#coloring them will take a while but it will be done!

[pup-pee]

ITS THEMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[samwise1548]

Redrew a few Jon drawings that I'd done in the past in my current style. He's gone through so many changes within 4 years

------

[ID: Multiple drawings of Jonathan Sims from the Magnus Archives. Jon is a brown man with scars all over him. Each drawing gives him slightly different hairstyles and differing amounts of facial hair. And each drawing is accompanied by a faded drawing behind it for reference, as well as the date for each of those references.

The first Jon drawing, referencing one from March of 2021, has him walking along. Most of his long dark hair is tied up in a bun, while some of it hangs loose around his shoulders. Only the front portion of his hair is grey. A magical neon green eye symbol floats above him and casts him in a green light.

The middle drawing references one from November 2021. This one has more of a salt and pepper pattern to its short, wavy hair. His moustach and beard adopting thr pattern as well. Some of the hair from the left side of his head is missing, replaced with a red scar. His eyes don't glow in this version as they did in the previous one.

The drawing on its right references one from September 2022. This Jon has no facial hair and a much shorter hairstyle. His eyebrows as well are much thinner than previous iterations. But like the first one, only the front portion of his hair is turned grey, leaving the rest dark.

Going to the bottom left, and referencing an image from just a month after the previous one, this Jon only has dark hair. It's up to his ears again and his moustach makes a return as well. This version of the moustache is curlier than the others.

And finally, the last drawing takes inspiration from one from November 2023. The grey and black streaks with straight hair makes a return, this time with more light than dark color. And his moustache has straightened out as well.

Following the collage is cropped versions of each of the drawings, allowing them to viewed individually. \End ID]

[homeofthelonelywriter]

It was a great idea. Fantastic even. The moment Price announced that you’d be having a training exercise, you knew what to do. You’d been planning this for months, waiting and waiting for the right exercise to come along. And here it was. In a dark warehouse, two teams would be trying to take each other out with paintball guns. There were hallways, doors, and windows in the warehouse, all simulating real combat inside a house.

Honestly, switching the guns was almost too easy. During the briefing, you quickly excused yourself, grabbed the fake one from your room, and put it with Ghost’s stuff. He wouldn’t notice the difference as you’d made sure to order the most realistic one you could find. It even had an opening for the paintballs, not that there was any way to actually shoot them, but he’d find out too late.

So, there you were, your own gun raised as you sneaked around corners and hid behind fake furniture, waiting for the giveaway. And then it came. Close, just behind the wall to your right, you suddenly heard it. “Symphony” by Clean Bandit started playing and you could see the rainbow colors reflecting off the walls around Ghost. You immediately started giggling and rushed to see his reaction.

He just stood there, staring at his gun, before slowly lifting his head up to look at you. The glare he sent you made you squeal as you dropped your own gun and started running. Behind you, you could hear him roar your name and chase after you while you continued to laugh. Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed that you passed Soap and Gaz, who were engaged in a shoot-out. Once they noticed you, with Ghost hot on your heels and holding a glowing, singing gun, they stopped and joined in your laughter, much to Ghost’s dismay.

And to be honest, if you’d known that that little prank would end with you pressed to the ground and Ghost on top of you, his body pressed against yours, you would have done it earlier.

A/N: This one was fun. Based on this TikTok.

[starheavenly]

hiii!!! loving your locket comics!!!!!! just wanted to ask a few questions about your process, if you dont mind :D

whats your general process like?

do you do thumbnails, how do they look like?

roughly how long does it take you to complete a comic panel or page?

how detailed are your sketches? do you do multiple?

do you have any specific techniques for lineart?

do you typically use references for your comics?

generally, how much effort and focus do you put into your comics?

do you have any advice for drawing comics?

sorry for for the absolute bombardment of questions, lmao. just really enjoy your art and comics and very interested in the behind the scenes!! feel free to skip any questions (or this whole ask) well wishes and salutations!!! :D

Hello! I'm so glad you enjoy my comics, and I totally don't mind breaking down the process!

For a normal comic page, I would likely actually write a script since it's much easier to keep track of dialogue and actions. But since these are short, I just write it into my thumbnails.

Step 1: Thumbnails. Easily one of my favorite parts, since I get to throw all my ideas down. I do these comics on a 2-panel grid, so I don't have to worry about actual paneling, and it allows me to focus more on the setup of each shot. Think of it like storyboarding!

Step 2: Add cleaner thumbs if needed. I actually made 3D models of Deadlock and Ratchet's chest in Blockbench, so I often trace them to save myself some time! (It might look insane, but I promise, for me, it's not.)

Step 3: Lettering! I actually like to get the lettering out of the way right away since it can take a while. Ever since I started treating lettering as its own form of art, my skills have gotten better, but it also takes much longer.

Step 4: Clean sketch! I'm just now finding out that people think I’m doing lineart for these? I am not… these are all just clean sketches. Maybe doing the blackwork gives the illusion of lineart?

Step 5: Color! Most of these comics are in black and white to save time, but it also lets me focus on values and shot framing again. I add my glow overlay to the eyes, and boom, done!

Roughly how long does it take you to complete a comic panel or page?

It really depends on how complicated the panels are. I like to step out of my comfort zone. I know the Grimlock and Misfire one took longer because of how many panels there were and the fact that I was drawing characters I’d never drawn before, but I’d say it usually takes around 5-8 hours for a whole page.

Do you typically use references for your comics?

I'm literally the reference GOD- we all know this. But yes, I love using references and doing character studies. I have yet to do a study on LL Drift, but I have a few references of him that I’ve made.

Generally, how much effort and focus do you put into your comics?

I mean, I wouldn't say I don't put in a lot of effort? I put in enough. I don't know… there's a point in the clean sketch process where you can kind of just turn off your brain. I'm passionate about comics, but we can all agree there's a point in a drawing where you just zone out.

Do you have any advice for drawing comics?

I think being able to balance dialogue and visuals is super important. I don't know if you guys have picked up a graphic novel from Barnes & Noble recently, but if you open a page, you'll see a character sitting with the biggest bubble you've ever seen, filled with paragraphs of text. While I get it—being a novel as much as it's graphic—I personally like to visualize emotions more. If it means adding two more panels to make an interesting dialogue setup, I don't mind doing it. Another thing to remember is that not all panels need to have details or 100% effort. Sometimes you need to simplify and move on, and that's okay! Those two extra panels that are giving you a better stage setup might be the ones that need fewer details and less time. I would consider my comic page work and my 4-panel work very different. One is about paneling, setup, and visuals, while the other is very much like storyboarding. Both are skills you learn with practice and study.

[littlxpxtal]

Puppy Grin

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

I'm alone, to beginning

Just sat right here with my puppy grin

For you and your sneaking on holidays, holidays

What fun to be had

When you've got me here to hit right back

Just some Polly parroting on and on and like you want

What's up with you?

It's never been like you to be back and begging

I've been no good at acting as I should

New Years Eve

My boots clacked against the pavement as I walked to Sabrina’s house, book bag filled to the brim with everything I needed to get ready for tonight. I knock on the large front door and am greeted by Sabrina, wrapped in a robe with her makeup half done and her hair up in a towel.

We greet each other and she leads me upstairs to her room, clothes sprawled out everywhere. I trip over a pair of heels and she profusely apologizes, throwing them across the room, landing on top of a pile of purses.

“Sorry I can’t fucking figure out what I wanna wear, which is preventing me from starting my eye makeup. Can you help?” I nod my head and start picking up dresses from her bed, inspecting each one.

“Ooo what about this one?” I ask, reaching back behind her bed. It was a black sparkly mini dress that she bought online a few months ago but never wore. I remember watching her buy it off her laptop in second period.

“Oh my GOD yes!” she screams, giving me a hug. I help her shove all of her clothes into her closet and start setting up my own little station by her mirror, applying my makeup.

“So who do you think you’re gonna kiss tonight?” I finally ask as I wrap a piece of hair around the hot wand. Sabrina peaks out from the bathroom and smirks.

“Haven’t decided.” she says before spraying hairspray on her head. “I’ve been hooking up with DJ Gabe for only like a week but there’s no strings attached.”

“What about Topper?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow at her. He was the host of tonights New Years Eve outing.

“What about him?” she responds sweetly, admiring herself in the mirror.

“What do you mean what about him” I say with a laugh, finishing up with the last strand of hair that needed to be curled. I spritz some hair spray on it then run a comb through the curls to loosen them up.

“No idea what you’re talking about” she says with a grin on her face. She walks out of the room and I roll my eyes, grabbing my dress and begin to slip it on.

The description on the website I found it from was “Femme Clubwear Gold Sequin Sleeveless Halter Backless Mini Dress” I hadn’t tried it on since purchasing so I was praying it would fit fine. If it didn’t at least I knew Sabrina had plenty of extras to let me wear.

Sabrina’s hopes for the night was to go home with the DJ from my birthday party. I had no motives for the night except to get drunk.

As if she read my mind, she reentered the room with a champagne bottle and two flutes in her hand.

“God you look so good!” she exclaims. “I have to put mine on now.” she shoves the bottle and glasses into my hand and runs to her bathroom to change. I pour the glasses full and hand one out to her when she exits.

