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natashascheaffer45 · 2 years

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Brett hand x reader

Warnings: smut, oral receiving, sexual penetration; if any other let me know

*You just recently started working at cognito ink.* “I have an announcement.” Reagan shouted snapping you out of any thoughts you had. “Oh goodie” Myc sarcastically responded. Reagan sighed and began “since my dad took over.. he has decided that we need a two week break” Reagan lets out a groan as everyone cheers. You weren’t too worried, in fact you needed a break from the group. GG alone gave you a headache. You start planning in your head what you plan to do for break as everyone else leaves in a hurry.. typical. “Hey y/n” a familiar voice brings you back into reality. “Oh, Brett.. hi!” You say half joyfully. “What’s with the long face?” He says as his smile fades as well. “I just don’t know how to spend this break, no one I know right now is on good terms with me.” You say, referring mostly to your family. “Well, you know me..” his comment confused you at first and then you came to a realization that he wanted to help. Brett hesitates, “i-if you want, you can stay with me.. I don’t have anyone to hang out with either. Suddenly your chest felt hot. “What the hell” you think to yourself. You brush it off. “I guess I could use the company, not like I have anything better to do.” You say. Brett’s eyes lit up. “O-ok! Really didn’t think you’d want to.” He chuckled. You started out the door. “You’ve got my number Brett, let me know when you want me over.”

“The he’ll have you been?!” Your mothers voice piercing into you like the sharp smile she fakes in public. “Work.” You say dryly. “Oh come ooon, tell me where you workkk..” she was drunk, again. You started to tune her out until you heard a ding from your purse. “Hey whenever you wanna come over I have a room set up y/n” you could almost hear to tenderness of his voice. Tenderness? What the hell were you thinking. You brush it off as excitement to be away from the old hag taking your money in beer. “I’ll be there in 5.” You nearly sprint to the car, trying to be out as fast as possible. As you arrived you realized you hadn’t changed back into work attire. “It’s probably not a big deal” you think to yourself.

*this is the outfit*

Brett was waiting for you at the door. “Uh, hey” You say sheepishly. “Hey, sorry about the mess, I wasn’t expecting you to come as soon as I texted you” Brett says nervously. “Trust me it’s nothing.” You walk into a moderately clean house, expecting more of a mess. “I haven’t had a lot of people over so..” “really? I thought girls were coming over all the time?” “Why would you think that?” You paused. “Well.. I mean you’re quite attractive I just thou..” “you find me attractive?” Brett interrupted. Your face went red. “Why am I embarrassed?!” You think. “Sorry” Brett says. As he looks away you swear his face is red as a tomato. “He’s blushing..” Brett broke the silence. “I made dinner..” you walk into the kitchen surprised with a hot plate of spaghetti and meatballs. “Oh! T-thank you Brett.” You sit and start to eat. After a while you look over at the chef and notice that he’s staring at you blankly. He realizes you see his and turns away quickly apologizing. “Hey.. it’s ok I like the dinner” you laugh. Brett looks back at you in an odd way. You pause to speak but interrupted, “I-I think you’re attractive too..” you were taken by surprise. “Oh-“

“Gosh y/n I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say that, I mean I did mean it but I-“ “hey it’s ok Brett, I appreciate the compliment” you say comfortingly. He smiles, making you smile. You walk over and hug Brett. “You don’t have to feel awkward around me.” You say with a chuckle. Without warning your lips are locked. Brett softly held your face whilst kissing you. He pulled away, “shit, y/n I’m so sor-“ you pull Brett back into a kiss and he happily complies. You softly pull back “it’s ok.. I liked it.” Brett, astonished, looked at you with a pause. Suddenly you were lifted from the ground. “What are you doing?” You ask, laughing. Taking you to your room y/n. You blush uncontrollably and chuckled. You looked up to your knight in shining armor gazing upon you in adoration. “Your laugh is adorable..” you smiled and blushed before being plopped onto a bed. “Here’s your room m’lady. You chuckled again and Brett smiled. “I.. um, can I have another kiss?” Brett was taken aback. You paused for a moment, “forget it, it’s not impor” Brett kissed you passionately and pulled away. “I-“ he pushed you down lightly and crawls on top of you, kissing you again whilst cupping your face. “Woah..” “too much?” Brett asked nervously. “No, perfect..” “but if we’re doing this I want to be on top.” Brett nodded his head “anything you want y/n” Brett sits on the bed as you straddle him. “Fuck” he whispers. You take off you shirt, revealing the lingerie you’d been wearing.

*this is the piece*

“Holy shit” Brett says breathy. “Y-you can touch..” he jumps to fondle you, squeezing out some breathy moans. You work to undo his belt and pants as he starts to suckle your teet. “God fuck” you whimper. “This ok?” Brett asks. You nod in approval as you release his boner. “Holy shit.. he’s so big” you think to yourself. As Brett is lost in the moment, he bites down a bit, earning a loud moan. “Shit, I’m sorry y/n” “n-no it felt good.” Brett lays kisses down your neck as you grow increasingly wetter. You start to buck your hips on Brett’s thigh. “Hey, you ok?” You stop abruptly. “No no, it’s ok you can rub on me.” He sucks your neck as you start to slide on his thigh again. Brett is taken aback as you moan loudly. “Does.. that feel good?” He asks. “..yeah, it does.” You say embarrassed. Brett holds your hips, surprising you. “What are you-“ he lifts you and lowers your waist onto his. “Fuck!” “Does it hurt?” Brett asks in a panic. You take a moment to adjust to his size. “Ah- you can m-move” Brett slowly lifts your waist and put you down softly. You moan loudly and slump onto his chest. “It’s ok y/n, just let me take care of you.” You felt safe with him, like he could help you anywhere. “F-faster B-Brett” he speeds up, hitting your sweet spot. You whimper. “Y/n? Are you trying to tell me something?” He about fucked you dumb, the only words you could mutter were “r-right there.. please d-don’t stop.” He understood as he kept hitting right where you needed it most. You hugged him tightly as he thrusted still. “This is really doing something to you huh?” You whimper in response. You were close. Your walls tightened around Brett. “Shit, y/n are you?” You moaned so loud you were surprised the neighbors were still asleep. “Holy shit y/n are you ok?” You were trembling “k-keep going” you muttered. Brett followed the request and slowly helped you ride out your high. “done y/n?”

“Y-yeah..” you were stilled a bit dazed. Without realizing, you were being carried again. Before you knew what happened, you were snapped back with the flow of hot water in your skin. “Hope you don’t mind if I shower with you” you paused. “But.. you never finished.” You just now realized that Brett never came. He was still rock hard. “B-Brett” you said nervously. “Yes?” Before you could say anything, your tongue was on his tip.

“Y-y/n..” Brett shivered at your touch. Before you could process what to do next, you started bobbing your head like a mindless zombie. “S-stop y/n.. what if I” you pick up your pace as he releases down your throat. You swallow everything as Brett looks at you in amazement. “Let’s get dried off hun.”

I guess taking a break won’t be so bad after all..

#inside job #brett hand #inside job smut #smut x reader

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cyborg-franky · 3 years

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One Piece Character Wearing Lingerie For You Part 2

Part 2 The boys wearing sexy lingerie for you. Undercut is slightly perhaps N/SFW-ish images and defo horny writing . Art by @rosiinante headcannons by me!

Sanji - When you suggest it to the cook, he just grins at you. - “You assume I don’t always wear something under my clothes?” He said with a chuckle and untucked his dress shirt, showing you a little of the black lace. - “But if you want to see something a little spicier Swan, I can do that.” - Told to meet the chef late that night. - When you knocked on his door, told to come in you did just that. - You never expected Sanji to be posed on his bed like you were about to paint a picture of him. - The pink strappy number looked amazing on his skin. - The way Sanji looked you over, you must have looked stupid stood there with your mouth open before he nodded for you to join him. - He ran his fingertips over his body, each time he got to one of the straps he tugged at it and you watched how all the connecting ones dug into his flesh just a little. - You could tell the chef was feeling himself in this sexy number because the small pink panties weren’t enough to contain his cock. - His erection peeking over the lacy hem…

Law [preskip] - You always thought the man was kinkier than he seemed. - How he dressed in such normal clothes, the jeans and baggy sweater hid everything. - Seeing him now, sat on his chair dressed the way he was, well, it was a shock. - A very pleasant one at least. - “Too horny to put a thought together?” He chuckled, taunting you as you approached him when he beckoned you with one curled finger. - Black lace on tanned skin was intoxicating and driving you crazy. - You just wanted to run your hands all over him. - Law knew that’s exactly what was on your mind and beat you to it, running his own hands up and down his form, a wild smirk on his face. - You watched as inked hands went to his chest, tracing over his nipples, never breaking eye contact with you. - You couldn’t help yourself, you sat at his feet, hands running up his stocking-clad legs as he grinned down at you.

Corazon - He spat out the tea he had been drinking when you asked if he could wear something nice for you for your anniversary. - He wasn’t against it he was simply shocked. - He agreed, you even picked him something nice out. - He was self-conscious at first, his long, long legs completely exposed and showing off miles of scars. - You ran your hands up and down his legs, you kissed each scar as he sat on the bed with a blush on his face. - “They are part of you and just as beautiful.” You commented making your way up his legs, never missing a single scar, each getting a kiss. - Despite how embarrassed he seemed, his thick cock bulged against the sheer fabric of the panties and you glanced at him hungrily. - His nipples were stiff and pert from the cool air, the cutouts in the top part of the outfit doing nothing to help. “Your very handsome.” You commented as your hands found their way to his skirt, flipping the fabric up.

Sabo - He stared at the cards in his hand before the ones you’d laid down. The grin on your face spelt his doom. - “Another round?” He chuckled and saw you shake your head. - Sabo had been keen to get you into something embarrassing and was less than happy with how the tables had turned. - You were soon sat on his bed and waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. - “Come on, I at least picked a nice one and a matching hat” You called, getting bored, tapping your foot on the floor. - He peeked around the corner and saw you raise an eyebrow. - “Don’t laugh, I think it actually looks nice..” He mumbled. - “Just come on already.” - He stepped out and showed off his legs, you admired them, scars and all. - “You... wow... you do look good in that,” You said gawking at him. - The blue-suited him, the way it hugged his muscles was perfect. - He walked over to you and you could tell the compliment hand landed well. - His erection lifted the frilly skirt. - He was now grinning down at you as he stood over your lap, lifting said skirt and showing off his hard cock. - Oh, you both enjoyed this more than you thought…

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flanneryculp · 2 years

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cleo knight for the character bingo ?!

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT CLEO EARLIER TODAY!

Every time she appears is such a delight, and I think she has the best debut out of any Snicketverse character! telling dr flammarion off and making it so HES scared of HER?? even though he kidnapped her??? just *chef’s kiss*

Cleo has such great fashion sense, her style is very distinct with her black and white stripes and glasses and beret, it’s just so cool! I’ve been wondering if the pink accents in her outfits could represent her difference from her family? (she wears black, white, and pink, which contrasts with her families’ black and white thinking? something like that, i havent figured it out quite yet.)

I don’t think we can talk about Cleo without mentioning Jake, because wow, what a power couple! aside from being sooo cute, they bring out the best in one another. Cleo’s calm gentleness toward him and Jake’s admiration of her work so well. Both of them tend to be the people who look out for the rest of the associates the most, and their different personalities make the perfect blend. And from the way they stayed together despite Cleo’s parents objecting shows that they can get through hardships in a healthy way. They don’t mind giving each other space and aaaah,,,,,,, theyre SO good for each other!!!! I don’t often ship canon couples, but Jake/Cleo isn’t even a ship to me. It’s just a fact lol

Cleo and Moxie are another dynamic I love. Since Cleo met Moxie, she’s been looking out for her. ofc there was that whole Knife Thing, but the way she helped Moxie drink coffee in book three, kicked Stew in the shins when he tried to steal her notes, and just casually makes sure she’s okay all the time is so sweet. Especially since Moxie doesn’t really like to be doted on, the way Cleo doesn’t make it a big deal is v good. cleo saw moxie lying on the floor of the colophon clinic and said “is anyone gonna be an older sister figure to her?” and didnt wait for an answer.

The only catch with Cleo is just how cool she is! theres so much more I want to see of her!!

Cleo’s complicated relationship with her parents is v interesting. We don’t really get much info about them, but I would say Cleo’s parents liked her, but they didn’t get her. The way bought her everything she wanted but only called her Miss Knight? they were so strict about her not dating Jake that they had to hide their relationship from the entirety of town but then didn’t come back to Stain’d-by-the-Sea after learning she’d been kidnapped?

They liked the ambitious and fashionable chemist trying to save the town, but weren’t interested in her as a person. Cleo says she loved her parents, and maybe that’s true, but I believe she only liked a certain side of them. and thats well within her rights because her parents kind of suck lol.

Zada and Zora got closer, but judging by how they also called her Miss Knight, even when they’ve known her all their lives, and how they didn’t defy Mr. and Mrs. Knight to help Cleo, there was still some distance between them.

Since Mr. Knight was the one who decided to drain the sea in the first place, does Cleo feel responsible as his daughter to fix the town? Zada and Zora mention that Cleo likely inherited her chemistry abilities from her grandmother, who founded Ink Inc. Were they close? Why did her parents hire Dr Flammarion in the first place?

In my opinion, Cleo and Ellington’s relationship wasn’t explored enough considering how big a plot point it was in book two. I get it tho -- for story reasons it wouldn’t make sense for Ellington to have anyone other than Lemony. Personally, I see Cleo as who Ellington could have been if she had a reliable support system. Both of them are some of the most ambitious characters in all of Snicketverse, they’re both independent and distrustful of everyone except those they’re closest to, and they both feel responsible for others’ safety. (Ellington with her father and Cleo with the associates as a whole.)

The difference is Jake. All the associates, but especially him. Jake is always supporting Cleo and when he rescues her in book two, Cleo isn’t surprised. She knows she has someone who has her back, and meanwhile Ellington knows she’s on her own. So while Cleo works out plans with her friends when things get difficult, Ellington does whatever comes to mind, no matter the cost.

In book two, her invisible ink was made out to be something revolutionary, but after that it’s not brought up as much as I wish it would be. Lemony and the associates are saving the town from immediate danger, but ultimately she’s their last hope. Even if they defeat Hangfire, Stain’d-by-the-Sea will eventually become a ghost town if she doesn’t finish her formula. That’s a lot of pressure! I wish we got to see Cleo’s progress or the logistics of it. If it worked in book two but Flammarion messed it up, what does she still have to do? What did the Inhumane Society want with the invisible ink, anyway?

