#and sometimes he struggles to tell if he really wants to wear the shoes

[howlsofbloodhounds]

I think it’d be kinda funny if whenever a soul talks to or influences color, it takes the format of something like “you.”

Something like this:

* You want to wear the rainbow shoes today.

“No, I don’t,” Color muttered. “We’re going there to work, not to play.”

* You pout.

And if Color comprises by wearing something else, or puts the shoes in a bag to wear later after wherever they’re going or where he thinks it’d be more appropriate, the text says something like

* !

* Wearing rainbow shoes fill you with Kindness.

* :)

And then Color gets hit with an overwhelming wave of excitement and gratitude and love from somewhere within that he’s momentarily dazed (maybe he sees a blurry flash image in his mind of a little girl jumping up and down in excitement before it fades away) and has to work to stay grounded in reality for most of the day up until they finally put on their rainbow shoes

[kjdkive]

a nice surprise - l.jn

warnings: fwb, smut, nasty, fluffy, will make you feel single even if you're not, grammar mistakes

a's/n: thinking of making a part two cause this type of jeno is making me feel crazzy. also, part two?

you shouldn't be really doing this, grabbing the key of his apartment jeno told you the location of in case of an emergency, but this is a real emergency and he isn't answering your texts, neither caring about the fact that you're ovulating and going crazy just at the thought of his touch. well, it's not like you have never been to his place alone, you've been here more times than you'd like to admit. but right now, you needed him like you needed oxygen. you don't think he will be angry, or will he? no, i mean, how could he say no to a horny-you in the middle of his living room?

"i guess i'll make myself comfortable." you layed on the couch and turned on the tv, played a random movie but you couldn't pay attention, you were just only thinking of jeno. 

40 minutes have passed and there's still not any signs of him, not even a reply to your text you sent him three hours ago. all of a sudden, you hear the locks of the door make sounds and you prepare yourself for maybe the best, maybe the worst. who knows? 

you watch the man you've been waiting for almost an hour now not notice you, he seemed stressed... maybe that's why he was not replying and just needed to be alone... did you fuck up? he dropped his backpack to the floor and took off his shoes and shirt, leaving himself with just the gray sweatpants he was wearing. three words: holy jesus fuck. 

"jesus." he said, getting shocked from the fact he hadn't see you there. "what are you doing here?" 

"hi, sorry, i grabbed the secret key you told me about and let myself in. i don't know, you weren't replying to my texts and i wanted to see you." 

"you wanted to see me..." he asks smiling as he sits down beside you "or to fuck me?" he grabs you by the waist and sits you down on his lap. 

"mmm, what is the correct answer to that right now?" you caress his hair and smile at him too. "is everything okay? i know letting myself in was weird but when you got here i noticed something was off." 

"aw, you worry about me, maybe you will get some." 

"oh my god, are my tactics working?" you ask, laughing. 

he kisses you as he grabs your face to have the control on the kiss. it's soft and not too short. 

"nothing to worry about, baby." he moves you again so both of your legs are on his sides. "i'm struggling to understand a class and i'm not having enough time to study because of my job, so yeah, it's just the normal stress of everyday." 

you give him a peck on the lips and cup his face with both of your hands and you just give him a soft look, you truly did not want him to stress out, he's the smartest, hard-working boy you know out there, he deserves a 100% scholarship and everything paid, not this. 

"you're really smart, though. like you make me feel really dumb sometimes when you start speaking engineer nerd lingo, it's also really hot." he giggles and you scratch his hair softly while still looking at him, you just feel his hand caress your lower back and sometimes your legs. "besides, hard work pays off and you know that. your job will let you grow on your career and well, we all need a major. just know that this stress will not last forever." you give him a kiss again and another one on his nose. 

"wow, you really will say all that to get some dick." he tells you and you smack his bare chest. 

"fuck you." 

"yeah, you're really trying." he laughs and stops to stare at his hands touching your legs, then your butt and at the end your waist. you get startled when he pushes you towards him lightly. and he kisses you, fervently, the way you've been wanting to get kissed all day. the "problem" right now is that he has never kissed you this passionately. the way his lips move against yours is making you feel something you've never felt before, not with him nor any men you've ever been with. 

"thank you, princess." he tells you. "you know i'm just joking, i do really appreciate your words and support." his eyes were shining as he looked at you. "and honestly, you being here was a nice surprise." 

"it was?" you ask him as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and you grab his hand. he just kept staring at you, making it seem like he was admiring every single detail of your face. 

"mhm." and you just stayed there, looking at each other. you were still holding his left hand that was placed on your face and gave it a little kiss. as he sees you doing that, he doesn't let go of your hand and just softly gets your hand to his mouth for him to kiss it. "kiss me, y/n." 

and you do what he tells you to. you kiss him with the same passion he had just kissed you with a few seconds ago. he introduces his tongue into your mouth, playing with yours. it's getting more desperate second after second, his hands that were placed on your waist were now going down to your butt to grab it and force you to grind on him, feeling him very close as you were wearing a dress so he had easy access. one of your hands stayed on his shoulder and your other hand slowly traced a line down his abs so you can grab the hem of his sweatpants.

he kept guiding your hips with his hands and stopped kissing your mouth to move to your neck, giving wet and sloppy kisses on it as he grabbed your hair and tugged it down to give himself more space to kiss, suck and lick.

"come on, baby, keep grinding on me." jeno whispers on your ear. "you're making me feel so good, princess. look so beautiful, so pretty."

his praise was just the little help you needed to moan loudly on his ear and

"that's it, baby, do you feel me? do you feel my hard cock?"

"yes, jeno, i feel it." you moan.

"just for you, princess, only for you, always for you."

you tug jeno's hair as you moan on his ear, making him understand you had just came with the way your legs were shaking. you think you're in for a long ride tonight.

[yanderecrazysie]

Saw this demon slayer fic where the reader dances while they fight, i found it a cool fighting style and it would be rlly nice if u wrote yan hashiras x a reader like that :3

I decided to go back to doing headcanons quickly (as compared to oneshots) so I skipped ahead to the first hcs on the list.

And that sounds really cool! My little sister is a dancer! She does competitions and stuff- she’s absolutely amazing and will be auditioning for a pro studio in a few months! I’m so proud of her. 

Me though? I’m ungraceful as fuck and have a bad knee.

WARNINGS: yandere themes, mostly fluffiness 

Tomioka Giyu

Tomioka’s face gives away none of the amazement he feels watching you fight for the first time.

He wants to get to know you better, but he’s awkward by nature and doesn’t like talking much, so he struggles to do so.

Master Ubuyashiki can tell his little Giyu has a crush, so he often pairs you both up on missions, hoping you’ll give him a chance, not realizing how dark Tomioka’s love really is.

Thankfully, despite his obsessiveness, Tomioka is more of a watcher (and stalker). He would never hurt you.

He just wants to watch you dance until the end of time.

Tokito Muichiro

Tokito is another calm yandere that isn’t easily impressed. But even when seeing your dance moves, he’s not blown away.

However, he does think your dancing is quite pretty and finds himself thinking about it even outside of battle, which is confusing to him.

He can’t figure out why you keep appearing in his dreams and it frustrates him a lot at first.

But then, he’s sitting there under the full moon, watching you twirl and leap as you practice fighting against the butterfly hashira, and he understands.

He’s fallen in love with you.

Rengoku Kyojuro

Rengoku, on the other hand, is very impressed and tells you so!

He’s very vocal about how much he loves your fighting style, and you enjoy showing off for him.

He doesn’t like fighting against you, because he’d much rather sit back and watch instead of try to overpower you. 

You’ve beat him several times in practice, and it only causes his respect (and love) to grow.

Anyone who thinks you’re just a pretty ballerina has another thing coming when you pull out your sword, and he knows that first hand.

He likes watching you so much that he’s asked you to dance for him, and he applauds very loudly and enthusiastically when you’re done.

Tengen Uzui

You’re a flashy person like he is, and he respects that!

Your dance moves are cutting-edge, quite literally, with a spin of hip-hop in with the ballet. It’s a unique style and he loves it!

He invites you on his missions, even if he could easily do it alone, simply because you’re the only human on earth that can match his level of flashiness.

He loves to fight alongside you, trying to make his moves as graceful as yours can be.

He finds himself researching dance more, so he can choreograph his battle moves too.

He feels all warm inside when you compliment his attempts at dancing, even though he’s kind of clunky and awkward at it with his big figure.

Iguru Obanai

Iguru will, of course, tell you that it might not be possible to always dance during a battle.

He also complains that you’re using too much stamina with your moves.

But secretly, he really loves watching, and he’s just very worried about you.

He gives you pointe shoes in your favorite color as a gift, and you wear them with your uniform.

He’s very proud that you like them and blushes when you hug him, telling him that they’re the perfect gift.

Shinazugawa Sanemi

Shinazugawa will never tell you that he thinks your hip-hop dance moves are badass.

But he does. He really, really does.

He sometimes puts you down, implying that being a dancer is weak and stuff like that.

But when you knock him on his butt in sparring practice, that shuts him up pretty quickly.

He finds himself actually competing with you a lot, determined to prove he’s better than some “dancy-pants”. But you always perform better than him.

The two of you are always butting heads, so you’re not paired together very often. But when you are, you don’t end up working well together.

He develops a crush without realizing it and it just ends up making him even angrier.

But the moment he sees you in danger, he’s ripping the demon limb-from-limb.

Himejima Gyomei

The first time you dance, you move him to tears. He’s never seen anyone or anything so beautiful.

You find it funny that your pirouetting can literally make someone cry, but you’re gentle with the tearful hashira, telling him you’re honored he likes your ballet so much.

The two of you end up being friends, with him quietly enjoying your dancing and battle practice.

You end up being on a lot of missions together since, despite the difference in your abilities, you fight well together.

He loves you so deeply and is extremely protective of you, so the others are intimidated away by the gentle giant, leaving him as your only friend

[killerlookz]

Joost Klein x Goth!Gf Headcannons

content: SFW and NSFW headcannons below the cut, 18+ MDNI, this work contains rpf and has been tagged as such, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

SFW Headcannons

You're pretty much his personal makeup artist now, anytime he wants to do his fun little facepaint looks (like the mime or kiss makeup) you're the first one he's asking to help him out

He absolutely doesn't mind you kissing him with your lipstick on and is in no rush to wash off the dark-colored lipstick prints you leave on his cheeks after you do so, sometimes letting them sit there for hours while he goes about his day.

You can't tell me that this man doesn't absolutely love going to the goth clubs. It's definitely a different speed than he's usually used to, and some of the music may be a little slow for his taste but that man just absolutely loves dancing and the nightlife in general.

He definitely dresses up to "fit in" to go to the goth clubs too! Putting on whatever black items he can find in his closet, usually a pair of rugged black jeans adorned with a thick belt either studded or with a big buckle and some black shirt he spent far too much money on. He usually ends up looking more like he's about to join Opium or Drain Gang than he does goth, but your heart entirely melts at the fact that he's trying.