“You look perfect.” I compliment her.

“Dude I know.” she says, walking over to her mirror and taking a selfie. I giggle at her and pull out my phone. It was 9:33 and I had a text from Rafe.

What’re you wearing tonight?

Something sexy

Send me a picture

You’ll have to wait till you see it on my instagram

You’re such a tease … Give me the color at least

Gold

Wow that is sexy

What’s your plans for tonight

Slummin it with Sarah while she whines about not getting a New Years kiss with johnbee

:( Be nice to her

Only because you told me to.

Top’s throwin tonight we’re about to leave

Im jealous

You should be :p

Shut up

Make me

Dont ask for things you dont actually want

What if i do

“Who’re you texting?” she says, taking a sip of champagne trying to peak down at my phone.

“No one important.” I say, clicking my phone off.

“When are you gonna tell me whats going on between you and Rafe?”

“Dont know what you’re talking about.” I say, mimicking her response from my probing questions earlier.

“I see the way he looks at you. And the way he touches you. He doesn’t do that with anyone else. And I mean anyone.” She pours herself another full glass and tops mine off.

“We’ve known each other for a while. I grew up around them so he probably just thinks of me like a sister or something.” I say shrugging.

“You and I both know he does not treat Sarah the same way he treats you so don’t even try that.” she says, with a serious face this time.

“Why does it matter Sab?” I ask, my face getting flustered. I let the topic go earlier about her and Top, but she wasn’t letting this one go.

“You guys would be cute.” she finally says after a few seconds of silence. I roll my eyes and walk over to my bag, pulling out my heels.

“That’s not what it is.” I huff.

“HA so something IS going on!”

I decide to give in. I knew Sabrina wouldn’t tell anyone and it was getting hard to keep it a secret from her anymore.

“Fine. We slept together. A few times. But that’s it.”

“And you’re texting.”

“He’s in Bora Bora.”

“He’s on vacation .. and hes on his phone texting you.”

“Its barely a conversation, let alone an intelligent one. No substance. He’s just bored.” I say defensively, buckling the clip of my heels on and standing up.

“This is so hot.” she says with a huge smile across her face. “I can’t believe your fucking Rafe. Is he good?” she asks.

I down the flute of champagne, pouring myself another glass before answering.

“Yea it’s pretty good.” I state. I check my phone to see that Rafe hadn’t answered. I frown slightly and look back over to Sabrina.

“Ready to go?”

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

It was 11:45 and I was alone. A bottle of champagne in one hand and a joint in the other. I had stolen a few cigarettes from some random pack that was left unattended on the bar. Everyone was hammered, the music was too loud and I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I stumbled down the hill of Topper’s backyard and made my way to the pier, walking closer to the edge by the water. I sit down on the edge and light both the joint and the cig.

The bass of the music rumbled down to the deck, vibrating the water below. I checked my phone again and saw that Rafe still hadn’t texted me back. I chugged a mouthful of champagne back and opened the spotify app. I was in the mood to listen to anything else other than house music.

The first song that plays on shuffle was Ribs. I laughed and turned the volume up, taking a drag from each of the lit sticks in my hands.

“What’re you doing out here?” The voice makes me practically jump out of my skin. I hadn’t heard the footsteps due to my intoxication and music rumbling around me. I turn my head to see the dark figure walking closer. The light at the edge of the deck where I sat illuminated their face.

It was Rafe.

“What are you doing here?” I squeak out.

“Dad had some business he needed to get back to so I hitched a ride with him.”

I rose to my feet and he walked closer to me.

“How long have you been home? How long have you been here?” My heart was racing and I felt insecure, realizing at the sight he was looking at. Me, crossed and alone on new years, listening to Lorde.

“We landed around 10, I got here around 11. ’ve been lookin for you. “

“You could’ve texted me.”

“That would’ve ruined the surprise” he says with a smirk, stepping closer. He takes the bottle out of my hand and takes a swig. He then takes the joint out of my hand, taking a long drag. “Looks like I have some catching up to do.” he chuckles, and sits down next to my phone on the pier.

After a few seconds, I sit next to him, about a foot of space between us. I stare out into the water, finishing up the cig, passing it to him for the last hit it had. He takes a drag and bums it out on the deck. He passes me back the bottle and joint and cracks his knuckles. I take a few sips before breaking the silence.

“How could you leave Bora Bora a week early?”

“Didn’t want to be alone on New Years.”

“Like I am” I snort. He looks over to me. For the first time, his eyes are soft. His pupils aren’t dilated like they usually are when we’re at events like this, an effect from the white powder he snorts. I never see him sober anymore.

Hurricane by Halsey starts to play from my phone, filling the silence that had fallen between us again.

That’s exactly what he made me feel inside. Like there was a fucking storm brewing. I wanted to run and hide from the way he made me feel so I didn’t have to accept it. Like I had whiplash from his emotions. I never knew if he was going to say something nice or something mean. I never knew what mood he would be in. He was always lingering, I never knew when to expect to see him. Like tonight. He just appeared. He tore me open, left me devastated. And I liked it.

“Well now we’re here. Not alone anymore.” he finally says. A shiver runs up my spine and I hand him back the bottle. I had reached my limit for the night. The world felt like it was spinning, his surprise appearance leaving me in a haze. A dreamlike state. I wanted to pinch myself to check if this was even real or if I blacked out and this was a dream.

A countdown from the house rumbled through the air. Rafe put the bottle down and inched towards me. My breath hitched and I felt my hands start to shake. His hand reaches up to cup the side of my face and I look at him. His eyes still soft.

When the crowd chants Happy New Year, he leans in and presses his lips against mine. Its the sweetest he’s ever kissed me. My shaky hands trail up and hold his neck, pressing myself up, deeper into the kiss. When we finally break free, he keeps his face close to mine.

“Happy New Year.” he whispers. Fireworks erupt from someones house across the water, lighting his face up with color.

“Take me home.”

Rafe led the way up the hill back to the Cameron estate, holding my hand and the other holding onto my heels that I had taken off.

When we walk inside the house is quiet and dark. He grabs two glasses of water from the kitchen and we go upstairs. We turn left at the top of the stairs, instead of my usual right to Sarah’s room. I held my breath when walking in, it felt odd going into his room. I haven’t been inside of it since I was like 11.

It looked vaguely familiar from all those years ago, posters of his favorite artists and cars he liked, his desk with random papers piled on it. His closet door was closed, a few jackets hung from the back of the door. His floor was clean, which was a nice surprise from a teenage boy. His sheets were black and had a white knitted throw blanket on top.

He sat on the edge of the bed and reached his arms out, pulling me onto his lap, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear.

“This dress is breathtaking.” he whispers. His hand trails from my cheek, fingers hovering over my bottom lip. I stay as still as possible, keeping eye contact with him. His thumb holds my chin, pulling my face closer to his.

“What do you want pretty girl?” he says, his breath lingers over my mouth and I hesitate for a second to answer.

“I want you.” I finally say, releasing the breath I had been holding. He presses his mouth against mine, I part mine open, letting his tongue circle around inside. I begin to unbutton his top, and unbuckle his pants. When they fall to the floor, I go down with them, on my knees in front of Rafe. He visibly gulps and I begin to palm his length on the outside of his boxers. They were Calvin Klein this time. I start to pepper kisses along his happy trail, teasing the band of his boxers, I can feel his abs flex, and he runs his fingers through my hair.

I finally pull his boxers off, his cock slapping up against his abdomen.

“Hold my hair for me?” I ask, battling my lashes up at him. He nods his head feverishly, swiping it all up into his grip in one go. I spit on the top of his tip and hear his breathing get ragged.

Taking him in slowly, I wrap my lips around his tip, letting my spit drop down his shaft, using my hand to spread the saliva around. I swirl my tongue around his tip and look up at him, his eyes are squeezed shut.

I push myself down his length, trying to my hardest to make it down to his base without gagging. He bucks up into my mouth, making his tip hit the back of my throat. Tears brim my eyes and I feel drool dripping from the corners of my mouth. His eyes are still squeezed tight, his chest glistening against the warm light shining from the corner of the room.

Rafe’s hand pulls my hair up and he pushes back down, bobbing my head on his cock. I let him take over completely, and his hips start to thrust up into my mouth, his bottom lip tight between his teeth, he grunts loudly with each thrust.

“Fuck ‘M gonna cum.” he whsipers, a soft whine coming from his mouth as hes unable to keep his composure before filling my mouth with his cum, shooting straight down the back of my throat.

I swallow everything he released into my mouth, wiping the outside corners with the back of my hand. Rafe releases his grip on my hair and I sit up on my knees, batting my eyelashes up at him for my next direction.

“I’m sorry I might be out of commission for tonight.” he says sheepishly, pulling his boxers back on and scratching the back of his head.

“It’s alright. I owed you anyways.” I respond before standing up and walking around to pick up my shoes. From the corner of my eye I see Rafe frown, and rub his hands on his face.

“You headin out already?” he finally says after a few seconds of silence. I nod and walk back over to the bed, sitting on the edge next to him, attempting to put my shoes on.

“You know, you can stay here if you’d like. Its dangerous out there.” I chuckle at this and look up to meet his eyes. They’re soft, and he has a vulnerable look on his face, something I haven’t seen in a very long time.

