#✞ — i am the one thing in life i can control. // headcanons. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vibelladonna · 4 months ago

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✑ 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

Ah, kinks—something all humans have, especially those who read fanfics. I mean, who doesn’t love them? Whether it’s the soft, the spicy, or the downright unhinged, there’s always something that hits just right.

Let’s be real: scrolling through AO3, Tumblr, or Wattpad at 3 AM, looking for that one specific trope that scratches the brain itch?

Yeah, we’ve all been there.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

I mixed a bit of canon and my headcanons for Crowe and Sol in this one—yep, once again! This time, I kept it focused on just four kinks to keep it short and sweet.

Hope you enjoy reading!

[ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]

Starting, I’ve noticed that TKATB fans have their unique preferences when it comes to Sol or Crowe.

For example, fans who gravitate toward Sol tend to enjoy the idea of him being dominant—whether it’s being in control of him or just envisioning him taking charge. It’s that mix of power and intensity that gets people excited. You know who you are, you freaks!

On the other hand, fans of Crowe are drawn to his reliability, his deep understanding, and his caring nature. He’s willing to guide you through anything, offering both emotional support and strength. It’s comforting, isn’t it? And yes, I’m a freak too—I get it.

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

Naturally, I had to start with the man himself—Jericho, or Crowe, as he's known. Though the details are still unclear, he exudes a mysterious, almost savior-like presence. I WANNA KNOW SO BAD.

His style is effortlessly sharp, and his quiet confidence makes him instantly trustworthy. Reliable, steady, and composed, Crowe is the perfect support when life feels overwhelming. His charm is subtle, blending good looks with an alluring personality—irresistible, without ever being flashy.

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Crowe as kinky?

At first glance, no. Not. To a stranger, he’s too put together, with not even the faintest hint of anything unconventional beneath the surface. But as you get to know him, that answer begins to shift. Slowly, subtly, he reveals a side of himself that hints at complexity—an edge just beneath his polished exterior. However, don’t expect anything extreme or overtly wild.

What he does reveal is never too much but always just enough to leave you captivated—and maybe, just maybe, a little curious.

✑ Vanilla (Soft Dom…)

For Crowe preferences!!

He's the ultimate soft, warm partner. Like, you just know he's all about the quiet, comforting vibes. No crazy power dynamics or rough kinks—he's all about that steady, affectionate love. It's Vanilla, but in the best way possible, full of layers. He’s not rushing anything, just enjoying the little things, taking his time, and making sure you feel heard and cherished.

When you're with him, it's all slow and gentle—he’s not here for intense extremes. His love is patient, thoughtful, and wrapped in warmth. Every touch, every word, is like a soft caress, just so deliberate and tender.

And honestly? There's no need for anything crazy. Crowe's happy to explore your connection, build that trust, and just savor the passion that grows naturally between you two. It's the kind of love that builds and lingers long after.

Now… Crowe might be a soft dom—nah he IS A SOFT DOM.

Crowe’s not the type to push you past your limits just for the thrill of it. He’s not into playing mind games or testing how far he can take things. No, Crowe’s power is the quiet kind, the kind that makes you feel safe without even having to try. He knows the real strength is in taking care of someone, not in forcing them into anything they’re not ready for.

When you’re with him, it’s like he’s always tuned into you, always listening, always aware of exactly what you need. He’s the guy who doesn’t take, but gives—gives you everything he can, with a level of care that’s almost overwhelming. And even though he’s gentle, don’t get it twisted—he’s still a tease. He’s the kind of man who’ll leave marks on your skin, a subtle reminder that you're his. But it's all in the way he leads, in that steady hand that takes yours, guiding you through every little moment.

There’s nothing loud about Crowe—other than his moans and whining. I SWEAR he has pretty moans.

He doesn’t demand anything and doesn’t rush you, but he has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. When he touches you, it’s with a confidence that leaves you breathless but also comforted. He’ll press his forehead against yours, his hand guiding yours down to your stomach, just so you can feel his bulge inside you,how much he wants you, how much he’s thinking about you at that moment.

There’s no need for words—just that connection, that intense eye contact that says everything.

But yeah, he’ll also let you think you have the upper hand for a minute. Let you believe you’ve got him cornered, like you're finally taking control… only for him to flip the switch, regaining control without you even realizing.

With Crowe, it’s not about begging or pleading for pleasure—it’s about your happiness, your satisfaction. His version of dominance is the kind that wraps around you like a warm blanket, soft and cozy. He just wants to see you smile, hear you laugh—moan, and whine under him, and know that every moment spent with him is full of happiness.

So, if you're into a soft dom who values deep emotional connection, tenderness, and affection, Crowe’s your man! He just wants you to trust him, to let go and let him care for you. Let him be there for you in every single way, in every moment.

And in that, he gives you all the security you’ll ever need.

✑ Praise (giving + receiving)

Crowe is all about Praise, and affection through words. Imagine him pulling you close, whispering in your ear while his fingers gently trace patterns along your skin.

“You’re such a good girl for me, look at how well you take me, love. That’s my girl, always so ready for me, aren’t you?” His words make you feel safe, wanted, and cherished.

He doesn’t wait for you to ask for reassurance—he gives it freely, letting you know how much he appreciates having you around, and how much he loves seeing you smile. And when it comes to your body? He knows every inch of it like he’s got a personal map of your every curve and spot. He might even joke, “No one will ever know you like I do. I’ve ruined you for everyone else, haven’t I?”

Crowe has this vibe about him, like he’s always hungry to make sure you're feeling amazing, but don’t forget to show him some love, too. He thrives on hearing you praise him, especially when you whisper how much you need him, and how much he’s doing for you. The sound of your voice, the words you say—they get to him, melt him down until his heart's pounding.

Now and then, he’ll pull back, checking in on you, “You okay? Am I pushing you too far?” It’s not just about the rush for him. He wants you to be comfortable, to be in sync with him as he takes you through everything, slow and steady, giving you all that love. “That’s it, you're doing so well,” he’ll say, his voice smooth like syrup, making sure you know you're adored.

But here’s the thing: if you keep praising him, or if you’re the one in control, just wait. Crowe’s mouth? It’ll get filthy. AND I MEAN FILTHY. He can’t help it, don't be mean now...

I mean, you can. You giving him head? Taking his cock deep inside your throat, feeling he's about to cum, then you pulled back, teasing him. He'll say, "Please, my love, you were doing so good on my cock—please, please, keep going, I need that tongue of yours."

One of his favorite things is when you’re so into it that he can just forget what you say and speak directly to you, but in a way that’ll make your body react before your mind even catches up. Like, he’ll whisper, “God, you taste so damn good. Missed me, huh? Just wanna be filled up, don't you?”

His words drip against you, his eyes dark with heat, like he's speaking to your body, not even acknowledging your moans. “Such a good fucking pussy. Always making me feel so damn good. Want me to stuff you full, hm?”

And when it’s all done? Crowe doesn’t just drop it and move on. He’s got aftercare down to an art. He’ll guide you through it, keep you close, making sure you’re okay, settled, and cared for, getting ready to do it all again whenever you’re ready!

✑ Experimentalist

Crowe is the kind of man who never wants to leave any stone unturned, especially when it comes to experiences.

There was something about him that screamed experimentalist—like he needed to try everything, no matter how wild or unconventional. When it came to relationships, he was always up for anything, which meant he'd probably had more relationship experiences than most people you knew.

His mind is open, impossibly so, and he had an insatiable curiosity that could never be satisfied. He’d never form an opinion on something without diving in and getting his first-hand taste. If there was something new to try, something out-of-the-box—Crowe was there, ready to explore.

And honestly? He didn’t even need you to ask twice. If you suggested something wild, he’d be all in—his enthusiasm infectious, his curiosity never-ending.

However, he's pretty vanilla when it comes to experimenting, so don't expect him to go TOO hardcore. If there's a kink suited to his taste and he masters it? Oh, Babe, you'll feel it—so much in fact.

Take ropes, for example. Blindfolds? Handcuffs? Oh, he is intrigued. But, again, don’t expect anything brutal. He isn't the type to be into floggers or paddles; no, pain isn't needed for his skills. It is his anticipation. The slow burn of him carefully tying you up, not in a rush, but with the kind of patience that made every moment last longer.

When his hands hovered over your skin, it wasn’t just touch—it was electric. He’d make sure to linger, let his fingers graze over every inch, just enough to make you shiver, your breath hitching in the air between you. It wasn’t about hurting you, not at all. No, it was all about the build-up—the moment when the ropes or restraints were placed just so, tightening the tension between you both until it was practically unbearable.

And then? When you finally let go, it was a release so sweet and steady that it left you breathless. No rushing, no quick fixes—just a slow, fulfilling pleasure.

Adding on, Crowe loved the idea of restraint. Whether for fun, for art, or for that extra little spark of excitement, there was something about having you completely at his mercy.

And if you ever flipped the script? If he was the one getting tied up? Like I said, Crowe will be just as filthy when he lets his guard down.

✑ Dacryphillia

Okay, hear me out. I know what you’re thinking—"Crowe? He would never hurt me. Why would he want to see me cry?" And I get it, really. This is one of those wild ideas but just stick with me for a second.

You know how he’s all about emotions and deep connections, right? Get it?