You absolutely inspire him to buy a pair of New Rocks (side note im actually surprised ive never seen him in new rocks they're very his style lol) and he just absolutely towers over you in them, which he finds very amusing (cue him teasing you about being "short" even though the platforms of those shoes are like 10 cm, making him like 198 cm/ 6'5)

If you are wearing big shoes and they start to hurt he will absolutely carry you back to wherever you need to go- The same goes for if you're breaking in new shoes- you're out and about together and all of a sudden you start treading behind him, walking awkwardly due to the blisters forming on your heels and the backs of your ankles- and he knows, you don't even have to say anything, he just stops dead in his tracks, and bends down for you to get on his back.

Thrifting/ DIYing dates!!! It becomes a tradition for the two of you to go out to thrift/consignment stores and pick out pieces for the two of you to style or DIY into something. He loves it especially when you DIY things for him, and always shows off the clothes/accessories you put together for him, "Oh you like my necklace? Yeah, my girlfriend made it for me."

He laces up your corsets for you! No longer do you need to struggle trying to reach behind your back to tie your corsets. He's always so delicate about it too, "You're sure I'm not squeezing you too tight?" Running his hands all along your sides and your hips after he finishes tying it shut.

He definitely just thinks you are so cool, despite having his own unique style himself, he is just in so much awe of you being yourself, and just genuinely finds you to be the coolest person on Earth, whether its the way you do your makeup, or dress, or the music you listen to, he's just obsessed.

He'll absolutely tease you a little bit though, cue him singing "Because toniiiight will be the noiiight that I will fall for yewwww over agaiiiin" at you because he knows it pisses you off *just a little* you'll chastise him for that being emo not goth, but he still finds it funny regardless, and he loves seeing that little smile you give him when you're trying to pretend to be mad at him, but really you're holding back a laugh

He loves when you wear his necklaces or his fancy belts to accessorize with

Getting tattoos together is a muuuust, he's not so into the idea of matching tattoos, but just spontaneously on a whim being like, "hey do you wanna get another tattoo today?"

NSFW Headcannons

You CANNOT count how many new fishnet tights you've had to buy from Joost being far too impatient to get you undressed, bending you over, lifting up your skirt and just ripping the flimsy fabric open, not even bothering to take them off of you.

However, when the sex is more romantic he absolutely loves taking his time with you, so delicately removing each of your layers (and us goth girlies know... we wear a looot of layers lmaoo) he just loves being all sensual about it, he also just for sure enjoys teasing you with how excruciatingly slow he is about it.

Loves seeing how much he can ruin your makeup, whether its smudged lipstick or eyeliner dripping down your face, the messier the better.

In addition to fucking up your makeup he loves when you go down on him while you're wearing lipstick, the way your lipstick smears as you take him in your mouth, god he finds it so hot.

Obsessed with when you wear leather or latex!! Oof the way the tight, shiny material hugs your body, he cannot get enough, and honestly is ready to take it off of you the second you slip it on.

He absolutely adores you in lace too (especially black lacey lingerie) when you wear lacey tops with nothing but a bra underneath... (same can be said for a fishnet top) oooooh girl he is absolutely feral, the way you're technically "covered" but still exposed in all the right spots... whew

If you have long/pointy nails he looves feeling you dig them into him as he fucks you,

Whenever the two of you go out to the goth clubs things definitely get very steamy, always ending up with his arms wrapped around your waist and your ass pressed against his crotch as your bodies move together to the dark, slow, synthy music.

He loves it when you bite him! Always calling you his little vampire as you suck on his neck, leaving pretty little lovebites and lipstick smudges on his skin. (vampire/blood kink goes brrrr wait what who said that hAHAHHAHHA)

Fucking to goth music is a MUST... not sorry about it, bands like Depeche Mode and She Wants Revenge are top tier sex music, him mumbling along to Tear You Apart, his lips pressing into your neck, sending vibrations down your spine as he slowly undresses you.

Also fucking while watching horror movies hehehehe, there's just something about the suspense and tension that gets your blood going, one second you're watching the TV anxiously, and the next second he's on top of you as you're begging for him to please fuck you.

[keesdarlin]

☆// mine, yours (MDNI 18+)

info! 141 / fluff, established relationship (sort of) + gender neutral reader

cw! implied past self hatred, negative self image, mental health recovery, healing vibes

prompt! "i wanna be mine, wanna be yours" Mine / Yours by Wilbur Soot

notes! god i'm Really trying to not make it a habit to use wilbur soot lyrics as prompts but it's hard when they're so good please forgive me. also just as a disclaimer, the whole "you have to love yourself before you can be loved by someone else" thing is bullshit. date who you want when you want. the only thing that matters is that you actually want to get there with yourself

PRICE:

honestly, john is the king of praise and reassurance. he sees how much you struggle sometimes, especially with your faith in your skills. as a solution, he finds ways to give you lots of praise for your hard work on the side. it’s hardly in front of other recruits or, god forbid, the rest of the 141 guys, but only because he doesn’t feel like getting accused of picking favorites (even though everyone already knows anyways). besides, that praise isn’t for everyone else. it’s for you. he never gives you pointers unprompted because he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s rushing you along. he tries his best to give you the room to take things at your own pace. always asks if he can give you an idea to maybe make things easier or if he should explain something in a different way. every once in a while you have a day where whatever you’re doing is just a little bit… more than usual. a little bit more difficult, taking a little bit more time, requiring a little bit more focus than you’re used to. john spends a little bit more time with you on those days, not to babysit you or coddle you, but just to make sure that you’re feeling alright about things. when you finally get it right, he can’t help but break out in a grin with a quiet, “good job, sergeant.”

GAZ:

gaz is huge on compliments. he’s always the first one to tell you how amazing you look every day. it’s easy to struggle with loving the way you look, he knows, so he does his best to try and mitigate that. don’t get him wrong; he’s not complimenting you out of obligation or pity. he compliments you because he believes it and he wants you to believe it too. will compliment anything from your makeup (if you wear any) to your outfit to your new shoes. he just thinks you’re the shit.

kyle also puts a lot of focus on acts of service. although you’re on a journey of self love and learning how to be healthily independent rather than hyper-independent, there’s a lot of skill to build in areas where it comes to when and if you should be leaning on other people. it’s hard, he knows, but he wants to help you practice! so he watches you, surprisingly in tune with your needs, and tries to meet you halfway. it’s not that he doesn’t think that you can do it yourself. in fact, he’s certain that you can. it’s more that this is his way of helping teach you that it’s alright to accept help. he doesn’t always ask first, but he’ll do a little something when he knows you’ve had a rough day. when he sees the exhaustion that hides in the way that you roll your neck, or the way that your shoulders hike up to your ears with anxiety, or the tired sigh that leaves your lips when you finally get a chance to sit down. and it’s not always something big. usually him doing your dishes “on accident” or because he had the extra time, or making a little extra dinner for you so that you don’t have to make your own, or bringing you a glass of water even though you didn’t ask for one. he knows he doesn’t have to, he knows that you’re capable of doing all this stuff yourself, but he wants you to know that you’re not going it alone. not as long as he’s there.

SOAP:

johnny uses a lot of patience and encouragement with you, mostly in moments of frustration, and sometimes a little instruction. an aspect of the self care journey that you find yourself struggling a lot with is remembering to be patient with yourself. you can sometimes find yourself going off the rails a little bit, but soap is here to help reel you back in. without sounding patronizing, he’ll remind you to take a step back from the situation for a second, take a breath, go for a walk, whatever you need to do to zone in, and then come back after.

one day you’re down at the shooting range when the frustration hits. normally, you’re a pretty good shot, but for some reason today you can’t hit near the middle of the target for the life of you. another shot missed and you sigh sharply, barely managing to stifle the groan and curses that threaten to escape you.

“you doing alright?” soap asks from somewhere behind you.

“fine, thanks,” you mutter through clenched teeth. you don’t bother to look back at him, closing one eye as you try to focus your aim.

soap hums. steps forward, sets a gentle hand on your shoulder. you take the hint and lower your gun, huffing as you turn to look at him. “alright. you’re doing pretty well so far, but let’s take a deep breath and try it all again, aye bonnie? i’ll help.”

you roll your eyes but inhale deep anyways. soap nods as he watches your shoulders fall with the exhale. “good job, lamb. now come ‘ere. ‘m gonna help you adjust to this gun.”

GHOST:

simon doesn’t tolerate negative self-talk. you guys talked about it once, how you want to be better about being kind to yourself. sure, sometimes that can mean taking a self care day or going out for a night with some friends or sitting down and taking some time to do something intentional. but those all have the potential to be pretty time consuming. something you can do every day, all the time no matter what you might be up to is saying something nice about yourself. it’s definitely weird the first few times; you didn’t realize before how much shit you talk about yourself every day, so the new hyper-awareness is a little bit anxiety-inducing. but once you adjust to the strangeness of it, it actually starts to feel kind of nice. every time you say something kind about yourself and find yourself meaning it, a spot of pride pulses warmly in your chest. it can still be difficult sometimes. some days, when things feel a little bit darker, a little bit heavier, you find yourself insulting your mistakes and talking down to yourself. but simon is right there with you to remind you. “you wanna try that again?” he asks nonchalantly when he hears you utter a quiet ‘oof, i’m dumb.’

you blush, but nod. “yeah, sorry. uhm… i’m not dumb, i’m just distracted and i’ll do better.”

he never gives a verbal response to your self-compliments, just a nod and, if you’re lucky, a little smile.

[florvaine]

silver spikes and pastel ribbons.

headcannons of Hobie with an opposite aesthetic gf. (afab! reader)

genre: mainly fluff, slight angst, nsfw(?)

warnings: little nsfw if you squint, crying, some kid gets a car lobbed at him 😭

i imaginee the two of you actually met at one of his gigs 🫶🏻

He was on the stage, flicking his roughened fingertips on each string on his guitar, a harsh rift sounding through the amp on the edge of platform as he moves his hand further up the fretboard.

Then he looks in the crowd, right by the barrier of sweaty, headbanging and most likely hammered fans, and you’re right there.

Directly in front of him, pressed against the metal-barred barrier that security was struggling to keep people from hopping over.

What caught him off guard wasn’t only the fact you were fuckin’ gorgeous, but the fluttery, light pink dress that was just above the middle of your thighs. White lace trimmed the v-shaped neckline that was held up by thin, spaghetti straps.

Strips of silky ribbon cascade from the wrap around your waist, dangling pearls and a small-chain necklace decorate your collarbones and shimmer like the sheen of sweat that held stray hairs against your temples and your forehead.

And your shoes - a pair of white, glossy, open-toed high heels that added a few extra inches to your height (Hobie secretly wanted to give you a few other inches), but even with them Hobie could still tell from the stage that he was way taller than you.

He misses a single strum of his guitar, so he temporarily redirects his attention back to the gig, his hickory eyes still wandering over to you from under his mask.

100% got the security to practically hunt you down so you could meet him backstage.

