#but he does like this song at least and it does tend to stick in my head

[new-and-improved-st4r]

"𝑵𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖..."

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Team 7 Band head canons!

↳ Includes Naruto, Sakura, Sasuke, and Sai

Warnings: None!

Wordcount: 588

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Naruto 

I'd like to start by saying that I think naruto, sakura, sasuke and sai can all sing, but they kind of do it in shifts, and like depending on the genre/who's playing what instruments. 

Naruto is for sure the drummer. He started mainly for fun, but one day Sakura briefly mentioned maybe starting a band and Naruto started to take it so seriously. 

The kind of drummer that tosses his drum sticks up in the air when he plays, and like flips/spins his sticks

Has a really good sense of rhythm..the type of person to constantly be tapping his fingers on tables or bouncing his leg in time with a song. 

Always shows up to practise a bit late, but brings enough energy drinks for everyone so no one can be mad at him. 

Also collects Monster tabs and keeps them on a chain that he NEVER takes off. 

Likes to bluff and say he can play guitar, but when someone actually calls his bluff, you can see the progressive embarrassment. 

Sakura 

Plays more than one instrument: Keyboard and bass

Also does a lot of background singing

She usually writes the music, but tends to lack a bit when it comes to words. She has an ideology that words need to rhyme, and it stops her from actually writing music. 

Started keyboard because her parents wanted her to play classical music, and she had quite a bit of recitals. 

Once she saw that Ino, Shikamaru, and Choji made a band she instantly wanted to be in one as well, and mentioned it once to Naruto…he pestered her, Sasuke, and Sai until they all agreed. 

Sasuke 

Plays both acoustic and electric guitar, piano, and used to play violin

His parents wanted him to have many hobbies because it “would help in the future”, so on top of making him do hip hop dance (which he will never EVER talk about) and cram school, they also made him learn piano and violin. 

Like Sakura’s parents, they really wanted him to learn classical music because they thought it was “sophisticated” 

Itachi and Shisui taught sasuke to play guitar, and it is by far his favourite to play. Its something that he finds himself doing when he feels like he needs to calm down or collect his thoughts. 

Writes most of the lyrics for their songs ....his parents also made him take creative writing classes..at least they paid off. 

He also writes music, but more for fun than anything. They’ve used his music, but rarely…has songs he’s written for his family and friends though. 

As a VERY large collection of guitar pics, and attaches his favourites to his wall. Has a couple from Shisui and a couple from Itachi that are his prized possessions, and he never uses them because they are “too lucky” 

Sai

Say also plays bass, but i think hes also really good at blending music together and making sick beats. Hes like. There DJ. 

Also kind of a manager? When they first started off, he helped set them up for their first couple of shows. (kakashi becomes there actual manager) 

Can sing, but HATES it, and usually only background sings if he HAS TOO. 

Also made the official fan page for the band, along with a discord server, fan mail email, and has a whole sponsor email thing set up as well. He does most of the work behind the scenes. 

Also takes all photographs for the band (at the beginning) and helps edit the music videos.

[qiupachups]

hobie brown

.｡.+*☆ headcannons 🎸💭

contents: general hcs, london based hobes bc i live there

a/n: my wife! the picture above is ‘stay close to me— omega sessions’ by bad brains (super cute song and so hobie)

When he’s not playing shows, antagonising fascists, or staging unpermitted political action slash performance art pieces— Hobie takes care of his garden. There’s just about anything growing on his canal boat that can survive London.

It’s fun just like him! He can repurpose whatever he finds into a planter, which includes old Henry Hoovers.

Most things we take for granted are ridiculously scarce in his world, like running hot water. Not wanting to waste this luxury, Hobie developed the skill of taking extremely fast showers.

Sometimes it feels like he steps in and comes straight out. It’s a little unnerving.

Once a month, Hobie does a super deep clean of his canal boat. He finds all sorts of inter-dimensional trash he’s collected over the weeks. After heaving it off the deck, you swear the boat groaned in relief.

Where does it all go? Miguel’s dimension, of course. The man didn’t have to guess the mystery fly-tipper when he saw the bags flickering through the colour spectrum. In Hobie’s defence, the waste disposal system is better in Earth-98.

If you hadn’t realised yet, Hobie is a methodical and thoughtful spidey. He plans for the best times to grow his produce and harvests them at the perfect time (not always since he’s usually… busy).

After freezing or preserving the amount he needs, he gives the rest to his community. So, expect some strawberry jam materialising at your doorstep.

For as longer as he remembers, Hobie could always cook. There was never a time he didn’t help feed his community or volunteer at F.E.A.S.T— even with his responsibilities post spider-bite.

In Hobie’s eyes, there’s nothing better than a good home-cooked meal. He can make something (amazing) from nothing so you can trust him even when it feels like there’s just dust left in the cupboard.

Multiple spideys can agree that Hobie’s singing isn’t the best. When Gwendy gave him a very forced smile, it only broke his heart a little. The face of Hobie’s idol basically admitting his singing sucks isn’t a big deal. Duh. He’s a big girl— he can handle that…

Thankfully, playing his MaryJane (guitar) more than makes up for it. If he’s not using it to torment police, he’ll make the best damn art that’s gonna stick in your head rent free.

With at least eleven piercings and counting, the dos and don’ts of them are like second nature to Hobie. That’s only eleven we can see— who knows how many more he has hidden? Without a doubt, there’ll be more to come.

Instead of getting blood poisoning from Claires or judged by a pretentious tattoo artist, go to Hobie. He’ll refuse payment but he wouldn’t turn down a drink.

Hobie isn’t called the Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man for nothing. His genuine (almost violent) care for his community has earned him the respect of basically everyone, despite their initial concerns.

“A dependable young man.” That’s how the elderly women tend to describe Hobie. They’re his biggest allies since he’d drop almost anything to help them cross a road or carry groceries.

Gwendy’s chucks aren’t the first and certainly won’t be the last thing he’ll steal. (You seriously think Hobie just happened to have shoes in her size and colour?)

He’ll definitely nick something of something of yours when you’re not looking. Once you realise, he’ll hold it high above your head and force you to jump for it. Why? Because he can.

Like every other British teen, Hobie’s dabbled in some underage drinking. It’s not illegal if you don’t get caught! When he’s drunk, he’ll be obnoxiously sweet and yell stuff like “You’re gorgeous, luv!” because he truly means it.

In addition to Hobie’s strange array of skills, being good at pub games is another. Beer pong, darts, etc… you name it: he’ll clear it. Hell, he might start organising them if he’s drunk enough.

In his personal humble opinion, roses are way too cliche for a romantic gift. It’s overdone, boring and stupidly difficult to obtain in his universe. So instead, Hobie rips off that patch you’ve been eyeing and gifts that to you.

As much as he’d like to, Hobie couldn’t rip off every patch for you. Instead, he makes a matching set and he’s cheesy enough to sew his one over his heart.

tag: @vhstown thanks for bean card xx

[puzzled-pegasus]

On the ADHD demigods' stim habits (headcanon list)

Percy

He talks and mutters to himself a lot and he also paces around his cabin

Restless Leg(TM)

He used to chew on things a lot but adults told him that he was Not Allowed to bite pencils or shirt sleeves or paper or anything so his outlet is mostly snacks, chewy candy is the best for this

Someone get him a seashell chewy necklace please

Oh you know what they should have stim toys at the CHB gift shop for all the ADHD kiddos

He also probably cracks his knuckles and joints a lot

He hums when there's a song stuck in his head and it's really annoying but he can't really stop it cause he doesn't notice until someone gets mad at him and then hes like ??

Annabeth

Annabeth tends to chew up her pencils a lot

She also compulsively daydreams and builds designs of buildings in her head and reviews lists of stuff she wants to remember

She finds herself doing random math while she's supposed to be paying attention. Like if someone is telling her something and her brain drifts off more often than not she's looking at something around and being like "let me just calculate how many bricks are probably in that stack over there" or "hmm i wonder how many gallons of water are in the canoe lake"

She also gets distracted if there's any other social interactions of people around her and she just people watches and makes inferences about what people are feeling and whats going on in their lives

Also she chews her hair and sometimes puts little braids in it

She picks at her skin too a lot and sometimes pulls out strands of hair

Piper

Piper flaps her hands a lot especially when she's excited

She flips and braids her hair too

If she has feathers on her she will sometimes take it out if she's bored and either preen it with her fingers or use it to tickle someone to annoy them

She sings a lot but mostly to herself and sometimes she can be heard humming or softly singing without noticing

If she has any kind of paper available, like notebook paper or napkins or maybe candy or gum wrappers, sometimes she'll make little origami things

She also picks at her nails quite a bit

Leo

Leo has the most stims that he's unable to mask, as we know already.

He taps on surfaces and messes with his clothing a lot

He also whistles sometimes which can get annoying to people around him so he tries not to do that but if he's alone or really concentrating on something he will

He will also play with pretty much anything he finds on the ground like paper clips and those office clamp things and he'll take apart mechanical pencils and pens and put them back together and if he finds a tack or a safety pin or something there's a 90 percent chance he'll stab it through the skin of his finger(s)

If he's outside he'll pick up leaves and flowers and shred them or pick up sticks and break them

He was also probably one of those kids who would put glue on his hands so he could peel it off

Jason

i wasnt sure if Jason had ADHD but I looked it up and it said he did so oh well lol

Hes like. Freakily good at masking stims and it kinda creeps everyone out especially the CHB demigods

BUT he still has them

He have the restless leg

He also does like random stretching sometimes

When he's standing in one place for a while he kinda stands on one leg or bounces his heels

Sometimes he'll pick up objects from the ground or something and play with it like Leo does, especially if he's outside and there's like rocks or something

He does a similar thing to Annabeth too but instead of math he'll try to identify any animal noises or animals he sees like birds in the sky or like if he hears a dog bark he'll try to figure out what kind of dog

Hazel

Hazel's stims are the least obvious but they are definitely there.

If she has a view of outside she will gaze out of the window or look around her and figure out how many types of trees or whatever that she can see

She will also mess with the seams or edges of her clothing

If she has paper around she'll draw horses or other animals or sometimes people or she'll practice her cursive letters and make them fancy

She picks at her skin and her hair as well

Frank

Frank does not have ADHD. He sits there quietly and everyone thinks hes weird. Sometimes he gets wiggly if he's nervous but otherwise nah

[wakingupthetrees]

the fellowship of the ring and how they are on a night out drinking (obvs tw for alcohol mentions!)