Something that I don’t see talked about very often is how impulsive Cleo gets in fast-paced situations. How she agreed to have Ellington cosplay her and go around town while seemingly asking very few questions of Ellington, the way Jake had to talk her out of jumping onto the train? I think the difference is kind of funny, how she’s usually so logical but anytime she has to come up with anything on the spot shes like “hmm this might work!! no guarantee we’ll survive but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. :)”

shes objectively one of the coolest Snicketverse characters. love her. <3333

#before i started writing this i was like 'hm i dont have too many thoughts about cleo' but ig i do! ty for this ask :D #cleo knight #atwq

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fantumbatcave · 2 years

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A Ramble: Trinity of Terror Tour Pt II

This is a recount of my experience and my own personal opinions. If you continue to read, you have accepted the incoherent ramblings of a fan.

The moment part two was announced, I quickly got tickets for my best friend and me. An early b-day gift for her! I got us regular floor tickets. I tried going all out for my outfit and my make-up… eh, too basic. I did my best to take photos and try to get on my tiptoes to see anything. I hate being short… Anyway! Here’s my ramble about the concert. Band appearances are in order:

We Came as Romans

I never got into them, but knew they were a big thing back in high school (I’m in my late twenties). I didn’t do any “homework” so I went in blind.They were a pretty cool band, I nodded along to the music. I thought the crowd would be all over them. I was wrong.

The crowd cheered and clapped along! To me, it gave more of a “we’re just being polite ‘cuz you’re the openers!” vibe. That’s normally my vibe. I was just really shocked it felt like everyone was in the same boat. I’m always out of the loop so who knows? Maybe they haven’t been in the scene for a while. The lead singer talked about a former bandmate of theirs that had passed away. Rest in Peace, Kyle!

Black Veil Brides

My second time seeing them live! I’ve been a fan of this band since their Knives and Pens video.So much love to Lonny, the current bassist! He did great! CC always kills it with the drums! Everyone was jumping and singing along! It always warms the inner teen in me to see my faves.

My first time hearing songs from The Phantom Tomorrow live. Coffin. They played Coffin!! I tried so hard to belt out the words cuz that’s one of my favorite songs of theirs!!! Having Andy tell us to scream and shout before playing Fallen Angels, gave me goosebumps! And of course, Knives and Pens will always get my heart.

I was surprised. Not much commentary from Andy. He did ask us if we were enjoying ourselves and thanked us for continuing to support them. And that we should give the middle finger to anyone who teases us for listening to them.

That made me think, “People are still getting picked on for that???”

Motionless In White

Another band that’s my second time seeing live and faves! They all looked great. Oh my fucking god, hearing them is always an eargasm! Hearing songs from STEOTW live? 15/10. It gave me shivers up my spine, and I mean that in a good way. Sign of Life, chef’s kiss! “If there’s a grave behind my eyes, then how do the dead find a sign of life?” When it came to Slaughterhouse… Chris instructed us to scream “Under God!” after he screamed “One Mutilation.” And we fuckin did!!!

Too bad most of the song was ruined for me and others by an attempted crowdsurf. I’ll get into that later.

Again, little commentary from Chris as well. Same as Andy. I’m wondering since it was four bands playing in one night that they were on a time crunch? It did start some time after 6:30.

Masterpiece, Another Life, and Eternally Yours? Always heartstring pullers. I was hoping to get a rose, but apparently we weren’t close enough… Oh well. There’s always next time, right?

Ice Nine Kills

This band I did go in somewhat blind. I listened to what was on the ToT Spotify playlist and… Wow. Where have they been all my life??? INK’s theme is Horrorwood. Their music is based on horror films and I swear to god, if you’re a big fan of those you need to give these guys a listen. Their two albums are The Silver Scream and The Silver Scream 2: Welcome to Horrorwood.

These guys really put on a show! I was not expecting heads getting chopped, a guy with a chainsaw… Like… I LIVE for the theatrics!!! Loved. Them. Unfortunately, we left after the first four songs cuz we wanted to beat the crowd to the merch table. We did come back tho, opting to watch from above. Got to see them play The Shower Scene, and acting out said shower scene from Psycho!

Apparently they played the longest set. But yea I highly recommend this band. So far my faves are Hip to Be Scared, The Shower Scene, and A Rainy Day.

Crowd Experience

I already kinda go into this in my ask post, but I’m gonna go longer here. Overall, I don’t like crowds. I don’t like being around people and too many gets me claustrophobic. But to see a band live, I endure it. Normally I get VIP cuz I’m short and would like to actually see! But couldn’t this time around.

I try not to judge a book by its cover. Keyword: try. There was this group of what I could describe frat douchebag guys who were already drinking and… Yeah. They kept bumping into us. Yes, I know that’s expected at a concert but if you go too hard, I will bump you back! And I ended up having to elbow one of the guys cuz fuck off!! Trying to enjoy the music here!! Eventually there were beer cans and drinks spilled. Had to make sure not to slip (especially wearing Converse).

Now that was during WCAR and BVB. Other than that, crowd was pretty chill. Then when it came to MIW, there were mosh pits starting to happen and fortunately we didn’t get pulled into one. Slaughterhouse started, and this one guy attempted to crowd surf out of nowhere. I didn’t like it. Best friend and I did our best to move him over. The next set of people weren’t able to support him so he ended up getting dropped. Of course everyone around stopped and made sure he was ok.

It kinda ruined the mood for me and others who were excited to hear MIW’s heaviest song from their new album. Best friend said there was a chick who shouted that it ruined the song. MIW didn’t stop playing so they probably didn’t catch what was happening. The guy proceeded to complain that it was bullshit that no one caught him. I get that he’s in pain, but dude… You can’t expect everyone to have upper body strength! That’s one of the risks of crowd surfing!

During the rest of MIW’s set, more crowd surfing happened. I was able to avoid having to touch someone again. Then I think when MIW was done, the guy who got dropped came back and started complaining how come no one had a problem crowd surfing those dudes? C’mon man. That’s ‘cuz this time it was expected! I could’ve sworn someone fell too but whatever.

Apparently, during one of the crowd surfs, a little girl who had been on an adult’s shoulders this whole time, got kicked. Why the hell would you direct a surf toward a child??? Her mom rushed her through the crowd to double check that she was alright. From what I could tell/hear, she was ok. Still not cool. Gotta respect the kids, man.

Another incident, during INK’s set, some guy was being an asshole to women. I mentioned that as well in my ask post if you want to see the link. We didn’t know that had happened because by that time, we left for the merch table. So fuck that guy! From where we could see in one of the upper levels, there were two mosh pits that had formed.

Overall

Experience rating: 3 out of 5

Besides my bitching, I had a great time at the concert! Great to experience it with my long-time best friend! Lots of love to the bands! Became a new fan of INK. Great lineup for a tour called The Trinity of Terror. Really lived up to it. Hope to go to another concert sometime in the future!

P.S: For the love of all that's unholy, please stay home if you're ill and/or have a fever. We don't need people getting infected, especially the bands and crew.

Thank you for reading!

#trinity of terror #trinity of terror tour #9/3/22 #we came as romans #black veil brides #motionless in white #ice nine kills #wcar #bvb #miw #ink #ramblings of a saint

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bearseokie · 4 years

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boyfriend! oneus

[ gender-neutral! ]

oneus m.list | navi. | nsfw! bf! oneus (M)

Ravn:

selfie game, strong! between his insane visuals and like-minded camera angles, you're never let down by his pretty selfies that he sends you throughout the day. mainly paired with his chin to his chest while he's pouting and a silly caption.

if you think his selfies are good, the way he takes couple pictures? chef's kiss. you're never low on pics to post to social media or to put on your fridge. even the embarrassing ones, but he'll whine about those later.

matching onesies or couple pajamas.

walks up to you just to rest his chin on your head or shoulder and breathe you in.

holds your hand in the way that his entire hand envelops the width of your fingers while you hold on to his thumb.

asks for you to buy him flowers more than he gets them for you. you can't help but want to see his eyes sparkle at the sight of a dozen roses, though.

is probably biting his lip unwillingly but also on purpose. it's a habit you learn to enjoy. he does it when he's focused too, so you always know if he's paying attention or not. as confident as he is, he blushes when you call him out for it.

wraps his arms all the way around your torso and picks you up in a hug just because he can.

will see something out of the corner of his eye and make a whole circle to turn towards it. usually it's a gift of a random item he thinks you'll adore, and you always do. you'll gain a little collection of things you never imagined you'd own being with him.

genuinely not used to physical contact and tends to be rougher than he means to be. he's a temperate boy that has a habit of patting your head or kissing you a little too hard because he's in love and is still learning.

talks your ears off when you're alone. if you don't pull his beanie over his face, he won't shut up.

comes across as intimidating, but is literally the most considerate person. like he will physically reel you backwards just to gently push away an eyelash from your cheek and kiss your lips.

big pant, big shirt. aka his and your big pant and big shirt. sharing is caring. he gets butterflies in his stomach watching your hand caress over the clothes hanging in his closet as you search for something to wear.

unintentional - but completely intentional - lip locking. like he'll bend over to reach across your form laying on the bed when you’re distracted and he’ll be right in your face. before you know it, you're sitting up and your lips are colliding. especially loves doing this in public because your warm face is his rapid beating heart.

will admit to others how much he loves you but will be so stubborn behind closed doors. says things like "are you sure we're talking about the same person? me, wait— me? I'm in love with you? no— no, you're right. I'm guilty."

pouty boy with big, pleading eyes all the time.

runs his fingertips over the lines of your hands. you catch him mimicking them on his own and smiling like an idiot when they match.

take his flannels. do it.

late nights where he bursts through your door while you're sleeping and shakes you awake to run a few lyrics by you. always second guesses himself, but when he sees that you're actually taken back by the words, he gets all smiley bolts back to work.

snuggles into your pillow until you lay down with him, then you're his true cuddle buddy.

Seoho:

dramatically pulls his coats off to put over your shoulders. his constant body heat can warm you up immediately.

takes you on movie dates just to sit in the very back and have heavy make outs with you. like panting, fingers laced in each other's hair, bodies fighting to get into each other’s seats — make out sessions.

his! laugh! the way you can get him to laugh is definitely one of his favorite things in the world, and his smile could light up a room. also has the tendency to laugh at you even when you're not being funny.

pushes his face into the crook of your neck to fall asleep. his breath on your skin can make you feel weird and loved at the same time, but his sound sleeps are worth it. also pushes you to lay on your back so he can curl up beside you and rub his forehead against you.

more chaotic dates where he does things you're afraid of just to show you not to be so scared. hugs you like a koala for the rest of the day.

matching outfits like crazy. even down to the accessories. loves spoiling you with new outfits even if you tell him you hate getting gifts so often.

hugs your waist and lifts you up to reach something instead of getting it down himself.

will have the same pic of you and him set as everything. his phone’s lockscreen, wallpaper, his laptop’s lockscreen, wallpaper, profile pics, it’s the only post on his social media.

so in love that it can come across as icky. blushing cheeks, sweaty palms, a bounce in his step.

mocks you like you’re already an old married couple. but his loving banter comes off as charming.

the saying 'know you like the back of my hand' had to have been written by him, himself, because he does, in fact, know you that well. he knows the different sounds of your sneezes - aka whether you have a cold or not. he knows the change of your morning voice versus the tone you have in the middle of the day. anything going through your mind, this man has down pact.

random night calls where he just goes 'I'm at the door, let me in." because his hands are too full to reach for his key. stumbles in with bags full of snacks and treats just to have you both sit on the floor eating and ranting until dawn.

the softest kisses. and I mean the softest kisses. like michael angelo adding details to his paintings, type soft. you can hardly ever feel them and barely knows he's there until he starts laughing or vibrating from the sudden eye contact you're giving him.

would rather waddle side to side in a back hug than let you go to walk somewhere alone.

has a list of everything he loves to share with you over time. movies, music, random memos in his phone.

included in those phone memos are literally so many details about you that it can make your eyes roll. he has the smallest details noted and little asterisks to remind him to write them down in a physical journal one day, but you might have to do that for him.

a lot quieter than he makes himself out to be. is basically a ghost when you're around him. the only way you really ever know where he is is if he's lugging around a bluetooth speaker with music playing.

messy! hair! he will literally refuse to brush his own hair until you do it for him. loves it more if you just use your fingers to comb his locks.

squinted eyes because he's smiling at you so hard that he'll probably bump into something in the process.

lets you hold both sides of his face in your palms. especially if he's cold. sometimes you can squish.

Leedo:

being with gunhak — it is literally a love novel.

warm eyes that sparkle when he looks at you. you notice it and keep quiet just to bask in his affection, but it’s always the first thing people mention when they talk about your relationship.

can’t help but reach his hand across the table to hold yours while you eat.

scrunches his nose when you say silly things.

the most attentive person when you’re telling a story. will sit with his chin in his palm and his eyes going between your gaze and lips as you speak. makes constant “mhm” and “ohh” sounds to let you know he’s right in the story with you. stops you to laugh at the way you say a specific word. you both spend hours sitting somewhere together just telling stories back and forth until the sun rises or sets.

can’t go a single day without throwing you over his shoulder and carrying you around.

has his hand on your lower back all day. like all day. in public, at home, in bed while you're sleeping. as long as his hand is on your back, you know he’s next to you.

his face is always a hotter temperature than the rest of his body, especially if you’ve been looking at him all day. crimson cheeks, red-tipped ears, reddened lips because he can’t stop kissing you.

sleeps with you laying in between his legs and your head on his chest. you fall asleep to the beat of his heartbeat while he plays with your fingers and listens to your breathing.

puts you in the shopping cart before any items just so he can wheel you around and listen to you laugh when he pretends he’s going to ram into something.

will pull the shirt/jacket/top he was wearing over his head and toss it to you to wear or hug if he’s leaving so you don’t miss him too much.

isn’t extremely good with speaking words to express what he wants to say, so oftentimes you find little notebook pages folded around the house with love notes written on them. him telling you how much he appreciates how much you do for him. him saying ‘i love you’ in different colored ink in different kinds of ways. sometimes a smashed flower in between the pages just for added scents. completely a cheesy romantic with love notes.

likes to let you drive so he can put his elbow against the window and stare at you from across the front of the vehicle. while you’re focused he’s grinning and giggling because it’s ‘super adorable’.

sends flowers to your work at the most inappropriate times in order to keep anyone that’s been flirting with you in their place. very subtle about being protective, and thankfully never has to make large leaps to have others understand you’re unavailable. thinks it’s the best thing in the world when someone is eyeing you and you come running to him to dramatically toss your arms around his neck and place a kiss on his lips.

enjoys having cleverly matching pieces. a pair of earrings shared between the two of you. matching bracelets. soft cotton shirts you can wear on your days off. two blankets of the same designs but different colors.

severely embraces breaking his shyness when it comes to pda. will pull you into his arms and kiss you while walking down the street. lets you sit on his lap in a busy place. carries you on his back around big stores.

works out with you around him. if he wants to do sit ups, you're holding his feet. if he wants to do push ups, you're laying under him giving him kisses every time he comes down.

forehead kisses. temple kisses. cheek kisses. literally all of the softest kisses.

terribly difficult to wake up, but the sound of your voice will draw his lids to open in an instant so he can see your smiling face.

super nervous about the entire relationship so you have to guide him at a reasonable pace. hold his hand first, kiss him first, even say 'i love you' first, but he'll return it all in a beat after you express your love.

