#I like the idea of him getting all bashful and embarrassed if someone tries to peel the suit off or look underneath it

[megacross-ground-zero-rated-r]

Warning for suggestive text.

Glitchtrap in his more tangible yellow form, if someone slips their fingers under his costume and rolls it back, underneath he's still green and translucent. He's very reluctant to let anyone see under his fabric skin... Half because he doesn't really remember what he looks like and is afraid of not liking what he sees. This is despite knowing William's reputation as a silver fox.

His outer skin is just randomly wet or oily in certain spots, especially around his belly, it's like his body instinctively understands it was human once so it should still be secreting stuff but it doesn't quite remember the when or where or why so it just. Leaks, sometimes.

Grabbing a handful of him covered by the yellow suit, in the places where humans usually squish, feels like one of those heavy sand-filled plushies or beanbag chairs with random, spindly metal parts underneath. Their placement makes no rhyme or reason to a human skeleton aside from the ribcage and skull, maybe the neck vertebrae.

He smells of sour sweat and moldly pizza cheese with a hint of... Sawdust? Chalk? Old pennies? Springtrap I feel like he's shriveled up to the point he doesn't really smell as much unless you're right next to him but Yellow Suit Glitchtrap gives the vibe that he just reeks of BO.

[yanderenightmare]

can you expand on your idea of bully ! Tsukishima from haikyuu??? please, it sounded delicious uwu

Tsukishima Kei

♡ TW: NSFW, dubcon, exhibitionism, "fingering in public"

♡ fem reader

Dinkerbell

“Tch- look at you sitting here like a bookworm~” 

His words snuck up on you from behind, making you suck in a gasp where you sat, concentrating in the quiet library with a pen in your notes and your nose in a textbook – shrinking in your seat under the mean glare of the librarian who told you to hush.

“Who’re you tryna fool, huh?” Tsukishima crudely continued in spite of it, gripping the back of your chair while leaning over – his lips brushing the shell of your ear while he whispered. “Everyone knows you’re just a pretty pair of tits on legs- tch, no one expects there to be any actual brains in here.”

You pursed your lips with furrowed brows and rose from your chair, casting a sour look up at him through the slim glasses he looked down at you through – his face soft but with a sly smirk curling his lips.

You didn’t have time to humor him, you thought while gathering your books into your bag – this assignment wouldn’t figure itself out, no matter how hard you wished it would.

“Aw, come on~ you know I'm just joking~” He stopped you – snatching the textbook out from your flimsy grip and lifting it higher than you could reach.

“It's not very funny, Kei.” You sulked. Halfheartedly grabbing after your book, knowing you wouldn’t reach it either way.

“It’s funny to me.” He replied with a cock of his chin. “Besides, it’s not really my fault you make yourself such an easy target.” Smirk spreading while he glibbed, lazily lowering the book again with eyes giving you a patronizing leer. “You need my help, right?”

You bit your lip, shifting between looking up into his knowing eyes and the heavy calculus book weighed in his palm – then the assignment on the desk. Thinking about how long you’d sat there, pulling on your hair and chewing your pen, stuck on the same equation. 

You gave a defeated huff, sitting back down in surrender – and he offered a soft chuckle, pulling up a chair right beside you, opening the book to the right chapter. 

Your pout never dropped as he started tutoring – staring at the formulas he pointed to with worried eyes, twiddling your pen unsurely with a growing storm of hopeless confusion festering in your head.

You felt close to crying when his arm went from resting on the back of your chair to slipping between you, hand brushing your thigh – traveling beneath your skirt slowly, soon with fingers stroking the warm fabric of your panties.

“Kei…” You whined lowly. “Not here…” Begging with bashful eyes fluttering shyly around the library, terrified that anyone would see.

“You seem distracted… Maybe you want me to tutor you in something else, hm?” He ignored you, keeping his hand tucked between your thighs even as you tried closing them – running his long fingers up and down, teasing your slit through the thin cotton, smiling once feeling you get damp. Despite acting all cute and demure, you’re always so easy.

“We’re in the library, Kei...” You protested, keeping your voice hushed – cheeks heating as your breath flared, trying to keep your hips still.

“Yeah? What better place for you to learn something new?” He said playfully, not bothering with lowering his voice like you as his finger hooked around the trail of your panty and pulled it to the side. “You just need to stay quiet. Shouldn't be hard for someone who never has anything worthwhile to say anyway.”

“Tsukki-” You nagged with an insisting whine, rubbing your knees together to keep him away. Embarrassed and nervous and now hot and bothered – you choked on your heart, praying no one else in the quiet library had taken notice of the two of you.

“Spread wider.” He ordered, unbothered by your concerns – making you yelp with a strict pinch to the inside of your thigh when you didn’t obey. He clicked his tongue. “I told you to keep quiet- I'm not going to detention all because your dumb mouth couldn’t figure out how to shut up.”

You only whimpered with another breath, giving in to his wishes – sinking your teeth into your lip while opening your legs with a quickening heartbeat.

“There you go- good dummy~” He praised, now with a finger diving through your wet slit, up between your swelling pussylips to rub against your perky clitty. 

You moaned under your breath, feeling lightheaded and fuzzy and warm. Withholding further sighs and lusty sounds by biting into your lip, making them come out as petty whimpers instead. Thighs quaking where you fought to keep them open despite the burn in your loins telling you to clamp them shut tight to ride the pleasure that soon washed through you.

“You know… it's okay to be stupid as long as you’re useful in other ways.” He teased – his eyes set on your expression, watching it curl in bliss as you soaked his fingers with slick. Offering a curt chuckle. “And I can think of plenty ways I want to use you.”

He wiped his fingers on your panties and pulled them back in place, patting your cunt in kudos before getting up. 

You were left softly blinking, catching your damp breaths while slowly coming to – enough to see him packing up.

“What are you doing?” You asked in a rush. The half-finished assignment spread on the desk sobering you up – enough to make you pull your thighs back together and send the worry back into your hopeless eyes.

“I gotta spell everything out for you, don’t I?” He sighed, acting exasperated before a grin crept up his face like before. 

He bent down until his face was but a hairs length from yours, one big hand laid flat on the textbook on the desk, balancing him as he curled a finger under your chin. 

“You and I take this assignment back to my place- I finish it for you, and then…” He paused, drumming his fingers on the pages while giving his teeth a quick lick. “I finish you right after.”

You bit your lip in turn, watching him pull his bag up on his shoulder while lifting the book for you to take.

“Sound good?” He asked then, waiting for you with a raised brow.

Smiling once you took the book in both hands with a cute nod to your head. 

“Then hurry it up, Dinkerbell.”

Full altered fic available here:

[njdevilsdarling]

the ‘costume thing’ | jack hughes x reader

*pairing: jack hughes x gn!reader

*summary: a simple misunderstanding between you and jack turns into a full-blown argument

*word count: 896

*tags: angst, miscommunication, happy ending

*a/n: goodness gracious, this was supposed to be fluff but it grew into this angsty monster. i hope you enjoy !

happy halloween !!

you’ve been trying to convince jack since september to wear matching costumes this year. jack didn’t agree to do it last halloween so maybe this time, it’d be different, but nope. he still shot down every suggestion. it’s starting to get on your nerves. you’d never force him to do it but it’s hard not to feel jealous seeing all of your friends dressing up with their partners.

and you thought you’d had some pretty good ideas, too. your best friend straight up cackled over facetime when you told them your favorite (the angel and devil thing is so overdone but jack has always looked good in white).

now, it’s two weeks before the 31st and he still hasn’t said anything. he doesn’t even pay attention anymore and you suspect that he isn’t listening whenever you bring it up. it fucking sucks.

at first, it was just annoying- something that was just aggravating enough to get under your skin- but now, it’s starting to hurt.

it’s beyond just a costume. it’s about him ignoring you and not even taking your opinion into consideration.

fine. if he wants to play that way, so can you.

“c’mon, just talk to me.”

you cross your arms and stare at him, shaking your head. oh, now he wants to talk, got it.

“did i like, forget to do something or make you upset?” jack says, sounding genuinely concerned. it’s nice to know he cares but you’ve been paying attention to how long it would take for him to approach you. three days is shitty.

you stand there in silence while he fidgets awkwardly, clearly frustrated by your lack of a response.

“can you please say something?”

you sigh, rolling your eyes. the low simmer of irritation and hurt that’s been under your skin finally boils over and you can’t stop yourself from lashing out at him. “it doesn’t feel very good to be ignored, does it?”

immediate regret sets in as you watch the look in his eyes shift rapidly from sadness to sharply annoyed. “is this still about that costume thing?”

“are you serious?” you scoff, full on glaring at him, “you think that’s why i’m upset?”

“yeah, i guess. i don’t know.”

“i’m upset because you’re not listening to me. every time i try to talk to you, you just brush me off, and that’s if you even care enough to respond,” you snap at him. you feel your eyes begin to burn and it only serves to make you more upset. you’d never considered yourself someone who tries to hide your emotions but fuck, crying over this in front of him is embarrassing. “it’s like you don’t even want to hear what i have to say. and i feel ignored.”

it’s quiet but the silence between the two of you is thunderous. jack opens and closes his mouth, struggling to find what to say. you sniffle, using the back of your hand to dry your eyes. it isn’t fair for you to spill everything you’ve been feeling lately out to him and to him to stay still and speechless. it feels like hours before he finally says anything.

“i’m sorry,” jack mumbles, and it’s so genuine that it’s almost like you have to look up at him. “i should have listened to you.”

you laugh wetly, wrapping your arms around your body. “yeah, you should have. you never even told me why you didn’t want to like, dress up with me.”

“i don’t know why.” he shrugs. at least he looks bashful. “that’s a shitty answer, isn’t it?”

he’s right. it’s a horrible answer but he says it in such a way that makes you giggle, hiding it behind your hand. hearing you laugh causes him to smile.

“i didn’t know you felt like that. i wish i would’ve, though.” jack bites his lip, his hands in his pockets. it sucks, seeing him so dejected, but part of you is glad that he’s taking this so seriously. it’s such a contrast from before; he’s actually, really, listening to you now and it’s damn satisfying. “i don’t like seeing you upset.”

you take a deep breath, nodding slowly. he’s trying. one conversation isn’t going to make everything okay but it’s a start.

“just… i need you to talk to me. fighting like this is stupid. i don’t wanna spend most of our time together arguing,” you say quietly, the last of your tears drying on your face.

jack pulls you into a crushing hug and for a moment, you stand still, before hugging him back just as tightly.

“me too.”

he’s got such a way with words.

jack flicks his headband with a frown and you watch the little halo attached to it wobble.

“quit messing with it,” you hiss, elbowing his arm when he goes to hit it again, “you’re going to break it.”

he pouts, rolling his shoulders back. maybe the wings were a little too much, but he just looks so cute in them. “and why am i the angel again?”

“because,” you say simply, flashing him a grin, “you’re always a devil. it’s my turn now.”

you quickly pull your phone out, using the camera to check if your horns are still on straight. in the top left corner, jack readjusts the wings you ‘forced’ him to wear.

you can’t fucking wait for tonight.

[discowingneckline]

How do you think Dick reacts to be mistaken for Damian’s father? How would Damian react if Dick didn’t correct someone making the mistake?

Okay, so before I get into that, I want to talk about how I personally see the dynamics between Damian with Bruce, Talia, and Dick. I don't accept the idea that Talia al Ghul is a bad parent or that the al Ghuls are super abusive in the way comics has portrayed them from Morrison's run and after. I think it's racist, and I think it's overall shitty writing. Damian Wayne had said he is proud of both Talia and Bruce, don't ask me where that happened. It's a miracle I even remember it happened. There's also the one thing of Dick and Damian that my pookie @confusedhummingbird reblogged one of my things with, and I'll just steal that delightful panel for your convenience.

Anyway, so basically what I'm saying is that I don't particularly enjoy when Dick is hailed as a great parent compared to Bruce and Talia. Bruce and Talia definitely have some horrible fuck-ups (with Talia's being very racist in nature, and I swear to gods if someone fucking tries arguing her character wasn't treated in a racist manner, you're getting blocked so fucking fast). Like Bruce definitely did some fucked up shit too, but in general, I don't necessarily think he does a completely shit job at being a dad. In fact, when Batman is written in a halfway decent way, he is a pretty good dad in my opinion.

While Dick definitely did a good job with Damian, I think it would be pretty out of character for Dick to just discount Bruce and Talia's role as parents for Damian unless it was something pretty big and bad for Damian, in which case Bruce and Talia are probably being written fucking weirdly.

So onto your actual question! I think Dick would be...not bashful, but somewhere in there. I also think he'd just take it in stride and not correct them unless Damian wanted him to. He definitely doesn't want to overstep those kinds of boundaries with Damian if he has them. I also think depending on where they are at/what they are doing definitely contributes to how he'd react. Like when they were out as Batman and Robin, definitely was fine with the dad-son thing there. Out as Nightwing and Robin, doesn't bother to correct them. I don't think they'd get mistaken for being father-son in Gotham or in Blüdhaven, and I don't think any hero would mistake them for being father-son unless they were like new, new. But yeah, just depends.

I don't think Damian would really correct someone now. When Bruce died, in the period he was really learning from Stephanie, Dick, and Alfred, he probably would've corrected them. I don't think so now. I think family dynamics are a lot more fluid than people like to claim they are. Personally, I have a lot of people I see in parental roles, and one of them (which I don't see anymore because they are racist) were in a similar age range that Dick and Damian are. I didn't get mad or correct people when they thought I was their kid. I was either 1) embarrassed, 2) didn't care to make the effort to correct them, and 3) happy to be seen as such close family to them. That, and all the changes going on in his life at that time, and Dick's pretty much unwavering support for Damian leads me to believe that Damian wouldn't mind being seen as Dick's kid. I think he understands that Dick took on a parental role for him, and he can understand that he still has his biological parents to rely on.

SO! Basically, Dick doesn't correct people because I don't think a lot of people in their life would get it confused, and Damian doesn't mind because Dick is a parental figure in his life, and it isn't some sort of replacement figure for his biological parents.

[estro-gem]

Jax x Ragatha: Touch

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis

Author's note: Hey guys! It's bunnydoll time! I hope you have the patience to work your way through this one. I wonder if there are any of you who can remotely relate to the way I wrote Jax to be in terms of his aversion to touch.

Oh well, it's just a story about some fictional characters who aren't even mine. Credit goes to Gooseworx, for creating such fun characters for us to play with.

Hope you enjoy this one! This story was suppose to go into a completely different direction, but that idea can always be explored in the future - when I have the guts to put it on paper.

I'm sure that you don't need the context from my previous work to understand/enjoy this one.

Warnings: None... I think.

SUMMARY:

Jax is suffering from the frustrating effects of touch-starvation, despite his touch-aversion rendering him from doing anything about it. After meeting up with his fellow circus-members, a good laugh and a brief on their new adventure, Jax is given the chance to confide in Ragatha.

TOUCH

It was going to be one of those dreaded days.

Jax was lost in a dream only moments before – one of silky, living fabric with the softest stuffing that rang with a hushed, pleading voice for him and only him. For him to give more and more; and in the dream, he was willing – eager – to provide. He’d rattled the mountains to kneel before a ragdoll only to be brought to his knees himself, all for his little doll to just look at him.

To really just look at him.

Jax closed his eyes again, seeking the warm, fuzzy afterglow of the caresses shared in his lost dream. He desperately tried to sink deeper into his mattress, as he was pressed into the softness of his doll only moments before.