Aragorn;

likes a range of different drinks but tends to stick with beer

normally the most sober in the group, unless its just the three hunters, in which he is smashed to prove a point to gimli

drunk crier when hes alone

designated driver (arwen ends up picking them all up most of the time anyway)

holds his alcohol like a champ, never once seen throwing up even after the craziest nights

gets crazy hangovers though

Legolas;

loves a good fruity cocktail or wine

though he'll drink pretty much anything

and i mean anything. you could hand this elf a mixture of beer, moss and horse hair and he'd down it with an 'aight bet'

stomach of steel

somehow still pristine even after way too many shots to be healthy for anyone

only gets drunk on elf wine

hangovers? what's that?

the type to wake the others up at 7am the morning after to make him food

Gimli;

similar to aragorn, likes beer but will drink anything as long as its alcohol

gets WAY too into drinking games, one tease from a hobbit or elf and suddenly theyre 5 pints in

does not hold his alcohol that well, no matter what he says

passes out at a certain point and does not move for at least 10 hours. like he becomes a whole rock. just there. one time sam freaked out because he thought gimli was dead

wakes up in pain but soldiers through, makes THE best hangover pancakes

Boromir;

cider enjoyer

normally one of the more sober of the group at the start, then the first to descend into madness

is the one to suggest they play the drinking games, chaos unfolds

always ends up being dared into something dumb, later denies this

eggs the others on, also later denies this

wakes up with a killer headache

'im never doing that ever again' proceeds to do it again

'ill take this one easy guys' spoiler alert he does not take this one easy

offers to carry the hobbits home, they make it one street before getting picked up by the others

Frodo;

likes a good old pint from the green dragon

honestly anything thatll get his mind off of Things

happy to just sit and watch the chaos

gets weirdly philosophical after a few too many, dont let him near legolas they will start speaking in riddles even gandalf is lost on

always prepared with hangover remedies bilbo recommended him

Samwise;

the sensible one

also likes a variety of wines

likes to sing songs with everyone

gets anxious over getting too drunk

doesn't really know whats going on is just here to be with his friends and have fun :)

makes sure everyone drinks plenty of water and gets home safe

if he gets REALLY drunk he might cry over his potatoes. dont worry though, mr frodo, he knows just how to grow more even better next season

Merry;

another who'll drink literally anything, though he has lots of opinions and recommendations on what the best brands are

gets louder the more he drinks, especially once the songs start

him and pip are a 2 hobbit band, once they start a song theyre off.

on the tables, singing and drinking with a full planned dance routine to match

loves a good gossip, shares all the tea from the shire

do NOT let him and pippin start with the shots it will not end well for anybody

is one of the drunkest and yet never gets a hangover

Pippin;

drinks whatever the others order

a very giggly drunk

tries to sneak in a few pranks, always gets caught but no one really minds

plays all the games, sings all the songs, is just there for a good time

first to start singing, the first to get up on a table

needs to be carried home, will collapse laughing at some point and not get up

avoids the hangovers by just sleeping for hours and hours, always mia until the next evening after a night out

Gandalf;

prefers his pipeweed to drinking

though hes been seen with a glass in his hand at more than a few events

only person im the fellowship whos seen him drunk was pippin, who witnessed him shove a wild squirrel up his hat before winking and running away

everyone thinks pippin is joking, except legolas who's just been around long enough to think 'yeah that checks'

pip now has a phobia of squirrels ('but merry, what if he enchanted them!! what if he has a secret squirrel army!!')

[strawberrylemonwedge]

Fuck it, modern au mdzs driving style headcanons (us american version srry)

wei wuxian - he rests his left wrist limply over the top of the steering wheel, his right arm is gesticulating at his passenger as he chatters away the whole drive or he’s leaning it on the center arm rest, body always slightly angled towards the passenger seat even when it’s empty. He always drives at least 5 over the speed limit, but sometimes accidentally more if he’s not paying attention

jiang cheng - left hand firmly at 10 o’clock, right hand loosely at 3ish, sitting straight against his seat at 90 degrees if there’s anyone else in the car. When he’s by hiself and ONLY by hiself he’s got his left hand in a loose grip on the top of the steering wheel and his right arm leaning comfortably on the center arm rest similar to wwx but he’d die before he lets anyone think he’s copying his brother, Least of all wwx!!

lan wangji - a proper 10 and 2 position sitting stick straight, eyes on the road. Wei wuxian is of course a menace of a passenger spending the ride trying to distract him with his hands on his thighs, practically crawling in his lap to whisper in his ear. Lan wangji doesn’t cave of course but the steering wheel certainly does

lan xichen - a proper 10 and 2 position a bit more relaxed than his brothers, fingers looser and curled a bit more on the back of the wheel. Xichen actually Loves driving and the little break if affords him from his responsibilities. He finds it relaxing to drive solidly at the speed limit with his favorite music playing

nie mingjue - he drives with his window rolled down in almost all weather, left arm resting along the door or dangling outside. His right hand tightly gripping 2 o’clock. If he tends to drive with his sleeves rolled up so he can flex that arm when xichen is in the passenger seat, that’s honestly no one’s business

nie huaisang - if his da-ge is in the car, huaisang has both hands properly on the wheel, seat pulled forward so he can see over the dash, never driving more than 5 over the speed limit. If his da-ge is Not in the car his ass is driving with his damn knees, both hands on his phone, only occasionally grabbing the steering wheel (which is adjusted to the lowest setting) to turn, or if a cop is nearby. He’s watching reels, texting, and playing dj bc no one else is allowed to pick the music in his car

xue yang - ok his left foot is propped up on his seat, left arm resting on that knee, with a very loose two-finger-one-thumb hold on the steering wheel. His seat is leaned back so far you could say he’s lounging. His right arm sits on the center armrest when he isn’t reaching over to poke at xingchen or tug his hair or flip off other cars. A-Qing isn’t allowed to sit anywhere other than the backseat even if Xingchen isn’t riding with them, but he does secretly slip songs he knows she enjoys into their playlist if he’s feeling nice (only if he likes the songs too tho)

what do we think?? also bonus points if you can guess who i drive most similarly to lol

edit - there’s a junior quartet version now, tag yourself~

[vampiretendencies]

im starting to scar, im going through phases !

summary; he does everything he can to push you away, leading to his downfall. warning; angst, sadness, there’s no happy ending, mentions of events in seasons 3, chateau still exists, mention of throwing up, proorfread but may find mistakes. pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader. authors note; decided to take another approach because not everything always ends with hugs and kisses. wishing you all the best. hope the ending doesn’t seem rushed, requests are open. creds to gif owner. this is based on phases by chase atlantic, and lyrics of the song will be used. there’s a spotify link below, if you’d like to listen and read. lyrics are in bold italics.

It's been 24 hours

I'm getting impatient

I'm sorry you're scared

The feeling is shared

I'm sorry I'm dangerous

Ever felt that feeling when an impending doom is bound to strike?

Like when you know the earths about to cave in, and all you can do is let its currents drag you under.

The calm before the storm, maybe.

And JJ can feel it creeping in.

The sensation that he knows he won’t make it past a certain life span with his lifestyle, and he’d be damn if he’d drag you down with him.

Hell, he wasn’t sure if he’d make it past twenty five, at this rate. Between reckless trips to South America, and nearly dying in Barbados multiple times.

You were his last remnant of hope in life, and now he can’t even hold onto that anymore.

The filaments of love that intercepted his veins at just the sight of you, he couldn’t bare it.

He couldn’t bare so much love.

Or at least, he refuses to allow himself to.

The instance now is being in bed but miles away. And he’d been doing this for around two weeks now— throwing away the most valuable year of his life for a notion, or just the thought that you’d be better off. That you’d be better off without his baggage, his issues, without him.

He’s facing the wall, his boxer-clad frame away from you. Whilst his knees curl into his stomach, because he can’t see your face and he definitely can’t look you in the eye. He fears the longer that he lets you ponder his heart, and graze him gently that he’ll back out. Due to the fact that he’s been toying at the idea for two weeks. You stomach it, thinking maybe he’s had a bad day— still, you trace your fingers tips on the freshly tanned skin of his back hoping maybe it would comfort him. Or lull him into explaining his shift in attitude.

But he’s been like this long enough now, what if he’s going through a funk, you thought. But in reality it was you praying to yourself about what you kept denying.

He wouldn’t, would he?

He lets you touch him, he lets it linger like a cut to flesh, searing, burning, stinging at the same time. Recognizing the familiar pattern, curving and then going straight down to form the shape of microscopic hearts. He wants to stay in this moment, freeze time, so that the possibility of you despising him forever wasn’t something he’d have to deal with. So, he melts into the comforting touch, reminiscing on the times that it brought him infamous joy and not gracious amounts of sorrow.

He knows he can’t keep you.

He knows that you can’t continue to stick around.

In his own fucked up opinion anyway.

“What’s the matter J?” His insides clinch at the nickname, one only you typically called him. It was reserved for you in fact. And you weren’t a plain idiot, after a little over a year together, knowing when somethings off with your partner tends to become prominent.

But this … this was true anguish.

Mental anguish, if you will.

Grieving and missing you, when you’re a fingertips touch away. The great fall of JJ Maybank and Y/n was to ensue, and he was preparing himself for it. Realizing no amount of preparing could heal the hole that losing you will cause.

“M’okay bab-“ the pet name on the tip of his tongue comes to a hault, as if he were about to insult you by saying it. Something that he says out of habit and instinct that he couldn’t shake. God, he just wanted to call you baby in constant rotation. It was routine, but it couldn’t be any longer.

He has to follow through on every step of this path to breaking up with you, and if icing you out is what he has to do then he will. He solely wanted to sulk in his last few pleasing memories he’ll ever have with you. Beginning to break his ways in this relationship with you piece by piece. Hoping it would make the leaving part all the more ‘easier’.

Whilst you were oblivious, he was dying inside.

“M’okay,” he repeated, and stuck with it.

What the fuck was that? You thought.

Your facial features scrunched up in disgust at the dry response, the boy that was involved and cared what you had to say even about the stupidest things, usually; has a tone of no interest. He couldn’t see you, hence his back being turned away from you, but he felt the reaction through your stopped movements on the subtle skin of his back.

A grave dispense of heartache is upon them.

You say we should talk, it's falling apart

I hate when you say this

I feel like a child

I know it's denial

I'm going through phases

As anyone’s mind would wander in this situation, you felt unwelcome. Unwelcome in JJ’s room at the chateau. Unwelcome near JJ. The entirety of your presence seemed as if it wasn’t needed here.

“Something has to be JJ.”

Has to be.

It rung in his hears, and struck a sutured nerve or two. Because he didn’t want you to know something was wrong, or to even be let in that realm of his thoughts. You also have this agitation towards JJ right now as he’s treating you as if you don’t exist.

When at one point you were the only one in a room full of people.

You pull him back by his shoulder, forcing this fulfillment of eye contact. A weeping tear glazing over his eyes, a sob he’s been holding in the short hour you’d been over. He can’t keep it together but, he’s trying for the life of him. Even if you hadn’t seen the isolation of a salty tear forming, you sense the numbness in his features. Caught so off gaurd, mouth parted and all he can do is stare up at you with no emotion.

The boy you love was eons away.

Meanwhile that boy is compelling himself to not love you anymore.

And no, he didn’t want to see you go. You were his lifeline—on this constant high that he couldn’t come down from. You kept him high in the ways weed didn’t.