Hwanwoong:

would be the one to have that situation where you met by running into each other at full force and had to laugh it off despite how much pain you were both in. he does something like offer to buy you a drink as an apology and then he never leaves your side.

sits with him between your legs and his back pressed into your front so you can hug him around his waist and lean on him.

smells are a huge deal to him. hoards light scented candles and renames them with comic titles or references to your relationship just to make you laugh when he calls them out in conversations.

runs his fingers through your hair as a way of showing affection on a regular basis. if you’re in public, he’ll sneak in a quick kiss just because he isn’t huge on pda.

but not liking pda doesn't mean he won't cling to you behind closed doors. he can't go very long without brushing his skin against your own, even in a subtle way.

physically capable of making meals on his own, or with you, but he's too lazy. enjoy the take out! also huge on getting snack foods to feed you in a romantic way without it being intentional.

quiet. very quiet. he enjoys silence while holding you or waking up in the midst of the night just to hear you sleeping peacefully. it's his solace.

although he gets whiny, he will let you do anything you want to him. test out makeup looks on him, play with his hair, make him dress up for you. just as long as you can reciprocate by going on sweet dates with him or let him read his favorite stories to you, he's all for it.

gets you random, very personal gifts. his attentiveness is insane, so he'll give you something like a better-formed pillow to help you sleep or a journal of your silly inside jokes to keep around when you have to be apart.

pretends he's not emotional during the day only to spill the deepest things to you at night. you're his diary and he loves you for that.

but with his distant state, you're still the one to notice things first. if he's too tired, if he's hungry - you know the tell-tale signs and can quietly get him back on his feet. you’re basically his weakness and muse all at once.

he might be the last one to wake up, but that's just because he enjoys knowing you slept by his side all night.

tilts your head to the side to kiss you because he thinks it's romantic.

doesn't care who you think you are, he will give you a piggyback ride.

does that thing where you'll be doing something important and he'll be sat next to you whispering jokes into your ear to keep you from getting stressed. also has to hold your hand the entire time or else he'll get up.

intuitive to your emotions and feelings. if you're in pain somewhere, he's in pain. if you're laughing, he's laughing.

the most pleasing, deep morning voice ever. doesn't even have to try. it's like two octaves lower than his regular voice and will always give you the shivers.

instead of big things for dates he does tasks like have all of your house chores done when you return or studies up on your school work to help you out. it's his way of showing affection and appreciation. but he does bigger things too like cover your bathroom in flower petals with a nice bath running when you get home.

has a tendency of saying your name the most when he’s sleeping.

makes choreography and dedicates them to you all the time. will tug you into the practice room to show you moves. but then he's giggling uncontrollably and starts complimenting you until you kiss him.

Keonhee:

records everything all the time. has backup storage just so he can film everything you both do or take a thousand pictures. spends literal hours printing out the pictures to make photo albums or put them on his wall so he never has to go a moment without seeing you. carries around a physical, mini album just to stare at while he’s traveling or feels lonely.

loves showering with you. will take the showerhead off of the wall and hold it over you while making lightsaber sounds.

loves the sound of you saying his name more than anything. when he's happy, upset, angry - just a call of his name can settle his emotions. and maybe a kiss too.

will sit or lay somewhere and just stare at you with a big, goofy grin on his face and loving sparkles in his eyes for no particular reason.

claps your hands together before he holds them.

makes music playlists titled with hysterical names that are more distracting than the chaos of the actual list. names them with emojis and such to see if you can code his secret love messages.

his lips are always redder than normal around you. quite literally doesn't know when or how to stop kissing you.

cannot comprehend how he could love someone more than you. it's that dumb love like he'll trip over his own two feet, say your name instead of his own when ordering something, or even intentionally get something he hates just because you like it.

changes the color of the led lights to define the mood. happy, sad, sexy time. the room is a rainbow every week.

contrary to popular belief of the cancer man, he's not clingy until you tell him to be. postpones all physical contact to the last moment when you ask why he's distant and give him consent to holding you whenever he wants. then he never lets you go.

has to be even in height with you ninety percent of the day, even if you're off by a few centimeters. helps you sit on the kitchen counter, hunches to kiss you, lifts you up by your waist.

being on opposite ends of a room while he's doing hand gestures and silently singing you the song stuck in his head.

his most genuine habit is giving away all of his emotions in his eyes. one glance and you know exactly how he feels, even if he isn't speaking about it aloud.

thinks being out in the rain is extremely romantic but will pull you back inside at the first drop because "you might get a cold".

hardly wears clothes when he starts getting seriously comfortable with you. no shirt, maybe some pajama pants, maybe some socks with random patterns on them. if he gets hot at any point, shield your eyes.

pouts without actually pouting. you'll hear a little huff from beside you instead.

put your belongings into the rips of his jeans instead of his pockets. they're 'safe'.

visibly shudders when he gets to hold your hand after a long day.

so many shoulder kisses you can't even keep up with them anymore.

you have a collection of him scrunching his nose when you're trying to get soft couple pictures because he can't take it seriously.

Xion:

if you fall asleep on him at any point during the day, he'll wrap you in his jacket or a blanket around you and carry you to bed. he'll let you rest comfortably while he lays beside you and watches you sleep while running his fingers across your face in a loving way.

sleeps holding your hand no matter what position you're both in.

dates are basically: carnivals to sit at the top of the ferris wheel and make out peacefully, picnics in the park to pick flowers and put them in your hair, going to bookstores just to shuffle through the comics and mangas.

bites you. slowly. he’s not the type to just bite into your skin randomly, more like you’ll get big puppy eyes and know he’s up to something before you feel a little nibble.

competitive in an ‘i’ll let you win if you give me a kiss’ way. guess who always wins. sike it’s him because he can use it as an excuse to make you pouty and then kiss you until you can’t even pretend to be angry anymore.

loves singing to you and only you.

hand-makes you jewelry because he finds it more endearing than buying them. plus it's sentimental.

hates blushing in front of others, but you can make him blush from a few words. loves the pet names you come up with. they sound like common conversation pieces so no one questions why you said them until they notice his face is nearly crimson.

unintentionally does romantic stuff. plays ballads over a speaker while prancing around until you take his hand and dance with him. finds a rose bush and gently clips a single flower to put in a vase for you. absentmindedly kisses your knuckles when he sees you for the first time in a while.

has the hardest time showing emotions, but does have the tendency to cry when parting or send you chain texts about how much he misses you when he's away.

random cheek kisses throughout the day.

sweater paws because you're both wearing his large hoodies and holding hands.

has more soft objects than you've ever witnessed a person own. now they're partially yours, so choose a stuffed animal.

random store dates where you go inside and find the strangest items you both fall in love with and get to put on display at home. you know when you go to someone's house and see an object that makes you question how it got there? he gets a lot of those for the two of you. 'conversation pieces', he says.

remembers cheesy quotes to tell you throughout the day to make you smile. if he wasn't in love, he'd never think twice about memorizing them.

probably thinking about kissing you every second of every day, but he uses his kisses wisely.

steals your shirts to sleep with when he's away because they smell like you.

cannot handle more than holding your hand in public at first, but he'll learn to love pda very quickly if you enjoy it.

where has all his phone's storage gone? oh, they're just pictures of you sleeping.

so adorned by you that his eyes literally sparkle, even if you're in his peripheral.

#oneus #oneus headcanon #oneus headcanons #oneus imagines #oneus scenarios #ravn #kim youngjo #seoho #lee seoho #leedo #kim gunhak #kim geonhak #hwanwoong #yeo hwanwoong #keonhee #lee keonhee #xion #son dongju #oneus.headcanon

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kixa · 4 years

Text

My fav girls w/ a fem! black s/o who is goth

Warnings: none

With: Mina Ashido and Alice Nakiri

A/n: black goth and alts are so pretty like ugh 😩 sorry this was a bit short

Requests are open but please try and do it by submission or anon my inbox is still acting stupid

Mina Ashido

Despite having a very poppy and colorful vibe and aesthetic she loves your style

Always hypes you up when you get ready

She thinks you’re the cutest

You’re different than anyone she knows *besides tokoyamii*

Whenever you meet new people she loves to show you off and brag about you

Y’all are really the definition of opposites attract

The way your darker colored clothes compliment your melinated skin *chefs kiss* immaculate 😎

You sometimes catch her trying on your black or darker clothes and she looks so cute

If you pop out with a particularly dark seggsy outfit she’s blushing up a storm

One day y’all switched up styles and everyone was shocked

You guys have matching septum piercings purr

She really listens to you and your ideals

Y’all will watch some oldies together

She really just loves you a lot and how unique you are uwu

Alice Nakiri

She already has sort of a baddie pop goth type feel to her

She definitely vibes with you though, you remind her of Ryo but she’s a lot softer around you

Y’all are definitely the sexy power interracial couple aaa that sounds cringe

She does your makeup sometimes and asks what type of look you are going for

“Do you want the smokey eye or dramatic thick eyeliner?”

When you guys aren’t at school y’all dress up and just *chefs kiss* the flava~

The silent couple but definitely freaky- y’all know what I mean 😏

Loves the way you look in leather

She makes squid ink soba quite often because she knows its your favorite

Adores your hairstyles and the way its dyed also

She is a little surprised when she finds out that you still listen to rnb and alt rap (stream bambam and District)

She’s the one the would match your energy closer than others (besides Ryo Kurokiba)

Lowkey y’all three, you, Alice, and Ryo are a best friend trio

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mrskurono · 3 years

Note

hii, i was hoping you could help me? I’m getting a tattoo next week but i can’t decide between two pictures? i wanted to ask you because no one I know irl reads jjk so I’m turning to the internet lol.

**these are from the new chapter! please just delete this ask if you don’t want spoilers!!**

these are the two pictures and the manga panel would be resized

I'm gonna assume Maki is the one you're getting all tatted up with bc if its Naoya then we might have to have a discussion baby 🤣

First off as someone with only black and white tattoos Maki's outfit is gonna suck depending where you put it 😩 Inking in huge black surfaces isn't for the weak. As for the picture....that's hard, it depends on what the artist is good at y'know? Honestly I love the full body Makki. Its one of my fav caps of her and it would look so bad ass on like an arm or something. But at the same time the quote of the other one is *chefs kiss*

Personally I love the full body one. But the head shot one would be just as good. I'd ask what your artist is more tailored to doing if they're down for a full body or they'd give better quality for a bust only. My personal vote is for the first Maki!

#three.talks #dollofchaos.♡#jjk spoilers #jjk #maki zenin

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yandere-daydreams · 5 years

Note

Would love to request something with innocent-looking Prince! Izuku obsessing over a commoner reader and being a creep/perv beneath the “naive prince izuku uwu” mask.

If anyone’s going to take advantage of one of their people, it’s going to be a boy who won’t realize he’s doing it. Not to say he’s very subtle.

TW: Alcohol, Violence, Emotional Manipulation and Isolation.

‘It’ll help the family,’ Your parents had said.

‘He’s a Prince, you don’t need to know him,’ Your friends had reassured.

‘Izuku is kind, you can trust him,’ You’d told yourself. Up until the very end, in fact.

It took weeks to build the confidence to consider the choice, and another month to gain the courage to leave your family. You’d lived in the Capitol all your life, but you’d only run into Prince Midoriya once, even if he had insisted that you use his given name barely an hour into your companionship. The first letter has come days later, written in ink more expensive than most of your possessions and sealed with the royal family’s crest. The position itself wasn’t glamorous, framing you as more of an attendant than anything, but the pay was good, and if you were being honest, you were eager to see what life in a more... affluent setting would be like.

It was exciting, and it was new.

It was the reason you’d ‘accidentally’ collided with the poorly-disguised Prince in the first place, even if you did take a bit of time to consider the consequences.

You’d always remember what it was like when you first arrived at Izuku’s estate. It was further away from the castle than your own home, isolated and beautifully secluded, despite being grand in its own right. He’d said he didn’t want you to be too wonderstruck, an excuse made more convincing by his own tales of embarrassment after Inko and Toshinori had first married. If you think back to it, you could still feel his servants staring at you, the hidden glances of his guards as they hesitated to open the gates. Izuku’d welcomed you with open arms, of course, his hugs edging on too friendly and too tight, but… his staff didn’t seem to share his excitement.

‘Commoners are security risks,’ The soldiers explained.

‘He’ll be distracted,’ His advisors cautioned.

“There are more qualified candidates, especially for such a personal role,” His maids and butlers had whispered, and only growing louder when you pretended not to hear them.

In the moment, you’d clenched your fists and bit your tongue, but you knew you didn’t have to worry about Izuku’s opinion on you. His eyes brightened as he dissuaded their concerns, his smile wide and the arm around your shoulders comfortingly snug, his word serving as law among his servants. It was law for you too, really. Through your letters and your conversations and his fixation on bringing you closer, he’d become your friend, but he was still your Prince, your sovereign, your lord, whether or not you spoke to him more casually than most. He was your sponsor, as well, now.

That night was the first time he touched you. The day had passed quickly, Izuku touring you around the mansion like a hyper-child who’d just made a new friend, and the night came with food and wine and fun. Your chambers were quaint, with just enough room for Izuku to watch as you changed into the new, hand-sewn uniforms he’d commissioned, clapping as you spun and laughing whenever you began to giggle. You can’t really recall much of it, but you knew he called you to his side and told you to sit still, if only so he could get a better look. You knew he was smiling, and you knew you liked his smile, but you didn’t think you really cared for the way he stared, the way he grabbed at you, how his hands always seeming to linger far too long.

But, you didn’t dare speak a word, not if it would’ve come out negatively.

Izuku was such a gentle soul, you were sure he couldn’t have had anything but the best intentions.

