogged your mind for days. 

Turning a corner, you collided with another body not realizing that they were also turning. “Watch it.” A Sokovian accent exclaimed, her voice was thick with annoyance as she steadied herself and fit her coat. Wanda Maximoff: one of your most trusted allies. A transfer student who just never went home. You and Wanda became great friends not long after you volunteered to show her around the school. 

“Wanda! Sorry!” You replied while also steading yourself, looking around to make sure you didn’t drop anything. You gave a quick look over your shoulder, half expecting Bucky to be lurking, a smirk plastered across his face. Nothing. Wanda looked past you towards when you had previously checked. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Rogers.” You scrambled your thoughts for a reply, not so much a ghost, how do you tell your best friend what just happened and sound normal? Of course, you trusted Wanda with more than you did Steve for the most part, you just hadn’t got your head around it yet. 

“Sorry, it’s nothing to worry about,” You sighed, finally looking into your best friend's eyes, a concerned look on her face. “Just, a lot on my mind,” Raising your textbooks slightly to suggest that a lot on your mind was school work. Wanda stared at you with a questioning look, not buying it for a second.

Placing a hand on your shoulder, Wanda gave it a small squeeze letting you know that she was there for you. You had both formed a sort of unspoken secret language between only you two. The only other person who has a slight understanding of it is Peter Parker. 

~

Peter was your next-door neighbor, he moved in when you both were little kids to live with Aunt and Uncle. You played together in each other’s garden, he was rare, he could play sports on the same level as Steve but also had your level of smarts. As you all grew up, Steve met new friends and went around town with them. So, it was just you and Peter left doing science experiments in the backyard. 

It was great as kids, especially since your bedroom windows were opposite of each other. You both would stay up later than you should of, using a tin can phone you crafted together, helping each other study. Now, you both stay up late using your actual phones to help each other. 

~

The rest of the day was a blur for you, consumed by the thoughts of him. You struggled to focus on your classes, you looked through textbooks and presentations, but, all you could see was that look on his face as he called you ‘Sunshine’. By the end of the school day, you were once again sat in the back seat of Steve’s car driving home. You knew you had to talk to someone about everything that was happening, someone with potentially some experience. Sharon. Your brother's long-term girlfriend, they had been in a relationship for as long as you could remember. Surely, she has experience. 

“Hey Sharon,” Your voice uncertain as you watched Steve walking into the gas station to pay. “Can we talk?” Sharon glances back at you through the mirror on the passenger sun visor. “It’s about Bucky…”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, her eyes fixed on you. “Bucky Barnes? What about him?” Her speech rushed as she tried to act like she knew nothing about Steve’s hatred towards him. 

You took a deep breath and gathered your thoughts before speaking to the closest person to Steve about this. “I don’t know. There’s something about him that, I don’t know, makes me want to know.” You stopped for a moment to check on Steve’s location, still in a long line, waiting. You have time. “I can’t explain it, but, Steve has told me to stay away and that he doesn’t trust him.”

Sharon’s expression changed to a more sympathetic and understanding look, she closed the visor and twisted in the passenger seat to face you. “Follow your heart, sweetie. Only you can decide what’s right for you. Steve worries because he is a boy, he knows in his mind what boys can think and act like and he’s scared the worst with happen, but, he doesn’t own you or your actions. This is your story.” 

At that moment, you had never been happier that Steve chose to be the nice guy for Sharon. You nodded back at her, you were still uncertain about a lot of things but as Sharon said, it’s your decision. Not Steve’s, yours.

- - -

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#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x female reader #high school au #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x sister!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #bucky fic #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x rogers!reader #bucky barnes x you

[beenbaanbuun]

hi! i wanted to ask something about yeosang

since he's a werewolf, would he change in full moon? would he have ruts? how would the family take care of it?

now, yeosang may not transform when the full moon hits, but he certainly acts more primal. even after he’s grown used to being around the family and coddled by darling, he can’t help himself when it comes to that time of the month.

the day before, he’s always a little grumpier. seonghwa can’t ruffle his hair without yeosang snarling at him, hongjoong can’t make a snarky comment without getting a snooty remark in return, and darling can’t irritate him as much as she usually does without him pinning her to the floor like a disobedient pup. not that she particularly minds being pinned; it only adds to her fun when he’s leaning above her, anger racing through his expression as he reprimands her.

but the day of the full moon is when the three of non-werewolf residents really need to watch out. if his mood is bad leading up to it, it’s absolutely foul when it actually hits. yeosang will go back to his old biting habits, baring his teeth if anyone does anything even vaguely in his vicinity. if seonghwa accidentally steps on that creeky floorboard whilst walking to his favourite spot on the chez, yeosang will snap his jaws. if hongjoong puts a chess piece down a little too loudly, yeosang will snarl. if darling dares to touch him, we’ll, let’s be real, he won’t do much more than pin her and bare his teeth, but it’ll still be much meaner than usual. the scolding will actually feel real for once, even more so than those empty threats he chucked her way during the first few weeks he was there. safe to say even she tries to avoid him when it’s that time of the month.

as for ruts, yeosang does experience them but it’s nowhere near as painful and violent as media makes it out to be. sure, it’s unpleasant to have a permanently hard dick for a week, three times a year, but he’s not bed bound or anything. he can still get up and move around and interact with the rest of the family without jumping darling’s bones. he’s just a little more… desperate… in a way that makes him completely and utterly submissive. like sure, he wants to breed but he’ll beg for it first. and yes, he wants darling to be in his arms 24/7, but if that means he needs to act as her personal teddy bear for a week then goddammit he will. he hates his ruts for this specific reason; he can hardly pretend to be the big bad wolf when every bone in his body is telling him to do whatever it takes to have his precious pup curled up nice and safely in his arms.

and hongjoong and seonghwa let him have what he wants, if it suits them. during the day when they’re both busy, he has to be good; keep his dick in his pants and stick solely to cuddling her by the fire. of course, yeosang will obey. in the state he’s in, he’s so desperate to keep darling with him that he’ll listen to whatever it is seonghwa and hongjoong tell him.

but as soon as one or both of them are free to monitor that he doesn’t go too far, and providing darling is okay with it, yeosang has free reign. the poor thing is so desperate that he barely lasts long, but it doesn’t really matter because it’s just as much about getting his partner off as it is himself. he explained it as ‘proving himself’ when hongjoong had asked why he was so desperate to make darling cum too. the man supposes that’s as good of a reason as any…

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #opposites attract universe #yeosang x reader #matz x reader #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader

[beescake]

yea i very much agree with ur take on sollux in his relation to older technology, u get it

please id love if youd share some more of ur analysis on his character (as well as ur art bc that shit is 👌👌👌)

either way, thanks for feeding my brain worms

im glad it resonated!! :') always happy to explore his character, he contains multitudes!!!

i think i may be out of sollux analysis for now, in the sense where i don't have anything new to add that hasn't already been covered in these posts? (please add if there's more...)

why i like sollux (lackadaisicallexicon, 2014)

comprehensive sollux status guide (syblatortue, 2016)

bioware machine (lime-bloods, 2016)

fridgestuck (LaureledEevees, 2017)

mary sue (3d-gla22e2, 2019)

favorite sollux trait (3d-gla22e2, 2020)

doom-bound static (gendertrickster, 2023)

however i will say there's another thing i really like abt him:

his Range!

he has a v flexible face.. even with his neutral expression, you cant help but read a tinge of melancholy/pensiveness to it.

he deters people from getting too comfortable with him by acting crude, but no matter how unapproachable he looks you can't help but wonder if he's ok. seems like he's never content with himself.

just like karkat, anger gives him purpose = something to care about & react to. without it he can appear aimless/uncertain.

it's especially interesting when you compare him to aradia, who despite having endured a lot of shit, ends up enjoying the freedom of expanding her worldview, riding the unpredictable tide of the narrative and observing the changes. sollux... doesn't.

he doesn't like watching major things progress in a way he can't predict. the lack of certainty actually overwhelms him.

and it's pretty clear why; imagine the only reassurance you get after unknowingly killing ur gf is that "it needed to happen". the only way to appease that sort of emotional turmoil is by intellectualizing those events as inevitable and out of your control.

(hs, A6I5)

when you’re just a tool for the author, trying to sit out is just feeble self-preservation until you’re needed again. if you’re not called on stage to help/assist in some way, it feels like your presence spells doom (either you or someone else will get hurt). so you avoid Events as best you can.

#ask #anon #homestuck #sollux captor #2023 #vioart #i love expressive characters eheh my fave emotions to draw are actually anger and incredulity. vry cathartic for me #im also super relieved the prev analysis was received well ngl it was like. splitting my chest open it was . very personal #largely bcs my appreciation of him is weirdly abstract? seems as if i had to come up w sm conceptual meaning just to say i like his vibe #but rlly i was just working backwards frm that conclusion like wow this character looks cool lemme think harder abt why i like it #i may have sounded a bit callous too.. but truly he is 1 of my top 3 faves alongside karkat & aradia. i brain them regularly in rotation

[l4long-winded]

ii. consequences and a lead

summary: sherlock doesn't usually regret things, but he's regretting how he spoke to you. it's not out of the goodness of his heart, however (cavill!sherlock x afab!reader)

reflection: this second part may be the shortest of this mini-series, but i do plan for things to pick up after. the third part is already sitting at over 3,000 words and it's unedited and unfinished. i am excited to see interest going up since i've been thinking about this story for months now. watching it come to life has been a fun and challenging endeavor so i hope you enjoy! please feel free to leave feedback to your heart's desire.

warnings: seamstress!reader, condescending!sherlock, mystery brewing, cursing, suggestive language, somewhat slowburn, enemies to lovers, eventual smut, victorian era (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 1,834

previously: a sleep deprived meeting

The joints in Sherlock’s knuckles crack as he flexes his hand at his side, jaw squaring off the longer he stands and stares at the golden 221A sitting on the door ahead. He’s not one to be apologetic, and he currently isn’t whatsoever. There always come these instances where he comes off as rude because of how blunt he is and how blatant he can be in his dismissing tone. Misunderstandings occur, bitterness emerging as a result since he’s a problem solver, not a linguist meant for socializing and getting along with others. Because of this, sometimes he’ll say the wrong thing and hurt feelings he never meant to in the first place. Though, he doesn’t turn back on the things he says, not unless he finds he’s logically in the wrong. This is hardly ever the case. He may be inept in reading and coddling emotions, but that doesn’t mean he’s off the mark. That doesn’t mean he’s not right.

In his line of work, there are bound to be feathers ruffled. No one likes to be analyzed, much less when it comes to a crime they’ve committed. You, the one sitting behind this door, have not committed any crime (to his knowledge), but you’re connected to the one he’s investigating at this moment. It’s been two days since you rattled the stairs and confronted him at his flat. He made it very clear how he didn’t want to be disturbed through how he talked and how he disregarded you, how he ignored your complaint about his violin because it was the only thing helping him navigate his proactive brain in this puzzle of a mess. Much like you, he hadn’t slept in a while, which could have caused him to be ill-mannered from the stress building in the background (another thing to ignore), so he didn’t want to rid of the one thing keeping his head together. He could have just gone to sleep to avoid being discourteous and refrain from chiming his violin further, but that’s not how it went down. He’s now suffering from the consequences of his actions, having to wait patiently after he knocks, to which then he would have to answer for his actions, all for a chance at a lead.

He went back to reviewing his evidence yesterday, a day after the incident with you, and he realized the piece of fabric etched with dried crimson at his disposal matched the same fabric of the sleeves adorning your forearms. You didn’t utilize the same fabric on your skirts or on your bodice, he would have noticed this. He has a tendency to notice just about everything and with you… with you it was easier than usual. Every detail matters, it’s the mantra that plays every time he observes someone much more than they need to be. It’s the same one that egged him on to note the color of your eyes, the way your hair fell into your face, and how your chest heaved in the anger you tried and failed to hide in order to file your noise complaint. Where he can restrain himself and dwindle down whatever emotions may lie in him, the little that there are, you are the antithesis. You wear your emotions on your sleeve, the sleeve made out of his evidence, even if the occasion calls for a calm demeanor. Perhaps such a demeanor would have worked with someone else who wasn’t Sherlock, who wasn’t as stubborn about their music and their contemplation.

It’s the demeanor he writes on his face at this moment, willing himself to knock onto the door with a cautious fist that doesn’t teeter on too soft or too hard of a pressure. Either one and you may consider him passive or a brute. He thinks about things like this, things others would brush over since they deem them too simple or too trivial. Nuances can make or break perception even if said person’s perception is unaware of them.