Knowing that he’ll be at this record breaking low when you’re gone makes him want to spiral. But, he’s not what’s preeminent for you, he’s not what’s best— anymore antics with the Pogues and he’ll ruin you. He’s baffled it’s even lasted this long.

“Why’s something have to be wrong?”

You’re propped up on your knees to the mattress, his blonde tresses are sprawled out against the pillow just as beguiling as he’s always been. Yet, not the same.

“I don’t know you just haven’t … you haven’t-“

“I haven’t what?” He bites back, sheer irritation. Adding to fuel of the irate frustration that’s being built upon brick my brick. One push and it’s all coming down. Though he needed his last few weeks with you to be pure elation, he can’t help but detach himself already. Protecting you, all whilst protecting his own sauntering feelings.

“You haven’t touched me in weeks JJ … everytime we kiss it feels like you don’t mean it. I can’t be the only one putting in effort here.”

You were right, going from his hands all over you anytime, anyplace so, a love language of utmost physical touch— to absolutely zilch. Not even a hug or a hand hold. Essentially stuck to you like a sticker, that sticker has fallen off, been stepped on, ripped, and trampled in rain.

JJ wanted to slam his head against the wall until it was fucking blue. He had to act like he wasn’t phased, a douchebag or an asshole. Quietly hoping it would make the letting go less intense. Lovelorn, at most.

He’s wrong. So utterly wrong.

What is he doing? — in a larger sense.

“Anything else you wanna’ complain about?”

End it now or hold off longer? JJ battled with himself again.

Get lost in love or escape it? If you love her let her go. You know this won’t be good for her. You’re such a fuck up. And again.

Your eyebrows knit together, you hadn’t known what you were saying could be taken out of context into a complaint. You’d let him be out of tune for long enough, you bit your tongue long enough, it was long enough. A stranger could tell something was desperately wrong.

You just wanted him to fix it.

You just wanted JJ.

“I wasn’t complaining J,” You pleaded almost, a quiver could be sensed in your voice. “I-I feel like you’re disgusted with me … like are you even attracted to me anymore?”

His irritation grows as that could never be a possibility. His undying attraction towards you has multiplied since kindergarten. You were the first one to notice him that school year— his dad gave him a pack of crackers for lunch, not caring about the child’s well being. And you, shared a PB&J with him, it’s been his favorite since that day.

And so have you.

You knew that, often taking advantage of it by getting your way with him, whenever need be.

If only you knew what he’s struggling to get off of his chest now. He can’t even believe there’s a version of his world without you in it.

“Please shutup.”

Is all he can suffice, as it’s minimal and not giving away too much. But it still pings at the strings of your heart all the same. Glaring, he presses a hand to his forehead, thumb and index finger colliding with his temples— to infer that you were giving him a headache on the verge of a migraine.

Tears are now pricking at the crevices of your eyes.

Why is he talking to me like that? You thought.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood tall, your body intensely drenched in the heat of JJ’s lackluster coated tongue.

Passionless so it seems.

You fought the tears wearily, even still they streamed and he held his hands over his eye’s because he can’t stand to see it. He can’t stand to see himself being the cause of those sopping tears— though he would be eventually anyway.

Just not now, he doesn’t know if he can do this. His insides are physically wearing away at the sound. He can’t comfort you as he would, due to it wringing the both of you by the neck when it comes to the end. For him it would reel him back in, and make him stay repeatedly. And you, it’s going to be all the more difficult to let go.

You known each other since before you knew how to spell, how do you let go of that?

“… t-then are you fucking around with someone? You’re cheating on me aren’t you?!”

He was astonished such a sin would leave your mouth. You thought it was in his nature to have such relations with another— he’s let your imagination run widely enough.

And he thinks he’s going to throw up— legitimately puke all over his bed, full on having to push you out of the way.

He’d overcome so much to get you, winning you a little over 365 long days ago.

All for what?

For nothing?

To just have you sit here and think the worst of him?

“If you aren’t going to shut the fuck up, you can go.”

Feel like I'm going insane, I'm going through phases

Pharmacy's rotting my brain, I'm going through phases

Heaven is calling my name, I'm going through phases

Oh, oh, yeah

I'm going through phases

He vowed he’d never do this to you, there for each other whilst having no one. Any of this, really, but being spiteful on top of it is making your hands clammy and your mouth dry, Now, he opens his eyes and removes his hands, sat upward as he gestures toward the door. Jaw clenched with a heaving chest, it was a damn insult to call him a cheater. It was agonizing. He’d never made you leave, even in the smallest of arguments he wants to make up seconds after. Cracking jokes about ‘how hot you looked while mad at him.’

After he’s done with you, you’re going to wish he’d cheated.

It’s menacing and erie, the repulsive silence that surrounds the two of you. He’s just fiddling with the rings amongst his fingers. Abruptly brought out of his trance once you leap off of the bed. Yanking his Bait Shop Tee past your shoulders, you throw it at him. It catches wind with hair, plopping him directly in the face, falling into his lap.

He deserves it.

He stood by not looking whilst you changed like he perpetually tended to do. You could’ve been the sun, the way fuming exhaust radiated off of your body. Slipping your head into your sweatshirt, whilst rummaging through his floor for your shorts— doing so quickly, if you were to look back on it you’d recall every moment of this painstakingly long conversation.

He cups his face into his own hands at the ‘last’ thing you’d say to him. Watching you rush past his door.

“If I wanted to be in a relationship by myself, I would’ve just stayed single.”

Collapsing into your side of the bed beside him, he takes in your remaining scent. So sensual, he wouldn’t get that satisfying scent again. Grasping the open flesh of his chest in misery. He’s torturing himself.

You’d eat those words.

Swim in the dark

The water is changing

Floating away, the fear in my brain

The feeling is fading

Kie frantically called you in urgency, days later. There was a plan to unfold, one that would be the cause of you resenting the Pogues for years to come. They were closer with JJ, you didn’t have as much freewill as the four of them did, or so much as you didn’t have the guts to leave your parents wondering where you are for days on end. You didn’t fit, the outcast of the group. The Pogues accepted you as you were but there was a tendency, that they too would agree, to gravitate towards JJ.

Even when the two of you were pining and it was all 'no Pogue on Pogue macking," blah blah blah, they never intervened.

You were JJ’s girl.

They knew it before you did.

Alike, with how they knew the outcome of the blood curdling screams to follow.

The elongated porch of the Chateau is fully occupied like how it normally would be, but there is no JJ.

Unbeknownst to you, he's on the other side of the front door. The same front door that's attached to the porch, and tended to be used for eavesdropping. JJ’s back is against it, clothing hanging off of his feeble frame. He didn't have an appetite, didn't have the motivation to shower, or even comb a hand through his hair.

What use to have meaning, is now meaningless without you.

This is what JJ intended, to have the Pogues did his dirty work. And after seeing JJ's current condition they obliged without much convincing. He didn't mind his friends getting caught in the crossfire, because as long as they were involved you'd detest them too. Meaning, there'd be no trace of you here.

He didn't have the fucking guts to break it to you himself; always caving and falling back under your spell.

Having the Pogues do it is more reasonable for the both of you, or at least he thought. You loathing all of them wouldn't make you come around and that was a sacrifice JJ had to make, for he feared if he saw you again, he'd become a ghost. Already a shell of the person he use to be.

Utter captivation and enrapture would be no more. He'd abhor himself if he let you witness another bloddy nose, another 'help me I'm in trouble text message', another close loss of life.

He beckoned he was much too treacherous and threatening to your purely refined soul.

There's life before you, during you, and now he has to attempt an after.

Here goes nothing.

You say it's not me

I hate when you say this

I'm falling apart

I'm starting to scar

I'm going through phases, yeah

Sheer exhaustion nearly causes you to miss a step, hand gliding with the screen door of the Chateau. You hadn't slept a wink, yearning for a sign that JJ still was still lathered in infatuation along with you, but there hadn't been. Two and two were coming together, and you weren't heedless no, just in open denial. In fact, you were willing to forgive the events of days ago to relive any sentiment with your boyfriend.

But that wasn't going to happen.

Not in this eternity, but he hopes to see you in the next.

With each inch you take towards the couches atop the porch that Kie, John B, and Pope were sat on, the atmosphere was muggy and rancid of thick air, fitting. The floral printed couch was where JJ hesitantly kissed you for the first time, slow and everlasting. Maybe if you touched your lips one more time, you'd be able to feel the linger of it again.

Kie is pacing with a box in her hands now upon seeing you closer in vison and throats are clearing as you stop in your tracks to end your approach on them. The box is lidded and closed, so the contents were unknown. Her lips curve into a sympathetic smile.

Fuck, you knew the end.

They were told to make it short and sweet, and at the sound of Kie's voice conversing with yours JJ perks up like a little dog that’s awaiting a treat. Except this was no treat.

Far from it.

"What's the emergency you called about?" You question, noting nothing of an emergency. Pope and John B are peering down at the cracked wooden boards below, allowing Kie to soften the blow. "And where's JJ-"

"He told me to give this to you Y/n."

You take the cardboard box that's planted into your hands, lifting its taped down lid your heart might as well have fell to your feet. Grabbing onto something, legs about to give out from beneath you. JJ's palm is flat against the bordered door, skin anticipating to be one with yours again.

Inside the box were shattered pieces of you and JJ combined. Your relationship shriveled into something so little, so insignificant. His film from the specific camera he purchased for photos of you and him aside from his other one. Claiming he wanted to savor every second he spent with you, but now as he can't digest the hard-to-swallow pill. He thinks you would be better off with them. A pink bear, that was dressed in overalls, JJ named it 'pinky', from another various date that the two of you went on to Build a Bear. Neither of you had been as children, healing apart of the untouched inner child in one another. There was the t-shirt you'd given him last year for his birthday, that read I heart my girlfriend, with an image of you in the middle of the heart. You could've went on and on about how each individual item in that box made you feel, but its not the items.

Its why are they in this Goddamn box?

"He doesn't want to be with you anymore."

Kies plummeting, echoing, and spit-firing words are the last thing you hear before the box clashes with the creaking floor of the porch. And you just knew JJ wasn't going to be one to miss out on this 'show' that he created.

Hiding behind a door and sending you off to venture a life without him, was a fucking slap to the face. A punch even, maybe even a headlock.

Who does he think he is to leave you so empty?

To leave you to peace together this mess of used-love?

You're pushing past them in absolute mortifying embarrassment. The infuriation towards them hasn't kicked in yet, but you were sure it would when you'd be left alone and inside you room pondering how you lost everything in a moments glance.

To have the Pogues break up with you for him, was a new rock bottom even for JJ.

Your fist collides with the broad door frequently, ear clasping against it to be met with nothing. JJ's face is buried in his knees whilst he sobbed with aching coughs in between, unable to catch his breath. Matching your cries that are too spilling out. So vulnerable on his own and for his person, or the one that was his person.

The end of all either of you have known.