You fell into your new occupation quickly, after that. Izuku didn’t appear to need much help, having been raised outside of the castle before ‘All Might’ chose the young boy as his heir, and later on, Izuku’s mother as his wife. You would draw his baths and organize his schedule, delivering his meals and reading out his letters, but Izuku appeared to want company more than anything. You’d take his tea with him more often than not, sleeping less in your own room than in his. You noticed that he didn’t have the chance to meet many people, although he received many, many visits from all the mages and warriors and creatures he’d befriended. He asked you to stay out of sight, during those hours, but you didn’t pay that detail much thought. The noise they made alone would’ve been enough to drive you away.

The other members of his staff dwindled slowly, but noticeably all the same. Upon your concern, he assured you that the chefs and servants and footmen were only being sent to other manors and estates, that he’d always been expected to take care of himself. It’s was a bit more taxing, you’d admit, but Izuku was more than capable. Often times, you’d be the one waiting and watching as he cooked or filed unnecessary paperwork. Occasionally, he’d even be awake before you. Those days were the easiest, Izuku insisting that you stay in bed for another hour, that you let him show you the new outfit he had delivered or try the sweet he’d imported or simply lay back and listen to stories of his quests, his training, of his plans for the future.

Gifts were frequent, work was sparse, and you rarely accompanied him on the rare outings he did take. By the time half a year had passed, days where you did nothing were far more common than days where you did anything.

The boredom was frustrating, stifling. You got impatient, once, asking him when he would return to the castle or travel to another kingdom or do something that would let you leave the estate. You tried to be playful, to exchange some of the rumors you’d heard about his family and his lifestyle for Izuku’s flustered corrections, but he hadn’t seemed entertained.

“Are you tired of me already?” He’d snapped.

“I bet you just can’t wait to get rid of me,” Izuku accused, suddenly glaring.

“We don’t need to go to the castle, and you shouldn’t want to leave. Am I not enough for you, anymore? Do you not love me?” He yelled, standing only to corner you, to trap you.

He touched you again, that night, rougher than he had the first time. The clothes he loved so much were torn in his fist, buttons ripped off and lace ruined beyond repair, your skin not going unharmed in the process. When you tried to fall to your knees, to beg for his forgiveness or pull yourself together, he only took your wrist, forcing you to your feet and taking you back to his room, not your own. Again, there’d been wine, forced down your throat and so much more bitter than it had tasted before, and Izuku was still laughing, calming enough to chuckle when you began to cry.

You didn’t sit next to him, he wouldn’t allow it. You were forced into his lap until the sun rose, Izuku petting your hair and hushing you and never bothering to pull away, never giving you space to breathe. He held you, his hands leaving bruises on your hips and your neck, but he didn’t let go, clinging on to you as sleep took the young Prince. There were kisses and apologies and promises when he awoke, but you didn’t speak a word.

Not that you were scared of hurting his feelings, anymore.

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hustlinhufflepuff · 4 years

Text

I’ll Remember (Part 2)

PART ONE

Dracoxfemreader

Warnings: some bad words, rough sex, smut

A/N: This is my first time writing smut I hope it’s okay. I’m out of school till January so I can write without feeling guilt for not doing my work! Also, I tried making the sex scene more real by including him asking for consent and respecting boundaries! @dray-cookies I hope I didn’t disappoint omg IM SCARED

Word count: 3945

The next morning comes – scratch that, the next afternoon comes and you wake up. You wipe the drool off your face as you sit up on your bed. I thought sleeping was supposed to help not getting a hangover. You get up and stumble into the bathroom and see yourself in the mirror. You were still wearing last night's outfit and your mascara was smudged. You undress yourself and get in the shower to remove the smell of alcohol and wipe off the smudged mascara. Once you get out you look in the mirror and wipe off whatever residue was on your face and brush your teeth. You exit the bathroom and your roommate has returned, “Oh, you’re up!” she said surprised. “I wouldn’t say I’m completely awake” you respond. She shrugs and continues shuffling through her chest. “What are you searching for?” you ask. “I’m looking for my picture of my family, I’ve been meaning to frame it and put it on my nightstand” she says, continuing to rummage through everything. “Ah, well you have fun with that, I’m heading to lunch” you say turning the doorknob. “Yeah, heading to lunch an hour late. “Well I didn’t you wake me up!” you say standing in the door frame. She looked back at you, “You don’t think I tried?” she said and you closed your eyes and tilted your head to say “fair enough”.

You arrived at the Great Hall and sat down, it was pretty vacant and you didn’t see anyone you wanted to sit with so you sat alone. You began eating some soup and slurping it up, “Oh God, please stop making that horrendous sound” you look up to see Draco standing across from you. He sits down in front of you and you furrow your eyebrows, “Actually, in Japan, it’s considered a compliment to the chef if you slurp your ramen” you say sitting straighter. Draco scoffs, “Are we in Japan and are you eating ramen?” he said looking at you. “Well, if you don’t like it, you can leave” you say back. He puts his hands up and pushes forward, “Whoa, calm down!! I’ll put up with it and stay.” he says. “I am calm!!” you raise your voice and slam your fist on the table. “Sorry, I’m cranky” you say, realizing you overreacted. “Well, you did drink 8 cups of beer” you roll your eyes. “You came to the party?” you say confused. “Yeah, I got there just in time to see you drink your 8th cup” he replied. “I was there for maybe half an hour until you knocked out” you blush slightly. You look up at the ceiling trying to remember last night, “I kind of remember now, I remember us talking while I was in bed” you look at him and could see he was getting uncomfortable. “Yep, we did. We just talked about basic stuff, got to go!” he said, getting up quickly and walking out the Great Hall at a fast pace. You watch him walk out, ‘Weird, he has a cute butt though’ you think to yourself, you shrug and finish up your soup.

After you took a short nap and became rehydrated, you didn’t feel so hungover. You kept thinking about why Draco felt so uncomfortable around you, he wasn’t that normally. Okay, let me think back to last night you think as you close your eyes. 1. I got carried by my teammates and the party started. 2. I started drinking while waiting for Draco. 3. I sang loudly and danced terribly after my 4th drink 4. I got sad because Draco hadn’t shown up and started drinking my 6th drink 5. After my 7th I began dancing again. 6. Got tired, started my 8th drink and Draco came! 7. I got tired and he helped me to my dorm. 8. We talked about…. shit… this is the part I can’t remember… Come on, brain! Think!! Okay, we talked about the game and he said he got distracted and that’s why he lost! He got distracted by… ME! He got distracted by ME! I remember now! He told me I was pretty and kissed me goodnight!

Your roommate poked you, “You okay?” she asks. You open your eyes, “Yes, why?” you respond, sitting up on your bed. “You were just making weird faces, I didn’t know what was happening” she shrugged. “Oh, yeah.. just thinking about things..” you say, fiddling with your hands. “Okay..” she said, skeptical of you, “Did you think about dinner? Cause I want dinner”. “Yes, let’s go!” you agree putting your shoes on.

As you sit next to your friend, you look behind you and see Draco sitting behind you at the Slytherin table. “Pssst” you whisper, his head snapped back to look at you. “What?” he whispered back. “We need to talk after dinner!” you raised your voice a little. “Why?” he raised his eyebrows. “Hey, Draco! What are you doing talking to a Huffle-punk” one of his friend sneered. “Shut up before I make you” Draco turned his head around and his voice became deeper and angry. His friend pressed his lips together and continued picking at his plate. “Why?” he repeated as he turned his torso to face you. “You’ll find out if you come with me” you smile. He frowns, upset that he has to wait to know.

He walks out the Great Hall with you, “Where are we going?” he asked. “The corridor, no one's ever there” you say, leading him. As you close the door behind you, you look Draco in the eyes and take a deep breath. “I know what you said last night”. Draco scoffed, “Really? What was that?” he crossed his arms. “You called me pretty!” you exclaimed. Draco’s face turned pink, “Uh, no I didn’t” his voice was shaky. “Draco, your reaction just admitted to me that you did” you look at him, “that's why you left earlier today right?” you say.

You can see Draco becoming shyer, he shook his head. “Stop lying, or..or.. I’ll do this!” you grab his face and stand on your toes and kiss him. You pull away and see an even pinker Draco, with your lipstick tinting his lips. “I, uh, yes, sorry, I” he was stumbling over his word as he spoke. You tapped his cheeks softly, “Draco!”. “Right, yes, sorry for lying. I did in fact call you pretty, but I wouldn’t have lied had I known you’d kiss me” he smiled and scratched the back of his head. “I know we haven’t known each other very along but… I feel like you care… you know? Like care about me.” he said softly. You grabbed his hand, “I’m glad you feel that way, I do care about you and I know you care about me, you’ve proved it by defending me.” you smiled and looked down to hide your flushed face. He smiled, “I do” he gently pushed your chin up to look at him. He kissed you and you rested your arms on his shoulders. You pulled away and just stared into his eyes, “We should probably leave” you state and Draco nods and you both walk out the door.

“What will people think when they realize I’ve gone soft for you?” Draco looks at you. “Probably blame you for losing the last game” you chuckle. “I’m serious, y/n. I don’t want people to think I’m weak.” he said. “They won’t, you’ve protected me. If anything, they’ll be even more scared to mess with you or me” Draco smiled at your response, “Yeah! You’re always right, y/n” he said as he held your hand. You walk towards the Hufflepuff dorms, the few people in the halls gave you two looks but Draco gave them a mean glare.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow?” you suggest. “I can’t wait,” Draco started going in for a kiss, “No, Mr. Malfoy.” Snape said, walking out of his classroom with a stack of papers. “Way to kill the mood” you say a little annoyed. “Bye sweetheart” he said letting go of your hands as he headed toward the Slytherin rooms. You tap the barrel 5 times and walk into the common room. You run towards your room, squealing, which got some strange looks from the people who were in the common room. “LILI” you exclaim as you burst through the door. “Y/N” she says with the same intensity as you. She was writing a paper and you jumped on the bed. “y/n, you almost made me spill all the ink!” she says placing her school supplies on her nightstand. “I’m sorry but I just have to tell someone!” you say. “Alright, what is it?” she asked. “Draco and I kissed!” her jaw dropped. “No!” she said. “Yes!” you jumped up and hugged her. “I knew you liked him!” she pushed you off her because you were hugging her for so long. “Like, present tense” you correct her and she rolls her eyes. “Well, I’m happy for you both. You’ll be good for him” she smiled at you. “Now, let me work” her smile disappeared as she continued writing her paper.

You rushed to breakfast that Monday morning, waking up before your roommate to get ready. You took longer than her to get ready, she was naturally pretty and could literally walk out the door in her pajamas and look good. When you both got to breakfast you kept staring at Draco. “y/n!” a friend snapped her fingers in your face. “Yeah, yeah” you say, moving your eyes off of Draco to your friend. “What’s up with you this morning? You seem a bit distracted” she asks. “It’s because her and Draco kissed last night” your roommate answers for you. “No way!” “Get it, y/n” “Nice!” the people around you commented. “DRACO? DRACO MALFOY?” one of them yelled from a few seats done, everyone glared at him, including the Slytherins within hearing range, which meant Draco heard.

Draco looked at the boy who yelled his name and stood up to confront it. “Yes?” he said placing his hands onto the table and bending slightly to be at eye-level. “What could you possibly want, you mu– must be stupid” Draco stopped himself from saying “mudblood” to the poor boy. At this point the entire cafeteria was staring at the encounter. “No.. I was just going to ask.. Is it true?” the boy asked scared he’d say the wrong thing. Draco raised his eyebrows, “Is what true?” he questioned. “That..that..that” he stuttered. “Out with it already!” Draco demanded. “IS IT TRUE THAT YOU’RE DATING Y/N?” the boy yelled, shutting his eyes, scared of Draco's reaction. The people listening in began whispering among themselves. Draco sighed as he looked at you, he took a deep breath and stood up tall, “Why yes, I am. I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” he replied and walked away. Everyone continued talking about, his friends at his table were either giggling or staring at him in confusion.

You walked by Draco’s side as you both walked to Care for Magical creatures. “I’m proud of you” you say to him. “For what?” he asks. “You didn't call him a.. mudblood” you whispered the last word so no one would hear. “Oh, that. Yes, I’m trying to watch my language for you” he responds nonchalantly. “Aww” you coo. You stood next to him once you got to class, you held hands. “This ‘ere is a fire crab” Hagrid held the creature in his hands showing around to the class. “Isn’t she a beaut?” he asked the class. Draco shook his head and you giggled. “These babies are endangered, meaning there aren’t many of them out ‘ere.” he informed the class, and the class gave disappointed ‘aws’ when he shared that information. “Their shells are highly valuable, which means people care more about the money than protecting this wonderful species” he said holding the crab up.

“Alright, she is kind of cute” you whispered to Draco. “A little” he agreed. 2 girls in front of you turned around, annoyed that your conversation was distracting them. They didn’t expect for Draco to be there and give them a scowl. They quickly turned around and focused their attention on Hagrid. “Not to worry, I got another female and 2 males, they’ll make babies!” he said, excited.

Class was over and you walked with Draco to your next class, he had a free period and wanted to spend all his time with you. “You’re taking Muggle Studies?!” he asks, confused. “Yes, I find their world so fascinating” you tell him. He scoffs, “What could be so great in the Muggle world?”. “They have things called smart phones and it can do all sorts of things! Like send a message to someone else’s in a second! Without being close!” you exclaim. “Psh, we can use owls for that!” he says. “Yeah, but it’d be nice to talk to you after curfew.” you tell him as you're standing outside of the classroom.

“Do you think Professor Burbage would mind if I sat in for a lesson” he asks. “Of course not! Yay!” you clap and pull him into the classroom. “Today, we’ll be discussing how muggles travel the world!” Professor Burbage spins the globe on her desk. You begin writing notes, ‘Muggle Travel’. Draco looks over your shoulder confused but doesn’t comment as he doesn’t want to bring attention to himself in a class he wasn’t even supposed to be in. Plus, he thought you looked pretty when you were focused. “Now, people can travel by cars but it can take hours, even days to arrive at their destination!” the class gasps. “But, they use planes too!” she continues. “Planes look like this,” she shows a model airplane. “They’re huge! And people fly from one place to another much quicker this way!” you scribble down your notes. Draco lays back into his seat, actually interested by the new information. “Professor, why would they use their cars and not the plane?” you ask after she acknowledges your raised hand.

“Well, my sweet child, muggles also use money and have jobs that pay better than others. Some families just can’t afford to pay for a plane for multiple tickets and driving a car costs less” you write that down but raise your non dominant hand to continue your question. “Yes, y/l/n?” “How much does a car cost?” you look up from writing. “Cars can cost a lot of money, you have to buy a car which can either be cheap or expensive, and if you buy a cheap care you’ll have to fix the car which would cause you to spend more money and then in order to drive the car you have to put a thing called ‘gas’ inside of it” she displays her figure car and a ‘gas station’ and shows the class how it works.