“Be right there!” comes through the door and Sherlock unconsciously begins to time your arrival. He shifts his weight to his right and counts the seconds under his breath, 16, 17, 18, you must be in the middle of something. It could be you’re crafting a dress, or he’s caught you in the middle of lunch, or perhaps you’re tending to a customer at this very moment and he’s interrupted your business. You interrupted his, but from how you didn’t seem to care about his appearance and his name, he knows you’re unfamiliar with him and his work. 34, 35, 36, he couldn’t possibly think everyone in the area knew him, but he would think that at least his downstairs neighbor would. This is a place where it’s easy for infamy to travel. Word gets out through the papers, through his visits to various locations nearby, his legend expanding with every case he solves. But, now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t recall when you moved in. You must be new, certainly. He would’ve remembered… oh, he definitely would’ve remembered you.

Sherlock is about to start the 50s in his counting when your door comes open. He watches the scenery come slowly to him from your flat, his head moving until it stops to see you step through in… in a chemise sans any other form of layering. Your hair is up again, but the strands that have fallen out of the pins are wet and darkened. That’s why it took you so long. You weren’t working on anything nor were you eating—you were taking a bath. And a relatively good one since your face immediately falls upon the recognition of Sherlock, a bright, relaxed grin giving way to a grimace. Something about that is amusing to him, but he doesn’t let it show on his face. Antithesis, remember?

“Mr. Holmes… to what do I owe the pleasure?” You’re mocking in your tone, eyes rolling to the ceiling. Oddly enough, you don’t turn away from him. Your shoulder sags into the door frame, arms crossing against your chest. The dainty fabric draws attention there coupled with the action, swells above your breasts that he immediately turns away from. He’s rebellious in refusing to look despite a curiosity filling him. It’s an unfortunate matter that you’re not the worst thing to look at. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Something about you is pleasing to his eyes, attractive in a way he knows is bound to turn heads had you walked down the length of a pub with suitors tossing waves about for a single glance their way. He’s come across beautiful women in the past, some who have attempted to gain his favor, others who have done so to gain his fortune. You’re a bit different since you’re seeking to do neither and he’s the one who needs something here. The power scales have tipped, and he can feel sweat on his brow thinking of how you can deny him and saunter back into your flat. Back into that bath. Free of the chemise, the gentle steps of your bare feet tracing back to a tub most likely. He smells lavender coming from you and he determines you were trying to relax before he showed up.

“Uh,” he clears his throat, stands straighter and focuses on a spot just above your head. It’s easier than staring since his brain is deducing everything about you without his permission. It has a wreckless habit of doing that, working against him instead of for him. “Excuse me for bothering you, but I’ve discovered something that requires your expertise.” He swallows a knot in his throat when he hears you laugh in what he can only call spite. He stops himself from knitting his eyebrows together, knowing very well how he must be put together if he wants to gain further information. This is one of the routes he saw thinking of how this conversation could go.

“Mr. Holmes, surely you must be joking. My expertise? Really?” Your hand covers your mouth to muffle further laughter so at least you’re trying to be friendlier than days ago, but it’s a futile endeavor. Sherlock can feel the disdain for him radiating off of you and he can’t blame you considering how he acted. He’s still not sorry for it, but it’s understandable. Just like others who were the victims of his observations, you’re scorned and you’re not about to let him forget about it. “After how you treated me the other day, this is the last thing I expected. Not only do you have nerve, but you’re rather tenacious.” You wipe off an imaginary tear from under your eye and then sigh out blissfully once the invasion of the giggles flees. He’s not jovial in the slightest.

“I know how you feel, but this is a crucial endeavor, I can assure you. I’m a detective consultant, you see, and your knowledge may prove valuable in solving the current case I’m working on.” You’re laughing again before he even finishes. The greater good is at stake and you’re laughing. Is this how you felt two days ago? The annoyance surfacing within him is the equivalent of ants crawling in his bloodstream, air he exhales through his nose in the same fashion that a bull about to charge would. This isn’t the time for this, not at all, but it seems your talent is finding a way under his impenetrable skin. He reminds himself to maintain his steady breathing and his impassive expression as you rise taller to evade your disbelieving laughter.

“My apologies, you have a noble profession, but I’m sorry, you’re going to have to find someone else.” Your reply is what he feared would happen. Humans are riddled with emotions and they’re not always positive. He made a bad first impression and now anything he could say would only exacerbate the situation. By your reaction, you’re not taking him seriously and you won’t take him seriously even if he explains the direness of the situation. He already hates disclosing too much to anyone, this was a dud of a visit. If he thought it would get better results, he would have stopped by as soon as he made his discovery yesterday. His options ran too low and he’s reached yet another dead end.

“Fine. I’ll speak to another seamstress, maybe a tailor. Thank you.” He slightly bows at the hip, but it’s barely a motion since he’s aggravated on the inside. The puzzle will be in pieces longer until he can get to his next lead/clue and this just proves he can’t rely on anyone but himself. He pivots away from you before you could respond, before you could say anything else that would inevitably rub him the wrong way. It does little to achieve the desired effect because he hears “Good luck finding one that could think” followed by a shutting door on his way to the staircase.

#henry cavill #enola holmes #sherlock holmes #henry!sherlock #sherlock holmes x reader #enemies to lovers #beyond answers #consequences and a lead #l4l.writes

[deadbydangit]

This might be strange and you may not even know what I'm talking about, but could you write characters with an S/o who acts like Jinx from Arcane?

Maybe this with Ghostface and Leon? Feel free to add any and all people if you do take the request. Thank you ^^

I did a bit of research on this character. She sounds rather chaotic but intelligent. So I'm going to go with that. I hope that's okay if I add one more to it as well. I hope you enjoy it.

With a Reader who is chaotic and intelligent.

Ghostface, Leon, Legion (Frank)

Ghostface

Yeah, let's fuck some shit up.

You and Danny are like the same person.

Much to everyone else's dismay.

Your collective appetite for chaos knows no bounds.

You could both be asleep when Danny shakes you to wake you up.

"Hey I remember this fucked up joke and wanted to tell you."

And you're both just going to laugh.

And then go right back to sleep.

You're both inseparable.

If he could sneak you into every trial to help him, he so would.

"Like, babe, think of the ways we can kill survivors together."

The Entity, much to everyone's delight, refuses to let that happen.

So you both go terrorize whoever happens to be in the woods at that time.

Not as fun, but still entertaining.

Your intelligence has helped him numerous times when it comes to constricting any sort of trap he'd like.

And he won't have to worry if his precious camera ever gets damaged.

The pranks you pull in each other are great.

The pranks you both work on together are masterpieces.

You are the bain of everyone else's existence.

And you both wouldn't have it any other way.

Leon S Kennedy

He has his hands full with you.

He may have the intelligence to match.

But he's a hero, not... Whatever you are.

He'll often walk in on you building some crazy invention or trap.

He is highly concerned.

More about everyone else.

Because that does NOT look safe.

He does take interest in some of your inventions.

Watching you build and explain them, watching how passionate you are about your craft.

It's super cute to him.

Leon is absolutely going to do that stereotypical hero thing where he tries to make you 'see the light' and 'renounce your evil ways.'

Good luck with that buddy.

Leon is very agile, alert, and fairly smart.

So pulling a prank on him takes some work.

If you do manage, he'll applaud your determination and creativity.

Provided it isn't something dangerous.

If he wants you to hold still for a while, he'll challenge you to a boardgame or chess.

This is where his competitive nature shines.

But it's all in good fun.

He never goes easy on you though.

Just because you love him doesn't mean he's going to let you win.

You've already won his love.

Legion (Frank)

Anarchy! Anarchy!

Frank has no idea what that word means, but it sounded cool and he heard you say it once.

He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed.

But he loves you for the chaotic crazy you are.

He's so down to pull pranks too.

And he's always willing to help you whenever he can.

Need him to sneak into Caleb's workshop to grab supplies for your newest invention?

On it!

"Hey. Want to go put mentos and coke in one of Herman's test tubes?"

That's the closest thing to a science experiment you're going to get from this boy.

Just be honored he's making an effort for you.

You might even see him trying to make inventions of his own.

You inspire him.

His lack of regard for the safety of himself or the safety of others might be a concern to others.

But the both of you couldn't give less of a shit about it.

You only live once.

Well, technically not in the realm.

But it's the principal of the matter.

Frank doesn't know what you mean when you say that, but you're smart and it sounded cool so he's going to say it too.

And, he knows you're cool, so he'll say it.

#dbd imagines #dbd ask blog #dbd x reader #dbd killer #dbd ghostface #dbd survivor #dbd frank #dbd leon s kennedy

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter Seventeen

Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?

Warnings: Language, Reader Woke Up Chooses Danger and Ignores Morpheus, Vomiting.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’, Reader now has long-ish hair for plot reasons (Just so Morpheus can tug on it later).

Word Count: ~2.2k

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“You are going to do what!?” You hissed at Morpheus as Matthew looked between the two of you. “Are you mad?”

“Do I appear to be angry with you?” Morpheus questioned and out of the corner of your eye, you literally saw Matthew wing palm himself.

“That’s— no, Morpheus, you do not appear to be angry with me. I, however, am.” You corrected your previous statement, pinching your forehead with a deep sigh. “You barely have any of your power back and your idea is to march into hell and demand that your helm be returned to you? Have you forgotten what is in hell?”

“Of course not, which is precisely why you must remain here.” He rebutted, his eyebrow arching. “Your necklace protects you from being found, but it does not protect you from their physical attacks should you find them.”

You snorted in disgust and rolled your eyes hard, nearly seeing your own brain if you might add…

“Morpheus, have you ever had the mind that maybe people other than your self-centered idiocy may actually care for you?” You questioned him, you voice near a hiss. You actually managed to take him off guard for a moment. Good. Someone needed to remind him that people other than himself cared about him. Self centered git.

“Your words change nothing, Y/N,” Morpheus spoke, stepping up into your space and towering over you as if to establish dominance or at the very least, make a point. You were growing accustomed to smacking him the face with words of reminder, but Morpheus had eons to prefect his self centered ways. Morpheus right, mortal wrong. Ex-mortal, actually, but that hardly mattered to him.

“Clearly, your ears stop working after a period of argument.” You spoke under your breath, turning back to the table and dropping your body into one of the chairs. “Fine, go and get yourself killed for all I care.” You grabbed the book and opened it to the place you had left off. “See how that works for you.”

You could feel the smoldering glare in the side of your head, but it no longer bothered you. Certainly not after he went all caveman on you because Desire went and pushed one too many of his buttons… the mark he had left was obnoxiously large and was a near constant ache in reminder. Who was the emotional being in this relationship? Certainly not you.

“Matthew, come.” Morpheus finally spoke. Giving the pair a side eye, you watched as Morpheus’s sand swirled around them both in a vortex of sparking gray. Then they were gone.

“Pompous arsehole,” You muttered beneath your breath, reaching for the cup of tea you had made earlier and taking a sip. “I’m not coming to the rescue when you inevitably get yourself in trouble.”

You grew bored of reading fairly quickly, taking to the tele once more and boredly flipping through channels to find something to watch. Nothing appeased your mind and you turned the tele off. Tossing the remote to the side, you stretched out on the sofa and dropped your legs over the side of it, kicking your feet out. Did Morpheus really expect you to stay on the sidelines and twiddle your thumbs while he went out on his crazy trips? You were a human, not a servant. You didn’t sit and stay like he expected…

Wait… you sat up on the sofa, your eyebrows pinching together. You were bound together, your life tied to his and no longer exactly mortal… let alone human. You got up and hurried into the bathroom, taking a position in front of the mirror. Normal human eyes stared back at you. Mundane. Perhaps a little tired. You tugged on the bond you could feel and watched as your eyes morphed into silver. Another, stronger, tug… and they were blazing. Your lips twitched.

You weren’t entirely defenseless. No, Morpheus had forgotten that in his endeavor to get his tools back. You might have zero idea on how to use them, but you liked to think you were a quick learner. Holding up your hand, you concentrated on tugging on your power source and watched in fascination as that swirling sand that you had seen Morpheus use, whirled around your hand. Watching in further fascination as it swirled in the air, you slowly learned how to manipulate and control it. You didn’t know what type of damage it could do but hopefully a show of it would be enough to chase off anyone stupid enough to go after you.

Now if you could just learn how to teleport yourself via the sand and you would be able to do anything. With or without Morpheus’s not needed approval. Releasing the swirling sand, you look a breath and held onto the bathroom counter, clearing your mind and picturing following Morpheus. Or at least finding him. Your gut churned and you felt sand start swirling around you. Wind wailed around you and for a few moments you felt like you were tumbling through open air. Then a jolt ran through your body and solid ground returned to your feet. Hunching over as your stomach rolled, you heaved for a few seconds, your meager breakfast coming up. Blinking as dust fluttered across your eyelashes and opening your eyes, you saw that you were standing on a desolate hill looking down at a line of souls slowly shuffling forwards, all carrying torches. This wasn’t Morpheus, but it was probably close enough…

“Well that’s new.” You spoke out before looking in the direction the line of souls were walking in. No doubt the line would lead you further into hell, but perhaps not to your desired destination. It was start though. Venturing forwards, you followed them through the desolate landscape until you found a cave. Bodies were embedded in the walls, occasionally moaning and writhing. Your eyebrow rose, and you moved towards the gong looking object. The gate at the end of cave was secured shut and most likely not open unless by its own will. You looked over the gong shortly before hearing rock shift and move. A gnarled hand held out mallet, there was an eyeless face mottled with rock and moss looking at you. You took the mallet. “Thank you,”

You didn’t hesitate to smash the mallet against the gong, halting all moans in the cavern, leaving the open space deathly quietly. Then the gates started creaking open. You wanted to head immediately through them with purpose and stomp your way through hell until you found your idiot and talked some sense into him. Or perhaps yelled. But there was a warning siren blaring in your mind to tread carefully, lest you step on a snake. So you stayed in your place and waited. For what, you didn’t know. But then you heard it. Howls. Your eye twinged, holding off a flinch in memory of what took place in Fawny Rig. You stood your ground as hell beasts emerged from the shadows past the open gates. Their red eyes glowed ominously and their maws opened to reveal their sharp teeth dripping with drool and blood. Your eyes blazed silver.