He gets this deep fascination with what you feel and show, especially when it’s raw. Here’s where it gets interesting: Dacryphilia. Yeah, I’m talking about that thing where someone gets... well, aroused by tears, by the sound of you sobbing, the whole mess of emotions.

So, let’s imagine this: You’re begging him, pleading for more. Your face is a mess of emotions, eyes watery, tears rolling down your cheeks. And yeah, he’s gonna ask if you’re okay because that’s the kind of man he is—always checking, always making sure. But if you keep begging for more? Oh, that’s when it gets dangerous.

Each desperate plea of yours, each tremor in your voice, just fuels this fire inside him, an all-consuming fire. His eyes? They’re practically glowing, deep blue, and locked on you like he's drowning in you, in every little thing you’re feeling.

You can feel him there, so close you can almost taste his breath on your skin. His lips brush against your ear, a soft, teasing whisper sending shivers down your spine. "So desperate for me already, huh? We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet..." His voice is low, and dangerous, like he’s savoring every second of this.

You know he’s enjoying this. Every inch of him is hooked, and once he has you like this, there’s no going back.

Crowe’s could be teasing you for what feels like hours, driving you wild with a mix of pleasure and frustration. He’s pulled every bit of sensation from you, your body trembling with each orgasm, each touch—until you’re left aching for more. You’ve come undone on his fingers, his tongue, but now, you’re desperate in a way that makes your chest ache.

You need him, inside of you, filling you up, but he’s holding back. Just barely, he brushes against you with his cock, grinning at the whine that slips from your lips.

His fingers tease your entrance, and you can’t stop yourself from begging, voice shaky, "Please... Please, please." You repeated. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as they fall helplessly. The emptiness without him feels unbearable.

Crowe tilted his head, the smirk on his face practically dripping with playful mockery. “Just please?” He dragged the word out slowly, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Tell me what you want, love. What is it you’re begging for?” His hand slid up your stomach, hand pushing down lightly as if testing the waters.

A soft moan released from your lips as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, the playful glint in his eyes shifting into something darker, more calculating. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

His soft gin stretched wider as you stumbled over your words, desperate and disordered, pleading for more. He could tell you were unraveling, and it only pushed him further, each whimper was like a small victory.

“You’re falling apart, love,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need... just say the word.” You could barely focus as the desperation built into your chest. His control over you was unnerving, yet exhilarating. The tears running down your cheeks were a mix of frustration and need, a silent scream for him.

“I need you, Crowe. Please...” Your voice was broken, but he was the one who was in control, studying the way you reacted like a willing experiment.

Crowe’s hand lifts gently to your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears streaming down your face. He gives you a soft grin, his voice low and teasing. “Already crying for me, huh?” he murmurs, almost amused. His thumb slips past your lips, letting you taste the salty remnants of your emotions. "We’ve just started," he adds, a soft chuckle escaping him.

Before you can respond, his hips jerk forward, pushing into you with one swift, forceful motion. The shock of it makes your breath catch, and Crowe can’t help but smirk, his eyes glinting with that dangerous, experimental gleam.

Every move, calculated and deliberate, is part of his twisted exploration. And you? You’re the willing subject.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

Sol is described as a “stinky basement-dwelling yandere”—ngl, this alone made me laugh. He’s a quiet kid, the one who lingered at the edges of every room, observing, never quite fitting in.

Beneath his reserved exterior was a complexity most couldn’t fathom. He’s incredibly smart, with a sharpness that slipped through his words when he spoke, though he rarely bothered to. His talents leaned toward the arts, paintings, and writings.

And yet, at the end of the day, Sol isn’t exactly smooth. He was hopelessly inexperienced when it came to relationships. He gets no bitches, and honestly, he probably doesn’t even try. But in his inexperience is a certain rawness, and once you did get to know him, he’ll flirt or charm you. But before, he just watched and wanted.

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Sol as kinky?

Yes, let’s not sugarcoat it—he is kinky asf. Of course, he is. There was no way someone as quiet and repressed as Sol didn’t have a horny side, one he tried to keep buried but couldn’t fully hide due to his love for you.

✑ Switch (A Pervert…)

Now, about Sol’s... preferences.

From reading his relationship information card and playing the game. He is a paradox, a Switch in every sense of the word. He didn’t neatly fit into the mold of “always dominant” or “forever submissive.” Oh no, that would be far too mundane for someone like him. He's not a standard yandere people.

Sol is a man of extremes, a “pervert” in the most endearing, shameless sense of the word. He believed in living freely, without the shackles of societal expectations or traditional constraints. Ethics, morality, conventional roles—he’d toss them aside without hesitation if they stood in the way of his desires.

When he takes the reins as Dominant, Sol is the type to lean into theatrics, pushing boundaries with a devilish grin and that mischievous gleam in his eyes. He had a talent for making the experience unforgettable, for making you feel as though the entire world had melted away, leaving only the two of you. But when the tables turned, when Sol found himself in the more submissive role, he’d throw himself into it with equal fervor.

He’d challenge you to prove your worth, tease and push until you stepped up to the plate, and then—when you finally did—he’d surrender so completely that it'll feel like a victory worth savoring.

To Sol, sex and relationships weren’t just about power dynamics or tradition. They were a playground for exploration, a place where the only rule was to follow what felt right. With his “anything goes” mentality, Sol turned every interaction into a kaleidoscope of passion and unpredictability.

As mentioned, Sol, can’t help himself when it comes to you.

Let’s say he has this thing—Voyeuristic Disorder, to be precise, a fancy word for being a pervert. Dosn't care to see anyone else naked. Only you he wishes to see. He was obsessed with watching you, whether you knew it or not. In public or private, it didn’t matter.

He just liked being there, lurking in the shadows, soaking in every moment. Watching you do the most intimate things, completely unaware that he was there.

There was something so exhilarating about seeing you—your bare skin, the way you moved, the little things you did when you thought no one was watching. He couldn’t resist. The way your body reacted, the sounds you made when you didn’t know he was there—it was all he needed.

Deadass, I’m shocked that the creator of the game never added a specific scene where you were taking care of yourself in bed—you freak, oblivious to him sneaking a peek from the window, his hand on his cock, jacking himself off, doing exactly what he does best. Watching.

He didn’t let societal norms dictate how he expressed himself or who he loved. He was unapologetically himself—messy, chaotic, and a little too intense for most people’s taste. But for those brave enough to step into his world, you, well, if you picked him, that is.

Sol will offer an experience unlike any other: one filled with unrelenting honesty, unbridled passion, and a love that refuses to be anything less than extraordinary.

✑ Praise (Receiving)

Sol isn't the type of man you’d peg as desperate for validation—at least, not at first glance. His sharp, confident exterior gave the impression of someone who had the world at his feet, who didn’t flinch under pressure or crack beneath judgmental stares.

But peel back the layers of this supposed nonchalant and cool type of man, and you’d find a truth that was much more human, much more raw. Sol craved praise. Why? Perhaps it was the lack of it throughout his life. His track record for romance was, let’s say, less than impressive. Not because he lacked charm or good looks—he had both in spades—but because his overbearing aura and unapologetic eccentricities tended to drive most people away.

They didn’t understand him, couldn’t see past the way he challenged conventions. He wore his "loser" title like armor. After all, who cared if he didn’t have admirers lined up at his door? He didn’t need anyone... right? Yet, when someone, such as you, did manage to offer him an honest compliment, something sincere, it was like watching a dam break.

His confident smirk would falter for a second, his eyes softening, betraying the vulnerability he worked so hard to conceal. Sol wasn’t accustomed to receiving love—real, genuine love—and when it came, it hit him like a truck

✑ Masochist

The first time you noticed Sol’s tendency to endure pain, you’d thought it was just his stubborn nature. He’s always been the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve when it came to you—raw, unfiltered, and unapologetically vulnerable. But as time went on, you began to see something deeper beneath that tough, rebellious exterior.

Sol wasn’t just someone who endured pain; he seemed to embrace it…? almost thrive on it, especially when it comes to you.

Sol is, without a doubt, a masochist. Not in the twisted, sadistic sense, but in an almost heartbreaking way. He’d do anything to please you, to earn your attention—even if it meant enduring the unendurable.

He could never be a sadist. No, he loved you too much to ever inflict pain on you, physically or emotionally. The very thought of hurting you would make his stomach churn. Instead, he channeled all his devotion into being by your side, no matter the cost.

There were moments when his tendencies became painfully obvious. Like he gets into fights back to back, defending himself or you—for example, the movie theater bathroom or the Campus library (With or without.)

You hadn’t/have even been there to witness it—Sol hadn’t wanted you to see him like that, bruised and bloody. But when you found out later, he brushed it off with that crooked grin of his, the one that hid just how far he’d go for you. “It’s nothing,” he’d said, wiping the blood from his lip. “They deserved it for talking about you like that.”

Or that time with Crowe. It had been an innocent moment, just you laughing at something Crowe said, but to Sol, it might as well have been a dagger to his chest. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, nails digging into his palms until they drew blood. He didn’t want to feel that way—jealousy mixed with self-loathing—but he couldn’t help it. Watching you walk away with someone else, even for a moment, was unbearable.

It wasn’t that he enjoyed the pain; it was just that he could handle it, even when it tore him apart inside.