“I dont know Rafe, we usually don’t do that.” I say, trying to respect the non existent boundaries of our relationship. We’ve never even talked about what this is, let alone what was allowed. He chews on his lip nervously, another few seconds of silence linger around the room.

“But I want you to stay.” I stop fumbling with my shoes when the words come out of his mouth. I internally debate on what this could mean. It was a line that seemed like it shouldn't be crossed, but looked so inviting to try.

“Can I borrow some clothes then?” I ask. He smiles and jumps off the bed, walking over to his dresser and tossing a pair of boxers and a t shirt. He walks to the ensuite bathroom, rummaging around in the cabinet and pulls out a toothbrush in its packaging.

“You can use my toothpaste. I dont got any makeup remover, but I have some face wash and lotion” he says into the room before starting to brush his own teeth. I slip off the dress I was wearing and place it onto his desk chair, placing the heels under his desk. I plug my phone into the closest outlet, and change into the clothes he provided. When Rafe steps out of the bathroom, I go in after him, using the toiletries he provided me to freshen up.

When I enter back into his bedroom, the last light that remains on is his bedside lamp. Rafe laid flat on his back, with his eyes closed. I crawl onto the bed, coming up beside him. He peaks one eye open and smiles, reaching his arms out to grab and pull me closer, pressing a kiss on my forehead.

I cuddle up against his chest, and he runs his fingers through my hair, falling deeper into sleep with each breath. I wasn’t sure what possessed Rafe to fly home early, and invite me to stay the night at his house, but it worried me that this might mean we had to have some sort of discussion about what was happening. I had no experience with a situation like this before, and Sarah’s words about Rafe and his ill intentions haunted my thoughts.

I thought about what I wanted. I wasn’t actually sure to be honest. I’ve known Rafe forever, I felt comfortable around him and he knows me well. But I also consider that he’s still just a guy with needs and maybe just wants a friends with benefits situation. Which I would be alright with, as long as if he gets to mess around with other people, so do I.

Before I could work myself up anymore about the thought of me and Rafe, soft snores escaped his mouth as he fell asleep. I clutched the side of his body tighter and kisses his cheek, whispering goodnight before resting my head on his chest and falling asleep.

Previous Chapter | Instagram AU | Next Chapter

[unfriendlies]

it was pretty obvious at this point that there must have been some sort of feelings beyond friendship that darius had for angel, especially if he believed angel would only be safe with him and nobody else. "it's okay if you talk about what happened to you, i don't want people knowing what he's done to me. you're my best friend, the way you looked at me last night," he looked away, shaking his head. "you were disgusted with how i looked. i can't begin to imagine what other people would think of me." his voice grew softer as he spoke, speaking just above a whisper by the end of his statement. there wasn't a whole lot that he remembered from last night, just little moments and angel lifting up garam's shirt to see the bruises on his torso was one of those moments. really, garam had no idea what angel might have said to darius, or even other people. and that scared him. garam didn't want to feel pitied, he didn't want to be looked down on for the choices he made. he thought he was in love, he was looking at the world through rose colored glass. the last thing he needed was for the details of his relationship to become public knowledge. with the fans he had as a popular streamer, he also had his fair share of haters and he knew that they would use this against him if they'd found out. darius barely knew him and he already holding garam's relationship against him. he found himself rolling his eyes dramatically, "i didn't mean like an actual dog. he's just big and scary like a good watch dog would be." he truly didn't mean any harm by it. garam nodded his head in agreement to the shower, knowing that the water would probably help the dull throbbing ache in his head from their night of drinking. he waited until angel had left before going into the bathroom and turning the water on. garam didn't particularly like using other people's shower products simply because the ones he had at his place were formulated specifically for his hair texture, and he was a bit sensitive to smells but he liked angel's scent so he figured using his shower products wouldn't hurt too much. but of course, being left alone, garam got too into his head and he began to worry. was this guy right? was angel really not safe with garam or was it his own feelings for angel that forced his bias? until his ex decided to give on garam, there was no way angel was really safe. he began to panic, the only thing he could think of doing to calm himself was to sit on the floor of the shower. his arms wrapped around his legs as he hugged his knees against his chest, letting the water run over his body. he didn't realize just how long he'd been sitting there until the water had run cold. garam had gotten up, turned the water off, and quickly dried off before walking back into angel's room and into the closet. he wasn't too picky with what he chose to wear, knowing that he'd be practically swimming in anything he chose, so he went with clothes that would hide both his arms and legs. once dressed, he made his way back out to the living room. he didn't look at either men as he sat down on the couch, picking up his phone in the process to look through the dozens of unread notifications. he remained quiet as he read through some of the texts, none of them worried garam until he scrolled down to another picture. he glanced over to darius but quickly looked back to his phone just as another text was coming in. i'm going to work but i'm going to swing by your place once i'm out, i hope to see you there. he sighed heavily, at least his ex wasn't hanging around and they were safe to go back to his apartment to pick up the things he needed. "you should know i would never let anything happen to angel while he's with me." his words were almost mumbled. if he was brave enough, he would have told darius he was used to his ex's aggression, just as he'd told angel, and would easily take the man's fists if it meant angel was safe. but how could he say that without leaving way for the other's curiosity to swell? "he's my best friend, i'd leave if i thought angel was in any danger."

For some reason Garam questioning him upset Angel. He knew Garam was just upset about hearing someone talking about him. Anyone would be. Maybe it was lack of sleep but the taller man snickered and shook his head. “He doesn’t think I’m safe with anyone but him” Angel let out a deep sigh rubbing his hand over his face. Ever since the other man’s confession he had been rather over protective of Angel. Questioning his every decision which he wasn’t a fan of. But he knew Darius heart was in the right place. Longing after Garam for so long it felt nice to have someone who openly shared his feelings with him. Who cared for him as deeply as he cared for Garam. He hated being in the middle of the two. He wished they could get along. However, from the way they were both talking that wouldn’t be happening any time soon. “Listen I know what you heard didn’t sound the best. But I wasn’t talking behind your back. He asked if I was okay and what happened last night. Garam it affects me too. I need to talk to someone.” Angel frowned now crossing his own arms. His glance went to his feet as he tired to calm himself down. Snapping at each other would make a tense situation worse. At the end of the day it wasn’t either of their faults. “I’ll be sure to steer clear of talking about you specifically. It’s not my intention to make excuses but I wish you would see my side. Garam you showed up here battered and bruised. He was sitting right in the living room with me. Would you not ask if you were him? Especially after I kicked him out as soon as you got here? And I also defended you immediately.” Angel could feel himself getting worked up again. The feeling of Garam questioning him felt personal. Angel did his best to always put his best friend first. He went silent for a moment taking a step back. “He won’t come into your apartment. I’ll be sure he respects you. But respect is a two way street. Don’t call him a dog. He is only here to help.” Angel muttered glancing back at the door. Leaving Darius to his own devices for too long would only make the situation worse. “Take a shower. You can borrow whatever you want from my closet. I’m going to finish breakfast. We can all eat together and have a proper conversation. Clear the air. How does that sound?”

[tokiwarcube]

Tattoos

Just some headcanons on what the boys (+Charles!) think of tattoos -- yours, in particular!

Charles Foster Offdensen

One thing about Charles? He appreciates art. And your tattoos are art, in every sense of the word. If pressed, he’d talk about how it’s impressive that you’re willing to sit through the pain for something you find beautiful, and that he admires the uh, the dedication to taking care of it. What he doesn’t say is how he loves watching the images flex and bend to your movements, how the ink accentuates your natural features, how… attractive he really finds them.

He shows it in other ways, though. He’ll trace them with his eyes when you’re not looking… then with his thumbs when you’re lying together… then with his lips as he makes his way down your body.

He very much appreciates a good tattoo.

Nathan Explosion

Nathan goes nuts for lovers with tattoos. Any type, really — something about having the patience to be stabbed with little needles for a couple of hours and then having the willpower and diligence to take care of it afterwards is hot to him, but he also just likes the look of ink on skin. Although truth be told… he’s extremely partial to big black and white pieces.

You’ll often catch him with his hand on a favorite piece, whether it’s an appropriate time for it or not. The man likes ink, what can I say?

Honestly, he'd like to sit in with you someday if you ever end up getting more.

Pickles the Drummer

He’s got a million shitty little stick and pokes of his own, so he absolutely has an appreciation for tattoos! A good amount of them were from fun, drunk adventures with friends, and he looks upon a lot of them fondly because of it, regardless of quality. He does very, very much like yours, though. He has no clue how you’re so damn good with aftercare — Hell, that’s the main reason he hasn’t gotten anything big of his own.

Beware, he will try to sneak a sharpie doodle in somewhere while you’re sleeping someday. You have to accept that you’re gonna find a weed leaf somewhere while you’re showering, and he won’t tell you how long it’s been there for. But by his laughter… probably longer than you’d like to admit.