“Stay your teeth, hell beasts,” You snapped, your voice sharp with no hints of fear seeping into it. A fact you were very proud of. “I am not here to challenge you or seek retribution, I merely seek out my bonded.”

More growls, but several of them backed down as a larger one prowled forwards, it’s claws clicking on the rock cavern floor. You recognized that one. It’s eye was far from behind healed, but it looked better than when you had seen it last. The hell beast snarled and growled, showing it’s vicious teeth.

“Least of all with you, hell beast, I have no quarrel with you unless you wish to pick a fight with me once more.” It snarled at you, an even deeper growl emerging from its open maw. Then it’s red glowing eyes burst into hell fire, showing how angry it was. Your own eyes flared to life, silver shining brightly in the dim and undertone of hell. Even more, the ruby resting between your clavicles glowed brightly, emitting a bright scarlet light that lit your face up. The hell beast’s ears flattened against it’s shadowy head and a hiss emerged from it’s throat. Remaining in place, you stared it down. “Put your teeth away, I’m not here for you. I’ve come for another and I believe you know who I seek.” It’s ears slackened slightly and it’s vicious bare melted into a snarl, it’s smoky figure shifting into one less tense.

Claws still clicking on the stone, it turned in place and looked into the mottled darkness ahead. A clear signal to follow. You stepped forwards, walking up to it with purpose. It started moving forward and you found yourself falling in step with it as the rest of the hell beasts fell in step behind you. Moving forwards, you passed through a thick wall of grey smoke and emerged in a forest of soul trees, bodies writing and moaning within the trunks. It was hard not to look around with wide eyes and gawk at everything. This was hell. But you noticed that upon passing that veil, the hell beasts smoky mirage had faded to reveal a pitch black dog with collars of sparkling onyx. It had three heads.

“Cerberus?” You questioned softly with a frown. It had been Cerberus that was sent after you? But it was your understanding that the dog guarded the gates of hell. Why would Lucifer have their hound stray from it’s post. The head closest to you swirled to look at you. It was the head that had the injured eye. Looking into the dogs good eye. You frowned, knowing that it had only been following orders like a loyal hound. “Apologies for the eye, but you scared the hell out of me and I didn’t want to die.”

Cerberus’s good eye on that head blinked at you and the hound then let out a small whimper. One of the other heads snapped at that one, obviously not likely the moment of weakness. You were rounding on that one instantly.

“Enough!” You scolded the one that had snapped. It’s ears drooped at your scolding and the remaining head let out a soft growl. Clearly not amused by the other two’s actions. “Let’s just get along, shall we? Neither of us have full autonomy over our actions. I’d rather put it in the past.”

All three heads let out a huff in agreement as you broke through the withering forests to a stretch of arches decorated by spikes and skulls. What amused you was the many crosses planted in the ground. You thought demons feared the cross? Clearly not down in hell if they had them decorating the entrance to Lucifer’s castle. You traveled beneath the many arches to arrive at another veil of smoke, this one even thicker than the last and more obscure. You couldn’t see what lay beyond it. But Cerberus didn’t seem to be interested in stopping so you continued forwards, entering the veil.

The smoke filled your lungs like a heavy weight, dragging your mood down to despair and pain. You almost wanted to stop right there and curl up in a dismal ball of repression. Was this an effect of hell? It must be but you weren’t going to let it push you down and back from your wants. So you pushed forwards and stepped free of that oppressive wall of smoke. Blinking rapidly, your eyes widened at the looming castle stretched out in front of you. Dry lightning cracked behind it, ominous and threatening. Cerberus turned his three heads to you and you met the dog’s three sets of gaze.

“I’m not stopping here,” You spoke. “But I feel that I should first greet your realm’s sovereign. It would be rude of me not to and I have a feeling that we’ve already gotten off to a more than rocky start. It would also be nice to know why Lucifer wants me dead.”

One of the heads, the stern one, dipped and he started walking up the narrow path that wound and curved its way up to the forbidding black castle. Once again following, you glanced over your shoulder and saw that the hell beasts that had been following quietly behind you, had all shifted and morphed into various looking hound like creatures, some more vicious looking than others. Their true forms were far from as frightening as the ones you were used to seeing in your dreams and nightmares. Returning your eyes to the path in front of you, you did your best to ignore the crunching of skulls and flesh beneath your feet, thankful that you weren’t walking through this domain barefoot. Making it to the large gate which had a glowing red pentagram inscribed on it, you looked down at Cerberus, wondering what to do now.

The dog kept its heads facing forward and only moments later the large doors echoed and boomed, slowly creeping open just enough to allow your passage into the castle. Stepping forwards, you heard a new squelch and glanced down. Red liquid was seeping from the ground, staining your leather boots as you walked. It was even splashing against Cerberus’s fur. Blood most likely. Your eyes focused forwards, Lucifer was not going to scare you off. Not now and not ever. You pushed forwards, bound and determined to seek out Morpheus.

Date Published: 10/10/22

Last Edit: 7/8/23

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#morpheus x reader #dream the endless x reader #dream of the endless x reader #sandman x reader #the sandman netflix #morpheus #dream of the endless #dream the endless #the sandman #lord morpheus

[buglass]

Ch. 1: Are You Hopeful Tonight?

Pairings: Austin Butler!Elvis Presley x OFC

Chapter(s): 1/?

Warnings: slow burn, angst, mentions of racism, partially implied sexual situations

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 2.5K

Song Inspo: Are You Lonesome Tonight? - Elvis Presley & Fever - Elvis Presley

Summary: Hope Haynes has done much in her life leading up to this revolutionary tell-all, but nothing quite like this. No one greater had ever swept her off her feet until she formally met Elvis Presley during the rise of his career and height of new fame. Haynes tells her story for the first time to give insight into the beloved late King of Rock n' Roll. Despite decades of rumors he was prejudiced, Are You Hopeful Tonight? goes into great detail to set the record straight and remember Presley in a different light when love and hate knew color. Or so it was thought. 

© 1991 Chapter 2 Here

A/N: Hi, hello! A little nervous since I haven’t written fics in some time and this will be quite the introduction back into it. Excited to see what you think! I prefer to typically write 1st or 3rd person if that bothers anyone. I proofread this myself but if you spot any mistakes please let me know! Feel free to picture Elvis as himself or Austin. Some bits and pieces are historically accurate but may not add up chronologically or coincide with the film. This would have been “published” 2 years after the song Fight the Power would’ve been released. It won’t entirely be a memoir, but a retelling of events, memories, and Hope’s writing. Here are some references that I feel will ease not only my mind but others as well.

♡ ♡ ♡

I never liked spoilers or skipping to the end of a book. It is worse when not given a choice because you lived the ending. It is the one time I think I will forgive myself for knowing what happens. - Hope

Chapter 1

That was the thing about fame and celebrity. Not only was it choosy but sporadic. Either someone had it or not. Maybe they knew the right people in the right place or time. That something in that particular someone was in Elvis Presley. He had Soul that knew no bounds.

It did not matter who you were or where. You heard the hit That’s All Right playing on a forty-five record or the radio. There were plenty of black artists with the same blinding celebrity (additionally, original lyrics) and not enough room for them in the mainstream. Sam Phillips at Sun Records had tried, but bills need to be paid. Even black radio stations diversified their range. Who could blame anyone? Despite the racial barriers and tension, it was not peculiar to be familiar with white culture. Elvis bridged the gap to some degree. The majority of folks who didn't care for it were older and privy to keeping things the same. 

I could feel the change coming. Just not when. 

Doctor King had been making headway around the same time at just twenty-five, but word traveled slow, and others were afraid. Either way, the younger generation wanted things to be different. I never felt any different from anyone else outside of being told I was. There is an invisible line constantly present yet flamboyant signs of being unwelcome. As a little girl, I understood that despite feeling the same as another little girl of pale complexion, I was not. I never felt that way on Beale Street. Most of us found solace in the surrounding area. A different world all on its own. Looking back, I imagined Elvis felt similarly. Not that I always was around to catch him on Beale Street. Everyone has at least one story. Once, my good friend Aletha came back to me years before about how she spotted a "white boy" walking about and staring in a suit shop window or perusing the area like he owned the place.

“Ain’t it just the most absurd thing you ever heard, Hope?” She had said.

“It’s somethin’, alright,” I replied in amusement, not thinking much of it. “But I don’t think him buyin’ a three-dollar shirt is ownin’ the place.”

  Only when I saw him for myself did I believe it. By then, it was commonplace. I stood across the street leaning against the cool brick in the shade, nursing a hand-rolled cigarillo. Too many vehicles and passersby blocking my view. Slicked jet black hair, its ducktail staring back, and only a reflection I could barely see in that same shop window he was ogling. My eyes wandered to the sign Lansky Bros. and back to him again. That time he went inside seemed to be for more than a measly shirt by the state of his dress. I never fully caught a glimpse of his face, but something about him had been familiar. I didn’t take to staring at white men much anyhow. My mama always said I had to be careful around those folks. Move off the sidewalk, keep your eyes down, and don’t do this or that. 

By 1956, I was twenty and Elvis was twenty-one. He had become one of the biggest names out of Memphis for Hound Dog. There was not a soul who was not aware of him. I had so much as became a passive fan. His take on music struck a chord in me that I was embarrassed to admit. My daddy detested the idea of listening to anything but black artists among generally supporting all things black. It left a deep-seated pit in my stomach. It was unavoidable once in the throes of Club Handy. The summer heat had simmered down to autumn and made for lax evenings. Gaining access to the club before the peak influx was the most ideal. The odds of a mass of commotion outside had been less expected when he showed up and hurried inside. I watched alongside Aletha from a nearby window while people tried to clamber or beg their way. Only then, as if the wailing guitar filling the air had stopped, did I turn to see him striding along with B.B. King. B.B. had spoken of Elvis in passing at church long ago, but nothing like seeing them conversing excitedly while rounding the bar. 

“You might wanna close your mouth before ya catch flies.” Aletha leaned in to tease.

“I’ll do you one better,” I murmured before finishing my glass and giving myself an excuse. “Catch more with honey.” I breathed out after a burning gulp.

“Hope…” Aletha said skeptically. She looked ready to wrangle me into my seat. It might have been the booze burning in my belly loosening me up. I figured there was no harm in approaching. One second I was smoothing down my skirt and hair, then standing beside B.B. the next. He took notice when my arm brushed his. His face lit up quickly in recognition.

“Just when I didn’t think the night could get better. There’s always Hope.” B.B. grinned, too proud of himself for his tired-out pun. 

I suddenly felt my heart in my throat when Elvis’s head turned from the bartender towards me. I had never seen such bright and open eyes on me before. Neither such an ostentatious lace shirt paired with a suit jacket did nothing to hide the skin beneath. My eyes raised again to somewhere more appropriate—the healing cut on his cheek and its unusual hue shiny with a salve. I had heard about what happened at whichever gas station he had been at in the papers. No one ever took him for a legitimate ruffian before then.

“I finally had a moment to catch up with you. You’re hardly around in Memphis anymore. Thought I’d catch you before you get lost in the events of the evening and the road callin’ your name,” I smiled and placed my empty glass on the bar. “Don’t be rude. Introduce me.” 

“If you gave me a moment, girl.” B.B. chuckled and took the slightest step back so Elvis and I could see one another. “EP, this is essentially my little sister and shadow Hope. Hope, Elvis.” B.B. gestured between them. Elvis was the first to outstretch his hand and I followed suit. His touch was gentle and appropriate for greeting a lady. No different from any other woman he might be meeting.

“It’s very nice to meet you. Hope, is it? A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Elvis grinned while trying to catch my eyes. I was shaking his hand much too long while the shock rippled through me and the alcohol failed to uphold its purpose. The most downright sinful electricity filled me when he spoke. I swore the Creator himself was ready to strike me down for it. I was nodding despite myself.