And in the quiet, intimate moments, Sol’s masochistic streak became something else entirely. If you picked him willingly, He’ll trust you, and loved you, enough to let down every last defense he had. He didn’t just endure pain; with you, he could find meaning in it.

A sharp bite, nails dragging down his back—he shivered under your touch, his body responding in ways he didn’t fully understand but didn’t question. For him, it wasn’t just about the sensation; it was about the connection, the way it brought him closer to you.

Masochism, for Sol, wasn’t about pain tolerance. It wasn’t about how much he could take. It was about the way he found a strange, twisted kind of comfort in it. The pain wasn’t the point; it was the context, the giver—you. Sol would never seek out pain for its own sake, but if it was for you, if it meant being close to you, he’d endure anything.

Even in the game, he seemed to attract hardship like a magnet, always the one taking the hits—physically and emotionally. Whether it was the bullies who thought he was an easy target or the way he seemed to hurt himself just to prove his devotion to you, Sol carried it all with a quiet, unshakable resolve. Because, at the end of the day, it wasn’t about the pain. It was about you.

And he’d never stop. For Sol, loving you wasn’t just a choice—it was a part of who he was. If being close to you meant enduring the worst the world could throw at him, he’d take it all with a smile. Because that’s who Sol is. A damn masochist.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

✑ Somnophillia

It was inevitable, wasn’t it? Everyone could see this coming from a mile away—there was simply no other possibility. Sol, in all his twisted complexity, had long blurred the line between obsession and affection, his love taking on forms most would never dare to comprehend.

Some might accuse him of holding darker urges, like necrophilia, drawn to the lifelessness of the dead. But no, that isn’t Sol. Despite his obsessions, there was a deep-rooted sentimentality within him—a refusal to let go, to lose. If anything, he had made it clear in his own hauntingly poetic way: he’d rather die with you than live without you.

Yet, that didn’t mean his desires were any less unnerving. No, Sol’s particular brand of affection manifested in somnophilia, a fascination with the vulnerability of sleep, the beauty of your unconscious form. To him, those moments were sacred—your body relaxed, your mind adrift in dreams. It was when he felt closest to you, unguarded and free from the chaos of the waking world.

Before your relationship, it started innocuously enough—or so it seemed. He’d find ways to end up at your apartment, invited by some pretense or perhaps even through sheer charisma. And then, ever so subtly, he’d lace your drink with something to make you drowsy, to keep you from suspecting as his fingers ghosted on you.

You lay there, utterly still, utterly serene, your chest rising and falling with the kind of peaceful rhythm that seemed to still the chaos of the world around you.

It was maddening, the way you looked so untouched by the noise that haunted him, your lips slightly parted, the barest whisper of breath escaping them. Every exhale was a siren call, soft and unassuming, but it gripped him like a vice.

His gaze wandered, helplessly drawn down the curve of your cheek to your lips. They looked soft, and inviting in a way that felt almost cruel. He wanted to press his own to them, to taste whatever peace you’d found and see if he could borrow just a fraction of it for himself.

But it wasn’t just your lips. His eyes traced lower, following the lines of your body, the way your clothes clung to you, hinting at the form beneath. He shouldn’t be thinking like this—he knew he shouldn’t. And yet the thought of you, warm and pliant beneath him, invaded his mind, unrelenting.

He swallowed hard, trying to shake it off, but the more he fought, the more vivid the thoughts became. The sound of your soft sighs, the way you’d move under his touch, how you’d look at him—not like this, not sleepily and unaware, but awake, wanting.

God, he was losing it.

Sol leaned back, running a hand through his hair, forcing his gaze away from you for a moment. But it didn’t matter—your image was burned into his mind, and there was no escape. Watching you sleep was his guilty pleasure, though his guilt barely lasted long enough to stop him from pressing further.

Once the two of you were together, the dynamics shifted, but only slightly.

Sol’s obsession deepened, and the lines of consent became more of a gray haze in his mind. To him, love was devotion—complete and all-encompassing. And if you loved him, shouldn’t you accept him entirely? Shouldn’t you trust him to care for you, even when you weren’t awake to see it?

He was careful, always so careful with you, so don’t worry!

His lips found their way to the sensitive curve of your inner thigh, his movements slow and deliberate as if savoring every second of this quiet moment. You stirred faintly, a sleepy whimper escaping your lips as the warmth of his mouth brushed against you, teasing and tender.

Sol’s hands gripped your hips gently but firmly; his fingers splayed across your skin to hold you in place. You tried to shift, your body instinctively responding to the soft, wet pressure of his tongue on your needy cunt, but his strength was unyielding.

“Shh,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper in the stillness. One hand slid up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb lingering for a moment as he marveled at the serene expression you wore, so unaware of the devotion he poured into every touch. “You’re even more beautiful like this,” he breathed, his words an intimate confession meant only for the dark.

To Sol, this meant everything.

This was the essence of love itself—intimacy beyond words, a bond that transcended anything others could hope to understand. He wasn't like anyone else; he knew that, and perhaps that’s what made this feel so special.

So sacred.

There was a quiet possessiveness in the way he worshiped you, a deep yearning to etch himself into every corner of your being, to ensure no one else could ever touch the part of you that belonged to him.

And as you stirred again, a soft moan escaping your lips, Sol smirked against your skin, the faintest edge of smug satisfaction curling at the corner of his mouth. You might not fully wake, but you’d feel him—his touch, his adoration, eventually his cock. You’d know, even in sleep, that you were his world.

To be with him, you’d have to accept all of him. Even the shadowed obsession that came with it.

#the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back crowe #the kid at the back sol #solivan brugmansia #jericho ichabod #tkatb #tkatb crowe #tkatb sol #the kid at the back vn #crowe ichabod #crowe x reader #sol x reader #sol brugmansia #tkatb vn #tkatb smut #tkatb head canons #tkatb x reader

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church-of-crayak · 2 months ago

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i am NOT the first to do this (this post from pfeffaroo comes to mind) and i will also not be the last but here is my personal take on the mane six if they were andalites!

i have a few personal headcanons about andalite tail blades and their many shapes and sizes, and i also love bending the rules of "blue and tan" when i can because I Enjoy Having a Bit of Fun. i think they would each manicure their blades into shapes that they like, and also, i love using the tail blade and hooves to cheat accent colors into my andalite designs anyway!!

ok more headcanons: i like to think that twilight starts as aristh twilight sparkle, put into that position by celestia (an old war-princess) after studying science all her life, and her promotion at the end of season three is to war-princess. i think pinkie and rarity are the only two of the group who use all four eyes to look at things, twilight and rainbow dash being trained not to as arisths and applejack being warned against it by her family. i think fluttershy looks around all the time because she's very anxious.

i think spike is a baby hork-bajir and the changelings are the yeerks. chrysalis would have the rank of visser one, and would be the only morphing andalite-controller. i can only imagine this makes the crystal ponies human? there aren't many named crystal ponies though.

anddd finally i think rainbow dash and applejack are the tailfighters of the group. pinkie and fluttershy file their blades blunt due to pinkie's love of moving around erratically (occupational hazard) and fluttershy's pacifism, rarity doesn't wish to get blood on herself, though her tail blade is very sharp, and twilight is just bad at it.

#myart #animorphs #mlp #andalite #mane 6 #i have a hard time deciding who i'd like to be the estreen of the group because it would make sense for it to be fluttershy #but wouldnt it be funny if it WEREN'T fluttershy. like what if rainbow dash got the estreen powers. that would go to her head #applejack would be chill about it #ANYWAYYYY. i know im cheating with the colors. shhhhhhhh #blue and tan isn't enough for me. besides #pinkie's name is PINK #i cant just have her be not pink

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kxsagi · 1 month ago

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waiitttt imagine going panty shopping w the bllk boys 🤭🤭 do you think they'd be shy ?? lolll

“𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚’𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭”

a/n: okay so i made this a little bit more of them like shopping in victoria’s secret for the first time since you’re their first and only gf (headcanon edition) + they pay for everything

i am literally OBSESSED with that store, at the mall, i can barely hold myself back from going in there and coming out with the cute pink striped shopping bag omg my bank account 💔

ft. isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, chigiri hyoma, shidou ryusei, kaiser michael, karasu tabito, itoshi sae

𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐲𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐢 - “𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬”

walking into the store, he’s confident, cool, and calm, until he spots the rows of lacy lingerie and cutesy sets. his face immediately turns bright red, and it’s like someone hit the pause button on his entire personality.

for the rest of the trip, he awkwardly stares at the ceiling, suddenly fascinated by the decorative lights or the patterns in the floor tiles, anything to avoid looking at the lacy wonders around him. the moment you hold up something a little suggestive and ask, “what do you think, love?” he’s already looking anywhere but at you.

inside, he’s probably dying from the sheer embarrassment, but he keeps trying to act like this is completely normal, which only makes the whole thing more adorable.

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒: “𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬?!”

you know he’s out of his depth when he stares at the wall of bras like it’s a puzzle he’s been trying to solve for years.

“wait, there’s a difference between balconette, demi, and full coverage?!” he whispers to you, clearly panicking at the sheer variety of options. he’s desperately trying to keep up with all the terminology, but it’s all too much.

at this point, he’s holding one bra like he’s trying to figure out the meaning of life. you can’t help but laugh at how lost he looks, but you’re also secretly proud of him for wanting to learn, even if he’s completely confused.