But now he was burning from the inside out.

Red-hot fire nipped and crackled on his skin and yet, Jax wanted to curl into himself and burst into shivers as his heart bashed into his ribcage, threatening to jump out from his throat. The sensations caused him to forget to reign in his breathing, so he was left almost panting, until the sound of his own voice riled him up even more. He sounded so pathetic and desperate in the confines of his own room.

Suddenly Jax’s attention was drawn to his claws, now ripped through his yellow gloves, and digging into his pillow. He pulled back his hands and forced himself to relax his digits enough, to allow the claws to sink back into place; tucked away and safe. The rabbit spied the little holes that his claws left in the plush bedding, feeling the sour taste of guilt invade his being.

That could’ve been Raggs.

Just like that, the sour was drowned in the glowing, shivering heat that trembled through him again. He groaned as he rolled over to sit up on the edge of his bed. He tried to force the thoughts of her eyes out of his head, only to be thrusted into the intrusive impulse of crushing her against him, stealing her breaths.

The bunny laid his face into his hands and felt the sting of tears at the back of his eyes. It’s been a while since he felt like this, and the frustration was getting to him in ways that was almost too embarrassing to acknowledge. Jax knew that he was only going to suffer more once he left the safety of his room and he desperately tried to muster up all the reasons why he shouldn’t leave.

But someone would come knocking at his door if he didn’t – and heaven forbid that it would be Ragatha calling his name from the outside…

Because he might not be able to stop himself from dragging her into his depths only to screaming his name from the inside…

No.

This had to stop.

He was going to be fine, frustration been damned! It was just a bit of an off day, but nothing like he hasn’t lived through before. Yes, Jax was well equipped to handle the tug of war between touch-aversion and touch-starvation for the day. Just one day.

Just like he’d done all the mere handful of times he felt like this since he got here.

Jax lifted his arms to stretch, hearing the ring in his ears as he groaned at the pleasure of relieving his tense muscles. Speaking of stiffness, Jax felt the overall form of his body being a tad bit more defined and firmer than usual. Intrigued by this discovery, he poked at his bicep to confirm that it was as solid as it appeared, before rolling his eyes in annoyance. He must have really been tensed up and… invested… in that dream of his for him to notice it – or maybe his mind was just trying to occupy himself to forget the yearning for his doll’s hands to glide over his skin.

Ugh, it was going to be a rough day…

Whether Jax wanted to or not, he eventually left his room and dragged himself down the empty hallway of many doors. Voices buzzed from the main area, but he was too distracted to single them out, so the bunny was left to the element of surprise. He didn’t mind it too much, as he believed that any conversation would stimulate him beyond the confusing war between the contradicting needs of his body versus his mind.

The itch that only another’s touch could soothe, versus the itch of the unbearable residue that the touch would leave in its wake.

It was pathetic.

Finally met with the familiar figures in the main area, the rabbit’s eyes were pulled and fixed onto a specific scene. He narrowed his eyes, as his mind raced through multiple thoughts, not quite knowing what to make of what he saw.

Pomni and Kinger were off to the side of the main group, seemingly in a conversation that held the keen attention of the jester. She was practically fixated on the oversized chess piece, who by no doubt was talking about something deeper than the ramblings of a madman. Jax spotted mismatched eyes of the king dulled and muddled – and for once, sober. Just then, Jax decided to steer clear of those two, not wanting to rain on the royal’s parade.

It’s been so long since Kinger was as aware as he was now.

Even Jax wouldn’t want to knock down that precious house of cards. When Kinger was oriented, things were just… better in the Circus. It wasn’t something that anyone could explain, but something about Kinger holding out for so long, made life in the Digital Realm seem possible – even when surrounded and inflicted by anything and everything that was impossible. Granted, those sober moments were few, brief and far in-between, but they were there, rooted, and present. Jax recalled many instances where he was met with the elder’s sobriety, only for it to crumble to ash when he attempted to delve into it.

A genuine question asked by Jax in attempt to encourage the continuation of Kinger’s clear mindset, only met with the abrupt cut-off of another startled question by Kinger about whatever was happening at that moment, as if it never happened in the first place.

The snake’s charms were also proven to be ineffective against the royal, barely acknowledging his baiting and deliberate sabotage, but Jax kept hissing and striking regardless. In fact, everyone included Kinger in the happenings of the oasis, regardless of the effectiveness of it all. Anything that anyone could do for another precious moment of clarity from the king, was considered a worthy effort, because if he could make it this far and still have his mind…

Who’s to say they couldn’t make it either – even if only in small, precious increments?

What a shame to see such a precious moment of clarity to be wasted on a stupid waste of space. She had no idea how lucky she was to have that gem in her grimy little grasp.

Jax scoffed; deciding to look to where the rest of the group was situated. His heart clenched at the sight of his girls, watched over by none other than Zooble themself.

Gangle was happily wrapped around Ragatha’s slim frame. He could tell that the ribbon continuously squeezed the doll with a firm, but gentle pressure, just as Ragatha liked it. He heard Zooble mumble teasing comments about Raggs 'stealing their girl' as Gangle nuzzled her face into the top of the doll’s head, burying her face into the red wooly locks with an admittedly cute smile on her face. Sometimes, Jax wished for them to be living another life, where the bunny would be free to just pinch and tug the masked ribbon’s cheeks. He’d make it hurt, that’s for sure!

And then, there was his doll, also smiling and content – at ease in the crushing grasp of Gangle’s magic touch. The doll often sought out the ribbonoid for her infamous squeeze, as they found that Gangle was the best at practicing Ragatha’s occasional need for deep-pressure therapy.

Sure, some time ago, it was a case of desperation on Jax’s part to indulge his doll with his weighted cuddling, but Gangle was the ideal option. He didn’t mind the rare time with his dolly one bit, though. The annoying itch and bother prickling at his skin for the few hours afterwards was all the more worth it to have Ragatha melted and helpless beneath him.

Where she belonged.

Jax felt a warm, but not exactly unpleasant tingling ghost over his lips when his needy thoughts pushed back into his head upon remembering the sensual kiss he left on the inside of her wrist. It was when she wordlessly begged him to have her caress his cheek as her shaking hand hovered in offering for him to accept or reject. He couldn’t ever say no then – he doubted that he’d ever be able to say no to her ever.

Her face… her voice… pleading his name like a prayer...

Stop it.

 It’s just worse because of that stupid, unrealistic dream he had before! It didn’t matter how much he dreamt about him sinking and drowning into his doll, because in the waking world, he was just a broken snake that felt the need to shed his skin every time anyone had the mere thought of touching him.

Why couldn’t he just be normal?

For the time being, he’d be happy to just live vicariously through Gangle securely holding Ragatha as she sat cross-legged on the floor, while Gangle playfully blew raspberries at Zooble, who could only shake their head in mock-disappointment. It was written all over the ragdoll’s face and evident in the melody of her bright laugh; Ragatha felt safe and content.

That was more than enough for Jax to be happy.

Right?

“Jax! Took you long enough!” Jax was pulled out from his thoughts upon the sound of Zooble’s bored, bossy tone, “You’re lucky Caine’s not here yet. Where were you anyway?”

Jax’s sleazy grin was fixed on his face, trained and trimmed as the snake he was, “Oh, you know… definitely not snooping around you rooms or anything – but hypothetically, if I were, I’m pretty sure I forgot something in one of them, so if you find it, be sure to give me a shout!” He winked.

“Jax, I swear…” Ragatha’s face was pulled into a scowl, but the fire she possessed proved her spirit to shine as bright as ever, “If you rigged my room with firecrackers and smoke bombs again, I am going to lose it.”

“What?” Jax exclaimed in false expiration, “Didn’t you hear me say that it was hypothetical, Dollface? You might wanna get your ears checked, because it seems I left one too many centipedes in your room to crawl into them at night.”

“Oh my lord, Jax stop. Just stop.” Ragatha squirmed to get her arms free from Gangle’s grasp and cover her ears while shutting her eyes, “You are tricking me into thinking that I can actually feel them in my head!”

“I just got her to calm down, Jaaaax!” Gangle whined, switching out her masks to frown properly.

Jax wanted to laugh, but the girl’s whining rang an alarm.

Why would Raggs need to calm down?

He had to be smart about this – the coldblooded snake couldn’t show that he cared, so asking about it was out of the question. He considered using his silence – that always got someone talking.

He raised an eyebrow for good measure.

To his luck, Gangle just knew, as she always did, “She’s feeling a little touch starved today.”

Ragatha opted to cover her face instead of her ears. Her cheeks were glowing red with embarrassment, and she groaned out Gangle’s name to shut the ribboniod up, but the damage was done. Zooble saw Jax perk up more than he probably should have, followed by him sinking into himself like he was dragging dead weight with him. He was struggling to maintain his composure, Zooble thought to themself, surprised that even they were able to read him so easily today.

Meanwhile Jax was suffering from the internal fire that just didn’t seem to leave him be today.

What dumb luck for him and his poor little dolly to be suffering the same fate. He consoled himself that the solution was at least easier for Raggs than it was for him. He had other issues that prevented him from getting the help he wanted. He only wanted his doll’s touch – but even then, he didn’t really want it, either. It felt a bit comforting to know that Ragatha was suffering alongside him, but it killed him that he couldn’t do anything about it!

If he were to indulge in her touch like he did a mere week before, he would probably want to skin himself by the end of it all. The whole situation was bizarre to begin with! It was rare that he craved touch so quickly after such an invasive encounter, but here he was. And there she was.

Even though he knew that they were so different, it hurt a little to think that his touch only satisfied her until now, before she felt near distressed with need again.

And it also hurt that Gangle could replace his touch so well.

It actually hurt a little more than he was willing to admit.

Someone’s eyes were burning into his face and it was enough to have him jump out of his own head, looking over his fellow circus mates to see who’s eyes it was. He was surprised to find his dolly’s eyes peeking through her fingers. When he looked to her, she didn’t avert her gaze, so he had a chance to get a read on her, only for the bunny to find something he didn’t expect.

Ragatha had that yearning look again.

She watched his face very closely, as she slowly lowered her hands from her face, never once glancing away. The doll was calling out to him – he knew she was! His core was invaded with butterflies as she entranced him with that look that she seemed to reserve for him alone. He fell in love with how she silently pleaded for him, only to realize that she was, in fact, silently pleading for him.

He blinked but didn’t stir otherwise, trying to uphold his careless façade.

‘What do you want?’ a single, swift scrunch of his face was all he needed for her to understand.

Ragatha blinked in turn, and after a moment of her tossing her gaze around in search for an answer, her eyes fixed on him… or rather… his legs. His thighs? ...His hips?

Jax wanted to be set ablaze with that thought alone, but at the same time, he couldn’t stop the chuckle that bubble up from his chest. He knew it was unlikely but the thought of Ragatha being vexed by his hips was a hilarious thought at the time.

When Ragatha’s face became adorned with confusion, he flashed her a cheeky smile and swung his hips playfully, if not a tad suggestive. Her eye widened to resemble a dinnerplate before the dam broke and she burst into explosive laughter. It was so sudden that Jax could only bend over and wheeze as Gangle squeaked in surprise.

“I’m sorry!” Ragatha squeezed out in apology to her, but with one look to Jax’s face, laughter erupted from her with a new vigor. As Jax sunk onto his hands and knees, it seemed that he couldn’t risk looking at the doll without laughing either. The situation left Gangle and Zooble glancing between the 2 in the utmost confusion, but they didn’t get the chance to ask anything.

“My, my! It’s sure is a jolly occasion we have here!” Caine’s voice boomed from above, suddenly floating in the space between Jax and Ragatha, “Care to share the joke, folks? The audience would be dying to know!”

“Oh, Caine, hey buddy!” Jax managed to say as he desperately tried to just breathe again, “Don’t- don’t worry about it-” Jax cut himself off with a something in between a whine and a suppressed giggle.

“Yes, it was all just-” Ragatha caught her laugh and offered a moment of silence, before trying to continue in a shaking voice, “Just a misunderstaNdInG.”

Laughter erupted again, though it was more of a chaotic jumble of wheezes and heavy breathing between the bunny and the doll. It was a challenge for Gangle and Zooble not to feel left out, but they found themselves smiling at their friends who were finally blowing off some steam.

For whatever reason they were unaware of…

The laughter eventually died down as Caine enthusiastically explained the adventure he had cooked up for the crew. When he disappeared in a cloud of smoke, the team reluctantly divided themselves into groups of 2, purely based on whomever wanted to team up. The only two who didn’t team up willingly, was Kinger and Pomni, who were the last two left after Gangle clung to Zooble and Jax slide beside Ragatha.

They were chummy before, right? Who better to be paired together than the 2 local nutjobs?

There was a brief commotion of protest and complaining, before the teams departed and split up to perform the silly tasks that were set out to complete the adventure, as Caine described. It wasn’t long before the silence between the bunny and the doll was broken by Jax right after they lost sight of the others.

“So, Dollface, I didn’t take you as the blunt and forward type of gal!” Jax wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “Unless it’s just ‘cause it’s me and I’m just too irresistible to be taken out to dinner first.”

“Oh, quiet you! I told you that it was a misunderstanding.” Ragatha blew him off, much to Jax’s dismay.

He pressed on with his signature grin fixed on his face, determined to understand, “You told Caine that. You didn’t tell me squat. So? Out with it! What were you looking at? Whattaya want, Doll?”

Ragatha sighed, much like a tired mother would, “It’s fine, Jax, it’s over now. We can leave it be.”

“Nuh uh, it ain’t over. We’re bringing it back, toots!” Jax dismissed her immediately.

But the doll didn’t seem to budge.

“You’d never be able to handle it! You’ll live with the eternal regret for even considering asking.”

Was that a challenge?

“Oh ho ho, darlin’…” Jax tone shifted to a menacing one, causing Ragatha to audibly gulp when he moved to stop her from walking on, looming over her, “You have no idea what you just started.”

She recovered quickly, thinking that Jax was messing around as he usually was, “Jax, we should forget it ever happened. I’m serious!”

“So am I.”

It turns out he was actually serious for once.

“What do you want, Ragatha?” Jax asked in an ominous tone, not giving the doll the chance to digest just how serious he was to use her full name.

It turns out was actually really, really serious for once.

“What does it matter?” the ragdoll breathed, hardly intimidated, yet greatly stunned.

“What do you mean ‘what does it matter?’” Jax shuffled closer to stand inches away, causing for the doll to crane her neck to look up at him, “When you beg for me with that pretty little eye of yours, what makes you think it wouldn’t matter?”

Ragatha felt the familiar rush of heat bite her cheeks as Jax blown pupils pinned her in place. His words could easily just be the words of the snake, but something within Ragatha’s depths wanted to believe that it was only the words of the man before her.

Her man.

 “If I tell you what I want, you have to deal with the regret of knowing by yourself.” Ragatha spoke with a calm, steady voice as she prepared for the moment to wither away with the diminished sound of her future confession, “Are we clear?”

“Crystal.” Jax murmured, not once breaking his gaze from her face.

Ragatha took a deep breath and looked him dead in the eyes, steeling herself for the disappointment to drag down his spirit. She took only a second longer to appreciate the churring sound of Jax’s teeth grinding within his mouth.

“Your hands.” Ragatha sighed in defeat, “I was looking at your hands.”