"You're a fucking coward JJ!"

It seeps off of your tongue and causes a collision like dynamite, the daggers of the Pogues eyes are digging into your back. You continue to drag forward on the door, fist likely drawing blood from how hard its hitting.

"I wish I never even met you, d'you know much better off I'd be?!"

And you wouldn't be, neither of you would be the same. Sharing a love story others dream about when they sleep, and sharing an ultimate ending that most would dread. He whimpers as this is this the exact reaction, he'd been positive about, despite which way he approached it.

'Please don't forget how much I love you baby.'

He speaks to himself, as if you were here. Etching a baby in for the hell of it, the final hoorah.

You've resulted to kicking door, animosity, exasperation, and displeasure roped into one. John B is pulling you away, as he doesn't want the door to come off its hinges. Even still you shove John B away from you, running from the life you once knew.

"Can't believe I let myself love someone like you!"

Someone like you.

What's the point of love if it's not real?

Hanging onto me and in your feels

I can't even tell if it's the same to me

I'm falling apart, I know it's denial

I'm going through phases

[theamityelf]

Sorry if this is annoying but what would makoto naegi's daemon be?

(More from the Daemons AU in this masterlist.)

Not annoying at all! I'm really leaning rabbit for him; at least 2 characters (Kyoko and Mukuro) have compared him to a rabbit or a bunny, and it really puts the Monokuma versus Usami thing in an interesting light, lol. Also it adds a layer to Junko calling him an herbivore, and it means I get to imagine the song "Bad, Bad Rabbit" over any of the many times Makoto is accused of something.

In general, having a rabbit daemon provides justification for others to underestimate him, all while kind of hinting at how he spreads his hope to others. (Rabbits reproduce, hope reproduces?)

Just picture Makoto walking somewhere with a brown rabbit hopping alongside him, always. If he's in a hurry, he and the rabbit are both running; the rabbit can run way faster, but daemon and human can't get too far apart without hurting themselves, so the rabbit takes care to only outpace him a little. If they're in danger, he holds it close.

As is usually the case for boys, his daemon is a girl. His parents named her Emiko; he calls her Emi. And I'm thinking she settled when he was, like, twelve. Pretty normal.

Unlike Hajime's more contentious relationship with his daemon, Makoto and Emi get along pretty well. They argue a normal amount. Where Hajime's daemon pesters Hajime with all his buried anxieties, Emi has a more subdued temperament. She's usually sitting on Makoto's lap; he emotes more than she does. When he loses his temper or otherwise is overtaken by emotion, she is kind of quiet. Which isn't because she isn't feeling the emotions; his soul isn't super outwardly emotive because he's kind of internalized that how he feels isn't a high priority for other people. When she feels a strong feeling, she'll mostly just tense up and he'll stroke her back to try to soothe her.

She's more extroverted than Hajime's daemon, though. Hajime's daemon pretty much only speaks to him, until all the stuff has happened and it can't trust Izuru. Emi is very social and friendly with the daemons of Makoto's friends and acquaintances, she sometimes is the one to introduce them (herself and Makoto, I mean) to new people, and she often makes observations about how other people are doing or acting. (She becomes less socially adventurous after the killing game. She sticks to Makoto and his friends more and generally only talks to new people if she feels moved to express compassion.)

It's still taboo to touch someone else's daemon, but people feel strongly tempted when they look at Emi; she looks so soft and fluffy. Symbolic of how people find themselves really wanting to be close to Makoto, despite themselves.

Plus, she sometimes chimes into conversations with the weird, random stuff Makoto thinks but doesn't say.

Farther along the timeline, I like Makoto being an important person, post-killing game, and having SUCH a vulnerable daemon. Like, I want people setting non-lethal traps for rabbits, because if they can get Emiko in a cage, they'll have a huge amount of leverage over Makoto.

Imagining there's propaganda images of a rabbit standing victorious on top of a demolished Monokuma. Maybe the Future Foundation tends to use images of a white rabbit, even though Emi's fur is brown, which is symptomatic of how they care less about what Makoto actually is and represents than what they think they can spin in their favor.

And here's a sketch that I can only justify to myself by remembering that it's practice.

[sparkplgggrrrrrrr]

Affogato Cookie Headcanons 🤤

WARNING: religious trauma, religious abuse, cults ________________________________

⭑.ᐟ Affogato has long pointed nails that he has a disciple maintain for him

⭑.ᐟ His skin tone is less saturated, not because he doesn’t moisturize but because the moisturizer he is able to get is too weak for the cold climate in the cacao kingdom’s environment.

⭑.ᐟ Affogato’s canonical apathy towards other people is apart of a predisposed mental disorder that he has from his genes that increased in intensity as his trauma progressed, I headcanon specifically that he has ASPD [Antisocial personality disorder] (NOTE: I do NOT view people with ASPD as villains just because I see ASPD criteria in a character that happens to be a villain. People with ASPD are HUMAN, treat them like humans.) because he fits three or more of the DSM-5 criteria:

• Impulsivity or failure to plan.

• Deceitfulness, repeated lying, use of aliases, or conning others for pleasure or personal profit.

• Reckless disregard for the safety of self or others.

• Lack of remorse, indifference to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another person.

• The individual is at least age 18.

• The occurrence of antisocial behavior is not exclusively during the course of schizophrenia or bipolar disorder.

⭑.ᐟ Affogato’s actions are not to be forgiven, excused, or pardoned just because he shows signs of a vulnerability and a complex disorder. He is not this way because he hates himself, he is this way because he’s fucked up beyond saving, acting the way he does is his defense from being broken down.

⭑.ᐟ Affogato uses eating as a coping mechanism for stress, boredom, depression, and anxiety. He does this as he did not have this method of coping as a younger person, so now that he has this opportunity, he’ll take it to the fullest extent.

⭑.ᐟ I also headcanon that Affogato experiences manic episodes, not related to bipolar disorder’s hypomania, or schizophrenic mania., but manic episodes regardless, as impulsivity is a core component of ASPD.

⭑.ᐟ Affogato DOES NOT have NPD OR bipolar disorder., a trait of NPD is lying to avoid shame, a trait of ASPD is lying without remorse and/or for gain. There’s a misconception I’ve seen where people tend to view Affogato as a person with NPD, but, NPD is often confused for ASPD.

⭑.ᐟ Affogato makes his disciples pray by way of altars in their individual chambers, by which they offer expensive materialistic items or food they made from the citadel’s ovens to Fortuna. Affogato checks at the end of every week to see if they’ve offered, and then he takes the items from the altar, saying that they will be burned to send off to Fortuna, but in reality, are kept for himself.

⭑.ᐟ Affogato makes his disciples speak in tongues and chants during group rituals,, but the chaos is amped up by exotic Choconilla Swirl birds (a species I made up.) that are kept in cages, as the loud speaking in chanting tongues increases in chaos, the birds are spooked. The birds in cages create loud noise, which overstimulates the disciples, distressing them as they chant to the point of breaking down, these breakdowns lead them to believe that they are being acknowledged by Fortuna. Affogato watches this, occasionally yelling at them to do something more or to direct them in prayer. They do this chanting around a purple fire pit with a hanging idol painting above it on the ceiling, and they’re not allowed to look down from its gaze. Fire is the room’s only light, so disciples are only able to see the flame and the idol painting.

My inspiration for this headcanon was this song by Reverend Kristin Micheal Hayter

[IF YOU HAVE RELIGIOUS TRAUMA LISTEN WITH CAUTION!]

⭑.ᐟ Affogato trains his priests in heavy self discipline, by writing their prayers in the air with smoke from an incense stick for HOURS, until their arms are numb and pained. He does this for his own entertainment, because he knows that he is leading them down a path of undivided devotion and self destruction. And if a priest in training is to not finish a prayer in the time it takes to burn an incense stick down to its last end, he makes them start over.

_____________________________________________

These headcanons were made by both me and my boyfriend 🤤

@magical-fudge-berry

[jesterjazz]

So I heard you like Wicked too?

Which songs from Wicked do you think would fit the FOP characters?

For Good is obviously Timmy and his fairies which you already made a post about, peak >>>> You made another ask but I also agree that As Long As You're Mine is Coswan coded Popular goes to Blonda, no question. Even though we only had one episode with her, she means the world to me. It's very obvious she's a parody of those diva celebrities and Glinda at the start can seem like a mean girl diva. Plus they're both blonde with curly/swirly hair.

I can easily see Blonda in the Glinda role and Wanda as Elphaba for that song. But I raise a more interesting concept, Blonda and Peri. Peri as a baby was naturally confident but with how much of an anxious mess he grew up to be I headcanon that the pressure of fame got to him as a teen growing up. Like damn I was the first fairy baby in a hot minute, and I can see Blonda showing him the ropes of fame through musical theatre. Next song, Dancing Through Life (well at least the first half) I can see Cosmo as Fiyero sooooo well. I mean- Life's more painless, for the brainless

Thanks to this writing guide/cosmo analysis I've realized Cosmo is a little smarter and self aware then he seems. He's seen as an idiot and can play into that. Fiyero does the same thing when he's first introduced in the musical, but it's an act of sorts. Which Dancing Through Life demonstrates beautifully. The rest of the song is more focused about the shifting character dynamics but that first part with Fiyero really gets to me. I was writing Timmy as Spider-Man like two days ago (stick with me) and as I wrote a scene where he was being a selfish jerk (which he tends to be in canon sometimes) and No Good Deed started playing in my head and snuck it's way into my writing. I've always been fascinated by the episode where Timmy does a bunch of good things for his friends and then gets punished for it so he wishes he was never born. It was really messed up but yeah, people in Timmy's life (outside of his fairies) don't really appericate him. AJ got insanely jealous when Timmy got an A once. Chester and AJ started playing a new game Timmy got when Timmy wasn't even there. These are random examples but those are the vibes I get from them. I mean the whole world is cartoonish against Timmy, and the times he does do good things he gets the short end of the stick. Wishing his mom's garden was alive and it bringing back a deadly hamster... Wishing Vicky remained his babysitter just so he'd keep his fairies longer... Wishing Vicky wasn't evil and then an evil bug almost infecting the president. That boy can't catch a break fr. I'll end off on a fun one, One Short Day. I can see that being Peri and Timmy being excited to explore fairy world, especially since they grew up on Earth. Fun brotherly bonding time. Two boys LET LOSE IN FAIRYWORLD!! MORE AT ELEVEN

[lgbtlunaverse]

hi i'm off work and love pointless discourse, so i've been summoned lol but definitely delete if you dont find this fun! RE the poll about jc's best partner and co-parent though, i hear the argument for mian mian but still dont agree that being a good parent of one kid equals being a good parent of a future sect leader with so much trauma AND partner to a current sect leader with so much trauma lollll but More importantly than that!! who did you vote for 😂

I'm including a sceenshot that you can check against the current number of votes and remaining time so you can see i'm not lying because I have, in fact, not voted in the poll because I wasn't sure.

