#does he look good. what is he even dressed up for. hes enjoying it sorta in truth but idk if hed admit that

[tachyon-omlette]

Hmmm, this is too much power my friend. XD

📦, 💤, 👗 or 🏨?

wait. wait whyd i put so much effort into this. wait wai

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Eight: We'll Dance in the Street like Nobody's Watching

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, unprotected p in v, flirting, dads being dads. Two idiots falling in love and finally fucking admitting it. Joel is his own warning. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

This chapter includes the scene that sparked the entire story idea. I've been patiently waiting for it to see the light of day. hope you enjoy!

Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Chapter Seven | Main Masterlist

“So, how was it?” Grilling you for the past twenty minutes, Emily was relentless in her pursuit to find out just how good Joel was in bed, after congratulating you on the new job, of course. “Come on! I need to know!”

“Alright, alright! I had no idea you were such a needy bitch. Is your hubby not dicking you down enough or what?” you laughed before regaling her with tales of Joel’s prowess.

“I fuckin’ knew he’d be big and know how to use it! He just gives off that BDE, ya know what I mean? Just how big are we talkin’, anyway?”

Rolling your eyes, you laughed again. “Well, I didn’t fucking measure it, but it’s a definite handful. Besides, you’ve never even met him, Em! How could you possibly get that vibe?”

“I’ve seen photos and heard stories, that’s more than enough to pick up on that sorta thing,” Emily replied with the confidence of someone who damn well knows what she’s talking about. “I need to know more. Gimme all the details!”

“Yeah, yeah. Speaking of BDE, I gotta finish getting ready. Joel said he had something special planned for tonight to celebrate me getting the teaching job.”

“I bet he does. You’re gonna get another deep dicking from that huge—”

“Bye Em!” you cut her off and hit end call before she could carry on anymore.

Tossing the phone on your bed, you finished putting a light layer of makeup on, putting in a little more effort to look good tonight. Ten minutes later, dressed in a pair of dark, fitted jeans and a dark blue, long-sleeve, vee neck shirt that showed just a touch of cleavage, you wandered out to the living room.

“Alright Dad, I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Leaning over the back of his recliner, you press a kiss to his balding head.

“Have fun on your date and be careful, Spud. Call me if you need a ride home or anything,” he replied, patting your hand. You turned to leave, grabbing a light jacket from the hook by the door just in case, when your dad’s voice carried from the living room. “It’s funny, Joel told me he has a date tonight, too.”

Freezing for a moment, you squeak, “Oh, yeah?”

“Uh huh. Quite a coincidence me thinks.” He paused again, but you were at a loss for words and grateful that he couldn’t see your expression. “Enjoy your night, kiddo.”

Knowing a dismissal when you heard one, you take off through the door. Your mind raced on the short drive to Joel’s. He knows. Your dad so knows. You start to panic for a moment wondering if he’s upset before the realization hits that he didn’t seem remotely mad about it. More like he got a kick out of the idea and enjoyed teasing you. You and Joel had to fess up very soon, but that was a tomorrow problem. Tonight was meant to be all about you and Joel.

Walking through the front door, you expected to find Joel in the living room or kitchen, but the downstairs was empty. Lugging your overnight bag up the stairs, you thought maybe he’d be in his room or the bathroom still getting ready, but again, no sign of him. Where the hell was he?

Making your way down the stairs, you peeked out the window to make sure you didn’t imagine his truck in the driveway when you parked – it was there, right next to your car. He had to be around here somewhere. The sound of soft music hit your ears suddenly. Following the sound, you slipped out the back door and gasped.

A soft glow spread across the yard from lights strung from tree to tree, a plaid tablecloth covered the patio table on which sat a vase of brightly colored tulips, an open bottle of pinot noir, two stemless wine glasses, and two covered plates. Just beyond the patio, a hammock hung between two large live oaks with another set of string lights dangling above it. As your eyes took it all in, Joel stood off to the side watching you with a warm smile.

“Joel,” you whispered, afraid to disturb the dream-like quality of the moment, his name a drawn-out breath in the air when you finally turned to him. His dark eyes glinted from the string lights as he stepped forward out of the shadows, one hand stretched out towards you. There was no hesitation in reaching for him and you clung to each other for a few minutes before he stepped back to pull out a chair for you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, settling into the seat. When Joel took his place across the table from you, you added, “This is so lovely, Joel.”

A bashful smile graced his lips as he removed the covers from the plates and filled the wine glasses. Your gaze soaked in every little movement he made, in awe of the gorgeous man before you and all he’d done to make this evening special. Holding his glass up, he toasted to you. “Here’s to your new job and the start of a very rewarding career. Congrats darlin’.”

Clinking your glass against his lightly, you beamed at him. He looked so handsome, thick curls pushed back away from his face, tanned skin glowing in the soft lighting. “Thank you, Joel.” Already buzzing from the way he made you feel, you sipped lightly at the wine before digging into the meal before you.

Bursts of flavor hit your palette at the first bite, the chicken cooked to perfection and the sun-dried tomatoes adding just the right tang to the red pesto coating the rigatoni. A soft moan escaped before you caught it, cheeks heating up with the way Joel looked at you with hooded eyes.

“I reckon you like it?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his gravelly voice.

“This may be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted, Joel. Did you make this?” You took another bite, savoring the flavors that exploded in your mouth.

“Mmhmm. It’s my mama’s recipe, she made it a lot when we were younger, and it’s always been my favorite. I’m glad you like it.” He watched you enjoy another forkful, obviously proud.

“I don’t just like it, Joel. This is fuckin’ delicious. I didn’t know you could cook like this!”

His cheeks turned pink as he cleared his throat. “I can’t, usually. I practiced a lot with this one.” That melted your heart further.

You ate your fill, making small conversation between bites, until your wine glass was empty, and your belly satisfied. Joel poured you another glass, which you sipped leisurely as he cleared the table and placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher for later. He wouldn’t let you lift a finger.

“Dance with me?” he said upon his return outside, voice deep and gravelly as he plucked the glass from your hand and placed it on the table.

“I’d love to,” you replied softly, lips tilted upwards in a sweet smile. Holding his left hand out, Joel helped you to your feet and let you off the patio.

A new song began, volume a little louder now, and you stepped closer to him. A warm buzz spread through your veins when Joel pulled you against his broad chest, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other bent to hold your hand over his heart. You could feel the thump of his heartbeat beneath the green flannel he wore as he swayed you slowly around the grassy yard, careful to not stray too close to the pool.

Nothing ever felt as right as being there in Joel’s arms, dancing in the yard like the world beyond the fence didn’t exist. Your feelings for this man were overwhelming, growing deeper each and every day – hell, each and every second was more like it – and that four-letter word bubbled in your throat. You swallowed it down, settling your head against Joel’s shoulder, eyes closed and focused on the moment.

Joel’s chin tilted downward, nudging against the side of your face, his lips near your ear, and his breath sent delightful chills down your spine when he began to sing softly.

“Fall into me and I’ll catch you, darlin’. We’ll dance in the street like nobody’s watching. It’s just you and me and the song on repeat in my head, playing over and over…”

My god, how could you not fall in love with this incredible man?

The intimacy of it all brought tears to your eyes as your fingers threaded through the hair at the back of his head. Stomach alight with the flutter of too many butterflies, the urge to speak from your heart became too much, you could hold back no longer.

“I love you, Joel.”

You loved him.

What did he ever do to deserve something like that?

Heart clenching deep in his chest, Joel guided you to the hammock, music still carrying softly through the air. With amazing finesse, he settled you both on the hanging fabric, bodies snuggled together until you nearly became one.

He ached to say the words back to you, but they kept getting stuck in his throat. Instead, he settled for showing you how he felt, just like he did with dancing and singing in your ear – he could have written that song for how relatable it was to the feelings you brought out in him. Dark eyes stared into yours as his hands moved over your body, pulling you impossibly closer.

I love you, his lips said as they pressed heatedly against yours.

I love you, his tongue said as it licked softly into your mouth to tangle delicously with yours.

I love you, his hands said as they touched you with utter reverence.

I love you, his body said as he pressed it tightly against yours, trying in vain to crawl beneath your skin.

Joel kissed you with singular focus until you were both breathless and overwrought with need.

“Take me to bed, Joel,” you whispered when he finally tore his lips from yours. “I need to feel every bit of you.”

Your angelic voice music to his ears, he scrambled from the hammock, scooping you up in his muscled arms to carry you inside and up to his bedroom. His mind occupied by one thing and one thing only – making love to you until you knew every part of him and he knew every part of you – the string lights and last bit of wine were left forgotten in the yard.

Loving the way you clung to him, Joel swept through the house and up the stairs with an urgency he’d not felt before.

His lips moved to brush down your neck, nipping at the tender skin as he went. Once in his room, he closed the door even though you were the only two there. Joel kissed each new patch of skin bared as he removed your clothes until you were completely naked. Easing you back onto his unmade bed, a low growl rumbled from deep in his chest when your fingers slid along his scalp and tugged on his hair. Fucking lord did he love how you touched him.

“Fuck, I need to taste you, pretty girl.”

He’d never seen anyone or anything more beautiful in his life as your naked body writhed on his bed, eager and yearning for his touch, and Joel knelt to worship at the altar of you.

Starting at your delicate feet, Joel’s fingertips traced every inch of you until he reached the apex of your thighs. Leaning forward, he let the scruff of his facial hair tickle along the flesh of your inner thighs, pressing open-mouth kisses along the soft skin as he went. Grinning as you trembled, he met your wide gaze as he leant forward, tongue exploring your folds.

The first taste of you set his soul on fire. Sweet like honey yet more addicting and thrice as satisfying, Joel licked at your clit, tongue occasionally dipping down into you, slurping greedily at the very essence of you.

He couldn’t have thought of a more delicious dessert.

His movements elicited sensuous moans that shot straight to his cock, his jeans quickly becoming too tight and uncomfortable. Seeking a little relief, his hips began grinding against the mattress as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, fingers soon assisting his tongue in driving you mad. Just when he thought he might blow his load in his jeans, again, you came, crying his name out, the syllables drawing out in a beautiful, lyrical drawl. Working you through it, Joel drank down every bit of your release like a thirsty man in the desert.

“Fuck, darlin’. You taste fuckin’ delicious. I could live here, between your legs, for the rest of my life, surviving on just you.” Joel stood as he spoke, gazing down at your blissed out form on his bed as he tore off his clothes, one large hand palming his cock before he practically dove into bed with you.

“You’re too good at that, Joel Miller,” you said, the words falling lazily from your lips as you recovered from the singularly intense orgasm. Swooping down, Joel kissed you passionately, offering you a taste of yourself lingering on his tongue.

Letting his body continue to do the communicating for him, Joel shifted his hips, grinding gently against you while his mouth devoured yours. Groaning as your nails scratched down his back, he reached a hand down to guide his cock toward its home in your pussy. Dark eyes opened wide, Joel watched your face as he entered you, delighting in the scrunch of your nose and the way your eyes squeezed shut before popping open again at the sensation of him splitting you open.

With long, slow, oh so deep, strokes, Joel made love to you, telegraphing the depth of his feelings in the only way he knew how, until you were writhing in pleasure beneath him. Afterwards, he cleaned the mess between your thighs and held you close until you fell asleep with your head resting on his chest. Only then, did he finally whisper the words he longed to say all night. “I love you, too.”

Joel stayed awake for a while, listening to your gentle snores and the soft sighs you made in your sleep. He loved that you let your guard down with him, that he was the man who got to hold you while you slept. In the darkness of night, Joel made himself a promise that he would not fuck this up before falling into a deep sleep of his own.

His dreams were particularly vivid, the sensation of your mouth around his cock so strong he’d swear it was real. He’d never experienced your mouth around him like that before, though, so it couldn’t be real. Joel let his dream-self enjoy every moment, your lips around his shaft and tongue teasing the throbbing vein along the underside of his cock a divinity he’d never known before. At one point you took him so deep that a loud, guttural moan escaped his lips, hands clenching in your hair.