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 - “𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐭”

he walks in and immediately takes control of the situation by grabbing every single piece you hand him. you’re planning on picking out a few things, but he’s already holding onto three bags before you’ve even made it past the first section.

when you tease him about it, he just shrugs it off with a smile like, "i’ve got it, angel. i’m your personal shopper today." you have to admit, it’s kind of adorable how he’s fully committed to the cause, even if he’s holding onto a bunch of pink totes and looking a little silly.

the best part? he insists on carrying everything for you, even if you don’t need the help. he’s happy to be there, even if it means looking like a fashion-forward mule with a ton of shopping bags hanging off his arms.

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒: “𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝”

the best part? after checking out, he’s walking through the mall with a proud grin on his face, holding that pink victoria’s secret bag like it’s a badge of honor.

he’s lowkey hoping someone will ask what he bought just so he can proudly say, “i went shopping for lingerie with my girlfriend,” with a completely unapologetic smile.

at this point, he’s way too happy about the experience, walking a little taller, chest puffed out, and feeling like he’s just won boyfriend of the year. you can tell by the way he’s grinning that he’ll remember this trip as a highlight of your relationship.

𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐫𝐢𝐧 - “𝐟𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜”

the first few minutes are easy: he's walking around like a chill boyfriend, checking out some of the bras on the wall, pretending he’s seen it all before. but the minute you turn a corner and step into the section with more daring pieces, like the push-up bras or the sheer lace sets, his entire demeanor shifts.

he tries to act casual and aloof, his hands in his pockets, trying to act like he’s totally unfazed by all the… suggestive material surrounding him. but his eyes? his eyes are darting around like he's trying not to be caught sneaking a peek at the more revealing items.

he even tries to start up a casual conversation with you about something completely unrelated, like “did you hear of that new horror movie that just released?” just to avoid the possibility of you catching him staring a little too long at a satin thong.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐢 𝐡𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐚 - “𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞”

once he realizes how much fun he’s actually having, he falls into consultant mode. you're holding up a few items, and suddenly, he’s transformed into the perfect mix of fashion expert and personal cheerleader.

“hmm, the lace on this one is nice, but i think this other one is more you,” he says, pointing to another set with a thoughtful look. “you should definitely try this one on.”

he’s genuinely focused, comparing different cuts, colors, and fabrics like he’s running an intimate fashion show in his head. you can't help but laugh because you weren’t expecting him to take this so seriously. but he loves seeing you happy, and if giving his fashion opinion means you walk out with a set you adore, then he’s in it to win it.

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐲𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐢 - “𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢��𝐠 𝐟𝐮𝐧”

at some point, he starts to enjoy himself. you might be the one shopping for lingerie, but now he’s fully invested in your shopping experience.

suddenly, he’s holding up all sorts of things with exaggerated flair, like an over-the-top stylist. “you should totally get this satin robe. imagine how gorgeous you’d look in it,” he says with a playful grin, picturing you in it already.

he's not even pretending to be disinterested anymore, he's genuinely enjoying picking out things with you, helping you mix and match, and giving you encouraging compliments as you try on outfits.

𝐤𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 - “𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐞”

after a few minutes of nervousness, he gets comfortable in the store and flips into playful mode. you’re picking out a few things, and he spots a push-up bra on a nearby shelf. with a mischievous smirk, he picks it up, walks over to you, and holds it up to your chest with a teasing grin.

“you don’t even need these, schatz,” he says, grinning like a little devil, and before you can even respond, he’s mockingly cupping your chest as if to make a point.

you swat him away in embarrassment, but he just laughs at how flustered you’re getting. you can’t help but smile too, because underneath all his teasing, there’s that glint in his eyes that shows just how much he loves making you laugh.

𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐨 - “𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦”

just when you think things are going smoothly, a sales associate approaches to offer help. your boyfriend, now standing a bit too close to the lacy underwear section, freezes like a deer caught in headlights.

the associate turns to him with a smile and asks, “can i help you find anything, sir?” and without missing a beat, he awkwardly stutters, “oh, uh, no, i’m just… here,” his voice trailing off.

he then tries to backpedal without looking too suspicious, but ends up bumping into a table of thongs, knocking over a display in a clumsy panic, which only makes him blush harder. it’s as if the universe is conspiring against him.

𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐬𝐚𝐞 - “𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐯 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭”

you’re looking through a few brilliantly colored lace sets when he casually picks up a random pair of lacy panties. he looks at them for a moment, clearly thinking, “maybe this would look nice on her.” but then, he suddenly realizes he’s holding them up like a creep.

his eyes widen in absolute horror, and he practically flings them back onto the table, face bright red. he looks around quickly to see if anyone saw his embarrassing slip-up, only to find you watching with a small smirk.

“did you just...?” you tease, and he looks so mortified that it’s almost too cute. but hey, it’s still adorable how flustered he gets, even though he’s just trying to be sweet.

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spatialwave · 4 months ago

Text

Jayce Talis as a Husband & Father | Headcanons

➸ ask: "hiii i was wondering if you could do post s2 arcane headcanons for Jayce?? like jayce x wife!reader that have a newborn baby??" ➸ pairing: jayce talis x wife!reader ➸ word count: 923 words ➸ tags: mdni! sfw, fluff, comfort, mentions of jayce’s trauma, pregnancy, headcanons, childbirth, parenthood, canon-divergent ending. ➸ notes: i went really poetic with this idk why. also this definitely heightened my already terrible baby fever……. please for the love of god send me more asks about girldad jayce, i am begging you. i love writing these.

When you met Jayce Talis, you fell madly in love with him almost instantly—as did he with you. Within the first six months of your relationship, he proposed to you with a ring that he’d smithed himself, adorned with a hextech gemstone that sparkled unlike anything you’d ever seen. Of course, you said yes… and moved in within that same week.

Living with Jayce Talis meant dealing with the aftershocks of what he’d gone through during his time in the arcane and subsequent war. With a permanently injured leg and mental wounds that left him cursed by night terrors, you were they by his side to help him overcome his past. You were the rock he hadn’t known he needed, the one who encouraged him to keep fixing what he’d broken (and not without his partner, Viktor.)

Although he’d gone through hell and back, he found joy and happiness in you again. No longer was he filled with anger and guilt for allowing his naivety to take control of what was right—all Jayce wanted was to be happy. With you.

When you found out you were pregnant, Jayce was over the moon, excited and horribly nervous. He constantly worried whether or not he’d be a good father, and the absence of his own in his life made him uncertain. He would spend countless evenings with his mother, asking her hundreds of questions about parenthood, which either made it better or worse depending on what he wanted to know.

However, the worry washed away when he held his little girl in his arms—weighing shy of six pounds and so tiny in his arms. It was a beautiful sight, a rugged man with messy hair, scarred arms, and calloused hands holding the love of his life.

Your daughter brings out a side of Jayce that Viktor told you is reminiscent of his life when they first met all those years ago: gentle, curious, nervous and much too excited.

Jayce is messy and clumsy in his parenting, learning as he goes, but he is so dedicated. He’s used to being covered in stains but no longer in oil and soot from his work. Now it’s spit-up and dried milk… among other things. And to you, he’s never looked sexier than when he’s a mess.

Even though he’s still a councillor and working with Viktor on restabilizing hextech, he makes time for his family. The days of late-night tinkering in the lab or long council meetings are in the past because there is nothing more important to him than you two.

He is a very overprotective dad, constantly worrying about the little things and often getting sleepless nights because he checks on her one too many times to make sure sleeping soundly in her crib. He baby-proofs your home with everything he can make—doorstops, locks for the cabinets and removing any of his work from his home to the lab so there are no accidents. It’s cute, but considering that your daughter is shy of two months old, the baby-proofing tends to get in the way, but you let him. ‘Father knows best’ is a term he coins and uses, much to your annoyance.

Jayce always splits the tasks of parenting between you two but is never opposed to taking on more than you if you need the rest. As you slowly transition to include bottle feeding in your routine, he takes on nightly shifts for you. You find him asleep a few times, sitting up against the crib with a blanket covered in spit-up draped over his shoulder and an empty bottle in his hand.

He is a sentimental man. He makes a locket that he wears as a necklace every day, tucked beneath his clothing, and shows it off to anyone that he can—a photo of you and your daughter inside it.

You swear you’ve never been more in love with Jayce than you are now. A loving father and husband who doesn’t let his new role as a parent overshadow his love for you.

He’s just as romantic as he was the first time he took you on a date. A month after you gave birth and were far too stir-crazy to be at home any longer, Ximena watched your daughter, and he took you out on a date that reminded you of simpler times. Showering you with gentle touches and kisses that set your heart on fire and reignited your passion.

Jayce noticed how your confidence dropped since the pregnancy. He finds you looking at yourself in the mirror and trying to love the body that grew your daughter, hands over your still-rounded stomach and tracing the stretchmarks. Changes that look so large in your eyes go unnoticed by him, and he makes sure to cherish your body as a reminder that his love for you hasn’t changed.

Every night in bed, he kisses your stomach, your hips, your thighs—peppering your body with kisses and massaging you as he worships your strength and beauty, silently thanking you for bringing your daughter into the world.