“Yes. I mean, thank you, Mr. Presley--” I started.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that. That would be my father. Just Elvis is fine.” He offered a lop-sided smile. I would have blushed if I could have. The rosy blush on my cheeks did enough on its own. The budding sweat, on the contrary, could be blamed on the close-knit environment. Elvis, too, if I was truthful. I finally let go of his hand and looked at B.B. as if just remembering he was standing there. There was an amused, silent exchange the blues singer gave me that was gone as quickly as it had shown.

“What are you havin’?” B.B. asked and signaled the barback again. The opening was closed again as B.B. leaned against the bar while I took the stool.

“Whisky, neat.” I raised a brow and felt the smirk creeping on my lips. If B.B. was paying, I was drinking. Elvis placed a hand on his chest and held the other upward in defeat.

“Now, that is not a girl you want to mess with. Huh, B.B.?” Elvis smiled at me again. With all their drinks handed out, I felt that much lighter. Our glasses and bottles clinked in a chorus of ‘cheers’.  After a few minutes of chatting, pretending everything was normal, Aletha joined my side. I loved her like a sister, but it could not have been more poorly timed. Someone had come by to let B.B. know his set was next. 

“Break a leg,” I told him from behind the rim of my glass.

“I hope it’s both.” Elvis quipped before letting out a hearty laugh. The sound was unlike any other without the static of a poor radio signal or television screen in the way.

“Let’s hope.” B.B. clapped his free hand on Elvis’s shoulder and spun on his heel towards the stage. 

The unoccupied stool left room for Elvis to scoot over, and he did. I would have paid for that sort of sober confidence at twenty. What are the chances I would get to speak to Elvis Presley alone ever again? Let alone see him where women would not be trying to tear his clothes off. Aletha was more than favorable. She passed the (forsaken) brown paper bag test and was narrow-nosed. Curvaceous in places that would take months' worth of meals for me to compete. My insecurities blinded me once I introduced them. Their casual banter carried on with inquisitive, casual plights. Aletha never appeared to have the same shyness or awkwardness I carried with me everywhere. 

“You’re awfully quiet,” Elvis said. His eyes scanned the crowd, lingering there. 

“Sorry?” I looked up from the amber liquid swirling around in the glass. Taking to people watching and B.B. setting up had been a lazy escape.

“You’re awfully quiet,” He repeated and cocked his head to the side, dipping to meet my eye level. Stray strands of hair fell into his face. I hated how much I liked it. The teenage girl in me wanted to save it to memory for when I would have to reminisce about his lost presence. I shrugged and shook my head dismissively. “Let’s dance.” He reached back to place his nearly empty bottle atop the bar.

The panic returned, my heart hammering in my chest. I spared a glance at Aletha observing. She shrugged and reached to take my glass from my hand. The look she gave me said I would be crazy not to dance with Elvis Presley. My mouth fell open ready to utter an alibi without a chance. He pulled me out to the floor. Wistful bodies moved to the guitar, and B.B.’s voice crooned a lovelorn tale that sent my mind elsewhere. Elvis drew me into his arms, one hand on my lower back and the other clasped in mine. Time seemed to slow down. The worry of being near a man different from me felt pointless under his touch.

“This alright, darlin’?” Elvis leaned in with his lips near my ear. All I could do was nod. When he withdrew, he was watching me, reading my face. It warmed my chill exterior Elvis was willing to ask. All I could do was focus on him lest I catch anyone staring. There was a flash and another in our specific direction. Someone took a picture of us, that worry festering again. 

“Doesn’t that bother you?” I asked and dropped my chin down towards my chest. Maybe if I shrunk, I would magically become the size of a pea. We swayed from side to side as the bystanders' cheering became louder. Elvis stepped in closer with his knee nudged between my own. He dropped his head so I could hear him better and held my hand against his chest. Lord, what was happening?

“Why should it, Hope?” He rumbled and brought their hips closer. “It don’t matter to me.” Elvis affirmed. Every movement shared was guided by those devilish hips. 

“I think you know why,” I answered a bit too breathlessly for my liking. How tempting to close my eyes and let Elvis sweep me away. 

“I’ve never been one to care about those sorta things. It’s how I was raised by my mama and daddy. Sometimes folks don’t know what they’re missin’.” He explained warmly and drew back enough to smile at me. I was unaware, at the time, of his childhood in Tupelo or the friends he kept. Elvis’s smile was shit-eating though not cocky. Playful at best. 

“First I’m hearing about it…” I trailed off. 

A weary sigh left me. I gave in to the closeness, lying my head on his chest. He was firm and steady. Parts of myself stirred that I didn’t often face. The warm ache in my lower stomach, familiar and unwelcome, was assuaged by him and the density of the room. I swore it felt akin for him as well. I wanted to snap out of it. Instead, I wondered what it would be like to have him on my bed. Whatever spell Elvis Presley had cast on me was reeling me in. I had never gone that far with a man. I was not planning to start there. When the song faded away, I separated from Elvis. The distance helped to clear my head of the cobwebs. That picture was going to be in the papers tomorrow. The world could not find a more avid reader than my father. He would be the least of my worries once every consumer of the paper got a look at me. I tucked my hair behind my ear before joining in on the applause. Pretending was not something I was ever capable of doing. I excused myself, moving out of reach from Elvis. There was a tug at my arm to slow me down and I tugged right back.

“Hope, wait a minute, would you?” Elvis asked. “I can’t understand what’s wrong if ya don’t talk to me.” His long legs carried him around to face me quicker than I could manage.

“That’s it, Elvis, I don’t have to. I’m not some trollop you can carry off into the night. Alright?” I answered heatedly. A poor attempt to put my foot down and create space. Beelining towards where Aletha remained at the bar, I pointed towards the exit that would lead us downstairs. She gave me a look of disbelief once more. I thought Aletha of everyone would be understanding of how ludicrous it had become. Had she been watching us at all? When her eyes skipped past me, I turned again to find Elvis waiting patiently. I was so sure he was a man who had become accustomed to getting what he wanted. The three of us could be stubborn together.

“I would like to see you home, at least. Aletha too, if she’s comin’.” Elvis offered, waiting. He pursed his lips at me when I didn’t answer immediately. In the lull, his eyes lit up again. I would be added to the list of people who struggled to tell him no.

“You are trouble.” I looked at him meekly from under my lashes.

“I’m evil, sugar.” He said, pearly teeth shining bright. ♡ ♡ ♡ A/N: I wouldn't have written this or posted it without the encouragement from the people who left comments and asked to be tagged. Thanks for reading! This chapter was mainly just to set the foundation as much as possible. It gets better (I think...). Taglist: @wonderprince @4niah

#are you hopeful tonight? #austin butler!elvis presley fanfiction #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler x ofc #austin butler x reader #elvis presley fanfiction #austin butler x black!reader #austin butler #elvis presley #austin!elvis x reader #fanfiction #fanfic writing #fanfics #in progress

[nthee]

twst boys as clichés

characters: malleus, lilia, silver, sebek

warnings: character death implied (lilia's part), arranged marriage (malleus' part)

malleus draconia · arranged marriage trope

“you don't have to pretend to like this, malleus.” a chuckle breaks through the silence. piercing green eyes stare at you in disbelief, and in amusement. “do i look like i am pretending?”

possibly, this was the hardest job of your life.

getting married to a fae was already something in itself (you can ask sebek's father, he'd know) but the crown prince of briar valley himself? one of the most powerful mages in twisted wonderland? someone has to be messing with you.

well, it can't be worse. sure, you're bound for the rest of your life to someone of high status, but at least that someone is incredibly talented, and handsome, and respectful, and — you get the point.

but it's still malleus draconia. that name is not just a name. in school, he's already feared and cowered upon. what more out there?

basically, it makes you feel inferior and a little bit crappy. so much that you just want to crawl into a hole and disappear from the world.

especially when malleus is so damn charming! makes it seem like this was less a political choice and more of a romantic one. which, is a lie... you believe.

“why me, malleus?” “hm. you're the best choice here in the school.” footsteps stop suddenly. malleus looks behind him to see you stand still. “then why not choose out there?” an amused look appears on his face. he's even fighting the urge to laugh. “i think you'd make an excellent royal to rule by my side.”

you got the answer to your problem, but did it really help?

god, it made you feel worse.

because now, you're falling for him.

is that really a problem though? the smile on his face says otherwise.

lilia vanrouge · reincarnation trope

“why, general lilia, how soft you've become.” soft giggles erupt from the cottage in the forest. “soft? i have not!”

lilia vanrouge, best known as the leader of the royal guards in briar valley, a fae for that matter, becoming smitten for a human. it was a concept, to say the least.

he was always throwing himself into the flames of war. the scars even he struggles to cover up are proof of just how many he participated in.

you only looked at them — never dared ask him about it. deep inside, you feel your heart ache whenever you see them. you wished he took care of himself more.

every night he isn't busy, everyday he isn't venturing out into the world, he is at his safe place: your home.

lilia brings fruits sometimes — other times, he presents flowers — always with a cheeky grin.

once though...

“is this...?” a gasp and a shaky breath comes out of your mouth. you look at the fae in disbelief. “yes, it is.” nonchalant and calm, he stands his ground. “lilia...”

“will you marry me?”

lilia blinks once. twice. hell, even thrice. but the vision isn't going away.

a pair of eyes meet his for a split second, before they glance back to the rest of the students.

there, in front of him, was the new exchange student.

there, in front of him, was you.

silver · knight in shining armor trope

“silver, sit still, it's alright.” you calmly deny him. he tilts his head with his usual nonchalant expression. “i insist. my nap time is still in an hour.”

you're not a royal, that much everyone knows of course. but silver, is a knight through and through.

he's protective, and helpful. by protective, i mean very protective. and by helpful... well, you already know.

you could bump into a wall once and he'd start trailing behind you when you're a little too close to walls.

you could trip at the courtyard once and he'd walk alongside you (hand on your waist, may i add?) and scan the floors.

you could literally spill juice over yourself and he'd be by your side in a moment (literally doesn't matter where he came from — he will be there) with his blazer in hand.

basically, you get the point. silver, when not sleeping, is very pampering to the point that you're actually concerned for him.

“i'm concerned, silver.” “hm?” “aren't you... i don't know, being too helpful? it's as if i'm keeping you busy.” eyes scan your expression, before a yawn interrupts. “not at all. i like being around you.”

sigh. that's not really the answer to your question, but i guess you expected it.

silver isn't bound to change, especially for you.

even though you aren't of any royal status, silver sure as hell makes you feel like you do.

sebek zigvolt · rivals to crushes trope

“well, sorry about that, sir. zigvolt! is that better?!” a stupidly smug expression appears on his face. “say it nicer.” “make me, zigvolt. hope you trip in front of malleus today!” turning away, you run off. “get back here right now!”

the loudest duo in the school. you two are fighting for that position with ace and deuce, and honestly? with the amount of conflicts you two have in a day? adeuce duo might as well hand over that title.

it's not your fault you're a human, of course not. he's making it seem like you chose to be one.

sebek is loud, we all know that. and he's uptight.

when he's not busy shouting praises about malleus, he's alongside you arguing, and often, being the start of these fights.

people around you start purchasing earplugs in exasperation. hell, even ace of all people is annoyed.

but, as of recently... you notice sebek hasn't been messing with you. of course, you (and your ears) celebrate for awhile. then you become concerned...

especially whenever he purposely avoids you and turns red to his ears at just the mention of your name.

“oi, zigvolt, what's up with — hey! don't walk away now!” you try and catch up to him in a hurry (code word: try. damn does his training pay off). “what's wrong with you? why are you acting so weird — hey, no, wait!” you silently curse as he successfully avoids you again. a letter on the ground catches your eye, and before you know it, you pick it up.

it has sebek's handwriting, so he must've dropped it. ignoring your morals, you read the letter.

every word, every letter has you trying not to bang your head on the nearest wall.

god, what an idiot... can't even say he likes somebody.

you can't lie to yourself though, you're glad that that somebody is you.

←

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #twst #twst headcanons #twst imagines #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #twst silver #sebek zigvolt #malleus draconia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst silver x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #tw: character death implied #tw: arranged marriage #⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡ | by nthee.

[lilac-5ky]

How do you think Hijikata and Gintoki would deal with a s/o who genuinely perks up at the Little things and simple things in life, no matter how old they get. Like theyll be excited over a book they really wanted, apples, chocolate, a giant ass ship that just sailed by, loads of flowers in a field. They also tend to remember the simple things and little things about Hijikata and Gintoki and who they’re friends with?

For starters, I see both Gin and Hiji as guys who would appreciate such an impressionable S/O, for different reasons.

𝔾𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠𝕜𝕚

On one hand, we have Gintoki whose finances don't give him much of a choice when it comes to being a 'good' partner. He wouldn't be able to provide his S/O with much, so having someone who gets happy over the small and rather cheaper things, would put his mind at ease.

At first, Gin might be taken aback by her behavior and find it childish. He'd definitely make some sort of comment and tease her, but such a quality would be endearing to him. He is attracted to people who smile, so seeing her face constantly brighten up would in return cheer him up.