Eyes popping open, the moan carried on, rumbling from deep within Joel’s chest as he glanced down to find you feasting on his hardened length. It wasn’t a dream after all.

“Fuuuccckkk,” his voice, still rough with sleep, drew out the word as he watched you go down on him. Your mouth a form of heaven he suffered too long without, the cheeky, mischievous look in your eye making the pleasure more intense. You clearly enjoyed the act nearly as much as he did.

It didn’t take long before your wanton rhythm and sinful mouth had him coming down your throat, your name a prayer recited over and over in that gravelly voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, darlin’. Where’d you learn to suck cock like that, hmm? Your mouth is like God damn heaven.”

Joel’s chest heaved as you gulped down every drop of his spend, tongue darting out to lick the last bit from the little slit on his cockhead before sliding over your lips. You visibly swallowed, savoring the taste of him; his eyes glued to your mouth the whole time. His hand came up, caressing your face with the love he couldn’t yet voice shining brightly in his eyes, and his thumb traced along your plump bottom lip.

“My little gummy worm,” he murmured, delirious from coming so hard. “Felt so good wrapped around my fat cock.”

Crawling up his body, you settled your weight atop him and pressed your lips to his, letting him taste a hint of himself on your tongue as licked into his mouth, returning the favor from the night before. The kiss was languid and sloppy, perfect for a lazy morning waking up together.

“You tasted good, all salty and musky,” you said once you broke away, voice raspy from having his dick halfway down your throat.

“You can wake me up like that any time you’d like, darlin’.”

The two of you cuddled for a while, neither of you too eager to start the day knowing you didn’t have anything pressing to do. Those unspoken words bubbled in Joel’s chest the whole time, begging to come to the surface, to be spoken aloud and given credence. Still, he hesitated without quite knowing why. Finally rolling out of bed around 10, you jumped into the shower while Joel threw on some clothes and ran out to grab some breakfast.

He just pulled back into his driveway, a bag with a few bagel breakfast sandwiches in one hand – he got an extra in case you wanted pork roll instead of bacon – a coffee and orange juice clutched in the other, when JB’s truck pulled up in front of his house.

Settled on the couch after your refreshing shower, legs tucked under you while scrolling through your phone, you heard Joel’s truck pull up. Waiting for him to come in with breakfast for you both, you were caught off guard by the deep voices rumbling in the front yard. You sat up, peeking through the blinds to find your dad out front, hands on his hips as he spoke to Joel.

Oh shit.

You couldn’t discern their facial expressions from that angle and moved to the front door, quietly easing the heavy wood open to peek out and eavesdrop. They had to be talking about you, right? There was no hiding or pretending you weren’t here, especially with your car parked in the driveway right next to Joel’s. After your dad’s comments last night, you wondered if he planned this ambush then.

“I knew she’d be here,” you heard your dad say, but you couldn’t read his body language clearly. His hands were on his hips still, but there was a smile on his face. “You sweet on my baby girl, Joel?”

You couldn’t hear Joel’s response, his gravelly voice pitched too low for your ears to catch across the distance, but you could see him smile hesitantly even as his broad shoulders hunched slightly. Whatever it was caused your dad to chuckle and punch Joel playfully.

“I knew it!” your dad exclaimed, the sudden loudness startling you. “I knew you two would hit it off, I just wasn’t sure how long it’d take.”

You caught Joel’s response this time, his surprised voice pitching upwards. “You’re not upset?”

Walking toward the house without invitation, your dad paused. “Why the hell would I be upset? You’re a good man, Joel, and I know you’ll treat her well. And she’ll be good for you, too, I have no doubt. Now, you got enough in that there bag for breakfast for three?”

Your shoulders sagged with relief as you eased the door open. “I thought I heard voices! Hi Dad,” you greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Spud. I could ask you the same thing, but I knew I’d find you here.” Pulling you in for a hug, he ushered you inside. “I got tired of waiting for you two to come clean and thought I’d put you both on the spot.”

Eyebrows shooting up, you glanced at Joel before meeting your dad’s gaze again. “How did you know?”

Giving you a shrug, he said, “You two weren’t exactly subtle and a father always knows.” Nudging your shoulder, JB turned to Joel. “You’ll find that out soon enough, my friend. I can’t wait for the trouble that Sarah will give you.”

The three of you sat at the small dining table, digging into the breakfast sandwiches, your dad insisting you tell him how long you and Joel had been seeing each other and how it all started. Relieved to finally have the truth out there, you told him the story and JB chuckled.

“That about tracks. That’s right around when I started to notice something different between the two of you. And it sure explains why you hardly gave Annica the time of day on your date.” JB gave Joel grief about that failed date for weeks knowing that there was something – or someone – else drawing the man’s attention. JB had the feeling back then that it was you, his baby girl, his grown-up Spud, who captured the single father’s attention.

“You sure you’re okay with this, Dad? I mean…” your words fell off, not really knowing what to say. You’d be heartbroken if your dad wasn’t okay with a relationship between you and Joel, especially now that you verbally admitted to being in love with him.

“Are you kidding? I’m happy as a pig in shit that the two people I care about most like each other.” Your dad was all smiles, beady eyes sparkling with mischief. “In fact, I was planning on setting the two of you up if you didn’t figure things out for yourselves first. Tommy was in on the plan, too, and was the one who suggested we give it a little time. Little shit never told me it became official, though.”

Sitting back in your seat, you giggled with relief. All that time spent fretting over what your dad might think, feeling guilty for dating his best friend and hiding it from him for so long. It was all for naught. You should have known he’d love the idea of you two together.

“So, when’s the wedding?” JB asked, a shit-eating grin spread across his lips as you and Joel froze, eyes darting to each other in wide-eyed panic. Your dad practically guffawed at his own humor while you two were practically having a panic attack. “I’m just kidding – there’s no rush. Just make sure you treat her right, Joel.”

Recovering from the initial panic – not that he didn’t want to marry you, eventually, just not quite this soon – Joel laughed a little nervously. “Of course, JB. I’ll always treat her right. I, uh… I love her.” His gaze shifted to you, heart showing firmly in those dark chocolate orbs. “I love you, darlin'.”

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx

@pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr

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@marirxse @lizzie-cakes @tynakub

[tubbypeddle]

Abbacchio/Risotto with a black metal s/o that dresses casually most of the time, but s/o once does a full corpse paint and scare their bf.

Have a good day/night

ABSOLUTELY!!! as someone who's a goth irl but never really does the whole getup, this was so fun to imagine!!! also, I apologize for the wait, I got this ask when I was at my friend's grad party

Abbacchio and Risotto x black metal!reader

(author's note: I'm not exactly black metal, so this did take a bit of quick research, so I apologize for any inaccuracies 😓 and I'm also sorry for the late response, been a little busy recently)

Leone Abbacchio

Since he's kinda goth punkish himself, he's no stranger to the alt lifestyle. He appreciates your fashion, your subtly dark makeup. He's never understood why partners enjoy matching outfits until he met you, because most of the time, both of your outfits end up being similar. Mostly by coincidence too.

He's never been particularly religious, and he doesn't really like your music genre, but he appreciates the lyrics and what they mean to you.

When you just show up to Libeccio's one day fully decked out in corpse paint, he damn near drops the teapot and spews tea out of his nose. He's never seen you fully dressed up in you black metal getup before, it was a little startling at first.

You explain to him that you're going to a concert with your friends, an Emperor concert.

Honestly, he's surprised to find how hot he finds you with your corpse paint makeup. The most he's seen you in was dramatic eyeliner and dark lipstick. The whole face was...startlingly beautiful.

He'll even ask you to do corpse paint on his face when you get back from your concert. You've opened up a whole new world for him

Risotto Nero

Risotto, I can see him being sorta black metal himself, with like a mix of punk. So he's into your whole getup. He'll even lend you his clothes if you want to try some of his.

The two of you will often just headbang to black metal music together too, just as a home date.

He runs into you in your all-out corpse paint on accident, really. You're in the middle of applying it in your bedroom, and he has a bad habit of forgetting to knock before he enters your room.

He almost doesn't recognize you entirely with your face painted like that. But he can't say he doesn't like it. It's an incredibly attractive look on you, and he almost wants to hide you away in his own room and just smudge your makeup in his own way.

All in all, he's a rather big fan of your corpse paint. Really big fan.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Hi I love your posts so much I was wondering if you could write headcanons about Bill x female reader that is like his total opposite? Like she's in her own band but ist like more of a 2000s rap/hiphop Band. And she's very masculine and stuff. And she looks all tough and stuff but turns out she has a weakness for emo boys(not in a wierd way) and just keeps staring at bill with heart eyes😭. Hope you have a nice day or night.

(Hey! Sure I can, I'm so happy you enjoy my writing! Have a nice day and enjoy!)

Bill Kaulitz x Opposite!Reader

He sometimes finds it so funny how you guys ended up together

You guys don't look like the typical couples in photos

But look closer and you see the hand holding, smiles, kisses and touches

He loves going to your concerts and seeing you on stage

No matter what you play or sing he loves it

If you can rap, he's a bit impressed

Especially since your in a hip-hop sorta band, he'd be actually pretty impressed if you could dance hip-hop

Loves watching you perform

He was sorta shocked when he saw your hip-hop and rapping for the first time

But he was a very, very proud boyfriend

Is always talking about you in interviews

But just stuff on the surface as he likes to be more private

He is your biggest supporter

As long as you support him

He is always waiting for you backstage

He likes your style even if it isn't his personal style

He would like to match you to his style or even him to your styles at time if you want

He likes matching a bit too much

He doesn't mind you looking or dressing masculine

He just views it as the way he is more in touch with his feminine side

He doesn't mind

He admires you a bit on how you don't care what people think just like he does

You guys make a good couple that way

You're very tough, it is something he noticed from the get go

If you're ever comfortable enough to be vulnerable around him, he feels very happy you are

He prides himself in that

Will always make sure you're okay and comfortable no matter what

But when he first met you he sorta thought you looked a bit…mean?

Y'know when you meet someone and think they're a huge bitch until you get to know them and they turn into your best friend?

That's how you and Bill came too but instead of best friend it's dating

You looked a bit intimidating at first until he got to know you

This continued on in the early stages of your relationship

Until you expressed how you liked his style and have the tiniest thing for emos

He got so blushy and legit couldn't control a laugh

Not in a bad way, he's laughing at himself

Especially when he noticed your stares at him

He can't help but try and hide because he sees how you look at him

Gets a bit shy just will joke around with you like that

He looks at you the exact same way don't worry

It's a very mutual but opposite and perfect relationship

[chickenkupo]

Just My Luck

Just My Luck

Summary: The lands are ruled by ruthless gods of various levels of power. Humanity is only a means to an end for their endless desires, if they happen to gain their attention. Many lay low, do what they can to appease the gods and try to live their lives out, as best they can, given the circumstances. Wriothesley is one such mortal. Having committed a great crime as a young boy, he’s constantly fleeing from his past. Little did he know; however, his constant misfortunes lead to his destiny, and it is most certainly not what he was expecting.

Recommendations: None, this is a purely AU work, so you’re good to go, reader.

Warnings: 18+ content, ya’ll. We’re going to get a little spicy here. Not my usual sort of Wriolette content. Neuv is going to be a little dark and demanding in this one, so if that sort of content (I’d guess you’d say it’s very close to yandere), then this isn’t for you. Religious hints/themes are also present in this. Consent really doesn’t exist here. I have been thinking of this sort of god x human trope for a while now, and I just needed to get it out of my brain. So, I guess this is a little self-indulgent work that I hope others out there will appreciate as well? Also, it’s putting me in a mental headspace to make a little follow-up chapter to Coming Home, since it’s looking like ya’ll are wanting that, hehe.

