#black laser cut dress

[zepskies]

Imagine: Soldier Boy Getting Jealous...

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader || (past Frenchie x F. Reader)

Request: Soldier Boy finding out you had something with Frenchie, years before meeting him.

Word Count: 1K

Tags/Warnings: Jealousy lol (With a hint of spice.~)

Imagine: Ben getting jealous over your past relationship with Frenchie.

He doesn't care.

Because he doesn't care...

When you sit him down in the living room of your apartment and tell him you used to date Frenchie, Ben's reaction is mild at best. To the point where it kind of concerns you.

Ben raises a brow and gives a deep hum.

"Oh, really? That limey bastard?" he remarks. He takes a sip from his tumbler of whiskey. You give him a weary sigh.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't call him that," you reply. You and Frenchie are still friends. Your "entanglement" was years ago, before he even started hooking up with Cherie.

But you still want to be honest with Ben. You two have been dating for a few months now, and it's actually serious. No one's more surprised than you by that fact, but...you're happy. You think he is too.

At your response, however, Ben rolls his eyes and continues drinking. You tilt your head in suspicion.

"So you're chill?" you ask.

"Chill?" he quirks a brow at you. Your lips form a smile.

"You're okay with this," you amend.

Ben shrugs and turns on the TV, trying to navigate the streaming apps. You’d put him on to Game of Thrones. Even three seasons into his binge-watching, he doesn’t want to admit that he’s hooked.

"You're fucking a real man now, sweetheart. No skin off my nose," he says.

It's your turn to roll your eyes, despite a warm blush stinging your cheeks.

But the next time you all go out together to a club in the city, Ben watches you leave his side to say hello to your friends: Annie, Hughie, Frenchie and Kimiko. Frenchie takes your hands and makes a show of looking you up and down.

"Well, well. She shoots to kill tonight, eh?" Frenchie says. When he leans in to kiss your cheek, he whispers, "Ah, black leather. My old favorite."

"Stop," you warn with a smile, hitting his shoulder. He's absolutely shameless. "You're too much."

"And you are just enough," Frenchie returns. He whistles playfully as he raises your hand to twirl you around, showing you off in your little black dress and red-bottom heels.

You laugh, but you bump into Ben when you twirl for the second time. Your laughter cuts off abruptly when you see the flinty look on his face, though he's clinging to stoicism.

Frenchie’s eyes widen as he seems to realize the very real danger he's put himself in. He wisely lets go of your hand, pivots on his heel and goes with Kimiko over to the dance floor.

Meanwhile, you move back to Ben's side and try to placate him by looping your arm through his. He responds by wrapping a strong arm around your waist. His eyes bore into the back of Frenchie's head so hard, you almost expect laser beams to come out of them.

"Come on, let's get a drink," you suggest, patting a hand on Ben's chest. He looks good tonight in a burgundy button-down shirt tucked into his slacks.

Ben wordlessly agrees to your suggestion, but he grabs a stool and drags it close to his own seat. He does help you by the hand onto the stool, but then his arm wraps back around your waist, pulling you in snugly, possessively to his side.

You try not to smile in amusement. It's a caveman's display, but at least you know the root cause this time.

...Okay, maybe you feel the tiniest bit complicit, but really, you think Ben's overreacting.

After he flags down the bartender and orders his bourbon and your martini, you tap against his bearded cheek, earning his green-eyed attention.

"You okay?" you ask knowingly.

"Just fine," he deadpans.

"Oh, well that's convincing," you say with a smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm here with you?"

Ben's gaze hardens. "I don't know. You were pretty happy to let that French whore put his fucking hands all over you—"

"All right. Calm down, Rambo," you say, trying not to laugh as you rub his arm. "Sorry, baby. That's just how we've always cut up. It doesn't mean anything."

Ben scoffs in derision. "Yeah? Fuck if I care."

You frown at that, sparking with annoyance. Somehow, now you actually do feel guilty. You and Frenchie have bounced off each other like Derek and Garcia for so long, you didn't even realize how it might look...or how it might make your boyfriend feel.

Because even with all that ego and injured pride, you have a feeling there's a real sting of hurt under there.

"Hey," you say, squeezing Ben's wrist. His gaze remains stubbornly on the bartender making your drinks.

You decide to take matters more firmly into your hands.

Reaching up for his chin, you guide Ben's face toward yours and press a kiss to his lips. It's slow at first, but it soon gains in passion. His teeth graze your bottom lip, before his tongue demands entrance into your mouth with claiming purpose.

It elicits a hint of a moan from you, your fingers clenching in his hair. Your nails drag against his scalp, almost making him shudder.

Your supple lips eventually pull away from his, nice and slow.

"Your hands are the only hands I care about touching me," you say. Your expression twinkles with mischief as you toy with the zipper on the side of your dress.

"As a matter of fact, I need your help," you add. "This zipper keeps catching on something. I think it's stuck."

Quite possibly because someone got a little handsy in the cab on the way here.

Ben smirks, though he claims your lips in one more slightly rough kiss before he answers.

"Well that is a problem," he says. His eyes roam down your face, taking in your thoroughly kissed lips, and the cleavage peeking out at him from the neckline of your dress.

"Think I can give you a hand," he says, as his actual hand slips down your leg. His fingers brush along the inside of your thigh, tingling across your skin. His half-lidded gaze once again meeting yours. "Better take you out back and fix you up."

You laugh, despite the return of your blush. You cling to his shoulders, while his fingers burn a tantalizing trail upwards.

"Oh, yeah. Save me, Soldier Boy!" you tease.

He snorts in response, but he helps guide you out of your seat.

Moments later, all your friends find at the bar are two forgotten drinks and a couple of empty stools.

AN: Ah, jealous Ben. It's fun to imagine. 😂

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

"dressing up" - hotch x fem!reader

you and aaron get ready for a party at rossi's

cw: mentions of food and alcohol! preestablished relationship! besides that... none? enjoyy

1620 words

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

Another soirée at Rossi’s - red wine flowing liberally from vintage bottles, unless, of course, he’s serving acqua puzza. There will be talk of work, as always, but it will shift once Penelope smacks both palms on the table and demands a change of subject. You’re betting she'll make it thirty minutes, especially after last time, when Spencer rattled on about the particular species of earthworm he saw in a corpse. 

Rossi always demands that everyone dress nicely, too - it’s a dinner party, after all, he often says with that leisurely shrug of his shoulders. That’s why you haul ass after work to your favorite upscale boutique. You need a new dress - you wore your red one to the last two Rossi parties, and though they were roughly a month apart, you still feel guilty of being an outfit repeater. Plus, there’s nothing wrong with buying a new dress, especially if it gives you that New Outfit Self-Confidence. 

Unfortunately, though, your shopping trip after work, plus the crowd on the Metro, means that you’re running dangerously behind by the time you reach home. 

You flurry in like a tornado, kicking off your sensible work flats and haphazardly tossing everything in your hands, with the exception of your shopping bag, onto the couch on your way to the bedroom. You hear your stainless steel water bottle fall off the couch and onto the hardwood with an obnoxious clunk, and grimace as you fly into the bedroom. 

Your boyfriend sits on the cedar hope chest at the end of the bed. He’s bent at the waist, tying his shoes. “I was just about to call you,” he says by way of greeting, looking up and sideways at you as he hunches over to loop the black laces of his loafers. “You’re running a little late, honey.” 

“Thanks, Aaron, that’s super helpful,” you spew sarcastically, setting the boutique bag on the bed. Unceremoniously, you tug your dress pants down over your tummy and your hips, then step out of them, kicking them to the side. Aaron’s on them in an instant, like a cat with one of those laser pointers, scooping them up off the floor and tossing them into the laundry hamper in the corner. 

“We have to be there at seven-thirty,” Aaron reminds you, crossing his arms over his chest. For most people, that’s a sign of displeasure. This is just Aaron’s default stance, though, and you can tell he isn’t annoyed. He’s just anxious about being tardy. 

“Baby, I know,” you snap. You love that he’s always punctual - five minutes early is already ten minutes late, he always says. Generally, you can abide by that rule. The cards are just not in your favor today. 

Aaron’s palms are held up as a white flag. “Sorry,” he says, then looks around the room dumbly. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

You’re sliding the new dress on - luckily, you already had your shapewear on for your work clothes, so changing is no big deal. The dress is a lovely forest green, with golden flowers, embroidered as if they’re growing up from the bottom hem of the skirt. You smooth your hands over the bodice, and finally meet Aaron’s eyes. 

The sunset is leaking in through the blinds, catching his profile and gilding his irises. You could swim in those deep pools for hours, searching for treasure. Your annoyance has dissipated completely after one look at him. “Can you cut the tags off?” you ask him, your voice a low whisper. 

Aaron’s gliding into the en suite, to your vanity, in an instant, a testament to how whipped you have him. He’s searching for your manicure scissors, and his back is turned to you. His suit is black, different from the gray one he wore to work today. This one is just slightly more fitted, and your eyes travel shamelessly over his rear, admiring, with a dropped jaw, just how sculpted it really is, a testament to how whipped he has you. 

You lift your arm when he returns, watching his eyes as he delicately snips the tags off the armpit part of your dress. He’s so careful, like he’s performing brain surgery, and you want to tease him for it. But there’s no time.

When Aaron’s moving back to the en suite to throw the tags away and put your scissors back in their place, you have to force your feet to shuffle over to the closet. You select a semi-comfortable pair of black heels. They don’t perfectly match your dress, but you typically end up taking your shoes off after dinner, anyway. 

Aaron’s watching from the bathroom doorway as you snap on your heels. His ever-observant eyes follow you as you step past him into the bathroom. You run the comb through your hair, and touch up your makeup quickly, carefully applying a winged eyeliner and lipgloss to elevate your look efficiently. Aaron’s eyes meet yours in the mirror, and you look back at him over your shoulder, scrunching your nose playfully.

When you’re done in the bathroom, you float over to your dresser to select a pair of earrings from the jewelry box Aaron got you for your birthday. Gold hoops soon adorn your ears, and you pull a golden chain necklace from the jewelry box, complete with a charm in the middle that looks like a knot. 

You take the necklace over to Aaron, and without saying anything, you stand before him, back turned. He gathers your hair in one hand and sweeps it aside. “Hold this for me,” he murmurs concentratedly, and you reach your hand up to hold your hair out of the way for him. 

The need to rush out the door has suddenly vanished into thin air. 

Aaron’s breath is warm on the back of your neck. You feel goosebumps appear up and down your arms as he brings the necklace around. His fingers are ginormous, so you hear him fumble a little with the tiny clasp, but he finally snaps it in place. His thumb and forefinger trail along the chain to bring the knot charm to the front, so it rests in the center of your collarbone. 

You release your hair, and as it falls, ticklish against the back of your neck, Aaron steps around in front of you. A small smile twitches from his lips and you feel your knees wobble a little beneath you. Why does he have to look at you like that? You’re supposed to be in a hurry. “You look like Christmas,” Aaron says quietly, like maybe he didn’t mean to voice the thought, like maybe it just slipped out. 

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You laugh breathily, feeling your cheeks go pink. 

“It’s a very good thing,” Aaron assures you. His fingers close around your wrist, and he’s tugging you in for a hug. You wind your arms around his neck just as his find your waist. He’s crushing you to him, constricting you in the best way possible. 

“I thought we were in a hurry?” You ask, pressing your glossy lips against the column of his throat a couple of times. Your kisses are viscous because of the lipgloss, and you know you’ll have to wipe it off his neck, but for now, you don’t really care. This is the first moment you’ve had with Aaron since waking up next to him this morning.

You inhale, your nose nudging against his neck. He smells like an idyllic autumn lake - pine, rainfall, leaves. 

Aaron’s grip around you tightens a little more, and you feel his nose nuzzling into your hair. “We can be a couple minutes late.” 

He’s not wearing a tie, you realize, as you pull away from the embrace. Your palms lay flat on his chest, straightening the collar of his white dress shirt beneath the black jacket. The top two buttons are undone, revealing the smallest bit of chest hair. You quirk your brow up when you meet his eye. “No tie?” 

Aaron shakes his head. “No tie,” he confirms. “Going for laid-back, super casual.” 

“That lines up with your personality,” you snicker, licking your thumb and using it to wipe the lipgloss off his neck. 

“Do I look like Magnum, P.I?” He asks as you step back. He straightens his jacket. 

You burst out laughing. “Absolutely not,” you giggle, and Aaron rolls his eyes. “You’re not wearing a Hawaiian shirt, nor do you have a mustache,” you remind him, taking his hand. His fingers trail along your palm before twining with yours. 

“I could grow a mustache,” he proffers, his lips a straight line, the closest thing he does to pouting. 

You lead Aaron out into the living room, shaking your head and laughing. “No, baby, you look like James Bond,” you tell him, letting go of his hand and reaching over the back of the couch to grab your purse. You sling it over your shoulder. 

You catch Aaron looking at himself in the ornamental mirror on the wall and smirk. “I think I like that better than Magnum, P.I,” he muses. 

“It is better than Magnum, P.I,” you shrug, heading for the door. You feel Aaron’s hands on your hips from behind just as you reach for the doorknob. He squeezes your hips and kisses the back of your neck. “Aaron,” you whine a little, just as Aaron guides you to the side for the sole purpose of being able to open the door for you. 

“Come on, honey,” he teases, facing you in the open doorway and tugging your hand. “Rossi’ll be mad if he has to wait on us to serve appetizers.”

Edit: read "dressing down" here

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Tiny ideas 2

----

1. Danny, in his new and very human black and white vigilante outfit runs past Penguin who had gotten soaked when a car full of hooligans wearing clown masks ran threw a puddle and splashed him.

Danny, not knowing who this was, tapped him on the shoulder as he ran past, running his intangibility through the man and letting the water fall off him, leaving him nice and dry again.

Penguin makes note to pay both back in very different ways.