Also, I feel like Gin is the kind of person who likes gifting people, though he mostly can't afford it. Remember the Kagura umbrella episode? It was a simple thing but held extreme importance and value. Gin is not a particularly verbal guy when it comes to his feelings. As long as his S/O can appreciate such gifts, he will feel like he is getting through to her, emotionally speaking.

But, supposing his finances allow it, he will opt for a better and more expensive gift, one that he knew she'd been eyeing for a long time. Of course, he'll act completely nonchalant about it, literally throwing it to her out of the blue without saying a thing. Except maybe a "you are welcome" because he can be a smug piece of shit in all the best ways.

When it comes to remembering stuff, sure, if she remembers to get him his beloved Jump or parfait or strawberry milk, then yes, he will be ecstatic. Other than that, he wouldn't be too moved by someone remembering every little thing he's said or done (considering that would also involve things he wishes he could take back). Same goes when it comes to his friends. It's good if his S/O notices and cares about them the way he does, but it's not something he'd be on the lookout for.

ℍ𝕚𝕛𝕚𝕜𝕒𝕥𝕒

On the other hand, Hijikata would prioritize a S/O who remembers the little stuff. Just like Gin, he is not super vocal about the way he feels. So when he does go out of his way to express his emotions, he'd appreciate his partner remembering. He needs to be understood and cared for and isn't the kind of guy who'd repeat himself.

When it comes to his partner remembering the little things about him and then showing in a way, that's something he values even more. For example, if his partner keeps in mind his mayo obsession and always adds extra to his meals, or if she is aware of his fear of ghosts, making sure he avoids horror movies and the likes, that's bound to get him hooked. Though he may not thank her, he'll definitely act extra appreciative. After all, having someone who understands his whims by his side, matters a great deal to him.

Now, when it comes to herself being an appreciator of the small things, he might find it endearing as well. Hijikata is not into overly extravagant things. Oftentimes, all he wants is to catch a break from all the tiring Shinsengumi work, by which I mainly mean Sougo. Plus he is also quite busy! Knowing that he can satisfy his partner just by taking her on a quick walk around Edo, or gifting her something as simple as a flower, relieves him of unnecessary stress. He wants to know that he is capable of making the girl he likes happy.

Also, I have to mention that he'd totally get all flustered just by watching her gleeful expressions. He thinks it's adorable that she is acting this way, so if you catch him with a blush on his cheeks, you know why.

Lastly, when it comes to the friends thing, just like with Gin, it's fine if she remembers stuff about them and shows kindness, but overall, it's not that important to him.

Oh, and I can only imagine if "said friends" were one another. If either's S/O called them friends, they'd both get infinitely annoyed, saying something along the lines of 'that mayo freak?' and that 'dessert maniac?' accompanied with lots of TCH sounds. Hm, this got me thinking that their s/o's being friends would probably be the best thing ever...

#gin x reader #hijikata x reader #gintama #sakata gintoki #hijikata toushirou #gintama x reader #gintama headcanons #gin headcanons #gintoki headcanons #hijikata headcanons #gin hcs #gin hc #hijikata hcs #hijikata hc

[inkykeiji]

How do you think Hawks would like to be comforted when in a mood, Clarii? I feel like he is the kind of guy that rarely gets upset but from time to time he gets this sadness and melancholy that just won't leave him...

oooh good question!!! it’s funny you ask this actually, because i recently wrote a piece about comforting keigo as a birthday gift for one of my best friends!! so i’m going to pull from that in my answer hehe c:

beware: very long post of character ramblings ahaha

i agree with you. i think keigo has an iron chokehold on his emotions and he is able to tame and tamper them very well, especially since he is canonically such a good liar. keigo strikes me as the type to be genuinely kind and compassionate but to also hold most people at arms length in an effort to avoid getting hurt or disappointed—at least until he knows them well enough to allow his guard down and feels comfortable being vulnerable with them.

to me, he seems like the type to want to hold it all together all the time not only to be strong for others—for both society and those he loves and cares about—but also to not ‘burden’ or bother others with his problems. he truly and sincerely just wants to do good, just wants to help in any way he can, not to add stress to anyone. i think, as far as he sees it, those are his problems to deal with, not anyone else’s, and he is responsible for solving them. he doesn’t expect anyone to do it for him, whether they’re the love of his life or not. i also think this stems from the deep-rooted trauma of his childhood, where he was made to feel like a burden at all times.

what he has difficulty understanding is that those who truly love him want to help him, to be there for him, to comfort and hold him, to offer him a space to cry, or vent, or get angry—a space to be human, where he isn’t expected to be perfect all the time. the easiest way to get him to see it this way is to reverse the situation, to ask him how he’d be feeling if you were down to make him realize just how much he’d want to help make you feel better—because when your favourite person is feeling sad or icky, wanting to cheer them up never feels like a burden.

with that being said, i also think keigo genuinely understands himself and his feelings very well; he’s in touch with his emotions 90% percent of the time and is often able to calm himself down or work through those complicated and complex emotions on his own.

but despite being a superhero, he is still human. he does still require the comfort of companionship that other human beings offer, just as we all do. and solving all of your issues + working through all of your heavy emotions on your own is bound to get exhausting, no matter how adept you are at it.

so yes anon omg i totally agree with you!!!

when it comes to alleviating his melancholy and providing him comfort, i think a two-step action plan is required. first, providing him with that space to be human—to vocalize whatever it is that’s bothering him and to work through it with you, verbally or otherwise. keigo has a tendency to bottle up his emotions, and without actually expressing and exploring these thoughts and feelings, doing anything else (any sort of distraction; cuddling, cooking, movie watching, etc) is merely slapping a temporary band-aid on the wound without properly cleaning it first—it may briefly feel better, but under the surface it continues to fester.

providing this space doesn’t always mean talking. on the rare occasion, he might be unable to put his feelings into words, or he may not want to express them that way, and that’s okay. on days such as these, art therapy works wonders. it allows him a comforting space—a space filled with love, with compassion, with understanding, with you—to analyze and articulate everything that is going on in his head. more often than not, after he’s finished expressing these things through paint and charcoal, he’ll be ready to discuss them with you.

after he’s let it all out, he just really, really, really enjoys spending time with you, and you only. he’d rather do something active than something passive, like cooking one of your favourite meals together or going for a hike on one of his favourite trails; it continues to allow him to release his feelings and often tires him out enough that he’s ready to finally snuggle up in bed, with his head on your chest and your fingers in his hair, lulled into a deep sleep by the sweet sound of your melodic voice washing over his mind, cleansing it of all the pain as you read from one of his favourite novels <3

i also think keigo would love physical affection with his s/o, so expect a lot of impromptu kisses, hugs, caresses, and hand holding during all of this! <3

this kind of turned into a character analysis haha but anyway! those are my thoughts on the subject! <3 thank you for your question anon bb, i really enjoyed answering!!

#i hope this all makes sense anon!!! #please have a wonderful tuesday and stay safe!!!! and hydrated!!! #sending u much love n health!! #inky.bb #clari gets mail #inky.hawks

[maxandhisnotebook]

Junpei Chronicles part 2

A/N: A bit of a word salad, but I hope you like it anyway. wc: 5.2k tw: bullying, smoking, burn wounds (will add more if needed)

Today had not been a good day. None of them were, but on some, Junpei was able to pretend that they were at the very least okay. Not today.

With it being one of her rare days off work, his mother was already home by the time he got back from school. Like any good mother would, she noticed something was off as soon as she saw him walking through the door. And like any good mother, she asked him what was wrong, but Junpei just ignored her. She wouldn’t get it, she never did. She would never understand just how hopeless his situation was.

He stormed up to his room and slammed the door shut, tossing his bag onto his bed and throwing all his weight into his computer chair, which spun for a few seconds from the force he’d sat down with. There was homework to be done, but why bother? There was no point in doing it. What did it matter if his grades were going to shit? He didn’t owe his teachers anything. They didn’t lift a finger to help him or anyone else affected by the rampant bullying problem, so he wouldn’t do a thing for them. Sure, he may have been hurting himself more than anyone working at the school by neglecting his education, but…

That was okay. If he was the one hurting himself, then it was okay.

His phone buzzed in his pocket with texts from his friends at school. Should I even bother answering those? They were probably just condolences about what had happened earlier that day, which would only make him feel worse. They’re just glad it didn’t happen to them this time. But why did it have to happen to them at all? Why were they singled out for just wanting to have fun with their film club? Sure, their niche interests in movies might be weird to some people, but it wasn’t hurting them, was it? There was really no point in getting on their cases for it.

And what was the point of singling him out in particular? He just wanted to be left alone to enjoy his interests, but no- he had to get called a pervert and beaten up by some girl’s overly possessive boyfriend, all because she claimed he’d been looking at her funny. Which, he hadn’t been. And that was after he’d been dragged outside to be ‘taught a lesson’ for taking a space that apparently wasn’t theirs… He shuddered from those memories that were still so fresh in his mind.

“Consider yourself a hero, you little shit. Because of your sacrifice, all your little friends are gonna be let off the hook. But we can’t have them getting cocky and trying to take over our spot again, can we? That’s why we gotta make an example outta you.”

Why? We weren’t doing anything wrong.

The concrete he’d been shoved down to was hard and rough. Junpei had tried to get back up, which earned him a kick to the chest. “Stay down. We’ll let you move when we’re ready to start.”

Junpei wondered if maybe he should try running. Fighting had never been an option when he was outnumbered, and he was a scrawny kid on top of that. He could run decently enough, but he was bound to get caught by any one of them before he’d be able to take even ten steps. And what if he did manage to get away? What would happen to his friends? They’d all become targets, and these assholes would be pissed enough to do a lot worse…

Fine, he’d take it. The sooner this was over with, the better.

But he was made to wait for about another twenty minutes. During that time, he heard one of the guys grumbling, “Where the hell is that bitch? This was her idea, so what’s holding her up?”

Junpei’s blood went cold. What girl had he pissed off? He barely talked to anyone outside of his friend group. He left people alone, never wanting to cause trouble or start drama. So who could possibly have a grudge against him?

It turned out to be some girl that he didn’t even know, though he thought he might have recognized her from his class. That did nothing to answer his question of why they were doing this to him.

Then all of a sudden she squealed, “Ew, he’s staring at me again! I told you he was a pervert!” She started clinging to her boyfriend’s side, staring at Junpei with a mix of contempt and vicious amusement.

“Wait, wait, this has to be a misunderstanding!” He protested. “I don’t even know who she is. If I was staring, I was probably just staring into space, I wasn’t staring at her on purpose! I don’t like her like that, I’m not a threat to your relationship at all!”

“Yeah, obviously.” The girl snapped, rolling her eyes. “As if a creep like you would ever have a chance with someone like me. We’re doing this to make sure that you don’t get any ideas.”

“But I’m not a creep! I’d never do anything that you’re thinking of to a girl! Or anyone at all!” And I’d certainly never be attracted to a girl like you in the first place.

“Oh, shut the hell up! Do you think we’re stupid?!” The boyfriend yelled. He kicked Junpei in the stomach, the boy groaning in pain. “Have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror? What girl is ever gonna want to be with a freak like you? Of course you’d have to resort to doing something like that! I bet your type is girls who wouldn’t even know how to fight back. So you know what we’re gonna do? We’re gonna scare you senseless so that you know better. Any time you have nasty thoughts, we want you to remember this lesson. In return, we’ll keep it secret that you’re nothing but a perv. Sound good?”

“No! I already told you I wasn’t staring at her! Just please leave me and my friends alone!”

“Getting feisty, huh? Let’s get that out of your system. We’re doing this for the sake of the girls at our school, remember? This is for a good cause.” Grinning sadistically, he turned to his girlfriend and his goons. “Well? What should we do to him?”

“You got any cigarettes, babe?” The girlfriend asked. She pointed at Junpei’s forehead, rather the part that was covered up by his bangs. “We can put them out right there. I doubt he’s gonna be cutting them anytime soon. Are ya, you emo freak?”

Junpei didn’t answer. For all he knew, she was baiting him to look at her and speak to her, earring him a punch or another kick. But it turned out that staying silent was also a bad option.

“What, you’re not gonna look at her now? You trying to prove you learned your lesson already to get out of this? Just how dumb do you think we are?” The boyfriend spat on Junpei’s face, who cringed in disgust. “Don’t even think about wiping it off or I’ll break your fingers, you got that?”

Clenching his fists, Junpei nodded.

“Use your words, freak. Or are you too scared to do that now?”

“I understand,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I knew it couldn’t be that hard.” The boyfriend pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and started handing them out to his goons. Junpei was sure he heard him say, “Y’all are gonna pay me back for these.”

Junpei was forced to sit still while they smoked. Every so often, they would blow it into his face, but he did his best not to react. Other than his disgust, they saw nothing.

As the cigarettes came close to being finished, he was addressed again. “Move your bangs out of the way.”