As with any relationship, there are good days and bad. Some days go so smoothly that you wonder if you both were naturally inclined to be the perfect parents. Then come the days when all you can do is argue, overcome with the stress, fears and worries of marriage and parenthood.

But you make it through because to be loved by Jayce Talis is to feel love unlike anything you have experienced before, and that is worth the hardships.

#jayce talis x reader #jayce x reader #jayce talis x you #jayce x you #jayce talis x y/n #jayce x y/n #jayce talis #jayce arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane #arcane fic #jayce talis fic #wordsbyspatial #spatialanswers

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vampireimiko · 2 months ago

Text

Mark Grayson (with a water bending partner) Headcanons !!

warnings, none :3

note, writing this made me wanna do my monthly atla rewatch 🫡

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° He constantly asks you to show him cool tricks. “Okay, but what if you made, like, a giant water fist and—oh, oh! Can you surf on it?!” He’s basically your personal hype man ^_^

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° Mark absolutely loves your powers, being able to control water and blood to your will? He watches in awe every time you demonstrate them.

He loves watching you manipulate water in combat. The way you fight is so smooth and controlled—it reminds him of the way he flies, always flowing, never rigid. "You’re literally the most badass person I know."

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° He knows how you feel about your blood-bending powers and not wanting to use those unless necessary. He’s 100% supportive about it and can understand where you’re coming from.

"I get it," he says, holding your hand. “Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should. And I know you—you’d never use it for the wrong reasons.” You were so grateful to have such a sweet boy in your life.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° That being said, if you ever do use blood-bending to protect yourself or others, Mark has a lot of feelings about it. Half impressed, half a little terrified, and fully in love. “Okay, that was both the coolest and scariest thing I’ve ever seen. Remind me never to piss you off.”

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° Sometimes, if you’re distracted or deep in thought, the water around you reacts to your emotions. Mark has 100% been caught in a surprise wave because you got surprised by something he did.

“Babe, I love you, but if you don’t warn me before you do that next time, I swear—” He says, dripping wet as you try to hold back a laugh.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° You have used your abilities to mess with him before. Whether it’s making his drink float just out of reach or sneaking in a few cold water drops down the back of his shirt, Mark always falls for it.

“You did not just—OH, IT’S COLD!” Cue you laughing and running away as he tries (and fails) to grab you.

”I am so getting you back for that!” He’d giggle.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° If he ever gets injured, you’re the first one there, using your healing powers to heal minor wounds. He’ll pretend he’s fine, but secretly? He loves the way you fuss over him.

"Be more careful next time, Mark! This is such a careless injury! I cannot believe the nerve of you—!" And the whole time he’s sitting there with a dopey smile on his face as you scold and tend to him.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° You actually tend to scold Mark more than you realize, being the eldest sibling brought out that maternal side of you, and while he might grumble about it later, he secretly cherishes every bit of your protective concern.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° When you’re feeling down, Mark takes you somewhere peaceful, maybe a quiet lake or the ocean. Just so you can be surrounded by water. He knows it makes you feel more at ease. “Take your time, I’m right here.”

Sometimes, if you’re feeling up to it, he’ll ask you to do something small with your powers like, creating tiny floating fish out of water—anything to bring a little light back into your eyes. And when you finally smile, even just a little, he feels like he won the day.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° IN CONCLUSION, Mark Grayson supremacy 😼

additional note ! im trying to get these requests out while my creative juices are flowing but school is actually pissing me off 🤒

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

#spirits works 🤍#invincible #invincible x reader #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #x reader #x fem!reader #black!reader #gn reader #male!reader

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wishfulsketching · 5 months ago

Note

wow your comics are stunning! the vanco especially is so effortlessly beautiful and well structured. Do you have a tutorial on how you make comics? Your panel work and composition is especially great, would love to know more about the process

THANK YOUUU. I am not really good with tutorials, hah. My comic process is also very much "I want to do this NOW!" and then I do it. I don't do any script, I sketch full sized thumbnails and write the "kind like this" versions of the dialogue into the thumbnails (or I won't and after I'll be like hmm I wonder what I wanted to do here).

Here's the steps of my latest little comic:

These are my thumbnails. My main goal when I start a page is to do a simple 1. Establish where we are 2. Establish who are there

I am not good with establishing shots tbh. They kill me every time. With fancomics it's easier because I don't even have to show The Last Drop because of course these idiots would be there :D

After the rough idea I do the actual sketch that I will use to help me do lineart. Just very simple and usually the characters are just their most important features. Sometimes you can barely recognize them.

Here's the final one just for comparison.

With the bigger comic I posted yesterday, I just love making movement that carries through the panels. When I know I have to add lots of dialogue to explain things, I'll make the characters do something at the same time

I just wanted to make this casual/domestic moment of bitching about life while Vander is being caring and Silco accepts it.

With composition and panel work, idk, it usually comes down to what mood I want/what I want to show (expressions usually) OR. What I don't want to show :D When you want to be lazy, you will become creative! And nobody will know!

I am very fond of breaking the panels to kinda showcase change, I guess. I do it a lot. With like the effect of the next panel entering the previous one or with speech bubbles.

With this one I had to come up with ways to transition to all the scenes within the "memory" and it was pretty fun yet also made me anxious because I also had to keep the pace up.

I draw quick and I am pretty confident with my control over my lines, so I don't really have any tips for lineart. One thing I do wanna say is that you have to learn to let go. I want to fix so much from the headcanon comic I did. I won't. It's not bad, it's just not perfect. It wouldn't be perfect even if I would fix it.

#answering stuff #talking about stuff #comic #thank youuu for the ask #not really a tutorial just me talking about my comic idk

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twinkling-moonlillie · 6 months ago

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Hawks Headcanons

A/N: I am currently obsessed with Hawks (if you couldn't tell) and writing for him is fun. I made these headcanons while procrastinating on my midterm paper a few days ago-

Warnings: Some NSFW content; MDNI. Some angst too

Starting things off with an angsty bang, Hawks has a bad habit of plucking his feathers when he is stressed out. It’s never too often and it’s never to a critical extent, but it does occur. Birds often do this as a form of coping with negative feelings, so perhaps he does this after a brutal mission.

Like many other people, I firmly believe that Keigo has a thing for shiny or interesting looking objects. Again, it’s not to an obsessive extent, but he does have a good eye for pretty trinkets. Especially ones he thinks will look good on you.

I don’t think Hawks is a good cook. There, I said it. This man barely has time for himself, do you really think he has time to devote to cooking? Do you really think that the Commission taught him to cook? Fuck no. He sticks to quick take out purely out of necessity.

They say that the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and this is absolutely true with Keigo. He would love the little lunches and dinners you make for him while he is at work! He gobbles it up like a turkey. He swears that your food is the best thing he has ever had; he literally moans when the aroma hits his nostrils.

I forget which fic I read this from (I will link if I find it), but I adore the headcanon of Hawk’s taking rut suppressant pills. I just think it makes so much sense since it aligns with his work-centric life and his lack of a wife (we aren’t talking about when you are married to him, obviously). They are probably similar to birth control pills where they stop the rut from happening 5% of the time.

Even without his rut happening, Keigo still has a huge breeding kink. Can you blame him though? He just thinks that you'll look gorgeous with his cum leaking out of your pretty pussy.

*whispers* he also has the equipment to match

He has definitely accidentally run into a window from imagining you with a cute lil baby bump.

He can get a little whiny and needy about wanting to devour your pussy. He will straight up beg you on his hands and knees. Please say yes to him.

The songs Angel with a Shotgun and Mr Blue Sky fit him so well. Fight me on this.

Also the song Hey Look Ma, I made it

I just imagine happy birb listening to Mr. Blue Sky after meeting you.

Intentional or not, his wings flap and rustle during sex.

On the topic of his wings, I don’t think they are as sensitive as we all wish they were. It’s not like he’s gonna start moaning and whimpering when random fans touch his wings (he canonical doesn’t) HOWEVER, it does feel nice when you massage and gently comb your fingertips through them. I’m thinking that it’s similar to hair?? Or maybe his wings are ticklish?? But only in the right context??

You are the only person he really trusts to take care of his wings

Keigo loves holding you in his arms and taking you on night flights. The stars always seem brighter when they are reflected in your eyes (at least, Keigo thinks so…). You even have your own set of aviator goggles to wear during these dates.

One of his favorite things is when he DOESN’T have morning patrol and can snuggle you until at least 10 in the morning. Although it may be longer because his sleep debt is so huge. There is just something so satisfying and peaceful with having you close enough to hear your heartbeat.

His biggest dream is being able to have a family with you in a quaint little house. His life, your life…they aren’t constantly in danger and he can sleep in with you, make you breakfast (it’s only a little burnt), wrap his wings around you.

Keigo is extremely possessive of, not only you, but the life you created together. He is very sensitive towards things that threaten the small slice of normalcy he has, eliciting a sense of hypervigilance and territorialism.

His mental state isn’t the best from the culmination of trauma he experiences, leading him to commit psychic cannibalism on himself. He represses all of these negative feelings in order to perform to the best of his ability and be the good lap dog for the Hero Commission.

Needs therapy.