----

2. Phantom, having been exorcisized from Amity Park and essentially banished and unable to return, roams around the multiverse looking for something to do.

Upon coming across the creepiest doll hes ever seen in a trash bin, he decides to mess with some local bat themed vigilantes and possesses the doll.

His first victim is Red Robin. Danny in all his creepy doll glory toddles out from behind a chimney as his target is running across the rooftop in his direction. Birdy stopped dead (heh) and stared at the doll.

Danny picked good. The doll was porcelain and cracked, missing one of its glass eyes and moss growing out of the empty socket and around various parts of its body. Its dress was once a lovely blue or green velvet but was now patchy and worn.

He turned the dolls head around at an unnatural angle to fix its gaze on the vigilante, its frozen polite smile adding to its eerieness, and in a moment of impulse said, "I'll see you soon." In the most creepiest little girl voice he could manage, using his ghost powers to make the words seem to drift upon the air towards the hero.

And just like that, doll Danny was gone.

RR almost frantically contacted oracle, "Did you see that?!"

"RR your signal cut out for a few minutes, backup should arrive soon. What happened?"

-----

3. Jason has been getting followed around by this wierd kid who is prime Brucie adoption bait. Kid kept jumping out of nowhere without anyone being able to sense him to ask him the weirdest questions (Damian was so startled that he nearly stabbed the kid on reflex. Not that he'd ever admit it).

The questions where things like, "Do you like books? What are your favorites? Can you cook? Do you like red heads? Do you like dogs? How opposed are you to having supervillian in-laws? What if they give you free experimental weaponry? ....how about some laser cannons and a jet?

Jason ends up getting kidnapped by this kid and dumped in from of this pretty girl as the kid tells her, "I went out and got you a boyfriend who won't try to murder you. Don't screw this up!" Before the kid ran out of the room.

Jazz was mortified.

Jason is still on the floor where he was deposited earlier, "So..." he begins, "I heard you like Jane Austin?"

-----

4. Phantom faked his death in front of the people of Amity Park, just to see how they would react to his passing and kind of in hopes of something changing. He couldn't keep sacrificing everything for these people, after all.

He did not like how the people reacted. Danny had to move away cause if he heard one more person say it was a good thing "that monster" died hes going to hurt someone.

Gotham seemed lovely this time of year and its one place that neither his parents or Vlad would visit. Vlad because if he tried anything at all the worlds greatest detective would ruin him and his parents because they once tried to hunt Batman and Robin only for Batman to terrify them to the point of never returning after they hurt his bird.

Danny got hired at Wayne Tech after submitting a wide range of devices but couldn't do much thanks to still being a minor. Thankfully Mr. Wayne was very generous and kept him housed and fed while he finished his online schooling and graduated early.

(Heavy angst for Danny.)

---

5. Danny hadn't seen Cujo in a while, which wasn't too unusual, but it have been a long time since hed seen his puppy and he was overdue a visit.

Danny pulled out his dog whistle, one normally used for emergencies and that Cujo would never ever ignore.

Only...Cujo didn't come. Now Danny goes on a journey to track down his missing dog. Following clues and trails across different realities, dimensions and universes to find his lost dog.

He did not expect to meet a bird themed vigilante along the way, not for them to insist he help him on his quest. Robin seemed very wary of the Infinite Realms the first time he entered them and had tons of questions. But bird boy was great company and Cujo would love him so Danny could deal.

[neiptune]

the best of you belongs to me

c/w: 2k wc, strangers to lovers, so fucking self indulgent, nagi exceeds all expectations and is actually the perfect boyfriend <3

There are quite a few things that people who know Nagi Seishiro don’t believe he’s suited for.

College, because he’s in his mid twenties, already works as a professional football player and wouldn’t be interested in pursuing anything else.

Friendships, because every person in his life has found themself there by mere coincidence and he definitely doesn’t look like the kinda person who would care whether they’re there or not.

Living on his own, because god forbid someone as lazy and demotivated as himself should be looking after a whole apartment and his persona at the same time. Not that he needs to, with all that money, but he’s surely way too lethargic to even consider going through the hassle of hiring someone to do all those things for him.

Relationships, because Nagi Seishiro isn’t interested in other people, let alone women, and he would be incapable of committing to the effort needed to even think about dating someone.

Some people, none of his closest friends, believe his unnatural talent at succeeding is outrageous: the boy is just insanely lucky and gifted with a golden instinct that saved him from becoming a complete waste of space. Underneath all the admiration Nagi is flooded with each day there’s raw envy and bitterness because such is the human nature. But why should that even matter? Even if he knew, Nagi Seishiro wouldn’t bring himself to care. It’s just how he is.

Except he went beyond all that in no time, when you first had met him at Isagi’s birthday party.

Yoichi’s always been one of your closest friends, ever since high school, and although the years and your respective busy schedules have played their bitter part in keeping you separated, you knew as he knew you were always just one call away from each other. When you had casually texted him about being in town, you didn’t even expect him to be in Japan as he’s almost always traveling overseas. But he was and to make it up for the fact that he couldn’t join you for coffee because he had practice, he invited you to his apartment for the birthday party he was planning to have the following evening.

“Yeah, not sure that’s a good idea”

“It’s the perfect idea! If you’re worrying about bringing a gift, I don’t want one”

“I’m worrying about not knowing any of your friends!”

“You know me! C’mon, I really wanna see you”

And so you picked the only dress still neatly folded in your suitcase, packed just in case, and made your way downtown a few hours prior to the party to hopefully find a birthday present Yoichi would actually like. Eventually, you settled for a full grain customizable leather backpack: the shop owner was nice enough to add a laser engraving of your friend’s initials, which you thought was a nice, thoughtful touch.

You slipped a card inside the classy bag the gift was packaged in, one with the drawing of a soccer ball and “hope you have a ball on your special day!” written underneath it.

So that it doesn’t get mixed up with someone else’s when you travel! Happy birthday Yoi, love you x

Too fucking bad the weather decided to take a completely different turn as soon as you stepped out of the subway to make your way across the urban oasis that’s Shirokane, which resulted in you arriving at your friend’s apartment absolutely soaked. You patiently ignored the stares collected while waiting for the elevator in the luxurious entrance lobby, too busy making sure you were able to keep Yoichi’s gift dry.

When he opened the door with a warm smile splitting his face right away, arms were closed tightly around you in a second, warnings about being drenched swallowed by his usual affection. He did, however, take a small step back, surprised as his black button down was no longer nice and dry but still cut off your apologies by quite literally dragging you inside.

“Come in, you have to meet everyone!”

“Yoichi, wait—”

“What’s that in your hand? I told you I didn’t want anything!”

“Yoichi!”

All your protests and resistance proved to be absolutely useless as you found yourself thrown in the middle of a sparkly living room, filled with men scattered everywhere. The soft background music coming from your friend’s portable speakers wasn’t enough to tone down your entrance and, suddenly, most eyes were on you.

Isagi, ever the trusty man, stayed by your side when he introduced you to the whole goddamn room as one of his oldest best friends as you stood there embarrassed and anxious, with droplets dripping down from your clothes and hair to the parquet floors.

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you!” a short giggle followed an enthusiastic, thin voice and you turned to your right to find a friendly guy smiling fondly in a way that seemed so genuine you couldn’t hold back a smile in turn.

“Uh, hi, I’m happy to meet you t—” but his ochre eyes cut you off as they left your uncertain features to glare at Isagi, still standing proudly next to you with an arm around your shoulders “hey, this sweet girl’s gonna catch a cold, give her a change of clothes”

As realization finally dawned on him, your friend opened his mouth and then closed it a few times, taken aback.

“Oh, fuck, right! Wait, gimme that” he gently took the bag from your hands and placed it on his coffee table “but what could I lend you? I don’t have any clean clothes, just some tank tops and—”

Bachira’s impatient huff was interrupted by a gentle voice coming from behind him.

“I have an extra change of clothes” the white haired guy sitting on the couch bent down to zip the black bag left next to his feet open “me and Reo had practice today” he said while casually getting up with a slight groan to hand you neatly folded sweatpants and a black long sleeve shirt.

“Why do you have an extra change of clothes?” Bachira looked at him with a skeptical frown that was barely acknowledged as the stranger let himself fall on the couch again.

“I sweat a lot”

“Who cares?” Isagi stepped in, irritated “she’s gonna catch a cold! Go change in my room and get a towel for your hair” with a gentle push to your back, he shooed you out of the room and towards the stairs.

You looked every bit as ridiculous as one could guess, clothes way too baggy and long as your poor dress was left to dry in Isagi’s bathroom. While you patted your hair with a clean towel, you couldn’t help but cautiously pinch the collar of the shirt and sniff at the soft fabric. It smelled nice, of a fresh cleanliness that reminded you of baby powder.

When you sheepishly made your way back downstairs, the overall welcome was far warmer and already filled with a sweet, familiar flavor. Isagi’s friends were nice, funny in their excitement when having debates over matches and considerate when it came to not making you feel left out.

You sat on che couch opposite to the one where your savior was chilling, lazily listening to whatever his buddy was telling him. You had to inch forward and gently graze his knee to bring his attention to you, hazel gaze shortly traveling from your features to how his clothes sat on a body that was definitely not meant to wear them. Nagi just shrugged at your “thank you”, he didn’t mirror your smile nor he introduced himself, but he kept his eyes on you as Bachira resumed his questions about how Isagi was in high school and Kunigami offered you a beer to warm you up.

It was a nice night, one that left you with your cheeks hurting from how much you had been smiling. Catching up with Isagi was nice and even if to this day you still have no idea how he managed to sneakily save his number in your phone under the name of “Bachi”, getting to meet him and everyone else filled your heart with comforting joy. Finding new friends as an adult can be hard and having moved to an entirely different city definitely didn’t help, but the atmosphere in Isagi’s apartment served as a wonderful reminder of how, sometimes, the best surprises are just a text away.

That’s what you thought, while having casual conversations with men you had never met before and the eyes of one of them were so intently focused on you it was as if they were asking for some of that attention, of those questions, to be directed their way as well.  

So you complied and, much to Isagi’s and everyone else’s quiet astonishment, Nagi actually spoke and replied and nodded and turned his body towards you and even offered a hint of a smile when Yoichi started teasing the hell out of your high school self, all worried about grades, clubs, extra curricular activities.

The reason why Nagi kept observing you throughout the night, was mere curiosity. Contrary to popular belief, there were things that could spark his interest outside videogames and football. Someone able to enter a room full of strangers and attract their sympathies right away. Someone with a pretty smile, terrible jokes and a kind spirit that resembled Isagi’s. Someone who looked way too good in his clothes, so good he was tempted to blurt out a “keep them”.

Someone who accepted a ride home from Chigiri and Kunigami at the end of the night, exhanged a long hug with her best friend and endured the one Meguru forced on her with a laugh so sweet he wished he was the one offering you a ride home.

So you were gone, dress still not entirely dry tucked in your backpack and a shy wave of a hand, one promising “I’ll give you these back as soon as I can!” that wasn’t enough to stop him from casually asking Isagi if he could’ve held another party soon enough.

“Why?”

“So you can invite her again”

He doesn’t let the laugh he receives upon the request nor Bachira’s you should’ve asked for her number, idiot embarrass him. What would he know? He’s dated sporadically, things always kept very low effort and casual, girls asking him out and him saying yes because he wanted a spark, that something to be ignited, just like it happened whenever a ball touched his feet. He didn’t like being lonely.

So you and Nagi met again, over a coffee you insisted on buying to thank him for his kindness. His freshly laundered clothes were given back to him in a yellow bag, he still remembers the disappointment of not being able to find out how your scent would feel on his shirt.

His questions about your life were genuine, despite his monotonous tone you could tell he was making an effort at doing something he was not used to, which you found sweet.

Coffee turned into a stroll to get ice cream and when it felt like you had walked for miles through Sumida park, as he asked if you wanted to get dinner you couldn’t find it in yourself to refuse.

You liked listening to him, still tall and broad even when sitting in front of you but presence so oddly soothing you couldn’t stop asking and asking and asking. About his family, best friend, football journey, favorite games to play, that whole blue lock madness Yoichi has already told you all about. Nagi was always part of the “freaks” in his stories. It was never derogatory, he only used the term because “prodigy” would’ve been way too spoiling. Classic Yoichi, still managing to forget that he’s part of the freaks as well.

In the end, he did follow Bachira’s advice and asked for your number.

“I’ll give it to you but I’m leaving tomorrow”

“Leaving?”

“Yeah, I don’t live in Tokyo anymore”

He stared at you with features impossible to read, then took a small step and curled his body forward just enough to be closer.

“Nagoya, right? I could visit. Wouldn’t be a pain”

His straightforwardness was surprising and rendered you speechless for a few seconds, because this was not the guy Yoichi has described to you.

One year into your relationship and Nagi Seishiro couldn’t be more different than how he was presented to you by your friend. He’s sweet, considerate, never fails to ask you about your day and will get offended if you forget to text him goodnight.

When he’s overseas, he only facetimes if he’s absolutely certain you’re not too tired. If it’s too late in Japan, you’d have to be the one facetiming him because he never wants you to stay awake for too long, especially if you have work the following day.

He visits often, always insists on paying for your train tickets whenever you visit him. Loves spending time with you just resting in his arms, big hands sneaking underneath your shirt to gently trace your spine and massage your back if you’re lying on top of him, content sighs escaping his lips if his head rests on your lap and you run your fingers through his snowy hair, gently scraping his scalp.

He plays games on his phone while you read but will get up to help you as soon as you head to the kitchen to start putting dinner together. He wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your head, if you're not holding a knife he'll start tracing your neck and jaw with sweet kisses until you giggle and turn around to pull him closer.

When he has to leave for practice, he always asks if you have plans because he hates the idea of leaving you bored and alone. If you don’t and you feel like to, you’re always invited to go with him, so often that by now you’re the one casually asking Reo to come over to have dinner together after training sessions.