He’s a little anxious because they were taking a while, and he’s slightly disappointed at the thought you already left.

But then there’s a knock at the door and one of the security guards speaks muffled through his private backstage room.

“Hobie, got the girl you were askin’ for.”

The rest is history, really. You were officially dating after 7 painfully long months.

You got along well, even if everything else about each other was contrasting, you’re political ideals, music taste and humour are practically a copy and paste.

The two of you get undoubtably get some stares.

A man clad in black leather and silver spikes and a woman dressed like a doll stood out a lot against the Nike trackies of London.

“Everyone’s staring, Hobie.”

“Ignore ‘em, hun. They’re pissed JD is shut.”

Every now and then he takes you to a more quiet, downtown street with a collection of thrift stores and craft shops.

Hobie’s definitely caught in Hobbycraft at least twice a week 😭😭

Literally loves your style - everything from your jewellery to the way you get your nails done.

He’s whipped ‼️

Loves everything about you, but especially your hair.

If you wear wigs he’s helping you install it, if you have naturally curly hair he’s taking note of each step for later on, he reads the labels of every hair product you own.

I feel like he has a thing for curly hair idk why I just get the vibe.🤭

Hobie definatly told Pav and Gwen about you when you first met, like the next day he’s at the Spider Society talking even more than usual.

“She was stunnin’, I’m tellin’ ya’ now. Really nice eyes,” He turns away from them and mutters under his breath, “And tits.”

Gwen smirks, “You’ve told us, I’m pretty sure.” She nudges Pav, and he’s giggling like an excited schoolgirl.

“Never thought I’d see Hobie have a full-blown crush!” Pav comments.

Hobie hums, a small smile on his face as he stares infront of him. Gwen and Pav share a look before they imitate the way he looks - like a lovestruck idiot.

It’s funny with one of you in the other’s room - Hobie, dressed in dark blues and blacks with an overall threatening aura just sat on your pretty pink bedsheets in your floral-scented room.

Sometimes you’ll randomly go on a tangent about a new dress or concert tickets whilst doing something else, and you’re convinced he’s uninterested.

Next time he’s at yours he had that new dress in a silk scarf wrap, or he pulls the tickets out of one of his pockets.

You’re in the kitchen of your apartment, stirring the milk into your tea as Hobie scrapes butter onto two slices of toast you had put in.

When he’s finished, he slides the plate over to you before leaning back on the counter and looking at your over his shoulder.

“Thanks, Bee,” You pick up the plate, moving it closer to you for easier access to the toast.

There’s two rectangular, shimmery-sheened tickets underneath the circular plate.

You’re shocked, looking at the ticket now in your hand, eyes moving from the words and numbers printed onto it and your boyfriend.

“Hobie, you didn’t have to!” You say.

“You said that ya’ wanted to see them, so I got us tickets.” He shrugs, a small proud smirk on his lips.

Movie nights every Friday after dinner 💕

Sometimes he has to leave early or he shows up later on, but he makes up for the time lost by bringing you your favourite food and drink from the local corner shop.

If you’re in college or uni, he will swing in every break and check in on you and everything.

When it comes to cuddling, he’s the big spoon 95% of the time unless he had a really shitty day.

Like really shitty.

It’s not very often Hobie crys, and even when he does it’s not for very long.

The man prides himself in being Spider-Punk, saving civilians whilst preaching his beliefs to his followers that feel more like a family than fans.

He can only hold on so long, and it’s only a matter of time before he can’t save someone.

Sure, the little boy wasn’t dead, he was in hospital after a car had been carelessly tossed into him by the anomaly he was supposed to contain.

After visiting the boy in hospital, chanting apologies and ‘get well soon’s like a broken record, he goes to the first place he can think of.

Yours.

There was something so special, so serene and comforting in the confines of your cluttered shelves and organised wardrobe pressed against the walls of your bedroom.

Hobie knew it wasn’t the room, but it was you.

You, so different and relaxing. Calming and exciting, understanding and motivating. Anywhere was safe if you were there.

He swings through shadowed alleys, reaching your apartment over the bustling roads and honking horns of the cars below.

Hobie perches on your small balcony, and taps on the window.

In his reflection, Spider-Punk looks back at him. Strong, unbeatable, selfless and stubborn. But as he pulls the mask off, the fabric hanging limp like a ragdoll cat in his had, Hobie Brown stares back at him.

Tattered, exhausted, overwhelmed and in desperate need to be in your arms.

The window opens. His mental image of himself splits away as soon as he sees your face.

“Rough night?” You ask, voice slightly raspy and muffled, yet still as soothing as hot tea and honey on a sore throat.

The routine begins when Hobie nods. He clambers in, he takes off his boots and jacket and leaves them by your desk, his mask discarded somewhere beside them.

You pull out one of his white, soft cotton shirts from your dresser, and a pair of dark grey shorts. He gets changed, you make a cup of tea.

Then he cries. Salty droplets of embodied sorrows paired with the pinch of his eyebrows and the slight quiver of his bottom lip.

Each time a tear drips down his soft cheeks you wipe it away with your equally as soft hands, smearing the liquidated sadness into his now clumpy lashes.

You count sixteen droplets this time before he stops, and you stand up to offer the silk scarf he wrapped your gifted babydoll dress in, and he takes it before wrapping the coarse, black wicks that topped his head.

And then he’s curling his back against your chest, holding the hand of your arm that loosely covers his waist.

Their consciousness fades into two seperate slumbers. A comforting silence drapes over the two lovers, knowing that the other will be there when they awake.

-—-

[schrijverr]

Okay, straight Eddie Diaz, because - hear me out - trans woman Eddie Diaz.

Like it makes perfect sense in canon due to the fact that Eddie is repressed as hell, it can be about just sexuality, but I think adding in gender really adds to it. She does truly dream of having that traditional marriage with someone, she has just been casting herself in the wrong role, which makes it all the harder to figure out, because she is so sure that's what she wants, but it always feels wrong anyway.

It turns out, all the women she has dated felt wrong, because she wanted to be them not be with them. Plus, they never measured up as a parental figure, as a mother figure specifically, because Eddie wasn't comparing to what can be expected of an early stages potential step parent. Instead, she was comparing them to what she, Eddie, provides for Chris, and they could never be as good as a mom as her (but she didn't realize this).

((Also, Buck - bc yes, I am making this a little buddie - was able to fit into that step parent role, bc Eddie wasn't comparing him to herself, but let him organically grow into the role. Something Eddie doesn't realize until she unpacked a lot of stuff and realized her feelings for him aren't the platonic kind. She also realizes why she was so fuckign jealous of all his girlfriends, but always less bothered by his boyfriends.))

I feel like she'd be more masc (give me butch trans woman Eddie, please, fan artist out there, I'm on my little knees) and she struggles a lot with wanting to be a woman, but having 'masculine' interest and thus feeling like she can't be. Seeing Hen was both great for her and the cause of much confusion, bc she wanted what Hen had so bad, but also not entirely, because she isn't a lesbian and she had no clue what that meant when she first started working with the 118.

She has a hyper-masculine phase (mustache Eddie, why xp), really leaning into 'being a man' to run away from the feelings, because that is a mood. This isn't a great time for Eddie, because she does still like her masculine hobbies, as mentioned above, so it's confusing and she semi-gaslights herself into thinking she is imagining it. Until one day she shaves and is like, huh, I forgot how much I liked the clean shaven look and suddenly that triggers a whole set of revelations.

She keeps the short hair, but changes the shaping off it slightly so it softens her face more. She also is a jeans girly through and through, though comfy leggings definitely start making their way into the rotation after Maddie introduced her to them. Eddie does change the cut of her jeans slightly to be less tight at the crotch area, but she does like jeans that emphasize her butt, bc she has a great ass and that makes her feel good about herself. Overall, she isn't big on skirts, but wears dresses when there is an occasion.

Also, she has height dysphoria, which also upsets her, because all the heels look fun, she doesn't care that Hen claims they're the devil's shoes. ((Buck being taller makes Eddie so euphoric, before she realizes what is making her dysphoric exactly, she'd continuously be in his space, because he makes her feel a little shorter. When on dates, she sometimes can pull out heels and Buck will wear thicker soles so she can, sliding an arm around her waist and tucking her into his side so the dysphoria won't creep back in)).

She doesn't tell her parents at first, but she does tell her sisters, who are thrilled to have an all girls sibling squad now. They give her some of the heirloom jewelry they got, which Eddie missed out on, because she was still an egg at the time. She totally doesn't cry... Maybe a little.

Eddie is not a make up girl, however. She really tried to get into it, especially to cover the five-o'clock shadow, but it always looked weird and it isn't practical with her job. When they have a party, she'll put on some mascara and try with contour to add a little different shaping to her jaw and cheeks, but she never gets into it as much as she thought she would. She does not say no to getting manny paddies with Athena and May from time to time. Having nice nails is a great source of gender euphoria.

It was a little hard on Chris for Eddie to be mom too and Eddie had a whole crisis about what if this is repeating Kim, but in a different font and I am actually trying to replace Shannon? She has a lot of solo therapy and the two go to family therapy. Chris is never a dick about it, just a kid working through his trauma (don't be mean). When they have worked through it, Chris is her number one hype man, even though he's an awkward teen about it. His stumbling compliments are always her favorite and she carries them with her in her heart.

Anyway, just straight trans woman Eddie <3

[batneko]

Okay I was trying to come up with a sugar daddy bowuigi AU and I ended up spending so much time thinking about the setting that this is gonna be another long one

So! It's modern day, big city. I prefer to think of it as still a world full of magic and mushrooms and monsters but if y'all want to picture this as a human AU feel free. In this world instead of a king Bowser is the third-generation owner of the biggest demolition company in the city. They took a slight dent lately because Bowser doesn't exactly get along with the city planner... but the company is still best in the business and not hurting for work.

Then there's the Mario brothers, who run a tiny independent plumbing company and by sheer coincidence have a phone number exactly one digit off from Koopa Demolition. They're good at what they do but because they can only take at most two jobs at a time they sometimes struggle. And they can't cut costs (any more than they already have) so the only leg up they have on the competition is promising to be faster than anyone else at the same price. It means they have to work a lot harder (and will definitely backfire sooner or later) but right now they're doing pretty well. Reasonably well. They're doing okay.

Having nearly the same number as a different business means that occasionally both groups will show up somewhere thinking they're about to negotiate a contract only to find out they just wasted their time and gas money. Hard feelings build up. Once, when the bros actually managed to convince a building owner to replace the lead pipes instead of tearing everything down, Mario and Bowser very nearly got into a physical fight. (It doesn't help that Mario is dating Bowser's ex though neither of them will admit that's part of it.)

And then one night Bowser goes back to a demo site to check on something, ends up getting hurt, and Luigi happens to be working late on a job nearby and comes to his rescue. He insists on accompanying Bowser all the way to the hospital, and while he's waiting with him mentions that it turned out to be a good thing the van broke down because if he wasn't walking back to the subway he might not have heard Bowser cry out. Bowser asks how Luigi is going to get home now, since it's so late the subway isn't running anymore, and Luigi says "I'll... I'll figure something out." Bowser calls one of his people and makes them give Luigi a ride. It's awkward for everyone.