All that aside though, he finds your (real) tattoos very, very hot. And he’ll happily show his appreciation for them, should you be willing to flaunt them a little behind closed doors.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Skwisgaar is such a pansy when it comes to pain, although he’ll never admit it. It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him it really wasn’t that bad — he refuses to believe you. This is just one of many reasons as to why he, personally, will probably never get one himself. (Shame — he’d look fantastic with a bit of ink in his skin, but I digress.) But that’s not to say he doesn’t like them — quite the opposite, actually.

He loves the way they look on you. Art forever embedded in your skin — moving with you, adhering to the contours of your body… he finds them mesmerizing, and yes, hot. You’ll often catch him tracing the lines with his eyes when he thinks you’re not looking.

He might ask about the meanings of them every now and again, but he finds them just as gorgeous whether it’s got a beautiful tale, or if it was a cool flash piece you picked up along the way. Although don’t be fooled — 9 times out of 10, his questions are just a good in to show a little more intimate appreciation for the piece.

Toki Wartooth

He likes tattoos a lot! He thinks about getting some of his own all the time, but honestly, he gets stabbed with needles enough as is — sitting in one place for hours and getting stabbed the whole time? And having to take care of it for weeks after? He’s probably not getting anything done any time soon. But that just means he gets to pour all of that love into yours, right?

Call him cliche, but he loves to color in your tattoos. Honestly, you’re tempted to get more, just to give him more canvas space — it’s very soothing, feeling the cool ink swipe across your skin. He gets very into it too, it’s sweet. The media is forever confused on what color your tattoos actually are, and at this point, you’d hate to break the illusion.

William Murderface

If you think the “Pobody’s Nerfect” tattoo is his only one, you’d be dead wrong — he’s got a million of them littered around his body, basically wherever he can cram ‘em. He’s got a lot of $50 flashes — chosen moreso for the opportunity to get tattoo’d again as opposed to having something he actually likes, but that's not true for all of them! Like his big piece, there's a good handful that he really cherishes, even if they don't always see the light of day.

He’s got some ideas of things he really wants, he’s just had trouble actually rationalizing the cost. He’s weird with money like that. All that is to say though, he loves your tattoos, and that you guys share a love for them! He’d be more than happy to go get one done with you, too — it’d be a good excuse to finally get the ones he really wants, you know?

Although beyond all of this… your tattoos absolutely drive him up a wall beyond closed doors. He thinks they’re unbearably hot, especially the ones that flex and roll with the contours of your body a little more. Flaunt them a bit, and he’s putty in your hands.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Ateez being vulnerable with a partner

Requested? Yes! Request: ‘ateez members being vulnerable with their partner’

Hongjoong Ah, the burden of being a leader. I’m sure he feels like he has to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders sometimes. Members or management might ask how he’s doing, and he’ll probably always say, “I’m good!” But if you ask after a long day, he might finally let his overwhelm show. Be gentle, because he really just needs to vent sometimes. When he’s done venting, he’ll just want to lay in bed and let you hold him.

Seonghwa As the oldest, he’s used to taking care of everyone else’s needs. I feel he’d probably not easily accept others taking care of him though. So he might be a little resistant when you do things to make his life easier, insisting that he’s thankful but you really don’t need to do anything for him. But if you catch him on a particularly bad day, he might just fold and let you take care of something for him. Like if he comes home from a brutal practice and you put a warm meal in front of him, he might become a little emotional. Please keep insisting on doing these things so he’ll get used to it.

Yunho He’s a mood maker of the group, which is great! Except that he always has to be in a good mood or everyone suffers. So, I can picture that he might become frustrated with something and have to stifle that reaction to keep the peace. He’ll probably stifle that reaction around you as well out of habit. But when he crawls into bed late at night and you ask how his day was sweetly, he might explode. You should let him, gently rubbing his back while he lets it all out. Even if you don’t have any advice for him, the fact that you listen makes him feel lighter.

Yeosang This one might be a little unique, but I think there’s something particularly vulnerable about letting someone know that you’re upset with them. It could be something small, but those little things accumulate over time and become overwhelming. You notice that he might not be happy with little things you do - he reorganizes the dishwasher after you’ve loaded it, or he refolds his clothes that you just folding. Small stuff that he bites his tongue about to keep the peace. When you ask him to tell you about those little things so you can fix them, he hesitates. But he’ll eventually come to you and say, “Can you please do it this way next time?” He might need some reassurance that you aren’t mad that he asked, but progress is progress.

San I have a hunch that he’s probably pretty vulnerable with a partner to begin with. Where I think an issue might come in is when he feels like him being vulnerable with you all the time is a burden. He doesn’t like to come home and unload all of his stresses onto you, especially when you might have also had a hard day. You’ll have to be pretty direct that it’s okay to be vulnerable with you because he also creates a safe space for you to be vulnerable.

Mingi Sometimes, certain things are hard to say. So he often doesn’t say them. You’ll find a page or two of notebook paper with some of those little vulnerable thoughts written down. At first, you thought he left it out accidentally and you apologized for reading his private thoughts. He insisted he left it out for you, and it’s a regular habit now. It lets you know when he needs a little bit of extra love, even if he’s uncomfortable directly asking for it.

Wooyoung This man is so confident 99.9% of the time. But in those .1% times, he might turn to you and ask some crazy vulnerable questions. ‘Am I attractive?’ ‘Is this hair color bad?’ ‘Do you love me?’ ‘Why do you stay with me?’ It just might break your heart to hear it, but answer kindly. May also need some physical comfort when he’s feeling like this, so baby him for a bit until he’s back to his usual confident self.

Jongho He strikes me as someone who is not as physically affectionate as others. Not that he hates it, it’s just that he likes to show his love in other ways. But you’ll know something is up when he comes home and all but collapses on top of you. It’s so unlike him that you’ll ask if he’s okay. Will not admit that he needs the physical affection to soothe whatever he’s dealing with, but you rubbing his back and running a hand through his hair will make him forget whatever he was feeling bad about.

[unique-high]

ATEEZ REACTIONS TO THEIR S/O WITH TATTOO SLEEVES.

Requested

Author's Note: It was on my to-do list! Finally, I'm getting to your request. I hope you like it. Sorry if it isn't the best. I haven't written reactions in a while.

Sidenote: I just finished this in a rush so I could finally get your request out. Sorry, it took me a while to get to it. I hope you still enjoy your request and thank you for always requesting with me. 🥺

SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES.

YEOSANG: He would be shocked. He hadn't seen you in months due to him being on tour. So when he sees you again and sees the colorful ink sleeve on both your arms he doesn't know what to really say at first. You talked to him before about getting a tattoo. A tramp stamp. But he never imagined he would see you with sleeves. He honestly likes it though. He'll smile at you and say, “The tattoos actually add to your hotness.”

JONGHO: He's been with you before to get tattoos, like your back one and thigh one. When he comes back from tour he's speechless seeing your new set of ink on both arms, all black designs. He would admire your new ink for a good minute. “I like it.” he would say. “It looks good on you, y/n.”

YUNHO: He was happy to you again after the world tour with Ateez. Always lots of Facetiming and falling asleep on the phone with each other. So seeing you in person, and being able to hold you again felt nice after months of being apart. You wanted to surprise your boyfriend with your new sleeves, and when you finally showed him he was left saying, “Woah.” and “You're a baddie.”

WOOYOUNG: This man when he sees your sleeves for the first time, he's hyping you up like any good boyfriend would do by saying things like, “Babe, you look badass.” and “Let me take you out so I can show you and your sleeves off.”

MINGI: He'd gasp when he first saw your tattoo sleeves. Like it's not a bad gasp but more of a surprise one. He'll check them, admiring the work your tattoo artist did. He would say something like that, “Is it okay to say you're a bad bitch?” and “The sleeves really do look good on you, baby.”

SEONGHWA: When you show him your sleeves, he's very impressed, smiling and geeking out over the art on your arms. He would say something like, “I fear you ate with these, princess.” and “Damn, you make them look so good.”

SAN: His reaction to your sleeves would be, “Woah, you actually got them done?” he'd look at them closely, telling you what he liked and how the ink complimented your skin very well. He'd probably say something else like, “Okay now I'm jealous. Should I get one?”

HONGJOONG: When he first sees your tattoo sleeves he's in shock, just staring. Because damn you did look good with the tattoo sleeves. He would say something like, “I can't wait to kiss them.” and “You look good, Y/n, baby.”

[urdreamydoodles]

Bat-Villains x Reader

They realize they love you after a nightmare about you dying

Characters: Joker, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Bane, Scarecrow, Two-Face, The Riddler & The Penguin

The Joker

- The Joker had always laughed at the idea of love. It was messy, inconvenient, and far too human for someone as “elevated” as him. So, when the nightmare came—your lifeless body crumpled beneath the rubble of some grim Gotham alley—it caught him off guard. His cackles turned to hollow echoes as he screamed your name, the vibrant color of his world bleeding into dull gray.

- He jolted awake with a gasp, his face covered in a rare sheen of sweat. His usual smirk was absent as his wild eyes darted around the room, landing on your sleeping form beside him. You were alive, breathing softly, your face peaceful in slumber. The sight of you alive was a jolt to his twisted heart.

- For the first time in a long while, he didn’t laugh. He sat there, his thoughts in chaos, a war between his denial and the crushing realization that he couldn’t imagine a world without you. It scared him more than Batman ever could. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the emotions bubbling to the surface.