Nagi talks about his friends a lot, especially when he’s eating. He’d tell you about how Chigiri needs to stop putting too much pressure on his injured knee because it would be such a shame if a player like him had to stop for good. He thinks Isagi’s mind is incredible, albeit a little scary, just like Kunigami’s extra powerful left leg. Reo is the most important person in his life and you always make sure not to overstep, because you’d hate to intrude in a relationship as special as theirs. They both know.

Nagi doesn’t think loving you is a hassle, nor that it’s too much effort. He finds it surprisingly easy, actually. Caring for you and craving your touch feels natural, as if he was born to experience the simple joy of having hushed conversations with you in the dark of his bedroom when you’re both on the verge of drifting off. He's not scared you'll make fun of him so he tells you everything that’s on his mind, including the idea of getting a college degree eventually, maybe in history, just to give it a go. He discovers the wonder of taking care of someone else for the first time in his life, and just how good it makes him feel. He loves attempting to cook for you, brewing tea, heating soup and then feeding it to you if you have a cold. The blissful squeeze of his chest and stomach whenever the soft touch of your lips meets his is a prize he wouldn’t give up for all the world cups and top rankings and golden football career paths offered to him.

There are quite a few things that people who know Nagi Seishiro don’t believe he’s suited for but oh, what a delight has been to prove them all wrong with such ease and so much love not even he was aware he had it in himself to give.

[harmonyrae]

Power Couple

CHAPTER 10 - Angels Tonight's the night, the charity event… Will you & Sylus find the mystery protocore? And can you not panic for one moment over what Sylus is to you? This business deal is becoming something else entirely.

TW: Mentions of violence & use of explicit language

Visuals: Dress/Suit/Event: https://shorturl.at/mefF8 How he finds you:https://x.com/Babygirlvnl/status/1843170876889628712

This was the week from hell. The only time you weren’t stressed was when you went to your dress fittings. Sylus had sent you one image to base your outfit around. 

(Sylus) We’ll match for the event.  (Sylus) Will help us fit in.  (Sylus) *image of two gold masks* (Sylus) White & gold.  (Sylus) See you Saturday, kitten

The gold masks, white and gold colors - not what you expected given Sylus’ mostly black wardrobe with a dash of red here and there. You half expected to be given Luke or Kieran’s mask on Saturday. Maybe that was the point, Sylus wanted people to be surprised. 

You worked with your designer, Mia, to create something truly magical. A relatively simple white dress sits beneath a corset made of intricate gold appliques and wiring. The bodice fits perfectly and spirals upwards to the chest. The neck and shoulders are structured to hold up the sheer floor length sleeves trimmed with gold lace. Mia went over custom jewelry pieces with you to make sure the neck piece and rings, which would be attached to the sleeves, were to your liking. And she laser cut your headpiece by hand so the mask would connect seamlessly. On the day of your final fitting you stand before the floor length mirror in awe of Mia’s work. It only took her 5 days to construct a dress that makes you feel beautiful, powerful, ethereal. 

(Sylus) I don’t even get a peak?  (You) It’s not like you’ve given me a peak… (Sylus) It’s a suit. (Sylus) White and gold (You) *shocked face emoji*  (You) You don’t say! (You) Well, mine is a dress. (You) White and gold (Sylus) *shocked face emoji* (Sylus) You’ll look stunning in that…

You once again find yourself in front of your vanity trying to make your hair cooperate and your makeup someone presentable. Your chef, Maddy, works the curling iron - she is also trying her best to keep you calm.

“I’ve never seen you so nervous for an event before. What’s got you so rattled?” Maddy pins up the curl to cool. She’s always been your go-to when it comes to getting dolled up. Her hair and makeup is always immaculate. 

“I’m just… I just haven’t gone to a big event in a while. Being a little nervous is not a bad thing, it just means I’ll be on my toes.” You apply lash glue on your false lashes and say a prayer the application goes well for once. 

“I’ve seen you nervous, this is different. This… this wouldn’t be because of Sylus? Would it?” You can see the smirk on Maddy’s face from the mirror. You try to put on a serious face, as serious as you can with one eye closed to let the lash glue set.

“How about you save the dancing for tonight?” Maddy sprays your pinned up curls with hairspray.

“Huh?” 

“Stop dancing around the topic.” Maddy starts unraveling your curls now that they’ve cooled.

“What topic?” You smile wide to check your teeth for lipstick.

“Jesus… What is going on with you and Sylus? I say his name, your cheeks flush. I ask how the dinner was, but you just sit there squirming in your seat. Just say it out loud woman!” Maddy stops working on your hair to force you to look at her in the mirror. You sigh, she isn’t going to let this go. And maybe, just maybe, talking about it will help.

“He’s hot. Really hot. And he’s confident, sometimes cocky. There’s an energy that surrounds him. And it’s not just his evol. It’s…” You keep your eyes glued to Maddy. “It’s terrifying, but captivating at the same time. I feel like I need to be around him. Like there’s something, unsaid? Or waiting?”

“This is more than a business deal isn’t it?” Maddy places a hand on your shoulder as she speaks. You feel a heat rise to your cheeks. This time it isn’t a flush. Your eyes start to burn as tears well up. Maddy rushes around to face you, grabbing tissues to stop your tears.

“I don’t know…” You whisper.

“No no, honey stop, you'll ruin your makeup.” You laugh weakly. “I didn’t realize.. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

You take a deep breath and tilt your head back to stop the tears from falling. Maddy rubs your shoulders gently.

“No, I… I wish I could explain how I feel better. When we talk it’s effortless. You know those friends that you can go years without seeing and then you meet up for coffee and it’s like no time has passed? That’s how I feel with him. But to my recollection, we’ve never met until a few weeks ago. I’ve been racking my brain to understand this and I just… I don’t know…” 

Maddy nods along. She continues curling your hair before braiding a few strands to weave around the headpiece. She doesn’t try to offer advice or analyze, she just listens. Eventually, she helps you into your dress, definitely a 2-person job. You stand before your floor length mirror to see the final result. You look like an angel in a renaissance painting. You just needed the mask.

Maddy turned you around to face her, taking your hand in hers. 

“If it’s effortless, lean into it. Talk to him. But tonight? Tonight, just focus on having fun. Okay? You work so damn hard. You deserve a break.” 

Ding

(Sylus) Tick tock, kitten.

Maddy places a shawl over your shoulders. She pulls you into a gentle hug before walking you to the elevator. She waves at you as the door closes. You focus on your breathing. Everything will be fine. Everything will be okay.

The elevator door opens and there he is. Standing in the center of the lobby, waiting for you. His white suit adorned with the most intricate golden designs. Fitted tapered suit pants, a waistcoat cinching him in, a silk golden ascot knotted around his neck, and the tailcoat… It’s a work of art. The golden swirls and beading trail up the lapels over his broad shoulders, down the sleeves and across the back. Even the white gloves on his hands had golden accents. His hair slicked back, a stark contrast to his normal swoop. He turns to see you exit the elevator. His eyes soften and you see him take a deep breath. 

You walk up to him slowly and smile sweetly.

“You clean up nice.” Sylus chuckles at your teasing tone.

“So do you, kitten.” He takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. His lips are so gentle against your skin. He places your hand over his arm and he leads you out to the limousine parked out front. 

The drive to the event was unusually quiet. You and Sylus exchange pleasantries. You both share stories about your designers and how they both hate the color gold after this week. But Sylus is more stoic than usual, he keeps his eyes forward barely glancing at you as you watch the street lights passing by. The energy is tense, every time you dared to take a peek at Sylus he is adjusting his sleeves or gloves. The expression on his face looks like… no… Could he be nervous? 

Suddenly, Sylus opens a box on the seat beside him, revealing the golden masks. He passes the box to you before securing his. You struggle to adjust it and Sylus places a hand on your shoulder before taking the ribbons and securing the mask for you. The limousine comes to a stop in front of the gallery where the event is being hosted. You look over to thank him, but he has already opened the door to depart.

Sylus circles the car quickly to open your door and offers his hand to you. You take it and he helps you out of the car, ensuring your dress is safely outside before closing the door behind you. There are photographers and journalists all over the sidewalk, security forms a barrier to usher you and Sylus into the gallery. 

The gallery is breathtaking. From the paintings, to the string quartet, to the 10 foot tall champagne glass pyramid - it’s an extravagant event. Your grip tightens on Sylus’ arm as he leads you around the room. No one knows you are the leader of Himitsu, but you know if Sylus says one word everyone will know the leader of Onychinus is in attendance tonight. He places a reassuring hand over yours. 

“May I have this dance?” His question takes you by surprise. 

“You may.” He leads you to the dance floor. He places a hand at your lower back and you rest your hand on his chest. He pulls you closer and you both start to sway to the music.

“I’m gl-…” He clears his throat. “I’m glad you agreed to come with me tonight.” Sylus… is he… did he just… This man just stuttered. You snap your eyes to his. He tries to play it off by plastering on that all too familiar smirk.

“I am too. Seeing you in something other than a black suit is… interesting. I think the best word for it is… ethereal.” Your voice is so calm. No, not just your voice. YOU are calm. You can be the confident one for the night. And that excites you.

“I guess we’re a match made in heaven then.” You laugh at his sentiment.

“Funny. But I think we both know we’re no angels.” Sylus nods in agreement.

“Maybe not, but tonight, we’re whoever we want to be.” He pulls you closer as he spins you, his mouth to your ear, his breath hot on your neck. “Who do you want to be tonight, kitten?” You lean back to look into his eyes.

“How about just Y/N?” Sylus’ smile fades, he holds your gaze. 

“Then I’ll be just Sylus.” And just like that, the energy clears. You feel drawn to him, and you don’t want to fight it. You want to understand why you feel so at ease with him, like you’ve known him all your life.

“Well then, Sylus…I’ve been wanting to ask you something.” 

“What’s on your mind?” 

“This is going to sound strange… I don’t… hmm…” You struggle to find the right words.

“Don’t overthink it. Just ask.” His voice is stronger now. Not demanding, but firm.

“This doesn’t feel like a business deal. There’s something… something deeper and I can’t figure it out. So… my question is…” 

Sylus nods for you to continue.

“What are we doing?” 

You know it’s a vague question, but it’s been on your mind since that night on the rooftop. This is more than just a search for a protocore. More than just an attempt to stop a war for territory. What are you doing? 

“Kitten, I know…” Before he can continue, a hand claps down on Sylus’ shoulder. 

“The man of the hour! I thought I’d never find you.” A man in a red tuxedo and a haunting devil mask greets Sylus.

“Chen. It’s been a long time.” Sylus shakes hands with the man. You return your hand to Sylus’ free arm and smile politely. 

“Sylus, who is this lovely creature on your arm? I had no idea you were bringing someone tonight!” Chen looks you up and down, not once, not twice, but three times. You feel Sylus’ bicep flex under his sleeve.

“This is Y/N. My beautiful date for this evening. Where’s your wife, Amy, is her name right?” Chen’s smile drops momentarily at the mention of his wife, but quickly regains his composure. 

“At home with the little one. Word of advice, if you two have a kid one day, make sure you have at least 5 backup babysitters.”

“Oh we’re-” Sylus starts to speak, but you cut him off.

“Thank you for the advice. We appreciate it. Did I hear Sy right? You’re Chen? Chen Xi? You own the gallery right?” The cheerfulness in your voice takes Chen and Sylus by surprise. You take a peek at Sylus and nearly laugh out loud at his stunned expression. It’s like he’s suddenly remembering you’ve played this game for a long time too.

“Ahh yes, this is my gallery. My proudest accomplishment!” His phone rings and he quickly digs into his pocket to find it. He presses it to his ear for a moment before covering the receiver and leaning closer to Sylus. “10 minutes, Cherry Blossoms.” He waves at the both of you before scurrying off to continue his phone call.

“Sy?” Sylus wastes no time spinning you back into position.

“What? I thought you said you liked pet names?” You put on your most innocent smile and poke his cheek. “Did I embarrass you?” 

“No, of course not.”

“Then why are your ears so red?” To have the upper hand finally was a glorious feeling. He was crumbling and you loved it.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, kitten.” He drops his voice to a whisper once more.

“They’re the only games worth playing, Sy.” 

At the mention of your impromptu nickname he turns his head away from you. He’s so responsive to your teasing tonight. He turns back to face you, leaning closer. He removes his hand from your back and slowly places it on your neck, his thumb tracing your jaw. He’s staring at your lips, making no attempt to hide it. You lean into his touch. And you both stay like that. Swaying to the music, the other couples on the dance floor fading from view. Your focus is solely on Sylus. 

“Are you going to answer my question now?” Your voice is not as confident as before. Your heart hammering in your chest has made it hard to breathe, let alone feign confidence. 

“What are we doing? Right?” 

You nod. His remaining hand on your waist curls around to your back pulling you in so your bodies are fully pressed together. There’s no doubt in your mind that he can feel your heartbeat. 

“Answer this first, kitten. Do I feel familiar to you?” His voice trembles as he asks. Your hand tightens around the fabric of his jacket. 

“We only met a few weeks ago, I…”

“Does it feel like weeks or a lifetime?” 

Your breath hitches. You remember what you said to Maddy just a few hours ago. 

You know those friends that you can go years without seeing and then you meet up for coffee and it’s like no time has passed? That’s how I feel with him.

Your mind is racing as you stare up at him. He brings his hand up to your face, gently caressing your cheek. You close your eyes trying to figure out what to say next, but before you can Sylus drops his hand away from your face. 

“The auction starts soon. We should head over.” He keeps one hand on your waist and uses the other to pull your hand onto his arm. He leads you through the winding hallways of the gallery.

“He mentioned cherry blossoms?” 

Before Sylus could answer, you see a large painting of a cherry blossom tree and a stairwell right next to it. An armed security officer blocks the entrance. He moves to the side when he sees Sylus. You feel Sylus’ grip on your waist tighten as you descend the stairs. 