Jax didn’t stir or change his demeanor, silently processing the information, “My hands…”

Hands. What could she want with his hands?

Hands grab.

Hands carry.

Hands hold.

Hands touch…

Oh. Oh.

OH!

Realization must have washed over his face, because Ragatha allowed her head to fall forward in regret.

“Do you see now?” she asked with sorrow lacing her voice, “You regret knowing now.”

Jax was silent for a moment, only to softly speak up – almost to himself, “Do you know why I was late this morning?” a beat of silence, “I was dreaming about your hands too.”

Ragatha’s head flung itself up, to look at him in shock, but was met with the saddened expression of the bunny as he continued to speak, “In my dreams, I can’t get enough of them. I can’t get enough of your touch, Raggs.”

The doll’s eye started stinging with tears, but her face remained stuck in shock.

Jax wasn’t finished, “Seeing you enwrapped with Gangle makes me so happy, Raggs. I love seeing my girls take care of each other, but believe me when I tell you that I’m selfish enough to wish that you came to me instead – even if I can’t hold you like she can…”

The silence that followed, stretched a bridge between them.

The ragdoll blinked once before taking the chance to speak, “May I touch you right now? Please?”

More silence deafened them, but a lot was said in the looks they shared.

Jax sighed, bracing himself for the confusing tingles his doll tend to leave on his skin, “...Go on.”

Without knowing what to expect, Jax eyed the movements of her hands, only to see them fold into each other behind her back. The rabbit’s breath hitched as he saw the whole of Ragatha's body move closer to stand against his frame with her forehead resting right under his chin. He violently shivered when he felt the doll’s breath caress his upper chest.

His brain malfunctioned when he felt her soft, warm lips place a long, tender kiss on his sternum.

No itching. No tingles. No burning.

Fireworks.

He huffed out an aspirated breath and allowed his shaky hands to grab at her shoulders to keep her in place when he felt her hastily back away. He proceeded to wrap his arms around Ragatha and crush her against his body, as he did in his dreams, suffering the onslaught of firecrackers and sparks erupting from everywhere their bodies met. Her cheek was pressed against his chest, and she could hear the thundering beats of his heart bashing to break free from its cage.

The sound that left his dolly’s mouth would haunt him for years to come and he couldn’t care less. For the first time since he was trapped in the Digital Circus, Jax was overwhelmed by the white-hot bliss of touch.

...Until it became all too much, all too soon.

And the dreaded itch crawled back into his skin, causing Jax to grab Ragatha’s shoulders again and harshly shove her back and away from him. The poor bunny was panting and trembling as he looked at Ragatha’s face in shock.

She was as frazzled as he was but she recovered quicker to tend to the poor, overstimulated bunny.

“I just want you to understand one thing.” Ragatha spoke between a few harsh breaths as she calmed down, “At times, I may need someone else's touch, but…”

Jax fought to focus his eyes on the woman before him – to indicate that she had his utmost attention, just before she blew all thoughts from his mind as she completed her sentence;

“I will always want you more than anything.”

She didn't need to say more, trusting that he understood her words perfectly.

Unlike a 'need', a 'want' can not be fulfilled.

Oasis: TADC AU list

Masterlist

[depravitycentral]

Yandere! Phinks Magcub General Profile

Yandere! Phinks Magcub x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, violence, Phinks slaps you, mentions of murder, mentions of non-con, mentions of masturbation, possessiveness, Phinks has anger issues, mentions of stalking, fem! reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy! 

DARLING PROFILE:

Friendly

In general, Phinks is not a soft man. He’s a hard edged criminal, finding his thrills in beating others and theft. There is no part of him that’s sweet –  in fact, he’d say that would almost be an insult.

And yet, there’s something weirdly alluring about a darling who is; someone who’s genuine, kind, and social. Phinks isn’t that much of a talker, but there’s something about just being genuinely friendly and open to other people that he finds incredibly cute. Naïve, yes, but adorable nonetheless.

It’s endearing to see his darling so freely chatting and interacting with those around them, making them smile and laugh and feel comfortable. It’s endearing, until suddenly it isn’t – once his obsession with them forms, Phinks is honestly hating this side of his beloved’s personality.

Of course, it’s overwhelmingly cute and only further shows just how soft and sweet and opposite his darling is compared to him, but once his possessiveness forms it’s a bit of a death sentence for anyone his darling decides to smile at, to give a random compliment, to do anything.

He wants no one taking his darling’s time, no one getting the opportunity to bask in the warmth and loveliness that is his sweet, precious darling. All of that is reserved solely for him, and he’ll be damned if he has to share.

So while this his darling’s friendliness is initially part of what attracts him, it also helps drive forward many of Phinks’s more troubling tendencies – he’s so possessive if only because his darling talks to so many strangers, and at the end of the day, isn’t it really just their fault? For being so damn sweet?

Playful

Despite being one of the most dangerous criminals in the world, it’s incredibly easy to fluster Phinks. He’s not particularly smooth with women, and so a darling that is quick on their feet is a perfect match for him.

He likes the idea of his darling being able to keep up with him, always knowing what to say to get him at a loss for words, their quick tongue making him bashful and struggle for words. It’s embarrassing to look so foolish when he’s blubbering and unsure of how to respond when they wink at him and tell him he’s looking handsome today, but he'd be lying if he said he doesn’t fucking love it, his ego multiplying tenfold with every compliment that slips past his darling’s lips.

He likes the idea of his darling being chipper and happy, if only because Phinks himself is easily swayed by his emotions, and having a positive darling helps him stay calmer and more in control.

Besides, as his obsession grows, so do his fantasies – he’s got this daydream of his darling cooking with him, all domestic bliss while they move around the kitchen and he sits at the dining table watching, with they sending him looks and throw jokes over their shoulder. He wants them to boop his nose with a bit of sauce or flour, then kiss it clean, winking at them and watching his face go bright red as he clears his throat and tries to recover.

It’s lame, he thinks, to be so vulnerable, but he can’t deny the way his heart races when he thinks of it, how he gets all warm and gooey on the inside like some lovesick teenage boy.

A playful darling would be a good fit, and Phinks is smitten as soon as he sees this side of them.

Patient

Because Phinks has issues regulating his emotions, having a darling who is more steady and consistent is a good match for him. He needs someone who is able to calm him down, to stop him from exploding and raging at the slightest inconvenience, and as time passes Phinks slowly begins seeing his darling as his rock.

He turns to them for emotional support more often than he would like to admit, and as soon as he feels rage swimming in his veins he’s desperately running to them, because even just seeing them calms him down, the anger replaced by fondness, love, yearning.

He becomes dependent on them from a very early stage, their presence being the only thing to make him feel normal, sane, calm, and he quickly grows addicted to the feeling.

His darling is like his own personal drug, and really, how can Phinks be expected to not chase down this feeling, to not snatch his darling up all for himself? He’s a selfish man, and he has his needs – he’s just lucky that his darling, with all their patience and ability to calm him, fulfill more than just one of his needs.

Many more.

Competitive

This one isn’t absolutely necessary for Phinks, but a more competitive darling is a significant turn-on for him. He likes a darling who isn’t completely meek; he wants them to be a bit of a spitfire, and while he doesn’t want them to be too competitive, he likes that his darling doesn’t just simply roll over and submit to those around them.

It’s attractive to see the way they get this glint in their eye, a desire to win rolling through them, and frankly, when Phinks sees his darling acting this way, he has to shift his pants a bit, discreetly trying to hide the way they’re getting just a bit too tight.

He likes this about his darling, but when it comes to him, Phinks doesn’t particularly like this trait. When he’s trying to take care of them, to protect them, he wants his darling to give into everything he says, to obey him without question.

He’s just trying to help them, and if his darling grows stubborn and decides to be a brat, he struggles to remain calm and rational, to not lash out and tell them to shut the fuck up and get into the bed, you have to sleep.

He wants his darling to keep this fiery personality trait, but to regulate it so that they aren’t super competitive with him – maybe playfully, sure, but not to the point where it throws a wrench in the relationship.

After all, he wants your relationship to normal, perfect, healthy, and if his darling is constantly fighting him, how can it be any of these things? Can’t they at least try and make it work, just like Phinks is? Can’t they see how frantically he’s trying?

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Lucid

Despite not exactly being the most romantic man alive, Phinks has enough knowledge about relationships to know that the way he feels for you is far from normal.

He’s very aware that you probably wouldn’t appreciate how his every thought revolves around you, how he’s constantly wondering what you’re doing, who you’re with, how you’re feeling, if you’re thinking about him…

He knows the obsession he’s harboring over you is wrong, that he’s a creep and a perverted, sick freak for tracking your whereabouts, for killing any man that comes close to you, for loving you in such an uncontrolled, passionate way, and while he wants to stop himself, to halt the feelings his has for you and lose the intense fascination and desire he feels for you, Phinks just can’t – both in reality and in principle. His feelings for you are too great, too intense and overwhelming and wonderful for him to ever be able to dispel of. He'll quickly come to the conclusion that he’ll always be in love with you, regardless of what happens, and regardless of how long he lives.

There’s just no way to lose interest in the person he honestly believes is his soulmate, the person he’d give anything and everything for. He quickly  gives up trying, because it only hurts his heart, only makes him more and more desperate for you.

And of course, there’s also the more selfish side of him that loves having someone to love, someone to care for and want to protect at all costs. You’re one of the only people in his life that Phinks actually gives a damn about, that he wants to see safe and smiling and free from every single curse this world can dole out, and so the mere concept of losing you, of trying to forget you and move on causes his heart to physically hurt.

You’re so important to him, the main reason why he’s still living (aside from the Troupe, of course), and while it eats him alive from the guilt, Phinks slowly begins rationalizing his obsession and need for you as simply wanting to give you the amount of love and care that you deserve. He wants to be a good partner for you, for you to always be satisfied and want for nothing because of him, and one of the ways in which he shows this is to absolutely spoil you.

He’s never been the best at soft, gushy feelings, but the warmth that brews in his heart when he picks up the bouquet of red roses, of soft baby blue buttercups, of white tulips, he can’t help but smile softly and feel his cheeks heating up, because you deserve every fucking flower in the world, and even then they wouldn’t be enough to compare to your beauty.

When he picks out the necklace he’d like to steal for you (he won’t tell you it’s stolen of course, but you’ll quickly come to realize the exact nature of his profession), his heart hammers in his chest at the thought of you wearing it, of you loving it and proudly telling him and the world that Phinks owns you, that he treats you so well, and that he gives you everything you could ever want.

He spoils you beyond belief, hoping that the gifts will make up for his all of his violent, overbearing, wrong tendencies. He hopes it’ll work, and for the most part it helps ease his mind – so if you’re somehow who doesn’t like getting gifts or being so indebted, get used to it.

Phinks wants to give you the world, and with his skills in the ways of procuring valuables, he’s readily prepared to give it to you. Anything for you.

Possessive

In Phinks’s mind, you are completely and utterly his.

He still has enough lucidity about his feelings to recognize that you’re your own person, but only to a certain extent – yes, you have your own feelings and thoughts, but every part of you belongs to him. Your mind, such a pretty and entertaining thing to him, is owned by Phinks Magcub himself, forced to bend to whatever he wants and dictates, just as it should be.

Your body (something he spends hours dreaming about, shaky fingers hovering over your curves for minutes at a time once he’s got you in front of him) is his property, for him to do whatever he pleases with.

He figures that because he does so much for you (all of the protection he provides you, the security and guarantee that no one will ever touch you), the least you could do is be willingly his, to give into his possessiveness and let him just completely own you.

He has a real problem with jealousy where you’re concerned; in his eyes, every single male on the planet is a rival for your love and affection, a possible deterrent from you realizing how Phinks himself is the only one you could ever be truly happy with or need. His automatic assumption for every man within a ten foot radius of you is that they want you, that they want to talk to you and smile at you and use you and touch you and fuck you –

His blood boils the second someone approaches you, regardless of their intent – your male friend stops by to ask about the newest assignment from your boss? Immediately Phinks is scowling, fists clenching at his sides, aura flaring up impossibly because why is this piece of shit staring at you like you’re some slab of fine meat?

When the man in the grocery store accidentally bumps into you after turning around, immediately Phinks is shaking with rage, angry that this man thinks he can just touch you like you’re some commoner, like you aren’t the literal reason for his very existence.

 It’s unhealthy to be so controlling and obsessive over making sure that you stay his, and for the most part Phinks knows this – he knows that he really shouldn’t have a say in who you hang out with, who you think of and where your gaze falls as you sit on the subway car to work, but he just can’t help it.

You’re all he thinks about, all he cares about, the only thing besides killing and the Troupe that gets him up in the morning; it’s the promise of making sure that you’re safe, of making sure that nothing ever gets between the two of you that gives him the drive to function.

Of course, while the swirling mix of rage and utter desperation for you is never ending in his gut, he’s more than aware that in order to really have you, in order to get you to actually love him back and not be terrified of his every move, he can’t be nearly as obvious as he wants to be about his infatuation with you.

He wants nothing more than to sock every man in the face who so much as glances at you, to leave them bloodied, bruised and thrust to death in the most painful ways, all with you watching and seeing just how far Phinks is willing to go to prove his love to you. But he knows that if you saw that you’d only cower away from him, terrified of what he could do to you if he was able to destroy so many men larger, stronger and more knowledgeable about combat than you.

And really, fear is the last thing Phinks wants you to harbor for him – he craves a normal relationship with you, to have all of the overplayed, cliché romance Hallmark movie moments with you. So while the urge to just grab you and keep you away from everything and everyone, to keep you completely and utterly his is nearly too overwhelming to ignore, Phinks holds out.

For you.

Because he knows it’ll only push you away, and Phinks isn’t kidding when he says he would literally die without you – you’re a drug to him, and he’s a greedy man.  He isn’t willing to share his supply of happiness with anyone else, no matter how you beg and plead with him. He’s stubborn, so it’s really in your best interest to just submit to your fate and let him hold you in his lap, hands awkwardly set at your sides and palpably clammy.

Just let him do what he wants, because in the end he’ll always get what he wants.

Protective

While he’s by no means a gentle man, there’s something about you that makes him pale at the idea of being rough. Maybe it’s because you’re just so weak compared to him, so soft and sweet and nice, but he can’t stomach the idea of letting other people hurt you.

He’s more than aware that the world is full of horrible, blood thirsty criminals who kill at the snap of a finger (hell, he’s one of them, he would know), and in the context of your safety, Phinks can’t help but imagine all the worst case scenarios. He can’t help but imagine any number of them getting their hands on you, of any of them deciding that you’d be a quick, fun kill. He can vividly see in his mind you being snatched off the street, gagged and bound at the wrists while some psychopath makes you cry and scream, your pretty blood staining your skin and the life draining from your eyes.

The idea of you being hurt, tortured, raped, killed or any number of other horrible things is genuinely something that gives him nightmares. There’s this cold, sinking feeling in his gut that forces him up and out of bed, racing towards your home when he awakes from these dreams, his lungs burning as he runs faster than he ever has.

He’s picking at your lock with trembling fingers, slipping inside and hurriedly rushing to your room, eyes darting around wildly to make sure that you’re still breathing, that your body is all in on piece, that you aren’t bleeding and sobbing and broken.

He’s only able to take a deep, steadying breath when he sees you safe and sound asleep, your chest rising and falling steadily while your eyes dart around under their eyelids.