“Muggles are weird,” Draco says as you leave the class. “You’re weird” you tease him. “However, I can see how you find them interesting,” he says disregarding your remark. “Ooo, do you think you’ll enroll,” you nudge him. “I would but I’d be too far behind,” he responds. “I can help you get caught up!” you offer. “Seriously? Alright, I’ll get it added to my schedule.” he shrugs. “I’ll see you after dinner!”

“Okay, okay, we can start studying, I don’t want anyone to see what we’re studying, can we go into corridor?” he asks. “Fine,” you groan. He grins because you agreed to it. “Okay, first chapter, why do we hide the existence of magic?” You read aloud. You and Draco go over the chapter, “so, every time anyone sees it, we just use obliviate?” he asks, you nod. “Yes, that's how we're still a secret, obviously wizards have messed up in the past and exposed magic but they’ve controlled the problem” you say closing the book. “Okay, 1 chapter down, 3 more to go, woo-hoo!” you cheer. “We still have 30 minutes until curfew..” Draco states. “We could stay in here, together?” he suggests. “Yeah! I’d love that, love,” you say, reaching out to hold his hand.

You both scoot closer to each other, and start kissing, “I love your lips y/n” he pulls away to tell you but quickly returns to kissing you. He begins kissing your neck, you raise your head so he could kiss you everywhere. “I love your kisses Draco” you say with your fingers intertwined in his hair.

He lifts you up from your seat onto his lap. He kisses your neck from behind, you giggle and squirm because it tickles. He rubs his hand up and down your arms, “you’re so beautiful y/n” he whispers in your ear, “and when you wear your skirts, it just makes it hard to resist,” he whispers. “Resist from what?” you whisper back. “Resist from kissing you and touching you everywhere” he answers. “Then stop resisting” you say getting up and sitting in his lap facing hip. He grabs your face and kisses you roughly, he kisses your neck and begins working on giving you a love bite. “You need a mark on your neck so everyone knows that you’re mine” you simply let out a small moan. “Say it, say that you’re mine!” he says as his hands slide under and he squeezes you ass. “Yes! Oh, yes, I’m all yours” you throw your head back enjoying how he’s rubbing his hand up and down your thighs. “Good girl” he calls you. That name made your pussy start getting wet, and you could feel how hard he was.

He tugs at your top, beginning to unbutton it. He unclasps your bra and begins kissing your breast. You run your fingers through his hair as you grind against his crotch. “Fuck, don’t tease me baby girl” he says. “It’s yours if you want it, Draco” you tell him. “Please, call me sir,” he asks. “Mmm, yes sir” you respond. “Get up” he commands you. He pulls his pants and briefs down, his hard cock quickly rose and smacked his stomach.

“Have you ever given a blowjob?” he asks. You shake your head no, “Well, here’s your chance, kneel in front of me, baby girl” you do as you're told and put your hand around his thick cock. It’s pulsing, you put your mouth on the head and moans, “Fuck yes” he moans out as he watches you. You put it further in your mouth, “Oo, careful with your teeth, sweetie” he asks. You continue going deeper, until it hits the back of your throat. There was still another two inches that never made it in your mouth, “Is it okay if I’m rough with you?” he whispers and you nod with his cock still in your mouth. He grabs your hair and pulls in and out of your mouth, going deeper than you thought it could. You push against his thighs after two minutes, he pulls out and wipes the tears off your face. “You look so beautiful getting face fucked by me, princess.” he smiles down at you and you smile back with your mascara smudged everywhere. “Thank you… sir” he kisses the top off your head. “Want to be a good girl and take those panties off for me?” you nod and take them off you tug at your skirt but Draco grabs your hand, “Leave it” he says, “get on my lap, baby girl” he spreads his legs. You get on top and his cock is against his stomach, “You tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” he whispers and you nod in agreement. “Raise up a little baby” you hover over his lap as he grabs his cock to put into your entrance. His tip was ready to enter, he looks into your eyes, “Sit down on it” he tells you and you slowly slide down. It hurts at first but your pussy was so wet it lubricated it. “Fuuuck, you’re so tight” he groans. You whimper when he's completely inside of you. “What’s wrong sweetie?” he pauses to ask. “Nothing, you’re just so big” he smirks, “fuck me” you tell him. He wraps his hand around your neck, “I tell you what to do, not the other way around, got it?” you nod at him. “Good, now, just feel my cock inside of you for a minute, do you like how it feels?” you nod.

He puts his hand in front of your vagina, he only put his thumb through your lips and he began to rub your clit. You moan loudly, he stuffs your mouth with your panties, “Quiet or someone will hear us” you nod and he takes the panties out of your mouth. He continues rubbing your clit and you bury your face into his shoulder to muffle your moans. He stops rubbing, you sit up and take a deep breath. “Oh my God” you say out of breath. He sucks the thumb that he used to get you off, “you taste so good princess, if we had more time I’d eat you out, but that’s for another day. We only have 10 minutes so I’m going to fuck you hard, okay?” you nod. He stands up, carrying you with him. He pushes you against the wall and pounds against you, you moan loudly. He takes his tie and stuffs it in your mouth, he continues fucking you, “You’re so wet, all for me” you nod and look at him. “Fuck yes, look at me while I fuck you” he grabs your neck and chokes you, you smack his hand and shake your head. He stops choking you and just keeps his hand wrapped around your neck.

Your legs start shaking and he notices, he makes space to put his hand in between you two and begins rubbing your clit again. Your legs were wrapped around his waist but you wrapped them tighter. “Do you like it baby girl? Tell me if you do, don’t be shy” he rubs faster, “Yes, I do,” you moan, throwing your head back against the wall. “Yes what?” he says aggressively. “Yes, sir” you start panting “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum!” you say at a higher volume. “Cum on my cock, baby, cum!” he encourages. You cum all over him, “fuck, you’re so fucking hot I’m going to cum” he thrusts deep and stays there, “I’m cumming” he moans into your ear.

He puts you down, you spit the tie into his hand, you’re both sweating. He licks the cuffs of his shirt and wipes the smudged mascara. He helps you put your panties and bra back on. He pulls his pants up as you button your shirt. “We should go now,” he says, taking your hand. You walk with him, your legs sore from him. “I’m skipping flying class tomorrow,” you tell Draco. He laughs, I’ll skip with you if that’s alright?” you nod.

“Goodnight sweetie, clean up and get some rest” he kisses the top of your head, “you too babe” you say as you split ways. You try to walk normally past everyone, you look down to hide any left over makeup. You walk into your dorm and Lili looks up at you, “Oh, hey!” she waves. “Ohhh, heyyyy” she says when she looks at your messed up hair, smudged mascara and how you walk. Your face turns pink and you go clean up in the bathroom. Goddamn Draco, that was good.

#Draco Malfoy #draco imagine #draco fanfiction #draco x reader #draco smut #draco series #draco lucius malfoy #draco scenario

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adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 5 years

Note

Angel y/n coming home to find demon harry naked on the bed reading. How smug he would be at the shock on her face

All Y/N wanted to do was show Harry the cute devil-horn pattern cooking apron she’d found at Target.

That’s all she wanted to do.

She just wanted to come home and hold it up proudly to see him break into that fond, giddy smile he gets whenever she does something that makes him extremely happy. She just wanted to hear that adorable boyish giggle he’d release while slipping the ribbon over his head and tying the back into a knot, snorting once he saw that the ends of the strings had little pointed peaks to symbolize devil tails. He’d say he loved it and thank her with a chaste kiss to her forehead, a pat on the bum, and probably some crude remark about how he used to own an apron with topless women on it.

Instead, she got much more than what she bargained for.

Granted, she should’ve announced that she was home as soon as she walked through the front door. It would’ve given Harry a heads up on her presence and she’s maybe about fifty percent confident he would’ve handled himself accordingly.

But Y/N had wanted to surprise him, too excited to thoroughly think her plan through.

She swiftly sets down the rest of the groceries onto the kitchen island, kicking off her shoes and dashing up the carpeted stairs to their shared bedroom on the top floor of the condo, the apron whipping behind her.

Y/N bumps the door of the room open with her shoulder, already holding up the apron before her with an ecstatic`aura evident in her tone. “Harry, look what I found at—”

Her words lodge in her throat like a demon blade.

Laying on the bed is Harry, back propped against the headboard and legs crossed casually at his ankles, a worn, aged, wine-colored book propped easily against his thighs. The scraped up cover of the novel has its title engraved in reflective gold calligraphy, some of the letters stained with a dried, suspiciously dark liquid: Demonology et Transcendentalis Magia: Carminibus et Invocationes.

In smaller, copper-tinted print below the cursive is the title in English: Demonology and Transcendental Magic: Incantations and Invocations.

However, the satanic scripture isn’t what causes Y/N to release a strangled yelp.

It’s the fact that beneath the book, Harry’s thighs are utterly bare, as well as the rest of his legs, and the rest of his entire body. He’s completely nude.

Her choked sound of mortification pricks at his ears, his head snapping upwards in startled confusion.

The curls at the nape of his neck and around his ears are visibly damp, the rest neatly combed back from his face as to not disturb his immersion in the grimoire. His eyes flit completely black for a second and out of protective instinct, he mumbles a quick, simple defensive spell under his breath. “Ligaveris.”

Bind.

Y/N’s arms immediately slam down at her sides, an invisible force tightening all of her limbs together stiffly until she cannot move a single muscle. It feels as if she’s trapped inside a straight jacket, her whole body completely immobile from her neck down. In the spur of the moment, the apron had been ripped from her grasp and ended up strewn across the floor at her feet.

Harry’s eyes flicker from the silly article up to his girlfriend’s spooked face, apologetic familiarity dissolving away the alarmed contempt that had furrowed his brows and inked his eyes dark. “Oops.”

“‘Oops?!’” Y/N’s voice is strained and high, full of stunned fear that is slowly ebbing into annoyed range. “Get me the hell out of—”

“Solvo.” Release.

Her entire body slumps down as the rigidness in her muscles disappears into thin air. She takes in a slow, shaky breath, letting it out gradually.

She keeps her gaze focused down onto the ground, zeroed in on a faded stain in the carpet a few inches from her left foot. Her voice is full of irritated indignation. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

She doesn’t have to look up to know he has a smug simper plastered across his tinted lips. His sly tone reveals it quite well. “Reading, obviously.”

She can sense him waving the book in the air haphazardly for emphasis, hearing it plop back down against his naked lap.

“Naked?!” Y/N nearly shrieks, still on edge from the sudden attack. “You’re reading naked?”

He shrugs carelessly. “I like to air dry.”

The snark in his remark causes her to shut her eyes in order to reign in composure, wanting to avoid smiting him into a black grease spot.

“You’re practicing satanic magic in our apartment, on our bed, nude?”

“Maybe so.”

Y/N snatches up the apron from the floor. “As if the nude part wasn’t bad enough?”

“S’not my fault you decided to waltz in here unannounced! You’re lucky I didn’t go with the spontaneous combustion spell.”

She indulges an exasperated sigh, the fabric of her gift crumpling in her fist.

The sound of the bed creaking echoes across the walls of the room, light footsteps padding across the carpet. Y/N can feel Harry closing in until he’s right in front of her, shifting her gaze from downwards to across the room to avoid an eyeful.

It lands on the small metal cross she has pinned to the lamp shade on her nightstand, which of course is now flipped upside down. She has to actively force herself to keep from glaring directly at him out of angry impulse.

It’s not helping that he smells of orchid apple shampoo and Tom Ford aftershave.

Harry ducks his head to the side and slides further left, trying to catch her line of sight, but she cranes her neck away just enough to avert a full frontal image of his unholy bits.

He leans forward, lips dragging along her stinging cheekbones and clenched jaw, his demeanor sultry and tauntingly persuasive, trying to coax her into looking. “Is that for me?”

Y/N jumps slightly when his fingers sift between her’s, prying the apron from her hold. He keeps his arrogant expression trained on her for a few more heartbeats, eventually tearing away to examine his present.

A preen of childish delight fills the tense air between them as he takes in the point of the gift. “Oh, I love this!”

Out of the corner of her vision she can see him slipping it on, releasing an amused hum (just as she thought he would) as he ties the ribbon around his waist. “The devil tails are a nice touch.”

“I thought you’d get a kick out of it.”

“You can look now, I’m decent.”

Y/N hesitantly abides.

The apron fits him well in length and width, though his broad shoulders are exposed for the most part. But it stops just above his knees, fitting the purpose of saving her from an uncomfortable situation she’s not really ready to face head-on yet (pun unintended, but there nonetheless).

Not to mention he looks absolutely adorable.

Harry lifts his arms up at his sides expectantly, the edges of his lips jolting into a giddy grin. “How do I look?”

“Like the cutest demonic chef I’ve ever seen.”

He poses with his chin propped on one of his shoulders, batting his eyes jestingly, dying them black for effect. “The only thing that could make this better was if it said something like ‘Expert in soul food.’ or ‘Summon the cook!’”

Y/N breaks into a heap of full-fledged giggles, his heart doing a summersault at the way her eyes flash with a holographic glint.

“I think…” He leans down and buttons his lips to her’s in a gentle kiss that causes her ears to crackle with literal electric energy, the tiny spurts of pastel blue lightning popping across the shells. He pulls back, pecking the tip of her heated nose. “I think I’m gonna go make us some dinner in my new nifty outfit.”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

Harry glimpses over his shoulder, eyes landing on his spellbook. “Venit.”

Come.

The novel suddenly lurches up from its spot on their bed, flipping closed as it flies through the air right into Harry’s awaiting palm. “I’m feeling some Italian tonight. Lasagna?”

Y/N nods distractedly, eyeballing the book with slight unease as he tucks it under his arm. “I got some fresh mozzarella.”

“Perfect. I’ll call you down when it’s ready.”

Harry brushes past his girlfriend, her eyes following him to the door. She should’ve known better.

Aprons only cover the front.

Y/N gets a wholesome view of Harry’s behind as he walks down the corridor that leads to the stairs; for some reason, she can’t look away. Her eyes trail down his taut back as it flexes with every step, following the line of his spine down to the swell of his ass and the curve of the backs of his thick thighs. He just looks so fucking good.

His voice breaks her little peep show, chiming from a few feet down the hallway with an air of self-satisfaction. “I can feel you ogling at my ass, darling.”

Y/N’s head lurches away, cheeks charring and eyes glowing faintly.