The basement level of the gallery is almost as exquisite as the upper floors. The long empty hallways lined with paintings and sculptures. The sound of your heels on the tile floors and your heartbeat are all you can hear. Sylus holds you closely to his side, his hand closed over yours which grips his arm tightly.

“If I let go of your hand, I want you to find cover.” Sylus whispers as you turn to face a large set of golden doors.

“Wait, why-” 

“Find cover and stay low.” Sylus cuts you off. Before you can reply, the golden doors are opening before you. 

The room is full of people, all hidden behind their masks. They chat amongst themselves and stroll around the large room. Cases line the walls holding a variety of goods, an attendant and armed guard standing next to each one. Weapons, sculptures, paintings, necklaces, a crown and a few contain protocores. You and Sylus begin your slow stroll around the room and examine each case.

You turn to ask him what he’s planning, but he stops abruptly in front of a case with a necklace. A delicate golden flower with a ruby at the center hangs from a braided chain. 

“Something caught your eye?” You say to him, watching him closely. Sylus smiles and looks at the attendant standing next to the case. 

“Outbid, no limit.” He hands a card to the attendant who nods curtly before turning the display light off. You’re guessing this is how other guests will know it’s spoken for. Sylus starts walking again while your eyes linger on the necklace.

“Do you think the jewel is your mystery protocore?” Sylus chuckles.

“No. It’s a gift.” 

“Hmm… a gift for who?” Sylus smiles, but doesn’t answer before continuing his walk around the room.

He stops in front of another case, this one holds a protocore. It glows faintly. You see Sylus’ smile fall suddenly. You focus on the protocore. In an instant you have a headache blossoming in your temples. You try to blink away the pain, but the ache remains.

“Is this…” Sylus lets go of your hand. You stare at him with wide eyes. He expects you to move. To find a corner and hide. Your feet stay glued to the floor next to him. You squeeze his arm.

“No.” He turns to look at you. This time there is no question about it, his right eye is glowing. Your headache is blinding now, but you can’t look away. 

Whoosh 

A spiral of black and red mist surrounds you and you gasp as your feet leave the floor. Next thing you know, you are against a wall in the far corner of the room. You spot Sylus still standing in front of the case. 

Click Click Click

You hear the safeties being released from multiple weapons and see guards aiming at Sylus and other guests. Guests gasp and huddle together in fear. You crouch down, as best you can with your dress being so restricting. You gather the material of your dress and reach under to pull your gun from its holster. You would be insane to attend an event like this without a weapon. 

“You think we haven’t noticed your little scavenger hunt?” Chen appears from behind a case holding the skeletal remains of what looks like a mermaid. 

“You assume I wasn’t already aware.” Sylus’ voice is cold and much deeper than you expected. This must be his business voice. Interesting. And sexy. It is very sexy. NO, you’re supposed to be mad at him. What the hell is he doing? He removes his mask slowly, tossing it on top of the case, never breaking eye contact with Chen.

“My client has unlimited resources, if there is another Aether Core in the N109 Zone they intend to collect.” Chen approaches Sylus, he presses his gun into Sylus’ chest. “And I’ve been paid a great deal to ensure it ends up in their hands.”

“And who will benefit from that money more Chen? Your wife and child? Or your secretary and her newborn? I was surprised you went to the hospital for their birth, but then again, you wouldn’t want to miss your second son’s birth right?” 

Chen lurches forward, his gun now pressed under Sylus’ jaw. Chen glares at him as his hand shakes.

“You bastard…” 

“Don’t worry, l’ll make sure your wife and children are adequately taken care of once you’re dead.” Sylus’ voice is laced with amusement as he glares at Chen. 

Before Chen can respond, he is thrown across the room into a large glass case. The glass shatters around him as the black and red mist retreat back to Sylus’ outstretched hand. 

Bang bang bang bang

Gunfire fills the room as guests are shot down. The black and red mist is still shielding you from view. You slip your shoes off and yank your mask off, tossing it aside. It falls to the floor loudly and a guard turns toward the sound. The mist around you thins as you spot Sylus looking toward the guard in front of you. You take advantage of the opportunity.

Bang

The guard drops and the mist surrounding you disappears completely. Sylus rushes towards you but freezes when he sees your gun aimed at him.

Bang

Sylus looks over his shoulder to see a guard fall to the floor. He turns back to you and smiles before disappearing in a cloud of that familiar mist. Guards start falling rapidly, the sound of blood splattering and screams of pain surround you. You focus on taking out guards shooting at other guests. Ushering survivors to cover or nearby exits. 

As the shooting subsides, people begin racing towards the door to escape the gallery. You fight against the crowd as you frantically search for Sylus, your eyes darting around the room. And then there’s a warm feeling spreading through your chest. Your hand instinctively reaches up and presses over your heart. Your pulse is rapid, you feel the warmth rise up to your neck, to your cheeks. In an instant you turn and look directly at Sylus, his right eye still glowing faintly. He pushes through the crowd towards you, time seems to stand still until he finally reaches you. He pulls you into a tight hug. It takes a moment for your mind to catch up and you shove him away from you as hard as you can.

“Fuck you.” 

You turn on your heel and run to the nearest exit. A blast of cold air hits your face and you finally feel the tears on your cheeks. You swipe a hand across your face and gasp when you see blood on your hand. You look down to see streaks of blood across your dress. You push yourself to keep running, your bare feet slowly going numb on the cold concrete.

“Y/N, stop!” Sylus is right behind you, his long legs having no trouble keeping up with you. You stop suddenly and turn to face him. 

“You weren’t going to tell me anything about this? You knew it was a trap. You knew Chen was going to pull that shit!  So you tucked me in a corner and thought what? That you were protecting me?” Sylus’ face is stuck in a state of shock. His mind reeling as he takes in your voice, so filled with rage and frustration.

“I wanted-” You don’t intend to let Sylus finish a sentence, you feel like an idiot accepting the invitation to begin with.

“You ‘wanted’ what? To keep me safe? If you really wanted that, you would have let me help you. You see me as weak, a woman needing protection, just like everyone else!” The tears you were trying so desperately to suppress trickle down your cheeks. “I have fought, I have bled, I have killed for Himitsu! I am not something fragile that needs to be protected or handled.”

Before you can scream another word, Sylus closes the distance between you. His hands cupping your cheeks. He is not being gentle, he holds you there, eyes on him.

“I should have told you. I’m sorry. I was afraid I’d lose you again and know I won't survive if that happens.”

“Again…?” You whisper. Sylus leans his forehead against yours.

“I know you feel it. You might not remember, but you feel it.” Your hands finally touch him, you hold onto his waist. He’s right. You know there’s more between the two of you and you hate not knowing why.

“Who are you to me, Sylus?” 

“That’s completely up to you kitten.” 

He tries to sound confident, but his voice is wavering with uncertainty. You’re silent. Staring at him trying desperately to remember something long lost. His thumbs brush against your cheeks, until one reaches down to caress your bottom lip. You feel something inside you snap, like your curiosity and desire have taken control and logic has ceased to exist. 

You reach up to the lapels of his jacket and pull him to you, his lips crash into yours. Your wet lashes tickle your cheeks as you close your eyes. You feel his hand in your hair, pulling you closer. His tongue traces your lips and you open without hesitation. He explores your mouth frantically as if he’s searching for something. You bite his lower lip and he pulls back to look at you. His eyes dark with desire and a hint of surprise. He dives back into you and moves his hands down to your waist, leaning you back slightly so you have to wrap your arms around his neck. 

Beep beep

You pull away to look over your shoulder to see the limousine at the curb. Sylus lifts a hand to acknowledge the driver. He looks back at you, a brow raised.

“Come with me?” He asks, barely able to catch his breath. You nod and he grabs your hand and pulls you to the car.

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human

Everyone writes Sylus so dominant & confident (which I think he is), but I like to think that mask slips sometimes. Nervous Sylus is too cute

[ughgoaway]

Oh my god yes! Imagine she doesn't even show him, just let's him find it when he's undressing her. He's kissing up her leg and over her thigh then all of a sudden it catches his eye

🎄

this is SO GOOD, and it's similar to what i was thinking, but I'll let you all know my first thoughts!!

(18+ brief non-proofread smutty thoughts below the cut)

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

see my exact thinking was you getting it before a big awards show, maybe the brits or even the Grammy's. you keep it a secret from matty, of course.

you knew they'd win. They always do. so you had a master plan for when they inevitably did, and mattys ego started to grow 10x the size. he always got cocky after a win, and you've lost count of the amount of award shows you'd been dragged away to fuck in the nearest empty room.

so when you hear that announcer say "and the winner is.... the 1975!" And Matty's hands are in your hair and his lips on yours within seconds, you knew everything was going just as you had expected.

they go up, matty does his speech, thanks you and annie as always. but when he comes back down, his hand is gripping the skin of your thigh so tight you wouldn't be shocked if it bruised.

as soon as the awards take a little break, you're being dragged away to a bathroom. matty's lips are on yours the second the door clicks shut behind you. his thigh is pressed between your legs, and you start grinding down without a second thought.

his hands are all over you, gripping and pulling. his mouth working furiously against yours, both your lips pink from the pressure. he's already pulling at the hem of your dress, "fuck get that pretty dress off for me baby. let's celebrate my win, yeah? wanna fuck you with my tongue until you're fucking crying. want everyone to hear what a slut you are for me"

you push him away and rest on the sink, pulling your dress over your head and letting it fall on the floor below. You try not to think too much about the fact your £3000 dress is currently on the dirty bathroom floor, which is quite easy when you meet Matty's eyes and see them tracing your body.

your dress was a backless number, so you went bra-less, much to matty's enjoyment. so his eyes linger on your tits for a minute, and before he can cast them down further, you're pulling him in by his tie and wrapping your legs around him.

Once his lips are on yours again, you grab his hand and bring it to your tattoo. matty thinks you want him to pull your panties off, so he tries to grip the fabric. when you pull his hands off the fabric, he's confused, humming against your lips. but when he lets you drag his finger around those 4 lines, he knows exactly what he's feeling.

the speed at which he rips away from you is like lightning. dropping between your thighs without a second thought with wide eyes. his jaw slack as he stares at the box, tracing it over and over again with his pointer finger.

"fucking hell, you been hiding this from me, sweetheart?" matty whispers, letting his hot breath brush over your skin and smirking as he watches the goosebumps erupt in his wake.

"wanted to get it as a congratulations present for your award, you like it?" you tease, rubbing the bottom half of your leg up and down his back, ever so slightly pulling him closer to the tattoo.

"what if we didn't win? you gonna get it lasered off?" he teases, pressing kisses around the thin black lines. you can't help but gasp at the feeling of his hot lips against your skin.

"mmmn knew you would win. even if you didn't, you still own me just the same, " you whisper breathily, throwing your head back as matty starts pulling your panties down with his teeth.

anyway, you can guess what happens next. basically, matty eating you out and going on and on about your new ink.

"my girl. I fucking own you. branded yourself with me, huh? right by your needy cunt. or is it mine now, hmm? because that's who it really belongs to, doesn't it? its my pretty pussy to use whenever I want"

anyway... very fucking filthy <3

[dmercer91]

the one idea that won’t leave my head is black cat!reader having a horrible day, and not caring who’s around, she’s laser focused on finding luca, and she just clings to him

and maybe there’s tears involved, maybe there’s not, but either way, she (accidentally) let’s a few of the boys see her for her

the team loves!!!! landen

so much

and they all want to comfort her so bad (the only one that tries is mark. no thoughts, head empty)

after the whole ordeal she and luca are at home and she’s like 😟 they saw me emote

i also realized after reading this that i’ve never given any context as to who the fuck lola is so! lola is landen’s ex girlfriend. they’d initially got the apartment that lan is living in with luca this year together and then landen found out that lola was cheating on her and had never really been wlw to begin with.

lola was bicurious and her friend group had told her to use landen as a test. she’d realized after the first night that she wasn’t actually bi, but continued to drag lan on because landen loves really hard and she would’ve done anything for lola

after the breakup- landen shut down and locked lola out of the apartment with bags of most of her stuff at the front door. the bags were taken and lola never got her stuff back.

lan felt really guilty about it but luca and adam have both told her a million times that it wasn’t her fault, she was upset and if anything the bags being taken was karma

when landen started having luca over at the apartment, they ordered food and lola ended up being their delivery driver. she figured this was her chance to get her things back and when luca opened the door lola got extremely jealous and pretty much refused to believe that landen could be with him

landen took that really personally, cause she honestly has a little bit of an insecurity that she’s not the typical hockey gf and that she’s in over her head

she took the food and slammed the door in lola’s face and she absolutely refuses to speak to her.

she often comes up to lan at parties and on campus to try and tell her off and threaten to sue- which only started after she found out about luca

landens offered to pay her off and luca has even told lola and her boyfriend several times that everything was a complete accident, but they think the worst of landen and refuse to believe it

feeling too hard | opposites attract au, lf63

landen walked into yost with her head down, looking at the shoes she walked by until she saw a pair she knew belonged to someone she’d be comfortable looking at, or talking to

when she saw seamus’, she paused, eventually deciding that if it wasn’t gonna be luca himself, or at least rutger- she was gonna take someone she knew would help.

she looked up, seamus immediately stopping in his tracks at the tears that were welted in her eyes.

“luca. i’m getting luca, one sec, lan,” he rushed, spinning in the direction of the dressing room and going right to lucas cubby

by the time the boys had reached her again, she was sat with her legs crossed on the floor and her head hung. luca kneeled in front of her, her body immediately shifting forward so her head was on his shoulder.

he adjusted, taking her arms and wrapping them around his neck as he sat down, pulling her into his lap and kissing her temple

“what’s wrong, pretty? what happened?” he murmured softly, seamus having left the two of them to talk with some semblance of privacy

“i’m so tired, lu. i didn’t sleep last night cause of my presentation, which went horrible, cause she prof kept cutting me off to tell me to talk louder,” she started, slouched against him in complete exhaustion

“n’ then i worked from 10-6 and everyone was so mean today, it was really busy. someone pushed cudo and then knocked over all his food. a lot of people just kept arguing and i was alone today,” luca frowned to himself, knowing that she’d probably not be so upset had she been the only one affected

she could take a lot on herself- but the minute someone she loves is facing the same feelings she shuts down. everything falls and the stuff she’d already gone through only piled onto her frustrations

cudo was one of her favourite things in the world

“lola came to the store at the end of my shift.” she said, and luca froze. his hand stopped gliding up and down her back and his lips parted in shock.