- “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, his voice shaking. But his hand moved on its own, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. You stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent, and he froze, a flicker of vulnerability flashing in his usually unhinged eyes.

- He stayed awake for hours, staring at you, convincing himself that this was just some fleeting weakness. But the image of your death lingered, gnawing at him, turning his denial into reluctant acceptance. “You’ve done it, haven’t you?” he whispered bitterly. “You’ve made the Clown Prince of Crime care.”

- The next morning, his usual theatrics were toned down. He stayed unusually close to you, his hand lingering on yours longer than normal. You raised an eyebrow at his behavior, and he waved it off with a manic laugh, but deep inside, he knew he’d never let you out of his sight again.

- That night, he held you a little tighter than usual, his arms wrapped around you as if to shield you from the world. “You’re mine,” he whispered into the darkness, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “And no one will take you from me. Not even death.”

Harleen Quinzel aka. Harley Quinn

- Harley’s dreams were usually chaotic, filled with explosions, bright colors, and nonsensical antics. But this one was different. It was dark, quiet, and horrifying. She saw you, broken and bleeding, calling out to her with your last breath. No amount of laughter or jokes could save you.

- She woke with a start, her heart pounding and tears streaming down her cheeks. “Puddin’?!” she gasped instinctively, but then her eyes landed on you. You were there, next to her, your chest rising and falling steadily. Relief washed over her, and she let out a shaky laugh.

- Harley wasn’t one to dwell on emotions—she usually masked them with jokes and a bubbly exterior. But this dream? It shook her to her core. She sat up, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch your face, as if reassuring herself you were real.

- “What’s goin’ on with me?” she whispered to herself. She knew the answer deep down but wasn’t ready to admit it. The thought of losing you had torn her apart in the dream, and the intensity of her feelings scared her.

- For the rest of the night, she stayed awake, her mind racing. She replayed every moment with you, every smile, every laugh, and every time you’d stood by her side. “Guess I’m hooked,” she murmured with a small, bittersweet smile.

- The next day, she was more clingy than usual, following you around and cracking even more jokes than normal. You noticed her odd behavior, but she brushed it off with a wink and a kiss on the cheek. “Just feelin’ extra lovey-dovey today, sugar!”

- That night, as you lay in her arms, she finally whispered the words she’d been too scared to say aloud. “I love ya, ya know? Like… the real kinda love, not the crazy kinda love. Well, maybe a lil’ crazy, but still real.” She kissed your forehead, her heart lighter than it had been in years.

Pamela Isley aka. Poison Ivy

- Pamela’s dreams were rarely nightmares. But this one? It was a haunting vision of you lying lifeless among her beloved plants, your blood staining the green foliage. The image was so vivid, so horrifying, that it shattered her usual composure.

- She woke with a sharp inhale, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes darted to your side of the bed, relief flooding her as she saw you curled up peacefully. The nightmare lingered, though, its dark tendrils wrapping around her thoughts.

- Ivy wasn’t one to let emotions control her. She prided herself on being logical, detached. But this dream forced her to confront the truth she’d been avoiding. She cared for you—deeply, irrevocably—and the thought of losing you was unbearable.

- She reached out, her fingers lightly tracing the curve of your cheek. Her touch was soft, almost reverent, as if she feared you might disappear if she pressed too hard. “You’ve rooted yourself in my life, haven’t you?” she whispered.

- For hours, she stayed by your side, watching you sleep, her mind racing with plans to ensure your safety. She’d protect you, no matter the cost. “No one will harm you,” she vowed quietly. “Not while I still breathe.”

- The next day, her demeanor was gentler than usual. She handed you a cup of tea, her green eyes soft as they met yours. “Drink this,” she said. “It’ll keep you healthy. And stay close to me today, alright?” Her protective side was in full bloom.

- That night, as you lay in her arms, surrounded by the soft glow of her plants, she finally let herself be vulnerable. “You’re the one thing I can’t afford to lose,” she admitted. “I’ve spent my life fighting for the earth, but you? You’ve become my world.”

Bane

- Bane’s dreams were typically filled with battles and conquests, but this one was different. He saw you, broken and defeated, your life slipping away because he hadn’t been strong enough to protect you. The sight of your lifeless form was a blow worse than any he’d taken in the ring.

- He woke with a start, his chest heaving as if he’d run a marathon. His eyes immediately sought you out, relief washing over him when he saw you safe and sound, curled up beside him. But the dream lingered, the pain and helplessness gnawing at him.

- Bane wasn’t used to feeling weak, but that nightmare had shaken him. He sat up, his massive frame tense as he stared down at you. “You are my strength,” he murmured, the words foreign on his tongue but no less true.

- For hours, he sat there, replaying the nightmare in his mind. He realized then just how much you meant to him, how deeply you’d carved yourself into his life. “I cannot lose you,” he vowed, his voice low and resolute.

- The next morning, his protective instincts were in overdrive. He insisted on accompanying you everywhere, his large hand resting possessively on your shoulder. When you questioned his sudden behavior, he simply replied, “You are important to me. That is reason enough.”

- That night, as you lay in his arms, he finally let his walls down. “I have fought many battles,” he said quietly. “But the thought of losing you? That is a battle I cannot win.” His voice was thick with emotion, his vulnerability laid bare for you to see.

- Bane’s love was fierce and unwavering, and from that moment on, he made it his mission to keep you safe. “You are my heart,” he admitted softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And I will protect you with every ounce of strength I possess.”

Jonathan Crane aka. Scarecrow

- Jonathan’s dreams were often macabre reflections of his own fears twisted into nightmarish landscapes. But this time, it wasn’t about him. The nightmare was about you—your lifeless body crumpled in a dark alley, surrounded by shadows, your voice calling his name in desperation before falling silent forever.

- He woke abruptly, his breath shallow and ragged, the echo of your scream still ringing in his ears. For a moment, he sat frozen, his hands trembling slightly. Then his eyes darted to the bed, where you lay peacefully, your chest rising and falling in soft rhythm.

- Jonathan wasn’t one to embrace vulnerability, yet this dream left him shaken. He stared at you, his mind racing with an uncomfortable realization: he cared for you far more than he’d ever allowed himself to admit. Losing you, even in a nightmare, felt like losing a part of himself.

- He leaned closer, his hand hovering over your cheek but not quite touching, as if afraid to disturb the calm you radiated. “You’re more dangerous than fear itself,” he murmured quietly, his voice tinged with a rare warmth. “Because you’ve made me weak.”

- The following day, Jonathan was quieter than usual, his sharp words softened when directed at you. He lingered in your presence, finding excuses to stay close, though he masked his concern with his usual intellectual aloofness.

- That night, as you stirred beside him, Jonathan finally let his guard down. “You don’t realize it, do you?” he whispered, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “You’ve made me care… and that terrifies me.” His fingers brushed against yours, a silent vow to keep you safe.

- From that moment on, he became even more meticulous in his plans, ensuring no one could ever harm you. Jonathan Crane, the master of fear, had found something he feared more than anything: a world without you in it.

Harvey Dent aka. Two-Face

- Harvey’s nightmares were like a coin flip—sometimes they reflected his inner turmoil, other times they felt like cruel twists of fate. This time, it was the latter. He saw you, the one person who made him feel whole, bleeding out in his arms as he screamed for help that never came.

- He jolted awake, his hands clutching the sheets tightly as he gasped for air. His scarred side twitched involuntarily, but his eyes sought you immediately. Relief washed over him as he saw you sleeping soundly beside him, completely unaware of his inner torment.

- Harvey sat up, running a hand down his face. The nightmare had been too vivid, too real. He couldn’t shake the image of your lifeless body, the way your eyes had stared at him, full of trust even as the light faded from them.

- “You’re my anchor,” he whispered, his dual voice cracking slightly. “You make me believe there’s still something good in me.” The thought of losing you wasn’t just painful; it felt like losing the last shred of humanity he had left.

- The next day, Harvey was unusually protective, his coin flipping idly between his fingers as he shadowed your every move. When you teased him about being overly cautious, he brushed it off with a half-smile. “Can’t be too careful,” he muttered, though his eyes betrayed his deeper worry.

- That night, as you curled up beside him, Harvey wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “You’re the one thing in my life that doesn’t need a coin flip,” he admitted softly. “I’ll protect you, no matter what.”

- From then on, his duality softened slightly when it came to you. Both sides of Harvey Dent—man and monster—agreed on one thing: you were worth everything. And he wouldn’t let anyone take you from him.

Edward Nygma aka. The Riddler

- Edward’s nightmares weren’t random; they were puzzles of his subconscious, riddled with hidden meanings and twisted scenarios. But this time, the riddle was cruelly simple: you were dead, taken from him in a moment of chaos he couldn’t control or predict. The answer to the nightmare was devastatingly clear—he couldn’t solve it.

- He woke in a cold sweat, his mind racing as if trying to piece together clues to prove the dream wasn’t real. When his eyes landed on you, still peacefully asleep beside him, he let out a shaky breath, relief flooding his system.

- For once, Edward was at a loss for words. The nightmare had shaken him in a way few things could. He prided himself on his intellect, his ability to plan for every contingency, yet the thought of losing you felt like an unsolvable equation.