The next day a tow truck shows up to take the Mario Bros' van to a mechanic. They're like "we didn't order this??" and the driver just says it was paid for in advance. Luigi realizes what happened and, thinking about the bad blood between Mario and Bowser, tells him the client last night was really grateful for him working late. Mario says they should thank him and Luigi says he definitely will.

So he goes to see Bowser, who is still laid up with a broken foot, and brings him a fruit basket. Bowser is like, I will absolutely eat this fruit but fixing the van was supposed to be payment for Luigi's help. He doesn't like feeling indebted. And Luigi says it was too much! There must be something Luigi can do to thank him properly.

Well... there's this stupid local businessman dinner that Bowser really didn't want to go to. Having somebody to talk to will make it more bearable. Luigi says sure, and the day of the dinner Bowser picks him up two hours early to go out and buy him a suit. Top to bottom, shoes and all. Luigi is a little offended Bowser didn't think he had nice enough clothes... but once they get to the venue and see what everyone else is wearing he can admit he did not have nice enough clothes.

The dinner goes well. Luigi IS a local businessman and nobody questions what he's doing there, even if they haven't heard of his company. Talking with Bowser is surprisingly easy, especially since plumbing and demolition have enough overlap that they can chat about work without having to explain much. They have a lot of similar gripes about clients and contracts and tools.

After a pretty nice evening and maybe one too many glasses of wine, it's all too easy to forget this wasn't supposed to be a date-date and fall into bed with Bowser. When Luigi gets home, rumpled and dressed in clothes he didn't leave in, Mario just congratulates him on what looks like a successful night.

A few days later there's a delivery. A brand new set of the power tools Luigi had mentioned he daydreamed about. Luigi calls Bowser and says this is too much, he can't accept it, and Bowser just says, "keep 'em or throw 'em out, I'm not taking them back. Already wrote them off as a business expense."

Luigi keeps them, but he can't explain this one away. He tells Mario that the person he went out with last week is... from a different socio-economic bracket. (Mario is not allowed to judge, Peach pays for most of their dates too.) They both avoid using the S-D words, but Mario says he feels too weird accepting work equipment from a stranger. Better tell the guy to stick to personal gifts.

So with something like brotherly approval, Luigi starts dating Bowser. He gets clothes, a new phone, fancy dinners and nights at expensive hotels. Bowser is not a bad date (except for when he is) but Luigi always feels a little weird knowing that their relationship is transactional. Even though Bowser clearly likes him and wants to make him happy, Luigi feels like he can't speak up about Bowser being demanding or talking down to people. Because if he's not agreeable enough Bowser will just find somebody new.

Meanwhile, Bowser has NO IDEA that Luigi thinks this. Somewhere along the line he got it in his head that his affection is a burden. He hasn't thought about this enough to put it into words, but he feels like he needs to reward people for being around him or they'll leave. He's not even trying to be a sugar daddy, he treats all of the (few) people he loves like this.

It's not until they've been dating long enough for Luigi to meet Bowser's son that anything changes. Luigi immediately sees that Bowser is pulling the old "new toys make up for not actually being around, right?" and can't stop himself from telling him that NO it does NOT make up for it. Your son wants your TIME.

He's extremely surprised when Bowser listens. And after Luigi tells him that asking Junior about his day and his hobbies will make him feel more cared about, Bowser starts making an effort to ask Luigi those things too.

Eventually he starts to think that... maybe? Bowser has just been romantically incompetent this whole time? So he tests it, and the next time Bowser tries to demand he take a week off to go on a boring business trip with him, Luigi (calmly but firmly) says that he can't possibly miss that much work but Bowser can call and talk to him every day. Bowser goes for it. He actually seems really excited that Luigi is "allowing" him to have so much of his attention.

Oof. Now Luigi feels bad.

After a couple more weeks of trying to wean Bowser off buying his affection (except paying the phone bill because Luigi seriously couldn't afford to do that himself) Luigi asks Bowser if he can officially call them boyfriends?

Bowser practically falls all over himself to agree. Everything is good, they understand each other, Luigi even has his own section in Bowser's closet. He could see this relationship lasting for the rest of his life.

Now he just needs to figure out how to tell his brother...

[queensunshinee]

I would love to see a simple blurb of Patrick and Liana on their good days! Even though I'm rooting for Art now, we can't deny that in the beginning they were cute 🥲

ohhhh yeah, when they were good they were really the best :) warnings: SMUT! 18+!, dirty talk, p in v sex, oral sex, fingering, praise.

Patrick stared at Liana as if she had fallen from the moon, and she felt her cheeks begin to burn. "Why are you looking at me like that? You were the one who told me to wear a dress!" She quickly touched her nose with her hand. "I'm going to change clothes." She rolled her eyes while he continued to remain silent and stare at her.

Slowly, Patrick's smile widened, and he entered her dorm room. His hand, which was behind his back, held a rose wrapped in clear cellophane and a bow. "You're perfect. I'm just thinking about how to survive dinner without taking off that dress." He kissed her gently on the cheek. "You clean up well yourself, Zweig," she said, unable to hide her smile. "Where are we going?" she asked, examining his unusually polished appearance. A light blue button-down and jeans. Clean shoes. Who was this guy, and what did he do to her boyfriend?

"Since I managed to surprise you? No way I'm telling you now. But we're running late, Lilo, let's go." Patrick felt mesmerized. He really felt he wouldn't survive the black dress combined with the new bangs she had cut and the bright red lipstick. Patrick helped her put on her coat and handed her bag while she locked the door.

"You can open your eyes," Patrick whispered in her ear as they stood in front of the chef's restaurant Liana had talked about on the phone with Melissa three months ago when Patrick was next to her. She had only said that the place belonged to some chef she had seen on TV, and Patrick made a mental note to reserve a spot for them. From that moment, he saved up for their meal. He did a few odd jobs between the courses his parents forced him to take and his training sessions. One of the jobs he did was delivering newspapers. He was utterly exhausted, but the look she gave him now was worth the hassle of the past few months.

"Patrick, we can't. It's too expensive here." She was in complete shock, swallowing hard as he practically dragged her to the entrance. "Happy anniversary, Lilo." He smiled at her, and before they went inside, she stopped and gave him a deep but brief kiss. "How did you know I wanted to eat here?" she asked curiously. "That's what happens when I want to know everything about you." He shrugged without looking at her, as if it was obvious. As if it was clear to everyone that he loved her enough to want to know every detail of her life.

They sat down, and he ordered the white wine she had loved since they moved to London. In general, he thought he kinda admired who she had become since they moved to London. She was so intelligent that sometimes he was embarrassed to join in the conversations she had when he was next to her, even though he knew she would never judge him. He didn't want people to think she surrounded herself with foolish people. He always made sure to go home and read a bit on Google about the topics she talked about that he didn't understand. To know more for the next time he saw one of the people she had talked to. So as not to embarrass her.

"Are you happy?" he asked when they entered his apartment, and she took off her shoes. They were both full and slightly tipsy. He felt a warmth in his stomach that didn't characterize London's winter in any way but did characterize Liana. "You know that even if we had been sitting in the pizzeria across from your apartment, I would have been happy, right?" Her smile was wide and sincere. "Let me," he murmured, seeing her struggle with the buckle of her shoe. "You don't have to—" she replied, but he was already on all fours in front of her, smiling one of his softest smiles, the gentlest ones that she knew were reserved just for her.

Patrick took off her shoe and started planting small kisses on her leg, making her bite her lip while she ran her fingers through his curls. "You're so beautiful, Lilo. Everyone in that restaurant was jealous of me." He murmured, and she felt his breath on her pussy. She knew he saw how wet she was. How much she wanted him. How she always, always wanted him. It could have been embarrassing if she didn't know he wanted her just as much.

"What do you want, Liana?" he asked, partly to tease and partly to hear her demand what he already wanted to do. "Your tongue. Please." She found herself almost trembling as his strong hand steadied her. He gave a small lick over her panties and then couldn't resist sucking on that spot with a force that made her moan and him growl.

"So wet, sweetie," he mumbled, suddenly pulling down her panties but leaving them around her legs, making it hard for her to spread. One hand held her ass, and the other stabilized her left leg while his tongue explored her from the inside. "Fuck, Pat," she managed to say through a quiet moan, struggling to breathe and talk at the same time. His skilled tongue explored every inch of her, his lips pulling and kissing while he drank every drop she released.

The hand that held her butt gripped harder. Liana was sure it would leave a mark for days, but just the thought of it could bring her to the edge, while the hand that was on her leg joined his lips, and three fingers at once made quick movements in and out. Liana couldn't control the volume of her moans anymore and almost screamed.

"Atta girl, give me everything you've got. I want the neighbors to hear when you come on my face, Liana, do it for me," he almost begged in a half-broken voice but still maintained authority while he continued to eat her out. Liana's eyes rolled back as she screamed his name, stabilizing herself by grabbing his head uncontrollably, causing him to groan almost as loudly as she did as she came on his chin.

Patrick stood up, not leaving her for a moment because he knew she was struggling to stand steadily right now. He almost dragged her to the bed, finally removing her panties and unzipping her dress. "The dress has done its job, I don't want to see it anymore," he muttered and threw it to the floor with mock defiance while undressing quickly.

"I want you so much, Liana. Fuck. I've never needed anything like I need to be inside you," he said, planting long, sloppy kisses on every part of her he could reach. His hand played with one of her nipples while giving her a moment to recover from the orgasm she had just experienced, to avoid overwhelming her senses. "Please, fuck me. Patrick. Please," she begged, and he smiled. "Not tonight," he said gently, moving her sweaty bangs from her face and seeing her eyes widen, showing disappointment. "Tonight, we're going to be one of those disgusting couples," he continued, kissing her cheek and then the other. "Tonight, I'm just going to love you. We're making love tonight. Tomorrow, we'll fuck. Okay?" he asked.

Liana was so surprised because it was uncharacteristic. Everything with Patrick was rough and blunt and almost jarring to those who didn't know him. Borderline disgusting to outsiders. He could spit in her mouth, and she would swallow it. He could slap her while his cock was down her throat. Use her holes as if she were his personal toy, and it was perfect. Sometimes it was all she wanted from him. All she never knew she wanted. She loved everything he loved. Any request that seemed excessive to someone else, Liana wanted to perform excellently. She wanted him to pet her and tell her she was a good girl because she made him feel so good. But she was sure she couldn't make Patrick feel better than he made her feel. With him, she felt seen. Complete. Like she never had before.

And suddenly, he was lying above her, full of tenderness and peace. Not wanting to fuck her but just to love her. As if they weren't the same things. "Okay," she answered him. "You're so good, Liana," he mumbled as he slid his cock all the way into her, and they both sighed, making the most desperate moans possible.