“i just wanted to be left alone and so i just stood there and let her talk and then i walked away mid conversation and went on auto pilot to get here. i just needed to see you and everything is happening all at once and i don’t-“ she took a deep breath, trying to collect herself before the tears trapped on her waterline started to fall

“i haven’t been this overwhelmed in a long time and i’m feeling too many feelings and i want it all to stop,” she breathed out, sniffling into his shoulder and closing her eyes tight.

luca squeezed her closer, heart aching as he felt her finally start to cry, her body shaking in his arms.

“shh, angel. i’ve got you,” he whispered, holding the back of her head and keeping his lips pressed to her nose, kissing in between his sweet nothings.

he pulled the hat off his head, brushing her bangs back out of her face and putting his hat on her, backwards so that the hair would stay out of her face. he tightened it, fixing his hair slightly

“there, pretty. got your hair out of your face. i can get you something to eat? or i can have shea bring you my sweater,” she just nodded, looking up at him from his shoulder with shiny eyes and a sad look.

“alright, come on,” he helped her up, pressing a kiss to her lips before guiding her over to where they kept all the food, some of the guys that had been eating eyeing them a little.

she grabbed a bottle of water, a fruit cup and a granola bar, looking up at luca to confirm that she was ready to go back out to the hallway.

“i gotta get my gear on, pretty. but i’ll bring you my sweater and you can go sit on the bench. know you get hot, and the sound of our skates might drown out that head of yours’ hm?” she nodded, pulling him down to kiss her lips again

once she’d gotten his sweater, she made her way to the ice and sat cross legged on the bench, opening up her granola bar.

mark was the first one to get out onto the ice, taking a lap and then stopping at the bench.

“do i have to fight anyone? i’ll fight someone.” he joked, giving her a dumb grin as she chewed on her snack and eyed him, unsure.

“god?” his smile widened, and he nodded

“and i’d win,” he winked, taking off for another lap as she looked at her lap, fighting a smile.

[miss0atae]

BL fashion in Jack & Joker: U Steal My Heart (EP 5):

The best part of the week when it comes to BL fashion is when you get a new episode of Jack and Joker. The characters in this series are the best dressed (for me, of course).

Let's start with Jack. I said it before and I'm going to say it again, but Jack really has found his style since he has been working towards repaying his debts to the Boss. He is mostly wearing a blue, black, white color palette of outfits and it works really well. I feel his range goes from smart casual to formal. This blue shirt is doing wonders to him. It may seem minimalist, but it's always stylish.

As for Hope, I feel he was more into colors in this episodes. We were used to seeing him in black to black outfits, but it was a nice change to see him wearing more colors. If you know me, you know I love printed and colorful shirts. The first pictures make it seem like he is wearing a baseball jersey over a white tee. It creates a nice contrasts with the black pants and the white creeper shoes is wearing with this outfit is bringing a touch of rock flair. In the second picture, Hope opted for a Hawaiian shirt. He rocked them with a light blue jean and again with his white creeper shoes (definitely his statement piece) which gave more of an urban feel.

Next we get Arun and he is very fashionable too. I'm a bit sad he changed his outfit between the time they captured Tattoo and Hoy. That's because the lace laser cut beige dress over a sequin top was a very bold and audacious choice. It's like he was wearing an over-the-top outfit to attract Tattoo and then he decided to go for the a more casual version of his outfit after he got what he wanted. I like the beige lightweight cardigan over the black top. The ripped jean and the silver necklace are there to enhance his outfit by adding personality and texture. I would say Arun is good at gender fluid styling as he is blending traditionally fashion elements and express himself beyond the binary. The second picture doesn't give justice to the nice black button vest he is wearing. I think the back of the vest is with lace. Simple, but visually appealing. The bruise on his face and this outfit gives a bad boyish air to Arun.

I really like also what Arun, Hope and Jack were wearing at the auction. It was mostly black and white formal outfits, but they all choose a different style that represent them a lot. You can see their personality through the choice of their outfits. Hope preferred an all-black outfit with a band collar. It gives the wearer the chance to dress down while maintaining an air of elegance. Arun has to play a rich guy so he choose to wear a fur collar jacket to give the impression of sophistication. As for Jack, he preferred a classic tuxedo with bow tie. It is according to his taste and you can never go wrong at a formal event with it.

[beansprean]

I'm sure Nandor is doing a great job out there.

My Familiar's Ghost part 11

Masterpost

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Close up on Laszlo dressed in a shirt and waistcoat with his hair pulled back in a small ponytail, a pair of old fashioned gold binocular glasses perched on his nose. He is leaning over a table which has a half-built ship in a bottle balanced on a wooden stand with a book underneath to elevate it. A few ship pieces are laid out on the table, and Laszlo has a sail carefully pinched in a pair of long tweezers, which he is slowly feeding through the neck of the bottle, tongue sticking through his teeth in concentration. 1b. Ghost Guillermo phases in through the wall behind him with a "Hey Laszlo?" and Laszlo startles, dropping the sail inside the bottle and spitting out a "Bloody-!!" 1c. Wide shot as Laszlo calms, taking off his glasses and leaning back in his chair with a frown, continuing, "-fucking Gizmo's ghost. What on this earth and beyond do you want?" Guillermo floats up behind him with an uncomfortable grimace, pressing his palm together awkwardly, and responds "Uh...I was just wondering...how you were feeling?" 1d. Close up on Laszlo as he slowly turns to look at Guillermo with an irritated expression that says "really?" Guillermo stutters, "Um...right." 1e. Full body shot of floating Guillermo, gesturing vaguely and looking up and away as he continues, "Just, the whole Colin Robinson thing...you and I were kinda in the same boat, you know? So I know how you feel-" Laszlo interrupts sharply from offscreen, "You do not. Know how I feel." 1f. Close up on Guillermo as he looks back at Laszlo with a contrite and surprised expression, stuttering back, "I-Im sorry..."

2a. Laszlo stands with a sigh, pushing in his chair with one hand and tucking his glasses into his vest pocket with the other. He says, "You should be focused on your own unfinished business, spectre. Not mine." Offscreen, Guillermo replies, "Well, I've got Nandor working on that for me..." 2b. Laszlo, picking up his unfinished bottle to put it away, barks out a loud laugh and looks back over at Guillermo, pointing out "Sounds like a one way ticket to getting stuck on this plane for eternity." Guillermo winces, forcing a smile through an embarrassed grimace and fidgeting in place as he avoids Laszlo's eyes. He couldn't argue with that. 2c. Laszlo turns to face Guillermo with a sardonic smile, one eyebrow raised, holding the book that was balancing his ship cocked against his hip. He gestures with his other hand and teases, "Unless that's what you want? I wouldn't say no to a clean house with marginally less complaining." Guillermo, close up in the foreground, looks up and away and holds out both hands in a stopping gesture. Still with a slightly embarrassed, self-depreciative smile, he responds, "Ah, no, no, no. That would not be...no."

3a. Full body close up on Guillermo in profile, clutching his elbow nervously with the opposite hand. His expression goes distant and pensive as he continues, "That could be...really bad, actually. Ever since I "woke up", it feels like I'm on a hair trigger constantly. Rage, grief, uh...other stuff... It's all right on the surface. And it's only getting worse. I can interact with the world more, but mostly it's... destructive. I'm not even really meaning to do it, I just... Do." In the background there is a collage of previous scenes in greyscale: ghost Guillermo angrily pouting, a crystal ball flying into Colin's face, Guillermo destroying an envelope with laser eyes, a sponge being thrown at Nandor, Guillermo ranting at Nadja, Guillermo shouting at Nandor, Guillermo shouting at Nandor again and him responding "alright, alright, yeesh. so testy lately". 3b. Close up on Guillermo's eyes gone wide with sudden horror, the background now solid black. He says, speech bubble black and glowing a ghostly blue, "Pretty sure this is how poltergeists happen."

4a. Reverse shot of Laszlo looking back at Guillermo with a serious expression. Guillermo continues offscreen: "I don't think I'd be great company after that." 4b. Same shot as before, Laszlo lifts the book in his hand in an uncaring shrug and points out, "Well, you're shit company now." 4c. Reverse shot of Guillermo, who snorts and turns his head away in an "I don't know what I expected" kind of expression. "Alright," he says. 4d. Guillermo continues, "Point taken" and phases out through the far wall. Laszlo stands in the foreground watching him go with a frown, clutching the book now with both hands. 4e. As Guillermo's ghostly trail fades from the wall, Laszlo lifts up the book to look thoughtfully at the cover. We can now see the title in flowing script: 'An Un-Erotic Guide to the Undead'. /end ID

[asherbakugou]

Date Outfit and Location

Kai Kalama | (She/They)

Burgundy red dress that falls just past their knees with a boob slit held together by simple straight gold clasps. The sides, starting just below her ribcage and reaching to her waist, have a gap with three simple gold chains attached. Overtop they wore a cropped black leather jacket that reaches just past her boobs. She chose to pair it with golden sun earrings and gold rings to bring attention to their black nails as well as black ankle strap heels.

Kai chose to take Reader to Morimoto's, a fancy and expensive sushi restaraunt that can take months to get a reservation at. It happens to be Reader's dream restaraunt to visit but they've never had a chance to go to because of the prices.

Zane Julien | (She/her)

Pale blue circle skirt with snowdrops sewn along the right side, with a white off-shoulder cardigan, paired with blue converse. Simple clay earrings made to look like snowdrops, and a simple necklace with a shard of diamond bring the entire outfit together.

Zane chose to take Reader to an Interactive Museum because of their mutual love of museums and Readers natural curiosity. It is one of the largest museums in the country of Ninjago and incredibly popular with an aquariam inside.

Cole Brookstone | (They/them)

Deep cut silk white blouse over a black, sleeveless turtleneck paired with a simple silver chain, and a singular black pearl hanging from his earlobe. They wore black jeans with it as well, a wallet chain, and black boots.

Reader decided on the Food Festival, a time when people from all over Ninjago Country gather in the streets and set up stalls, a good opportunity for Cole's first dip back into festivals.

Jay Walker | (She/Her)

Simple blue jeans with bluberry bushes sewn up the calves, tight white sleeveless turtleneck, with a baby blue cardigan that she can easily take off. She paired it with white sneakers, a blue bead anklet, and a string pearl necklace.

Reader chose to take Jay out to a Trampoline Park, the largest in Ninjago, since they both enjoy fun and it has multiple different sections that include laser tag, putt putt, and an obstacle course she hopes to challenge him in.

Lloyd Garmadon | (She/her)

Calf length, tight black turtleneck dress with golden designs along the chest and green glass beads to further bring the designs to life, and off the shoulder loose sleeves with a cuff to keep it from spilling over hands. Black kitten pumps, a gold lotus wrap bracelet, and emerald drop earrings bring the entire outfit together.

Lloyd chose to take Reader out to a fancy restaruant in one of the most expensive places to impress her, even though he doesn't need too. But she is excited to have a date with him, and has never been wined and dined before.

Morro | (She/her)

Ankle length sheer black skirt with pale pink cherry blossoms over black leggings and pale pink sneakers. A pale pink silk wrap around shirt with kimono-esque sleeves and cloud designs along the bottom of the sleeves, paired with a simple silver ring and cherry blossom earrings.

Morro chose to take Reader to a Lantern Festival being hosted in Ninjaho's National Park. The park itself is huge, and so is the Lantern Festival, but its also a little pricey so Reader never had the opportunity to go, even though she wished to.

A/n: The actual dates will be posted one by one as I hope for them to be more detailed, but hope you all enjoy this little tidbit.

[gelenka-daria]

The reincarnation prompt look so cool omg imagine a reincarnated melkor & manwë

i have a draft which i thought was half done but then i keep adding new things to the plot and it keeps getting longer, here's a snippet in case i never finish this thing🧍��♀️

Friday morning is terrible.  Manwë oversleeps his first alarm, then panics when he hears the blaring horn of his backup alarm, literally falling out of bed in his half-frenzied state. He doesn’t shower, doesn’t have time to make himself a cup of coffee, can’t find matching socks, and spends seven goddamn minutes searching for his car keys. His luck doesn’t change. Once he gets behind the wheel, his car won't start. Manwë screams into the sleeves of his hood. Thankfully, the subway is a mere five-minute walk from where he lives, one or two if he storms it. He pulls his hood up - no one is catching him looking this haggard, he has a reputation to uphold - as he races through the morning crowd under drizzling rain, his only hope now is that he hasn't missed his transport. Which, as his stupendous luck would have it, he has.  Of course. Manwë’s body composition is roughly forty percent pure, blinding rage by the time he's bracing his hands against his knees as he catches his breath, trying not to bemoan his misfortunes, few that they are, as he watches the train glide away, the doors closing just a second before he could squeeze his body through. It's alright, he reconciles with himself, so you're a little bit late to your lecture, so what? When’s the next train, five minutes? No big deal. He’s been waiting even less than that when he hears the distinct clamor of the oncoming train as light appears down the distant rails, and the metal wagons are slowing down in wisps of steam right in front of Manwë in no time. The doors part, people rush in and he finds himself a decent seat before the train moves again. He’s already settled when something flashes in the corner of his right eye and he whips his head to look without thought. The guy stands out a mile in the crowd, his steps languid, barely escaping the door clamping shut on long, dark hair. Manwë’s eyes catch combat boots, dark pants, and a dark red jacket over a black tank top and he can’t help but think the guy looks refreshing, a splash of color in their otherwise dull surroundings. He sweeps a look across the people scattered across the trailer, his gaze laser-sharp and focused and for some reason, Manwë is relieved his choice of dress is shielding him from that stare. Whatever the gu's looking for, he doesn't seem to find it, because his demeanor quickly grows lax and he turns bored eyes to his phone as he takes a seat one elderly couple away from him, and if Manwë tips his head up the slightest, he can get a real good look at him. But when his eyes zero in on the deep golden eyes and the sharp cut of bone under coppery skin the stranger's profile has to offer, an echo of 'don't I know you' chimes in his brain out of nowhere and he has to physically stop himself from getting closer to get a better, clearer look, confused as to why he suddenly, desperately, wants to. He doesn’t quite know how to put his finger on it, but this guy has something about him that makes his gut twist, like he's a face he’s seen in a dream and is now manifesting right before him. It makes his skin crawl but also itch for more. Manwë scoots away in his own seat, looking away and willing his eyes to follow suit, to not stray, but they flit sideways anyway a minute later, catching a hint of the impassive profile. He suddenly wants to speak, talk to this stranger, say something, anything. Why? What does it matter? You don’t know this guy. Manwë quells his interest with a frown, pretending as if the small kernel of disappointment in his gut isn’t attempting to flower.  He gets off at the next stop in a hurry, exiting through the door furthest from the stranger. He suffers the couple of classes he has and sits through dinner with his friends, goes home, showers, studies into the early morning hours for his Human Physiology final until he falls asleep, drooling over scattering textbooks. He forgets the brief, trivial encounter of this morning had ever happened. 