Also, one more warning. This is me trying to write a SHORT story and not have this as a full-blown novel. However, if this does receive a lot of love, I will 100% rewrite this to be a multi-chaptered work. This is me practicing self-restraint and tldr make a short story, you freaking gremlin sorta thing. OH, also, this isn’t beta-read, but will 100% be if this makes it to being AO3-post worthy.

AN: I AM TOO LAZY TO UPDATE MY WARNINGS BUT I MESSED UP AND THIS IS SO LONG BUT ENJOY IT AND IF YOU WANT AN EVEN LONGER VERSION WITH MORE LORE AND ACTION LET ME KNOW IN THE COMMENTS PLZ AND I WILL POST ON AO3 I FAILED KEEPING THIS SHORT, I AM SOOOORRRY

Wriothesley grunted as he was pushed forward, his hands bound behind his back by a golden metallic rope that refused to give way, even in the slightest. The guards that stood beside him ensured that he continued walking down the extravagantly decorated hallway, figures lining each side wearing various elegant dresses and suits, some even in intricately designed armor that mortals were rarely blessed to see. They all watched as the bound man was ushered onward to a large set of doors, decorated with a carved design of a long, serpent-like dragon encompassing the entire outer border of both doors, as if it were protecting what was beyond them. Wriothesley tried to slow his pace, flexing his well-defined muscles, doing whatever he could to try to break the bonds that held him in place, but nothing worked. The guards beside him only stared at his pathetic attempts at breaking free, a few patrons from the sidelines murmuring to themselves, commenting on how he should give up and how silly mortals were, thinking that they could defy even the smallest demands of the gods.

He always found himself in the most unfortunate circumstances, but this was the worst fate that could have befallen a human. Most of his kind kept their heads bowed, living silent lives and avoiding the powerful gazes of the deities that ruled their lands. For mere mortals, the prime level of life that they could wish to live was providing high level sacrifices to appease their rulers, hoping that they would be blessed in return or even ignored, in hopes of being allowed to live their lives to the best of their abilities. If they failed to uphold to this standard and a god felt slighted, even in the smallest of ways, then they were bound to become cursed, and experience the worst luck imaginable, having them wishing for a swift death. No, the gods loved toying with their victims, extending their punishment for as long as possible, feeding upon their misfortune, until their victims took their very last breaths. It was a miserable existence, but as long as you dedicated yourself to providing sacrifices that satisfied their desires and obeying whatever they commanded, then you could potentially avoid their gazes and wraths.

However, Wriothesley didn’t feel as though that was an existence worth living. He was a man that was shaped by misfortune, and rarely feared it. Having been orphaned at a young age and shoved from one foster family to another, he knew exactly what misfortune was, without the direct punishment of the gods. Each family he was tossed to was worst than the last. From having one family relying on him to provide them with everything and having worked to the point of exhaustion to keep food on the table, only to endure harsh beatings regardless of the outcome every night, to being sent off to fighting rings to win boxing matches against young men his age and older, he had seen it all. He eventually had enough and turned on his last foster family, killing his adoptive parents in the middle of the night, fleeing the area and taking the other children that happened to have the same misfortune as him to wherever he was going to go. They did find refuge in small, abandoned buildings, and for once his luck did strike true as he was able to find families that would take his adoptive brothers and sisters in, and not expose them to the same fates that they had before. No, these people took true pity on them, bringing them in and giving them a proper home and a good foundation for raising them. The same families always offered Wriothesley the same conditions, but he would always deny them, saying that he was far too damaged and messed up to be worth anything, too far gone for any sort of redemption or happy ending. Before they could even try to convince him otherwise, he had already taken his leave and was moving onto his next venture.

The young boy grew into a young man, roaming from city and city, finding places to work manual labor that would provide him with just enough funds to survive off of. Whenever a place offered him a permanent position or abode, he would thank them, and then immediately leave, onto the next city, town or village. He didn’t know why, but there was a part of his soul that felt like he was always in constant danger, and needed to run from prying eyes, even if he had no enemies. Though he had murdered his foster parents in cold blood as a boy, there were no further investigations into this, almost as if the crime had never happened. He wished so desperately that this was the truth of the matter, but his suspicions never seemed to completely wane. Someone had to have known, whether it be a mortal or a god. He knew that he was going to have to face the consequences of his actions, however justified that they were. So, he vowed that he would continue moving onward, never stopping, always running.

So, that’s exactly what he did. He never stayed long enough for any human or deity to know him well, and he wanted to keep it that way. Discretion was key, and to be honest with himself, this type of living excited him and kept him feeling alive. For once, he thought that he had finally hit it lucky, this was the lifestyle meant for him and he was going to live it to the fullest. Though his suspicions and underlying fear ruled him deep down, there was an odd sense of freedom that he felt being out on his own like this, and he never wanted to lose this. For once in his life, he felt lucky to be in the position that he was in. He was afraid to feel happy, but he couldn’t help himself. His adoptive brothers and sisters were on their way to a better future, and maybe one day, so would he.

Well, as quick as luck had visited him, it was just as fast to leave. The young man was continuing his work assisting a local general store with helping them bring in heavy goods, a horribly weighted sack placed on his shoulder as he was able to transport it inside of the store before multiple guards, lesser deities by the look of them, all approached him at once. Wriothesley immediately dropped the sack and tried to take off, not even taking the time to question their motives, but he was easily detained. One deity grabbed him by the shoulder and twisting it, pushing him against the wall as another guard brought out a metallic, golden rope, that automatically tied his wrists together behind him. Wriothesley growled as he tried to resist, now finding the time to begin spouting questions as he realized the situation that he was currently in.

“The hell did I even do?! I just got here and haven’t broken any laws, let me go!”

“That’s not up for discussion. You’re to come with us, no questions asked. Any hesitation, and we’ll hunt down your adoptive family and have them suffer for the rest of their days.” one of the growls out, tightening the rope around his wrists ever so slightly, for emphasis. Immediately, Wriothesley shut his mouth and said no word and offered no resistance. So, his suspicions were correct, someone had been keeping tabs on his whereabouts and knew about his past, but what god or mortal alike would hold any sort of interest in him? Sure, he was handsome and had both women and men swooning for him, but that never held any sort of value to him. He also didn’t have any sort of money in savings to his name, using whatever little he earned from odd jobs to be able to afford housing and small, pitiful meals and other necessities.

His heart felt like it skipped a beat, as he immediately reminded himself about his biggest fear. Was this finally the retribution that he would be facing for his previous sins? Did the families of his abusive foster parents that he murdered finally send out their agents to find him, and a god had felt it was their time to shine to torture a mortal? There was no escaping it, even if it was the case. Wriothesley then opted to keep his mouth shut, hoping he was overthinking the situation. But, what else could this possibly be over, then? He needed answers, but he wasn’t about to try to fight against them for it.

Reluctantly, Wriothesley complied with their demands, and was ushered into a rather delicately designed carriage, one that clearly belonged to a higher-powered god, but which, he had no idea. The guards also remained silent on the manner, merely ushering him in and taking an odd interest in keeping him safe and comfortable, but still under their ever-watchful gazes. They continued onward with their journey, and eventually reached to where they were now, standing in front of those formidable doors, gods of various levels of power and renown surrounding them all, but their focus all centered on him and him alone. Wriothesley’s heart was racing in anticipation, knowing that he had no choice but to face whatever was beyond those doors, even if it ended up killing him, or worse.

A low, guttural growl was heard, seemingly originating from past the closed entryway in front of them, which had Wriothesley’s eyes widening in shock. Never in his life had he heard such a noise, no other god he had known or met personally held the sort of power that was radiating from such a sound. The others that were previously surrounding him were now shuffling away in fear, some were even shaking, staring straight ahead. A thought suddenly ran through Wriothesley’s head, he noticed that all of the deities were distracted, and he could easily flee from the scene. He tried to will his body to run, but instead it only stayed firmly planted in place, his body no longer under his control. His heart began to race in a sudden panic, and it wasn’t eased as the closed doors in front of him began to part, opening up to reveal a continuation of the current hallway that he was in, but a darkness was at the very end, hiding whatever it was that was awaiting him.

What happened next horrified the young man beyond measure, and by then he knew that he was doomed.

“Wriothesley, step forward, come to me, come to your destiny.” a regal voice called out, though the growl from before was also heard in the same voice, as if they were perfectly mixed together. Whoever was calling to him, this had to be one of the ancient gods of lore, mighty beasts that garnered so much power from its followers and victories of war, that it gained godhood. But, what would such a highly positioned god want with someone low and poor, as himself? Wriothesley wasn’t about to argue, however. Wriothesley tested his muscles, now being able to freely move them. He had regained control of his body, and along with that realization, the golden metallic rope that was previously wrapped around his wrists shattered, releasing their hold on him. Whoever this was wanted him to come willingly and freely, but also prevented him from having any other option. After taking a moment to mentally accept the situation for what it was and what it could possibly be, the man slowly but surely took step after step, inching his way forward, obeying the command that had been called out to him.

Once he was past the dual doors, they both slammed shut behind him, as if signaling there was no way to truly turn back now, the only way was forward. The young man jumped in response to the loud noise behind him, but didn’t bother looking back. Instead, the man glared as he looked forward, a figure now clearly standing where darkness once was, the hallway now oddly illuminated, as if showcasing the person directly in his path.

The god before him stood mighty and tall, long white hair with just as long blue streaks, decorated with golden ornaments, robes that matched the varying colors of the ocean’s brightest waters, swirling around his slim body in an ancient style of robes. His eyes were a sharp lilac color, and gave an odd feeling of being so similar to the eyes of a feline, slit pupils that were slightly dilated as his gaze was transfixed to Wriothesley.

“I see that time has done you well, Wriothesley. You certainly grew into a rather handsome man. I will forever consider myself fortunate to lay claim on you so many years ago, before the others could.” At this, Wriothesley gasped, anxiety beginning to rise within his chest. A god laying claim on him? Ages ago? He would have remembered such a thing, seeing as though the deities usually made a huge spectacle when they took a human as theirs. It wasn’t an uncommon act, but according to what Wriothesley remembered hearing, a god had to be completely enamored with a mortal to do such an act. A claim meant ownership of the mortal by the god, sure, but it also bound them together in a deep, intimate way. The god would always know the whereabouts of the mortal, their control over them being absolute. For the mortal, it meant having a power being provide and protect them, but gods tended to be jealous beings, and this often resulted in a rather lonely existence for the mortal. There were humans that found this to be an absolute obsession for themselves, dolling up their looks and doing what they believed would get the attention of some sort of god that would claim them, but many found that staying away from this sort of deep-rooted obsession was better for them.

“I’m sorry, but I think you’ve got the wrong guy. No one’s laid claim on me and- “

“Then how would you explain your horrible luck then, Wriothesley?”

The young man shuddered, every time the god in front of him said his name, an odd wave of feelings started to phase through him that he couldn’t quite explain. It was like it felt right, and a small part of him wanted to hear the figure continue to say his name, until he couldn’t handle it anymore. The hell was wrong with him? He has never had such thoughts about others like this, why now?

“I-I’m not following…”

“I saw you kill your foster parents. I knew what you did was justified, my dear. They were horrible and their sins innumerable. You did what you needed to do to protect yourself and the little ones. It’s not often that I find myself observing humans as closely as you, and I knew from that moment forward, you were someone I wanted. Someone with such a profound sense of justice, and the spirit to carry out punishment. So, I cursed you.” The man continued to explain, as if it were common knowledge.

“Why the fuck would you curse someone that you’re interested in? Are you fucking insane?!” Wriothesley shouted out, stomping forward to stand right in front of the mighty being. The ancient one’s brows furrowed, glaring at the young man in front of him.

“Wriothesley…” the god said, his tone demanding respect and issuing a single and final warning.

Wriothesley bared his teeth at the ancient one, issuing his own, small, pathetic growl, in comparison. However, he understood and heeded the silent warning, not taking any further action, allowing the omnipotent being before him to continue on with his explanation.