Patrick moved slowly and deeply. His gaze never left hers except for the moments he had to close his eyes, or he would come too soon. He wanted to hold on to this night. Prolong their experience as much as he could. "I love you so much," he said, feeling her clench around him. He had to stop himself from thrusting faster and harder. He wanted to be gentle with her tonight. He wanted her to know how much he appreciated her.

"I love you more," she replied, and he knew it was bullshit because there was no way anyone in the world loved someone more than Patrick loved Liana. Instead of arguing with her, he pressed his lips to hers. She clenched around him again, and he knew she was close. "Look at me, Liana," he mumbled, forcing himself and her to open their eyes.

"Fuck, Pat," she managed to say before she came. "I know, Lilo, so good. Fuck," he said and came right after her. His body weight enveloped her for a few lazy minutes during which he didn't pull out and kept planting small kisses on her shoulder, where his head rested.

"Happy anniversary, Lilo. I love you," he said, and she smiled at him, looking at the man lying next to her in bed. On the one hand, not believing they had already been together for a year, and on the other hand, feeling like they had been this way their entire lives.

Send me more requests about the story and from time to time I'll get to write some extras like this one. Hope you liked it. Let me know 💜

taglist: @suzysface tqd4455 @soberbabes @nina357 @lamoursansfin @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

[lazorbeanz]

Sonamy Headcanons because I’m deprived and extremely delulu 🙃

🩷 Sonic has like- telepathic senses that tell him whenever Amy is in potential danger

“My Amy Senses are tingling..” 🤣

if you’ve watched Barbie Life in the Dreamhouse, you’ll get it lololol

💙 Sonamy road trips roles

Amy: driver, trip organiser, checklists checklist checklists, “DONT EAT THOSE THEY’RE FOR THE TRIP!!”, carpool karaoke *whips out her inner Ariana Grande*, “eughhh Sonic did you fart?!”

Sonic: passenger princess, DJ, snacc provider (and eater), sleeping beauty, “couldn’t we just use my speed to get there?”, argues with the GPS because he knows a faster route (one not requiring the road)

🩷 Sonic and Amy playing table tennis:

Amy: sonic, serve

Sonic: *💁‍♂️🕺*

Amy: no- serve the BALL xD

💙 Person: “are you two dating?”

Sonic and Amy: *while holding hands* “no”

🩷 Though he doesn’t admit it, Sonic also loves his quills massaged. Sometimes when Sonic and Amy are chilling under a tree together, and he ends up dozing off, Amy will rest his head on her lap and stroke her hand through his quills, resulting in a few faint purrs from the hedgehog, which she secretly gushes over about

💙 They could be arguing for 5 minutes straight and after be like:

“I LOVE YOUUUU!!” >:O

“I LOVE YOU TOOOOOO!!!!” >:O

🩷 Amy finds shopping twice as fun with Sonic because he will just sit her in the shopping cart, as they zip up and down the aisles whilst grabbing the items on the list…getting it all done in 2 minutes tops. They call it the Operation: S^2 (Speed Shopping)

💙 Sonic and Amy could already be years into marriage but will still do or say things that’ll make the other flustered, like the times when they were dating.

🩷 Amy knows that if Sonic is being really flirty with her, he usually wants something.

💙 If Sonic and Amy are both sick one day, they will tell off each other, insisting they should be at home resting.

It results in both of them at Amy’s house, snuggled up on the couch binging movies.

🩷 As much as Amy likes sharing the goss with rouge and the girls, there’s nothing like sharing it with her bf because he goes all “omg gurl no wayyy! 💅” or he starts spilling his own tea with her lmao “omg bestie you won’t believe who I saw the other day…”

💙 Sonic plans secret meet ups with Cream, who teaches him how to make her signature flower crowns…he hopes to master it so he can make Amy one, one day…

🩷 (this following hc was an idea from a comic I believe..don’t know who made it but if u do pls let me know for credit purposes ig kajsjwidj)

Amy knows how Sonic can sometimes struggle to speak his feelings and is often an action over words type of guy. So she came up with this thing that anytime Sonic wants to tell Amy he loves her, without verbally saying it, all he needs to do is squeeze her hand 3 times; I. Love. you.

💙 When Amy told Sonic she wanted to go dancing with him, she didn’t expect it to be just dance…anyways she had tons of fun!

🩷 If they have sleepovers, it’s a tradition that they wear matching onesies (guys comment what they should be hehe)

💙 Amy uses Sonic as the makeup tester. He ends up looking ready for the circus afterwards but he honestly doesn’t mind this because he gets tons of kissies when she’s trying out the lipsticks

🩷 Walks along the beach are nice and romantic until Sonic decides to be a lil shh and kick sand in Amy’s shoes *cue her dragging her naughty bf towards the ocean*

💙 Amy’s a sucker for old school romance; love letters, flowers, fancy dates…and Sonic knows this. (Well EVERYONE does actually…) So one day, despite how inexperienced he is in the whole romance department, sets aside time to work on writing a letter, buying flowers and arranging somewhere nice to take Amy out for her to fulfil her romance fantasies. She’ll even get to dress up for this occasion

🩷 Sonic helping out Amy in the kitchen be like:

“A-Amy…I burnt the water…”

“Sonic how TF did you BURN the water?!”

“I DONT KNO-”

💙 Amy is having a downer and is very clingy…so here is Sonic running his gf’s errands, with his gf clinging onto him. People will see this unusual phenomenon and he just gives them all the stare…nothing to see here! I mean it ain’t the first time he’s had to cart a pink hedgehog round the place

🩷 For the longest time, Amy has had a box sitting aside in her closet, containing a new special swim shirt, arm floaties, and a swimming kickboard, for when Sonic decides to finally learn how to swim. She can’t see the day any of the contents will be used but she could only hope.

💙 Sonic keeps an umbrella on standby for future “need to share an umbrella” emergencies

🩷 In the winter, they’re practically inseparable, using each other desperately to warm up. Because of this Tails had to design them jackets with instant heating, but they still end up back together even though they aren’t freezing anymore

[aurumacadicus]

Pride Pocket 16--Give to Me Your Leather

Kink belongs at Pride. I will not be arguing a fact.

The title is from Stevie Nicks and Don Henley's "Leather and Lace" and rest assured Tony indulges Steve in both. You can also find this fic on ao3 (here). Look out for under the cut!

--

After a gala, Tony was in the habit of simply dropping all of his clothes on the floor and falling face-first onto his bed. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about his clothes, or that he wouldn’t miss a cufflink, or that he expected someone to clean up after him. It was just that, by the time he finally trudged in during the early hours of the morning, he simply couldn’t imagine doing more than that. In his opinion, if he even made it out of his clothes, it was a victory—after hours of shaking hands and kissing rings, of drinking watered-down alcohol and dancing, of seeing off all of his guests (and making sure they signed their checks), it was a miracle. There were a few times that he hadn’t even made it that far, instead crumpling onto the nearest flat surface without having managed to loosen his tie.

He’d been embarrassed, the first time he woke up to find Steve had hung up his tuxedo to send to the cleaner’s. That Steve had set his cufflinks on his dresser next to his watch display, his shoes in the closet. That Steve had sat beside him and carefully undid his garters and pulled his socks off so he could tuck him comfortably under the blankets. He’d known that Steve liked to keep a tidy room. He had tried so hard to keep things neat so Steve wouldn’t regret moving in with him. Steve had shrugged off his apologies, said he didn’t care. But Tony had. Steve had been so hesitant to move in at all, he didn’t want to give him a reason to move back out.

He hadn’t really understood how much Steve didn’t mind until he found him in his closet a week before another gala, carefully cleaning a pair of his leather shoes.

“I have. People. For that,” Tony said when he realized Steve wasn’t stopping. He tipped his head, looking at the different tins in the basket at Steve’s elbow. Clean rags, dirty rags, tins of shoe conditioner and different colors of polish. Where had he gotten those? “You don’t have to.”

Steve’s hands didn’t stutter. “I like to do it.”

“Oh,” Tony answered, feeling like an idiot, and he was only half sure why.

He was suddenly reminded that when it came to cleaning and repairing Steve’s suit, he’d never received the leather harness he wore. It certainly saw a lot of wear and tear from the shield—he’d seen scuffs and friction burns after battle. He’d figured that Steve just. Got new ones. But that didn’t make any sense, he realized, looking around the closet. He’d seen the one hanging with his suit when he’d moved his things in. He had a spare, but… he didn’t like to use it, he’d said. Wanted to work it soft during training first, or something.

“Leather hasn’t changed at all,” Steve continued before he could try to press. He turned, holding the shoe up so Tony could see his reflection gleaming in its shiny black surface. “I don’t know how much you know about me, but—”

“I would hope a bit more than the average person,” Tony mumbled, crossing his arms. He had no idea why he felt defensive. Steve didn’t seem mad. But he was also in here polishing Tony’s shoes, and he didn’t really know what to make of that.

Steve blinked at him placidly. “In the thirties,” he finally continued, once he was sure that Tony was finished. “Buck an’ I had an apartment together. I made money by shining shoes.”

“Oh,” Tony said again, feeling even more foolish. He didn’t know why he should, though. Steve struggled to tell him about his past sometimes, and it wasn’t like he’d ever seen ‘shoe shiner’ under the ‘previous occupation’ parts of his paperwork. “I didn’t know that.”

“It’s soothing,” Steve added, bringing the shoe back down to his lap so he could go back to rubbing it with the cloth in his other hand. After a moment, he slanted Tony a concerned look. “Am I not doing it to your standards?”

“Doing?” Tony repeated, baffled, and then squawked, “How long have you been shining my shoes?!”

Steve blinked at him again, brows furrowing together in confusion. “Since I moved in with you, Tony.”

Tony had never felt so mortified in his life. Steve had been polishing his shoes for three months, and he’d never noticed. He found himself stepping forward and reaching for his shoe, trying to pull it from Steve’s hand. “You don’t have to—”

Steve smacked his hand away with the sole of the shoe and rolled his eyes. “I’m not doing it because I feel like I have to, Tony. I just told you. I like it. It’s soothing. Familiar,” he added, rubbing at the smudge Tony had left. “Like I said, leather hasn’t changed. And it’s… nice, that I can do something for you.” He offered Tony a wry smile. “Not many gifts I can get for the man who has everything, after all.”

Tony shifted back and forth on his feet for a moment. Steve had never lied to him before, so he really must enjoy doing it. He still felt a little uncomfortable, but he was beginning to realize it was because no one had ever really… cared to do something like that for him before. He opened his mouth to say so, to try and defend the way he’d been acting the past few minutes, but then decided to bite it back. He didn’t want to upset Steve when he seemed to be enjoying himself, and Steve had this habit of going from sad to angry on his behalf when he thought Tony hadn’t been treated right. He was still feeling very wrong-footed and he didn’t want to deal with it if this was a thing that pushed Steve’s ‘Tony’s been mistreated in every relationship he’s had’ button again.