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

!Important!

Hi lovlies! I regret to inform you all that the Twilight Fic for the 200 follower challenge is fighting me tooth and nail, so I'll be focusing on all the emergency works and other requests until a coherent plot can be reached.

ALSO. I've hit a spot of inspiration for another, longer-term project of mine exploring an alternate version of botw. I'm debating posting it to this blog, and I'd like some help deciding.

An excerpt for you lovely people (Under the cut):

The sky was dark, shadowed with magenta-streaked hate that formed a swirling vortex above the barely visible castle. Peals of thunder rumbled in the distance, flashes of lightning illuminating the smoldering landscape in terrifying bursts. An armored figure atop a dappled white and black horse erupted from the neighboring treeline, racing into the field. They yanked the reigns back, and the horse reared with an impressive neigh, skidding to a stop amongst the lonely ruins. Small clouds of breath puffed from the vertical slit in their helmet, dented in more places than the eye could count. The figure dismounted and unsheathed their sword with unusual grace, the polished metal gleaming softly in the faint light. The Hylean crest adorned the pommel, painted a soft gold that seemed to glow with its own light. 

The battle started in an instant. In a flash, a blinking laser focused on the figure’s breastplate, followed by two more on their hip and shin. A whirling sound started as the Guardians primed to fire, rising from their earthy prisons onto creaking joints in desperate need of oiling. Skillfully, the figure reached for their shield, deflecting the first strike with great ease, then somersaulting behind a large section of ruins to avoid the second and third. Two more blasts rang out, the paltry stone walls shuddering on impact, and the figure rolled left, slashing at the approaching guardian’s legs. With a metallic groan, the machine tumbled, leaving space for them to deflect the next strike back into another guardian. A fierce explosion shook the clearing, undoubtedly attracting more foes. The figure turned tail, whistling for their horse, which had bolted when the battle began. 

A neigh sounded, and the figure hopped back on their horse, nudging it into a full gallop as more guardians closed in, aiming their lasers at the retreating figure. Several more explosions rang out, but quickly dissipated with each stride the horse took. 

The figure traveled for an unidentifiable amount of time, skillfully guiding their steed back to the safety of the forest, still headed in the direction of the castle. The night began to close in, a terrible crimson moon blotting out the very sun, filling the remaining sky in putrid burgundy light. Yet the figure rode on, only stopping to slash at the group of Lizalfos in their path, born of the blood moon itself. It was pitch black by the time they reached the first friendly light of the Wetland Stable. 

“Traveler!” an exhausted Lawden, owner of the stable, called as the figure approached, dismounting just outside the main entrance. They padded to the desk, producing a red rupee from the small pouch on their belt, dropping it on the table with their horse’s reins. “Ah– enjoy your rest!”

There was no response, and the figure disappeared into the stable, taking the first available room. Only when the door was closed did a drawn-out sigh leave their lips. With shaking hands, the figure removed their helmet, revealing what appeared to be a nest of hair, two weary eyes, and a stern, cracked mouth. The rest of the armor was next to go, falling to the ground as it was removed rather unceremoniously. Dressed in only their dark undershirt and black trousers, the figure waddled to the bed, flopping down as sleep consumed them. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You awoke an hour after dawn. 

While the sky was no less angry–magenta clouds still obscuring the once cerulean atmosphere–it was a far cry from the state it had been a day ago, practically bursting with malice. You cringed at the memory, forcing yourself to the edge of the bed, legs hanging limply as you smacked your cheeks in an attempt to regain some feeling. Your eye twitched when you caught sight of your armor strewn across the floor, cursing yourself for being so careless. There was a distinct ache in your head as you bent to gather the scattered items, gently placing them on the bed before migrating to your traveling pack, practically smushed into the corner in what you could only assume had been a delirious bid for sleep. 

There was a mirror on the same wall, though you dared not look at it until you had run a comb through your hair at least once. Not that you were embarrassed by your appearance, but it was still jarring when you remembered your life before the calamity. Growing up in Lurelin Village had taught you many things–fishing, astronomy, knot work, gambling–though you never expected to use them quite as frequently as you did now. Up until a year ago, you had been an ordinary fisherman’s kid, spending your days on the beach with friends, the boat with your father, or the stable greeting weary travelers. Until a squadron of Guardians swept in from the West, desecrating your village beyond repair. Despite never handling a sword before, you took a stand against the monsters, only to take a laser to the chest in the final moment of the battle as the screams of your family and friends rang out, forever branded to your brain. It was a miracle you hadn’t shot up in the night, scarred breast heaving with stolen life. 

The sun crept up in the sky as you redressed. First, a chainmail shift that once belonged to your father, a forest green surcoat, and your trusty breastplate, followed by the pauldrons, forearm guards, and gauntlets. The boots came last, the polished metal extending to your knees. You flexed your arms, testing for any unwanted tightness, and adjusted the scabbard belt around your waist, pulling it close. Only your helmet remained on the bed, though you left it off–it was too good a morning for that.

The stable was practically buzzing with activity–at least ten travelers mulling around–when you exited the room, b-lining straight for the nearby cooking pot for breakfast. You had enough fish stored to last at least a fortnight, but life on the road left little opportunity to cook your spoils. Plopping down on a nearby log, you tossed a mighty porgy and Hylian rice into the already steaming pot, waiting patiently as it sizzled. Until a cheery voice sounded behind you. 

“Hello there! Do you mind if I sit?”

You shook your head. The log creaked as a burgundy-haired woman took the seat beside you, a large map in her hands. She pulled at it lightly to fluff out the creases. “First time in the Faron Woods? I can’t recall seeing you around before.”

“It isn’t,” you intoned, watching the meat and rice crackle away in the pot. A light breeze blew into the clearing, ruffling your hair like a rowdy sibling. You tipped your head to the map. “It’s good to be prepared.”

“Isn’t it?” The woman laughed, extending a hand for you to shake. “I’m Meeshy, adventurer and fashionista!”

You took her hand, introducing yourself in turn. Meeshy nodded along before sighing. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard of Misko’s Treasure?”

It felt almost surreal to have a normal conversation with the raging sky, but you weren’t one to rebuke small mercies. “I haven’t.”

“Well, there was a bandit with unparalleled fashion sense named Misko,” you hummed in acknowledgment despite having never heard of such a person. “Legend has it that he collected legendary outfits from all over the world and hid their pieces throughout Hyrule.”

“You seek them?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

Well, she had you there. You turned your attention back to the pot, skillfully forming the fish and rice into large balls, packing them closed with stripes of dried seaweed from your village. The smell was divine, and you had to hold yourself back from stuffing the entire thing into your mouth at once. Sure, you had lived like a soldier for the better part of the last year, but it was no excuse to behave like a barbarian. Glancing at Meeshy, you held out the remaining rice ball, though it pained you to potentially part with such a delicious item. Fortunately, she held up her hands, thanking you for the company. You watched her departure with a mouthful of rice and fish, turning back to the fire to examine the burning embers, not unlike the smoldering remains of Lurelin as you crawled through the wreckage, stained in more blood than you could stand. 

In Hyrule, ignorance was bliss. Even Meeshy, a traveler, hadn’t said a peep about the mass in the sky, nor had anyone on your journey. You supposed it was a side effect of living with a two-hundred-year calamity; people became used to misfortune, accepting it into their lives like one would bad weather. Never mind the fact that the supposed Hero of Hyrule hadn’t been seen since the calamity struck, and had all but been pronounced dead. Even stranger, the malice surrounding the castle was stagnant, neither expanding nor contracting in the years you’d observed it. 

The longer you stared at the embers, the angrier you became. Your father had died in flames, barely able to breathe when you managed to pull him from the wreckage. His last words were uttered in your blood-stained lap, a whispered plea for vengeance that continued to haunt your dreams. What could you do but comply with his wishes, which is why you dragged yourself to the smoldering armory, stumbling upon a suit of armor lying on the dirt? Your path was clearer than the Lurelin waters when you donned the scratched metal, blood pouring from the wound on your chest to soak the silver of the breastplate, staining it in the fires of your ire. Pain became secondary to the burden placed upon your shoulders. You would find the Hero, and you would destroy Calamity Ganon, or die trying. 

[emira-addams]

Hazbin Hotel - Odette x Velvette - Juliet and Juliet in Hell

Chapter 01: Drunken Demons and Dancing Devils

Velvette tilted her head back.

Clouds of light, formed from hundreds of sparkling stars, adorned the deep red night horizon of hell with their scintillating shine. Drawn by magic, Velvette stared up at the far end of the horizon, up at the spherical shape of the heaven that towered above all their heads and hell. The milky soft glow of heaven was shimmering, its brilliance a blur.

Blazing flashes of laser light cut the horizon into thousands of chunks, chasing the stars and the reigning night away as the ground seemed to shudder beneath her feet. The bass of the deafening music made the surrounding air vibrate.

The Vees' lavish mansion was filled to the bursting with guests, drunken demons and dancing devils. Valentino was having a party in his honor after his latest films had won every award in every category at the annual film festival.

A satisfied smile graced Velvette's black lips as she hastily weaved her way through the dense crowds. Spotlights colored the makeshift dance floor in the living room a somber shade of red, while blue strobe lights flashed through the stuffy room.

Long shadows danced along the walls in euphoria. White fairy lights and glittering garlands wrapped along the chrome-colored railing of the open gallery, an illuminated disco ball spun under the ceiling and balloons hung everywhere. A fog machine added to the chaos. Huge speakers stood at the sides, music blared at full volume and the low infernal sound of the bass was earsplitting.

It smelled like a pungent mixture of cheap spirits, sweet smoke and salty sweat.

People were lounging on the expensive couches in the living room, laughing and chatting with each other. Kissing couples propped up against the walls, shoving their tongues down each other's throats and groping each other. An imp drew a straight line of suspicious white powder up his nose from the smudged glass of a hand mirror. As Velvette passed him, he held out a plastic bag to her with a grin, but she rejected it with a polite smile.

A number of different dishes had been set out on a long table. Fresh fruit was piled on top of each other and a chocolate fountain stood between white porcelain and several pastries. Some guests stuck fruit after fruit onto a wooden skewer, while other sinners dipped their bare fingers into the liquid chocolate.

Velvette quickly grabbed a handful of fruits and a cup filled to the brim and retreated to a corner with her phone in hand. Here and there she snapped a photo, every now and then she sipped the liquid in her cup and let her eyes wander over the party. Vox and Valentino performed the strangest and most soppy dance number, a truly embarrassing sight. Velvette's lips cracked into a smirk as she recorded the moment for eternity and the entire internet of hell with a snapshot.

She was just about to head back to the chocolate fountain when someone caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh, shit..." she swore and managed to choke, some of her drink landing on her dress. "What's Carmine's fucking daughter doing here?" Velvette sneered, her face scrunched in irritation. "I swear, just the sight of her spoils my mood..." She quickly drained the last liquid from her cup, squeezed the plastic and marched with quick steps towards the bright blonde girl in the lab coat in the doorway. The floor shook under the soles of her boots as Velvette pushed her way through the dense crowds. Her eyes glistened with a mix between gloom and glee, her thoughts blurred between the neon lights in the wonderful feeling of immortality and melted like caramelized sugar. Her whole body tingling, while the effects of her drink kicked in.

Outside of a cautious glance exchanged back and forth within an Overlord meeting, Velvette had never shared a single word with Carmilla Carmine's eldest daughter, as Odette held her mother's opinion and Carmilla Carmine felt a very strict and stern disapproval towards the three Vees, especially Velvette, a disapproval towards their outrageous behavior and lack of respect as well as their irresponsibility and cocky self-confidence. They were silly brats who starved for attention at every given opportunity.

Velvette wanted to have some fun with her...

"What are you doing so far away from your home and your dear mommy? Are you lost?"

"What do you want from me?" asked Odette when Velvette approached her and blocked her path. She grimaced sourly.

Velvette attempted a wide grin. "Tell me, sweetie, how many times would I theoretically have to fuck you before I get a discount for your mother's weapons?"

"Never!" Odette replied as she studied Velvette from top to bottom in disgust. "As long as I'm in my right mind, I wouldn't even dream of it..."