He throws a glance backwards, teeth digging into his bottom lip as it curves into a cocksure, pleased smirk; he pins her with conceited once-over.

“If you wanted to look at it so badly, y’just had to ask. It is yours, after all.”

#demon!harry #drabble

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ohblackdiamond · 5 years

Text

the end of the world tour (kiss/endgame crossover, r) (part 1/4)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

“Peter, c’mon, you’re saying we should just waltz right in to their place and tell them what, exactly? ‘Hi, we’re KISS. We haven’t done anything heroic in forty years, but—’”

“I wouldn’t say we haven’t done anything heroic in forty years. We all got married.”

Or, four washed-up former rockstar superheroes don the spandex of old in a last-ditch effort to save an already half-gone world. They just need a little support from a billionaire who's not too keen on KISS interrupting his private life. Somewhat Endgame compliant.

Notes: Most of this probably goes without saying given the general content of this tumblr, but in case anyone MCU wanders in-- KISS has been a part of Marvel Comics since 1977, and, in fact, starred in Marvel’s first full-color, magazine-sized comic book from that same year (in an infamous publicity stunt, the band members added their own blood to the ink of the first issue). Their characterization, history, and powers vary from run to run, and to be honest, it was easier just to pull from KISS Meets the Phantom of the Park and a bit of Scooby-Doo Meets KISS for powers, and actual band history for most of the rest. (Pulling from comic history, well, would have entailed messily trying to make canon ’70’s teamups with Spider-man and the Avengers work out with MCU—impractical at best!) Mistakes are mine.

Intimations of your typical usual suspect pairings, but nothing explicit.’

Looking back, the signs had been there all along. The KISS memorabilia starting to spread out like a fungus to all parts of the mansion they’d moved into five years prior. The cold cream that had found its way back to the bathroom counters.

The abrupt shift in mood of half the household.

The gloomier half. Except that wasn’t much of a specification. Ace tried to be upbeat, but he spent the bulk of his time alone, tinkering with the fifty-year-old remnants of his spaceship, though each assurance that he was going back to Jendell (“you guys’ll come with me, it’ll be great, we’ll just stay there forever”) seemed hollower with every passing year. Gene had put on an incredibly gutsy show in public for the first several months after the decimation, donating millions to clean up efforts around the greater New York area, only to falter in private. Paul had only started recovering enough to shave regularly over the past six or seven months.

Peter wasn’t in great shape himself. He knew it, too. But he was surviving. They were all doing that much. They had a daily routine down, one they stuck to as strictly as cloistered monks. Cooking duties divvied up; chores divvied up. Shopping divvied up. They could’ve hired help easily. The battered remnants of the KISS juggernaut were still enough for generations to live off of, like a bastard version of the Vanderbilts. But doing the chores themselves gave everything a sense of purpose. Meaning.

They weren’t doing poorly for four widowers. Coping a whole lot better than most guys their age who’d lost everyone but each other.

Deep down, Peter knew they couldn’t have made it any other way. They would’ve all been driven out of their minds with grief. Just cracked up. Especially those first few months after moving in together. In a sick kind of desperation, they’d spent that time sleeping in the basement together, the four of them, on a pair of pull-out couches. The prospect of waking up alone was just that awful. The craving for normalcy just that deep. Waking up to Ace’s morning wood (Christ, the guy was sixty-eight; his ability to maintain a hard-on had to just be alien biology at this point) had become a strange, nostalgic kind of comfort.

They were still sharing rooms sometimes. It felt really juvenile, at least to Peter, crawling into one of the other guys’ rooms at night, like a kid with a nightmare, but it helped. Touch helped. Living together brought them some focus beyond themselves. Forced them to look out for each other. Keep each other from doing something stupid. Funny how without any contract or tour bullshit to worry about, they could stand each other again.

Sometimes a little more than that. Sometimes a lot.

But Peter really didn’t connect the dots for awhile. One morning, he stumbled downstairs to see Paul making pancakes from scratch. He hadn’t made any pretenses of being a chef in years, but there he was, even tossing chocolate chips and strawberries into the batter.

“I decided every day was a good day,” he said, shrugging, when Peter asked him about it.

“He got laid,” Ace had called out from the living room. Peter, staring from an abashed Paul to an oddly-silent Gene, hadn’t asked for any elaboration, figuring he had a fair idea. Well, whatever. If they wanted to go back to fooling around with each other at this late a date, at least there was plenty of Viagra and K-Y to be had.

A few days later, Gene bought about three gallons of ice cream, an exorbitant amount of toppings, and a stash of his Moneybags signature root beer and they all spent the afternoon making and devouring sundaes and floats. Nobody bitched about lactose intolerance. Then they’d sat around and watched Godzilla movies on DVD and played each other on the old KISS pinball machine. It was like old times—really old times.

Peter had just figured things were finally starting to settle into a new normal. A devastating normal, sure, but they were all learning to cope.

He had no idea the coping methods they’d picked involved a lot more than self-help platitudes and dairy products, and a lot less Viagra.

Not until about a month later, on his assigned day to do the shopping—though they were all more flexible on who did the shopping than any other aspect of their chore board. Paul still hated to go anywhere by himself, invariably dragging someone else with him. Usually Gene, sometimes Ace. On his own days, Peter usually tried to invite Ace along, just to get him out of the backyard, even though Ace’s penchant for Arizona Green Tea still far outstripped the supply at the closest grocery store, and Peter would still have to make a dozen weird maneuvers around the place just so they’d avoid the liquor.

This time, though, Peter went alone. Stuffed the old Porsche full of a mix of canned and dried goods, mostly. Still the easiest, cheapest stuff to find, with or without the world half-gone. Almost bizarre to see things start to get in demand again. The first few days—the first few months, after, the grocery store had been hell to go to. Just the smell of all that food rotting for want of people to buy it. The look of it, mold everywhere, flies buzzing, maggots crawling—and not as many as all that.

A fifty-fifty split in all forms of life. Existence was just a coin toss.

He’d pulled into the driveway and gotten out, lugging a couple grocery bags out with him as he headed toward the door, pushing the doorbell with his elbow. No answer.

Another push. Nothing.

Ace was probably out back somewhere. Paul and Gene were probably upstairs, too close to deaf to have heard him away from the main floor. Goddammit. Peter sighed and set down one of the grocery bags, digging through his pockets for the house key, pulling it out and unlocking the door, only to be greeted by an odd, clinking sound and a low groan as he stepped inside.

“Gene?”

Peter dropped the grocery bags and hurried towards the noise, mouth pursed. No panicking. He couldn’t afford to panic. Still, it could be anything. Gene never had taken care of himself that well—sure, he’d never done drugs, but he had the diet of an emancipated six-year-old—prime candidate for a heart attack, for sure—

“…. What’re you…”

“Peter?”

Gene was lying on his back on the kitchen tile, mostly-obscured by the girl straddling him. She was leaning forward, blonde hair like streamers over his face as she kissed him, his hands clasping her wrists, holding them above his head, against the floor. Her white dress was bunched up enough it was obvious there was nothing beneath.

It was a scene Peter had first witnessed out of Gene around 1974, and it hadn’t gotten any more appealing in forty-five years. Just a lot more curious. No, fucking bewildering. Normally, Gene was—had been—infamous for stripping off as few clothes as possible in his rush to get to the main event. It was like the man thought a groupie couldn’t wait for him to get his jeans more than five inches past his hips. But this time was beyond bizarre. Gene wasn’t in his usual jeans and cowboy boots and button-down. He was in costume.

More specifically, he was in every ignoble inch of his Destroyer costume, except for the codpiece. His black leotard was hiked down to the tops of his scaly, silver monster boots, chest armor stretched over his torso, black leather gauntlets on. The last time Peter had seen any of that particular outfit, Clinton was still president.

The blonde gave him a brief look, then Gene, who whispered something Peter couldn’t quite hear. Then she started rolling her hips against his again, Gene dropping his hold on her wrists to cup his hands around her face, her hair sweeping over them both, preventing Peter from getting a great look at either of them. Peter just stared, unsure of whether his eyes could afford a closer vantage point.

“Really, Gene?”

“I’m—ngh, doing my duty as an American citizen here.”

“Your duty?”

“FER. Federal Emergency Repopulation.” Gene paused, glancing at the blonde. “If he’s bothering you, we can take it upstairs—"

“Jesus Christ, Gene, you’re seventy years old! And why the fuck are you in the costume?”

“Well, that aspect wasn’t really up to me.”

“Gene, sit the fuck up and look at me.”

“Peter—”

Gene raised up a few inches as every bit of color drained out from Peter’s face.

He looked better than he had in forty years. No, that wasn’t right. He looked like he had forty years ago. The Demon makeup couldn’t obscure it. The lines around his eyes and forehead were gone. The fullness that age and weight had left in his face and neck and chest had vanished utterly. He looked healthy. He looked young, terrifyingly young.

“Gene, what the hell did you do?”

“I—"

Before Peter could manage a single syllable, a loud, shrill cry from upstairs interrupted everything.

“Paul?”

“Oh, shit. Let’s not continue this upstairs.” Gene’s attention was back on the blonde, who rolled her hips up against his invitingly. “Better check on Paul, Pe—ohh, fuck, yeah…”

Peter darted upstairs, yanking open the door to Paul’s room to find almost the exact same scenario. One he hadn’t seen in decades. Paul, halfway in costume, rhinestone-covered black jumpsuit hanging somewhere around his hips, with a girl up against the wall, her bare legs wrapped around his waist. Three hip replacements, two knee replacements, and at least one rotator cuff replacement and yet Paul didn’t seem to be having any issues holding her there. Or plowing her.

Probably because he, too, looked to be about forty years younger.

---

Half an hour later, both girls were gone and Paul and Gene were back to a semblance of normal. The makeup had, weirdly, lingered when they’d reverted back—Peter couldn’t remember that ever happening when they were actively in the superhero business—though neither of them seemed particularly surprised by that, just a bit disappointed. Paul had darted over to the bathroom to get some cold cream and washcloths, like that would head Peter off at the pass, before returning to sit down at the table with Gene and Peter.

Peter was still fuming.

“Look, Peter, I can explain—” Gene started.

“You don’t need to. It’s obvious. You used the talismans.”

“Well, yeah.” Paul looked about as apologetic as a kid who hadn’t been caught until after eating the entire bag of Oreos.

“I didn’t know they could do that.”

“We didn’t, either.”

“Bullshit, that’s the only reason you were fucking—”

“No, really! We got them out for old time’s sake a couple months ago.”

“It makes sense, I mean, mystical artifacts from Victor Von Doom’s mom, supposed to reveal the true self of the holder…” Paul trailed.

“True self, my ass. Your true self is a bottle of Aquanet.”

Gene was starting to smirk. Paul elbowed him in the ribs.

“So you decided you were gonna use the talismans of Khyscz to make yourselves younger so you could fuck random girls. Christ. I knew you didn’t have any dignity, but—” Peter paused, unsure of how to even state the rest of his tirade. For once.

It was just too damn bizarre. They’d left that shit behind years ago. Decades ago. Their last real superhero stints had been in cancer wards, letting kids with lymphoma and leukemia jam with them from their beds and wheelchairs. Their first had been—well, they’d caught some burglars in the Bronx and Queens a couple of times, between band practice, before they were even signed to a record company. Once they’d started touring, they’d tried to keep the double lives up, and for awhile, it had worked to their advantage. People didn’t know whether seeing KISS on the street meant a concert was coming to town or a gang was about to get busted. And the merchandising…. Christ, what a frenzy. The public had eaten it up. Lunchboxes and the pinball machine had only been the beginning.

The biggest criminal they’d ever stopped was some amusement park tyrant, Abner Devereaux. Naturally, they’d turned it into a movie a year later. Hadn’t even been allowed to put most of their powers on display for fear of wrecking the sets and camera equipment. Paul couldn’t fire off any laser beams; Ace’s teleporting barely got a mention. Peter was lucky they didn’t try to trim his claws down. Even Gene’s fire-breathing had to be faked for the camera. He’d had to swill kerosene in his mouth and just spit at the torch like he was from the circus.

Really humiliating, looking back, but they hadn’t quite realized it. The movie had seemed like a natural next step. They were giving the fans what they wanted. A superhero group that could do anything, be anything. Role models. Rockstars. Sex symbols. Entrepreneurs. The four most recognizable faces in the world, faces of a corporation worth a hundred million. Not bad for 1978. Not Stark Industries levels, but not bad.

But the movie had started the blowback. No one under twelve even watched the damn thing. The press was coming out with hit pieces on the daily. Headlines like “Shilling Superheroes” and “Crimefighting Doesn’t Pay—But Capitalism Does” started dotting the supermarket stands. When they retreated back into making records, the bottom had already dropped out. KISS didn’t come off as superheroes or even musicians anymore, just a bunch of guys out for a quick buck. No amount of charity work—and certainly not a long stretch of tail-between-their-legs touring in Australia and Europe, where their superhero antics weren’t as big a part of their mystique—could’ve brought them back from that.

Peter had left KISS before things completely crashed. Been fired, more accurately. What that’d mean for the dwindling state of their superhero gig should’ve been obvious, but looking back, Peter couldn’t remember thinking about it or anyone even mentioning it when he’d left. Ace hadn’t talked about it when he quit the band a couple years later, either. KISS still performed with the outfits and makeup for awhile after. But the crimefighting was over. Any superhuman powers were done with. Gene ended up having to spit kerosene to breathe fire onstage for the rest of his career. The talismans just wouldn’t work without the four of them as some kind of unit.

Apparently, their current living arrangement counted as some kind of unit. Good enough for the talismans. And apparently, the talismans didn’t even care whether Paul and Gene were using them for the right reasons. Peter shoved his hands through his hair before slamming his palm against the table. True to form, Paul and Gene didn’t even blink. Gene, in fact, took it as an opportunity to continue.

“We thought it’d be a better sell to FER if we could offer them something a little more exciting than—”

“Than a bunch of old assholes.”

“More or less, yeah.” Paul rubbed at the star on his eye with a dollop of cold cream, carefully. “It’s not any kind of PR stunt. Just makes for better lays and healthier sperm.”

“We’ve had 53 successful pregnancies just over the last two months,” Gene offered. His phone buzzed, and he picked it up. “Make that 54.”

“54? Was that mine or yours?”

“Mine. That was, uh…” Gene scrolled up on his phone. “Tori Friedmann. Remember, the one with the tattoos right around her hips?”

“Gene, I didn’t see her anywhere near naked.”

“She had her hair dyed green. It was in ringlets.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah…” Paul trailed, before turning his attention back to Peter. “We’re really helping things out.”