“Of course. I didn’t want to take you away, especially with you being so young. However, I wanted no other god to look upon you in favor and want you for themselves. So, I placed a curse on you, and took care of anyone being aware of you committing murder. You would always feel as though someone or something was chasing you. A home would never be one for long, your soul aching to keep searching for something. If a suitor tried to approach you, you would take no notice or interest. They, also, would disappear from your life. Luck would abandon you, forcing you to follow your true destiny with hardships that would test you, mold you for your potential to come alive. You were to keep living your life, until I was prepared to receive you, and you were of a proper age. Now, is the time, Wriothesley…”

The powerful being before him then snapped his fingers, the area around them turning pitch black for just a moment, before the it was illuminated once more, showing a marble decorated room with various different nautical decorations adorning every aspect of it. Blues, golds and silvers lined and adorned every aspect of it, treasures beyond measure lay everywhere, as if the room itself were a museum of the heavenly bodies. In the middle of the room, and directly behind the god, was a giant, circular bed with blankets of the finest silk with the same level of intricate designs on them as well. Wriothesley’s breath stuttered, as he took a small step back, his head tilting to the side in confusion.

“Now is the time to consummate our binding, wouldn’t you agree? It’s been many years, and my hunger for you is insufferable…” the being in front of him stared intensely into his own eyes, unable to avoid him. A million thoughts were running through Wriothesley’s mind, but only one question was able to come out.

“W-w-who are you…?”

“Ah, yes. Sincerest apologies, my love. You may know me by many names, and by many forms, though this is my true self, that I will never hesitate to show and share with you. The title you humans appear to have given me in my temples is Neuvillette, god of all that is hydro, the waters of all are mine, of the lakes, the sea…” Neuvillette purred as he began to approach Wriothesley.

“Of every human body, but especially yours…”

The young man hastily started taking steps backwards, never keeping his eyes off of the powerful being before him, but it was to no avail for his situation. Suddenly, behind him, he felt a sort of cushion that he was then pushed down onto, sheets wrapping up around him as he became entangled in them. It took a moment for him to realize that the god before him must have teleported the both of them straight to the circular bed he had observed before, and now both of them completely nude and exposed to each other. Wriothesley shrieked as realized the position that the two were in now, him being laid out on the bed like a meal on a decorated platter, while the god above was draped over him in pure possession and domination, but that wasn’t the only reason why he screamed out. The young man also observed the full body of the god in front of him, perfectly chiseled muscles but with a slim, elegant figure. White, creamy skin that was free from any blemish or imperfection, and perfectly smooth with little to no body hair, except for his lower body, where white pubic hair trailed from below his navel down towards his lower pelvic region, where instead of one perfectly thick and long member, he seemed to have…two…

Oh, fuck, he was truly not going to make it out of this alive, whether Neuvillette realized it or not.

“G-Get the fuck off of me, just kill me!” Wriothesley screamed out, trying his best to push the god off of him, but once more, to no avail. Though his muscles were much larger than the deity that was draped above him, it mattered little. Whatever claim the god had on him seemed to hold true, he could never overpower him.

“Never, Wriothesley, never, you’re staying with me for the rest of eternity. I will show you how a god truly appreciates his claimed…” Neuvillette growled out, as he lowered his head and nuzzled Wriothesley’s neck, licking it repeatedly in a sensual manner, as if he were handling an absolute treasure. Wriothesley shut his eyes as he moaned in pleasure, not able to prevent himself from doing so, as his hips started rutting upwards, his member starting to harden from just the simplest of touches from this being. He blushed in embarrassment, but no one had ever touched him in this way before, no one had ever said such words to him. Everything he ever wanted to hear and feel from someone, Neuvillette was serving it on a silver platter for him, and he was a starved mortal, ready to accept it all.

“Ah, ah, what are you doing to me, Neuvillette…” Wriothesley breathed out, in a husky voice, fully immersed in all of the emotions and sensations he was feeling. Neuvillette only smiled against the skin of his neck, as his hands began to roam the young man’s body. Soft, but powerful hands continued to caress him, touching Wriothesley in places he never dared imagine anyone else doing so. From his muscled pectorals, down the sides of his stone hard abdomen, and then finally down to his rear as Neuvillette grabbed his cheeks, giving them a nice, firm squeeze, sharp nails digging into the meat of them, but never breaking the skin.

“I’m showing you how much you mean to me, you’re my desire, my passion, my reason to hold firm to my rule, so that no other may touch you like this. Only me, only ever me…” Neuvillette mumbled, burying his head back into the crook of Wriothesley’s neck as he continued.

Wriothesley let out a dirty moan as Neuvillette’s fangs elongated, rooting themselves deep into his neck, and tasting of his blood. The god made sure that when he released and his fangs retracted, that the wound would heal, but leave behind a deep scar that none other would question. He made sure in the back of his mind, to order one of his underlings to immediately begin commissioning a necklace for Wriothesley, that would accentuate his looks but also have the marks forever on full display for the world to see.

At this point, Wriothesley was hard as a rock, his member leaking precum as it begged for attention, for a release, for pleasure, and Neuvillette was more than happy to oblige. Removing himself from the young man’s neck, Neuvillette moved over to Wriothesley’s lips, licking them lightly, biting at him just a smidge, before he invaded them completely, inserting his long tongue and exploring the depths within. Wriothesley greedily allowed him to do so, wrapping his arms around the neck of the god, pressing him further down so that the kiss could be deepened even further, if that was possible. Neuvillette could only smile as he continued his assault, a hand now trailing down Wriothesley’s body, feeling the differences between the two. Where Neuvillette’s body was smooth and perfect, Wriothesley’s had dark hair that covered his arms, some of his chest, and definitely trailed down to his lower regions, oozing manly features. His body, though littered with scars from the trials and tribulations of his life, only seemed to further decorate how in his own way, he was powerful and worthy to be the claimed of Neuvillette.

As the hand of the god reached Wriothesley’s member, the man groaned, still stuck in the deep and passionate kiss, continued to raise his hips up, a while leaving his lips as his member demanded any sort of friction against it. Neuvillette grabbed him, stroking up and down, thumb teasing the leaking head. The kiss finally broke as Neuvillette desired to see Wriothesley’s pleasure, as he continued to pump the member of his claimed, doing every action so perfectly and true to the wants and needs of the young man. It wasn’t long before Wriothesley was breathing hard, his body shaking as he released all over the god, thick ropes of cum shooting out and even coating Neuvillette’s chest, as if adding to the creamy skin of his claimer.

Neuvillette could only continue to smile as Wriothesley repeatedly began to apologize, ashamed of what he had done but enjoying feeling every effect his god was bestowing upon him.

“Shhh, my soul, hush now with that. I do not want your apologies for indulging in what I give freely to you. Now, roll over…” Neuvillette growled out, the animalistic side of him starting to show. Wriothesley trembled beneath Neuvillette for a moment, but the god only offered him an odd sense of assurance as he gently led Wriothesley to roll over onto his stomach, directing him to keep his chest lowered onto the bedsheets but his rear raised high, on full display to his god. The young man, still embarrassed, tried his best to hide his face within the lavish sheets of the bed, but didn’t fight back. A part of him wanted this, needed this, wanting this session they were sharing to never end.

Wriothesley felt a warmness spread throughout his core, as he assumed Neuvillette had summoned some sort of water to assist with what was about to happen. The liquid was spread along the crease of his bottom and hole, delicate and soft fingers of the god above him caressing him, touching every inch of him, as if he were savoring his very existence. It wasn’t much longer after this that he could feel an odd flesh shape being pressed against his hole, one of his dicks, Wriothesley surmised. His heart started to pick up it’s pace once more, worried that such a formidable size wouldn’t be able to fit and he would feel nothing but pain as he was tortured into the act. However, that was far from the truth.

The water continued to warm and relax the skin that it touched, his muscles feeling lose and somewhat stretched even before he knew he was being entered. Neuvillette lowered himself once more, kissing Wriothesley’s back and nibbling here and there with his fangs, building up Wriothesley’s desire for him, which he did. Once he heard the young boy beginning to pant, spreading his legs even further and raising his rear even higher, he knew he was ready. Slowly, the god started pressing the head of one of his cocks into the greedy hole of his claimed, and it accepted him with ease. Wriothesley continued to plant his head directly into the sheets of the bed, moaning so loudly and continued to pant like a dog, but he desperately wanted this, needed this. It was only a matter of time before the god was deeply planted inside of him, taking a moment to relish the feel of the warmth that his length was now experiencing. The god then started to pump into his claimed, clawed hands holding onto his waist for support.

The thrusts started out small, and careful, but the pace was quick to change. The more that Neuvillette was planted in Wriothesley, the more that he desired, so his thrusts began to continue with their assault, becoming deeper and rougher.

“Yes, yes! More, more-gah, FUCK!” Wriothesley yelled out as his thoughts started to lose all sense but being completely consumed by pleasure. Within seconds he lost the ability to form any coherent words, only feeling and appreciating the ecstasy that his god was providing for him. Time seemed to go on forever as the thrusts continued, and Wriothesley had begun grabbing onto the nearby sheets, twisting them until they were a complete mess from the perfect state that they were in before.

Another deep, animalistic growl was heard above him, which made him moan even harder, as he felt Neuvillette’s balls slap against his ass from how deep he was thrusting in, the second cock now also fully erect was also slapping against his ass, warm and thick. It seemed that the god did have some form of pity for him, as he had only inserted one of his members this time. But that didn’t stop the conquering of his mortal body. A few more grunts were heard as Wriothesley felt something spill inside of him, so very warm and copious amounts kept flooding in. The young man sighed in absolute bliss, eyes fluttering shut as his body fell down back to the bed, Neuvillette easing him back down, but keeping his member deeply planted as more cum continued to be released inside of his claimed one.

Little did Wriothesley know this was the final act to solidify their bond. The god of hydro had marked him with his essence, and it will never fade. Every god and mortal will instantly know who he belonged to, and Neuvillette will always know what he was feeling, where he was, his thoughts and feelings now completely forfeit to him.

Oh, how lucky this god truly was.

[toffeebrews]

Abyss

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️😇🧸👻🎶👽💤🦾💝🫂💔 🪢📓👗🔪🌟🥇🍫🎭❤️‍🔥💄🖕😸😬😭😶

Yeah, you’re also doing the entire ask meme. Have fun <3

EVERY SINGLE ONE?? YOU MADMAN???

anyways-

none of this is canon blah blah you get it and abyss is not owned by me but @/metakazkz this is simply my own interpretation.

🏳️‍🌈- Aroace.

🏳️‍⚧️- Don't really have one, maybe demiboy?

😇- I believe the term here is misotheism? Yeah.

🧸- Abyss love for reading manifested in keeping himself occupied while tests were being run on him in the lab. Not that he remembers much of that...

👻- He has a minor fear of blood, probably doesn't help he doesn't have it himself. He also fears being seen as weak or just underestimated. I think he also doesn't like the idea of losing himself.

🎶- Prefers instrumentals over normal music. Likes classical music and gothic rock.

👽- Type to go "erm actually!" and enjoys correcting people 🙄 especially when it comes to the books he reads. annoying ass /j

💤- He actually finds it comforting to sleep with other people, although he finds it a little embarrassing so he won't ask for it. If he does sleep with another person, he tends to lay his scarves like a blanket on the other. He prefers smaller cuddle piles though, he can feel a little overwhelmed otherwise.

🦾- I didn't really have one for this, so I tried to think of one. Perhaps...Magic usage most people can do exhausts him to a much greater extent than others. It can give extreme fatigue, to the point he may just fall asleep in battle. Maybe his enhanced magic takes a great strain on his body? this counts right? ajshskwususkeuwjeiekjehe

💝- Gift exchange or Acts of Service.

🫂- He and Delta are friends... Why? Because why not, that's my answer (I wanted to do this in another post I'll explain it further there).