“It’s… fine,” Tony finally answered, voice halting as he tried to find the proper response without revealing too much. “The quality, I mean. I haven’t noticed a difference, so, you’re just as good as the people I was using.”

Steve smiled, but he didn’t lift his gaze from the shoe in his hand, instead turning it so he could observe it from a different angle. “Well, that’s a relief. I have to admit, I did have JARVIS order a pair of shoes for me to practice on.”

Tony blinked, surprised. “Oh. Well, that explains why I suddenly had two pairs of Snowdons,” he said, turning to look at his display of shoes. He’d just figured he’d bought a second pair when he was mindlessly scrolling in bed, unable to sleep. It was a good-looking shoe. He wasn’t mad about it.

“Those are a pretty nice pair of shoes,” Steve said, nodding. He gave the shoe in his hand one last going over before he looked back up at him. “I was thinking about getting a pair myself, for when I have to go to these shindigs.”

Tony opened his mouth to tell him he would probably faint dead away at the price tag. He closed it again quickly, though. He decided he didn’t actually want to be there when Steve realized he’d casually spent a thousand dollars for a pair of shoes without asking. Instead, he finally stepped around him to go sit in the other chair, leaning back so he could watch Steve set the shoe aside and carefully take up the other one. “So, you used to shine shoes for a living, huh?”

Steve sort of grimaced, lifting his shoulders in an aborted shrug. “A living? Well…” He picked up a clean rag from his kit, using it to buff along the toe of the shoe. “It was money. Not as good as having a full-time job like Buck, but at least I was contributing.” The corner of his mouth tugged up into a wry smile. “Maybe if I’d been shinin’ shoes like this, I’d be able to call it a living. I was getting twenty cents a pair where I was. I heard on Wall Street, they charged forty-five cents.”

“And milk came in glass bottles to your house and you bought ice from a horse-drawn ice cart,” Tony grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest again as his mind automatically converted the numbers. So he was making six dollars for every pair of shoes he shined while others were making ten. He sagged petulantly in his seat and tried not to think about how unfair the world was to Steve. It was almost a century ago.

“We had a refrigerator, Tony,” Steve chided, but the wryness was gone from his smile when he looked back up at him in amusement.

Tony huffed at him, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t hear you mentioning the milk in glass bottles being delivered to your door.”

“I was lactose intolerant before the serum, Tony,” Steve deadpanned, and Tony couldn’t help but let out a bark of stunned laughter.

.-.

Tony didn’t want to say he forgot all about Steve shining his shoes. It was just that between events where he had to wear suits and loafers, he really just liked to skip shoes altogether, preferring slippers but donning sneakers if he needed to keep his feet safe in the lab. He was always painfully aware of it when he got home from an event and slipped them off, though. ‘Steve is going to clean these for me’ was always at the forefront of his mind as he forewent putting them away every time. He’d tried to put them in his closet since, but Steve had shrugged his effort off, and he’d come to realize that was part of Steve’s… ritual?

“I like doing these things for you,” Steve had said when he’d found him worrying over it again, and Tony still felt a warm squirminess in his gut every time he remembered how earnest Steve had been.

Still. It did make him feel awkward sometimes. Steve’s hobbies were all very hands-on, and he was particular about his tools. He’d only just recently let Tony start buying him paint. Tony had offered to pay for some of the polishing equipment, and Steve had just slanted him an unimpressed frown and said no. It had made Tony blush at the time for some reason. He was not going to examine why that was. Steve’s smirk when he realized Tony liked something was already dangerous. He wasn’t going to give him more ammunition.

Tony didn’t think he’d even make it out of his shoes this time, though. His board of directors meeting had run over, and he had the choice of sitting and dissociating with a sandwich or changing his clothes before the next one, shareholders or something; Pepper had reminded him as they’d parted, but he couldn’t remember after the drudgery of the first one. He’d decided he needed food more. His sandwich purported to be turkey and cheese, but it mostly tasted like exhaustion. He considered giving up eating to just stare blankly into space.

Then he felt a pair of hands carefully wrapping around his ankle and foot. His leg was being lifted. Tony blinked at his sandwich for a moment, but it didn’t hold any answers, so he reluctantly followed the length of his leg with his eyes. Steve had dragged a chair over to sit across from him and had lifted his foot to plant it against his thigh. Tony blinked again, taking another bite of his sandwich. When he saw Steve grabbing for a length of cloth, though, he managed, “I don’t have time to change shoes.”

“You don’t need to,” Steve replied easily, shifting his thigh until he liked the angle of Tony’s ankle. “I’m just doing a quick touch-up.” He adjusted his grip on the cloth, then gave it a sharp snap, and the crack of the fabric cutting the air drew Tony’s eyes down to it in shock. “Did someone step on your foot at the meeting? Rude.”

Tony looked at the scuff marks on the left toe of his shoe. They weren’t that bad. He doubted anyone at his next meeting would have even noticed. Still, Steve wanted to do this for him, and he was learning that it was okay to want that, so he let Steve begin moving the cloth back and forth vigorously to remove all the marks. After a moment, when he remembered that he’d been asked something, he added, “It was Pepper.”

Steve let out a huff, half amusement and half annoyance. “Well, I guess I can’t yell at her about not mussing up your shoes then, huh? She was probably keeping you from pissin’ someone off.”

Tony didn’t even bother with giving that an answer. Instead, he just watched Steve work, remembering every once in a while to take a bite of his sandwich. The scuff marks quickly disappeared under his careful attention, and Tony could swear he could feel the heat of Steve’s thigh through the red sole of his shoe. It was… nice. Having this little moment. Feeling cared for. And it helped to know that Steve wanted to do this for him. Tony tipped his head back for a moment, letting his eyes drift shut as Steve examined his reflection in the toe of his shoe. “Should have you take a look at my belts,” he murmured. Those saw a lot more use than his fancy dress shoes.

“I’ve been taking care of your belts,” Steve answered, steady and matter-of-fact, just like his movements. Tony blinked his eyes open again in shock to find Steve looking up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Anything in that closet that’s made of leather? I take care of it.”

Tony opened his mouth, but nothing came out. That Steve shined his shoes had been a shock, but at least they’d made sense, especially with the explanation of having done it in the forties. But his belts? Did he also mean the leather bands of his watches? It’d certainly explain why the leather cuffs they used in bed always looked sleek and shiny, he realized with a vague choking noise.

Steve leaned back in his seat, lips spreading into that smirk he always got when he made Tony speechless. He wrapped his hand around Tony’s ankle and gave it a firm but gentle squeeze, and it sent a thrum of heat through him. “Everything,” he drawled again, punctuating each syllable in a way that each one sent a punch of heat right into Tony’s gut.

“Why’d you say it like that,” Tony choked out, hoping he didn’t sound as aroused as he felt.

Steve’s grip on his ankle tightened before he dragged his fingers down to play with the laces of his shoe. “Is there something you’d like to tell me, Tony?” he asked instead. He was still smirking at him.

Tony felt himself flushing against his will. “No,” he answered, fighting down the urge to squirm under his penetrating stare. Unfortunately, even to his own ears, he could hear the lie in his answer.

“Oh,” Steve said, disbelief dripping from the word even as he nodded in agreement. He very casually tossed his arm over the back of his seat, lounging in it in such a way that it made his jeans stretch attractively around his thighs. “So that riding crop I cleaned and oiled, that belongs to someone else?”

Tony opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He’d hidden the riding crop away when Steve had moved in. Telling him about it hadn’t even crossed his mind. Steve was more of a hands-on guy—he was more likely to use his palm to spank him rather than a tool like a riding crop. And he was so good at it, Tony never really felt the urge to ask for more.

Steve’s fingers caught one of the ends of his laces and pulled, and Tony watched as his shoe came untied as if in slow motion. His mouth went dry. He was vaguely aware of his sandwich falling out of his lax fingers and knew he’d probably be annoyed later. Right now, though, he was focused on Steve’s long, clever fingers picking his laces loose, being careful not to even touch the leather of his shoes with his fingernails.

“If you like leather toys, I can take care of those, too,” Steve continued, hooking his hand behind Tony’s ankle so he could grab the shoe with his other one and carefully pull it free of his foot. “Suede, too, if you like floggers. I can get the stains out and everything.”

“Steve,” Tony whispered, because he knew if he spoke, his voice would shake. He swallowed thickly. He’d never used a flogger before. Hadn’t trusted anyone to use it on him properly. But as Steve gently but firmly reached for his other foot to pull that shoe off too, he could image Steve with one in his hand, carefully using an eraser to smudge the stains off each piece of fabric, cleaning and caring for it just as perfectly as he did everything else Tony owned. “My meeting,” he tried, swallowing to try and wet his throat.

Steve slanted a glance up at him. He was still smirking. Tony swallowed again. He was pretty sure that he wasn’t going to make it to his next meeting. “I think you should help me break in my new harness. Gotta make sure it holds up to prolonged sweat.” He slid his hand up Tony’s calf, flicking his sock garter open easily. “And other fluids, I’m sure.”

“Like anything I produce is going to be the same as alien gore,” Tony said, trying to cut through the tension between them.

Steve’s smirk didn’t falter. “No, but it’s always nice to practice cleaning something… especially soiled.”

“…That’s not sexy,” Tony started. “‘Soiled’ isn’t a—”

“I’m gonna make you come so hard it gets on the harness. Fuck you so stupid you drool all over it, too,” Steve told him, stern and sure, in a way that rekindled the heat between them tenfold. He reached out to grab Tony’s tie and pull so he was forced to sit up more in his seat, eyes dark. “And then I’m gonna make you lick it clean. Really give myself a challenge to make it look good as new, as if I hadn’t fucked you raw wearin’ it.” He wrapped the tie around his hand, dragging Tony in closer, so he could breathe across his lips. “Would you like that, honey? You wanna help me break in my new harness?”

Tony whimpered, and part of him sincerely hoped he was awake to watch Steve clean the harness after they were… finished? With it? Something about the meticulous focus he had when he did it made something simmer hot in his belly, especially if Tony was still wearing whatever he was cleaning. “My meeting,” he tried helplessly.

“You knew you weren’t gonna make it to that meeting as soon as I put your foot on my thigh,” Steve said, voice pitched low and dark, and Tony hoped that JARVIS would make reasonable excuses for him.