It’s established that he has some form of echolocation through his feathers. So…hear me out…just to make sure you are safe 24/7, Keigo gives you one of his smaller feathers. I’m not going to rant because I might make this into a small oneshot/drabble later

#Keigo Takami #Keigo Takami x reader #Hawks #Hawks x reader #Hawk mha #bnha #reader insert #Hawks smut #Keigo Takami smut #Hawks x reader smut #my hero academia smut #mha smut #mha x reader #Hawks headcanons #Keigo headcanons #Keigo x reader #Hawks x you #Keigo Takami x you #fluff

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nerinefy · 1 year ago

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ A LIFE WITH HIM ; FT. some OVERBLOT BOYS .𖥔 ݁ ˖

★ synopsis: how will they be like as your partner?

★ details: you/yours | headcanon | too much fluff | 1,000+ words

✦ ┊RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECEIVING)

★ not too big on PDA, so expect that the most skin-to-skin contact you two can have outside is the occasional hand-holding. he likes it when he's the one initiating the gesture whenever you two are out and about since he still can't help but have the need to be in control even after his overblot (like leading you to places and making sure ur still by his side).

★ he doesn't admit it but he loves when you link your arm with his and nuzzle your face into his shoulder (although he will still scold you if you do it) ESPECIALLY when he's in a mood and is almost about to off the heads of some rule-breakers OR maybe when you're giving too much attention to a rando because he may not admit it but he's greedy and wants your eyes on him only (but he's a gentleman and will never speak about it, only dismissing his inappropriate thoughts.)

★ in private though he's just a snuggly little cuddle bug, even more so if he's tired or stressed or most likely both. so many responsibilities are piled up on his plate just in his second year so the only thing that keeps his shit together is your warm and loving embrace. HE'S A SMALL SPOON. NO BACKSIES, okay maybe he's a big spoon if you're the one who needs a little more loving.

GIFT-GIVING

★ i mean from the name itself ROSEHEARTS, roses are his go-to (he's corny but we love him like that), but if you have a different favorite flower then he'll get those, and if you're allergic he'll try to make those handmade ones! although a little sloppy, pretty successful for his first try. overall he likes giving the traditional gifts like bouquets, stuffed animals, and chocolates :) but if he gets to know you more it might be more personal and intimate stuff that fits your tastes, and of course, should be of use to you too.

THE SIMPLE THINGS

★ whenever you're stuck on a study session late at night he likes inviting you to take a break and brew some tea for you. he'll even share some sweets that Trey gave him. although he won't leave you alone after he finds you like that, instead he pulls out some reviewers he has and helps you work on whatever you find difficult to understand.

WORD AFFIRMATIONS

★ "Our race is nowhere near finished, so please my rose, stay strong, I know you can and want to do so. I am always by your side okay?"

✦ ┊LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECEIVING)

★ hugs, hugs, and MORE HUGS. just lots of hugs! doesn't matter if he's a big spoon or small spoon, he needs you by his side 24/7, 365. he just has to have his scent all over you u know, half-breed things. this man is just lazing around anywhere so might as well bring his favorite pillow with him. and no, he doesn't care if you have class and need to take a test worth half your grade, he needs you more! ★ of course, he doesn't have long-ass hair for nothing, go be his peasant and brush it, most preferably with your fingers if he's having a good hair day. your soft fingers massaging his scalp are quite literally going to take him to heaven, and he'll have no regrets tho so go pocket something if that happens. ★ he doesn't pick favorites when it comes to giving and receiving physical affection, he just wants his hands all over you and if the job is done then he's good.

GIFT-GIVING

★ honestly man, i don't know with him. he's raised right so of course he gives you stuff like flowers and so on. on the other hand tho he isn't the type to know what you like and will most likely just ask you what you want him to give you. maybe he'll just take you to go fetch them at the store itself if he isn't sure. but on special days like your birthday or your anniversary (assuming ya'll would last more than a week), he actually tries and it's pretty sweet and more elaborate.

THE SIMPLE THINGS

★ whenever he's forcibly on a call with his brother, which surprisingly is turning into a regular thing, if Farena asks about how he's doing, Leona likely ends up only yapping about you. i mean yeah he missed his last test and he spent his allowance for the month in a week but does Farena know about the time you were mumbling Leona's name in your sleep? he will deny it if he's called out for doing so. NO, HE DID NOT PERIOD. *hangs up*

WORD AFFIRMATIONS

★ "Whatever you're thinking of, don't. It's stupid. As much as I don't like admitting this, you're strong, and even more than most beastmen if you set your mind to your goals."

✦ ┊AZUL ASHENGROTTO

PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECEIVING)

★ man's busy all the time so it's hard to get your hands on him. even if he's not busy, he will sprint for his life just to get away from you. not that he dislikes your affection, the concept is just a little foreign to him. give him time to adjust, then you'll find out how soft his tentacles are! ★ when he's actually busy and working on stuff in his office (when the time comes and he's comfortable) he likes it when you flop yourself on his lap and nuzzle into his chest. he feels guilty that he can't give full focus to you since his schedule truly is packed but you inviting yourself into his office at late hours of the day just to snuggle comforts and assures him in some way. he'll definitely find more time for you, he's trying his best lol! ★ overall he isn't one to initiate the touching even if he's fully vulnerable for you. idk too ask him about it. he's just happy you like him enough that you cling unto him. but if you ask him he may favor hand-holding the most, it may be the least contact but feeling your hand on his is enough for him.

GIFT-GIVING

★ HE KNOWS EVERYTHING. i'm not even kidding, even when it's no special day he'd likely buy stuff just because it reminded him of you or when you coincidentally need it which is pretty cute but can be a little creepy.

THE SIMPLE THINGS

★ i saw a fic back then that said he gives you some coupons and by some i mean a TON in hopes that you visit the Lounge and that is absolutely true. though he forgets you two are together and he can ask you nicely to come over but who can say no to 30% off all menu items?

WORD AFFIRMATIONS

★ "My, how could I ever deny what that cute head of yours and those strong arms of yours can do! You are a valuable asset to me...what kind of asset? Well...it's up to you to decide."

✦ ┊JAMIL VIPER

PHYSICAL AFFECTION (GIVING & RECIEVING)

★ he's also busy, honestly might be one of the, or if not the busiest of all of these guys. when you two have time to be together tho, even if he's knocked out and drained, he'll never show it. but i can say that's only during the early stages of your relationship with him and depending on how you two met. he likes to present himself in his best state and he really can't do so with his schedule so eventually he just melts and the next thing you know he's hugging you from the back any chance he gets and you feel his heartbeat turn slower by the minute. ★ for those moments that he sees you out and about though he likes patting your cute lil head, no matter what your height is. though he is trying to be a little adventurous with you so he leans in to caress your hair gently and suddenly you're met with a quick smooch. (only when there's no one else in sight so yeah adventurous my ass) ★ like leona, he loves it when you play with his hair, and he does not like to admit it. just remember to keep it neat and use a brush while you're at it, plus a facial and maybe a massage because i know those muscles are TIGHT.

GIFT-GIVING

★ his gifts reek of HANDMADE. idk he has those vibes. handmade flowers, or some origami of cute animals, but he likes giving you handwritten letters the most. it can be hard to communicate his real feelings to you so writing is a way for him to freely and easily express those feelings.

THE SIMPLE THINGS

★ whenever he cooks for Kalim or just whenever he cooks, he suddenly has some leftovers that he decided he'd pack up for you. can't bring himself up to say that excuse so he just gives it to you and walks away.

WORD AFFIRMATIONS

★ "Whining is useless. Do the things you're good at, stop worrying about the things you can't. Oh, I'm sorry...did that come off too harsh?"

★ author's note: congratulate me for coming back. BASK IN MY GLORIOUS PRESCENCE. (i missed u guys too ig)

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bambieyedoll · 27 days ago

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⋆·˚ ༘ * EDWARD CULLEN HEADCANONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ

𐙚 edward and you taking care of your baby

edward knew something was different the second you walked into the cafeteria. your scent hit him like a shockwave—his throat burned, his instincts screamed at him to run or devour, but what shook him more was the unfamiliar pull in his chest.

bloodsinger. mate.

he wasn’t prepared for this. he wasn’t meant for this. he had spent decades convincing himself that he was beyond human connection, beyond attachment. and then you walked in, your scent curling around him like an unshakable chain, and he was doomed.

he avoided you at first. not because he didn’t want you—because he wanted you too much.

but avoidance only lasted so long.

you noticed him immediately. of course, you did. he was edward cullen—beautiful, unreadable, too pale, too perfect. but there was something else—something in the way his golden eyes lingered on you just a second too long before flickering away.

when you were paired together for a class project, you saw it up close—how his jaw tensed, how he barely breathed around you. his hands curled into fists like he was resisting something unseen.

“did i… do something to make you uncomfortable?” you finally asked, hesitant.

his lips parted. his brows furrowed, like he was fighting some internal battle. then, too quiet, like he didn’t mean to say it out loud—“you have no idea.”

despite his initial resistance, edward couldn’t help but observe you. he memorized the way you twirled your pen when thinking, how you bit your lip when concentrating, how you laughed—oh, your laughter was a siren’s call, warm and human in a way that made his frozen chest ache.

he found himself drawn to you. his self-control strained every time you got too close, every time you said his name with that curious lilt.

you noticed the little things—how he was always near but never too close, how his voice was velvet-soft when he spoke to you, how he looked at you like he was terrified of you and entranced all at once.

the baby was a part of your life from the beginning. when your extended family left behind a ten-month-old baby girl with no one else to care for her, you stepped up without hesitation. you never hid it. when you mentioned her in passing, your voice would soften, your expression would change.