It’s a calming sight, one that immediately makes his heart stutter, his cheeks heating up because god, how can you be so beautiful without even trying? He has to grab onto the corner of your drawers to steady himself and keep from sinking to his knees in relief, and sometimes even a tear or two will trickle down his cheek if the nightmare was particularly graphic.

You dream of strange men that night, fingers gripping onto your hand with a force that makes you wince, your palm clammy and aching when you wake up in the morning.

He’s paranoid about your safety, absolutely convinced that without him around you’d be nothing more than a pile of bones rotting in some monster’s basement or left to die in some ditch in the country side. He’s not used to caring so intensely about someone, and he’s quite honestly blindsided by the enormity of his feelings, of how the compulsive need to be checking up on you every minute of the day hits him so hard at the most random moments.

He’s irritated in a way, at how you seem to draw so much emotion out of him without even trying, but Phinks could never, ever be mad at you about it – after all, while it’s overwhelming and scary just how much he cares for you, he wouldn’t trade the way you make him feel for the world. You’re so warm and soft, and you make Phinks so fucking happy.

Just being around you is enough to give him a massive serotonin boost, a smile that doesn’t leave his face all day no matter how hard he tries (the blush is present too, and Feitan is constantly teasing him, always telling him how he’s such a sappy little schoolgirl, did you write about her in your diary?, only to be punched halfway across the room and still snicker). He’s giddy, truly, even if you so much as glance in his direction or give him some half-hearted smile. In general Phinks can’t express enough how grateful he is to have someone like you in his life, such a beacon of happiness and joy for someone as misguided and undeserving as himself.

It’s only natural, then, to want to keep his source of love and devotion and obsession safe, to make sure that nothing will ever touch you or harm your perfect body, your pretty skin.

He isn’t exactly subtle about his protectiveness over you either – you’ll realize very quickly that he thinks of you as a glass doll, with the way he’s always hovering at your side, moving you closer to him anytime another man passes, eyes raking over your frame at constant fifteen minute intervals to check for bruises or cuts.

(And, though you don’t know it, the way that Phinks rummages through your things and makes sure that every blade in your home is dulled, that your stove can’t go any higher than a medium setting, that your locks are all the highest quality grade, it makes his obsession over making sure you don’t ever get hurt more than apparent).

It’s a curse he doesn’t mind undergoing, if only because he honestly views you as needing him, requiring his protection to live your life.

He’s not exactly sure how you managed to survive as long as you did without him, but now that he has you in his sights, so obviously needing him and being desperate for a big, strong man like him to make sure that you can have the easiest life you can, Phinks will make sure that he lives up to your each and every expectation of him.

After all, your opinion means everything, and just seeing your smile and hearing your laugh is enough to have Phinks proud, knowing that he’s fulfilling his role, that he’s keeping you safe and happy and his.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Jealousy is something that gets the better of Phinks much more often than he’d like to admit. He’s so possessive, so hellbent on making sure that you stay his and that no one else even so much as looks at you, that it leads to him interpreting interest from other guys way more often than what’s really true.

You’re absolutely perfect to Phinks, a literal human embodiment of everything he could want in a partner, both good and bad. And because of this, he’s so convinced that everyone else would be just as in love with you, just as desperate to make you theirs and keep you with them as he is, so isn’t it his job to make sure that that can’t happen?

Everyone is a threat to the relationship he’s so desperate to have and build with you, and Phinks will stop at absolutely nothing to make sure that nothing could ever possibly separate the two of you. His desperation is honestly a bit pathetic, to the point where many of the members of the troupe honestly take pity on him, thinking it’s sad to see their fellow comrade so helplessly obsessed with a sweet, innocent woman.

Jealousy consumes him, to the point where all he’s seeing is red, panic lacing at his chest because what if you decide that man who’s chatting with you and making you laugh is better than Phinks?

What if you decide that you’d rather be with the waiter at that restaurant you love – the one who always jokes around with you because you’re such a regular customer?

Phinks isn’t the most insecure man around, but when it comes to you and the question of your relationship, suddenly he feels like a teenage boy again; awkward in his own skin, terrified that the girl of his dreams thinks that he’s too violent, too ugly, too boring and mean.

And while he knows rationally that you don’t think these things, how can he help it when he’s watching from a few dozen yard away as you laugh and thank the man in the supermarket who helped you get the can of food at the very top shelf?

How can he help it when he sees you being so nice to others, being so kind and generous and friendly, only to have them turn around and exploit you for every ounce of kindness in your bones?

It makes him angry, beyond enraged to think of how others could be hurting you, how they could be trying to steal you away, wanting to beat you or kill you or rape you or any number of things – and so, Phinks must make sure that you stay safe, that there’s absolutely no chance on you ever being alone with another man. He has to keep your wellbeing in tact, and, of course, keep you completely his and his alone.

Because he feels so strongly when he sees that man approach you on the street corner and ask you in you know where the nearest bank is, Phinks has trouble holding himself back.

You’re kind to the man, blinking up at him and scrunching your brows in thought, trying to answer his question as he patiently stands beside you, a small smile on his face. Phinks is pissed – how dare this piece of shit, this worthless nobody approach you like that? How dare they start a conversation with you, stare at you, get to bask in your presence when only Phinks himself should be getting that pleasure?

His fists are clenched at his side, jaw set so tightly he almost fears his teeth might crack. His eyes are narrowed in on the both of you, his mind desperately telling him to stop, don’t do it, don’t do it Phinks she’ll just get scared and then you’ll make backwards progress – and it works, to a certain degree, up until the final straw as the man chats with you.

His hand, placed on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as he smiles down at you, leaning forward ever so slightly for what Phinks is absolutely positive is a glance down your shirt. Suddenly he isn’t just seeing red anymore – he’s seeing scarlet, the bloodlust oozing out of him enough to propel him forward, his face the epitome of rage as he cocks his fist, landing a hard punch against the man’s jaw, hearing a sickening crunch accompanied by the man’s screams.

He’s on the ground in a second, Phinks straddled above him, fists flying as he beats him to a pulp, the rage never ending as he thinks of all the terrible, horrible things that he’d likely been imagining with you, that he’d been aiming to try with you, all while Phinks was right fucking there (or, a good fifty away, but still). He’s growling out curses and spitting on the man, telling him that he’s just a stupid piece of shit, you’re fucking disgusting, you perverted bastard, trying to cop a feel and sneak a peek.

You’re left to watch, shocked beyond belief and too frozen to move as you watch Phinks slowly pull more blood from the man, his body already bruising and twitching as desperate sobs out what you can only assume are pleas to stop escape the victim’s throat. And yet, you can hear perfectly what Phinks is saying, some more distinctly than others – don’t fucking touch her, she’s mine do you understand? I own her, she’s mine, mine mine mine and no one gets to touch her, to look at her, to think about her, certainly not digusting wastes of space like you!

Your jaw is dropped, still too scared to move as you register his words, wondering who this ‘she’ was, if he possibly meant you…?

Phinks doesn’t stop until the man is disfigured beyond recognition, his face smashed in on itself from the beating of his fists, blood staining the pavement under his head, though the frantic rise and fall of his chest and the small pathetic, pained whimpers tell him that he’s still alive.

But at the sudden sound of you sharply gasping and stumbling backwards, trying to put space between yourself and the monster in front of you, suddenly Phinks’s eyes are widening, his head whipping around as he shoots to his feet, running over to you and caging his arms around you.

He pulls you flush against his chest, his heart beating wildly as he whispers frantic apologies in your ear, voice desperate as he tells you he’s so sorry, I don’t know what got into me – he was just touching you and his eyes were basically fucking you and I just – I can’t watch anyone do that to you. Please, you have to understand, tell me you understand!

And while you’re terrified, feeling some of the man’s blood rubbing off of Phinks and onto you, at the end of the day you’re more terrified of one day being in the man’s position, so you shakily nod, whispering that it’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it.

And as Phinks’s body relaxes, relief coursing through him, you can only stare into his chest, fear and hopelessness settling into your heart, because is this who he really is?

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Phinks really does want you to want him.

He’s so in love with you, so desperate for you to return his feelings that it physically hurts, and as a result he’s trying everything he possibly can to approach you normally, to not give away how obsessed he is over you, how badly he wants to just hold you in his arms and never let you go, never let another living soul see you besides him.

He knows his feelings for you are unhealthy, that it’s wrong that he thinks of you as a possession, that he wants to own you, but he just can’t help it. And yet, because of his commitment to wanting to keep your relationship as normal as possible, as happy as possible, Phinks knows that doing something rash like stealing you away really isn’t the best idea.

It’s tempting – tempting as hell, if he’s being honest, because just the idea of you and him living together in a little house bought specifically for the both of you, you waiting patiently for him every evening with a hot dinner on the stove and a big welcome home kiss is enough to have him gulping, a blush dusting his cheeks at the sheer domesticity of it all.

He loves the idea of keeping you dependent on him, of keeping you only by his side where he can keep you safe and make sure that you understand how much he loves you, but he can’t bring himself to actually do it.

He can’t bring himself to gently knock you out, to cover your pretty lips and nose with a chloroform soaked rag, to throw you over his shoulder and give your bum a firm pat, a grin spreading across his features as he thinks of the wonderful, perfect life the two of you are starting.

He can’t bring himself to do it, at least without some push from an outside factor. Phinks will likely try to pursue a friendship with you – he wants to be around you at all times, to have your trust in him build, to make you comfortable and hopefully give you the chance to fall in love with him as well, and because of this he’s able to sate his overwhelming desire for you.

However, try as he may, Phinks just can’t get rid of his possessiveness; even dialing it down to seem more normal and healthy leaves him with enough emphasis on making sure that you don’t talk to anyone else, that you spend all your time with him to raise a brow. And you’ll quickly notice this – he’s a friend, one that you’ve grown to enjoy spending your time with, but his random bouts of jealousy, of insecurity and clinginess are just too much.

The way he butts into your life, changing your schedule to revolve around his is just too overbearing, the signs of a toxic friendship that you know you shouldn’t turn a blind eye to.

And so, you do what makes the most sense – sit him down and tell him that you don’t think you can be friends anymore, that he’s too controlling, too possessive, that you think it would be best if we took some time away from each other, just to clear our heads.

And Phinks is panicking across from you – take a break? Split up? He knows you’re not together yet, but he can’t shake the distinct feeling of rejection, the anger and fear and distress that the idea of you being separated from him causes.

And so, on a bit of a hasty split second decision, Phinks is pressing the pressure point on your neck, catching your limp body in his arms as he takes ragged breaths, mind swimming in anger, excitement and nerves as he hauls you towards your new home, your new life with him.

As a captor, Phinks isn’t too terrible – he’s never been much of a homemaker, not really someone who’s used to taking care of anyone but himself, and while he tries (he tries so, so fucking hard) for you, he’s not especially great at it.

Of course, your health is still the priority in his eyes, something that he cares for more than his own life, and because of this he gets only the best foods, making sure to cater to your tastes and keep your diet a plentiful mix of protein, starch and vegetables, so that your body can stay healthy and strong.

He’s making sure that there’s nothing in the house you could hurt yourself with, keeping every knife and razor away from you, putting a childlock on the stove, not letting you near the freezer. He doesn’t mean to be patronizing, but as he becomes paranoid about your safety and wellbeing, slowly he begins thinking of you as less and less capable, needing more of his help and guidance to do basic things.

He likes to bathe you (though he’ll never force you into it, only ever harboring it as a fantasy until you make it reality), to help dress you (when your body is sore from a night of intense, passionate fucking, he’s more than willing to help slip on one of his oversized shirts, loving the way it pools around your frame), to even help feed you when he’s in an especially loving mood.

But for the most part, Phinks isn’t too touchy with you. He still genuinely wants you to love him, to want to be with him and maybe even enjoy your time under his roof, and in all honesty he’s nursing the dream that one day you’ll turn to him unprompted, completely honest as you cuddle up against him and tell him in the sweetest voice he’s ever heard that you love him, that you’re so happy he’s with you, that you’d never, ever want to leave him.

And because he wants so badly for you to genuinely develop feelings for him, Phinks tries everything that he can to woo you – he’s not great with romance, has little to no experience, but he’s willing to do anything and everything if there’s even the slightest chance that it’ll make you smile at him, that you’ll look at him in anything other than fear, betrayal and apathy.

He begins watching rom-coms religiously, noting the various courting methods, how the male lead always seems to get the love interest laughing, smiling and telling them how funny they are. So, he tries to make jokes around you, hoping to get you to laugh and compliment him, and while you don’t particularly want to, sometimes they’re just so terrible and the look of hope in his eyes is just so heart wrenching that you can’t help but snort, chuckling lightly.

And to Phinks, just that step alone is enough to send him on a wild goose chase, doing everything he can to try and come up with other ways to make you see him in a more positive light. He’s scouring every resource he can – romance novels, online articles about attraction, relationship podcasts, everything and anything.

He even goes to the girls of the Troupe, asking with an embarrassed expression and rubbing the back of his neck if they have any advice on how to win a girl’s heart, something that they all react quite differently to.

Machi isn’t impressed – simply staring at him for a few moments and cocking her brow, before asking him why he thought that she would be a good person to ask – do I look like I’ve ever had a guy pining after me?

Pakunoda is more sympathetic, telling him to try the staples – buy her flowers from time to time, get her little gifts that you know she’ll like. Eventually it might add up over time to where she feels loved and cared for, and then she’ll be more willing to return your feelings.

But, surprisingly, Shizuku is actually the one that gives Phinks the best advice – hmm, well I think just being there for her is important. Ask about things she loves and get her in a happy mood, and just listen to her. Nod along and add a question or comment in every once in a while so she knows you’re listening, but just let her know that you’re genuinely invested in her.

Phinks takes the advice in stride, silently stewing on it before showing up at your shared ‘home’ the next day with a bouquet of lilies in your favorite color, a grocery bag full of your favorite snacks, and a nervous, carefully hopeful smile when he walks through the door.

And really, you know you shouldn’t think of him as anything but your captor, the man who stole you away and wants to keep you as his possession for the rest of your life, but there’s just something about the way he bites his lip as you go through the bag of candy, chips, junk food and snacks one by one.

There’s just something about the way he nearly trips over his own feet as you pat the seat on the sofa next to you expectantly.

There’s just something about the desperation with which he wants to please you, to make you happy and make you love him that will eventually get to you, no matter how hard you try to fight it. Because while it’s wrong and you know it, you’ve never felt this loved before, this desired and wanted, and it’s a strange sort of confidence and boost to your self-esteem, one that manages to warp your whole mental state into thinking that maybe you really do love Phinks, even if he’s a bit rough around the edges.

He spoils you, trying his best to give you every last piece of himself and his affection as he can, and eventually you’ll come to openly receive it, to fulfill his fantasy of you finally accepting him. Besides, there’s just something about the way he blushes and bounces his knee when you compliment him makes your heart melt, and when you tell him you love him, the way he looks so shocked, but so happy and soft and god, is he crying?

Phinks is desperate for you to return his feelings, for you to love him as he loves you, and he’ll stop at nothing to get you there.

PUNISHMENTS:

Phinks has a bit of a temper.

It’s something he’s always been aware of, and for the most part he couldn’t care less – he’s a thief, someone who gets what they want, and if he gets angry in the process, that just means a few more necks to break. He’s used to acting out on his anger, to mercilessly beating and killing those who make him mad, and in a lot of ways it’s simply autopilot to him.