Listen, everyone in mdzs has trauma. Mianmian's probably got a shitton of trauma from that one time people literally tried to use her as live bait. No one's gonna fix jiang cheng's trauma, at least no one on this list.

Wen qing's a great doctor but no therapist, though she would make for a great co-leader of a sect and having another 'strict parent' involved (rather than jgy's more indulgent gentle parenting style) might help jc chill out a little.

Ofc jgy himself is also an option: proven to be good at leading a sect, also proven to be a good coparent to jl... are we including the part where yknow he is hunted for all his crimes and dies, though? Because that kinda disqualifies him as ideal candidate.

Xiao xingchen is kind and good with kids, but he is also like... 17 a year after wwx's death which means ahe-wose he's more 'older brother' range to jin ling than "parent" and also he explicitly does not want to stay put. Mianmian only left because of grave moral differnces xxc literally hates the concept of being stuck in a major clan. (Unless the fact that jin ling is heir to jinlintai+jc having no other heirs means he gets to convert yunmeng jiang to that merit-based sect he was dreaming of. Then he'd have a great time.) Unfortunately being stick with a strict idealist tends to not go well for jiang cheng, and if the whole xue yang situation still happens (i do not mean yi city, i mean the part where xxc is the one who hunted him down in the first place) could politically get... very uncomfortable. Especially for jin ling.

Nmj did also already help raise a child buuuut he's proto-suicidal and let's not make jiang cheng a widow.

Wei wuxian already knows and loves jiang cheng, the jiang, and jin ling and would be an ideal candidate if nit for... you know.

Lan wangji is also good at handling a sect plus kids, actually i've read fics with this premise, it's just you do need to dedicate 10K words of plot to get them to stop hissing at each other.

Wen Ning isn't great with politics but likely pretty good with kids, but he has lwj's problem except Even More so cause he genuinely hates jc. Also if jiang cheng is parenting jin ling here that means zixuan and yanli are in fact still dead which means he's out of the running.

Lan Xichen is good at politics plus pretty good with kids and yeah if canon plays out as it does that's pretty rough, but it wouldn't be quite as retraumatizing as what happened to jgy (considering that was lxc has is also just... the trauma of being a part of what happened to jgy) and he and jin ling could bond over that if they were closer. And unlike the previous two options he is at worst neutral to jc in canon.

For all that fanon has Song Lan as A-Qing's second parent he only knew her for like... a few minutes total. Same problem as xxc on the xue yang thing too.

I don't think huaisang or xue yang should raise a child. So I guess congratulations to the xichengers because he's looking like the best option here.

[cerenemuxse]

ryan human HCs because i said something about him a while ago-

Ryan Grover (omg the blue guy from Sesame Street-)

Ryan seems like a pushover but the guy has his boundaries. He just exists. 🧍‍♂️

Scots-Mexican! 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 🇲🇽 (born in Scotland)

Most of his cousins from his mama's side are Mexican, born in England, whereas Ryan's dad is Scottish (where Grover is taken from). (maybe i'll make a separate post about the "Gresleys." maybe)

In England, Ryan's mother's family is well-known in the neighborhood a lot of them are piled up in. Ryan's family sticks out for being the only ones in Scotland but also because his mother didn't marry in Mexico and left, whereas the others did, then left.

He's the cousin at family reunions who prefers hanging out with the non-dramatic ones, aka the ones playing video games or chatting with cousins his age, and far away from the family gossip.

(Gamecube, Nintendo 64. Nintendo Wii, and Gameboy type of guy)

yeah he plays Minecraft. others are SMG (1 and 2), SM64, SM Sunshine, and games within the same type of genre. only mario kart he has is double dash and wii

speaking of which, he is a Wii Rainbow Road enjoyer 🌈💫

Ryan's parents hold him up to high standards. The only ones he does reach are his academics but its because he wants to, not because of his parents. His parents care but their priorities aren't set straight. Sometimes his parents get overbearing so he prefers to chill at his boyfriend's (Thomas) more welcoming home, bringing along their girlfriend, Ashima. Or at least have a space where he can do his work calmly. Only way he's able to keep his academics high

Bikes to and from school since its in the same town. this is what it looks like! :D

(CW/TW: Near car collision)

Despite the lack of car drivers in Sodor, they have the occasional wreckless driver. One of them nearly hit Ryan right as he was about to cross the street. The air force caused by the driver speeding by mixed with the shock was enough to startle Ryan and knock him over. He turned ok, thx to hall monitors being nearby and his bike helmet. The only reason why he even stopped was because Thomas noticed, and had he not called out for him, Ryan could've been struck. This happened at the end of his first week at the new school. (also new to Sodor in general)

Ryan wears beanies, and he likes leaving tufts of his fringe sticking out. His parents do this which he's just used to at this point. He wont say anything, but when Gordon (14 years older AND an assistant principal at his school) does it, he does get noticeably irritated. He will just leave. Gordon may be his older cousin, but Ryan does not need another parental figure like his parents. He prefers his own parents to nitpick, thank you very much.

Ryan loves Fiji Blue (//projecting). His fav songs from them are "I'll Never Change" and "Only When You Look Into Your Eyes." Also likes the album "Sin Frenos" from "La Quinta Estacion" (//projecting). fav from that album is "Quiereme Mucho."

Speaking of Thomas, because of that first week, he has respect for Thomas, despite how Thomas tends to act from scoffing to straight up ignoring him (you bet Edward gave him an earful when he eventually found out. "I raised you better!!!"). He just brushes it off because he is fully aware of why Thomas is like that. He may be slow at picking up signs but he isn't oblivous, being very aware about everything around him. Ryan hates that this is why he can't get along with Thomas at the time, but again, he brushes it off and continues to be friendly, hoping they can become friends.

One of his favorites pass times is going to the park on his bike, finding a tree with good shade, and lying down while listening to his music with earbuds on.

He plays the acoustic guitar and ukulele!

"wavy" (ends tend to curl up A LOT), dark red/ginger hair coming from both of his parents

Also bad at respecting personal space as in he will peak over your shoulder if you're someone close *cof*Thomas*eep*. Its a habit that wasn't corrected by his parents because that's usually who he does it with, including his siblings!

speaking of siblings, he's one of the older ones!

HE DECORATES HIS BIKE HELMET WITH STICKERS !!! TRUST !!! It's green, completely covered in stickers about memes, musical artists, or random things. mostly the first two hehe-

I HAVE RYAN DESIGNED (somewhat) but the outfit's uh- questionable :/ better than the first one i gave eugh- SO HAVE HIS HEAD

[weepingwriter]

Proxy Headcannons

TW: I couldn't find anything but please feel free to comment if I need to edit!!

–The Proxies Overall–

Their working with the Operator has allowed for all three to gain enhancements of their normal abilities. 

All of them are stronger than average and faster than average

They can regenerate so long as they are close enough in proximity to the Operator.

They have better hearing than most normal humans.

They are ranked above pastas. The system is a hierarchy so very few proxies actually exist under the Operators rule, but many pastas exist. 

—Brian Thomas—

This man is massive. He stands at the towering height of 6’6” and weighs around 220 lbs. This man could crush your head like a watermelon between his thighs if he really wanted to. 

Out of the three proxies, he probably has the best relationship with the operator. This isn't because he has a good relationship with it, but because he is the one who fights his control the least. 

“Hoodie” is just a persona of sorts that Brian puts on when he works. He does this as a way to cope with the reality of how his life has changed since he started working for the eldritch being. 

For him it’s like acting. He steps foot into a character and steps out as soon as the job is over and his mask is off

He only wears his mask and hoodie when he’s working as well, this feeds into his dramatization of his work.

This isn't to say that Brian is still his same bubbly self as he was in college. This life has still hardened him. He has become a paranoid, harsh, shell of himself.

Brian tends to be the most manipulative out of the three. He can play Mr. Charming and gain the trust of others easily. He will use whoever he can to get whatever he wants.

He’s very good at reading people. He tends to be a rather social butterfly and makes friends much easier than Tim and Toby. 

He definitely blames himself for dragging both Tim and Jay into this life. 

His favorite weather is when there’s lots of thunderstorms and heavy rain. It tends to help him sleep better at night.

His favorite genre of music is probably old country. Think Johnny Cash and George Jones. He despises most new country though. If he’s not listening to that then he’s probably listening to 90’s grunge. 

He prefers to use CDs and cassette tapes rather than phones or computers. He just enjoys the aesthetic of it a lot.

His favorite game is Mario kart, specifically on the Wii.

His favorite food is biscuits and gravy. He’s a southern boy so it’s a comforting, cheap meal that he can make rather easily.

Probably the best cook in the house when he does cook. He doesn’t do it very often because of lack of supplies however.

—Tim Wright—

Chronic smoker. Like a pack-a-day kind of guy. It’s the first thing he does in the morning.

Funnily enough he still brushes his teeth after every cigarette if he can. If not, he’s chewing on a stick of gum right after.

Big man as well, but definitely shorter than Brian. He stands at around 6’0” even and weighs near 210 lbs as well. Think of your typical strong-man build

He’s the shortest of the proxies, but he makes up for it in brute strength. This man is like a fucking tank, he can and will run someone down if he gets the chance.

He probably fights the operator the most when it comes to allowing it to fully take over. He’ll do his job as asked so long as it allows him to stay in control of his body.

He definitely has the shortest temper. Ever since he was forced into this life Tim’s limits have been pushed and he tends to lash out on whoever he can in the moment.

He also tends to be rather insensitive even to his work partners' needs or emotions. In his mind, this world is do or die, there’s no room for thoughts and feelings about how these things work.

Tim enjoys alternative music, more on the softer early 2000’s rock side, but he’s also grown rather fond of Brian’s country music as well. His favorite band is probably three days grace or breaking benjamin

He tends to hum little songs through the day when he’s off duty, often when he’s doing mundane tasks like chores and whatnot to fill the silence. Sometimes, if he can get his hand on one, he’ll still practice the guitar on days off.

Very very private man. He doesn’t like talking about his past, his problems, his life, his anything. He’s got walls around him stronger than steel and very few people are allowed in.

For a while he held a lot of resentment towards Brian but he had since gotten through it. Sometimes when they fight however he does bring up their past in fits of anger. He never really means what he says though.

Is by far one of the most loyal men you will ever meet in your life. No matter how many fights with Brian and Toby he has he will remain by their side and stick up for them in any circumstance. He does not take kindly to anyone shittalking his teammates.

An early bird. Tim enjoys having the mornings to himself so he can sit outside and sip on a cup of coffee. Because of this, he tends to be in bed by 10 pm at the latest to make sure he gets enough sleep.

His favorite time of the year is spring. He doesn’t like when it’s too hot or too cold outside. Surprisingly, he does like to look at flowers as they remind him of his mom and his life before all this.

His favorite flowers are magnolias

—Toby Rogers—

Toby is the second tallest within the group, standing at the height of 6’2”. He weighs about 155-160 lbs. He absolutely loves to pick on Tim because of their height difference.