“Please, you really don’t have to do this. I swear I’m not gonna hurt anyone like that, I just wanna go home!” Junpei pleaded, putting his hands up.

“You’re really trying that excuse again? We didn’t believe you then, what makes you think we’re gonna believe you now?” The boyfriend sneered. “Looks like I’ll just have to do it myself.”

He grabbed Junpei’s bangs and yanked them up, revealing the other half of his face. All of his protests were ignored as the cigarette was put out on his forehead. Lucky for these bullies that there was no one around to hear Junpei’s cries of pain. Pain that he supposedly deserved when he knew that he didn’t.

One by one, they all put their cigarettes out. Despite his best efforts to hold it in, Junpei was crying, wishing that this would just end already. Why did moments of anguish have to last so long?

Finally, the girlfriend came last. She had a grin that was way too smug as she stubbed hers out, twisting it back and forth. “Now you know not to stare at me like a little freak, yeah?” She said, giggling as she stood back up to cling to her boyfriend.

“Now go home, creep. We’re tired of looking at your face,” the boyfriend snapped. “Don’t ever let us catch you doing something like that again or you’re dead.”

Junpei didn’t need any further prompting to get up and run away. He ran faster than he ever had before; his gym teacher would have been impressed.

Why me?

He was so tired of this. He wished that he could transfer to another school, but would that really make things better for him? For all he knew, the bullying at whatever prospective school he was looking at might be ten times worse. He just had to put up with this a couple more years and then he would be free. Would he be able to survive until then, though?

His dark, tired eyes stared at his black monitor as he pulled his knees up to his chest. Would talking to anyone on Discord make him feel better? What about playing one of his games? There was also Youtube, he could find some video that catered to his interests and watch it to take his mind off of things. Anything was better than just sitting here and doing nothing. Junpei hated being still, it allowed his thoughts to fester.

The boy sat up straight and scooted his chair closer to his desk. He moved his mouse around, the monitor making a chirping sound as it turned on. He was greeted with his login screen, to which he put his password in and was greeted with his home screen. His wallpaper, which was a poster for one of his favorite movies, usually made him smile a little. Today it didn’t.

Nothing sounded entertaining enough. He didn’t feel like faking a happy demeanor in any of the drama-free public servers he was in, the ones that catered to the fanbases he considered himself a part of. He certainly wouldn’t be able to handle the saccharine sweetness everyone else put on either, knowing they were all faking it too.

Going through his Steam library didn’t help either. There was Terraria- and technically Minecraft too, since they’re pretty similar- but Junpei found those games boring unless he was playing with friends, the same ones he was ignoring. TF2 was more fun than those two, being one that he enjoyed playing by himself, but that was also a no.

The last thing he had was Youtube, but he doubted that would help him either if the others hadn’t been able to catch his interest.

And he was right. There were plenty of videos for him to watch, ones that had come out while he’d been at school, ones that he had definitely been excited to get to when he got home, but now he felt nothing. It’d be better if he just slept for the rest of the day, hoping that things would be better tomorrow. They wouldn’t be, but sometimes he still hoped. It was all he had sometimes.

Wait, wait… If I go to sleep now, Mom’s gonna get even more worried because I didn’t eat. I don’t need her getting on my case about that. And it’s gonna be worse if she gets drunk tonight, which she will because she has tomorrow off… And I don’t want her trying to cook if she’s drunk already. I guess I could pick up some ramen or something from the convenience store.

Looking over at the time, he figured now would be best to get said dinner before it got too dark. His mom got worried when he was out late; funny, because he always felt safer when he was dark, though that had more to do with the fact that he thought anywhere was safer if it wasn’t his school.

He left his room and went downstairs, seeing his mother in the living room. There was an empty can of beer on the coffee table, and she was already taking drinks from a second one. Just like I thought. “I’m going to the convenience store to get some ramen for dinner. What do you want?” He asked.

“Oh? You’re getting something cheap instead of cooking? My hopes of having a homemade meal are dashed…” The loud laughter that followed this showed that his mother was obviously joking, but Junpei clenched his fists despite that. You’re my mother! Shouldn’t you be the one doing the cooking? You can drink all you want afterwards, I don’t care! It’s just not my fucking job to cook for both of us!

He knew he was judging her too harshly. She worked constantly, she deserved to relax on her days off. But couldn’t she give him a little more effort than this?

“Can you get me some miso ramen? Oh, and don’t you need money? I don’t want you spending your allowance on me!”

Junpei rolled his eyes. What difference would it make when ramen was cheap enough for the price to not matter? “It’s fine, Mom. I’m off!” He quickly put on his shoes and left the house, not wanting to let that conversation go on any further.

It was pleasantly warm outside with it being summer, but Junpei wished it was a bit cooler so that he could wear a jacket or hoodie. Something with a hood to help cover his face, so that people wouldn’t look at him so much. His mother always said that his bangs did that well enough and that he shouldn’t feel bad about his appearance enough to cover part of his face, but Junpei liked it this way. Plus, now it was covering up the nasty burn marks that were now on his forehead.

The walk was quick, but Junpei stalled in the store for a little bit. Should he stock up on his snack supply? He’d been saving up his allowance to get a new console, but splurging every now and then wasn’t so bad, was it? He wasn’t about to ask his mom to buy him that stuff when their budget was already so tight. He was lucky to even get an allowance.

No, I should wait. She doesn’t want me to be out long, and she might get upset if I come home with more bags than I should have. I’ll just get them on my way home from school tomorrow. Without wasting any more time, he grabbed the miso soup his mom wanted and a cup of beef ramen for himself then checked out. The bag was light in his hand as he carried it home.

It was peaceful out here. Far more peaceful than it was at school, and he didn’t have to be stressed out at home knowing that his mother was drunk downstairs. He wished he could keep walking forever, but his mother needed her dinner. That’s when an idea popped into his head- why didn’t he just take a walk later? He’d go late at night, when few people were out. Sure, there might be a couple people, but who would really go out of their way to bother him? They’d just mind their business, and Junpei had no plans of bothering anyone either.

He needed to wait until his mother was asleep before he snuck out, obviously. Even if she was shitfaced, she still had it in her to be concerned for her son. Was that motherly instinct? Who knew, but this was one of those times where it was more annoying than endearing. Mainly because it was going to get in his way.

When he got back home, he was met with the sound of quiet sobs coming from the kitchen. Junpei was instantly on edge, creeping into the kitchen with a concerned look on his face. “Mom?” He said quietly, making sure his voice was as soothing as possible. “Mom, is everything okay?” She was drunk, he could already tell, but he was much more uncomfortable knowing she was upset about something. Knowing that she would be crying just downstairs if he went up to his room after making their ramen, he wanted to calm her down so it wouldn’t be weighing on his mind.

He set the bags down on the counter and went to stand by his mother, who had her head down on the table against her forearms. “Mom, what’s wrong?” He asked again. Please let this be easy. I can’t do this today.

“Oh, Jun…” His mother looked up at him with her tear-filled eyes, causing the boy to look away. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to give you a good childhood. “I-I’m trying my best, but it’s just… I know it wasn’t enough for you. I’m-I’m so sorry.”

So that’s what it was tonight. Junpei’s heard this a thousand times before; it tugged at his heartstrings, but it wasn’t what he wanted to hear right now. She was saying it because she wanted to be absolved of her own guilt, if only temporarily, and that was the quietest way he could get out of this damn kitchen.

“It’s okay, Mom. You don’t have to keep beating yourself up over this. “I’m doing okay, you know? It doesn’t matter that you weren’t able to treat me the way you wanted to. I know how hard you work for me, how could I not be grateful for everything that you do? Just keep going the way you are. You’ve got nothing to apologize for. Here, let me get these cups ready so we can eat.”

What should he use? Either way there was the risk of being pulled into a conversation he didn’t want to have. Using the microwave would be faster, but he’d have to do them one at a time, and after they were both finished, his mother might ask him to eat with her. Boiling water in the kettle would take longer, but he could pour the water into the cups at the same time, then dash up to his room. Ah, screw it. I guess I can put up with this a little longer.

He pulled the lid off the kettle to fill it up with water before putting it back on the stove. Maybe I’m babying her. She knows how to pour water into a cup of instant ramen, doesn’t she? It’s one of the easiest things in the world… But she’s drunk. What if she puts her hand right on the stove while it’s hot on accident? Or what if she forgets to turn the stove off?

But why am I so worried about it? Why am I so worried about her? She doesn’t want me to take care of her for real, does she? I mean, it’s fine if she wants the comfort right now… Except I don’t want to constantly do this. I want her to comfort me, but how am I supposed to tell her anything? She’ll just spout the same generic stuff, just in parent form.

“Junpei, do you want to spend some time with me this weekend?” His mother asked all of a sudden.

Huh? Where was that coming from?

“I might be studying with some friends,” Junpei said bluntly. His tone lightening up slightly, he added, “What did you have in mind? Do we have enough money for it?”

“We’ll work things out. But it doesn’t have to be this weekend! We could do it next week… I just want to spend some time with you.” She let out a sigh, putting her head back down. “It’s just been so long since we’ve last done something together…”

“I guess we could go out for dinner sometime. Don’t make it into some big deal.” He used to get scolded for being impatient and turning the stove on at the highest setting, but he did that now. The sooner these ramen cups were ready, the better.

“Okay! What sounds good, then? We could splurge and head to a steakhouse, have some barbeque! I remember how excited you used to get when I took you to one, though I also remember how grumpy you got when I wouldn’t let you grill the meat. I always let you have the first pick, though.”

“Stop being so nostalgic. It’s embarrassing.”

“What? I’m not allowed to talk about these memories? And how is it embarrassing? It’d only be embarrassing if your friends were here, and I don’t see any of them around.”

“That doesn’t mean I want a trip down memory lane.”

“And why not? We barely talk nowadays, Junpei. I know that I’m busy all the time, but at least I’m putting in effort. You’re the one that’s always pushing me away. Are you sure I haven’t done anything wrong? You can tell me the truth, I promise I won’t get mad.”

And anyone with a brain knows that’s a lie coming from a parent. Though admittedly, his mother had never been an angry drunk, just an emotional one. Still, he didn’t want her to get upset and start sobbing over what he said if he was honest. “Nothing is wrong, Mom. I just don’t want to talk about that stuff. I don’t like being nostalgic.”

“Then what do you want to talk about? Your games? Your movies? What about TV shows or anime? What’s cool with you kids right now?”

“Nothing, Mom! I don’t want to talk about anything! Stop badgering me!” He snapped.

As soon as those words left his mouth, Junpei regretted them. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach, which was already twisting with nausea. Karma. I fucked up.

“O-Oh…” His mother sniffled a little, wiping her eyes. “I understand. Sorry for getting on your nerves.”

There was no anger in her voice like there would have been in another parent’s. Junpei would have preferred that, honestly. After all, what son talked to his own mother that way? It was disgraceful. He hated when she got emotional, but right now he only had himself to blame. He could try backpedaling to take back what he’d said, but that would only do so much. He needed to apologize.

“No, Mom. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.” He shifted around in his spot. “School’s just been hard recently. It’s not an excuse, but it’s… You know. But me and my friends don’t have to study on Saturday. Our test isn’t until, um, Monday, so we can study on Friday or Sunday. Just as long as we study, we should be fine.”

His mother shook her head. “No, Junpei, it’s fine. I know how important studying is and I don’t want to take your time away. I’m sorry for bothering you like that.”

Junpei winced. Way to take it out of context and blow it out of proportion, Mom. It would be too late to apologize now. He’d have to wait a few days before trying again and hopefully catch her when she wasn’t drunk to make it easier.

The rest of his time spent in the kitchen was incredibly awkward. His phone was in his pocket, but he didn’t dare pull it out. Now wasn’t the time. Finally, the water came to a boil and he quickly poured it into their respective cups, grabbing a pair of chopsticks and going back up to his room. Once he was in his room, he let out a sigh of relief. What a mess.

Maybe at the very least, he could be grateful that his mom wasn’t the kind of parent who would ground him for anything. She never had, since she was usually never around to enforce her punishments.

As he ate, Junpei felt guiltier and guiltier. Why had he snapped at her like that, really? He knew that she was trying her best. He’d always known that. The least he could do was keep his feelings down so that she didn’t worry, and taking his anger out on her even slightly was unforgivable. Seriously, what was he doing? He was an awful son!

But don’t I deserve to be able to talk about my feelings no matter what? She IS my mom… And I know she does care about me, and she would do anything for me… And she’d listen to my problems… So why can’t I just bring myself to do it?

He groaned into his hands, frustration mixing in with his guilt. Things had always been like this. He’d get mad at his mom for trying too hard, then get mad at himself for pushing her away. He’d get mad at her for not being there for him when he never went to her himself. Didn’t that make it all his fault in the end? Why couldn’t he own up to that? More importantly, why couldn’t he just tell her the truth? Oh, he knew the answer to that question very well. Telling her the truth would mean having to open up about his problems with her, and Junpei knew that he would never be able to forget his mother’s tear-streaked face from hearing all of those things. So what if he was jumping to conclusions? They’d end up being right if he ever acted on things. It was a catch-22, and he would be better off just not acting on anything, or even thinking about it. It didn’t matter how much it tore him up inside when he didn’t matter in the end.