But where you’re concerned, Phinks is absolutely the opposite. He’s terrified of hurting you, of somehow leaving marks of violence on your pretty, soft skin, and for the most part he manages to succeed in not lashing out against you, in not blemishing you in any way. He loves you, and the last thing he wants to do is abuse you, to punch you and kick you and take out every bit of his anger on you, so instead he tries to focus the rage elsewhere.

The desire to just punch something is too great to ignore, and if it can’t be your face or body, the next closest thing is the wall beside him. It scares you and never fails to leave you gasping and shuddering in fear as he punches a hole through the drywall, the grimace of anger and pain turning his features into some monster-esque look, and as you slowly back away, hands covering your mouth and trying to put distance between the both of you, Phinks can only sigh.

He hates scaring you, but his anger gets triggered so easily that it’s something he can’t even hope to control, that he can’t even try to conceal. He gets quite good at fixing drywall, and for a long while it works out. He gets angry at you, punches a hole in the wall, spends a few minutes breathing deeply and muttering under his breath, before turning to you and telling you to not go near the kitchen knives again, do you hear me?

And for the most part, you’re scared into submission. You very vividly remember him beating the living shit out of any guy who so much as looked at you before he stole you away, and because of this you’re more than aware of just how strong he is, at just how talented he is at throwing punches and drawing blood.

Life with Phinks is really just a balancing act in a lot of ways – he wants to please you and make you happy, so as long as you smile and hug him, whisper sweet nothings in his ear and try to not to make him angry at you in any way, you’ll be just fine.

That being said, there are moments when Phinks loses control, when he lets his anger cloud his mind and overwhelm him, his natural habits of lashing out coming to the surface.

Punching the wall is fine and it’s something that he does mostly when it’s small things you do that trigger his anger, like turning the stove on, hopping into the shower without telling him, flinch away slightly when he goes to peck your forehead. But when it’s larger offenses, things that you do that genuinely make him rage, Phinks has a tendency to get a bit more violent, a bit more mindless in his actions.

When he tentatively reaches a hand out to run his callused fingers over your hair, his breath hitches when you softly smile, telling him in a faraway, dreamy voice that you had a friend who used to play with my hair, it was always my favorite. They were really good at it, too.

His whole body is freezing before suddenly shaking, his breathing ragged as he realizes that you’ve just brought another person up, that you’re thinking of someone else while he tries to be loving and intimate with you, and before he knows it he’s on his feet, pushing you against the wall and slamming your back into the hard expanse.

You gasp sharply, staring up at him with wide, fearful eyes while he glares down at you, his teeth grinding together as the swirling pool of jealousy builds greater and greater in his chest, his gut twisting painfully when he realizes that he’s not he only one on your mind, like you are for him.

Don’t you ever talk about anyone else when you’re with me, do you understand? He growls out, hanging his head low so that you can’t see his eyes. You’re terrified, every inch of you trembling in fear as his grip grows tighter on your shoulders.

Answer me!

His voice is loud, curt and terrifying, and as you squeak out a timid y-yes! I understand Phinks, I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to make you jealous, she was just a friend – but before you can finish your rambling, frantic apology, a sudden sharp noise and an overwhelming stinging sensation against your cheek has you whimpering, pain flaring up and making your eyes well with tears.

Phinks is breathing hard, his eyes wild as he stares down at you, his hand still raised as if to slap you again, but when you quietly start crying, the pain mixed with the fear and hopelessness of the situation, suddenly Phinks is snapping out of his rage fueled daze, his heart stopping in his chest as he sees you cowering in front of him, cradling your cheek with tears streaming down your face, your body trembling while you beg him to not hurt you again.

And the guilt the hits Phinks square in the chest has him gasping, stumbling away from you and clutching onto his head, self hatred and regret making him shed a few tears of his own, realization that he just hurt you spinning through his mind.

And before you even get to a chance to say or do anything, suddenly he’s racing out the front door, the locks snapping into place as you slowly sink to your knees, sobbing and letting the emotions wash over you.

Meanwhile, Phinks is wandering aimlessly through the city, not hesitating to mercilessly snap the neck of anyone who dares approach him or try to talk to him, all the while he desperately tries to come up with a solution to make it up to you, to apologize for being such a monster. And, when he returns home a few hours later to find you curled up on your bed, a plush blanket thrown over your figure, he can only gulp and lightly knock against the door, watching as you stiffen up and say nothing.

He sighs, hanging his head and stepping inside the room, placing the bags in his hands onto the bed.

I’m sorry, he starts, discomfort and shame coursing through him. I shouldn’t have hit you, I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you, I shouldn’t have – look, I’m really sorry and I really, really regret it. You don’t have to forgive me, but I got some uh, some stuff while I was out… and as he gently motions the bags towards you, you slowly sight up, eyeing him wearily with puffy eyes as you paw at the bags.

You’re careful to open them, but when you see the packages of food, the jewelry case with a soft silver necklace sitting in it, you can’t help but feel a bit better, as materialistic as it is. And when you move to the next bag, you nearly cry – pictures and frames from your old home, little stuffed animals and knick knacks you’d cherished that were ripped away from you. your favorite books, a blanket, and countless other treasures that have you softly smiling, wiping at your eyes while Phinks watches with bated breath.

And when you finally look up at him, something in your chest feels warm, and immediately you know that you’re too far gone. Because when you look at Phinks, the man who stole you away, who keeps you locked up in his home, dependent on him and loses his anger when you talk about another soul, you only see an awkward, love struck man, who loves you more than life itself.

You know it’s Stockholm Syndrome at work, but as you softly whisper I forgive you, Phinks, you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not when the relief on his face is practically palpable, when he fiddles nervously with his fingers as you slowly get up and move to hug him. He gasps quietly, chocked by your affection, but quickly he’s clutching you against him, leaning down and breathing deeply next to your hair, letting your scent calm him as he basks in the feeling of holding you.

It’s wrong, but as time passes, you’ll slowly come to love Phinks – in a twisted, warped way, but isn’t all love just so wonderful?

OVERALL DANGER:

7/10

Phinks, despite being a violent, misguided man, is actually a rather tragic yandere – he’s so desperate for you to love him back, for you to hold even an ounce of the adoration and affection he feels for you, and he’s not at all subtle about it, no matter how he tries.

He wants to love you like a normal man, to give you a happy, loving life by his side, but he just can’t – his obsession is too strong, his possessiveness too overwhelming. He wants to keep you safe and happy, to keep you healthy and next to him, and he really does have good intentions for the most part – he’s awkward in love, nervous and anxious and wanting to constantly be around you.

He’s possessive to a fault, wanting to keep you utterly his and his alone, and in all honesty that’s what fuels the vast majority of his yandere tendencies – when he’s mercilessly attacking other men who might be construed as rivals for your love and affection, it’s the thought of keeping you by his side that’s guiding him.

When he’s gently knocking you out and slipping you into the new, queen sized mattress he’d stolen just for the two of you, it was all on the basis of making sure that you never stray from his side, that he can keep you close and safe and his for the rest of your lives.

He just wants you to love him back, and you honestly might – the desperation he feels for you is strong enough that you can almost physically feel it, the utter need and desire to just be loved by you pulling at your heartstrings and making you eventually decide that he isn’t too bad, that he could be much worse.

And really, Phinks will take anything he can get – he loves you, so much so that it physically hurts, and the second that you show him that the feeling is returned, he’s holding you in his arms, pressing you against him so tightly that you’ll never escape.

[seedsofagony]

Haganezuka Hotaru A–Z (KnY)

Series: Kimetsu no Yaiba

Characters: Haganezuka Hotaru

Word Count: 1,821

Summary: How does Haganezuka Flirt? What's he like on the Phone? SFW answers from A to Z for @selfloving-shipper's Self Shipping Alphabet: fluff, occasionally suggestive, x reader, modern au, spoiler free

Notes: Forever and unapologetically imagining secondary and tertiary characters ♥ I tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible because everyone should be able to enjoy our hot-headed, not-so-little firefly.

Image Credit: Wtrsnvc

A - Activity what’s something they enjoy doing together?

Haganezuka doesn't really like crowds. He'd much rather spend quiet time alone with you where he can take off his figurative mask. He won't talk much (unless you ask him about work), but he'll enjoy just listening to you chatter away or the moment when your head starts to droop and you lean on him to doze.

B - Bashful what’s something one finds embarrassing about themselves but the other finds adorable?

As the poster boy for the socially inept, Haganezuka is embarrassed by pretty much everything you do—which makes teasing him that much more fun. You'll rib him gently in public and mercilessly at home just to bring out that blush in his cheeks, but there's a limit to how much he'll take before he makes you make good on your word.

C - Calm how do they calm the other down?

The man has no chill, so if you're upset, he's upset. Unfortunately, that also means that you're usually the one doing the calming down—which you do by pushing him into bed, straddling him, then tickling the life out of him.

D - Danger how do they react to finding out the other person is in trouble?

If someone is messing with you—your boss, some rando, doesn't matter—Haganezuka isn't afraid to do anything short of murder, and even that isn't off the table. But if it's something like being stranded with a flat tire, he'll come right away, push up his sleeves, bare those burly arms, and get to work changing it for you.

E - Encourage how do they encourage each other?

Haganezuka believes in you—totally, fully, and without reservation—and he shows it through acts of service. Looming deadline? Your coffee cup will never run dry. Big interview? He scouts the parking situation ahead of time so you don't have to sweat the small stuff. He'll also give you space to focus, but know that he'll be just around the corner, ready to get you whatever you need.

F - Flirt do they flirt? If so how do they flirt?

As someone with almost no game, Haganezuka doesn't really know how to flirt. Playful banter is beyond him, and most of his "sweet nothings" are completely serious and intense. But, sometimes, he'll say something that can be construed as EXXXTREMELY suggestive—it's always completely unwitting and he has no idea why you're looking at him like that.

G - Greetings what was their first meeting like?

The first time you met, he couldn't take his eyes off you—which actually means he was staring at you with intense RBF. He doesn't really remember it that way, though. For him, it was as if nobody else even existed. Sound was muffled, the light was diffuse. It was a canon event.

H - Hungry does one of them cook? What do they do for dinner?

Haganezuka's hyperfixation is just way too strong—when he actually remembers to eat, he's a terrible cook and will just eat whatever's lying around. Actually, it's a little-known fact that the phrase "girl dinner" was invented for him.

I - Imagine what do the imagine their futures together like?

For him, your futures are a collection of everyday moments. The way the sun glints off your hair in the morning. The hustle and bustle as you get ready for the day. The soft brightening of your expression when you see him after work. It's all the little things that add up to make a life.

J - Jealousy do they get jealous easily? What do they do when jealous?

Haganezuka trusts you. He would never doubt you. It's just that he has zero faith in the rest of humanity, and he can't stand when other guys so much as look at you. If the clerk at the checkout is a little too cheerful when he says, "Have a nice day," Haganezuka levels him with a devastating glare and gathers up all your bags with one well-muscled arm just to prove a point: Step off or else.

K - Kissing what is it like kissing them?

Despite having no game, Hagaganezuka is actually a natural when it comes to kissing. He tips your chin, looks into your eyes for a moment, then kisses you fully and deeply. The world seems to stop, and nothing and no one else exists. But if you give him a peck on the cheek? Insta-blush.

L - Love when did they realize they were in love?

They say love at first sight doesn't exist, but it does for Haganezuka. He'd barely even been "in like" before he met you, so when he saw you from across the way, he just knew you were the one.

M - Memories what is one of their favorite memories together?

The day he moved in (because there was no way you were moving into his neglected bachelor pad), you hung a windchime together. He steadied you by the waist as you stood on the ladder. He helped you down, and you slipped your arm around him as you admired your work. The chimes rang together softly, and he felt like he was home.

N - Nickname what are some names they like to call the other?

You're the only person in the world who can call him "Hotaru," but even though you've been together forever, he still stumbles over your first name. The only time it rolls off his tongue is when you're alone together between the sheets.

O - Object what’s something they have that reminds them of the other?

Haganezuka doesn't really like distractions at work, so his desk is pretty spartan. But there is one thing that he always keeps in sight—a fuzzy pompom dango keychain that you gave him when you first got together. It's ridiculous. Each dango has a little smiling face. If anyone asks him about it, he'll tell them, in no uncertain terms, that it's none of their damn business, and when they're gone, he'll bop each dango, one by one, and smile.

P - Phone how often do they talk to each other on the phone or other means of communication?

Haganezuka doesn't really like to talk on the phone, so you won't call him unless it's an emergency. He will text you, though—as long as he isn't working. After a long day, he unlocks his phone to 100 unread messages. He leaves most people on read, but he'll always text you back. It might just be 👍 but you know he cares! He's also the king of autocorrect—ducking Kamado.

Q - Quiver what’s something they do that makes the other flustered?

He hardly knows what to do when you take the lead, whether it's flirting or making love. There's some silly, old-fashioned part of him that thinks, as a man, he should always be the one to initiate. Not that he doesn't enjoy it, though. When his flustered blush fades, it's obvious he enjoys it A LOT.

R - Routine what’s something they do together like clockwork?

You could set your watch to Haganezuka's routine. Every morning, he gets up early, works out, and goes to work. The only thing you can't count on is when he'll be home, but even that's predictable. No matter how late he comes home, though, you always take time to wind down together and talk to each other about your days.

S - Selfies do they like taking pictures together? Do they keep pictures of the other?

Haganezuka really hates having his picture taken and will do anything to avoid it. He also feels awkward taking pictures of you, but he will sometimes snap one when you're not looking. His gallery is mostly selfies you sent to him and 8,000 pictures of his works in progress, plus a ton of totally random screencaps that he will never look at again.

T - Touchy do they like PDA? How do they like to cuddle?

Doing anything more than holding hands in public makes him go beet-red. Even getting to that point was a struggle—you had to graduate from walking next to him to holding the cuff of his sleeve before you could finally entwine your fingers with his. Once you got to that point, though, he wasn't about to let go.

U - Unaccustomed what’s something they had to get used to once they got together?

Haganezuka is an awkward guy and everything about you flusters him—your pretty smile, your hair, that cute outfit you're wearing, the scent of your perfume. You drive him crazy, and he can still hardly believe you're his.

V - Vanished what would they do if the other vanished one day?

If you suddenly vanished, Haganezuka wouldn't know how to go on. He would give up everything to look for you, no matter how long it took. But if HE disappeared… you'd know he just lost track of time and was inadvertently pulling an all-nighter at work.

W - Walk where do they like going together?

There's a nearby park that you love to visit—ambling along the limestone paths, pausing to watch the stream tumble beneath the Japanese-style bridge. But most of all, you love strolling through the tunnel of wisteria trees and stealing a kiss under the curtain of their fragrant purple blossoms.

X - X-ray how do they help the other if they’re sick or tired?

Haganezuka will call off work to take care of you. He'll bring you medicine and a cool drink, and press his forehead to yours to check your fever. Then, he'll look at you, earnest as ever, and tell you he heard—and clearly believes—that if you kiss someone who's sick, you can take their cold away… When he inevitably catches what you have, however, he won't take such good care of himself. He'll wear himself out, refusing to take time off, never taking a break—which means, at some point, he'll collapse and you'll finally be able to return the favor by taking care of him.

Y - Yes who would propose? What would the proposal be like?

You know it would hurt his pride too much if you proposed, but he is definitely taking his time. It's not that he doesn't want to get married. It's just that it's MARRIED. Like, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, and all that. Just the thought of spending the rest of his life with you—it's almost too much to imagine. When he finally does pop the question, it will be with fierce determination and an adorably bright red blush.