Tends to be the most hostile to new people due to his lack of social skills. He’s rather untrusting and wary, especially of older men.

Is rather indifferent about his facial scarring. Really the only reasons he will cover up with a mask or bandage is if they’re out in town and they need to be inconspicuous.

Despite him being on the leaner side Toby does have this abnormal strength about him. Definitely has a sleeper build. When out in public he tends to wear more loose clothing that hides his physique but at home it's all tank tops and muscle shirts for training. 

Has a lot of sensory issues. He hates to be in loud or crowded places for long periods of time. He’s learned to get over it with time, but being at home in his room is definitely his preferred place. 

He cannot stand the texture of some clothes. If it doesn't feel right then he literally will not wear it. Same goes for certain blankets or sheets even.

He spends a lot of his free time either reading or drawing. Toby has a rather overactive imagination so he really immerses himself into his fantasy worlds that he creates

Toby by far has the most difficult relationship with the operator. This isn’t because he fights like Tim does, but simply because it takes the worst toll on his body and mind. Because of the lapses in memory and overworking of his body Toby ends up hurt or drained for days, sometimes even weeks after missions.

He definitely is the most okay with the work they do. He doesn't really feel any guilt or other emotions when it comes to his victims. To him they don’t really exist outside of this little vacuum of work. He barely even recognizes them as human.

Toby definitely is the clingiest out of the boys as well. He has his few select people that he enjoys being around and he tends to linger around them when possible. He’s not one for much physical touch with friends however, he just needs to be able to see them.

His favorite genre of music is probably metalcore/electronic metal. He really enjoys Bring Me the Horizon, Linkin Park, and Motionless in White. He however will listen to just about anything and has the most diverse playlists in the house.

His favorite season/weather is Winter. Toby loves the snow and how crisp and soft it is. He could spend hours outside when it snows. 

Toby is actually the usual cook in the home. Despite his usual depiction, he has a rather steady hand especially when he’s concentrating on something. His tics tend to be more verbal anyways than physical.

This man is scarily fast. Genuinely if he had gone to high school he would likely have been a track star. He can run a mile in just under six minutes. If a victim does manage to escape from his teammates, he's on their asses faster than they can blink half the time. 

Toby has very few memories of his life before the operator. He knows faintly of his family and their names but he cannot remember faces or voices. Trying to make him remember anything further often leads to rather bad episodes for him, so Tim and Brian do their best not to bring up his past or ask too many questions about it. 

[immoralimmortals]

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 57: Baby

Chapter 1 ☆ Previous chapter ☆ AO3 ☆ Featured song playlist

Chapter Summary: The hardest thing of all is to accept that maybe, just maybe, you're not as unlovable as you want yourself to be. So what do you do now? Kisame has two very difficult conversations, talking to others about aspects of himself that he wishes weren't there.

Author's Note:

This chapter has a bit of spice to it as a heads up! We all knew Deidara's hands would be made use of sooner or later. The song for this chapter is Baby by Helena Deland. Thank you @mabzerie for beta reading! <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Take off your wig

Oh, let me stare

I'll keep un-cross-dressing you no matter where

Paint my nails

And when they're dry

Undo my hair, you're taking me out for a drive

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The woman grimaces, managing to hold back a squeak as Kakuzu continues his inspection. He’s thankful for the closed door; from a distance, it’d seem like he’s looking up her skirt. His hands inspect her thigh. Her flesh is so...malleable. It was the day he mended it, but the rush of saving her life and reputation gave little leeway for such contemplation. But now...it’s really sticking with him.

But unfortunately another thing’s sticking in this situation too.

Kakuzu pulls back and exhales, looking to the woman holding her hiked up dress up to her pelvis, worried look on her face. “I wish you told me sooner,” he says as kindly as he can, though the admonishment can’t be helped.

Her head just turns in a quiet shame. “I thought it...it…” This excuse is pretty poor now, the wound looking as rough as it does.“...Was just part of the healing,” she mumbles.

But it’s not. What a fool the old man is, expecting her to be sewn back up like he is— like he does for Hidan— and her body recover on its own just fine. She doesn’t even have chakra. How the hell do cells even heal without chakra?!

He traces over his weaving carefully, looking at the anomalies. Red, of course, especially at the entry points of the thread. But those points are swollen, too, and the surrounding area is a shade of purple. “You said it hurts?” Kakuzu asks for confirmation. Unfortunately, she nods. His answer is a louder, more suffering sigh.

“...I can’t fix it any further,” he admits, his hearts sinking alongside the expression the news makes her give. “All I have left is to take the stitches out...but even that might be risky. I don’t have faith your puncture is all closed up on its own,” the man adds with dismay.

Silly girl becomes serious again, swallowing the lump in her throat and watching Kakuzu’s palms caress either side of her thigh, taking that detail in as a small comfort. She’s not alone, at least. “So...what do we do?”

…

…

“That isn’t an easy question, Takara,” he murmurs, eyes narrowing— though not in the angry way they usually do. Something more...harrowed. “These are the options…:”

Options! She perks up. That means there’s hope…!

“The only person I know in reasonable distance with medical expertise like this is Sasori. That redhead,” he clarifies, as if she needs a reminder. Maybe he does, with how reserved both he and the scorpion tend to be. “But…”

She blinks, brow curling. But…?

Second by second, like water from a leaky faucet does the truth drip down and sink in. The only way you could make the situation more grim was if a puppy died. “But…” she repeats, and the slight tremble in her voice is heart-wrenching.

But, is what both know and thus neither need to say, then Sasori would know.

And if Sasori knows, then everyone could.

That’s a reason that his offerings to “dress her” have always been so anxiety-inducing, despite the flattery. Kakuzu’s stitches hide a mere few slips of cloth away from the rest of the world.

“...I’ll keep an eye on it,” she says with strained confidence, as if she wasn’t going to already. As if she hasn’t been doing it all along. After a second of resignation with this attitude, Kakuzu’s rough hands slip away from her body and gently tug her dress back down. His thumb trails against the delicate lace almost like it could be her skin.

“Alright.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ouh, I can live without

You but I forgot

'Cause you're so baby

Take me upstairs

Let's go get down

And if I don't know the tune I'll dance around

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The bedtime routine of a yellow-haired bird and his siren is rather well established by now, given the day is as typical as the chaotic Akatsuki base allows. Bedtime hygiene comes first. Deidara slinks reluctantly out of the steaming bath tub, tilting his head over it as he finishes combing his fine hair, letting the spare droplets trickle down. With a weary sigh, he finishes toweling off the body before tossing the cloth over his shoulder and walking to the mirror.

Squeak, squeak. He keeps his mouths shut as palms rub away the fog over glass. So how’s he lookin’…?

Pursed lips and half-lidded eyes note that the makeup isn’t all gone; gotta fix that. Careful fingertips massage around his lashes, the black dye eventually fading further and further into nothing. Ah, that’s better! A small smirk to himself and he stands up straight, arms folded. Yeah, that looks less like a sobbing widow with extra thick mascara.

“Mm…?”

It’s easy to forget sometimes, how second nature his most unusual attachment has become. It squirms— not much, but still enough to require attention. A fingernail plucks the loosest stitch over his heart a little tighter. A few more shifts of the skin around the giant mouth and it calms. Good. Just needed some tightening, is all.

The sewn appendage receives a few pats— as if it can appreciate such a gesture— and Deidara brushes his teeth, combs his now dry hair, and begins step two of his nightly ritual. Frankly, the part he enjoys the most as of late.

“How did today treat you, Takara-chan?”

The girl addressed gives a quick glance up towards the entry before just as soon falling down to the old rug. He smiles to her as always, but it can’t help but falter; that reaction of hers definitely means something’s up for her.

“Takara-chan?” he prods, stepping into the room. Oh, why do people tend to get so quiet just when there’s something he gets curious about? Her of all people...especially bad at it. Nearly as bad as his dear danna.

“...It was fine.” But he knows it can’t be. Her tone is too soft and her fingers are fidgeting, a habit the lady has when anxious. Tearing her skin usually; that’s why he tries to help keep them still or busy. This time, however, they grip and fumble the skirt of her nightgown. Not at the end, mind you, not like she’s lifting it up like a showgirl; it’s a bundle she’s made over her thigh, tugging it up and up till it’s folding over that spot.

“You sure it was fine? Un?” he allows for a second chance. But just as he starts to approach, the touchy woman throws herself onto her side, laying down, nearly violently pulling her quilt overtop. Hardly a second later, her face is buried into the back cushions of the couch. Soon as she does, his expression is exactly as annoyed as he feels, complete with narrowed eyes and stretched frown and slumped shoulders.

Well. That’s a way to end a conversation, grumbles the narrator in his head. “...Alright then.”

Final step of the routine goes without her usual conversation, and it will be oh-so-sorely missed. Without even needing to look at his target, the artist falls backwards into the trusty chair he’s called his bed. Weird, sure, but no more strange than how she calls that sagging piece of furniture her bed. Half in routine and half in hope, he exhales again and says, “Goodnight, Takara-chan.”

He stares at the back of her head, waiting...but no response comes. She pretends to already be asleep until, eventually, sleep comes.

She’ll wish it didn’t.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

'Cause you've got ways, you've got ways

You've got ways, you've got ways

You've got ways I haven't seen on anyone

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

What does it mean to give someone a dream?

It means that you project onto someone else. Prompt. You show them things. But ultimately...it is still their mind. They will create complex machinations that you cannot predict, no more than one can know the deepest corners of the psyche. Like a drop of water rippling the pool. Like What Tobi gave was sweet. It was soft, kind, and reverent. Kisses and holds, and yes even some touches, but it was more like...the idea of such things. The sensation of love. Not quite the same as real life. It didn’t come with any of the fear, the nuances or mistakes. That kind of sweetness is like tapping into a vein of gold in the mine that is the human brain. So while she got one thing at first, what the performer continues to get will be different.

And there’s no one but her to blame.

Something deep inside this woman has been stirred, much like a ladle’s whirl in a witch’s cauldron, much like how wind twist the clouds just before a tornado. The dream Tobi gave touched something deep, deep inside. A pure place.

A sinful place.

The dream he gave, the fantasies she’s had, and the nightmares that have plagued her are all becoming one.

In…

…Out.

The tide leaves a man with her— retracting but not without assigning someone to blanket her body in its stead. The water, the ocean...it is there but has no frothy whites. The wave that pulled back was hot, like just-spilled blood. It looks sort of red, too, in this dark world. Her eye feels funny. She looks up at the sun and it’s orange and unending.

“Takara-chan…!” the shape whispers, so coy into her ear. It straddles her, knees on either side of her hips. What’s the matter, Takara-chan? What’s a good girl like you doing here like this?

The mask twists and twists until it’s someone else. In her heart, she knows that smile. The way his gaze is so manic as hair cascades down so it nearly touches her nose. But he smiles all the time, so she’s never sure what he’s smiling about.