[ebullientheart]

sidetrack. aaron hotchner x reader

content — hurt comfort. swearing. mention of hotch’s divorce. gn!reader. short fic. established relationship.

aaron doesn’t want to make the same mistake twice. or sidetrack, by catfish and the bottlemen.

aaron hotchner was an fbi agent. to achieve that, he, like all, had to pass his physical fitness test to go into the field. but he was seriously wondering how effective that was, because as he dived off the bau’s jet and let his feet carry him over the wind to his car, the breath was knocked entirely from his body.

his satnav insisted the bridge was the quickest route home, but it felt longer in the silence. he couldn’t bring himself to slow down and switch on the radio. not when he’d woken to such a simple message from you — “give jack a kiss.” he knew, rationally, that you were just kidding, referring to a photo of jack puckering up to the camera before going to bed. but it set off haley’s last words before she left, and they were knocking at his temples like hammers. you had to be there when he got home. you had to.

aaron turned off home when he was at work, or at least he tried to. sometimes he thought about you telling him that he was everything you wanted. but he strove to keep his mind focused. if he didn’t, all he could think about was losing the life you had together, and that was unacceptable. he never wanted to feel the backlash of you turning from him. he never wanted to feel that way again.

had he been too caught up in work again? he struggled to remember.

everytime he apologised, you’d look at him with this endless patience that he felt undeserving of. he felt too responsible for it all. you promised you’d wait for him. would you wait for him?

the satnav beeped that this was the quickest route. he wasn’t convinced.

at a red light, he rested his head on the steering wheel for a few moments. he’d been short with you the night prior, when you rang to say goodnight, all loving and affectionate, and he’d had little to say back. a sincere whisper of love, but he was sure you were frowning on the other end of the line. it made him go mad to consider you weren’t getting back the endless love you threw at him. aaron needed you to know that he loved you. to really know it.

fuck this. he spun his car into the next lane, pissing off the drivers behind him and his satnav. he switched it off, confident he knew better. he was right. he needed to be with you as soon as possible, to make sure you were tangible. nothing ever good comes when there’s nothing on the line. something you told him a long time ago. did you know he used it like a mantra?

the door opened quietly. he might have been half delirious at that point, but he knew his son was well tucked into bed at this time of night. you probably had a hard time getting him down, he didn’t want your work for be to nothing. and you might be in bed too. he told you he’d be back that night, but he said things like that a lot.

he thought his heart was going to give out, constricting so tightly as he took in the scene before him. you were still wearing your jeans, and one of his college sweatshirts, curled into the sofa with a book hanging loosely from your grasp. you had tried to wait up. you believed him when he said he’d be back.

aaron crossed the carpet, imagining you scolding him for not taking his shoes off first. gently, he took the book and marked the page you were gripping so you wouldn’t lose it. he didn’t mean to wake you up, but your eyes were fluttering open at his movement and the adrenaline coursed through your body as you recognised his face.

before he could get a good footing, you shot up and threw yourself toward him with the energy infected in you by his son. your arms were around his neck and your legs were around his waist. instinctively, he held onto you as he stumbled back, managing to keep the two of you upright as you clung to him, reminiscent of a koala. his hands curled under your thighs as he shifted you slightly off his bad hip, thinking that he definitely needed to check on that fitness test.

“i didn’t mean to wake you, honey, i’m sorry.” he mumbled first, but you covered his mouth with your palm, ignoring the awkward position it put your elbow at. you shushed him lightly and pressed a chaste kiss to his downturned lips.

“no apologies, not right now.”

with his hands occupied, he used his head to make sure you were looking resolutely at him. he needed you to see his words, not just hear them.

“i love you.”

[kairiscorner]

damn you guys really do love him i love him too dammit

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

spider noir x grumpy fem!reader

(the reader will have female pronouns :>)

'i can't anymore with that woman, how else can i keep a queen like her happy when i don't understand where her attitude's coming from?' peter thinks as he inhales a puff of cigarette smoke and clicks his tongue. he sighs as he leans against his reclining chair and tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair.

peter was, and is, incredibly patient; he doesn't let snide comments or small punches get to him, no matter how many are thrown his way, but he can only take so much. he sighed as he took off his glasses and thought about your argument with him earlier. he just asked if that dress you wore was new since he never saw you wear it.

but that morning, you were not in a chatty mood, so all you could do was give him 'hmm's and 'mm-mm's. "what, sugar? what's wrong? you're always a little cranky in the morning, are my hugs when we sleep not enough, darl?" he cooed to you as he gently wrapped his arms around your waist, snuggling into you as he smiled against your hair.

you grumbled under your breath as you sipped your coffee, with peter upping the ante and complimenting your beauty, your natural, raw morning beauty that he falls in love with every damn day.

"i'm serious, love, even if you're an angry little thing in the morning, i somehow fall back in love with you all the time. can i have a kiss? just a small peck, please? for your petey..." he pleads like a baby as you're on the verge of telling to go away and leave you alone right now.

you didn't want to talk to people in the morning, you had so much to take in as the day settled in, you hated it when people bothered you in the morning, it added to your contempt for the early hours of the day.

"peter, get off me." you seethed as you finished your coffee. peter's eyes widened and he did as you said without a question. "sure, love." he said as he obliged and stepped away. "well, i hope you have a good day at work, darling." he wishes you well as you put on your shoes and coat and head for the door, still smiling at you.

"this house is fucking filthy." you muttered under your breath as you struggled to put your worn out shoes on. peter looked at you with concern, you hardly swore in the house. "love, are you okay?" he asked as he put a hand on your shoulder, which you swat away.

"dammit peter, i am not in the mood right now!" you snapped at him, which caused him to shiver a little. he never saw or heard you be this angry, you were hardly raising your voice. he couldn't understand why you were like this every morning, it made him feel like he was doing something wrong, or not doing nearly enough.

peter sighed. "i'm sorry, dear, it's just... i want to please you, y'know? i'm right here if you need me." he utters in a soft, slightly pained, voice as his eyes soften and his eyebrows furrow up to show his concern.

you groaned. "i'd appreciate it if you didn't assume i need your help all the time." you snapped again as you slammed the door on your way out, not giving him another glance, or even a 'see you soon'.

peter was angry at himself for not taking the hints, for still not understanding what was wrong, if he did anything to hurt you that morning to make you unleash your unrelenting rage on him.

"what'll i do? what if she doesn't love me anymore? is that the case?" he pondered to himself sadly as he took another puff out of his cigarette. he sighed as he clicked his tongue again. "i love her so, so much... i wonder if all i've been doing is overwhelming and forcing her to love me the same way. i'd be a monster if that was the case..." he murmured to himself, his voice soft and cracking a little.

"i love her, i really, really love her. but i just can't read her sometimes, it... it confuses me." he thought aloud as he looked up and closed his eyes as he rested against the recliner. soon, the lock mechanisms of the door to your home were unlocked, and peter jolted his back up straight; you were home.

"love..." peter whispered to himself as he turned around to watch you come into the house, significantly less angry than from earlier. he turned back away from you and huffed on his cigarette yet again.

you went over to the nearest window and opened it widely. "you know smoking is going to land you in a grave eventually." you reminded him. peter sighed. " everything is going to land you in a grave eventually." he answered back as he took another huff.

you shook your head as you sat down on the chair next to his recliner. "i'm... sorry about the way i acted this morning. i thought about it a lot, and it's been eating at me." you confessed to peter, a little ashamed.

"you work so hard for me, pete, and i really should have more control of my feelings. just because i hate mornings doesn't mean my actions were justified." you continued as you moved your chair closer to peter, intertwining your fingers through his, which earned a small blush on his face.

he looked at you, who was looking down at your hand in his, and he cleared his throat and smiled. "darl, i appreciate that, so much. you have no idea how i've... i've been overthinking about if i've been any good to you as of late, i'm so damn relieved that i have been. and y'know... i'm okay even if you'll be a grump every morning." he says as he puts his other hand under your chin and grins at you.

"you're all i want and will ever want, i'm so smitten with you that even your grumpiness... it's beyond beautiful, love." he says as he plants a kiss on your cheek. a rosy red blush creeps up your cheeks as you smile up at him in response. "and even if i get mad at you for no reason?" you ask, holding his hand in yours, interlocking fingers with him, tightly. he nods. "i'll still love you."

"even if all i can give you in the morning is a grunt and a huff?" you ask with a chuckle. "still the cutest grunts and huffs i'll ever hear in my damn life." he utters as you lean against his shoulder and giggle. "and i love you, too, even if you smell like tobacco and ash." you say as he chuckles.

"thank you, my little miss grumpiness." he says as he kisses the crown of your head and holding you close to him.

he could get used to this.

tags !! @thecoolerdor

[delurkr]

I'M SORRY FOR SENDING U SO MANY ASKS

i'm planning on writing daniel and angela from little hope and i was wondering if u could maybe describe their personalities because i struggle at doing that . . . *sits in chair* of course if u don't wanna do it that's fine !

NICE so hm ok.

One thing I believe with Angela is that she's always been naturally sharp in speech and quick-witted, but now she leans even harder into being very outspoken with her criticism because she felt stifled for so long during her marriage. She's just very done with pussyfooting around people's feelings, especially with people she doesn't respect, although when someone is actually being vulnerable with her she'll drop the prickliness (like when she listens and is encouraging when Andrew talks about himself).

Relatedly, I believe she's also people-smart but not likely to update her opinions about others very often. One of her main traits is Understanding, which I think primarily applies in the sense that she is perceptive, but also it's not wrong in the sense that she'll sometimes demonstrate understanding towards people (under the right circumstances like I said). She isn't always right about people's motives though, since she's biased to more or less think the worst of people.

She can be dramatic about minor things, which would kind of seem to contrast with her self-sufficient been-through-the-trenches old war dog persona that she pushes, but I think sometimes the overreacting about things like her shoes in the middle of a bad situation is part of the persona in a way, almost like she's carrying on as usual because she's so unfazed by the big things, if that makes sense. I see the drama as also being a deflection, because while she's happy to remind everyone that she's survived hardship she also doesn't tend to want to open up about the degree to which she's actually affected by it.

Lastly on her, I'll say that she has firm opinions on what's right and what's not (in the moral sense as well as just her personal preference) and that she tends to be an outspoken observer as opposed to wanting to get in the mix and actually change things, but she's driven to get things done when she sees a need for it.

Daniel is quick to react, doesn't put a lot of thought into what he does before doing it, and, I would say, isn't too self-conscious most of the time. He's not one to read between the lines on probably anything, so if he's feeling particularly insecure he'll question if he's a problem in whatever way is relevant in a given situation, but otherwise he'll probably be coasting clueless about any issues deeper than what he sees on the surface. I feel like more subconsciously he absorbs tension and gives out what he gets in most of his dynamics though, which plays into his Defensive trait which I'll get to.

He can be quite broody, and I'd say he's the one most likely to have mood swings, for which more often than not he'll be able to tell the reason why. Not because he's introspective (he's not), but he just doesn't really hold back on his emotions as soon as he feels them. He spends more time being generally even-keeled though because he's also pretty easy going (and therefore I believe easily underestimated, in-universe by Taylor specifically when she's toying with him in a negative arc, but also by players who think his character is bland). Other people being aggravating seems to roll off him without him holding anything against them, and it's specifically when things involve Taylor when he gets more upset, and also when he can't understand why people are doing the bad things they do, because he's very kind-hearted and doesn't like to see suffering.