“she’s my little girl. not by blood, but she’s all i have left.”

she wasn’t yours, but she was yours in every way that mattered.

edward felt the weight behind your words. he understood loss, understood loneliness. and though he was still hesitant—still fighting the impossible war between his nature and his heart—he found himself wanting to understand more.

one day, after weeks of stolen glances and half-finished conversations, you caught him staring.

“you’re always looking at me like you want to say something but won’t.”

edward hesitated. the war within him raged louder than ever. but then you gave him a small, tired smile—one that made something break in him.

“you can talk to me, you know.”

and god, he wanted to.

that day, for the first time, he did. you sat together outside the school, the clouds stretching endless above you, and he let himself speak—carefully, hesitantly, but honestly.

“i’m… not what you think i am.”

you tilted your head, studying him. “then tell me what you are.”

he let out a slow breath, shaking his head. “i can’t.”

“then i’ll wait.”

that was the moment edward realized there was no running from this. no escaping the inevitable. you were already in his orbit, pulling him closer with every breath, every word.

balancing school and a baby was hard, and today was one of those days where nothing went right—your babysitter canceled last minute, and there was no one else to watch her. so, with a deep breath and a whispered, “well, this is gonna be a disaster,” you packed up your little girl and took her with you to school.

edward noticed immediately. of course, he did. your scent was already intoxicating, but now it was mixed with something softer, like baby powder and lavender lotion. it made his already-fragile restraint weaker.

he sees you struggling to juggle the diaper bag, the car seat, and your books, and before he can think better of it, he’s standing in front of you.

“here, let me.” his hands brush yours as he takes the bag from you, and despite everything in him screaming that he should keep his distance, he can’t.

you blink in surprise. edward cullen—cold, distant, unreadable—standing in front of you, holding out his hands for a diaper bag?

“you don’t have to—”

“i want to.”

that moment is the beginning of something new.

when you walk into class, baby in tow, there’s a mix of reactions. curious glances, whispered gossip—but the baby is completely unbothered, clutching onto your shirt with wide, sleepy eyes.

edward wants to keep his distance, but every time he sees you with the baby, something in his cold, dead heart melts.

he watches the way you hold her, the way your voice softens when you whisper to her. he watches the way she clings to you, her tiny fingers grasping onto your shirt like you’re her whole world.

and the most terrifying part?

he wants to be a part of that world.

the cullens know what’s going on. of course they know. but the situation is completely different from what they were expecting when edward first mentioned he had found his bloodsinger.

alice gets a vision. she freezes mid-step, her mouth dropping open.

“oh. my. god.”

“what now?” rosalie groans.

“the baby.”

silence.

carlisle tilts his head. “what baby?”

alice whips around to face edward, her golden eyes wide with something between shock and delight. “you left out a very important detail, edward!”

“it’s not her baby,” edward mutters, exasperated, already anticipating their reactions. “she’s just raising her. she’s all the baby has left.”

but the moment the words leave his mouth, he realizes that does not make this better.

esme gasps.

“she’s raising a child? alone?” esme’s entire demeanor changes. if she was intrigued before, she is devoted now. “oh, that poor girl. she must be exhausted. we have to help her.”

carlisle smiles, amused but understanding. “esme—”

“no, carlisle! she’s taking care of a baby while in high school—”

“she’s incredible,” edward mutters without thinking.

and oh, that does not go unnoticed.

every single cullen turns to look at him.

“oh, he’s so gone,” emmett laughs, nudging jasper. “look at him.”

“i know,” jasper mutters, smirking. “i can feel it.”*

“edward,” esme says gently, a knowing smile on her lips, “when do we get to meet her?

and edward knew he had no choice in the matter.

you don’t expect to be invited to the cullens’ house, but one afternoon, edward tells you, awkwardly and almost shyly, “my family wants to meet you.”

you blink. “your family?”

“yes.” he hesitates. “they’re… eager.”

eager is an understatement.

the moment you step into the cullens’ pristine, modern home, you’re met with the warmest, most welcoming energy you’ve ever experienced.

esme immediately pulls you into a soft, motherly embrace. “oh, sweetheart. it’s so nice to finally meet you. i’m esme, edward’s mom.” her tender eyes soften when you give her a shy smile and greet her back. “you must be exhausted, honey. please, sit— you’re more than welcome here.”

carlisle shakes your hand, his touch cool but his smile warm. “it’s wonderful to finally meet you. i hear a lot about you.”

alice is practically vibrating with excitement. “you are so much prettier in person. i have so many outfits planned for you and— and oh my god, where’s the baby?”

you laugh, a little overwhelmed but charmed. “she’s sleeping in the car—i just didn’t want to bring her in right away in case—”

“nope!” alice declares, grabbing your wrist. “don’t worry, we’d love to see her.”

when you bring her inside, esme is done. finished. completely lost. she cradles the baby in her arms with the softest expression you’ve ever seen.

“oh, sweet angel,” she coos, “you are precious.”

rosalie, who had been quiet up until now, visibly melts. she reaches out, carefully brushing a finger against the baby’s tiny hand.

“she’s beautiful,” rosalie murmurs, and for the first time, you see something unguarded in her.

emmett, of course, is an immediate menace. “alright, kid, first lesson—fist bumps.”

jasper watches from the side, amusement in his golden eyes as he absorbs the waves of warmth and affection radiating from the family.

“well,” he says quietly to edward, “i think it’s safe to say she’s one of us now.”

edward watches all of this from the sidelines, something tight and aching in his chest.

he had feared this—bringing you into his world, entangling you with his unnatural existence. but here you are, standing in his home, your baby in esme’s arms, your laughter mixing with alice’s excited rambling.

and it fits.

he realizes, in that moment, that his family has already claimed you as one of their own.

and more than that… you belong with him.

it’s a silent agreement. suddenly, the cullens become part of your life. they look after you from afar, keeping you and the baby safe. whenever you’re in trouble or just exhausted, somehow they’re always there.

the day you brought your baby to school, esme finds out within the hour. somehow. maybe alice told her. maybe esme just knows. either way, by the time lunch rolls around, esme is already outside the school in her sleek car, stepping out with the softest smile.

“oh, sweetheart, you should have called me. i would’ve loved to help.”

she insists on taking care of the baby while you finish the school day, cooing over the little one like a true mom. you see the way she cradles her, the way her face lights up, and it makes your heart ache a little.

edward is resistant at first. not because he dislikes the baby—no, quite the opposite. he already feels too drawn to you, and now there’s this tiny, fragile thing that smells like you, looks at him with big, innocent eyes, and reaches for his hand without fear. it’s dangerous.

but then, one evening at the cullen house, the baby clumsily grabs onto his sweater, pulling herself up to stand. she giggles at him—an open, toothy, baby giggle—and that’s it. he’s gone.

he starts reading about baby care. edward cullen. reading baby books. he won’t admit it, but you catch him once, flipping through the complete guide to infant development with a deeply furrowed brow.

the baby loves edward. she babbles nonsense at him, pats his face with sticky hands, and nestles into his chest when she’s sleepy. the first time she falls asleep in his arms, he doesn’t move for hours.

alice loses her mind. the second she realizes she has an excuse to buy baby clothes, it’s over. every other day, she’s showing up with tiny frilly dresses, matching shoes, and unnecessarily fancy outfits.

“she needs variety, y/n! she can’t wear the same onesie twice!”

carlisle gets in on it too. providing you with all the medical attention in nutrition and child development, and suddenly, the baby has a whole team of supernatural guardians looking after her.

but sometimes, things get hard for you too.

one night, you’re exhausted. completely drained. the baby won’t sleep, you have schoolwork piling up, and you just… break.

edward finds you sitting on your front porch, your head in your hands, silent tears slipping down your cheeks.

he doesn’t think. doesn’t hesitate. he just moves.

“y/n?” his voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it.

you look up, eyes red-rimmed and tired, and he feels something in him shatter. the way you try to hide your tears as your hands move to wipe your face.

“you don’t have to do this alone,” he murmurs.

and then—without thinking—you lean against him. and he doesn’t pull away.

he lets you rest against his shoulder, lets you take a deep breath. he doesn’t say anything—just lets you exist in the quiet.

after that first day of bringing the baby to school, things change. you hadn’t expected the cullens to become so invested, but suddenly, you have an entire immortal family practically fighting over who gets to hold her next.

esme is the self-declared grandmother, doting and affectionate. she’s always ready with warm blankets, soft lullabies, and a knowing smile that makes you feel safe in a way you haven’t in a long time.

one night, you’re sitting in the cullens’ living room, rocking the baby in your arms, her tiny hand gripping onto your shirt as she drifts to sleep. and edward is watching you.

you look up, meeting his gaze, and his expression is so unreadable—so intense that it makes your breath hitch.