- “You’ve become my greatest mystery,” he murmured, brushing a hand through his hair as he watched you sleep. “How did you manage to make me feel this way?” His voice was tinged with frustration, but beneath it was an undeniable warmth.

- The next day, Edward was more attentive than usual, his riddles and taunts aimed at others rather than you. He stuck close, his sharp eyes scanning for any potential threat, though he masked his concern behind his usual arrogance.

- That night, as you curled up against him, Edward allowed himself a moment of vulnerability. “You’re the only thing in my life that doesn’t need a riddle to explain,” he admitted softly, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin. “And I’ll make sure no one ever takes you from me.”

- From that point on, Edward’s plans always included you at the center, his mind working tirelessly to ensure your safety. For a man obsessed with answers, you had become the only certainty in his life.

Oswald Cobblepot aka. The Penguin

- Oswald’s nightmares were usually filled with power struggles and betrayal, but this one was personal. He saw you, his constant companion and solace, gunned down in a rival’s crossfire. The sight of your blood pooling beneath you was enough to send a chill through even his cold heart.

- He woke with a start, his usual composure shattered as he sat up, his breath heavy. His sharp eyes immediately sought you out, relief flooding him as he saw you beside him, alive and unharmed. But the nightmare had left its mark.

- Oswald prided himself on his control, yet the dream had revealed a vulnerability he couldn’t ignore. He sat in silence, his mind replaying the nightmare over and over, each iteration driving home just how much you meant to him.

- “You’re more valuable than all the riches in Gotham,” he muttered, his voice low and gruff. He reached out, his gloved hand brushing against yours, the gesture unusually tender for a man like him.

- The following day, Oswald’s protective instincts were in overdrive. He doubled your security, barking orders at his henchmen to ensure your safety. When you questioned his sudden behavior, he simply replied, “You’re too important to risk.”

- That night, as you rested your head on his shoulder, Oswald finally let his walls down. “You’ve done the impossible,” he admitted quietly. “You’ve made the Penguin care about something other than power. And I won’t let anyone take that away from me.”

- From then on, his love for you was evident in every action. For a man who thrived in Gotham’s cold, dark underworld, you were his one source of light—and he’d do whatever it took to keep you safe.

[inlovewrafe]

Drew is a busy man and he barely comes to your shows but now you are on tour for your new album so he had to come and watch you. You told him that you wanted so surprise your fans and call him on stage and he was really excited.

You were seventeen songs in when you put your hand above your eyes to start looking around in the crowd. You gasped and put your hand over your mouth as you looked at your boyfriend. “Oh my- Girls do you see that handsome looking man?” You ask them with a grin on your face as you turn back around to look at Drew. He was smirking at you. A chill made its way up your spine, a pink flushed color embracing your cheeks. You were grateful for the blush that was already on your face, that was matching your costume without making you look crazy with the color radiating on your skin.

You glanced at him, the sight of his perfectly sculpted face making you suck in a breath. “What’s your name, handsome?” A flirty tone rolling its way from your mouth.

The camera was now pointed at Dr ew making his angelic face show up on the big screen.

He points a finger to his chest and says “I’m Drew.” The fans were extatic at the sight of him and to be honest so were you. “I can’t say anything except for the fact that you drew me in!” You chuckle into the microphone. A smile tugging from the sides of his lips. “Do you know that moment when someone is so charming that your clothes are just starting to fall off?” You ask the large crowd as your long skirt fell to the floor leaving you in a baby pink miniskirt that was sparkling and matching your top. The fans cheered and you turned towards one of the girls that were around you motioning for her to give you the pink handcuffs. “I have to arrest you for being too hot” You say playfully as siren sounds started playing from the loud speakers and blue and red light were flashing.

He advanced to the stage with bodyguards surrounding him. You motioned for him to come on the stage as you gave him the pink handcuffs with a sly grin at the crowd that was cheering loudly clearly enjoying his presence. The big screen was reflecting his face that had a smirk on it while he took the puffy handcuffs and put them in his pocket with a wink.

The fans started cheering as “Juno” played from the loud speakers. You sang the lyrics and when it was time for the most awaited part you took Drew’s hand leading him to the front of the stage as you said.

“Tell me baby…Have we ever tried this one?” You placed your hand on his biceps as you got a leg over his shoulder while keeping it straight and the other supporting you to stand. His hand moved instinctively to your waist as you let go of his biceps, arching your back while letting your head and the upper half of your body fall back as you made a split while standing.

He trailed his eyes over your body and the crowd cheered louder than you’ve ever heard. A small smirk playing at his lips. The camera zoomed on his face as he licked his lips before saying “I don’t think so. We should tho.” He winked at you the room filling again with loud noises and giggles.

You put your leg down now standing properly still singing and he still kept his hands over your waist placing a small kiss on your neck. As the song was ending you gave him a quick kiss putting your hands around his neck as he reciprocated the kiss. The fans filming all the interactions between you two for the edits they were going to make later.

You mouthed a quick ‘love you’ to him as he climbed down the stairs of the stage to continue watching you perform from his original place. He returned to his spot next to his costars from ‘Outer Banks’ and they all cheered for him. Austin one of his best friends patting him on the back playfully.

The show was nearly ending you had two more songs to sing and you made quick eye contact with Drew. He was snapping photos of you and smiling. Your heart felt warm at the cute look on his face.

When you were done singing you got down from the stage to take some pictures with your fans and to give some autographs. “Sorry guys, I have to go, my boyfriend is waiting for me! Thank you so much for coming and I love you all so much.” You told them before starting your way backstage where you knew Drew was waiting for you.

When you got to your changing room you smiled at the sight of him. “Hey baby!” He smiled softly at you. “Hey!”

“You did so well! I’m so proud of you!” He said looking down at your small frame. “Thank you, baby. It means a lot to me that you were here.” You smile at him. Your heart filled with love and gratitude.

“Also…I can grant you that I must make time to attend every single one of your shows if it means that we’re going to be trying out new positions.”

He smirks playfully and you shove him back lightly. “Can’t wait to actually try them!” He looks you up and down with a lick of his lips.

authors note: Sorry if you see any spelling mistakes. English is not my first language and I am also writing this very late. Please share your thoughts and opinions in the comments. I am very nervous because this is the first time that I write something and I hope it makes sense yk.

[lavenderclownwritesanddraws]

🐍 Hair Care (Jamil X Long Hair! Reader) 🐍

Writer’s Notes

- Fluff

- I write this for fun am currently on a trip in another country. So might be a bit simple.

- Yes I am one of the people who thinks Jamil calls his S/O “habibi/habibiti”

- the reader goes by she/her pronouns so it is a bit OC? 😭

- Enjoy 😊

Jamil sighed, reclining on the couch in his dorm room. For once, there was no Kalim, no spontaneous parties, and no responsibilities weighing on his shoulders. He glanced across the room, where his S/O sat on his bed, flipping through a book with long locks spilling over her shoulders. The soft lamplight gave her hair an almost ethereal glow, though it was clear she had done little to maintain it that day.

His sharp eyes instantly picked up on the faint dryness at the ends and the slight tangles forming in the waves of her sheep-like hair. He frowned, sitting up.

“You didn’t brush it today, did you?” Jamil asked, narrowing his eyes at them.

She glanced up from her book, blinking innocently. “Brush it? I did! …Sort of.”

Jamil raised an eyebrow. “Sort of doesn’t count. You’re going to ruin your hair if you leave it like that.”

“It’s not that bad,” she protested, running a hand through their hair, only for her fingers to catch in a knot. She winced.

Jamil sighed, exasperated but already moving to grab his stash of hair care products. “Not that bad, huh? Sit up. We’re fixing this.”

“But I’m already in bed!” She whined, trying to burrow into the blankets.

Jamil crossed his arms, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “If you don’t get up, I’ll do it while you’re lying down. Trust me, it won’t be comfortable for either of us.”

With a dramatic groan, she sat up, letting her hair cascade down the shoulders. Jamil gestured for her to sit on the floor in front of him.

As she settled, Jamil began working his fingers gently through her locks, carefully detangling the knots. His hands were deft, practiced, and surprisingly gentle, the faint scent of the lotus hair oil (he got from Najma) filling the air.

“You’re such a perfectionist,” she murmured, leaning slightly into his touch despite her earlier protests.

“It’s not about perfection,” Jamil replied, focused on his work. “It’s about taking care of what’s yours. You’re lucky your hair is naturally soft, but even that has limits if you don’t take care of it.”

She hummed softly, enjoying the sensation of Jamil’s hands in her hair. After a moment of comfortable silence, she tilted her head slightly to look back at him.

“Jamil?”

“Hmm?”

“What does habibiti mean?”

Jamil froze for a split second, though his hands didn’t stop moving. His gaze flicked down to meet theirs, his expression unreadable.

“It’s… Arabic,” he said finally, his voice steady but softer than usual.

She smiled, their curiosity piqued. “And? What does it mean?”

Jamil’s fingers stilled for a moment before resuming their work, the faintest flush coloring his cheeks. “It means… something like ‘darling’ or ‘beloved.’ It’s a term of endearment.”

Her eyes widened slightly, warmth spreading across her face. “You’ve been calling me that this whole time?”