“Helping things out?” Gene snorted. “Don’t be modest. We’ve got the best track record for pregnancies in the entire state of Connecticut. Eighty percent success rate after four sessions or less. Amazing.”

“Who’s supposed to be raising—” Peter started, but he was cut off almost immediately by a laugh.

“Seriously? The government’s paying the girls out the nose. Prenatal up through college. All we had to do was participate.” Gene shifted, pushed his washcloth into the jar of cold cream, and started wiping off his face. “Of course, FER pays the guys doing it, too, but it’s not our main motivation.”

“Why the hell aren’t you jacking it into a cup? What’s so wrong about artificial insemination? Is FER Catholic?”

“This world’s starved for the human touch. Sex drives are lower than the Dow right now.” Gene cleared his throat, tilted his head as if he were about to start on an interview-worthy set of sound bites. “Now, what we’re offering is only what KISS has always offered, an escape, a fantasy. But we sell it better than any fucking band before or since. We lift those girls up.”

“Yeah, I saw Paul lifting that girl up—” Peter started. Paul looked only a tinge embarrassed. “You could’ve been her grandfather, for Christ’s sake.”

“Hey, they know exactly who they’re getting with,” said Gene. “We aren’t pretending we’re a tribute band. And we cheer them up, Peter. Some of them haven’t slept with anyone in five years. Some of them haven’t touched anyone in five years. They forgot how to even be alive. We’re reminding them.”

“You’re selling your sperm, Gene, don’t act like it’s some grand gesture.” Peter paused. “Is Ace in on this, too?”

“I think Ace got in about four lays, but then he felt bad about it…”

“Because he’s got a conscience?”

“No, because he’s an alien. I mean, the girls kind of got off on it, I think, but…” Paul shrugged, finding a clean corner of his washcloth, patting away the traces of cold cream. “He thought Earth ought to be repopulated by regular humans.”

“He didn’t care about that when we were touring.” God knew how many girls Ace had knocked up with half-Jendellian spawn back in the seventies. His kid with Jeanette, Monique, hadn’t ever exhibited anything weird that Peter had seen, but then again, Ace was pretty good at keeping his own alien oddities under wraps. At least in public. Online tabloids and shit still said he was a normal guy from the Bronx that had just watched too much Star Trek in high school. If he hadn’t toured off and on with the guy for years, and if the remnants of his spaceship weren’t currently in their backyard, Peter might’ve believed it, too.

“Yeah, but when we were touring, the world wasn’t in an apocalypse.” Another corner of the washcloth and Paul was wiping off his eyeliner. “I dunno. I told him if they didn’t care, he shouldn’t, either. It’s not like his dick is any different.”

“He’ll change his mind. Probably.” Gene set down the washcloth, face reddish but bare. He looked so appallingly confident that Peter almost wanted to punch him. No, he did want to punch him. Clearly, the repopulation gig had been Gene’s idea. Paul was far too depressed these days to be such an opportunist on his own, and Ace… Ace, clearly, just had gone along with it. Neither of them had ever been half as desperate for a lay as Gene, either. Peter settled for pushing back his chair and leaning over the table, yanking Gene by both arms.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Pete—”

“Don’t you even remember what we were supposed to use the talismans for?”

“Sure. Saving the world.” Gene tugged his arms out of Peter’s grasp. Utterly unmoved. He didn’t even have to stand up in order to wrench him away. It just made Peter all the more incensed. The blitheness of it. Shit, Gene used to care. Paul used to care.

“Fucking girls for some government program isn’t saving the world!”

“Then what the hell do you suggest? We’re a little fucking limited with half the population gone.”

“Fixing this mess!”

“How?” Paul started to laugh. “If the Avengers aren’t touching it, what makes you think we should?”

“When did that stop us before, huh? We were there before they even existed!”

“Most of them,” Gene put in dryly. “Captain America’s old enough that he could’ve even fathered you, Pete.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Peter rattled off. “Fuck both of you. You’ve finally got a real opportunity here and you’re too damn sorry to take it.”

“A real opportunity? You’re telling us about opportunities?” Paul snorted. “I should’ve known all you’d do was bitch and whine as soon as you found out. Mr. Misery never did fucking retire. Can’t let anybody else be even a little happy—”

“You’re not happy, asshole!”

The sound of the backdoor swinging open swallowed up any other comments. Ace, standing there in a ratty screenprinted Betty Boop t-shirt and jeans, looking sweaty and vaguely perturbed.

“Y’know, contrary to popular belief, I’m still not deaf.”

Peter spun around to face him.

“Ace! You knew what these bastards were doing this whole time and you didn’t tell me!”

Ace raised his palm in what might’ve been surrender, then shut the door behind him. He didn’t cross over to the dining room where the others were seated, surprisingly—just headed straight for the kitchen.

“Sit down, Pete. ’M gonna get us some water.”

Peter sat down. He wasn’t mollified, not in the slightest, but he stayed quiet until Ace returned, four water bottles in hand. Gene and Paul didn’t say anything, either. The only real sound was Paul screwing the lid back on the jar of cold cream.

Ace pushed a water bottle towards each of them before sitting down next to Peter. Peter eyed him warily. It felt like a band meeting, the tension thick as concrete, only for once, they weren’t arguing over solos or setlists. And Bill Aucoin, of course, wasn’t there to make sure they shook hands and shared a joint by the end. Not quite the kind of nostalgia Peter craved.

“Okay, so,” Ace started, conversationally, “I get why you’re pissed off, man.”

“You should’ve told me—”

“I tried! I told you Paul got laid! But you didn’t wanna hear anymore.”

“That’s because I thought he was back to fucking around with Gene!”

“I did not—" Paul’s face was going from pallid to pink to red at an alarming rate. Beside him, Gene was rubbing his forehead with a wince. “Look, let’s just address the issue at hand.”

“You’re right,” Peter snapped back. “Ace, listen. What they’re doing’s fucked-up.”

“Peter, we’re all still in kind of a bad place right now, I dunno if it’s the time to—”

“It’s not the time to be trying to repopulate like—like tigers in the zoo.” Peter exhaled. “Not when we could be doing a lot more. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you assholes.”

Ace unscrewed Peter’s water bottle before opening his own. He took a long swallow, then let out a sigh.

“Just wait. I’ll be getting us to Jendell in another three months, easy. Then we won’t have to worry about any of this shit.”

“That’s been your answer the last five years, Ace! You can’t fix your ship! We all know we’re not getting off this planet!”

“I mean it this time! I really got it cracked. Three months or less.” Ace took another swallow of water. “It’ll be great. My ma—aw, man, you’ll love her. She’s great. I tried sending her our records once we got big, I still had this little portable, y’know, for shipping off small stuff, don’t know if she ever got it…”

“Still having family must be great, Ace.”

Ace flinched visibly.

“I haven’t seen her in fifty years, man, I don’t know for sure. We’re all in the same boat there.”

“We’re fucking not, Ace. You just proved it.” Peter swallowed thickly. It was a lower blow than he’d meant to take. But he couldn’t help it. Fifty-fifty shot, and they’d all managed to lose. All that grief the sickest, saddest equalizer. Gigi had beaten cancer. Monique had been clean for a couple years now. Gene’s kids had careers… Paul’s youngest three weren’t out of elementary school. All of them a million times more deserving of being alive than they were. Peter’s gut roiled, and he grabbed his water bottle, forcing several gulps down just to quell the lump in his throat. He still had to take a few more breaths before he was half-positive his voice wouldn’t quaver too much, and by then, Paul had already begun talking again.

“Okay, okay. Let’s say we wanted to do something. Where would we even start? What would we even be fighting against?”

“I don’t know.”

“Exactly. Now—”

“I know where we’d start.”

Pete’s gaze shot over to Gene. He couldn’t keep the bare, hopeful note out of his voice.

“Where?”

“Avengers headquarters. That or Stark’s place.” At Paul’s indignant glance, Gene shrugged. “What, it’s obvious. And it’s only a hypothetical. For all we know, they could be working on the solution right now.”

“They’re not doing a damn thing,” Paul insisted.

“How do we know that, though?” Ace said it slowly. “I mean, really. They haven’t given everything up. The Hulk’s still around… you get reports of some of the other guys sometimes, taking down drug cartels, that sort of thing…”

“So it’s worth a shot!”

“Peter, c’mon, you’re saying we should just waltz right in to their place and tell them what, exactly? ‘Hi, we’re KISS. We haven’t done anything heroic in forty years, but—’”

“I wouldn’t say we haven’t done anything heroic in forty years. We all got married.”

“You know what I mean, Gene.” Paul paused. “You really think they’re gonna buy that? You really think they won’t laugh in our faces?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Paul let out a long sigh and gave Gene a look of utter betrayal Peter hadn’t fully witnessed since the disastrous Reunion Tour about twenty years back. The I-kept-this-band-alive look. The why-don’t-you-ever-listen-to-me look. The I-told-you-KISS-condoms-were-a-bad-idea look. Gene just shook his head in return.

“It’s worth a shot. The worst they could say is no.” Gene took a swig of water. “And if they do, so what? My ego can take it. We can go back to helping with repopulation efforts here in New Haven.” He paused. “Actually, we could probably introduce the Avengers to the program, I’m sure the country could use some super-sperm to—”

“God, no.”

Ace started laughing. Really laughing, that awful, unsettling, but infectious cackle that used to embarrass the rest of them during interviews. Peter caught sight of Gene’s lips twitching and then he lost it himself. Totally helpless. Paul had his hand over his mouth, but Peter was pretty sure he was laughing behind it.

It had been so long since they’d found anything funny. So long since they’d had any kind of idea in mind beyond surviving from day to day. Sure, Paul wasn’t sold on it, and Peter wasn’t sure if Ace was, either, not exactly, but—they were getting there. There was energy there, buzzing through his veins, making him feel fidgety and anxious and alive, really alive, for the first time in five years. He knew it was the same for the others. All the four-who-are-one superhero mysticism they’d tried to blow off as bullshit as tempers had flared in the studio and onstage and in their hotel rooms—shit, there was something to it. There had to have been or they wouldn’t still be together now.

“All right, fine, we won’t advertise it,” Gene finally said, once the laughter had died down. “If they went on the market, we’d probably be out of luck. But if we head to Manhattan… that’ll take us, what, couple hours if we drive, depending on how many highways they’ve finally cleaned up…”

“I’m not driving,” Peter said flatly.

“We could teleport,” Ace offered. “If you got better coordinates than just Manhattan, anyway.”

“Right, yeah, we could—” Gene considered. “Actually, I think we might be better off heading to Stark’s directly.”

“Why?”

“Because he holds the purse strings. And because he’s the one person out of all of them I’ve actually spoken to.” Gene was nodding to himself. “I don’t think he lives in the city anymore, but I’m sure we can—"

“I didn’t agree to any of this.”

“Paul, c’mon. It’s not hurting anything.”

“It’s been forty years. We’re gonna be laughed out of town.”

“Yeah, but we’ve been laughed out of town since we started. ’S fine.” Ace looked over at Paul, mouth uncharacteristically pursed, on the verge of dissolving into giggles again. Peter could tell by the way Ace had his hand cupped around his thigh, underneath the table. He couldn’t remember the last time Ace had done that to him. Peter reached out to put his hand on top of Ace’s, absently tapping against the rings. Ace crooked a slow smile, and half-spoke, half-warbled, “Y’know, we’ve got nothing to lose…”

“That song was about anal, not stomping up to the Avengers headquarters asking for a job application.”

“Same difference. Well, one’s a little sexier.”

“This isn’t a joke, Ace. It’s just stupid.” Paul exhaled, staring at each of them in turn before shaking his head. “God, why the hell am I even still entertaining this shit?”

He started to get up, only for Gene to grab his arm before he’d done much more than push his chair back. Paul sat back down, glare fixed on his face.

“Paul, c’mon. We can’t do this without you.” Gene hadn’t let go of his arm yet, but Paul wasn’t relaxing into the touch. “What’s the real issue here? Are you that afraid of being turned down?”

“Let go of me,” Paul rattled off impatiently, brushing at Gene’s arm. “And no, I’m not. I—fuck, I can’t—”

“Can’t what?”

“What if you’re wrong? What if they aren’t trying? What if busting up drug cartels is all the Avengers are good for these days, too?” Paul tried to laugh but couldn’t seem to manage it, coughing, then draining the rest of his bottled water. “Nothing to lose—like hell we have nothing to lose. If we go over there, and we find out this world really is all we have left, no… no do-overs, no—saving anybody, no bringing anyone back… then that’s it. We’re done. We’ve got nothing anymore. Not even hope.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Peter watched as Gene reached over again, clasping Paul’s wrist before, almost hesitantly, taking his hand. Paul winced, but didn’t pull back. “We’ve got something left. We’re KISS. We’re family.”

“Gene—”

“And that’s not going to change, all right? Don’t get me wrong. It’ll hurt like hell if they say there’s nothing that can be done.” Gene paused. “But that doesn’t make it true. Look, whatever life ever had in store, we’ve kept going. We’ll keep going regardless.”

Paul didn’t say anything for awhile. Long enough that Ace had stopped just resting his hand on Peter’s thigh and started actively trying to pick the lint off his slacks instead. Peter batted his hand away, then, before Paul finally spoke back up.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. I’m in, I’ll do it.” Gene was still holding Paul’s hand. Neither had let go yet. “But don’t get too excited. And don’t think we’re just gonna pop over there tomorrow.” Paul finally tugged his hand away, but not until after a brief squeeze.

“We’re not? Oh, c’mon, Paulie, if I get some coordinates, I know I can teleport us there!”

“Because,” Paul said, grinning almost wolfishly, “we’re gonna train first.”

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #peter criss #paul stanley #gene simmons #ace frehley

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demiroirs · 5 years

Text

LITTLE CHARACTER THINGS

just a fun little character game. fill in the below categories with 3-5 things that your character can be identified by. repost & tag away !

tagged by: @white-reaper tagging: this is like 5000 years old lmao

EMOTIONS / FEELINGS:

001. alienation / loneliness

002. compassion / altruism

003. determination / passion

004. warmth / kindness

005. uncertainty / doubtfulness

GREETINGS:

001. a genial smile and a nod, mostly reserved for strangers or acquaintances

002. a wave accompanied with a verbal greeting

003. shaking hands, the more formal of his various methods

004. kisses on either cheek (unsurprisingly reserved for Hiraga)

005. glaring, unwavering eye contact when in the company of someone not well liked

COLORS:

001. emerald green

002. dark blue

003. coppery brown

004. sunflower yellow

005. off-white

SCENTS:

001. old books / papers ; I’ve said it time and time again, but Roberto adores the smell of old books and inks, and his quarters being as crammed with books as they are tend to have the scent of which.