Now, maybe, isn’t so different, even if overt intentions are blunt.

She’ll be had. He’s earned it. He’s won their game.

Palms cup her cheeks and their tongues emerge, wet and warm like the water to swirl over her sea-salted face. A stutter comes from her lips, but she can’t manage to object. Oh? You like that, do you? Of course you do, she imagines him saying.

“I know the kind of person you really are.”

Deidara’s shadow smirks a new way, lopsided, and the twin pairs of lips start to travel down her jaw.

“I know what you want.”

Suckling her neck. Pinch, nibble, bite. How is that, dear? Isn’t that exactly right? You got him, sweet siren. Or maybe he’s gotten you first.

“I know what you need.”

Lithe fingers pull fabric from the center of her breasts. And then, like the most natural perfection, there’s a hand for each, shaped for one another like locks and keys. She feels first the press of fingertips, the obsession the man has over them. And then, the inevitable. She calls out into the great bloody nothing as the palms masterfully writhe moist muscles on the center targets. The shade of Deidara moans.

“Gorgeous girl…”

His mouths knead as the unoccupied lips sigh in ecstasy.

“Beautiful physique…”

They tug like the flesh on her rib cage is his to mold however the sculptor pleases.

“You’re everything a man could ever want...un…”

Gentle but certain, teeth dragging along, leaving the lightest of marks. Just like his clay, Deidara makes her completely and utterly his own magnificent art.

The smile, oh the smile. His bright blue eye. She wonders if he really does want her. She wonders if this, by the contrary, is just proving a point. This isn’t the real world, she inherently knows, but the beach has revealed more truth about her than she’s ever known.

She feels the tide come in, warm like a hot bath and just a little bit sticky. It swallows her over her, lapping like his tongues. The shadow descends upon her to complete their merging form, and in anticipation, she shuts her eyes.

…

...Out.

Deidara’s face is gone. Somehow, that mask is back. The red eye is in the center of the spiral, and something in her feels light and heavy all at once. Tobi! Thoughts ignored start to ravel together. Tobi was the one that gave her a dream. He showed her love that night— some of it real and some of it presented like a prophesy. How does he know? Why does he care?

Gloved hands now, no mouths to be found, are the ones on her, and they’re no longer playing. Simply...holding. Possessing. The spiral looms over her, red sky bright above and waves in her ears.

The mask is good for one thing only. It tells her exactly what it wants. He wants her to have these things with these people. But what it won’t tell her is why. But why does he want this? But why...?

Tobi’s grip suddenly feels like a pin to the earth, much like when he hid her underground. Like when he made her fall asleep, despite her wishes. Overwhelmed and feeling the tide over her feet, she closes her eyes again.

In…

…

And now everyone is there. Eyes and rings all that’s visible within the masses of black. Wanting. Waiting. Wanting. Scrutiny falls onto her, the hearts of many on one side of a scale. Little old her and her alone is on the other. Her hands garden and garden in the strange sandy soil and her fingers retract the root of evil, drenched in blood that stains her skin forever. It begins to grow into and then beneath her skin as she dares to hold it in her hands.

The sun in the sky shifts little by little like a mask slipping, and something terrible is underneath.

“Takara-chan, un!”

The woman swings herself straight up in bed, noise in the air that it takes a moment to recognize as hers. The yelling wanes. Chest heaves, up and down, up and down, in and out, in...and out.

She notices his eye, lacking the liner— the sharpness and theater that usually masks what’s underneath. The softness. The calm. This is real, that’s really her friend. The ocean waves stop crashing for a moment, cease pounding the head. The blonde gives her a worried, twitching glance up and down.

“Breathe for me, un,” the man urges, and something about it is just enough to break through and convince. So she goes in…

...Out.

There’s weight on her shoulders. Her hands move up and...his are there. Holding onto her.

“You okay?”

...And she realizes Deidara shook her awake. A flush immediately washes over her cheeks. “Deidara— oh fuck, I’m sorry!” she stutters. A slap to her forehead. “Ah...ah geez...I woke you up…!”

“You did,” he agrees, with just a hint of snark as he often holds, but the rest of him in contrast still seems concerned. His untied hair falls so gracefully as he tilts his head, usually covered eye now visible. His smile...is that smile still so devious? What is he thinking? What does Deidara want?!

“You were having a nightmare,” he deduces.

...Oh. A few blinks before she realizes the obvious. “...Yeah,” she admits, fool she is.

Now that she’s not squirming like a worm pierced on a fishing hook, Deidara takes liberty to maneuver himself to sit next to the bizarre woman, hands at first letting go but one quickly returning as he puts an arm around her shoulders. A slight squeeze to try to lighten the atmosphere, get her to trust him, and the stare blue as a clear sky tries to peer through her head in the clouds.

“What was it about?”

It stings how easy it is to see. Just makes it feel all the more necessary to keep the contents a secret. As he tries to be closer, she seems to retreat, pull herself further and further into an invisible point of gravitation in the center of her chest. That, however, isn’t the reason why she pulls the blanket to pile over her breasts. Unable to meet his eyes, she hugs the fabric and whispers, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

It is easy to see, much easier than she thinks. The quiver in her voice is so obvious. What is she trying to hide? “Takara-chan…?”

…

Deidara sighs as the girl remains like a kid scared of the dark. If he wants more, he realizes, it’s going to be up to him to get it. “Takara-chan.”

A playful but very, very gentle shove of his free hand upon the arm closest to him. He gives his best smile— the trademark, the winner. Hopefully it’ll be enough. “You remember the whole point of me being here is that you aren’t alone...right?”

…

Her eyes trail to his fingertips. Is she imagining how tender they are? She sees the shapes upon his palm, the mounds that taste and bite.

“Point is,” he continues, “I suppose I should remind you that I’m not here at night without reason. Do you— and think about it this time, darling— are you certain you don’t want to talk about it?”

…

Of course she does. It’s such a hard thing to be alone with. But he of all people shouldn’t be subjected to this, especially not the specifics of tonight, sinful imaginations of him under this icy winter moon. The stranger can’t be so cruel. Desperate for diversion, she remembers, now, another conversation she almost had with him, the last time he and her in a different sort of way had shared a dream. Maybe that’s just what she needs…

“D-...Deidara…”

He perks up— not the excited kind, not like a how a dog sees a ball or a bird sees a worm. It’s slow; it’s gradual. For a man who loves things that are bombastic, he really has such an unbelievable nature about him. Internally she staggers; it still won’t be an easy subject to talk about.

“I’ve...had nightmares for a long time,” the performer attempts. “Since I was little. At first it was because things scared me at night. I’ve told a few people this, so maybe you already know...but a tree fell in my room when I was a kid. So sleep is...hard. It’s hard to let my guard down, for one...but then when I do sleep...it’s not always good.”

And before he interrupts, she elaborates the next part of her tale.

“But. It got worse when I went to school. Kids are...mean...you know? They don’t understand they’re being mean. Or if they do...they...well...they think it’s justice. All this to say...I can’t blame them. I can’t blame children. But...I was a kid too. You know?” the woman beseeches again, seeming so small.

He blinks, leaning his head closer towards her as the sculptor listens.

“I’m a people-pleaser because...I believed if I was good enough, it’d stop happening. But it’s not that simple. You know?” And Deidara does know, he supposes. “I would lay down at night and remember everything that happened to me that day. How horrible I feel. The inevitability of tomorrow.”

She remembers the hot tears on her face.

He wonders what this means for their nighttime routine, how he always asks about her day. Does it hurt, having to do it again and again?

“I...I guess I’m not quite sure what to do now that I’m all grown up and I still have to carry it like grief with me.” A bitter smile, tears in her eyes as she excuses her own pain before he can. “It’s just silly, right? You guys risk your lives every day and I’m still thinking about the playground. It’s stupid. I know it is.”

But the lonely girl on the swing set is hard to forget. They shed the same tears and they look on at the world with the same big, alien eyes. It’s so big. It’s so bright. How can people do it? From where she sits at the edge of the fence, it’s like they’re walking into the sun.

Sometimes the woman is laid in bed and it’s like she never grew up at all. She hears an exhale beside her ear.

“Well...at least you’re aware of it.”

...Ah. Of course he agrees. That’s good. It’s easier if he doesn’t lie about how dumb it is—

“But it’s your struggle...you know?”

An audible “huh” and her head whips straight up to look at him. The smile— that smile...no, it isn’t devious at all, is it? It’s...kind? Yes. It’s...kind…!

“I’m no shrink, mind you, but...I like to think I have enough insight to know that whatever the worst things you've experienced— however they’d be if I lived it instead— is still pretty bad to you regardless. Still the worst you’ve experienced.” The touch on her arm lowers...down...to her hand. The lips of his palm are right there, so close he could kiss. Despite the distraction, the veracity he speaks is so sharp that she still can manage to listen.

“I was trained for this life,” he says, though a touch of melancholy tints it too. “Trained to expect push-back. Pain. Critique.” The last stated as if it’s the worst of all three. “It prepared me to be a better artist, un. You, however…” He looks at her, frail and shaking and wide eyed. “I have a hunch you weren’t trained for anything at all. ...Is that correct?”

Ah, there’s the rub. “I— I. I was,” she has to admit, no matter how it hurts. “But I think it was...what made the problem happen.”

“People-pleasing?” he guides.

“...Yeah. Not...wanting to ignore them. Wanting to be better for them...instead.”

A brow raises, expression he wears shifting into disdain. “Trained from a young age to please the ones that hurt you?” he repeats, rephrasing to be sure he’s understanding properly. As she nods, his eyes narrow. “Well. That’s fucked up,” he puts bluntly.

And something about that puts her heavy heart at ease.

“Yeah,” she grins, still bitter but now more sweet. “It is.”

He’s won the match, making her smile for real, and his delight can’t be ignored. The man brightens so beautifully in the night, this shade of an old and abandoned living room in the forest. Like a lit golden candle. Like sparklers in your grasp on a summertime holiday. Like a sunbeam, long and smooth and reaching through the dark. His smile, his smile…

“...Deidara?”

“Hm? Takara-chan?” he responds, opening his eyes again.

It’s easier for her to begin doing it before he gives full permission. Gently, she lifts the hand on top of hers and flips it, mouth side up. “I’ve...always wondered…” she tries to excuse as she faces another fear.

“Hm...?”

He doesn’t stop her, curiosity glimmering over that blue iris of his. He watches the woman trace her fingertips upon his palm, at first avoiding the obvious but then like a spiral eventually coming to linger on its lips. Gentle, gentle… She knows that certain feeling when you so barely touch something against the outside of your mouth. The tingle. So sharp that it’s distracting. So nice that it soothes. A dichotomy...just like him.

Aren’t you afraid? he wants to ask. He remembers how wary she’s been since that joke, since they shook hands and in spite he slicked his spit on her. The way she pulls back if he reaches for a breadroll the same time she does. How often she holds her fists against herself if he’s standing by. Hell, it might even be the way that sometimes she falls asleep stomach down and pressed overtop her hands. It’s on her mind, and not exactly for no reason.