Z - Zzz how do they sleep together?

Haganezuka is the big spoon to your little spoon, and he'll stay that way all night, hugging you protectively against his chest. If you try to get up before him (which almost never happens), you'll have a hard time extricating yourself. Every time you loosen his arms just a little, he tightens his grip, pulling you back to bed in his sleep. At least, you're pretty sure he's still asleep…

[roohuh]

Obliviate

Ominis x Slytherin MC

Summary: Finally back from summer vacation you eagerly start your 7th year at Hogwarts only to find out you have forgotten someone important! Ominis!

Warnings: none besides a little angst

Find the series here Obliviate

Sitting in the usual spot in the great hall you listen to the buzz of everyone greeting each other after their summer holiday. This being your last year at Hogwarts you are determined to enjoy every moment of it especially since you started late and your first year attending Hogwarts was anything but normal. Hearing a familiar voice from behind you leap up with an excited’

“Sebastian!” You throw your arms around his neck. “I have so much to tell you! Oh how you grew over the summer I did not think you could get any taller and here you are!” You go on animatedly until you notice his equally tall companion standing beside him. Meeting the pale blue eyes with curiosity you inquire,

“Hello? I do not believe we have met before.” You feel somewhat bashful at the stunning figure before you and blush as you address him. Sebastian laughs

“What do you mean you haven't met Ominis? You spent the entire last year snogging the fellow.” Ominis takes your hand giving it a soft kiss,

“I missed you.” He murmurs leaning close to your ear. Surprised you yank your hand away and step back from the brash stranger.

“I’m sorry but I do not know you sir.” You say to the person standing before you, feeling a panic rising in your chest. Ominis starts to feel the same alarm as he stands open-mouthed unsure of what is happening.

“Are you feeling alright? Y/n?” Poppy who overheard the conversation decides to interject. Releaf floods you as you turn to Poppy; she could back you up.

“I am, I think? Although these two seem convinced I know him.” You say gesturing to a very worried Ominis. Poopy who is now mirroring the worry across her own face asks,

“And you are saying you do not know who Ominis is?” Your cheeks flush with embarrassment and frustration.

“Should I?” You snap, throwing your hands in the air.

“Yes,” Ominis utters a very soft, shaky reply. You turn back to him staring hard trying to remember but every time you think about him your head feels fuzzy.

“Well I can’t. Who is he?” You insist feeling frantic frustration.

“We have been seeing each other since the end of our fifth year.” Ominis tries his best to sound convincing taking a step towards you which you retreat from giving him a distrustful gaze.

“Obliviation?” Sebastian suggests hands on his hips. You bite your bottom lip eyes never leaving the stranger. While Ominis sinks onto the bench next to where you had been sitting.

“But who would do such a thing?” You ask.

“I know who.” Countenance dark Ominis says fists tightening.

“Is there a cure for this?” Poppy asks, poking the side of your head.

“I’m not sure, but I do know where to look!” Sebastian says with a devious grin always up for a venture into the restricted section; finding the whole situation comical. Professor Black clears his throat from the podium and you all take your seats Poppy retreating to the Hufflepuff table. You stare at the mysterious figure before you. Snogging him all last year. You think to yourself feeling strangely about the idea of being involved with someone but having no recollection of how you even met the person. You try to imagine what it would be like to kiss him having a hard time imagining it. For as far as your memory goes you have never kissed anyone let alone this hauntingly handsome set of lips. As you admire his shoulders you see them tremble ever so slightly.

“Ominis.” You whisper trying not to get caught interrupting the speech. He turns to you and you can see his efforts to hold back the overwhelming emotions biting at his eyes. You place a tentative hand on his,

“I am sorry” you pause trying to formulate a sentence “I do not remember, but it is alright we will get it all figured out soon I am sure.” You whisper then give his hand a squeeze and add “don’t worry” Ominis smiles at you warmly replying in a low voice.

“I have always admired your courage. It was one of the many reasons I fell in love with you.” The unexpected compliment from this stranger causes you to tense up butterflies filling your stomach.

Once the feast begins you start to relax. Although you can not remember him, Ominis sitting next to you does feel right. He smiles passing you a cream filled pastry.

“Your favorite.” He says placing in front of you. You nod reflexively staring at Ominis. I wonder what els he must know about me. You muse to yourself trying to not openly gawk at the Slytherin. Sebastian begins to loudly laugh grabbing Ominis’ shoulder

“Oh Ominis if only you could see this! Leander is trying to grow a mustache! Oh it’s horrible!” The freckled boy wipes tears from his eyes leaning hard on his friend's shoulder.

“Why can’t Ominis see?” You ask, puzzled looking at Sebastian.

“Oh, because he’s blind of course! Couldn’t you tell by his eyes?” Sebastian scoffed at you. Feeling the blood rush your cheeks you look at the clouded blue eyes.

“That makes sense.” You awkwardly mumble.

“Don’t be an ass Sebastian.” Ominis snapped. Sebastian rolls his eyes and apologizes. “Sorry”

“Oh it’s fine! I probably should have guessed myself. I'm sure it’s not a topic you are overly fond of.” You backpedal not use to seeing Sebastian take criticism from anyone.

“Oh I don’t mind talking about it! I am a more capable wizard blind than Sebastian is with his sight.” He winks at you with this assertion and you feel your chest tighten. Wanting to believe this tall handsome seventh year but it all feeling so strange.

“Well I’m done eating.” Sebastian eventually says pushing his plate away from himself letting out a satisfied sigh patting his stomach he adds“Nothing like a good Hogwarts feast!”

“Undercroft?” Ominis asks

“He knows about the undercroft?” You almost choke on your pumpkin juice in shock. Ominis lets out a short laugh before he replies as all of the private moments you had shared down there comes to mind.

“Yes, I know about the undercroft”

[twistmusings]

Hi!! :) Could I please request the vice dorm leaders and what gets them flustered? I was thinking in a fluffy way, but I wouldn't mind if it took a more nsfw direction too lmao ;) Hope you're having a great day!!! :)

Thank you! I hope you're having a lovely day as well!

Vice Dorm Leaders - What gets them flustered?

CW: SFW, Super niche headcanons for Jade that are ALL FOR ME because I think they're cute (lol), Rook is implied to have a crush on Neige (but like a celebrity crush). Mostly fluff so nothing super intense here!

Trey Clover

Trey doesn't get flustered often, but he's not unshakable either.

He gets flustered when he's being praised-- not so much when it's a passing compliment, but when several people are complimenting him at once, he will get a bit red in the cheeks.

He gets flustered when he has to dress up. Especially if he feels as though he's overdressed. He is the sort of person who isn't a huge fan of drawing attention to himself, so he always feels like he looks tall, lanky, and awkward in formal suits, or even fancy clothes like the ceremonial robes. It's not so bad if he's surrounded by other people in the robes, but if he's being honored for something he would be quite happy to just sink into the floor.

Similarly, he gets super embarrassed when he has to put on costumes. He would often take his younger siblings trick or treating when he was still living at home, and he would always want to wear a mask because he would turn bright red if he got caught in costume by someone he knew. Unfortunately for him, his parents really didn't often let him wear a mask for the full night because he would act as an additional chaperone for his siblings, and he wasn't really able to avoid a costume lest he disappoint said siblings, so...

Jade Leech

Jade also doesn't fluster easily. In fact, he's downright difficult to fluster in any meaningful capacity. However, and this is entirely conjecture because it's not really touched on at all in canon, I like to believe he was a lot more shakable as a middle schooler.

Hear me out... I think Jade and Floyd had braces. Do I really have any evidence for this other than the fact that Jade tends to smile with a closed mouth? No, absolutely not, but I'm sticking to my guns. I think Jade had braces and was shy about it, so he tends to keep his mouth closed more than Floyd does out of habit.

The other thing that embarrassed the hell out of him? When he first came on land and was learning how legs work, he ate shit a lot. There were many occasions where he "folded in half like a folding chair" as Floyd loves to put it. He hates it when his brother tells that story, and he gets a little flustered every time... And a strong, strong Cain Instinct.

He will tell you he's shy but that's pretty much a lie. He only really gets shy if someone is intensely examining him, and even then he finds it more unsettling than flustering.

Now, acts of physical affection? That's what will fluster him. He's used to casual touches from Floyd or Azul since they've grown up together, but to have someone else straighten his collar or give him a hug would be enough to give him the jitters. Unfortunately, he has an exceptionally good poker face, so even if he is flustered, most people probably wouldn't be able to tell.

Jamil Viper

Compliments are, quite literally, the fastest way to see Jamil get bashful. Of course he loves to hear praise about himself, and he often says it as a joke, but if he gets a heartfelt compliment he goes red in the face in an instant and has no idea how to respond. Kalim is unfortunately very honest about his feelings which means that he's very good at flustering the good Christ out of him when he tries.

Another thing that flusters him is having someone clock into the fact that he's a lot more talented than he usually shows. He hates having it pointed out, after all he's doing his best to be subtle, but if they notice and don't make a big deal of it or only mention it privately, he will get a little flustered. In a good way. It kind of feels nice to be known.

Flirt with him. That's not a joke-- he's very unused to having people flirt with him so he trips over himself really fast if someone hits on him.

Rook Hunt

Rook is a tough nut to crack. Staying calm is a huge part of being a successful hunter, so there's not a lot that someone could do that would break through that.

... Unless your name is Neige Leblache, in which case, everything you do that acknowledges him is going to fluster him. Rook has such a celebrity crush it's not funny.

If your name isn't Neige, though, the quickest way to fluster him is definitely to catch him off guard. It's hard as hell to do, but very rewarding, especially if you manage to catch him, the romantic, off guard with a pick up line. It helps to have a prop prepared, and if you want to see him swoon get him a bouquet. He finds the spontaneity romantic.

Lilia Vanrouge

If Rook is a tough nut, Lilia Vanrouge is solid stone. He's incredibly hard to fluster. Essentially take the level of calm and level-headedness that you get with Rook and crank the knob all the way up and then break it off. He's nearly unshakable simply because of all the lived experiences he has.

There are a couple of ways, though, so not all hope is lost!

The first is to court him. I don't mean hitting on him, and I don't even mean asking him out. I mean old-fashioned do their research, link arms with him, pen a letter and bring him flowers and jewelry type court. He was raised in an era where being courted and being chivalrous was very, very in fashion. He loves to be doted on, and that sort of dedication will both impress and fluster him.

The other way is more platonic, and that's to make him feel like he's family. Lilia highly values family, and it feels good to have a place surrounded by people that makes him feel like he belongs. He spent a lot of his youth at war and seeing the parts of humanity that most people would turn their heads away from. He sometimes feels like he is a monster, so having someone who can love him in spite of where he's been and what he's done means more to him than he can put into words. If they do something that makes him have that momentary realization that Oh, they love him unconditionally, it's going to fluster him. He'll get red in the face and might even get a little bit teary.

[spitefulwriters]

JJ Maybank x Kiara Carrera (1.5k) JJ doesn’t turn down a dare, not ever. Right?

JJ Maybank wasn’t a fan of games.

Not the kind you played at parties, anyway. Even as a kid, he found things like musical chairs and pass the parcel stupid. Who wanted to wait to watch someone else open a gift? Especially one their parents could afford anyway. And what was the point in doing all that running for a seat if he was gonna get in trouble when he fought for it in the end?

And when he got older and stronger and braver and stupider, he found that the novelty of truth or dare wore off pretty quickly too. JJ never was a fan of telling the truth. The truth tended to be quite boring, unless you knew the right questions to ask. So he always picked dare and that grew old too, because JJ never turned down a dare, never said no. He bore the scars and bruises and had the stories to tell after each one, boasting and bragging about jumping from the highest cliff until there weren’t any left for him to climb.

But then one night when the tide was out and the summer had gone on too long, had grown too thick and sticky, some kid he’d once known from Mrs Peterson’s chemistry class chugged a beer, threw the empty can at his feet and dared him to kiss Kiara Carrera.

Even if they hadn’t made that stupid rule back in middle school, JJ was pretty sure kissing one of your best friends was pretty risky business. So he looked to John B and Pope, watched as they both hid their grins behind their drinks and shrugged and JJ suddenly felt like his cheeks were hotter than the sun.

Sarah was by her boyfriend, sitting on the sand between his bent knees and she was grinning, she was gloating and she took way too much joy in telling him and the rest of the group, “you don’t back down from a dare, do you, JJ?”

JJ narrowed his eyes at her, baring his teeth in what was supposed to be a smile but the girl knew differently.

“You know the script, Cameron,” he tried to sound casual, he tried to sound unaffected, but his gaze was wandering and trying to find the head of dark curls he’d last seen at the shore line. “No pogue on pogue macking.”

“Didn’t take you for one to follow the rules,” she shot back, still beaming.

“You could always pass,” the other kid said, smug and smirking at the rest of his friends, already pushing out his chest at the idea of finally getting JJ Maybank to turn down a dare. “Pick truth, you know, the easy way out.”

So JJ downed his beer, cheap and probably stolen and warmed from the lingering sun, and he pushed off of the tree he’d been leaning on to a chorus of whistles and cheers. It was never easy to walk steadily in sand but he did his best to keep his head held high and his shoulders squared as he pressed past the rest of the crowd.

Drunk people, high people, dancing people and people he didn’t know. People from out of town, people from the wrong side of town, people who got too close and tried to steal his attention with bubblegum scented chapstick and the promise of something more behind the old fish shacks.

He didn’t let his eyes stray from the girl at the edge of the beach, bare feet in the shore. Kie had left her sandals and her bottle of beer near a rock and JJ already knew she was following the prints in the wet sand, tiny scuff marks that told her the cluster of baby turtles she’d been watching had finally made their way home.

“Any stragglers?” He called out to her when he was close enough.

Kiara’s head shot up at the familiar voice, the edge in her eyes that told JJ she’d been on guard quickly fading away at the sight of him. She smiled, shrugging, bashful as if she’d been caught doing something embarrassing.

“None that I can see,” she told him. Kie toed at the wet sand, waiting for the boy to stand by her side like she knew he would. “Which is good. Gotta make sure everyone takes their trash home with them though, I’m so sick of picking up beer caps. Do you know that eighty percent of—”

“You gonna kill my buzz with the rest of that sentence?” JJ interrupted knowingly. He said with a lazy smile, his usual charm and flirt and Kie knew by now not to take too much offence to it.

Still, she rolled her eyes but she didn’t continue, her shoulder knocking his as she let her gaze flicker over his face. He looked a little off, a little lost in thought with pink cheeks and guarded eyes.

There was no drink in his hand, no pre-rolled joint tucked behind an ear.

“What’re you doing down here?” The girl asked. “The keg's back that way.”

JJ snorted, squinting out to the sea before running a hand through his already messy hair. He could feel his heartbeat rattle his bones and he was sure his cheeks matched the colour of the water by now, the sky above too. A rosy, hazy pink-red, an almost scarlet at the horizon as the last of the light sunk into the sea.

“What? M’not allowed to come say hi?” JJ huffed, all faux dramatics and offence. “Real nice of you Kie.”

Kie didn’t answer, she just kept looking at him, brows raised. A sweep of the beach told her enough, the rest of her friends huddled around a pile of wind-worn logs with some kids she once knew from school. They were all staring, waiting, whispering and passing what looked like money into each other's palms.