"Really, you wouldn't? Too bad..." Velvette pouted. "Hey!" she shouted angrily when Odette tried to push past her, completely ignoring her. "May I know the reason why you're crashing this fucking party and being pretty fucking rude to the fucking host?"

"Excuse me..." muttered Odette nervously. She cautiously adjusted her glasses and plucked at the hem of her lab coat. "But I'm looking for my younger sister..."

"You have a sister?" Velvette played dumb, but then she noticed Odette's worried face. "It was just a joke, I’m sorry... But why would your younger sister be at my party?"

Odette sighed sourly. "Clara snuck out of the house. I have to bring her back before Mother notices our disappearance."

Velvette burst out laughing, but when Odette rolled her eyes in annoyance, she grew silent again.

"Clara!" Odette tried in vain to scream against the volume of the music.

Stunned, Velvette slapped her forehead, then took the desperate girl's hand. She immediately intertwined their fingers and felt Odette's sweaty palms. "Come with me, you dumb fucking girl…" she demanded of Odette as they made their way through the crowd.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping you to find your sister!”

The two of them found Clara near the chocolate fountain. A cup in her hand and a hypnotized face set, she clung to every single slurred word that came from Valentino's lips. A cloud of pink haze hovered over their heads as his tongue traveled up her arm.

"Oh, for fucking sake!" Velvette shouted, quickly letting go of Odette's hand. "This can't be real now..." She pounced on Valentino, grabbed her colleague harshly by his fur collar and pulled the clamoring moth away from Clara before his tongue could wander any further. "Are you fucking mental, Val?" she snarled furiously and shoved him away.

"Hey… Calm down, Vel!" Valentino defended himself. He snorted, wiped the dust off his robe and raised his hands apologetically. "I was just having a little fun with Carmine’s daughter. I didn’t think you would mind…," he claimed, shrugging his shoulders. "This girl could have been the next leading lady in some of my movies. I would have made her a star, any worthless freak in hell would have known her name," he gushed before leaving Velvette and heading back to Vox.

Velvette scowled at the moth, while Odette quickly pulled her younger sister into a relieved and smothering hug.

"O-Odette? W-What... What are you doing here?" babbled Clara. Clumsily, she tried to free herself from her worried sister's arms, but her balance swayed precariously and Odette and Velvette had to support her.

"I came to save you before our mother finds out that neither you nor I are in our beds in our safe home sleeping..." Together, she and Velvette dragged her sister back to the door.

Velvette casted a worried look at the clock. "You must hurry..." With every passing second, the light from the stars faded more, soon the night would be over.

"Thank you for your help!" Saying goodbye, Odette pressed a quick kiss to Velvette's cheek, the next moment she and her sister were out the door and gone from the party.

"Y-You are welcome..." stuttered Velvette, wide-eyed. She stared after her with a stunned stare as the heat rose up her face and the blush gathered in her cheeks. Suddenly, her heart began to do wild somersaults in her chest. “Fuck…”

Chapter 02:

[surshica]

invitational — SHE KNOWS

ᘓ︵ꪒ⑅ꪒ

“seriously?! another party?” yn had groaned flopping onto the couch. “yeah we told you..anddd..” ann crossed her arms sitting on the kitchen countertop, “you/i forget.” ann and yn had said at the same time, a small smirk like smile formed onto ann’s lips as yn had a pout.

“i means they kinda plastered your name all over this saying you would be here..it’s too late to ditch.” kyuma slithered his hands through his hair as his head rested on the back of the single seater couch chair, his gaze fixated onto yn occasionally looking back at ann who was drinking her pineapple juice.

“but i’m tooo lazyyy~” yn groaned whined, “well too late start getting ready we need to go soon or we’ll hit traffic.” tatta’s tone was stern, he knew it was annoying but at the end of the day if yn had personally said yes to doing it. yn frustrated got off the coach walking to her room finding something nice to wear.

“don’t forget you have a media party to go to at the [company name] chairman’s house—kuina will be there and unfortunately dispatch as well!!” kyuma reminded her, yn’s eyes widened ever so slightly. she had forgotten about that as well. “well shit.” she groaned to herself shaking her head closing the door to get ready.

“even after being in the game for what 10+ years? she is quite forgetful…” ann had commented as she sipped on her pineapple juice in a plastic cup, “i mean cut her some slack you can already see the grey hairs on her head from all the scandals dispatch gets her in” tatta joked as kyuma laughed lightly.

“she isn’t even 30 and has more grey hairs—its funny but sad..she’s so..” kyuma put his hand on his chin, “overworked” the three of them said in unison earning laughs at how synced they were.

“she agrees to literally all of it..” tatta had sighed before lifting his eyebrow slightly, “..agreed to all of it except the drama, which she could’ve said no too.” tatta’s statement cause ann to stop drinking her pineapple juice; he stare beamed into tatta’s skull.

kyuma got the message giving tatta the what do you mean look. tatta has never sweated so much before—he had two people who scared him staring straight into his skull as if a red laser was going to be shot through him im sorry HAHAH.

“what do you mean by that?” ann questioned never taking her eyes off tatta, “she could’ve said no but she caved in since the new manager saw potential..” he had nervously licked his lips. “and did you tell yn this.” kyuma’s question felt more as a demand.

“I DID! she didn’t listen to me though she felt as if she needed to do the drama..” tatta nervously smiled wanting something good to happen, oh god he hated this so much. he was mentally curing himself for being it up.

“and what did she say.”

“she said she has too..she hates this new manger tho.” “DONT LOOK AT ME LOOK AT HER OR YKW BRING IT UP WITH THE MANAGER IM JUST HER DRIVER.”

ann had just hummed in a acknowledgment bushing her hair behind her ear. “we’ll talk to her when she gets back from her activities.” ann stated as kyuma nodded getting up from the seat patting tatta on the shoulder, “thank you for telling us” he tried to sound cherry but hell under all that he was upset

“YN HURRY UP OR YOULL BE LATE.” kyuma yelled causing yn to shuffle back over to the small living room, “jeez jeez i was just doing my hair—is this please-able?” yn said standing in front of them. she was wearing a black puff sleeve mini dress and white high tops, she really didn’t want her feet to hurt plus she thought it was cute.

“yes you look fine now go!! you’re going to late and you wouldn’t want that out..” ann warned her pushing her towards the door as tatta followed along-suit. “bring her back in one piece no scandals tatta or i will shoot lasers at you!” ann warner smiled at him, tatta just nodded.

ᘓ︵ꪒ⑅ꪒ

“we’re here!” tatta smiled at yn who looked a little nervous, there was a grip she held on her dress that looked like she wanted to quit. “stage fright?” tatta hummed looking outside seeing many people lined up to take pictures of her.

“no. just the paparazzi, i just get nervous because what if i trip and fall and i look stupid?!” she had groaned as the grip loosened she looked out the window getting more anxious. “fuck I CANT DO THIS I HATE THEM” she complained.

tatta ended up slapping yn, “shut up. you look fine, now go in there and do that performance so we can get out of here.” tatta unlocked the door leaving the car to go open the door for yn, a little shocked tatta slapped her. a small giggle left her lips, “thank you for the reality check.” yn had smiled at tatta.

the lights were blinding—she couldn’t even see where she was going the only thing she could see is the carpet the led inside, quickly making her way inside. she made her way to the back where the other performers were getting ready.

her name was being called so much she would’ve thought she won an award or something. “i’m here!!” she had exclaimed raising her hand. the stage director smiled giving her the ear pieces she needed. quickly putting in the ear pieces she made sure they were put on properly.

she grabbed a picture that she kept in her spandex pockets, giving it a small kiss as goodluck—she was ready to perform. but as her name got announced a wave of nervousness washed over her again. she had to shake herself, those nerves are meaningless she told herself.

as the person said her name you made your way up to the stage with a bright smile on her face, waving to everyone or trying too. the lights were blinding..a little too blinding. you looked over to the person who was in control and motioned them to turn it down slightly. they got the hint and were more dimmed out.

“hello everyone!! hopefully you are enjoying the party!” yn had her hands around the microphone standing walking around the small stage, the screams from fans who made it in were evident. “that’s good to hear” yn had chuckled, “i’m going to be performing one of my personal favorites and one that i think everyone will enjoy…Romance!” she has exclaimed, a bunny like smile formed onto her lips.

the crowd was very static to hear you sing the song since it was one of your most popular one! “woah i didn’t know you loved this song so much!” yn had gotten to her position as the lights dimmed, closer her eyes a breathe of excitement made her bones shiver. it wasn’t cold by all means but those goosebumps from performing has merely came.

opening your eyes you were waiting for the music to que, a momentum was sounded in your earpiece to keep you on track. her eyes wandered around and had noticed a white hoodie that resembled chishiya, the comfort feeling washed over you knowing he was here, regardless that be he was invited or was here to watch you perform.

the music started causing yn to put on her stage demeanor, a very flirty yet calm fun loving presence. yn had her eyes following chishiya the whole time, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. but the show must go on, not wanting to cause a storm she pretended to flirt with the male and female fans. there was nothing wrong with some harmless fan service.

ᘓ︵ꪒ⑅ꪒ

after her performance was over, it was rather quick with 3 songs nothing too much and nothing over the top, she had rushed off backstage wanting to take off the earpiece. a part of her wanted chishiya, there was this urge to go hug him and thank him for simply being there even if it was the smallest gesture.

you somewhat got tangled in your ear pieces; slight curse words were mumbled through her lips as she untangled herself; she started rushing to the door looking at the crowd trying to find that white hoodie that ended up not being there anymore. a frown was shown apon her lips. disappointed she made her way to the back door where tatta had been parked waiting for her.

she had pushed the door open a little too roughly, a groan was heard on the otherside causing yn to widen her eyes. she had quickly closed the door behind her looking around “IM SO SORRY I DIDNT KNOW YOU WERE HERE” yn worriedly squared down to their side.

the person shook their head with their hand on top of their head, “it’s fine it’s my fault for walking so close..” he groaned. his voice was soft yet low enough that made her blush. she stared at the person closely, the blonde hair and white hoodie looked so fimilar and it finally hit her, “CHISHIYA. OH MY GOD.”

she had moved his face towards hers, she felt the need to look at him to see if there was any injuries. blood was dripping from the side of his face; “you’re bleeding..” she pointed out, she was close to his face. the blush was streaming from her cheeks to her ears, the faint scent of a vanilla like strawberry cologne was evident.

“i’ll be fine it’s just blood, plus i’m a doctor.” he assured her getting up holding out his hand to pull her up, she took the offer getting off the ground. his cold hands were wrapped in his. he made no effort to remove his from hers, his steps were a little wonky. he felt a little lightheaded but tried to shake it off—it didn’t go unnoticed by yn.

“chishiya i need to clean it up..i cant just let you walk home with blood on the side of your head.” yn argued walking over to the busy tatta who was too busy playing on his phone. “TATTA HURRY UP AND TAKE US TP THE CHAIRMANS HOUSE I NEED TO CLEAN UP CHISHIYA!!” yn had exclaimed worriedly, she was talking so fast tatta only caught some of it but hurriedly started up the car.

“COME CHISHIYA COME.” yn pushed chishiya inside who ended up closing his eyes, the dizziness had became too much for him, “i just need water..” chishiya mumbled still holding yn’s hand. the sound of tatta honking was loud alongside the sharp turns.

“TATTA do we have water?!?” yn unbuckled crawling over to tatta, “no but we have juice box!” tatta didn’t bother to look back.

“JUICE BOX?! DO WE NOT HAVE ANYTHING ELSE??”

“NO BECAUSE THATS ALL YOU LIKE TO BRING WITH YOU.”

“YOU SHOULF COME PREPARED.”

“THATS HARD WHEN ALL YOU PACK JUICE BOXES.”

they bickered some more causing chishiya to groan “just give me a fucking juice box.” the grip on his and yn’s hands tightened causing yn to look back at him, a sorry escaped her lips.

she had handed him a juice box that had been in the mini cooler tatta carrie’s around for yn, “thank you” chishiya opened his eyes slowly to drink from the juice box. “fruit punch? hmm” he said as if he was critiquing her. “yes i think fruit punch is the best go to flavor from any brand~” yn had hummed sitting back down at the seat next to chishiya.

yn had started rubbing her thumb in small circle motions, “tatta can you drive any faster..” yn cleared her throat not wanting to annoy chishiya, “IM TRYING. there is a thing called traffic.” tatta scowled.

ᘓ︵ꪒ⑅ꪒ

the three had finally made it to the chairman’s house, ushering chishiya into the house thankfully everyone had been outside at the moment. tatta went outside to go tell kuina yn was here alongside chishiya.

yn had ushered chishiya into one of the empty rooms near the backyard. “i don’t know who’s room this is but i don’t care.” yn said pushing chishiya down onto the bed rummaging to find some alcohol wipes and bandages,

she had found some and cleaned up the wound, casual hisses escaped chishiya’s lips “i thought you were a doctor..surpised you are in pain.” yn had snarked a comment as she went to go throw away the used products, “i’m a doctor not superman.” chishiya clarified back pulling out another juice box from his pockets.

yn had raised an eyebrow, “isn’t that mine..” she looked at him, “yeah but i took it” he smiled cheekily casually drinking it. yn rolled her eyes in amusement, her phone had been spammed by kuina asking where she was and that they are asking her to come perform now.

a sigh escaped her lips “i need to go..” she said as she looked at her phone, chishiya simply hummed knowing she had to do her job. “i’ll be back to pick you up and drop you off at home” yn akwardly smiled at him, before skipping off into the backyard.

yn made sure nobody saw her and sighed in relief, shaking off any nerves that might of been there. she saw kuina and skipped towards her earning a pinch from her, a pout was evident. “i’m sorry i am late..i got wrapped up in something hehe..” yn tried to seem less akward.

she shook the chairman’s hand, “lovely party by the way!” she wanted to be nice when in reality it was a burning business party. the chairman smiled at her positive comment, “don’t worry about being late, if anything everyone was just here early.” he laughed at his own statement and kuina stiffened a chuckle.

yn had just nodded grabbing the guitar that had been propped next to the wooden stool, this was where she had to perform one of her unreleased songs. i mean she’ll get what she’ll get. tuning the guitar she strum in it make sure it sounded nice.

yn had tapped on the microphone gently, “hello hello?” she talked into the mic, “is this working??” she asked looking around. people gave her thumbs up; “well great! hello everyone welcome to the party even if i’m half an hour late welcome!!” she giggled.

chishiya heard some commotion come from outside and it had sounded like yn’s voice, something inside him told him to go outside onto the balcony. and so he listened to those urges and walked onto the balcony leaning against the railing, hands crossed—hoodie draped over his head (WE ALL KNOW THAT SCENE FROM S1 EP3.)