He shrugged, focusing intently on a particularly stubborn knot. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. It just… slipped out one day, and it felt right. If you don’t like it, I can stop.”

“No!” She said quickly, her softened their tone. “I mean… I like it. A lot.”

Jamil’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile, though he didn’t look up. “Good. Then I’ll keep saying it. But only when we’re alone.”

She leaned back slightly, resting her head against his knee as he continued to work on her hair, a comfortable silence settling over them once more.

“Habibiti,” he murmured after a moment, almost as if testing the word again.

She closed her eyes, a content smile on her lips. “I heard you.” And smirked “I can get used to this.”

Jamil chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “Don’t get too used to it. You’re still brushing your hair yourself tomorrow.”

[artofkhaos404]

what are your villain!todoroki headcanons 👀

Thanks for the ask, man! I got a few...

× Sometime before Shoto decides he wants to go to UA, imagine Dabi leaving an anonymous note for him, asking to meet alone, and on the note are some details listed about Shoto's abusive childhood that no one could have possibly known unless they lived in the Todoroki household. That's a mystery Shoto can't resist solving, so he meets up with him. Dabi reveals his identity as Touya Todoroki and explains to Shoto why he's doing what he's doing- to reveal the truth of Endeavor's evil deeds to the world. Dabi offers Shoto an opportunity to help in this plot, or if nothing else, a way out of his abusive household; coming to live with his brother. Maybe Shoto has to take some time to think about it, but eventually, he makes the decision secretly run away and move in with Dabi to escape Endeavor- but nothing more. However, the more time he spends hanging around the League and hearing their own horror stories, the more time he spends bonding with his brother and experiencing new things with him he was never allowed to before, Todoroki begins to realize just how much damage has been done unto him by his parents. As time goes on, he begins to see their perspective and understand their plight intimately. He grows to hate commercialized heroism in general; because if someone as terrible as Endeavor can become a hero... what could the other greats be hiding behind their masks? And how much pain could be relieved from victims of fake heroes, such as himself and Dabi, if someone were to stop these "heroes?" Wouldn't that act be heroism; true and unadulterated? Shoto then makes the decision to join his brother in the mission that Stain began before them; to tear corrupted hero society to the ground.

× I don't think Shoto would abandon his morals completely as a villain. He would consider himself more akin to an underground hero that works with villains for a common goal. Most of he and Dabi's arguments would probably revolve around this 😅

× His villain costume would be just as simple and practical as his hero costume. I imagine the same design, but in white and black rather than the dark blue.

× Even when he's old enough to get a place of his own, Shoto decides to stay in Dabi's apartment. Growing up with so many siblings, living alone sounds more lonely than it's worth to him despite his introversion. Dabi and Shoto are both quiet types who enjoy their own spaces, but they also both value the comfort of a presence being in the other room.

× I could see Shoto taking in a stray cat, maybe one who is injured or blind or missing an ear, and bringing it back to Dabi's apartment. At first, Dabi said it was a waste of time and money and that he should throw the thing out. But after seeing how much comfort the little furball brought Shoto, he stopped complaining about it.

× Dabi would train Shoto to use his left side; insisting on helping his brother get over the fear of being like their father in order for Shoto to realize his full potential.

× Shoto would have trouble getting along with the more impulsive, violent League members such as Shigaraki- Dabi would often end up playing referee (all the while chuckling at the colorful yet painfully accurate insults Shoto would throw).

× Despite this, Shoto can be just as impulsive if you trigger him on the wrong day. Instead of becoming warmer through the series, like in canon, Shoto would become colder and more heartless as time went on. He would never hurt someone for the thrill, but if he feels you need to be brought to justice or if you step to him, he'll do what he feels like.

× And if you hurt a child and he sees it or hears about it? Might as well count yourself dead. Same goes for Dabi. They may be cruel people, but they don't stand for child abuse.

× It wasn't always this way. When they were first reunited, Shoto saw Dabi do unspeakable things- even to children. But gradually, through one another's influence, Shoto became a better villain and Dabi became a better person.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for deleting a bunch of "people" from existence?

I (50something, M) have this robotic creation (physically 14, M) who we'll call M. I made him with stolen alien technology (aka, the actual aliens), but all he did was disappoint me. He would eat cookies when he didn't need to consume food, watch stupid reality TV shows, do all his tasks poorly, etc.

He even managed to escape my brand's HQ with another one of my robots, and I couldn't find him for a while until I watched him start making his own silly TV reality show. I sent him funding for a few seasons, trying (and failing) to... Get rid of him because he was so outdated, but ultimately deciding that any business was good business, because his little show got very popular– enough to bring in plenty more customers. However, all good things must come to an end, and after sending him a new assistant (who failed miserably, might I add), I decided to take matters into my own hands.

You see, the biggest reason I let M keep functioning is because he had the unique ability to generate whatever he wanted out of thin air, using the alien energy in his core. He (unknowingly at the time) created the very contestants for his reality show out of nothing as well, something I knew for quite a while. I knew the only way I could get my hands on M's power again (and to use him as bait to get more alien power) was to speed up the ending of his show. So I decided to lie to the useless assistant, who I'll call T, and convince him that the "training exercise" I had him do was to make him a better assistant was just that, a mere training exercise. T was, in reality, piloting a mech that could erase the consciousness of M's creations, which I then had to take over because T did nothing but disappoint me too.

A lot of people have been rather upset with me, but I don't see what the issue is here. M is just a robot with an emotion emulator, not a real person, and the so-called "people" he generated aren't real either. They're intelligent enough, sure, but they're not real. All I did was do a little editing on some excess code, like any good creator would. I've done nothing wrong! Innovation isn't a crime!

But I will still ask you all- aita?

EDIT: I terminated those useless color-coded robots for good reason too! One of them kept spraying juice everywhere! I didn't even add that feature! Quit asking about that!

[schluttforschlatt]

Bartender pt. 2

WC: 2.1k

Warnings: alcohol consumption

Parings: Schlatt x Reader

AN: more setup and character building, the next chapter will focus more on Schlatt

I love yall!! Hope you enjoy :)

You watched the clock across the bar while absentmindedly wiping down the counter. The little hand ticking closer to the next minute provided minimal joy, but meant another minute closer to going home.

3:47

3:48.

The bar was fairly vacant this time of day, with the sun still being out and most patrons wrapping up their day at the office. Of course there were a few early birds partaking in their choice of drink, but they were typically the one drink and done type. The kitchen got more action from this crowd than you ever did behind the bar. It was also a Thursday, another factor that limited the amount of customers wandering in. You moved to the ice machine to refill your well, deciding to wipe that down, too. Not like there was much else to do.

After returning with the bucket of ice and dumping it in, three men strolled on in. You greeted them while one broke off from the group and made his way towards the restroom.

“Welcome on in! Seat yourselves!” Your cheery voice rang. One of them turned and waved a hand as a ‘thanks’, flashing a small smile. You took note of how young they all looked, a contrast to the other occupants inside, then returned the ice bucket back to its home.

I hope one of them actually buys a drink.

You sighed, looking around for something to refill or deep clean. It was hard finding things to keep busy with on weekdays, especially afternoon weekdays. There were only so many bottles of liquor to dust or beer taps to polish before becoming tedious. You settled on rolling silverware, occasionally glancing up from the task to peek at the men.

They settled into a booth after their friend had exited the restroom, sharing a few laughs. They were discussing something about a sponsorship from what you could gather. It’s not eavesdropping if they’re talking loud enough for you to hear.

After about fifteen minutes, one of them got up and strolled over to you behind the bar. He stood there impishly and waited for you to notice. You placed the silverware to the side and turned to take his order.

“Would you like me to run a tab for you?” You asked, looking up at the man.

“Yeah, what would be great,” he smiled. Taking in his features while he recited an order, you couldn’t help but notice how soft his eyes looked. They were warm, an amber-ish brown color, with long eyelashes, reminding you of bourbon: you could get drunk on them alone.

“Alright, I just need to see-“ before you could finish your sentence, three IDs were placed on the counter. Checking over them, you nodded in approval as he picked them up, securing them in his jacket pocket.

You took in more of his face. Strong nose and wide chin, facial hair growing down his jaw. He was very attractive. And also very tall. While his face was inviting, his stature was imposing, towering almost a foot (if not more) above you. You continued to input his order into the register, feeling your face grow warm.

“You got it, boss. I’ll have those out for you in just a moment.” You grinned while moving back down the bar to start the drinks. One lager from the tap, a grasshopper, and a double whiskey neat. Easy enough. You started the lager first, pulling the tap with your right hand, while reaching to grab a whiskey with your left, pouring it into a rocks glass just below the shelf. You stopped the lager once the foam was just about perfect, keeping an eye on your pour of whiskey. Maybe that’s a little more than double. Oh well. Returning the bottle back to its home on the shelf, you then grabbed a bottle of crème de menthe and crème de cacao, holding the bottles in one hand while reaching to scoop ice into a shaker with the other. After pouring, you placed the lid on the shaker, gave it a rough few tosses, removed the lid again, and gave a hearty dose of heavy cream. Replacing the lid once more, you shook it a few more times before pouring it into a coupe class, and garnishing it with a sprig of mint.