💔- Alphys has hope that the other members of Abysstale are still out there. Abyss has lost hope they're out there, but won't say it because he doesn't want to admit it. Something dramatic like that. He doesn't like mentioning those "missing" at all just reminds me of what's he lost. He's now scared to let his friends out of sight in fear something will happen out of his control again

📓- Paper crane made him realize he really likes paper crafts! He can make complicated sculptures.

🧬- Papyrus and Him disagree on what Abyss Gaster purpose for them is. Yay!

👗- He dresses in winter outfits because he enjoys the aesthetic of it. He also just likes winter (he canonically prefers winter environments :3).

🔪- He does have offense powers, but uses defensive ones. That's sorta kinda canonish. He eventually learns to make shields big enough to fit more than himself.

🌟- He wants to be looked at a competent leader. Not only by others but also by his own standards. Since he didn't feel like I could be one at first he feels even more pressured not let others down. (that's just one of em but this post is so LONG)

🥇- If you ever need someone to be direct and honest about your flaws look no further than this guy LMFAO.

🍫- He really likes fish, he prefers it raw. Likes fishing with his teeth.

🎭- Generally Abyss is pretty forecoming. HOWEVER!

❤️‍🔥- Doesn't mind doing some romantic actions, but doesn't like having it be read as romantic (does this count?).

💄- He has markings all over his body that glow when he uses his CELL specific magic (haven't illustrated this yet...).

🖕- He has an intense fear of being seen as weaker than others or weak in general so any implications that he IS weak, incompetent, etc make him the

😬 - I don't have anything for this I'm sorry lmfao.

😺- When angry, he growls like a cat. He hisses too, but that's more when annoyed rather than angry.

😭- He feels incredibly guilty about the critical condition papyrus ends up in. He feels guilty that his brother had to come to his rescue /again/.

😶- He has a list of goofy insults within his jacket pocket. It's written by himself when he thinks of a good one.

if some of these shorter or less thought out sorry I started running out of stream lmfao

[quailxcrossing]

🌖AUÏ PLEASE I BEG YOU!!!!!!

Also

🌑-any oc

🌒-ruse AND Caius

🌠-the goat

☄️-Ran!!

☀️-magic

🌕- Ruse, Magic, Goat, Auï, Ran

🌖 - What is your OC’s favorite scent? Is it nostalgic? 

Auï - pancakes :3 if you unleashed him in a Bath and Body Works he would look for the autumn scents and go for something baking, but preferably pancakes (should note pancakes are also one of his favorite foods) It is a bit nostalgic for him! definitely reminds him of both of his homes

🌒 - Under what circumstances is your OC their most genuine self? 

Ruse - Ruse is honestly quite often her most genuine self, but the thing is no one ever believes she is being genuine! she truly is a very quiet, very stumbly and awkward and stilted conversationist, and because of her odd past, most folks think she's hiding something. at worst, they treat her like she's dangerous or manipulative for being just herself :'3 she's truly only becoming more genuine with time, as she learns more about herself and her interests and has the space to indulge in them!

Caius- corny but true answer- when they're with etcetera, or his sister darcy! when they're around Etcetera, they're a lot more talkative and joke easier, quicker to make snarky comments and speak freely! she is def their little emotional support boyfriend just being around Etcetera for a while did get Cai more comfortable with being himself around his other friends too- but etcetera vanishing sorta undid a lot of that, but caius is truly authentic to being terrified of everything and wanting to curl up and cry constantly

🌠 - What is your OC’s greatest desire and how far are they willing to go to obtain it? 

Goat - his greatest desire has always been to keep his friends safe, and he will go to great extremes he absolutely doesn't need to go to if he can give himself a good reason in his mind as to why they should stay with him :3

☄️ - From your OC’s perspective, write a short paragraph about their average day. 

Ran - ok i will be so honest, i am not sure, i dont have an as detailed iterinary as i do for Machwell, Ran just sorta my little guy with a tragic backstory and a fruity disposition they work a tourist trap, so they're honestly there most of the time, or bothering their brother Noctiluca at his workplace, or enjoying the weather and staring off into space and shutting down every thought that comes too close to ruining their Vibe

☀️ - How well does your OC deal with isolation? 

Magic - Magic does like her space! she moved out of her mom's house pretty quick into adulthood despite the good relationship just because she needed the quiet. she can so gladly go days seeing no one, doing her own projects, and talking to herself. when she's with others, she switches into extrovert mode, although she is an introvert at heart. i think all of this is one of the reasons she gravitated to Ruse- her quiet demeanor and eagerness for parallel play allows them to spend hours together without needing to put any overly social front up! of course, Magic loves her friends so so sooo much, and she craves to spend time with them and yap and chatter, but she does not require it.

🌕 - Describe what your OC would wear to a costume party.  LOVE THIS Ruse- I really really really wanted to draw her dressed up as Wonder Whitney for Halloween....i ran outta time i was so busy.......Wonder Whitney is her favorite musician and i think Wonder is PLENTY famous enough that it would be a recognizable costume to do one of its music video looks

remind me to draw this at some point

Magic - magic gets such bad decision paralysis with outfits, i think she'd settle on a.) doing a couple costume with twilight (its always ponies cosplay) b.) ???? c.) she lowkey would love to do a knight costume but she doesn't want to like...insult?? Ruse?? she's so scared to even mention she thinks it would be so cool.....ruse would not mind i swear. she just wants to see how the armor feels it looks so cool but she's overthinking it so she's going with ??? instead

Ran - Ran is always dressed up in costume, but i think it would be funny if Noctiluca convinced them to dress up in a t-shirt and jeans and no makeup. i genuinely think no one would recognize her

Goat and Auï - Do Not Forget About The Pears

[knifedancer]

Love At First Sight - Bonus (Sorta)

While writing LAFS I had one question that kept popping up in my mind: “Is Felix going to be Argos in this? Does he have the Peacock miraculous?” Ultimately, I decided it would make the story too long and complicated to add that tidbit in. This bonus is what I think would happen if Argos was involved in this plotline. It can be read by itself or in tandem, it's sorta related and unrelated at the same time. Enjoy!

You can find the original on AO3 at the following link: here!

Main Story

Silly Thoughts

*******

It had been about an hour since the akuma attack was resolved and Felix had confessed. He had not expected a reply nor a change in their dynamic to come from this…it just felt like the right time to finally tell her. It felt good to clearly state his feelings. Marinette, in her typical fashion, had stuttered and made excuses before hurriedly leaving. He had wanted to walk her home – since school was canceled for the rest of the day – but he held back the offer. Having known her for a while, he knew and could sense that her reaction was not borne from a dislike of him but rather of her own anxieties. If the emotions he sensed while she blushed and babbled were any indication, he dared hope that his feelings might actually have a chance to be returned… She just needed time to process, he would gladly give it to her. However, he still felt a need to check on her to be sure that she was safe. Today had been a traumatic experience after all, and he would be damned if Gabriel would take advantage of her lingering emotional state to akumatize her!

“Are we going to go check on your hen, Felix?” The peacock kwami giggled, flying about in a figure eight with excitement.

“We shall, just to be sure she’s alright. Duusu, spread my feathers!”

With a flash of blue, he stood transformed before his bedroom mirror. An unusual wave of nervousness came over him as he regarded his reflection. She had seen him dressed like this before, but he now felt worried what she would think of his miraculous suit. ‘She’s a designer…’ he thought to himself as he tugged at his hood and gloves as if trying to make himself more presentable. He felt like a bird attempting to preen their feathers in a way to attract a mate. He definitely blamed Duusu for this. He felt ridiculous. Taking one last look in the mirror as he attempted to smooth down the front, he steeled himself. ‘I’m just going to check on her. This isn’t a social call.’

He exited his bedroom window and ran along the rooftops. He paused when he came to the road in which she had been knocked over. Remembering the powerful desire to protect as her emotions went haywire – panic, fear, and concern – for him. It rolled off her like gentle waves in a low tide lagoon, gently plucking every heartstring in his chest. And the emotions of her new ‘admirer’ – unadulterated lust – had driven away his usual restraint against gross physical harm. The relief and amazement he felt from her after had been reward enough. But then he had had to carry her…his palms on her bare skin…he had felt his own emotions as high as hers in that moment!

Argos dragged a gloved hand down his reddened face at the memory before taking off again. Trying to clear his mind, he worked through the rest of the morning. After being shook free from the emotional overload in the classroom by her cry of pain, he immediately ran interference to delay the other idiots attempting to grab Marinette again. It was not much but Felix was sure it gave the two girls enough time to find a suitable place to hide. Then he sensed it… The terrifying fear and panic as she had huddled under that desk – so palpable that he could identify it even from down the hallway, like a thick miasma that threatened to choke him. Felix had known immediately who it was from. Marinette’s emotions, regardless of what she felt, were always tinged with a sweet aura all their own; almost like a pheromone that could only be felt rather than experienced by the traditional five senses. A sweetness that had drawn him in since that night at the Diamond Dance and led to his flimsy excuses to be included in their class, regardless of the danger he was putting himself in. Being exposed to it every day, his own affections had naturally grown for the girl…

However, in that moment, all he had wanted was to comfort her. He had lied about seeing Césaire leave the classroom, knowing the thought of Monarch being able to sense her emotions would have put her into a more destructive spiral. When Marinette had explained about the akuma and how she thought his own reaction was caused by it, his heart had thudded painfully in his chest. He had mentally cursed Gabriel; knowing his feelings were genuine but she would never believe his sincerity while this akuma was in play. At least he had an excuse to treat her as he truly wanted. Illogical as it was, this akuma attacking his crush suddenly felt personal and it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Perhaps it was time to trade sides? Could he even be a hero? Ladybug seemed the understanding sort, but he had betrayed her before…would she trust him enough to let him work beside her again?

He would have to find a way, for Marinette.

“No wonder Duusu laughs at me… She’s not even mine and I’m already henpecked,” Argos mused quietly.

He landed on top of the scaffolding that wrapped around the scorched roof of Norte Dame and gazed down Rue Gotlib toward the bakery she called home. His heart flipped in his chest as he realized he could make out the barest hint of the fairy lights she had strung up on her balcony. He took a steadying breath, reminding himself that he was only there to pass by without being seen and prepared to leap to the next rooftop. Just then, a flash of familiar red appeared in his peripherals. He turned toward the north, seeing the hazy shape of Ladybug swinging in his direction.

Argos paused and decided this was likely the best time to make contact, to make his new objectives known to the hero – no akumas and without her timer running down. Perhaps without that mangey cat that always ruffled his feathers! Even when he held the Dog miraculous briefly, something about Chat Noir just did not sit right with Felix. Perhaps it was the blond hair? Was a side effect of the black cat miraculous the human equivalent of dander? He shook his head free of such thoughts. The purple suited villain shifted and leaped, taking a route further away from his original goal. Argos knew when he was spotted – the red figure stopped and took up a defensive stance – and slowed his approach to seem less threatening. He needed this to go well.

However, as he landed at the opposite end of the large rooftop, Argos paused and narrowed his eyes. This was not Ladybug!

“Who the hell are you? Where is Ladybug?” He pulled out his fan, holding it like a weapon at rest to not agitate the person in front of him but allowing him the easy access to fight should he need it. The red-spotted stand-in’s eyes flashed and narrowed – he wished the miraculous cloaking allowed him to clearly read her emotions. Instead, he could only glean what he could from her body language and the muted, muddled sensations that danced just out of reach.

“The name’s Scarabella. Let’s just say that the Lady was preoccupied,” she replied coolly.

“So it was your incompetence I should blame for all the time it took to defeat the akuma today,” he scoffed. Marinette had to suffer for hours while this… this…knock-off hero took the reins? What had Ladybug been thinking?!

Scarabella’s spine straightened with a snap, he didn’t need to see her eyes to know that the hazy emotion he was sensing was scorching anger. “Excuse me? This coming from a villain that betrayed us and all of Paris – scratch that, betrayed the world – and for what? So you could dress up like some reject popinjay to dance around on rooftops and make people disappear?”