002. fruity red wine ; he loves helping himself to a drop of wine in the evenings and often drinks it at the meals he prepares or even during the preparation of which.

003. salt on the sea breeze ; something he doesn’t get to enjoy terribly often, but that he enjoys nonetheless from the times he has been to the beaches that lay outside the city of Rome.

004. cooking ; Roberto is an excellent chef and often spends time cooking for himself and Hiraga. Some of his dishes include Carbonara, Risotto, Seafood Paella, and Penne Arrabiata.

005. musk ; he is described as having a very pleasant, sweet, musky scent that apparently the ladies enjoy quite a bit (ironically)

CLOTHING:

001. clergy-wear ; you will usually find him dressed in his cassock, gloves and stole throughout the day when he is attending the Vatican or else is on duty. oddly enough, it seems he sleeps in his white undershirt and black trousers when out on missions, likely because he doesn’t seem to sleep much and dozes off still in his day clothes.

002. casual-wear ; in the event he does seriously dress down on occasions, plaid is a prominent part of his wardrobe, along with plain trousers and jackets. green and brown are the most recurring colours he wears casually.

003. suits / formal-wear ; on the flipside, Roberto can also be quite the elegantly dressed man, often choosing to wear tailored clothes, including dress shirts, waistcoats and suit jackets accented with accessories like cravats and lapel pins.

004. riding gear ; a fun personal headcanon of mine born from a few humours discussions is the fact he can and occasionally will ride a motorcycle if a car is unavailable, and thus has the full outfit of black riding leathers to match.

005. sleep-wear ; if he doesn’t doze off wearing his undershirt and trousers, then he is more inclined to strip down to his boxers and sleep that way rather than changing into dedicated sleeping clothes.

OBJECTS:

001. monocle / quizzing glass ; used each and every time he sits down to study some texts, though he seems to require and occasionally wear glasses as well

002. bible ; to be expected perhaps, but of all the books Roberto owns, naturally the bible is the one he is seen carrying around him with most frequently

003. golden bookmarks ; left behind in notebooks by his boarding school friend Josef with a code to ‘communicate’ with him after death.

004. hair gel ; Roberto minds his appearance and particularly his hair very carefully, being described as ‘checking it from every angle’ before he leaves home.

005. wood block prints ; he keeps an entire display case of various Asian arts in his house, wood block prints being one of many

VICES / BAD HABITS: [ click on the words for a nice list about Vices ]

001. impulsive / self-destructive ; for a multitude of reasons, Roberto is prone to leaping head first into danger when it comes to a fight-or-flight scenario, which may not always be the wisest option and is often done at the expense of protecting his partner before thinking about protecting himself.

002. sarcastic ; though Roberto is generally a kind and cheerful individual, he has been known to be quite dry and sarcastic and is not above teasing others or making quips about them

003. meddling ; he is described as being ‘too helpful’ and will at times assert himself into situations almost instinctively--though this too usually relates to Hiraga and his underwhelming life skills that Roberto intentionally remedies with his own abilities

004. self-deprecating ; Roberto seems to think very little of himself at times due to the way he grew up and his own personal insecurities that were bred thereby--this is in large part to blame for his self destructive tendencies.

005. stubborn ; once he sets his heart on something, the devil himself couldn’t stop him. he is unstoppably tenacious, which is not always a good thing.

BODY LANGUAGE:

001. hand on the hip ; confident, slightly sassy, bold and open

002. folded arms ; defensive, self-embracing, comfort seeking

003. arms outstretched ; gesticulating, excitement, declarative

004. grasping his own chin ; thoughtful, pondering, considering

005. clasping his hands behind his back ; respect, modesty, humbling

AESTHETICS:

001. old libraries and shelves filled to the brim with books

002. lazy, early morning sunlight enjoyed in bed

003. the city of Rome by moonlight, viewed from an open window

004. rain and mist offsetting the warm colours of autumn

005. old, historical buildings and architecture with stories to tell

SONGS:

001. Erode - Tender

002. Precious - Depeche Mode

003. Kings - The Pierces

004. The Wolves - Ben Howard

005. Spit It Out - IAMX

#☩ ∴ SIN SPEAKING ∵ OOC #[when robs muse was new i hadnt figured all this out NOW ROBS MUSE IS 2 YEARS OLD LOL WHERE D O E S THE TIME GO]#[THAT MY BOY]#[god im having a huge nostalgia stiffy rn for watching this series every week WHAT A JOURNEY]#[and then the novels boy them novels are sure somethin aint they]#[AESTHETIIIIIIIIIIC]

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hyacinthsgirl · 5 years

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meet the mun

Repost do not reblog !!

Tagged by: @obscuritcs Tagging: you!

LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE - Name: Zick - Eye Color: Brown with a hint of dark green - Hair Style/color: Short, messy, faux hawk-ish; ash blond - Height: 178 cm - Clothing style: It depends on the day. I swing from punk/goth and the like outfits to very dandy outfits (fancy jackets and waistcoats included). Sometimes I mix both and it’s [ insert chef kiss here ] - Best physical feature: My hair and my height. Being a giant means I can hug all my friends in the best way possible

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE - Your fears: Heights, dogs (we’re working on this one), rejection, being made fun of or thought of as ‘weird’ because of my interests (it did happen a lot in the past) - Your guilty pleasure: Nightcore - Ambitions for the future: Becoming a literary translator or (AH) a writer; perhaps living abroad;

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS - Your first thoughts waking up: "Shut up” (@ my alarm clock) - What you think about before bed: One of the hundreds of AUs and scenarios I have to write down sooner or later.

LAYER FOUR: WHAT’S BETTER? - Single or group dates: Single, group dates would make me hella anxious - To be loved or respected: Both, but being respected is slightly more important in a relationship. But to be honest, I doubt you can love someone without respecting them at the same time - Beauty or brains: Brains - Dogs or cats: Cats!

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU. - Lie: I omit things to my family often, but not to my friends, and I never lie about extremely important things - Believe in yourself: It depends on the day - Believe in love: I guess? - Want someone: I don’t know my dude

LAYER SIX: EVER? - Been on stage: Multiple times, actually! I’ve been in a few drama clubs, plus I took burlesque classes for two years and performed in four shows - Done drugs: Nope - Changed who you were to fit in: I might have in high school because I had shitty friends there for two years, but if I did I never changed drastically. If anything, I smothered some parts of myself so that I wouldn’t be made fun of I was made fun of anyway

LAYER SEVEN: FAVORITES - Favorite color: Black - Favorite animal: Cat - Favorite movie: The Nightmare Before Christmas - Favorite game: The Batman: Arkham series, Bendy and the Ink Machine, The Binding of Isaac (no, i couldn’t pick just one); for the category of board games, Cards Against Humanity.

LAYER EIGHT: AGE - Day your next birthday will be: April 23rd - How old will you be: 25 - Does age matter: It depends on the context and (in some cases) on people’s mental maturity, regardless of their actual age

#ZICK: not the chosen one.

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egoiistas · 6 years

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06172018 hanahaki

a/n A TOTALLY PLANNED COLLAB with my favorite @b-griveros for royaiweek! The known hanahaki disease au because we all know royai + angst is just *italian chef kiss* Hope you enjoy!

Riza Hawkeye’s fingers curve around her throat, clutching it as she coughs erratically. Her eyes feel one strain away from popping out of their sockets and her fingernails dig into the bark of the tree, holding herself up as she gasped for breath.

She regains the ability to breathe freely when a single lily petal sits prettily in center of her palm. It’s fragile and dainty - the shade of a girl’s blush. It looks like something that could have grown in her mother’s garden were it still alive.

Behind her, the grass blades shift, warning her of the approaching apprentice. Her fist closes swiftly and her heart turns into a thrashing animal, beating against its cage at the sight of him. She had left him, abandoned him in the middle of their walk her family’s acres, and escaped when the uncomfortable rattling started in her chest. Blushing, Riza knows it erupted from an innocent comment, a compliment about the color of her dress. How it suited her that summer day.

She doesn’t have to wonder why she encased a crush petal in her hand, blossoming from something he isn’t returning. Roy Mustang talks to her even though she’s quiet. He listens to her for she has words to say, and grows closer as her friend by the day despite her endeavors to avoid him.

He asks if she was okay.He looks so concerned she could melt where she stood or disappear like caught dandelion in the wind, leaving behind only her dress.

Riza doesn’t need feelings for her father’s apprentice, but she has them.

She keeps it under control. She hides whenever the urge to cough presented itself. He’s none the wiser.

Riza keeps her distance, or at least, she tries to. In the breaks between lessons with her father, he looks for her, inevitably finds her, and enthusiastically tells her about the new discoveries her father would never share with her.

She loves the energy of his conversation and begins to love him more for it. It tickles in her chest, watching him in his zeal, and radiates a pleasant warmth like the first sip from a fresh cup of tea in a chilly morning, reaching all the way to her toes. Except, as it’s prolonged, it starts to weigh heavily and expands like weeds, scratching her throat, making it coarse and itchy. No amount of swallowing or drink quells it. The feeling of something flimsy stuck in her windpipe. She would cough, wheeze, and then she would feel it spiral out of control. Her feelings, not the cough. Though she supposes that they are connected. It causes her to leave, apologizing until she was safe in another room - leaving him to worry on his own. The petals would burst into the air before her.

If only she could tell him.

The day he leaves she wants the burn every petal. By then the taste of lilies is a part of her tongue; it’s mingled in with every food, beverage, and breath. She’s produced enough to make a nursery, but they will not go away to her dismay. Quite the opposite, they grow larger in quantity.

Uncontrollable and sudden fits of coughing would cover the room. She could be in town talking to the butcher or the baker and someone would ask for Roy and she would barely have the time to excuse herself to fill an alleyway full of petals.

She hardly found the space amongst the flowers to breathe.

And when the inking begins, her father realizes then, because who else? He admonishes her, mocks her as broken flowers scatter on the wooden floors and she struggles to fill her lungs with air. All she wants is a fresh breath of air, like the crisp nip of a fall morning. Her anger and anguish ridicules her father for only realizing now, after so so many years. It asks of him, how little did he care for his daughter, the only reminder of his late wife, that he didn’t even notice something blooming under his nose? How detached and deranged did he become, after all these years, if he thought of a natural blossoming as an anomaly?

The soreness of her cheek subsides after few days. The swelling of her back takes longer.

He comes back with a pristine outfit: Amestrian Blues that were crisp, well fitting, and with shorter hair. He returns as though he never left, as if the absence of two years were nothing but a negligible whisper of time.

Her father, bedridden for months now, doesn’t want to want to listen to what he has to say. Mr. Mustang knew of Berthold Hawkeye’s feelings before his departure, before ending his tutelage. He might as well set fire to the house with both of them in it the moment he walked out the front door.

Selfish. Self-centered. Riza thinks, coughs.

However, her father still gives him audience, more than he’d ever give Riza, and for a moment, she’s envious of him again. The first time had been for the liberty he had to walk away. This time, because she arrives at the conclusion that her father harbors more affection, no matter how scant, for his apprentice than he ever has had for her.

Cruel. Merciless.

That envy subsides when her only family dies. Chrysanthemum petals, rich in red, scatters in his study, on every surface: the floors, the desk, his protege. It’s mingled with blood.

Chrysanthemum. The loss of a love.

In front of his grave, paid for by Mr. Mustang, she discovers her father was only an enigma. She never knew him at all. Two people living under the same roof, that’s all it was; hardly considered a family.

But he was. That energy she loved so much comes back as they stand before her father’s grave. She doesn’t want to die from this. She wants to tell him.

Riza exposes two secrets in the days to come; the tattoo and the flowers. He asks her about the latter while analyzing the former. An opportunity presenting itself to her, stepping into the sunshine.It could be gone with only three words should he return it. She could feel the freedom like a bird’s spreading its wings, ready for flight.

But her heart thrashes and in her anxiety and habit of hiding, she lies about it. A gentleman, she murmurs. From her postsecondary education.

Riza Hawkeye learns her name means more in the military academy. It’s taken a different definition. It’s no longer her father’s name, it’s her name. She’s made it for herself. The Hawk’s Eye becomes a source of pride for her prodigious ability in marksmanship.

In her hope to see him again, her health deteriorates just like in the days of his absence. She receives news of going to front lines in the sandy battlefield. The Flame Alchemist would be there. But the desert is coarse and dry, like her throat the first time she saw the petal.

After the first body, the Hawk’s Eye changes into a curse. After the first dozen, she hopes - prays to the Ishvalan god for the disease to take her, to rid of her of this hell. If he is here, if he truly is here, then he is exacting the opposite of his promises. Of their dreams.

Her body goes cold when he walks into her crosshairs. Riza fires the shot that takes a life to save his and she coughs horrendously, unendingly. Her throat feels like there are tiny cuts as the flowers exit her fully blossomed, in multiples.

The room atop the dilapidated watchtower transforms into a flower shop. With colors of whites and pink, it’s a beautiful sight for a place so desolate and dead. She appreciates the ones stained with her blood even more. Her eyes water as she’s choking and she’s no longer sure what kind of tears they are or what they’re for.

Unable to breathe, she thinks it would be fitting, so fitting, to surrender her life there. She begs for it, bargains for it.

The wind picks up her petals and doesn’t take her life with it. A pity. But now, Riza inhales and her lungs welcome more oxygen than she’s had in years.

When she picks up her rifle, he enters her crosshairs again and her gift of fire sparks from his fingers. Her trust burns alongside the innocents, crying with anguish and despair as the scent of their death reaches all the way to her perch.

Riza watches him far too long. In her earpiece, her spotter sounds concerned, but she can hardly hear. Her heart starts racing and booming in her head, sore throat constricting, when he looks straight into her scope. A fear overtakes her, that she might be attacked by an onslaught of flowers again. But she doesn’t.

Her chest, her lungs feel freed, like she’s expelled everything that’s she’s carried for years. She’s liberated and Riza rejoices for a moment; her feelings eradicated.

Or maybe she’s emptied.

The killer can’t tell them apart. She doesn’t really know freedom, as if it were a friend. Maybe she’s only flown from one birdcage and into another; from rundown manor to battletorn tower. Her post is over and she exits her cage.

He inevitably finds her.

And he has a cough, she notices. Riza’s sharp eyes catch it before he conceals it. But he doesn’t lie. He can’t; it’s written on his face, holding it in his hands.

A lily petal.

#royaiweek18 #roy mustang #riza hawkeye #royai #fullmetal alchemist #fma fanfiction #*shine #*collab

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