“what?” you whisper.

he shakes his head, looking away too quickly. “nothing.”

it’s not nothing. it’s everything.

he fights it. he tries to, anyway. but the sight of you holding the baby, the sound of your laughter as she tugs on his hair, the way she reaches for him specifically when she’s sleepy—he’s lost. completely and utterly lost.

after that, he’s always near. he doesn’t even pretend to resist anymore. if you’re holding her, he’s beside you. if she’s playing, he’s watching. if she so much as whimpers in her sleep, he’s at her side before you can even blink

one day, you catch him humming to her. it’s soft, quiet, something old and gentle. you don’t say anything—you just listen, letting yourself fall just a little more in love with him.

it happens so naturally that neither of you realize it at first.

you’re in edward’s room, sitting cross-legged on his couch while the baby dozes on a blanket beside you. she’s gotten so comfortable in the cullen house that she falls asleep here easily, soothed by esme’s gentle hands and the soft classical music edward plays when the house is quiet.

edward sits nearby, a book resting forgotten in his lap. he isn’t reading—he’s watching you. he does that often now, with no shame or hesitation. he watches the way your fingers absentmindedly stroke the baby’s tiny hand, the way your expression softens whenever you glance at her. the way you belong here, in his world, without even trying.

you’re exhausted, he can tell. it’s in the slope of your shoulders, the way you fight back a yawn. it’s late, and he knows you’ve been up since before dawn.

he shifts, then says the words without thinking—so instinctive, so natural, that he doesn’t even register them until they’re already hanging in the air between you.

“you should sleep. i’ll watch over our girl for a while.”

silence.

the book nearly slips from his hands.

your head lifts. your eyes meet his.

our girl.

the weight of it settles between you, warm and unshakable.

edward freezes, his entire body going still. he doesn’t look away, though—he can’t. a flicker of panic sparks in his golden eyes, as if he’s just revealed something he hadn’t meant to. but it’s too late. it’s out there now, irreversible and undeniable.

your lips part, but no words come. you’re stunned. not because the idea repels you—but because you hadn’t expected this—not yet, not from him. edward choosing this, choosing you.

choosing her.

it’s already happening.

finally, he speaks again, voice quieter this time.

“i meant—” he hesitates, then sighs. “no. i meant exactly what i said.”

your heart clenches.

he shifts forward slightly, his gaze locked on yours. “she’s yours, but she’s also… she’s ours. i already love her, y/n. i can’t help it. and i—” he swallows, the next words nearly knocking the breath from him. “i love you so bad.”

it’s the first time he’s said it.

your throat tightens. “edward…”

he reaches out, fingertips brushing yours. “you don’t have to say anything. i just—i need you to know. both of you. you’ll never be alone again. you have me.”

edward tilts his head, desperately studying your face carefully, as if trying to gauge your reaction. “is that… alright?” he asks, uncertain.

you let out a shaky breath, a smile tugging at your lips. you do say something, then. you whisper his name, lean into his touch as the baby stirs softly between you, safe and warm in a house full of love.

edward sighs in delight. he’s spent over a century believing he was meant to be alone, that love and warmth and family weren’t meant for him.

but now?

now he has you. and a tiny, frilly-dress-wearing, sticky-handed little girl who trusts him completely.

maybe this eternity won’t be so lonely after all.

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hechose · 5 months ago

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how do you need to be touched?

gently.

you need to be held as though you're going to break. you need someone to trace your scars like cracks in a wall, crumbling. their touch is almost painful; you've been without it for too long, without someone to hold you. but, you cannot bring yourself to pull away.

TAGGED BY: @operahouses TAGGING: literally anyone that sees this & hasn't done it <33

#oh... oH THE WAY THIS MADE ME SOB YES UGHH #also this compared with the one i did a while ago about 'how do you need to be loved' wOMP IM FINE SO FINE--#✞ — i am the one thing in life i can control. // headcanons.#i just.. ugh the way i could ramble about how armand for so long has only known--#and only known how to respond to something entirely different #that he truly believes it is what he needs and what works for him #that just... the Moment any of his loves turn things gentle it breaks his brain and processing it is bewildering and just--#mmm so many thoughts goodbye im cryin

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lurochar · 9 months ago

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First Rut, With You

A short drabble based on the Rut Stuff headcanons

Warnings: None

-----------------------------------------

This wouldn’t do.

You hummed cheerfully, completely unaware of the darkening eyes watching you from the shadows.

Oh, he couldn’t have this.

He could feel his eyes begin to blacken and the itch in his antlers somehow felt even worse than it did at the peak of his previous ruts.

You could, and should, be held responsible for bringing about such an irritating change in him. He never had to deal with these absurd urges before.

Rutting season had been nothing more than just a minor inconvenience, a month where he felt a little less patience and more aggression than he usually would – an easy fix, a little extra slaughter always soothed his ruffled fur.

Well, until you showed up in his (after)life and somehow managed to make yourself quite charming to someone like himself.

He had never imagined finding a partner would change the physical aspect of his rut month so much, it even seemed to awaken some sort of deep instinctual part of him that Alastor didn’t realize he possessed.

You needed to make it up to him for making him feel this way.

~00~

“My little Doe~”

You almost screeched, hearing the static and the filtered voice only after you felt a touch on your hand come from below and you stumbled, still not used to Alastor’s mastery of shadows that he liked to regularly abuse to scare the living shit out of you.

“Hmm, how are you this hellish afternoon?” Alastor asked in his usual chipper tone, eyes quickly drawn to what was in your hand and his grin tensed and twitched on one side. “What is that monstrosity?”

He was well aware demons were stopping and staring, whispering to each other, probably in shock that the Radio Demon was having a casual and cordial conversation with a Sinner who wasn’t a fellow Overlord.

Let them talk for a few minutes – he’ll be taking their worthless eyeballs for daring to gawk at you in a few moments anyways.

You patted your chest a few times, feeling a little heavy as you barely managed to swallow down your mouthful before you choked on it. “I’m still not used to that. How am I still not used to that?” You said under your breath and Alastor’s smile twitched once more, his mind jumbled and completely out of control.

His patience wasn’t exactly all there, (maybe you didn’t know that), you shouldn’t ignore him like that, your attention should be on him, so answer his question, whywereyoueatingthat, HECOULDPROVIDEYOUWITHBETTER–

“What is that?” Alastor repeated with gritted fangs, not liking that he did have to repeat himself to begin with and you snapped out of your shadow-induced shock, glancing at the thing-that-shouldn’t-even-be-called-food in your hand.

“It’s just a dough–” You started, reeling back in surprise when Alastor knocked your treat out of your hand like a naughty cat knocking things off a table and you’re just baffled at the sheer child-like pettiness of it, “–nut…” You finish, simply staring at your fallen doughnut on the ground.

Huh.

“I admit I have no fondness for sweets,” Alastor doesn’t like you looking at that damn doughnut with those pretty doe eyes of yours, especially with that disappointment, “but if you are craving a sweet treat, I am capable of making beignets at the very least.”

It’s the only dessert recipe of his mother’s that he can replicate, he was never one for baking.

“Alastor,” you quickly forget about the doughnut when you look back at Alastor, “are you… feeling okay?” You asked in concern, quickly noting he was not his normal self.

His antlers were a little larger than normal, he looked all around irritated, his eyes were flickering between black and red, and his pupils were spinning as if they couldn’t settle between their normal shape or the radio dials he was known for.

“No, that’s not enough,” Alastor didn’t answer your question, “beyond sweets, for every meal, you need to come to me, my Doe. I’ll skin anyone alive who think they can feed– care for you better than I can.”

“I…” Something was off with Alastor, but you could directly ask him when you weren’t in public and–was that screaming?

Ah.

Alastor’s shadow and other little minions were making mincemeat out of the passersby and you guessed they must have riled Alastor up by staring just a little too long. Well, if you wanted to be in the Radio Demon’s life, it was just a fact you had to get used to.

You jumped when you felt something large being draped over you and you felt warm and fuzzy when you could smell Alastor’s scent enveloping you. “What are you doing?” You flushed, seeing that Alastor had taken off his overcoat and was currently wrapping you up in it, looking a little less irritated at the sight of you in it.

“I can still smell that doughnut and its maker on you.” Alastor snarled at the very thought before reaching down to intertwine his fingers within yours and he almost barked out a laugh at how utterly red your face was getting at the gesture. How adorable, you matched his coat.

“W-what are you doing!?” You were completely confused at this point because Alastor never touched you affectionately out in public – both for his image and for your safety. This was odd, bizarre, but you didn’t hate it, you were just flustered at the abruptness of this strange new thing.

“Hmm, I suppose I should have shared something about myself with you earlier,” Alastor tightened his hand around yours, strolling along with you slowly so you could keep up with your shorter frame, “When we are away from any prying eyes and ears, I will tell you what this is. But first, my little Doe, let us enjoy a nice afternoon walk, shall we?”

“O-okay.” You simply nodded, spotting a streaking black shape speeding towards you and Alastor and Alastor’s shadow emerged from the ground. You looked curiously at it when it held out its hands to Alastor in an eager manner, but slowly stepped back once you got a glimpse of what it actually was holding.

“Good job.” Alastor nodded with approval and the shadow seemed to look at you restlessly before Alastor held out to you what he ordered his shadow to retrieve – those worthless Sinners’ eyeballs. “A gift for you, dearest. And many in your favourite colour!”

Ah… ha.

“Thank you, Alastor.”

Yep, better get used to it.

#alastor x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel

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