“You have an audience,” she murmured, looking back out to the sea. The waves were turning cotton candy with the setting sun, frothy pink amongst the blue. “Are they expecting a show?”

JJ shrugged, lips downturned and his nonchalant act started to slip. Kie’s arm brushed against his, bare skin on bare skin and the wind carried the smell of sea salt and the girl’s sunscreen.

Coconut, peach and something else that reminded him of an afternoon spent on a surfboard.

“Nah,” he drawled. He wrinkled his nose, tried not to look at her for fear of giving everything away. His task, his act, his feelings. “Just another dare.”

Kiara gave a soft snort and looked back over her shoulder at the group. Sarah waved, a wiggle of her fingers that Kie returned with confusion. “What’s the dare, Jay?”

Silence. Heavy and warm like the summer and it lingered between them in the same way.

“Something stupid.”

Kie raised a brow. “Like, you might get hurt, stupid?”

JJ turned then, swallowing the nervous lump in his throat, swallowing the lie with it. “No,” he murmured. Kie found his gaze, smiling and confused, her brow crinkled. “Maybe,” the boy conceded.

“That’s only slightly concerning,” Kiara joked but she moved a little closer all the same, shoulder bumping JJ’s as the tide touched her toes. “What is it this time? Jumping off that cliff at Rixon’s? Stealing Shoupe’s lawn furniture?”

JJ laughed and shook his head, careful not to move even closer, because if he did, the back of his hand would touch the girls and then it might have not been able to hold his cool for much longer. He could feel Sarah’s eyes on the back of his head. “Nah, nothin’ like that, don’t worry.”

So Kie waited, expectant, the silence filled with the sound of the water and the muffled music that came from way back by the treeline, where the greenery met the sand, an old Bluetooth speaker that came from god knows where. She watched JJ while she stood, the slight breeze that only came out at night picking at strands of their hair. The boy turned golden in the last of the sun, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth and he worried at it, wondering what to say next.

“I feel— I feel like it’s one of those things, this dare,” JJ coughed, voice breaking a little with nervousness. “I feel like I should do it because I want to, y’know? Not because someone else told me I should.”

Kie wasn’t sure what to take from that, what to say. She wasn’t sure at all what kind of dare would elicit this type of reaction from JJ but the boy’s eyes were flitting across her features, searching for something she wasn’t sure he’d be able to find.

“It sounds like it’s something worth waiting on then,” she finally said. Kie licked at her lips, suddenly self conscious. She took note of how her friend watched the movement. “Like something you should do for yourself.”

And JJ couldn’t find it in himself to disagree, dare be damned. He’d take the loss, head still held high and shoulders squared as he made his way back across the sand to the group. He wouldn’t call it a defeat, not when Kiara was walking by his side, shoulder bumping his as she laughed at one of his bad jokes.

He’d wait. He’d waited long enough.

He could wait a little more.

[kaycode1999]

Monkey King X Reader pt.4 @mimimroawwww I hope you enjoy😘

I also want to thank @sandrastar1 and @m33persj33pers for some of the chapter ideas.

Once everything with the town of women is done the group makes their way to a small village where a particularly strong and excitable demon resides. After evacuating the villagers, the demon creates clone after clone and Monkey King and Y/N work together taking them down until-

“ This one’s mine!” Both Y/N and Wukong yell hitting the clone at the same time causing it to disappear in a puff of smoke, the two then crash into each other hard falling to the ground with Monkey King on top of her/him/them. The momentum ends up forcing their lips together, and both of their eyes widen in surprise. Y/N quickly pushes him off getting to her/his/their feet helping him up as well. Wukong looks frozen in shock and Y/N tries to snap her/his/their fingers and wave in front of him but he shows no response, “ Good grief.” Y/N groans rolling her/his/their eyes before running off towards the demon leaving Monkey King standing there. Y/N takes on the demon exchanging several blows before finally taking it down.

Y/N walks back toward Wukong who seems to have recovered from the shock watching her/him/them with a bashful expression as she/he/they head towards him. “ Sorry about that.” Wukong says rubbing the back of his neck nervously, Y/N chuckles waving off his apology. “ No worries, it was an accident. And it's not like it was the first time you kissed someone right?” Y/N says, the look of pure embarrassment that passes over Wukong’s face causes Y/N’s smile to falter as he avoids eye contact. “ Wait… was it?” Y/N asks, then it starts to make sense- Y/N remembered her/his/their mom explaining how Monkey King had basically been shunned until he became the Monkey King, and then of course he was sealed inside a mountain for 500 years.

“ Oh” Y/N says quietly “ I'm so sorry, I didn't know. I wasn't trying to make you feel bad about it.”, “ Please don't say anything to the others, they'll just make fun of me for it.” he says. “ I won't, I promise.” Y/N says, Wukong smiles and nods in understanding. The two then head to the outside of the village where the villagers as well as monk Sangzang, pigsy, and Sandy wait for the go-ahead to return to the village which they all do quickly and happily.

Once again the group stays with a family in the village who are all too happy to house them for saving the village. For hours after having dinner with the kind family, the group sits around talking and laughing. It's fairly late into the night before everyone goes to sleep, except for Wukong. While everyone else sleeps, Wukong can't help but look over to Y/N’s sleeping form and his mind starts replaying the kiss. His heart starts beating faster and his face heats up, he could almost feel her/his/their lips against his as the memory kept replaying in his mind. He then begins to notice a funny feeling in his stomach, something he’s never felt before. Then the words of one of the women from the village starts ringing in his ears, “ You’re in love with her/him/them?”

Is this what love feels like? Maybe I am in love with her/him/them. Maybe she was right

[ticklish-n-stuff]

HIII THERE!! coulddddd i please ask for a lee!tsukasa (project sekai) x ler!reader (totally not in love with this man) where ermmm sorry i’m thinking of this on the spot LMAO they’re like cuddling and reader starts messing with him and tickling him etc !!

i love ur writing btw 💗💗

Happy belated birthday, Tsukasa!

I know I'm like 2 days too late for his bday but shhshshh

I managed to get his bday card in jp so he deserves some celebratory tickles~

And glad you enjoy my writing ^^

___________________________________________

Tsukasa x gn!reader (romantic)

Lee: Tsukasa

Ler: Reader

Warnings: Tickles!

___________________________________________

After a long day of celebrating the world's future star's birthday with all his friends, it was time to unwind with his special someone. You and Tsukasa were all cuddled up in the Tenma living room. Saki was out with her girlfriends and parents weren't home, just the two of you enjoying each other's presence...

"Ah, today was so fun! But I think I'm beat for the night..." he let out a soft chuckle, throwing his arm along your shoulders and pulling you closer into him.

"I bet, you were running all over the place trying to keep up with everyone. But now I get to keep you all to myself...~" you sent him a flirtatious smirk, wrapping your arms around his waist. His cheeks turned slightly pink, the bold comment making him let out a bashful giggle.

"Oh yeah? So... have anything in mind you wanna do?~" he whispered teasingly into your ear.

"Hmm... I have some ideas~" as you spoke, your arms lightly squeezed around his waist, causing him to let out a startled gasp.

"Oh no no no! It looks like I've fallen for your trap!" he sighed dramatically, placing the back of his hand up to his forehead and crashing down across your lap. As if cupid himself struck him right in the heart.

You rolled your eyes at his playful antics while tenderly running your fingers along his hair. "Someone seems a bit excited~" you teased him, causing his cheeks to grow darker in embarrassment.

"W-well... y'know I can't resist your birthday tickles...~" he spoke looking like a shy schoolboy in front of his crush. His gaze staring at anything else besides your own and fumbling with his fingers.

"Aww, does my cute, little star want his birthday tickles already?~" you cooed down at him. Tsukasa's face turned all red as he started giggling from the teasing alone. He hid his face behind his hands and drummed his feet against the couch from how giddy he felt.

The blonde let out a cute, little whine and a shy nod. Feeling too embarrassed to properly respond.

"Hehe, anything for you cutie~" you placed a sweet kiss along his hands as your fingers started to gently roam along his belly. The reaction was instant as Tsukasa squeaked and started rolling around your lap.

"W-waHAhait! I-I wahahasn't reheheady...!" he tried to protest, but his constant giggles just made him look even cuter. Which just made you want to tease him more...~

"But sweetie, you asked for this. Weren't you just saying how much you just love it when I go coochi coochi coo~".

Tsukasa squealed in ticklish glee from the teasing. He brought his arms down to clutch at his torso, revealing the toothy grin on his face. "Gaaah! Hahaha! S-shut uhuhup!!" he protested, although we all knew he loved the teasing as much as the tickles themselves. Your fingers ran up and down his sides and all over his belly, occassionally poking at his navel to make him squeak in surprise. All his reactions were so precious.

Even if he was wriggling around like a maniac, the genuine look of joy in his face over something so innocent was enough to make your own heart feel warm. His infectious laughter always managed to crack a smile on your face.

Once he started hiccuping through his hysterics, you slowed your fingers to a stop, opting to soothinly rub his stomach. "Is that better, superstar?" you asked with a soft look on your face, making Tsukasa feel like mush. He truly loved these moments, and so did you.

"Y-yeah hehe... that was fun~" he admitted with a bright smile plastered on his face. He was a bit out of breath and still slightly giggly so you kept comforting him a while longer until he fully calmed down.

He sat back up, snuggling close to you "Best present ever~" you both chuckled as you spent the rest of the night cuddled in each other's arms.

___________________________________________

I feel like I made this very self indulgent akdhskfhskjd

[cosmicgrapevine]

"You can see now why I don't tell 'em shit. Keith's a roid-raging jock dipshit, and my dad's got the imagination of a potato and would think it's all Satanism anyhow. 'Exciting' for him is like, golfing with his boss. If the Lost Kids hadn't scouted me, I'd be...I dunno. Nothing good."

"And your mom? If you don't..."

"Nah, it's fine. It's been five years. I'd like to say a Mire got her, and I've been, y'know, training for years to take revenge. But nope, just regular old shitty cancer. If she was still here, I'd...I'd tell her everything. She'd get it. Even if you hate your mom, at least she's..."

Tabby raised an eyebrow. "At least she's what?"

"Just, that's crazy, right? The dude who bashed her up in the '70s is the same guy we're fighting now? What if she was a Warden too, and that's why she got hit?"

"Trust me, no goddamn way," Tabby said. "I wish she was like your dad. Every time I talk to her, she's practically begging me to quit, you're too weak, you can't handle it, you know I'm right...she doesn't control my life anymore and she's so mad about it."

"Alright, shit," Kenny said. "Grass is always greener, I guess." He whistled. "Damn, a mobbed-up Fullmire. Wonder if Ryan knows anything."

"Ryan? From school?"

"Yeah, his dad's firm did plea deals for a bunch of old mob guys who 'retired' down here. I'm pretty sure one of them is Ryan's steroid hookup. Keith buys from him; I wasn't kidding about the roid rage. One time Keith couldn't pay and Ryan came over here and was freaking out. Like someone was gonna come after him."

Tabby sat up straight, stammering as a mental lightbulb clicked on. "D-dude, go get Jevon. I just figured something out."

Jevon was summoned from upstairs. Justin was not, but kept his face pressed to the back window anyway, in hopes of hearing something. "'Kay, so last Friday, Mel went out with Jordy, and they went to Scooter's. It was Ryan's idea, and he went with. Didn't even do any rides or anything. And that's where they found that photo." She paused, letting it sink in. "The storage place was a setup. Scooter's is their real base. Think about it. All those tents and trailers to hide stuff in, employees come and go all the time..."

Jevon nodded. "Think you're onto something," he said. "Alright. We'll sit on this until Mr. C and the rest get back from Equinox, then launch an assault."

"That's a week from now," Tabby said. "C'mon, the four of us, we can take him."

"Yeah, that's insane," Kenny said.

"You think so?" Jevon said. "Show me what you got."

Tabby unhooked her feather. Energy crackled around her as it grew. She tried to stay positive, and feed those emotions into the feather. But it was hard. It had been hard ever since the storage place. There was some kind of mental block. She couldn't imagine what. She had every reason to want to get better, to want to catch this bastard. But today the feather didn't believe her. With a cracking sound, it stopped growing and returned to normal.

"You see? You're not ready for combat. And that's fine," Jevon said to her embarrassed sulking. "No one's expecting you to be. But if you try this on your own, I will tell the higher-ups. And if you think you're in the doghouse now?"

"You're gonna tell? What is this, kindergarten? Anyway, I won't be alone: we've got a Markstepper too." She patted Lynd's leg and smiled.

He didn't return it. "They're right. This is a bad idea. The Sumacs are a powerful clan, and we still don't know their true intentions."

"Jesus, you too? How come I've got more balls than all three of you put together? How many people are gonna die while we sit on our asses, huh?"

"That's not why you wanna do this," Kenny said. "You wanna show off. You wanna be the star. I get it. I was like that when I joined."

"But then," said Jevon, with infuriating calm, "We learn that we check the Wards, we keep the peace, and we don't go charging into Markstepper turf--mob-backed Markstepper turf--just because we wanna be heroes. Now, you didn't get that training, 'cause you're special," he sneered. "So learn it now."

You're not some hero, you little shit! Rita's words came back to her. She kept her stare intense and her jaw tight.

"Wait, it's not even about that. This is about your mom," Kenny said. "You wanna get revenge?"

"Fuck revenge, she doesn't deserve revenge! Maybe I'll just tell him to finish what he started! I can get him to fuck up your brother, too, because you're apparently too much of a pussy to do it yourself."

The backyard was quiet, the pool filter bubbling away. "Come on, Tabby..." Lynd groaned. Kenny half smiled at her. "Actually, I think Keith had it right this time," he said. "'Who asked you, bitch?'"

[thinkanamelater]

Efficient Business (JS&MN - Childermass/Norrell fic)

Sometimes, not often, Norrell has certain needs. Childermass is very practical about it

Rated M. PWP (except with little porn), Trans Childermass, Vague mentions of the Raven King

Also on A03!

Norrell was considering if it had been, after all, a good idea to do this in Childermass' room, instead of the comfort of his own room. Surprisingly enough, he wasn't second-guessing if it was a good idea to do this at all.

And the reason was, simply, he was horny. It happened. Not often, but his body had certain needs, Norrell had discovered, and it was best to deal with them swiftly. Of course, most of the time he'd deal with it himself; a few quick tugs as he thought about getting back to his books without any disruption. It usually did the trick. Usually.

The very few times it didn't feel enough, Norrell would get (well, Childermass would get for him) a man that provided the adequate services, and then it was over and everyone was content.

It was simple, really, which made it all the more frustrating that this particular night was raining like there was no tomorrow, and no one in their right mind would come over for a quick job. (And if someone out of their mind was willing, Norrell didn't want them.)

Seeing how upset his master was, Childermass had dryly suggested that he could take care of it personally.

Norrell had hesitated, due to the intimate nature of his issue, but then he reconsidered: Nothing was dearer to Norrell than his library, and Childermass had free access to it, he thought. What could be more intimate than that?

And so, alone in Childermass' small room, he methodically took off his clothes, put on his nightgown, and knocked on the door to let Childermass know he could enter.

“How should we do this?” Childermass approached the bed, where Norrell was already laying on his back.

“I've already told you” Norrell, who had not told him, protested “You will use your…” Norrell gesticulated vaguely, taking a long pause, his expression getting more and more frantic as he tried to find the correct words that he'd be able to pronounce “Private parts” he decided on, and carried on bravely “And… and take it to my… well…”

Childermass raised his hand, and Norrell got quiet.