His Defensive trait is interesting, because he can be quick to match people's energy and clap back when someone pushes him too far, but he kind of wears his heart on his sleeve anyway so I don't believe it's accurate to say he actually maintains a tough exterior. The other sense of the word is that he's defensive about what he sees as his, property and especially people and especially Taylor. (It's when Angela makes digs at Taylor that he gets upset with Angela, otherwise she doesn't really irritate him.) And he's sensitive to injustice and reacts to it reflexively, like he's often picking (and switching) sides to defend whoever he sees as the injured party during the game.

Relatedly I think there's a sense in which he often feels responsible for others and takes that seriously. He likes to lean into the "knight in shining armor" role (particularly with Angela and Taylor) whether or not anyone asked for it. He's pretty idealistic and likes something to fight for and measure up to, and unless he's down in the dumps himself, in which case he's not unlikely to drag others down with him, he's generally trying to bolster the others up and smooth things over. I don't believe he's mature enough to be good at it though, (link to previous statements about him matching tension), but he gets frustrated when his efforts aren't appreciated because he's probably doing all he knows to do. Last note that he's not naturally out to reinvent traditional things like gender roles in regards to his own behavior, which sometimes works in his favor and sometimes doesn't.

Those are some things that came to mind and as usual anyone is free to add on or explain why I'm wrong lol, but I hope there's something that helps ❤️

[mossy-thing]

I posted the second chapter! Read it here or on ao3.

Chapter 1; chapter 3

And why it was Tomorrow came (and with his grey hand led us back)

Chapter 2

Important tags: off screen violence, children in dangerous situations, kidnap fam, murder of orcs (probably. Just don't think too hard on it), implied food rationing

Summary: In which Elrond wakes up, Elros is a little gremlin horder, and I have far too much fun writing their bickering until I remember what my plot was supposed to be.

“What’s going on,” Elrond slurred as he was pulled into a sitting position, still half in the dream, half feeling the sand between his toes, but in a matter of seconds, it was gone. It was loud outside, he realized suddenly, and frowned as he wondered why it hadn’t woken him.

“Get up.”

Maedhros had already moved on to his brother on the other side of the narrow room to shake him before Elrond even had the chance to open his eyes properly, but glancing at him now confirmed that he was wearing his armor. He had been confused, but now he was alarmed, throwing the threadbare blanket back. He felt the cold floor beneath his bare feet before he realized he was standing. “Are we under attack?” 

He reached for his dagger under the pillow, holding onto it tightly just as he had wished he could have in the dream as the noise he could hear fell into place. Shouting. Marching. It was still a bit away, but he was sure that whoever they were, they would reach their little tower soon. Had a light alarmed them of their presence? He hoped they were only orcs.

“Yes. Put on your shoes, and a coat. There’s no time for anything else.”

When Elrond and Elros had been younger, Elrond remembered numbly while stepping into his shoes, they had sometimes wondered what it would be like to be attacked by other elves. To be stolen back, and brought to some distant kinsmen, who would raise them far away from battles and wars, dragons and kinslayers. They had told each other stories without uttering a single word, staring into the other’s eyes under a shared blanket. Elros was reaching out to him now, like that, as soon as he woke up, and for a moment, Elrond saw Maedhros’ grim eyes in place of the clasp of the cloak he was struggling to close with one hand.

Maedhros left the room. He was probably standing in front of the door, his sword drawn, guarding the children his brother was so fond of until they were ready to be hidden away safely. Maglor would be outside, then, preparing himself to fight. Elrond hoped whatever little place Maedhros would find to lock them in until danger had passed would be soundproof enough that Maglors singing wouldn’t be ringing in his ears for days like it had done in their last shelter. 

Elros took his hand when he had fastened his own cloak, and they knocked at the door. Maedhros opened it and left without throwing even a glance their way. They followed him, taking three steps for one of his. 

At least he isn’t throwing us over his shoulders anymore, Elros thought, shooting him a tired smile, and Elrond smiled back. Luckily, they had grown big enough some time ago that Maedhros had the excuse not to carry them anymore. He didn’t like touching them, nearly anyone, really, Elrond knew, and he and his twin didn’t either. It brought back uncomfortable memories that neither of them could quite recall anymore. 

“In there,” Maedhros huffed, shoved them into a closet and shut the door. For a moment, they could hear him pulling things across the floor to barricade the door with, then, after shoving twice at whatever he had used to lock them in and everything else out, the sound of his footsteps grew quieter, and eventually disappeared entirely. Outside, the noise drew closer. 

They sat together in the dark, holding hands and barely daring to breathe. 

Do you want bread? Elros eventually asked through ósanwe, just before the first tell tale clanging of metal on metal rang from outside their little hiding place, and Elrond startled. 

Where did you get bread?

It’s old. He thought his twin might be smiling, and he anxiously listened to the rustle of fabric as Elros presumably pulled a bundle from a pocket in his coat, not letting go of his hand. Do you remember the group of Avari we passed a while ago? The ones who kept trying to sell us stuff?

Elrond blinked. But that was a month ago! You spent money on bread and then didn’t tell anyone because you were keeping it in your coat for a whole month? Maedhros would kill him, if he found out. Or, well, he would not speak to him for a very long time. Well, speak to him less.

You kept complaining you were hungry last time!

There is no way that thing is still edible. He almost felt like laughing, but the sound died before the thought of it could be wholly formed when a sharp wail rang from outside. They held their breath, until Elros thought, I don’t think that was an elf, and Elrond nodded. He swallowed. 

We could just keep it in our mouths for a really long time, Elros thought, bringing them back to their conversation. Let the spit make it soft and stuff. 

You are so gross. 

You’re gross! 

Elrond smiled. I got my dagger, he told Elros. If you want to share it. 

Elros carefully pushed a very solid shape into his free hand, and Elrond tried to look at it. It was so dark he could hardly see anything, but what he did see looked very much like a stone, and felt about the same. He knocked it against the floor of their cramped closet, and it made a noise that was loud enough that they held their breaths, listening for any threat that might have made it inside, past the two Fëanorians, a threat that might be alarmed of their presence. 

But they heard nothing but the clashing of swords and the screaming of curses. 

What did you do that for, Elros shot at him, in the very same moment Elrond thought, And you are really sure this is not just a stone you found?

Elros huffed. Why don’t you try it, if you’re so convinced you’ll break your teeth on it? I swear, I do one nice thing for you… 

Elrond ignored his brother’s mumbling and awkwardly moved his legs to make room to work on the ground, placed his dagger on the bread-stone and started dragging it carefully across its surface. It made an uncomfortably loud sound.

I dreamt of the Cottage, he thought, suddenly remembering it, and added, before Maedhros woke us. 

Was that girl with the red twintails there? Elros asked without missing a heartbeat. Because I did ask you to throw a stone at her if you saw her when I wasn’t there – 

I didn’t exactly make it all the way to the cottage. Elrond chose to ignore the feud his twin had with a Nandorian child, something that had started because of a doll in a tree and worked itself up into a small war his twin kept trying to involve him in. I got… held up at the beach.

Held up? Elros repeated, a confused tone to his thought. By what? 

Elrond frowned. You know how there are others there too? The ones who don’t see us?

Elros grinned. Yes. Do you remember that time we spelled out Ulmo’s wrath lies upon ye in the sand and scared those Vanyar half to death? 

Elrond frowned. You mean, that time you scared those Vanyar half to death. I didn’t do anything.

That’s because you’re boring! Elros shuffled in the dark and adjusted his hold on Elrond’s hand, pulling him closer. How’s the bread coming along? I’m hungry.

And I am working on it. He was already half way through the once-soft piece of bread, but stopped his steady sawing for a moment to think. One of the elves there saw me. 

It was quiet for a while. Elrond continued sawing away at the bread and Elros was staring at him in mute confusion. Even the battle outside had seemed to have halted its bloodthirsty fury, as if the entire world had pecked up their ears, was leaning in, listening. Elrond found he did not like that idea at all. 

Elros made a little sound, a hesitant “Huh,” before thinking, carefully, That is very odd. 

The noise outside resumed and Elrond put the knife aside to try and break the bread the rest of the way over his knee.

He failed. 

What did she look like?

I didn’t say they were a woman.

Elros was quiet. 

Elros?

Just a hunch. 

It almost seemed like he wanted to add something, but then a high tone finally shook the foundations of the tower, haunting and terribly loud, and in the attempt to shield it out and stop the sudden urge to levitate that had come over their bodies, they both forgot their conversation entirely. They were sitting in silence again when a very relieved Maglor opened the door and pulled them into his arms. After he let them go after a long while, a cut on his arm had closed entirely, not even leaving a scar behind, but he did not seem to notice.

They did not get to try the bread that night, but at least it was cut now.

[princess-glassred]

Fuck it, Reddie Barbie Island Princess au.

Richie's just this poor castaway prince with no memories of who he is or why he's even there, all he has is a little busted up trunk full of clothes labeled "Rich". He's grown up on this island with nobody but his animal friends to keep him company, so to keep himself entertained he developed the habit of doing impression and little bits with his animal friends. One day though, a boat docks on the island with a prince named Eddie on board and Richie's whole world gets flipped upside down. Prince Eddie is always going on adventures and running away from his responsibilities because of his crazy ass mother, so he's made it his life mission to travel the world with his royal assistant Mike and study all kinds of natural dangers to keep his kingdom healthier and safer.

Upon meeting Richie Eddie is taken aback by his weird animal friends and their weird human names like Bill and Benjamin, but he tells Richie if he wants to find out where he came from he can always come back home with them. He agrees, but once Richie gets to the palace things go pretty hay wire. Queen Sonia is very dispealed to see this weird uncivilized wild man in her palace, he's flilthy, hqs scraggly trangled hair, no shoes, and the only piece of clothing he has on is a ripped up towl tied around his waist. She seems resistant to let him stay, but even Sonia Kaspbrak is capable of pity sometimes, so she gives him a week to stay and try and find his family. While he's there Eddie also points out to his mom that Richie doesn't seem to be able to see very well and they get him an optometrist and some swanky new glasses.

Not everythings all sunshine and rainbows in this kingdom though, because Sonia is currently trying to match Eddie up with another prince naned Connor, even though neither of them seem interested in each other too much. They just have too many differences, they don't click, Connor would much rather stay home and play games all day and accept his uncle and cousins, errr "flaws", while Eddie is desperate to break out of the chains that bind him. Besides, Connor can kind of tell Eddie likes Richie, but he's not jealous at all. He's actually (besides Eddie) the only person at the palace who is always nice to him and actively tries to help him when he's struggling with fitting in. He's not a bad kid at all, but he does long for some one to really love him, especially since his cousin and uncle are INSISTENT love is for peasants.

Richie tries so very hard to acclimate and be part of higher society, he slicks his hair back, he wears a random ugly suit sonia gives him, he tries to drink tea all proper like, but Butch and Henry humiliate him so Sonia still doesn't accept him. Butch and Henry are really just out here trying to play the long game, using Connor as a way to marry into royalty so they can get close to the royal family and kill 'em all as revenge for something unfortunate that happened in their past.

But don't worry! They get defeated, so Eddie's okay! and Richie even gets to reconnect with his mother Maggie in a really emotional reunion. Hooray!