Little does he know, she is afraid. It’s a silly thing to fear, but everything is. That’s the point.

To be afraid is to be a part of the world. And that has to be okay. There’s no other choice. And so she can start with the small things before tackling something bigger. Deidara, at least in this, is a safe place to be.

“...It’s nice,” she mutters, having no idea how to compliment such a bizarre, wonderful thing otherwise. He hums, as he often does, but now with a distinct tinge of pride.

“Appreciate them?” he asks rhetorically. “That’s how I make my art, you know.” And she does, but there’s never a bad reason to make him gush. “A curse by technicality...but you of all people should know.”

Huh?

“Should know…” he continues softly in a way she’s never heard him be before, “That all curses can become art, un.”

A gasp escapes her lips as his finally move. Fingers with a ring curl in the spaces between hers, and the palm of one yearning soul presses into the other. A kiss. Just one. The mouth pulls back, best it can in this position, but the hold remains. She looks to him and his cheeks are tinged pink, grin as wide and lopsided as she’s ever seen while eyelids shut in embarrassment.

“Aha!” he chuckles, and there’s such a bounce to it— one he normally tries to hide.

And it’s like a daydream all of a sudden instead of a nightmare. It’s like the little girl on the playground finally got those butterflies in her stomach, like all the rest seem to do.

“Don’t think too much about it,” Deidara says, but about the curses or the kisses she doesn’t know; she abides regardless. “We got each others’ backs. Remember?”

…

An inkling of an idea how someone like him could need someone like her begins to dye her mind like fingerpaints dipped into water. She nods. “Thank you.”

His hand squeezes, the mouth closer to her again, and it’s easier to not worry with the way he bumps into her side. “Anytime.”

The way their fingers intertwine...oh. She had forgotten. His nails are so perfectly polished; hers have long been gone.

“Will you...paint my nails? Until I’m tired enough to go to sleep?”

“Darling,” he says, “I’m willing to stay with you all the way till the sun comes up.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ouh, I can live without

You but I forgot

'Cause you're so baby, you

I can live without

You but I forgot

'Cause you're so baby

You've got ways, I haven't seen on anyone

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[iolypse]

primarily english speaking qsmp members as D&D characters because I can't help but fuse both of my current fixations together

Philza — species for this one was tricky, class and subclass a little harder, but I ultimately decided on aasimar ranger (horizon walker). kept trying to pick between aasimar and air genasi, almost put air genasi because I felt like qfoolish fit aasimar better, but they can both be aasimar it's fine. by the time I finish writing this, foolish might not even be an aasimar anymore, im still thinking. regardless, qphil has always been a bit of a tactician and a bowman, hasnt he? classic traits of a ranger. from there, it felt like horizon walker was the only subclass that fit. protecting from otherworldly threats, preserving life and other planes. yeppp sounds like this paranoid motherfucker right here.

BadBoyHalo — now that's a tiefling if I've ever seen one. class is a little more complicated. I've deliberated between paladin and warlock before eventually settling on paladin, making him a tiefling paladin (ancients). I don't have to explain the tiefling part (have you seen his everything?), but the paladin part could use it. we're yet to really see qbad make any real deals with any powerful forces, so that took out the warlock part for me. I wanted to make sure he had at least a little bit of magic though (c'mon), so I immediately went to paladin, and it worked out. he's a dedicated man! he'll make a promise and he'll fuckin stick to it. I debated between devotion and ancients after that, but devotion tends to have a more lawful side, which ended with me choosing ancients. they fight the darkness because they love life, plain and simple, and you're dull if you can't see how much this dude loves life.

FitMC — alright, I'm sorry, I had to do it, but this is a human fighter (rune knight) right here. I simply couldnt see him as anything other than human, and rogue and artificer didn't fit since there's other characters that fit those classes so much better, so fighter it was. still, qfit has a lot of cool gadgets and bits and bobs, and I wanted to recognize that in this adaptation of him, so I decided to show that through the rune knight subclass. rune knight fighters can do a lot of cool shit with their runes, enhancing pretty much anything they put their mind to. probably some shit he found scrawled in the horrors of 2b2t and decided to study.

Foolish — this one was hard! the fuck is this guy? I instinctively thought aasimar, but I already made qphil an aasimar, so I played around with different types of genasi and then goliaths, even minotaurs just trying to find something that fit the semi-inhuman sorta innately magical, physically strong being vibes. I think aasimar fit best, so then it was a matter of class. hes a builder! he builds shit. that's what qfoolish does. but he is NOT a mechanic and therefore not an artificer, not musical enough to be a bard, not angry enough to be a barbarian, so what the fuck is he? took a LOT of fucking around, but eventually I remembered the college of creation exists, and I felt it fit well enough, making him an aasimar bard (creation). he draws his power from his builds— he inspires with sight, not song. it's a unique take on a bard, but I've seen some awesome chef bards, so I think this works just fine. he's an architect bard.

Slimecicle — this one was FUN. 100% that's a fucking plasmoid. he's a goopy guy! then I experimented with different bard and rogue classes, thought maybe warlock for his deal with demon rubius, and then decided i couldn't disrespect the juanaflippa song and said fuck it, he can be a bard. again in correlation with the song, I went with valor, since he's telling her great story through the lyrics, keeping her memory alive with it. I DID consider spirits, however, since he actually managed to bring juanaflippa back, however briefly. still, I felt valor fit the bill just a little better. he's a plasmoid bard (valor).

JaidenAnimations — ohhh this one took some thought. I wanted her to be fairly humanoid while still having some subtle unusual traits, and elf was considered but it felt too regal. I almost considered kenku for how she tends to repeat what other people say, but it wasn't right. thought I'd try something a little strange, and I ended up with shifter! specifically wildhunt. class was just as difficult— she wasnt going to be any primarily martial classes, so that cut out a bunch, and she's not really faithful or super devoted, so that took out paladin, warlock, and cleric, and eventually I narrowed it down to sorcerer, picking aberrant mind for their mystery and influence on others. being the only woman in an island full of gay twinks is tough, man. she's a shifter sorcerer (aberrant mind).

Wilbur — half-elf bard (eloquence). this one came pretty quick to me, actually. the bard part is more than obvious, subclass picked for the number of times qwilbur's casually convinced other people to just go with the bit. he's a man of words, and he weaves them well. he can be damn persuasive, mixing in genuine arguments with small white lies, all while playing your heart strings just right. half-elf is almost entirely vibes honestly— human was too bland, elf too spicy, so we met in the middle.

DanTDM — this dude's been gone since the very fucking beginning pretty much. I almost want to make him a rogue just for that, but man, he's the diamond minecart, alright? I grew up watching him. it'd be a disservice not to make him an artificer. from there, alchemist best suited the vibes, since he never really did much of anything machinery-related. he is a human artificer (alchemist).

[ravenbloodshot]

Scoups- Seventeen....What he's like in a relationship

- He completely embodies sunshine, happiness and joy in relationships. He definitely gives kdrama male lead energy (or at least likes to reenact romantic kdramas irl)

- He has player tendencies but not exactly one (plays games, some might find it endearing others might find it to be childish). Like, he may like the attention he gets from the opposite sex and low-key embrace it even if he's in a relationship, he just won't cheat on his partner (cheat as in sex, but some might find cheating to be connecting too much/too well with other women 🤷, which is something he does a lot)

- Scoups tends to be a bit delusional and over thinks situations while in love. Like he could think the slightest touch on the arm by a girl means she's into him (especially if he's crushing on her). But I also see that he knows better than to think too illogical in relationships and pushes away people with codependent/clingy habits, just plain toxic traits. I definitely think he likes being independent and will push independence on his partner as well (or just value those qualities in a lover).

- This Leo loves to be pampered and praised. He values equal amounts of attention/affection to be given and received in a relationship. Like, he knows his worth and how he should be loved so he wouldn't stick around if you weren't willing to love him the way he deserves.

- He likes to experience uniqueness in relationships, may actively take the lead in introducing partner to things they've never done before (he'll like if they could do the same for him). He may even write love songs centered around his partner, even showing off his love plus his talent by serenading them

- Honestly, he's a VERY loving guy in relationships. VERY passionate and devoted, VERY affectionate and doting, VERY cuddly and comforting. Just an adorable puppy that'll worship the ground his partner walks on (just as long as she reciprocates the love).

- He has some traditional views as well when it comes to relationships (good and bad). For an example: he may think his partner should never have to open a door or pull out a chair in his presence but also think its not okay for his partner to wear revealing clothes outside of his presence as well

- He loves to be called oppa and may reward his partner by munching on her a lot

- He can be quite sensitive in relationships, getting hurt easily by whatever she does/says

Sunlight by Bag Raiders is a song that fits the readings energy

[princelylove]

tysm for answering my gyro request! i'm so happy i could scream into a pillow! in fact i already did haha. you can call me 🌸 anon because i will definitely be sticking around lol. since you mentioned that he tends to use half truths and lies of omission, how would an argument with him go? especially with the type of person that will just not let go of an argument once they start.

I could just eat you, anon. I'm imagining you kicking your feet and everything. 

You may think that Gyro is not taking you seriously, but oh, he is. He just doesn’t think you’re right. He won’t necessarily say that, but I’m sure you’ve noticed that nothing changes. He doesn’t see anything wrong with this kind of mental stimulation- In fact, Gyro argued with Johnny all the time, and it didn’t have any lasting effects on their relationship. So go ahead. You can still be in love with him and be mad, that’s alright. Gyro’s not particularly insecure enough to think it’s the end of the world just because you disagree. But it puts a lot of strain on a relationship long term, yeah? That’s not good for his whole ‘trick my darling’s body into liking me before their mind does’ deal. He wants to resolve it, and doesn’t mind pretending to be sorry to coax you into at least tolerating him.

Gyro goes back and forth with you for a little while. He’s got an excuse for everything, but he makes it sound like an explanation. He hovers too much? Back where he’s from, lovers are twice as clingy. He actually thought you were going quite slow. He’s being too loud too early in the morning? His body’s mentally in Naples still, and it’s the afternoon over there! He needs to stop going through your things? He's just checking what you have so knows what not to buy.

If you won’t bend on your opinion, alright. That’s fine. Let’s just move on. Gyro pretends as if you never brought it up, and will just keep trying to better your mood. Songs, stories, jokes, Gyro will use every tool he has to get you to move on. He really admires how stubborn you can be! It’s attractive! But it’s a pain in the ass to deal with when he wants you to just shut up and let him be near you. Gyro just wants to love you- and if his love is too much, you’ll just have to learn to take it. If his excuses don’t seem to be working, he ignores all attempts to further the conversation. If that doesn’t get you to drop it, he’ll sigh at what he knows he has to do. His smile drops the fifth or sixth time you bring it up, and there isn’t an ounce of love in his tone.

“I’m not stopping that. Get used to it, or let’s compromise, or something.”