Argos winced; this was not how he wanted this to go. He sighed and tucked his fan into his hood. “Look, when I saw someone else wearing the mantle…I reacted wrong. I assume you have some way to contact her? Or her kwami could? I need to speak with her.”

Suspicious eyes narrowed upon him, “What is the message?”

“I won’t say, I have no idea who you are or how close to all this you are. Just let her know that I mean no harm. She can even bring that damn cat, if she so pleases.” Argos’ lips pulled back into a snarl, not disguising his distaste for the other half of the Parisian hero team. “I just need to speak with her on a miraculous matter.”

Scarabella regarded him with narrowed eyes for a silent moment before her body shifted into a more relaxed posture, her arms crossing her chest as she leaned back on her heels. “Fine. I’ll let LB know. I can’t promise that she’ll meet you. She’s been far more cautious since your...incident.”

“Understood, I expected nothing less.” He placed a foot on the edge of the roof, turning his body back from whence he came while keeping his eyes on the temporary bug. A wicked grin split his face. “Oh, and don’t bother following me unless you want to chase after one of my creations tonight.”

He heard a scandalized noise as he launched himself from the roof. He had a fair maiden to check on.

~~~

It didn’t take Argos long to make it back to Rue Gotlib and settle in on a rooftop adjacent to the bakery, hiding himself in the long shadows cast by the dying light. Being especially cautious, he pulled his hood forward to hide his magenta eyes as he gazed into her bedroom window hoping for a glimpse of the young designer. She wandered into his field of view, he felt his heart dance around in his chest – Marinette’s hair was down, her face washed clean of the little makeup she normally wore, and she took up lounging on her chaise as she sketched in her pajamas. She was stunning! He reached out with his senses and immediately met her emotions – the sweet aura wrapping around his consciousness like a blanket and the peacock holder involuntarily smiled. “I’m really a goner, aren’t I, Duusu?” He whispered to himself, knowing the kwami would find this hilarious later.

He watched as she flexed her toes, bobbing her head to a tune he couldn’t hear from his vantage point, her lips mouthing words he wished he could hear. Argos probed a bit further with his powers to gauge her emotional state: peace, joy, calm, with a hint of nervousness. His smile turned fond. ‘That’s my girl, never letting a thing weigh her down for long…’

Argos heard the familiar sound of a yo-yo and he pressed himself further into his shadow as he looked around for the source. Suddenly Scarabella appeared flipping over the back of the roof and landed onto Marinette’s balcony. He felt the bluenette’s curiosity followed by her happiness as she bounced up and shut her curtains. He narrowed his eyes, watching the spotted stand-in duck through a trapdoor and into the confines of Marinette’s bedroom, then observed a pink flash filter through the opaque material of the curtains.

‘Do Scarabella and Marinette know each other?’ he wondered, filtering through the emotions flowing from the building for any threat. He watched with confusion as the side door of the bakery apartment opened silently and Césaire exited, looking both ways before running down a neighboring alleyway. ‘Was she…Scarabella? What does Marinette have to do with this?’ A sinking sensation formed in his stomach.

He ran down a few rooftops before crossing the street and circling back to the balcony from behind, keeping himself hidden. Argos listened and watched as the bluenette came up to the balcony to watch the waning sunset turn to dusk, murmuring quietly to herself or perhaps on the phone? The blond felt as if there was a riddle here that he needed an answer to… Bracing himself, he leaped one last time and landed on the balcony behind Marinette – who jumped and spun around to face him. “Argos?!” He felt a wave of worry and nervousness overcome the girl; her body shook from the sheer force of the panic that was rising.

Mentally cursing himself for ruining the calm she had finally achieved and unsure of how to proceed, he made a flamboyant bow. “Evening, Marinette! I thought I heard a bug buzzing about and found you instead… mind if I rest my feathers upon your lovely roost?”

Confusion.

Worry.

Nervousness.

Paranoia.

…and, beneath all that, a hint of something warmer.

Argos straightened with a smile he hoped was disarming – Adrien was always much better at putting people at ease than Felix – and observed her. ‘No phone. Then who was she talking to?’ His magenta eyes flickered over the rooftop with interest, pretending to assess the decorations in the space while he looked for any pets or god-like beings…he found none. “Beautiful space you have here. Very cozy.” Keeping his posture relaxed, he stepped closer to the bluenette by the balcony rail.

“Oh, heh, thank you. I like to come up here to design and relax, you know?” He watched as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, exposing her earlobes. Earlobes that sported familiar dark colored earrings.

His mind flashed back to this morning with a more discerning eye. He remembered pulling the silky threads of her hair back into a braid, exposing the nape of her neck and ears…. which were conspicuously free of earrings, and he froze for a moment as his eyes widened slightly. Puzzle pieces started to click into place in his mind. ‘No…it couldn’t be…’

Clearing his throat, he smiled and motioned towards her ears. “Pretty earrings, are they a family heirloom?” A fresh spike of panic lanced into him so quickly that he physically winced. That was confirmation enough. His heart sank as he recalled what he had done to the heroine…who he now knew was his beloved. He, Felix Fathom, was the cause of her grief and suffering. He had betrayed the one person he treasured most. ‘Duusu, what have I done?’ The guilt, which rose like bile in his throat, solidified his decision.

“Ye-yes, how’d you know?” Marinette’s voice was jittery and nervous. He’d play along for now as he processed this information.

“Just a guess. You never take them off.” He replied, leaving the except for earlier today to himself. Argos felt her panic ebb with a thin thread of relief. “Honestly, I came here to check on you after the akuma today…” he spoke softly as he looked towards the horizon. Curiosity. Relief. The hint of warmth was back too.

“O-oh… Fel—ah, Argos, you didn’t need to do that. I appreciate your concern though…” He didn’t need to read her emotions to know that she was embarrassed and blushing. His cheeks felt a bit warm too.

“As you know, you mean a lot to me.” Argos turned towards her again, their eyes meeting silently. His voice dropped to a whisper and he reached up to cup her cheek, basking in the warmth of her skin through the magical material. “I wanted – no, needed – to talk to you. After what happened today, I realized I could no longer stand on the sidelines… My priorities and goals have changed. I can no longer play the villain while those I care the most about are caught in the crossfire...”

“What…what are you saying?” Surprise, shock, and hope edged out the lingering nervousness.

Argos’ magenta eyes glowed as he smirked, “I’m saying that I’m on your side, my Lady.”

Marinette’s eyes grew wide, her conflicting emotions ran the gambit so quickly that he struggled to pick up even one in the tidal wave of input as it crashed over him. However, what he did pick up gave him hope: relief and, trailing behind the wave, a hint of pure joy. From the edges of his vision a little red kwami peeked out of a nearby flower planter, impossibly big eyes filled with hope. Felix dropped his transformation and leaned in close, never letting his eyes leave her bluebells as the smirk grew into a teasing smile.

“Does this mean I can have that kiss now?”

[lee-writes-things]

☆ the hawthorne brothers+ avery, max, libby, rebecca, and thea during the eras tour ☆

a/n: co-written by @nutellani and i. this was originally just going to be stored in my notes app because i had a big brain thought but then i decided that tumblr doesn't have enough tig content and i needed to help change that. i got stumped on a few things, so i of course asked my lovely mutual nova for some assistance <3 (tysm!!)

aaaanway, enough about that, here you go:

they obvi went to the concert in texas. they probably got tickets for both arlington and houston bc rich people yk

nash wore a sparkly cowboy hat and so did libby

(idc what you say, in my head, he likes glitter and i will stand on that hill)

in fact they all wore sparkly cowboy hats (xander forced grayson), but nash and libby's were matching

grayson ofc is wearing all black, very rep era but he's secretly a lover girl at heart. he also likes midnights because let's face it- who doesn't??

but everyone convinced him to get his jacket embroidered with "ts" and a few snakes along the sleeves and back to pull together the whole rep look

i don't think i finished talking about nash and libby?? anyway, matching sequin cowboy hats, nash wore a flannel with patches from different albums

him and libby spent a whole night designing it

libby wore a tee shirt from the midnights album

and the night before, nash and libby painted her favorite lyrics on some black cargo pants and some cute lil doodles

nash totally wrote N+L on one of the pockets inside a big red heart because i said so

very cute couple moment

thea is in her rep era because she's a badass so she wore all black with some maroon to make her outfit pop, she got her nails done and everything

girl was drop dead gorgeous

rebecca went with a more simplistic look, lavender flowly dress just under the knee, with a cardigan. yes, the cardigan. rebecca gives off very mellow and soft vibes so i think that's why she went with an evermore themed outfit

now, onto avery. i think her favorite albums is midnights and rep because of the vibe of the songs and overall it is just SO HER and i feel like she wore a shirt with the midnights album cover on it. she also wrote her favorite lyrics from the album on the front of the shirt with a fabric pen or something of the sort. i can also see her wearing a rep outfit too tho!! she is rich so since she could go to two concerts and wear both outfits ig lol

jameson is a total swiftie!! xander is too but we'll get to that next this boy would really like 1989 and a good handful of songs from lover because they remind him of avery

he would wear something 1989 themed but also something sorta flashy, i think

now moving onto max

she for sure loves the love triangle in folklore/evermore but also enjoys midnights

she radiates night owl energy because she'll stay up until 4am to finish a really good plot twisty dark romance novel and the whole track (midnights 3am edition) reminds her of her favorite ships. she makes edits and you can't convince me otherwise. although max does love evermore, she would totally love speak now era taylor and therefore would wear that really pretty purple sparky dress on the album cover!!

xander totally bought it for her

and with max looking like a literal princess, he would be mad blushing

and when he snaps out of his daze, he would tell her how pretty she is because let's face it- max is beautiful

now, as mentioned before, xander is a hardcore swiftie and i will always think this

he is a lover lover, so definitely went with a hat of the colors on the album

totally bitch-slapped toxic masculinity in the face by wearing pretty pastels

and definitely had the jacket from the yntcd MV!!

their favorite eras (and moments i suppose) on tour:

nash: debut, fearless

we love his nomad cowboy vibes

he also definitely vibes along with whatever libby likes too because he's down bad-

anyway

grayson: red

definitely shed a few tears during all too well ten minute version even though he tried to hide it

cus it reminded him of emily

i hate her with a passion

this isn't about her though

he loved the song and performance for 22 since he's in his 20's and his family is always telling him to loosen up

attending this concert definitely helped him

jameson: 1989

screaming along to style for sure!! me and nova were talking a bit about how he fits the description-

Exhibit A, "you got that James Dean daydream look in your eyes" is so him!!

Exhibit B, because i said so

me and nova totally weren't fangirling over this, i have no idea what you're talking about-

xander: lover

xander fs would start dancing with max and singing softly when taylor sang lover

and nash caught it all on camera

such a cute candid moment

i love xander+max with everything in me

libby: midnights

more specifically, WCS because she could relate to "give me back my girlhood, it was mine first"

fuck drake

i know that she wasn't a teen when they were in a relationship but she was still young, and he was toxic asf

aaaanyway, she would also love when tay performed vigilante shit

tay slayed so hard (i had to tell myself to turn down the gay because my mom and sister were at the concert with me lmao)

everyone felt things when taylor did that performance, to say the least

ik thea and practically everyone else would be in awe~

thea: reputation

would scream along to don't blame me

and she would sound amazing because there's nothing she can't do bffr

and rebecca would be like "damn how'd i get so lucky"

thea would also love karma from midnights because i feel like she's the type of person to not give af about other people and their opinions cus she knows that bad things are coming their way

"me and karma vibe like that" is so her

but she could also shit talk and stand her ground (and also fight)