“Sir, if you don't mind the interruption.” There was a peculiar gleam in his eyes “If it's a penis what you're describing, we will need another course of action. I don't have one”

Norrell tilted his head, taking in this new information.

“Why not?”

Childermass shrugged. It was hard to tell, but something about the situation seemed to amuse him.

“I was born without one.”

“Oh.”

Norrell didn't even consider that someone could be born without a penis. Of course, it wasn't something he thought about often, since such information didn't provide any value to him. Except now. Right now, it was upsetting his plans, and he didn't like it. He sat up and crossed his arms

“Well, and why wasn't I informed? The evening is ruined now” He pouted.

Childermass didn't even flinch at this reproach, and spoke in his unaffected voice.

“If what you wish is to have something up your-” 

Norrell cleared his throat, indignant and embarrassed.

“My apologies.” Childermass continued, not looking apologetic in the slightest “If you wish to have something inserted in you, then that might be arranged.” Norrell looked at him with curiosity “I have fingers, for starters” Childermass wiggled them as a demonstration.

Norrell looked away, turning red. For some reason, the thought of Childermass utilizing his fingers for this purpose made him feel more bashful than the use of his hypothetical penis did. Probably because so often he saw Childermass using his hands for so many other things. Clear the table. Write letters. Grab books… oh no, his books!

There was another thing that bothered him, though.

“But… what about you?” Norrell looked back at him and whispered, in an unusual display of selflessness.

“What about me?”

“Well, you won't feel anything. I thought that was part of it”

Childermass seemed taken by surprise. It took him a moment to recover his composture.

“I mean, yes, it is part of it, I guess.” He made a pause, softened his voice as much as he could (which wasn't very soft) “Why don't you do the penetration, sir?”

“Huh- me? No, no, I can't do that. Can I?”

Childermass shrugged again.

“I don't see why not. It's almost the same as your original idea, only with the roles reversed. It can feel good for both of us.”

But Norrell wasn't entirely convinced by his argument. He chewed on his lower lip, and then he said in a small voice.

“But I will have to do so much work then. I didn't prepare for doing any sort of exercise”

Childermass choked out a laugh.

“Is that the only problem? You can lay down and let me take care of the rest, that doesn't have to change”

“Really?” Norrell's eyes lit up.

“Really. Alright then, shall we begin?”

“Sure…”

Childermass shuffled out of his breeches, and sneaked his hands under Norrell's nightclothes. Before he could reach between his legs, Norrell let out a little gasp.

“What is it?” Asked Childermass, stopping completely.

“Have you done this before, Childermass?” There was anxiety in his voice.

“I have. Why?”

“Do you wash your hands afterwards? Before touching my books?”

Childermass restrained the urge to roll his eyes.

“Of course I wash my hands, sir. I know how to do my job. And I know how to do this. May I proceed?”

Norrell nodded, resting his head on the pillow.

Childermass worked until he was fully erect, climbed on top of him, and it went pretty straightforward from there.

Norrell didn't know why he was surprised that his man of business was so… efficient. That's why he went to him, after all. But it didn't make the experience less impressive: the impossibly warm body enveloping him, as Childermass settled on a relentless pace, supported on his strong legs.

Norrell opened his eyes, unsure of when he had closed them, and was met with the vision of wild long black hair. His mind provided him with the image of a starry sky reflecting on a cold steel crown, and Norrell let out a choked moan, reaching his peak without noticing the buildup.

Childermass ceased his movements, and after a moment he got up from Norrell's lap with a wet sound.

"That was satisfactory" Norrell gasped.

"I'd say" Childermass agreed, sounding out of breath for the first time.

Awkwardly, Norrell stood up.

"Well. I better retire"

"Dressed like that?" Childermass raised an eyebrow, amused. Norrell looked down at his wrinkled nightshirt, and turned red.

"Of course not!" He growled, still not looking at Childermass. His body and brain were fizzling pleasantly, he had completely forgotten what he was wearing.

“Of course not” Childermass repeated. Buttoning up his own breeches, he walked up to Norrell and proceeded to dress him up.

Norrell found comfort in the familiar motions, and without further conversations left for his own chambers, ready for a peaceful night of sleep.

(Little did he know, he would receive the equally pleasant, if baffling, attention of another man with long black hair, on his dreams during the night)

[skekilla]

https://www.deviantart.com/skekilla/art/Runaway-Train-Act-III-Scene-2-936559738

After all that excitement, this was kind of deja vu. Did this train go on forever?

The light glancing through the train’s thick-paned windows had slowly changed from the pale, thin glow of the early morning to the bright yellow of sunrise to the strong and even daylight they were getting now. It really had been hours, and Lillian had only led them further and further all the while. Johnny’d tried to count how many cars they went through, but he just couldn’t. Even with walking on only one leg, he’d gotten too tired to think about that. Poor Sally, Orla, and Curtis, too—they’d been holding him up, taking turns being his other leg, this whole time as they trudged on from car to car to car to car. He was grateful—very grateful—but perhaps not quite as apologetic as he would have been a couple days ago. He was still bashful a good deal, of course, but… not so ashamed, maybe. They were his friends now, after all, not strangers. Besides, he was as worth it as any of the rest of them. That new idea was enough to keep his spirits up, just a little, as they went along.

Suddenly, at the end of what must’ve been the five-hundredth or so car, Lillian came to a stop. Johnny’s wide eyes darted around. Everything was as ordinary as ever. Though they’d just gone through all kinds of cars—sleeping cars, bars, casinos, dining rooms, ballrooms, libraries, anything you could think of—this one was just like any other. It made his nerves buzz with growing anxiety, slowly dawning like the sun just had. Why’re we stopped?

A grave silence passed before the rabbit girl took in a breath. She turned around slowly. Gosh, did those dark voids of hers look deadly serious. The suspense didn’t help keep Johnny’s heart from turning cold with dread. “Folks,” she began darkly. Another long pause punctuated her words. Then, finally, when the tension was at the point it seemed like the whole room was going to snap like a twig, she said, “do you think I look alright? How’s my hair? Ugh, I should tuck in my shirt more.”

“Ridiculous!” Curtis snapped, all fear having fallen away. “You’re trying to gussy yourself up? Now?”

“Ugh, well you’d do the same if you were about to see someone you were trying to impress a bit!” Lillian said. Johnny could’ve sworn the inside of her velvety ears went a little more pink than they were a second ago. It’d make sense anyway; she was practically stomping in embarrassment.

Curtis rolled his eyes with a scoff. All the others seemed similarly unimpressed or perplexed. “Wait, we were trying to impress someone?” little Anne asked. “I thought we were trying to help our friend, Mr Johnny!” Johnny himself wasn’t sure at this point. He was getting nervous about this, more and more so by the minute. Even though any momentary dread had been broken, his doubts about this whole thing were only doubled now. What was Lillian’s game here? Gosh… I’m not sure this is gonna work out so good…

A sigh left Ed. In some sort of resolute way, he straightened up and tipped his hat down as he spoke: “Well, we ought to stop dawdling if you’re all so bent on getting anywhere. Fix yourselves up, hm?” That wry smile of his twisted around till his face was lined like worn wood.

Lillian didn’t seem to appreciate his humour. She huffed and crossed her arms. “Yeah? And why do you care so much to help these mortals now, anyway? What happened to hunting Death, huh? Why don’t you just kill some of them already and get him to come?”

“It’s none of your business, is it?” he said bluntly. “Besides, killing things in front of kids isn’t generally good for them, you know.” Under the grave digger’s cold fog, Johnny knew what he meant by what he’d said: it was the kids after all. Keeping them safe or gratitude for their innocent idolization or… something else.

Lillian didn’t care, anyway. With one of her loud groans, she turned back around to face the door. Only a couple minor tweaks to her appearance—fixing up her hair, tugging at her skirt—and a deep breath were her hesitation. Then, finally, she opened the door and stepped through. The kids and Ed followed next, leaving the four other passengers behind. They all looked between each other. Uncertainty was in all of their faces, but something else was there too: resolution. They were going to do this. For each other. For their own lives. They had to do it together. Without any more delay, they all walked in through the threshold.

Somehow, this car was the most curious Johnny had seen yet. It wasn’t bizarre and impossible, like the forest or the ocean, nor unusual or ornate, like the cinema or the dining hall. No, the oddity of this car was such that it was unlike any other they’d been through yet: there were signs of life here. Someone lived in this car. The whole thing was torn up and converted into a sort of workshop; seats were flipped over and turned into workbenches or shelves, bits and pieces of all kinds of strange contraptions were scattered around everywhere—there were even drawings and plans and outlines scrawled over the walls! Now this car was bizarre, impossible, unusual, and ornate, in it’ own way.

Everyone else was in similar awe. “Johnny, you’re from the future, aye?” Orla asked as she looked around the room. “Have you ever seen stuff like all this before?”

“Yes, have you?” Sally murmured. “It’s all pretty off-beat alright.” She turned her eyes to Johnny and then Curtis. “Have either of you seen something like this?”

Johnny could only shake his head no in wordless wonder. Curtis’ brows were furrowed together, perplexed. “Some of the colours are sort of like what the kids are wearing back home, but… this is different,” he said. “No, I’ve got nothing.”

Though both Ed and Anne seemed in a similar way to the rest of them, Salem was in a far different state. They were running around, looking at everything they could. Their eyes seemed to flood their square glasses with how wide they were. “Guys! Look at all this cool old stuff!” they were shouting. “This is, like, what all the big kids wore when I was little! Oooh, look!” They ran around, wild with glee. Suddenly though, they came to a stop at a certain workbench. When he glanced over to peek at what’d caught their eye, Johnny saw something strange: on the surface of the makeshift table sat a pair of rollerskates, coloured a pink so bright it hurt his eyes. Overexcited as ever, Salem reached out their small hands towards the skates. Reverence made their whole face practically glow. They held their breath as their fingertips just brushed the dyed leather.

“Hey! Back off the skates, putz!” Johnny jumped at the sudden command, even though it wasn’t meant for him. The voice that had ordered it was unfamiliar—harsh and energetic, with a certain twang to it. That unfamiliarity only made him more anxious. This person was surely the one who lived here. What if they were taken for intruders? Thieves even, given Salem’s grabby hands? Oh gosh, this is bad! Quick as a whip, Johnny whirled around to look for the source of the voice. His eyes soon found a figure towards the other end of the car. None of them had noticed them before, and honestly, Johnny wasn’t sure how they hadn’t. After all, their hair was the same bright pink as those skates; it was a wonder that they’d missed them with that kind of colour on their head. They got up from where they had been sitting, their hands finding their hips as they came over. Terror crept up on Johnny with each step they took. The stranger looked angry alright, and sure, that did scare the hell out of Johnny, but that wasn’t the reason for his fear. No, it wasn’t even close. There was something very wrong with this person. As they came into the light, Johnny saw their greyish skin, saw the gnashes and bandages all over them. He saw their eyes, lack-lustre and almost dull, though they blazed with feeling. He saw it all. This person was a corpse. They were a walking corpse.

Johnny’s heart went cold. He tried to say something, maybe to scream, but he couldn’t. His mouth only hung open, his jaw trembling. Oh my God. Oh my God. They’re… it’s… DEAD!!

Before anyone could do anything, Lillian twirled around over to the… thing, placing her hands on its shoulders and leaning in (much to the corpse’s perceived annoyance). “Hiii Babs,” she said, her tone somehow more sweet than even Sally or Orla’s had ever been. Over her shoulder, she turned back to the others, meeting their horrified faces. Her bone-white mask was eerily calm, given what its wearer had her arms wrapped around. “Everyone, this is BB. She’s who we’re here for.”

[thesunmeltedthegrayaway]

The Benevolent Bluebell

This is a request! If you would like to make a request take a look at (this post) for all of the characters I am currently writing for. 

Sorry if this is a bit short lol.

The Request is...

“The girl who thinks that you're an angel She'd pour you in her glass of wine Thirsty for the truth She'd stain her lips with you And the best thing you could do, oh, the best thing you could do Would be to love, love, love, love.”

Luna Li, Opal Angel

If someone told Dallas Winston that he would end up with someone as innocent as you he would’ve told them they were crazy. He went after women who were bold and forward. Women who were overtly flirtatious and weren’t bashful about whatever there intentions were when they were with him.

So how in the hell could he suddenly be so enthralled with somebody like you.

You were so... pure compared to the usual women he was with. You wore white and other demure colors, you acted with such a strong generosity that most people didn’t deserve to be treated with. Your voice and laugh sounded as though it was dipped in honey. And you wore so many flowers on your head  he was surprised bees didn’t attach themselves to you the second you walked outside.

But in all honesty, the best part about you was that you didn’t let his past decisions and reputation define your relationship with him. In essence, your were a burst of fresh air in his smoke filled world. He hated to admit it, but your naturally gentle personality rubbed off him a little. Now don’t get my wrong, he was still mostly tough in demeanor around others but he wasn’t like that with you.

~~~ You two had gone out to Bucks. Despite Dally’s insistence that it really isn’t the best idea for you to be there you wanted to go. Because as much as you knew Dally loved you, you knew he didn’t enjoy all of the things you liked. So, you wanted to go to an atmosphere that he liked and enjoyed. But the night ended going pretty... badly. It all had to do with one guy, who knew no boundaries and didn’t know how to take a hint. No matter how much you rejected him, he seemed to grow more and more aggressive with you.

Dallas being the protective man that he is, ended up... taking care of him. Which resulted in Dally getting bruised and bloody knuckles. The man on the other hand now had a pretty crooked nose. Now the two of you were walking back to your place in silence. You were lagging behind slightly so you could see how tense Dally looked. His hands were clenched into fist, his breath released itself into angry huffs. You could feel his anger radiating off of him.

You gingerly reached a hand out to him, grasping his forearm lightly. He turned around to look at you, his posture untensed the second he saw you. You leaned your head against his chest making him wrap his arms around you. His hand ran up and down on your back comfortingly. You closed your eyes now extremely relaxed in his hold.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled against him. You felt his hand pause in it’s movements making you look up at him.

“What are you sorry for?” He asked, his expression looked bewildered.

“I shouldn’t have tried to convince you to take me to Bucks. If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t have had to get into that fight back there.” You explained in a guilty tone.

“Hon, it is not your fault that some creep hit on you and wouldn’t leave you alone.”

“But-”

“I’m serious Y/N/N, you should be able to go anywhere without worrying about someone like that douche back there.”

“I know but still...” You grab his injured hand, looking down at it sadly. “You got hurt because of me.”

His injured hand held yours, his thumb ran across the back of your hand. 

“This is nothing doll... I’d would do anything for you. I don’t care how hurt I would get. Don’t feel bad, okay?”

You couldn’t help but smile shyly at him, your shyness made you struggle to look into his eyes. His gaze made it hard to speak to him.

His warm hands cupped your faces making your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Okay?”

You nodded smiling a bit wider than before now.

“There’s that gorgeous smile.” He spoke smoothly making you laugh bashfully. He pulled you in for a passionate kiss before saying. “Don’t even get me started on your laugh.” He began to kiss you again, your face felt like a heater.

You pulled apart, giggling before mumbling in an embarrassed tone. “Dallas...”

He smirked down at your flustered state. “C’mon...” He spun you around making you let out a surprised yelp. 

“Let’s go back to your place doll.”