“this is one of my unreleased songs..i’m a little nervous to play this but HERE WE GO HAHA” yn’s voiced boomed from the small speakers. “this song was actually dedicated to one of my crushes i’ve had since my childhood..so do enjoy.”

“it’s called the glue song.” yn had a smile so bright it would light up the whole room. the soft strumming of the guitar with the gentle vocals lured chishiya into it. its almost as if he was being serenaded—and he wasn’t complaining.

ᘓ︵ꪒ⑅ꪒ

SHE KNOWS — masterlist — next

AN : yes this whole chapter is based off like a 15 minute scene in starstruck YES THIS IS WHERE THE PLOT DEVELOPS AND YES I AM FINALLY OUT OF MY WRITERS BLOCK. AND YES YES YES IT TOOK ME 3 DAYS TO WRITE THIS. i hope you enjoyed <3

tags — closed ❤️‍🩹

@eshtravagent @lunsyeah @aftrnoot @trinmadol @asoullessentity @akowbt @noxceleste @eissaaaa @dr3amscap3 @captivq @arizzu @happyjuhyun @parkersmyth @bwnniidump @r3iverse @le000xxgrd @crinklypink @cherriwn @mxbrahms @parcqq @ikon-teen @jade-flower-edits @scaramilk @yanfei-kisser @seiksyyki @nostalgisters @kokoscutie @elakari @milkkteary @coffeeangel13 @yvrikoo @kozuluvbot @rainbowsaz @naegisimp @kerenz @brdpch @minyoungieee @xashiui @ehddsnys @saltysoftgrungeofscience @hadesdaughtwr @rainqissedd @saiewithakatana @vernon-dursley @kittyrai @shinobuily @kalstar @huachengsbestie01 @xxoperatexx @luvvsnae @celery-o @hy0ukka @odin-hatesu @luv4kuina

[psychicchaoscowboy]

"Khu'on."

On the eve of the second sun it was announced that the Great House of Khu’on which I have so eagerly trained to serve would go to war with dissidents on the fringe, who attack our interests. There is nothing more I need to know. I have spent my life honing my skills, training my body, mastering my mind and nourishing myself with knowledge; now I stand ready. Nothing did excite me half as much as the initial call to action, delivered on freshly printed text-mesh, bearing the lettering drawn by a high scribe. There were many words remarking on the impudence of the enemy and how we may crush them with ease, but the only words that I found importance in were on the final line of the script, “grant our enemies rest, and reap glory for mighty Khu’on.” 

I now stand bare amongst a vast formation of my peers. We stand with our hands behind our backs, just above the tailbone, and our elbows a precise inch from touching one another. Our feet were placed precisely on the outlines of our feet that the serfs drew for us on the floor. Nobody speaks, but the air is electrified with our combined excitement. We face only forward, into the shaven heads of the one ahead of us, or the wall, our minds cleared.

Serfs dressed in black uniforms walk down each of the many rows of we warriors, marking our foreheads with a number indicating where we stood in the row, and binding all in that row to be part of the same cohort. The serfs return after with greater numbers to dress us, wrapping us in bleached linens, and taking great care to cover every inch of us down to the ankles and the wrists, but leaving our faces bare. They return again with featureless golden masks as well as a shield and spear. They gingerly fit the masks to our faces, letting the hooks around the outside of the mask grip the thick linen wrapped around my head. I see little through the tiny slits in the mask, but more than enough to take up the spear and shield.

My brethren and I gather in a massive hangar meant for deploying assault craft. Two such assault craft were positioned in the center of our formation; lumbering bipedal attack striders fitted with heavy laser weaponry and missile launchers. Standing beside them and my fellows as the hangar doors begin to open, I become rapturous. Here I stand, a warrior long left without a battlefield, finally granted purpose beyond further improvement. Here I stand, spry and youthful and fit and ready to deliver rest to my enemies, wrapped in ceremonial garb. Then we begin to march through the grand hangar doors and into the open air. The skies are dark with clouds but the twin suns break through them to shine a blessed ray of amber light onto us as  we emerge. The commoners have gathered to watch us depart, and they cheer as we appear before them.

They wet their hands with cold blood as they crowd around us, never standing in our way, but following and touching us, marking our linen wraps with crimson. Some choose to cut their hands and gift us their own blood. Many weep, and sing prayers to us as we march toward the waiting transport crafts in the field ahead. As we come close to the perimeter around the transport crafts, the commoners separate from us, and we separate from the greater formation in favor of our cohort, then board the crafts. 

Soon, I shall shed these linens, cast aside the ceremonial arms, and don something more worthy of battle. I shall deliver rest to the enemies of house Khu’on, and reap my glory. 

[cookies-over-yonder]

find your comfort zone, force yourself outside, lay your soul bare, you've nothing to hide

gift for @oneinchfrog

[title from How To Play The Keys from Rockabye]

Taylor transforms Link into the Musashi to his Kojiro. ✧*.♡.*✧ DnDads Halloween Week Day 2: Costumes and Dressing Up

ao3

⊂(´･◡･⊂ )∘˚˳°

"Can I look at myself yet?"

"No! Let me finish this first," Taylor says, staring at his lips with laser focus.

The lipstick feels… fine. It's not terrible, but not great. He could get used to it, he thinks.

His face scrunches up involuntarily from the way the brush tickles his cheek.

"Hold still, I'm making you blush," Taylor says, giggling to himself.

"Okay," Link hums, holding still as possible despite his exceeding ticklishness. "You know, I did play the games, but I've never seen the show."

Taylor gasps and lets out an overly dramatic, disbelieving "no..."

"Um. Yes?"

"Okay. We have to watch Pokémon together. ASAP."

"Like, all of it?"

"Of course! Clear your weekends. And weekdays."

"I'm free weekends, but we both have school—"

"School can wait."

"What about soccer practice?"

" Liiiink…. waaa…." Taylor pouts, and his lipstick shimmers, reflecting the mirror and ceiling lights into a thousand little specks of periwinkle glitter.

Link guides his gaze up from Taylor's lips to his dazzling green eyes. Link's always loved Taylor's pitch black eyes, but these contacts definitely add to the look. He's not wearing the wig yet, but Link's sure it'll tie the look together.

Taylor picked out another set of green contacts for Link—he asked for Link's prescription before even bringing up the Halloween idea—and he wonders how they look on him with the makeup newly added. Taylor said he'd force Link to take them out before bed after hearing about his issues with contacts before.

"I'll watch it with you, I promise. But for now, why don't you just tell me about them?"

Link smiles when Taylor's forced pout breaks into a toothy grin.

"Okay! Well, Jess— Musashi is a total badass," he starts "and she has a tragic backstory," he balls his left hand into a fist near his chest for emphasis, still holding a makeup brush in the other.

He moves onto eyeshadow, diving into an elaborate and animated explanation of Team Rocket's lore, and particularly Jessie's backstory.

"Also, I'm like, totally in love with her," he adds as the final button to his ramble, just as he finishes the makeup.

"A lot to live up to," Link comments with a little smirk, and the slight flush of Taylor's cheeks is the cutest reward.

He huffs and glances away before putting the brushes down. "Let me go get the clothes," he says, before starting down the hall.

"Can I take a look now?"

"Waaaiiit…" he calls back from another room.

He comes back with the clothes: a black sports bra, a white leather crop top, and a white leather miniskirt.

"It's soft on the inside, see?" Taylor says, and he grabs Link's hand—and Link gazes at the magenta nail polish shimmering in the light—and guides it toward the inside of the fabric of the skirt. It is soft. "Do you need help getting dressed?"

"Maybe…" Link says, picking up the sports bra.

"We could also use a tank top, but I thought this would be more comfortable with the layers. And if we cut a tank top, it might be a little uncomfortable, since I'm still kinda shit at sewing, and my machine hates me, but if you want—"

"I can wear it," Link cuts him off softly. "Just… you can help me put it on?"

He isn't sure why he phrased it as a question.

"Yeah, of course," Taylor says, taking the sports bra and shutting the bathroom door with his heel. "Take off your shirt."

Link stands up and does so—it's a plain pyjama tee shirt, stretchy and easy to slide off like everything else he wears—and he places it on the counter.

"Arms up!"

Link raises his arms in the air, and Taylor lifts the sports bra up before the realization paints itself onto his glittering green eyes. He puts a hand on Link's shoulder to push him down, and he obliges, sitting back in the chair, arms still raised.

Taylor slides the bra on without any trouble. It's stretchy, and form-fitting, and not loose at all, but not too tight either. It's fine. It's good.

"Can I look in the mirror? Please?"

"Okay," Taylor says, rather unexpectedly, considering the way he'd emphasized waiting until Link was fully in costume before taking any sort of look.

There's something softer in his eyes too, and Link isn't exactly sure why, but he brushes it off in favour of focusing on his reflection.

Taylor's done makeup on Link before, but it was usually a little bit of eyeliner, maybe some shimmery eyeshadow and nothing more. This is different.

His lips are a deep magenta, just like his nails, and there's glittery deep red blush on his cheekbones. His eyeshadow is white and glittery, presumably to match the clothes, and the black eyeliner on his upper and lower eyelids paired with the dark mascara make his eyes pop even more than before.

The heavy makeup definitely makes the green eyes on their own far less strange, though it's still a little odd. Link's only ever worn clear contacts.

Link's hardly worn makeup before. And this look, well, it's more feminine than anything he's ever done. There's a bit of a flutter in his chest, and while he's not certain why, he suspects it's the novelty of it all. It's new territory, and he actually really, really likes it.

"Does it feel okay?"

"Huh?" Link asks, still gazing at his makeup in the mirror.

"The sports bra."

Right . Link pulls his gaze away from his face down to his torso.

Link has never worn a bra of any kind.

It reaches to about halfway down his torso, almost like a skin-tight crop top. Link has never worn a crop top either.

It's way tighter than what he would usually wear, but not uncomfortably so.

Again, there's that same flutter in his chest. It's the excitement of something new, probably.

"Is it okay?" Taylor asks again.

"Yeah, it's good."

"Okay. You can wear your shorts under the skirt by the way. I usually do that with mine too, but whatever's comfortable."

Link nods, picking up the skirt. There's a zipper in the back, and the waistband is reasonably stretchy.

He slips it on over his shorts and zips it up without any problem, and Taylor hands him the shirt, which takes and pulls over his head. It fits fine.

He looks in the mirror again. The eyeshadow does look good with the shirt and skirt.

Link has never worn a skirt before.

At least he doesn't think he has. Memory is confusing, and nothing is for certain.

Either way, it looks good.

He likes it.

"The gloves and boots are in my room. You can put those on while I get changed in here."

"Okay."

The boots are also easy to slip into, and the gloves are smooth and soft instead of stiff and scratchy like he had expected.

Though, he doesn't know why he expected that. Taylor has sensory issues even worse than Link's, so it makes perfect sense that he'd put so much thought into making the costume comfortable.

Looking in the mirror, Link almost sees an entirely different person staring back.

He looks like a girl.

Well, the character is a girl, so it only makes sense.

And skirts and feminine makeup don't necessarily equate to gender either. Taylor wears them all the time.

Looking at himself like this, there's that feeling again. It's kind of exhilarating.

His black curls look nothing like the character's hair, but Taylor already knew he's not big on wigs.

The miniskirt makes Link wonder what it'd be like to wear different kinds. Taylor's a big fan of the shorter ones because they offer more mobility in the legs, though Link's always admired the way longer ones look.

"Did you bring your Garfield plushie?" Taylor asks. Link didn't even hear him open the door, but he's stepping out of the bathroom fully dressed in a white top and white pants, with his own gloves and boots, all matching Link. And the wig, periwinkle like his lips, does tie the look together.

"Where do you get your skirts from?"

"Oh—uh, mostly online. It's hard to find skirts that don't make me want to shed my skin in stores in person," he answers, "You wanna get some?"

How did you know , are the first words that cross Link's mind, before he remembers that it's the most logical reason for his question.

There's a look in Taylor's eyes too. Link isn't too sure what it means but it's there, and there's something circulating through Taylor's mind much like his own.

"Yeah, I think so."

Taylor's eyes light up. "I am so helping you look. Heh, I've already seen some I think you'd love."

"Really?"

"Yes!" Taylor says, stepping closer and squeezing Link's arms. "Also, you look hot as hell."

"I—really?" Link stutters out, taken aback by the sudden compliment. Again, not too sure why, as this is Taylor's style.

"Yes," Taylor smirks, and Link gazes at his glittery lipstick once more. It's a really pretty colour. "Now, where's your Garf plushie?"

"Right."

Link fetches the plush, smiling to himself at the way Taylor suggested using it as the final member of their trio.

Almost as if on cue, the doorbell rings, and the others are here.

"By the way, I love the makeup. Can you do it again for me sometime? I mean, like, not just on Halloween, like—"

"Yes, oh my god , Link, I would give you a whole fucking transformation makeover at the drop of a hat," Taylor says as they descend down the stairs, clearly vibrating in excitement.

"I would love that."

Taylor links an arm around his, beaming with glee. And Link very much shares the sentiment.

This is going to be a great Halloween.

♡(˃͈ દ ˂͈ ༶ )