He still needed to clean up his act, though. Talking to his mom like that was something he just couldn't do. I’ll get her some flowers over the weekend. A coupon for one of her favorite restaurants too, if I can manage it. That was the least he could do to make up for it. A verbal apology… He could work on that later.

It wasn’t enough to fully pull him out of this dissociative state, but it was enough to get Junpei to finish up his ramen. A shame it’d gotten cold after he spent all that time in his head. Tossing the empty cup into his trash can when he was done, he leaned back in his chair and sighed. What should he do until his mother fell asleep?

— A few hours later, Junpei went downstairs to check and see if his mother was asleep yet. Sure enough, she’d made her way to her bedroom, where he could hear her snoring from where he stood. The coast was clear; he could leave without a problem. Putting his jacket and shoes on, he left his house into the dark night.

The sky was pitch black. No moon in the sky, and you’d have to squint to see the slightest hint of a star. Downsides of living in a city. Junpei wondered if maybe it would have been better if he’d been born in the countryside. He would have felt even more suffocated in a small town, though… Maybe there just wasn’t a place in the world where he could exist peacefully, where he could be himself without the fear of being horrifically bullied. But a place like that was a utopia, and utopias couldn’t exist. Paradise wasn’t real. A shame– he would have made one for himself long ago if he could have.

As he walked down the empty streets, Junpei started to wonder if this idea had been pointless. He didn’t have a destination other than to eventually go back home. He’d heard that getting fresh air was supposed to clear one’s mind, but being outside like this was just enforcing how lonely he felt, especially with not being able to tell anyone his true feelings.

All he could do was keep walking. So long as he turned around before his feet started to hurt too badly, everything would be fine– or so he thought.

Out of nowhere, there was a flash of lightning in the sky. Junpei looked up, startled and confused. Since when was there supposed to be a storm?

He counted the seconds until the thunder followed, revealing that it was still a few kilometers away. If nothing else, it was a sign that he needed to start heading home, even if the rain hadn’t started yet. He didn’t want to get caught in a downpour.

Junpei turned around, but his pace wasn’t urgent. If it did start, then he didn’t mind if it was just a drizzle. He’d start running if it ended up turning into a downpour that threatened to soak him and give him a cold. Would be nice to miss a couple days of school because of that, though.

Luckily for him, the downpour didn’t start until after he’d gotten back to his house. There’d been a couple drops on his head and the sidewalk had started to get wet from the slow but steady rain, but he wasn’t drenched. Junpei didn’t know what to make of this, especially when it was just weather being weird, but after the day he’d just had, his mind was jumping to a conclusion of spiritual coincidence. One that I should probably be contemplating up in my room.

Taking his time so as to not make so much noise, Junpei sat down in his computer chair once he was in his room and scooted over to his window that overlooked the street. Thanks to the streetlights, he was able to see the rain, albeit not very well. It was most certainly pouring now, and the lightning was directly above in the skies. It baffled him how quickly it had traveled here, yet somehow it hadn’t truly started until he got home. Was this the universe cutting him a break?

For the first time in the past few hours, he smiled. It didn’t mean a thing for what tomorrow would be like; it could be worse than today had been. All he could do was sleep and hope for the best.

Oh, and getting his mom an apology gift. He was better at expressing his feelings through actions, but words would come eventually. Just as long as she knew that he still loved her and always would, that would be the best start for him.

He went to sleep.

#my writing #tw bullying #tw smoking #tw cigarette burn #i'm still not the best at tagging triggers sorry

[not-bcring]

✩   「   @from-across-the-stars​   」   ✩   -   Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」   Silence speaks volumes, Kokichi resisting the urge to sit up and check to make sure that he wasn’t actually alone. That he didn’t start talking to himself in an empty room, Gundham and Kazuichi merely the manifestations of a cracked and desperate mind. Wouldn’t that be an impressive lie? Stomach sinks at the internal attempt at humor, the joke sitting heavily in it like a stone. Limbs feel like they share that heaviness, exhaustion creeping in from a source that Kokichi can’t quite place. It’s… scary. This type of tiredness. A sense of dread settling on his chest. A futility to it all. He’s been feeling that more often lately.

Ever since he screwed up massively with Kaz— chest pangs at the memory, only the faint twitch of his lip betraying the silent wince —he’s been wondering about next time. There’s bound to be one, right? An odd thought, but a persistent one. He’s gone so long without breaking down in front of anyone. His struggles kept in the shadows where they BELONG. But ever since growing closer with Gunnie and Kaz, he’s felt the cracks in his mask spiderwebbing. Walls weakening when it their company, for better or worse. Whether he wants them to or not.

How many times has he been vulnerable weak around them? How many more times will he have to go through those lapses in control? How many more times will THEY have to?

Is there really nothing he can do about it?

Do they think he’s worth the trouble?

Gundham breaks the overwhelming loudness of Kokichi’s thoughts suffocating quiet, like Kokichi figured he would. He tends to be the one wielding words during times of distress; for good reason, the breeder once again proving his prowess. Seeing Kokichi’s faults but not condemning him for them or determined to change what cannot be, but accepting what is. It’s almost unbelievable... but Kokichi forces himself to try anyway.

All while Kaz makes his way over with impressive stealth. Not that it escapes the little leader’s notice, an uncanny ability to guess the others actions— as well as an instinctive tingle in the back of his neck warning of someone approaching —helping Kokichi steady his breathing in preparation. Not wanting Kazuichi to feel how rapidly his heart is beating, as if it’s at war with his chest. Yet despite his internal distress, he doesn’t move at all. Afraid that so much as a flinch will discourage Kaz. He and Gundham treat Kokichi so carefully when it matters...

They understand HOW to... If it were anyone else, Kokichi would be terrified at their ability to tread through the minefield that is his emotional state. Part of him still is terrified, even if he refuses to admit it. But it’s a fear that’s steadily lessening... Silently, expression still focused on something far-off that the others can’t see, Kokichi lets himself be maneuvered into an embrace. Clinging to Kazuichi, arms wrap around him with a shaky, almost unnoticeable breath. As Kazuichi agrees with Gundham’s words, that hold grows a smidge tighter. A quiet, unnecessary plea for Kazuichi to stay where he is. As if he may leave without it.

Or disappear.

❝  Heh, yeah... Sometimes you dumbasses make it real hard to like you. It’s honestly impressive.  ❞  Kokichi says through a weak laugh, joke feeling wrong as soon as it tumbles from his tongue. Making his stomach feel ill, mind overthinks what normally would have been spoken in stride. With a confidence and understanding that he’s merely joking. That of course it’s a joke. How could it be anything but? A way to ease the tension and bring some normalcy back into the air, as Kokichi often views is his job to do... But right now, it only makes him tense up.  ❝  That’s a lie.  ❞  He adds with a suddenly-dry mouth, a faint tinge of disappointment in himself lacing the words.  ❝  ... You two are really easy to like.  ❞

He falls quiet after that, other thoughts left unsaid. Not that it’s not already known. Not that he hadn’t SCREAMED them at one point.  ❛  You don’t think I fucking HATE myself— ❜  Breathing grows a bit quicker, Kokichi’s brows lowering ever-so-slightly, his neutral mask beginning to slip. Swallowing discreetly, there’s no true use in hiding it anymore. He still tries. Kaz can likely feel the rapid pounding of his heart, the way he has to force air from escaping his lungs, the slight tremble in his hands...  ❝  I’m trying.  ❞

A quiet admission. A truth. Murmured into the air in the hope that it’ll be believed heard.  ❝  Even when it doesn’t seem like it— Even when... When that’s not enough.... Even if I know it’ll never be enough...  ❞  Some things are not capable of change, no matter how Kokichi struggles for it. Eyes grow glossy but don’t shed any tears, Kokichi forcing them back with blinks. Words reduced to a whimper, all he can manage is,  ❝  I’m trying.  ❞     「 ☆ 」

#(( ough indeed dfjkngdfjkgdfg )) #(( Kokichi 'trying to be Better for them but still thinks he isnt doing enough because truama is Hard to work past' Ouma )) #not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ; ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇꜱᴘᴀɪʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Kokichi IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴏɴᴇ ɪꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟ; ᴄ’ᴍᴏɴ ɴᴏᴡ! ❞ ◌ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴠ. ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Kokichi 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅᴇʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Gundham 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇᴄʜᴀɴɪᴄ ❞ ¦ 「 Kazuichi 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇɢɪɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ; ʜᴀʟꜰ ᴏꜰ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Kokichi and Kazuichi 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇꜱ; ‘ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Kokichi and Gundham 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[drones-of-innocence]

Short

Mario, straining to reach something:

Mario:

Mario: :(

Mario, sighing because he's too short: Luigi, I need help

Luigi, having seen the whole thing: Coming!

-Later-

Luigi, loudly to Peach: Hey, Princess, I have a hypothesis I want to test out

Peach, also loudly: Oh? Well, what is this hypothesis of yours, Luigi?

Mario, standing nearby: What are you talking about?

Luigi: Observe

Luigi, gathering Mario up in a tight hug:

Mario: Wha-?

Luigi, dramatically: Incredible. It is just what I thought.

Peach, clasping her hands to her chest: Oh! What conclusion have you come to?

Luigi, grinning: Mario is the perfect size for hugs.

Mario: !!

Peach: Amazing! Stupendous! I must test your hypothesis out for myself.

Peach, embracing Mario as tightly as she can:

Mario, heart exploding, soul leaving his body:

Peach: It appears your hypothesis was correct!

Luigi: This is a fantastic contribution to science!

Luigi:

Luigi: Mario?

Mario, sniffling: I;m fin e

#Mario #Nintendo #Luigi #Princess Peach #Brotherly love #Mario and Peach #OTP heh #Mario generally seems pretty secure about himself #But it's really hard to ignore when aspects of yourself are poked at for fun #Like how he's chubby and short #A lot of villains like to make fun of him #And that's bound to add up no matter how he may feel about himself #So he just needs to be reminded that he's the perfect size sometimes #And that his friends and family love him very much #Bwah I'm so soft for stuff like this #Wholesome #Also I bet the bros love hugs so much #They hug each other all the time #They are both so lovely to embrace and be embraced by #Silly thoughts

[lollypoppers101]

Hellooo, I have a request can you do Lucifer magne x fem reader nsfw alphabet or nsfw and sfw head-canons? Thanksss❤️

Sure can do! :)

Lucifer Mange nsfw and sfw hc’s!

————————————————————————————————————————

Gn!reader x Lucifer Mange

(I’m assuming Lilith isn’t in this so I didn’t add her, also keeping it gn since no specific ones were mentioned!)

SFW!

Now, I know for a fact, Lucifer will definitely walk the castle every morning, arm in arm the whole way, as well as the rare times he does take you into the city.

Lucifer can be, and is a very protective man, he may not be bigger than other demons, but stronger and more violent if he needs to be.

He’s a man that treats you with love, he will pull out your chair for you every time you go to sit down at a table, it’s only right of course, you are the second ruler of hell after all.

Charlie had met you, she just loves you to hell! You two bond easily, and that makes Lucifer love you even more.

Lucifer loves to waltz around in the ball room and gardens, he loves to dance with you, no matter you’re height, size or dancing skills, he will dance with you through the halls as well.

Every morning is woken up with gentle kisses along the face, and your hands, those are his favourite.

Will go all out for you, he’ll buy whatever you want, hell, he’d probably get it for free, after all, who has the guts and nerve to charge the king of hell and his spouse?

Cute nicknames are a must, either they go from corny nicknames, to soul mushing ones.

Lucifer isn’t afraid of holding you close every night and whispering sweet nothings in your ear about how much he worships you and how much he loves you.

NSFW!

I mentioned that Lucifer is possessive, and he’s not afraid to express that what so ever, so If he does see a new demon near you, he will get angry, who does this demon think they are? Standing near your presences like that? Don’t be surprised if that’s the time a gloved hand gets wrapped around your throat and fingers shoved into your mouth.

Lucifer does have a kink for public sex, even if it’s just in the area of the garden of the castle, he’s not afraid to pull up or pull down your clothes then and there, who’s going to stop him besides you?

He has one goal for himself that he keeps every time, to please and satisfy you first, he’s he may be cruel, but if your the Dom in the relationship, Lucifer is willing to beg at your feet in order to make you feel good.

Let’s say your not the Dom type, that’s okay, Lucifer is more than willing to fulfill that role as well, misbehave around him, see where that will get you, bounded and gaged over his lap with you’re red ass in the air.

He also has a primal kink, you’re weak to him, he could easily hunt you down through the palace, it’s a fun game he loves to play with you, he finds you, he’s going to humiliate you, make you beg and cry for his cock.