Once the three drinks were complete, you turned around to hand them to the man that had ordered them. You looked up at his face and blushed, noticing that he was staring rather intently at your back. I hope you’re not gonna be one of those customers.

“Here ya go!” You ignored his gaze and handed the drinks forward, trying to brush off the way this interaction was making you feel. He shook his head and exchanged a quiet “thanks” before a blush would creep across his own cheeks, turning around and making his way back to the table with his friends.

Normally when a man would stare, it boiled something deep within yourself and made you cringe, uncomfortable and unnerving. However, something about this guy made you feel… nice? Maybe nice wasn’t the word. Confident? Regardless, this was just another transaction with another customer and meant nothing. He hadn’t tried to actually hit on you, and seemed rather bashful that he was caught. You turned around and hummed to the song playing over the sound system, picking back up silverware to roll.

-

A few hours had passed and patrons had come and gone. It was an early night for you, which meant being out of the establishment by 8:30. Looking up at the clock, still ticking by too slowly for your liking, it was 8:15. Fifteen more minutes.

You were thankful for the hours you got here. Weekdays you were out by nine at the latest, giving you enough time at wind down with homework before getting comfy in bed. Your boss had been kind enough to work with not only your school schedule, but your schedule at the diner as well. What a saint. She had been understanding of your situation, what with needing to work two part time jobs because the full time market with flexible scheduling wasn’t exactly flexible when it came down to your class schedule. And sure, taking only a few credits per quarter and being online helped a lot, but most places were looking for nine-to-fivers, not only-available-mornings-and-nighters. In no world would working two jobs be ideal, but this was mangable for you. This is manageable for now.

You made sure to restock your bar, take the bussing bin of used glasses back to the dish room, and prep garnishes before clocking out at 8:30 on the dot. The night bartender would always be handed over a neat station, with all tabs lined up on the POS ready to be cashed out. You’d worked a handful of twelve hour shifts to know how frustrating an unstocked bar could be when another bartender hadn’t pulled their weight or side work during their shifts to leave in any state other than perfect. You exchanged a few words with the closer before walking to the back of house and getting your bag to head out.

You pulled your hair out of the messy ponytail it was in and raked your fingers over your scalp, sighing at the feeling. On days like this, (slow afternoons with mostly older crowds) letting your hair down was the first step to winding down for the day. You stood up straight and stretched before snatching your bag from the desk to walk out for the night.

The weeknight bartender waved you over as soon as she saw you emerge, the tall man from earlier standing in front of the register.

“Everything all good?” You asked her, seeing a receipt and a few bills cash on the counter.

“Everything’s perfect! Just wanted to make sure you got your last tip before heading out.” She smiled, sliding the stack towards you. You reached out to grab at it when the tall man placed his hand over yours. There’s that damn blush again. He cleared his throat before speaking up.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier, I was just impressed watching you make our drinks. My friend said that was the best damn grasshopper he’s ever had,” a small smile tugged at his lips, almost as if he was embarrassed to be speaking with you. “Jus’ wanted to pass that on.” You returned the expression.

“Thank you, I hope y’all had an enjoyable night.” He removed his hand and nodded shyly, his friends leaving the booth and making their way over to him. Pocketing the tip, you ducked out the door not knowing how to continue the interaction while feeling a pang of guilt for not even getting his name. You shook it off as you took off towards your apartment, aching feet begging for the feeling of warm fuzzy socks and your comfy bed.

-

You hadn’t even walked through the door of your apartment when the cries of your cats became audible. Chuckling, you unlocked the door and stepped inside, kicking your boots off while greeting the starving felines.

“Mel, I know you think you’re dying when you go more than eight hours without wet food, but the lack of crunchies in your bowl says otherwise,” you joked at the cat as she rubbed up against your legs. You walked over to the couch and set your bag down, trying not to trip over her. You bent down to pick her up, scratching under her chin. “Let’s get you fed and ready for bed, yeah?” She chirped back at you in response. You carried her into the kitchen with the other two trailing behind you. You placed a kiss on her head before setting her down in her preferred food-receiving spot on the counter.

Your night would start the same way your morning would begin. Getting three ceramic bowls out of the cupboard, and opening up a fresh can of Fancy Feast for your three non-human children. Of course Mellie was first, followed by Oats, and lastly Bones. No other order would do. Washing your hands after serving dinner, you considered what to have for dinner. Pizza, Alfredo, or Fajitas. All TV Dinners, of course.

You settled on Alfredo, removing the meal from the freezer and popping it into the microwave. Your mind wandered to the topic of the essay you needed to finish, mentally mapping out which direction you wanted to present it. The microwave beeped bringing you out of your little trance, and you swiftly removed the tray and grabbed a fork, settling back down on the couch much like you had earlier in the day.

You powered on the television and thumbed through the applications presented. Thank God for Roku. Clicking on YouTube and waiting for your feed to pop up on the screen was the second step to winding down for the night. You scrolled through uploads for a few moments, blowing on the plate of Alfredo occasionally, until settling on a video about the history of Nintendo.

You ate in near silence, the tv only on at a low volume. Throughout the meal, you tried to brainstorm ideas for your essay. You weren’t too happy with the current direction it was going, but knew it was too late in the quarter to switch topics or start over. You sighed, swapping the now clean plate for your laptop on the coffee table, and began to furiously type away.

You weren’t sure how long you were staring at the document in front of you, but it felt like you should have had more written than you did. You only managed to get through a few paragraphs before abandoning ship. The cats had all settled down around the living room, which inspired you to do the same. You saved the document before closing your laptop and returning it to the table once again. You stood up to stretch, snatching the discarded plate to place in the kitchen sink before retiring to your bedroom.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty, determined to have made a sizable dent in the essay, only to neglect the task at hand to daydream. Sure, you often got distracted doing homework or projects, who doesn’t, but the source of your diversion tonight made you feel slightly embarrassed.

You couldn’t stop thinking about the man at the bar. About his gentle brown eyes, his soft-looking chestnut hair. Even his facial hair, a bit scraggly but somehow endearing. See? Embarrassing. He made you feel like a schoolgirl, butterflies fluttering around inside your chest. He had said maybe a total of five sentences to you and you wanted to lay down on your stomach and kick your feet in the air. After changing into pajamas and climbing under the covers, you let your mind run free, trying to recall every detail about him.

You remembered his name started with the letter J, having only glanced to verify his age when he handed you his ID. Was it Jason? James? Jared? You couldn’t recall, but hey, at least you knew it started with a J. Against better judgement, you unlocked your phone and opened up Tinder, deciding to swipe and see if just maybe this guy would magically show up. Maybe he was local and was just out for some cheap drinks with friends from out of town. Maybe he’s only in town for some family thing, linking up with buddies from college. The possibilities were endless, much like the men you continued to swipe past. Your eyes began to feel heavy, the grip on your phone weakening. The search can continue tomorrow. You plugged your phone in to charge, quickly checking to see that your alarms for the morning were set, before locking the screen and drifting off to sleep.

[exorcist-canine]

They didn’t know much about graffiti. It wasn’t something heaven was known for, but they’d seen a lot of it in hell. Usually it was vulgar garbage, but this was…

“I like it. It’s like a tribute.”

They got closer, each footfall echoing in the empty station. They got close enough to touch and reached out a hand, stopping just short of touching the wet paint.

Part of them wanted to take a can and make their own, but Ava had done a surprisingly good job for a first attempt and they were afraid they’d fall short. Instead, they turned back to Ava with a smile too soft for them in place.

“I hope they keep it. This place could use a little color.”

They wrap an arm over her shoulder, impressed by what she threw onto the wall in such short amount of time.

“Let’s get out of here, I’ve got another place I want to show you.”

It was still dark, they should’ve already fucked by now, she should be alone in her bunk while they laid in their own. This shouldn’t be happening.

Instead, they were in a tall oak tree with spindly branches that hung over a lake. The water was still and the moon reflected across it and into Ava’s eyes and- had they ever seen something more beautiful? Was this the heaven they were meant to protect?

There was a part of them that knew at some point she would leave. She would change, she would move on. There was a chance it was only for tonight. But if that were to be it… if tonight was the only time they had with her… then they would make the most of it.

“What do you enjoy?”

That was too vague.

“Do you have hobbies? Or anything like that? I know training takes up a lot of time but is there things you do outside of training that bring you joy? You seemed to like art before.”

That was too much.

They internally groaned at their sudden inadequacy.

There was a short wall just outside of the barracks that surrounded a little garden. Nothing too fancy, but it was easy to find and it was pretty enough. Canine sat, leaning back with their hands on the bricks, one foot on top of their thigh while the other tapped against the ground lightly. The sky was dark but that never bothered them before. If anything, it would actually come in handy for what they were about to do.

As the door opened, they flashed a smirk from their perch. This was the first time they had seen Ava from this angle. Still hot.

“Took you long enough.” The words were tempered by the playful look in their eyes.

I tried my best.

Ava gave a small chuckle trying to hide her mounting anxiety. She had spent nearly an hour trying to get herself ready - makeup, tight clothes, all the works. Time to see if it would pay off.

How do…how do I look? -🥛