i also think that that one part of don't blame me, "don't blame me, love made me crazy if it doesn't, you ain't doing it right" and "my drug is my baby" she would sing while making eye contact with rebecca

rebecca: evermore (and folklore obvi)

she would sing and sway softly and thea would take such a beautiful candid photo of her while she sings aksjaja

and when cardigan plays, she would grab thea's hand and dance with her, foreheads touching

this time, xander would take a photo of them like that and it becomes thea's homescreen

thea would also love champagne problems omfg-

rep gf x evermore gf is such a cute dynamic and they slayed so hard

and nowww avery: rep and also midnights!!

would love getaway car with a PASSION

it's just so her <33

"you were driving the getaway car" is very averyjameson even tho the rest of the lyrics aren't lol

she would love mastermind and especially the lyrics "you knew that im a mastermind and now you're mine"

and Paris!!

both songs are so averyjameson coded

"im so in love i might stop breathing drew a map on your bedroom ceiling" and "no i didn't see the news cause we were somewhere else" ajdjjahd

it's THEIR song and i will defend that till the day i die

bonus: i almost forgot to include oren and alisa, im so sorry, im very sleepy!! anyway, oren refuses to wear anything other than his usual attire meanwhile this concert is one ofbthe very few instances where you see alisa in casual clothes. not many people know (other than the hawthornes of course) that she's a swiftie because she always acts so professional. she wears that one red letters shirt that says "who's taylor swift, anyway? ew." and everyone does a double take cus she also has her hair down and doesn't look formal lmao. during some songs avery looks over her shoulder and swears she could see oren have the slightest smile and head-bumping along to the music.

to wrap it all up, they would ALL HAVE THE NUMBER 13 PAINTED ON THEIR HANDS IN DIFFERENT COLORS AND FONTS!!

and also a little extra because me and nova were having big brain moments and i HAVE to include it, it would be a crime if i didn't

They would all scream to paper rings but guess what else?? a PROPOSAL!!

my nashlibby brainrot needed to be included even more:

"i love shiny things but id marry you with paper rings" is so them because even tho they're rich, they value the little things <3

libby is so into the performance, it takes her a minute to realize that the stage screen is on her

she's confused because why would the cameras be on her??

and then taylor would point just behind her to where nash was on one knee

the ring wasn't shiny, it was literally a paper ring

nash didn't have a full on speech planned out

but of course libby would say yes

they kiss, it's on the big screen and everyone (taylor, backup dancers, everyone) cheers

it was caught on camera by practically everyone which leads to their engagement going viral all over tik tok and other media platforms!!

after the concert, back at Hawthorne House, they made a resin/epoxy(i think that's what it's called) mold to preserve the ring, and keep it from getting damaged

and the end because not only can i not think of anything else, but it's 4am while i save this to my drafts-

p.s. huge thank you again to @nutellani, you helped me with this so much when i was having a brain block. you have wonderful input, and i owe you big time!!

(majority of how we got more ideas was thru incoherent fangirling over taylor and tig haha)

[queen--kenobi]

Okay so my writing brain isn't working right now but. I want to try and stimulate it. So have some HCs of Tyland x sugar baby!reader

Modern AU, under the cut for slight NSFT

Tyland only signs up initially on the site for two reasons. 1) it'll get Jason to quit trying to set him up with people. Partially because it's annoying and partially because Jason doesn't exactly take into account Tyland’s type. 2) he's about at the age he's either got to find a sugar baby or a long-term gf/wife. Or come out as gay (listen idk why this man gives me bi energy)

Tyland is ruthless in his search for the perfect sugar baby. He does have a couple initially who are more what people would expect from him? Because people sorta assume "oh well someone who's looking for a sugar baby is looking for a vapid bimbo type". So Tyland does have a couple initially but they're not what he's looking for

Until he sees your profile. He's intrigued because you seem a little different. You are trying to pay for school, which isn't uncommon, and you seem to have a fairly good head on your shoulders. He goes back and forth with you, and he finds he enjoys talking with you

Tyland starts with little gifts. He's sort of wary of being taken advantage of (hypocritical? Probably). He starts by sending you bracelets and earrings and necklaces when you get good grades on tests. It's his way of testing the waters

Eventually, he meets you in person. It's very covert and in a place that makes you feel comfortable. Tyland doesn't want either of you to be mobbed by random paparazzi. They don't follow him around, but his name does draw attention

Tyland enjoys your company far more than he expects to. The two of you end up staying and talking longer than he thought you would

After the initial meeting, Tyland begins to find excuses to see you more often. He also sends more gifts to you. Has a bad day? He's sending your favorite flowers to you that day, and then the next day you're getting a custom Tiffany bracelet with matching earrings.

Obviously he ends up getting you your own penthouse. That's just a given

The two of you sort of fall into a more physical aspect naturally, but full on intimacy doesn't come for a bit

What breaks the dam is a fancy event Tyland brings you with him. It's the first time he's brought you with him to an event like this, and it's an overnight trip

Tyland doesn’t just buy you a dress and heels. He buys you everything. I'm talking jewelry, shoes, clothes. He even buys the lingerie you wear for the event

Yes, it's red. It's red with lace and garters and stockings and a corset. It's got gold hooks and clips. Yes it's Lannister colors what else did you expect

The two of you spend the event teasing each other, pressing against boundaries. What makes it all the more fun is that since everyone thinks Tyland is boring. No one even thinks the two of you could be teasing each other under the table

[80yearoldmanmoodboard]

How does Davy go about coming out about his gender in the glam au? 👀

Boy am I glad you asked! So first I wanna talk about how he realizes he’s genderqueer which all comes from Micky convincing him to do the Glam Rock fits for a show.

Davy does the sorta androgynous glam rock stuff, he gets his makeup done, and he assumes that everyone feels a little euphoric when they get their makeup done and put on nice clothes. He didn’t think anything of it until he talks about how he understands why girls will go out and pamper themselves because when he feels like such a pretty princess when he’s all dolled up. Micky and Mike sorta laugh off his phrasing at first assuming he was joking about enjoying feeling like a pretty princess but after making enough comments like that Mike decides to take him aside and ask him about what he really means by that. In that moment Davy realizes it’s not actually normal for guys to want to be a pretty princess and he sorta spirals for a bit having lived so much of his life under the assumption that EVERYONE felt like they had to choose to dress in their assigned gender and that everyone guy had to make a conscious effort to not act in traditionally feminine ways. He tried at first to assign this difference to his sexuality but eventually realizes it really is his gender that’s causing this feeling. Davy doesn’t come out in like a straight forward way, mostly because he isn’t confident that he’s actually right and not misidentifying whats going on, and instead just asks if they think it’d be a good look for the band if he started wearing more feminine costumes too. His friends sorta get what’s happening because they’ve seen and talked to Davy about his gender crisis a lot over the years but Davy credits his coming out as when he first preformed in a feminine costume and felt this insane build up of euphoria during the show and then backstage told Micky and Mike that he thinks he’ll keep doing this even off the stage (this being dressing feminine) and this results in Davy being accidental publicity because news in the late 70s is really curious as to why this guy is so casually wearing “girl clothes” out in public.

Davy’s public image when they started blowing up is that he’s one of those gender non conforming men in rock (like David Bowie style) and while the public doesn’t know about him being genderqueer they are very aware of him being a gender non conforming glam rocker. Mike and Micky are very supportive of his dressing however he wants even though they tend to save the glam stuff for the stage and during big public appearances (Davy is the only one of them that will occasionally wear makeup just out and about but usually only on days where he’s very feminine and/or feeling dysphoric about looking masculine.) Davy doesn’t really have a word to describe what his gender is but he does try to explain to Mike and Micky that it’s not just how he dresses it’s like how he is. Davys really open to Mike and Micky about his gender but always tries to act macho when he’s doing interviews and making appearances because he’s really nervous about what’ll happen if any of this gets out.

One of the first things Peter asks Davy about when they’re back on speaking terms is the way he dresses and Davy at first just snaps at him (because he still doesn’t really feel like he can trust Peter again yet) but the turning point of their relationship is represented by Davy coming out to Peter (who spent most of his time away from them on the queer scene in New York so he ends up understanding what Davy means a lot faster than Mike and Micky did)

[tokuvivor]

For the platonic sentence starter “that sounds dangerous, I’m in!”

Alright! Works for me! And since you told me dealer’s choice, I’m going with…Della and Launchpad!

I give you…

It’s a Long Way to the Top

Originated from this post.

“-and flags. Check! Alright, I’m ready to go.”

Launchpad was ready to head off to the Junior Woodchuck Lodge, when Della walked past, curious about why he was wearing his troop leader uniform.

“Hey Launchpad. Where are you off to?”

“Oh! Hey, Ms. D,” Launchpad replied. “I’m going out to the lodge to set up for next week’s Junior Woodchuck Wilderness Challenge.”

“You’re going all the way out to the lodge, so you can set up a bunch of flags along a treacherous course where kids have to duke it out to hopefully become a Senior Woodchuck by the end of it?” reiterated Della.

“Yes…” Launchpad replied cautiously.

“That sounds dangerous. I’m in!” Della responded.

“I mean, I don’t think I really need any help for this-aaaaand you’re hugging my leg.” Launchpad looked down, and the motherly pilot had indeed wrapped her entire body around Launchpad’s leg.

“Please?” Della pleaded.

“Well, okay,” Launchpad relented. “I could use the company, anyway!”

“Great!” Della chirped. “I’ll go put on my uniform!” And she zipped off towards her room.

Launchpad always enjoyed being a Woodchuck troop leader. Especially for some of his younger friends. And he did appreciate Della’s help, both with taking a lot of the load off him as a pilot and with Woodchuck stuff.

Not two minutes later, Della skidded back out in front of him, dressed in her Woodchuck uniform, backpack on her shoulders. “Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go!”

Even though she was a couple decades removed from her Junior Woodchuck days, Della couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement whenever she entered the grounds of the Woodchuck Lodge. The smell of mountain air, all the memories she had amassed at the lodge, the thrill of looming adventure (if she was lucky).

“Ahhhhhhhhh!” she sighed when she and Launchpad arrived. “Smell that air!”

“Smells kinda neutral to me,” noted Launchpad. “But then again, it’s got that sorta quality to it that I just like, I guess.”

“What sort of quality?”

“Clean, calm, pleasant. I think it’s some sort of French term that’s what I’m looking for,” waxed Launchpad.

“I think you’re right,” Della responded. “Ah, we can ask Huey about it when we get back.”

“Speaking of Huey,” Launchpad commented, “how does he feel about getting another shot at this whole Senior Woodchuck thing?”

“He’s a little nervous, but I think he’s ready,” answered Della. “He’s already had two goes at this, and I think the third time could be the charm for him.”

“You’re not still resentful about two years ago, right?” Launchpad wondered.

“Pffft! Nah, of course not,” Della smirked. “Violet deserved that ish; I was just being a total Woodchuck mom. Besides, it’s a stupid thing to still be worked up over two years after the fact. Was over and done for me pretty quickly.”

Launchpad breathed a sigh of relief. “Good,” he grinned. “I figured, but I just wanted to confirm.”

The two got out of the Jeep, and headed towards the woods, flags in tow. Launchpad pulled out a list.

“What’s that?” Della asked.

“A list of the various places we have to place the flags,” Launchpad answered.

“But don’t you sorta have it committed to memory at this point?” Della questioned.

“Well, yes, but just in case,” Launchpad admitted, shaking the paper a bit. “Besides, keep in mind who you’re talking to.”

“Oh, you are not that bad!” scoffed Della. “Besides, I’m sure we could bang this out pretty easily together.”

“Really?” Launchpad questioned.

“Really. I could do this in my sleep, even. Keep in mind that I was a Senior Woodchuck, myself,” Della noted. “Got my sash on these very grounds.”

“Alright,” Launchpad replied. “Let’s do it.”