Now if you win, which is a very low chance, the man has lived in the palace forever, you’re not gonna stand a chance, but lets say if you do, well, the king of hell is sprawled out on the bed just for you’re eyes only, how lucky.

Aftercare with Lucifer is important, he will treat you to a bubble bath, it’s only fit for what’s best of you of course, he’ll get in with you, share some wine, who’s to say he won’t fuck you on his lap while your in there?

#lucifer magne #lucifer mange x trader #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel #Charlie mange #hell #gn!reader

[mackenzielovee]

ambivalence blurb: hit my line - rafe cameron

a/n: hehehehe hi guys! everyone's been asking for this so here we are, ms. wheezie's first date! as always, pls let me know what you think! xoxo

Warnings: swearing, slight sexual innuendos, rafe being overprotective

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"I don't like this. Have you even met this guy? Do you know his last name? I don't know why I can't go-"

"You don't know why you can't go?" you repeat back to him, phone on speaker on your lap as you drive.

He grunts into the phone, "You seem to think I shouldn't go."

"Did I clue you into that when I told you you can't go?" you laugh, "Rafe, come on. It's her first date, she likes this guy, just let her have this, okay? Interrogations don't typically happen until the third date."

"Sweetheart, she's been getting ready for two hours. She's thirteen."

"She's nervous. It's cute," you say. You turn your car into the driveway of the Cameron house.

"I'm coming outside," he sighs, then hangs up.

He emerges from the house just as you cut the engine. He hurries over to your door and pulls it open, then stares at you with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You look handsome," you try to lighten his mood.

He hikes an eyebrow high on his forehead, but you watch as his shoulders lose their tenseness. You hold your arms out as you stand from your seat, feeling him fall into you almost immediately.

"This is ridiculous. Can't I just come to be with you?" he asks.

"She doesn't want that, Rafe," you lecture. You scratch his back, listening to him sigh in your ear.

"Fine. Come home by nine. Will you spend the night?"

"Yes," you say.

Wheezie emerges from the house just as Rafe pulls himself off of you, and when he sees her, he immediately shakes his head.

"No. No dresses. Pants only. Go change," he points to the front door.

"Rafe, stop," you sigh.

"Shut up," Wheezie grunts.

"You look beautiful, Wheezie," you encourage her, noting silently how she's fidgeting with her hands. She's nervous, and it makes your heart melt.

"Thanks. We should probably get going," she says.

""Well, I was thinking-" Rafe starts, but Wheezie holds up a hand to stop him.

"No," she says, then climbs into the passenger seat of your car.

"Jesus," Rafe grumbles, "She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," you shake your head, glancing quickly at Wheezie in the car, "She's just nervous. I'll call you on our way home, okay?"

He nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead, "All right, baby. See you later."

You step back toward the driver's seat, "Love you."

"Love you, too. Love you, Wheeze. Have fun. Not too much fun, though," he yells to her. She just shakes her head.

He watches as the two of you pull away, ready to go pick up the boy Wheezie's so nervous about seeing. She messes with her phone and then busies herself flipping channels on the radio, doing anything to distract herself.

"You know, he doesn't mean to be annoying," you break the silence, "He's just protective. It's sweet. Means he cares about you."

She nods, "I know."

The car goes silent, and you're not sure what to say. The last thing you want to do is interrogate her or make her feel uncomfortable. You know Wheezie and you know that she will talk when she wants to.

Her phone reads out the directions to the boy's house (Aaron, you'd gotten his name, finally), and just as you're two minutes from his house, Wheezie speaks again.

"Tell Rafe he can come," she speaks quickly, voice bound with nervousness, "To meet us at the movies. So you're not alone."

She adds the last sentence to save face, you're sure. You can just tell; maybe it's a girl thing or a first date thing. But, you know she wants her brother there, no matter how annoying he may seem to her.

"Okay," you nod, "Thanks, Wheeze."

Once you pull into Aaron's driveway, you spy him standing outside on his porch. With a deep breath and her shaky hands unbuckling her seat belt, she climbs out of the car to meet him halfway. You quickly pull out your phone to text Rafe.

She wants you to come. She's so nervous, babe. Can you meet us at the movies?

You exit out of the messages once you hit send and then busy yourself on your phone, trying to give them privacy before they get back in the car.

Already on my way.

Rafe's reply makes you smile, because of course he'd been ready to jump in his truck after the two of you left. A big part of you is relieved he's coming, just wanting him to be close.

Wheezie pulls open the back door, making you drop your phone into your lap. She smiles sheepishly at you and you nod to her that Rafe's coming, then smile widely when your eyes meet Aaron's.

"Y/N, this is Aaron," Wheezie speaks up.

He climbs in the car and offers you his hand to shake, which you do.

"Hi, it's so nice to meet you, Aaron," you smile.

"You, too," he nods. He seems warm, friendly, just who you'd imagined Wheezie being interested in.

"Just pretend I'm not here," you whisper to them, then turn around and back out of his driveway.

The two chat on the way, showing each other Tik Tok's and seeing who can name the song first when a new one comes on the radio. You try not to listen, you really do, but can't help it. They seem good together, and Wheezie seems to relax after a bit.

When you arrive at the movies, you spot Rafe's truck immediately. He's leaning up against the side of it, arms crossed over his chest as he scans the parking lot. You pull in beside him, listening to Wheezie quietly warn Aaron about her brother.

Rafe walks over to your door, pulling it open and glancing in the back at the two. He doesn't speak right away, just looks back down at you.

"Hi," he's breathless, anxious.

"Hi," you reply, reaching for his hand.

Wheezie and Aaron hop out on the other side of the car, leaving you and Rafe with some space. He interlocks his fingers in yours, helping you out of the car.

"Is she okay?" he asks quietly.

"She's fine, baby," you say, watching him relax, "I think she just feel better knowing you're here."

He gives you a smile, then nods and leads you after them. You had promised Wheezie you'd give her space, and Rafe being here doesn't change that. You make him stand back in line, point out that Aaron pays for their tickets, which doesn't seem to impress him.

Rafe buys both of you tickets, then hurries you inside after them. When you both walk in, Wheezie's looking back at the door, eyes meeting Rafe's.

"She needs something," he insists.

You look to Wheezie, who gives you a smile and then turns back around. You tug Rafe back, stopping him from going to her.

"No, she doesn't. She's fine. Look."

You point to her, and both of you watch her laugh at something Aaron had said. He exhales, then nods.

"Did you like the guy?" he asks you.

"Yes. He's very nice. Very polite."

Rafe nods slowly, "That's good."

You smile up at him and squeeze his hand, watching as he follows them into the theater. Rafe watches the two pick seats, then leads you to the row directly behind them. You tug him back, shaking your head as you pull him up a few more rows. He's hesitant, but ultimately lets you win.

He sits down beside you, eyers glued on his sister and Aaron. You hang onto his hand tightly.

"Four rows up? Really?" he grunts to you.

"Give them some privacy, Rafe."

"They don't need privacy. They're thirteen. Trust me, I know exactly that that little shit is thinking right now-"

"Oh, please, enlighten me," you say, voice dripping with sarcasm, "Are these thoughts you had about me when you were thirteen?"

He clenches his jaw, "Obviously."

"Rafe Cameron," you gasp, pretending to be shocked, "You were objectifying me in your head back then?"

He rolls his eyes, squeezing your hand tighter, "It was hard not to. You're hot."

"Mhm," you grin, "Just relax. We can see everything from here and Wheezie's a smart girl. Just trust her, okay?"

"It's not her I don't trust."

You lean your head down on his shoulder, smiling softly when he presses a kiss into your hair, "I know."

Throughout the movie, you keep your eyes trained on the screen, and Rafe keeps his eyes trained on his sister. After about an hour, Aaron reaches his arm around the back of Wheezie's chair. Initially, you smile at the action, but spring into action when Rafe stands. Being six foot four, you immediately know the people behind you can't see.

"Sit down," you hiss.

"Baby-"

"Rafe," you whisper, using your hand that's still in his to tug him down.

He sighs and sits again, listening to you. After a minute to calm down, he leans down and rests his head on your shoulder, relaxing into you and finishing the movie without another outburst. When the movie ends, Rafe glances down at you, laughing at the fact that you'd repositioned him and put your head on his shoulder, then fell asleep.

Wheezie and Aaron walk up the stairs and stand in the aisle next to her brother, who greets Aaron politely, the way you'd want him to. You stir and Rafe lowers his voice, chuckling lightly at the two.

"We were hoping to get something to eat," Wheezie tells her brother.

"Oh, good. Y/N's starved," Rafe agrees.

"Maybe we could all eat together," Wheezie suggests, and earns a wide smile and agreement from Aaron.

Rafe nods in approval, then tells them that the two of you will be out in a minute. Aaron leads Wheezie out of the theater by wrapping her hand in his, which Rafe chooses to let go for Wheezie's sake. Rafe ignores her red cheeks as Aaron holds her hand, trying not to roll his eyes. Nobody will ever be good enough for her.

"Sweetheart," Rafe whispers.

You furrow your eyebrows as you stir on his shoulder, then angle your head so your nose presses into his neck. You leave a kiss there, his familiar scent filling your nose and making you smile.

"I saw the ending, I swear," you mumble against his skin.

He chuckles, "Really? I heard you snore forty minutes ago."

"I drifted in and out," you defend yourself, trying to prevent a smile from forming.

"Mhm," he hums, "Come on, sleepy head. We're gonna go get something to eat."

He looks down at you and watches your eyes pop open, knowing that's exactly the thing that will get you up. He'd heard your stomach growl and planned to get you food quickly after the movie, regardless of Wheezie and Aaron's plans.

"What do you mean by something?" you ask, then add, "Please say pizza."

Rafe laughs, "Pizza."

"Oh, thank goodness," you grin, "I feel like we're on our first date."

"Does that mean we're not having sex tonight?"

You roll your eyes and stand, trying not to laugh at the smirk he has growing on his lips.

"I don't put out on the first date. But, for you, I think I could make an exception."

Rafe's smirk transforms to a full on grin as he rises from his chair, standing in front of you and looking down. He takes your hand in his and leads you out of the theater, looking around for Wheezie and Aaron once you two emerge.

Wheezie teases you about falling asleep as Rafe holds Aaron back to talk to him about school, his grades, his friends, his spot on the baseball team. You look back every so often to level Rafe with a glare, telling him to leave the poor boy alone, but he waves you off. Silently, you pray for the boy.

The four of you pile into Rafe's truck with the promise of coming back to get your car later, and you're much too hungry to care about it.

Rafe drives the short distance to the pizza place, his hand wrapped around yours and his eyes rarely leaving the rear view mirror as he watches Wheezie and Aaron. You quietly try to get him to stop, but he just shrugs and pretends like he has no idea what you're talking about.

It takes Aaron exactly twenty minutes to win Rafe over. You all find a booth toward the back of the restaurant; you and Rafe on one side and Wheezie and Aaron on the other. Rafe, with his arm draped loosely around you, talks sports with Aaron in a menial way. When they realized they were fans of the same team, however, Rafe lit up like a Christmas tree.

You look at Wheezie and try to silently apologize, feeling guilty that she's not getting her time alone with Aaron. She just shrugs and smiles, seeming happier with the arrangement than you'd thought. She nods, promising you she's okay. You smile, then reach up and pat Rafe's shoulder.

"Stop yelling," you whisper to him.

His sports talk is known to get passionate. Meaning, loud.

"Sorry," he mumbles, lips grazing over your temple before he turns back to Aaron.

After a few more minutes, you rope Rafe into a conversation to give Aaron time to talk to Wheezie. The food comes shortly after, and you no longer feel like you have to play gatekeeper when it comes to Wheezie's date. You all laugh and have a good time, enjoying the company.

Rafe takes care of the bill and then corrals everyone outside, letting Wheezie and Aaron fall ahead. When he stops abruptly on the curb and pulls you back to him, you furrow your eyebrows.

"Come here," he says quietly.

"But, Wheeze-"

"Just for a minute, sweetheart," he groans, as if your objection is painful.

You smile and step into his arms, letting them close around you. He presses a kiss into your hair, breathing you in.

"Thank you for taking Wheeze on her date," he whispers, "And thank you for making me give the kid a chance. He's not bad."

You scoff, but hold back your comment that Rafe only likes Aaron because they share the same opinions on sports.

"You're welcome," you reply.

He smiles, then leans you back so he can give you a quick kiss. When you pout at how short it is, he smirks.

"Don't want the kid getting any ideas," he nods to Aaron.

You laugh, letting Rafe take your hand and lead you over to the truck. He opens the door for you and helps you up, then calls for Wheezie and Aaron to get into the truck.

"Time to get you home," he whispers to you, "Big plans."

You roll your eyes but smile, watching him smirk. He closes the door and then mutters something you can't hear to Aaron, telling him not to get any ideas sitting in the back with her. When they climb into the backseat, you look back at Wheezie and roll your eyes. She does the same, and you're glad that at least the two of you are in it together.

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