So the two entered the forest, ready to lay out the first flags on the course. It would start out easy, but gradually get more difficult. Della and Launchpad anticipated this, so they each had pickaxes, rope, and harnesses in tow. Eventually, they had to scale a rocky cliff, which led towards the volcano.

“Doesn’t get much easier at this point as I get older,” commented Launchpad. “Especially since I’m much bigger than the kids.”

“Hold on,” Della replied, and before Launchpad could respond, Della scaled past him, carefully minding where her hands and feet were, until she was close to the top.

Launchpad looked confused.

“Okay, scale out towards here!” Della called back.

“Um, okay?” Launchpad called back, confused. He scaled along the rock face, making sure not to fall. Once he got close enough to Della, she steadied herself on top of the ledge, swinging the rope out for Launchpad to grab. She then watched him carefully as he climbed up, pulling in the rope as he did so. Eventually, he got to the top, where Della grabbed his hand (she could only really grab onto one with both of hers) and pulled him onto higher ground.

“Oof! Thanks,” grunted Launchpad.

“No problem,” Della replied. “Now, how far along is that volcano?”

“Not too far,” Launchpad answered. “Along…this way.” He pointed out a narrow path.

Pretty soon, Della and Launchpad could feel the air getting hotter and thicker, and they knew they were close.

“I see it!” Della shouted.

And sure enough, just up ahead, in all its burning glory, was the volcano.

The duo’s pace quickened until they got to the bridge. Della took a deep breath.

“Crap, it’s been years since I’ve been up here,” she remarked.

“If you keep your eye on the other side,” commented Launchpad, “it’s easier to contend with.”

Della nodded, stepping onto the bridge. Her legs wobbled, but she forged ahead, with Launchpad just behind her. A few minutes later, they were at the other side.

“Aaaand that’s it,” said Launchpad. “We’ve made it to the last checkpoint.”

“Woo!” cheered Della, high-fiving Launchpad excitedly. “Soooo…how do we lower this thing?”

“Like this,” Launchpad answered, sliding a stone on the side of the marker. Suddenly, the stone pillar they were standing on descended into the lava.

“Do you get how we don’t get hurt by the lava when this thing goes down into it?” Della asked.

“I still don’t,” Launchpad admitted.

Before they knew it, they had descended into the cave below the volcano. They both had fond memories of this place: Launchpad honoring his younger friends, and Della cheering on Huey in his previous bids for the title of Senior Woodchuck. Even in defeat, he kept a positive attitude.

The duo stood there, taking it all in.

“Never gets old, Ms. D,” Launchpad remarked.

“I can see how it doesn’t,” Della agreed. “Oh, boy, I can’t wait for next week.”

“Huey’s gonna be fine,” commented Launchpad. “He’s been working really hard at this over the past year.”

“I know,” Della replied. “I’m so proud of him.”

“Me, too,” Launchpad admitted. “So, yeah. That’s it. Thanks for helping me out with this, Ms. D.”

“Hey, thanks for giving me an excuse to get out of the mansion,” shot back Della. “Let’s find the exit, shall we?”

“Sounds good.” And the two friends, adrenaline still pumping, headed down a passageway towards the mouth of the cave.

[gren-arlio]

Olympics ain't until next year, so let's talk about the objectively cooler one. Welcome to Episode 9 of (Waku) Puyo Extras.

(Always liked how the characters are drawn when they're small. Oh, and the lad next to Satan? That's Rasp, and I believe they don't have a set gender. Least from what I heard from the EPPC.)

Hello one and all, it's the guy who's harassed by Witches (or just a single Witch) all day, every day without fail. Seriously, outta anyone in the world, it's the dude with the Yosuke pfp, it really does run in the Persona Bro archetype to have wack ass luck. (World's worst crackship)

Silly stuff aside, welcome to the 9th episode of Waku Puyo Extras, and if you've been following for a bit, nice to know you've stuck around, and for new guys, it's fine, there's no continuity. Im just late posting this.

This time around, we're talking about PuyoLympics, and I hear you wondering, "Didn't you say you'll talk about Arle's Travel Log last time?" And you're absolutely right, I did. However, it's kinda hard to find footage for the game itself, and I do need extra time, so we'll cover it next time. Curse these games for being niche.

I'm glad PuyoLympics isn't as niche as the others we'll cover some other time (Madou Sugoroku is going to be awful to find footage for,) and I've had this on my backlog, we may as well cover it now, yeah?

So let's cut to the chase, shall we? Not having a tiny video to translate does feel weird still, but otherwise, hope you enjoy.

-----

So, What's the Origins?

Like Serilly's Happy Birthday, PuyoLympics was also a Disc Station game, released in 1997 for PC. Is it safe to say that PC got more games can console players?

(Not exactly the coolest looking start screen, but the opening itself was pretty cool.)

What's interesting about this game is that there's...two versions of it. Well, sorta. PuyoLympics in Basa~ru is technically a sequel, but it's more of a minigame from the original, so there's that. (Covered an entire game in one paragraph.)

The game itself is a sports game, yeah, but it's also somewhat a collection of minigames as well. Think those Mario Party sports minigames, but Puyofied and also you only can choose 2 characters.

-----

Alright, So What's the Story?

It begins as usual, to be honest. Satan is cooking up devious shit again but he somewhat wants to have a twist. In the meantime, Arle and Witch are arguing (leaving even the narrator a tad confused,) about Arle being unathletic.

(The peak of this argument. Words I can't even say.)

They then stumble upon a flyer, stating basically "Yo the Olympics are starting. Win to get a wish." and to settle their scores, Arle and Witch compete, along with a couple of other guys we can't play as, notably Rulue, Draco, and Schezo.

Satan decides that everyone will duel for the prize itself, though you only really play as the two girls. But to get in spirit, he dresses up as a coach to fully begin the thing.

(For some reason, all the footage I got were on Witch's side, even with looking on NicoNico. It was legimately hard to find footage for Arle. However, I do know both their endings, at least.)

For Arle's ending, Satan does say that she can indeed make a wish. However, Arle's unsure of what she should even do, and settles for...losing weight. In which Satan gives her...whatever is shown on the bottom.

(Seriously, what is this? They say it's a magician training cast but...I dunno, man.)

And how about Witch's ending? Well, Satan gives her the choice of whatever she wants, and she's also kinda unsure. However, unlike Arle, she has too MANY wishes to have, and Satan gets absolutely fed up and leaves, angering Witch. And you know what? Good on you, Satan.

-----

So, How's the Gameplay?

Gameplay itself is compressed of several minigames that you play as either Arle or Witch. The Olympics are a big deal after all.

Some of the events are things like the Meter Dash (I'd assume 100,) swimming, and...one game where you smack Puyos aside. I can't explain that one well.

Though in the swimming one, other characters appear at the very least.

(The whole squad came to cheer you on. You can't tell me they're not good friends.)

The games themselves are fairly short, and usually range about the 40 seconds to about a minute or so, they ain't called minigames for nothing. Still, there's some enjoyment itself with playing them.

-----

How About the Visuals and Characters?

Visually, least in my opinion, the game looks really good, and the OST itself is up to par with the series as a whole. Every character looks fairly well made to boot. Good on ya Compile.

And how about the characters themselves? Well...thankfully, they're fairly retained to what we're used to. Let's talk about the main two.

-----

Arle:

Our 2nd favorite girl Arle is roughly the same that we usually know her of. Here, she's still pretty dang cheerful thankfully, though with the argument with Witch and the whole going to the Olympics thing to settle their score...it's not petty, I swear.

However, something I want to note is that (supposedly not) due to Witch's comments about her being unathletic does actually kind of stick with her, as her wish is to lose weight...even if Satan kinda went the weird route to help change that. At least it shows she does have insecurities. (Seriously, what the hell is that armor going to do?)

And hey! If you play her route, Rulue makes an appearance early on, as well as Draco, who's sporting her outfit from Puyo SUN.

(Why are Rulue pants so different anyways? Still, it's nice to see her and Draco appear, even if she's more-so just a conversation with Arle and another for Witch.)

-----

Satan:

Ah, good old Satan. Never fails to just being a stupid idiot that we love. He's the whole reason why this Olympic thing began, and he's somewhat embracing it. Due to image limits (Yes, I plan the image routes ahead of time,) I can't show...In photos.

Here's a link to it. May as well, since it's so relevant.

He's a blast to actually hear and listen to. I genuinely like this version of Satan. And he even got turned into stone from a comment once. Now THAT'S comedy. I wouldn't say he carries the game, everyone does their part, but I gotta say that he's easily one of, if not the best, written character in this game.

-----

Witch:

As per the Gren Norm, I got so much more to say about Witch because...if the meme told you anything, she's definitely out there. The whole Olympic thing somewhat escalated due to Witch insulting her over being unathletic, which I mean...ouch.

If you play her route, you actually get a cameo appearance with our boy, the 2nd big guy in this Tumblr blog, Schezo Wegey. And if you know me, I'm gonna explain what happens. (At this point I document every misdeed this girl does)

So, Schezo comes into the frame wearing his Puyo SUN outfit as well, and while Witch says hello and why is he here, immediately labels him as a pervert after he claims he wants Arle again and also wants to win the Olympics.

(Silly Schezo. You're not playable.)

Witch then asks to take off his cape, because he looks like a pervert when he does...and low and behold, he actually does it, shocking her.

And frankly, I'd be surprised also. However, as none of us predicted, Schezo says if she's gonna laugh, to just do it. But she doesn't. Rather, she compliments him. A lot.

(If you've seen the meme, she's basically saying that he has a nice physique for his title, and that he has really healthy skin.)

Schezo asks if she's okay, (she's not) and she yells that he's wonderful/beautiful, causing our boy to think that she's gone insane and runs.

And she chases after him.

(Welcome to my ""Job"". Went from knowledge and Schezo to Knowledge, Schezo, and a lot of documenting of Witch and Arle. You signed up for this.)

Good on Schezo for taking the initiative and actually just leaving...well, more like run away, but good on him.

-------

So...Final Verdict?

The verdict is fairly simple honestly. Elementary, even. The game itself is a very charming game, with a really nice OST, artstyle, and even character writing to an extent. Every character is just fun to read ok and listen to, and it's nice to see such a silly concept be done fairly well.

-----

And For Those Wondering About Arle's Travel Log And Updates Overall:

Don't worry, I got it planned. I'm writing it, I didn't forget it. It's just footage is hard to come by and I want to make this the best I can. And besides...I'm making a Halloween special. I gotta.

And after that special, I plan to take a week or two off to relax. Then...idk, we try to translate Arle's Route of Waku Puyo Dungeon. The Waku part of Waku Puyo Extras will become real AGAIN...

Then, I'll take a break during New Years/Christmas. I don't want to risk burnout. But that'll be all for this time.

See y'all another time.

[emeritus-fuckers]

Hi, here's my application for the match up event!!!

1. Identity

I'm one of those they/thems, genderqueer femme, irl a lesbian (but I like fictional men, my only exception)

2. Who do I like

Anyone! I just like seeing all the possibilities

3. What I look like

I'm fat, and slowly learning to love myself about it, goth at the intersection of victorian and romantic, light skin mixed/ black, my natural hair color is dark brown/black, mid back length and the left side is bleached pale blonde. Brown eyes, lots of piercings (septum, medusa, snake bites, bridge, nipples, getting tongue, belly button, dimples and anti-eyebrows eventually) a few tattoos, more to come eventually. I have a beauty mark under my left eye that people have always complemented me on since I was kid so I'm pretty fond of it, I like to draw a heart or star over it when I do makeup.

4. Personality

Isn't this always the tough one... I'm quiet but not necessarily shy. I prefer to watch people than directly interact but I'm really friendly and like making friends. I'm the mom friend in that I like to take care of people despite usually being the youngest in the group. I was always the old soul until I was diagnosed as autistic and went "oooh. Yeah ok that makes sense." I find weird-ish things cute, like snakes and vultures, and advocate for people embracing their weirdness and living their truth.

5. Interests

my main interests are horror, video games, medical history, true crime (namely cults and odd events) and cooking. I love to read, go on long drives, go to aquariums or museums, go to the beach, collect bones, and spend a lot of time studying occult practices across the globe. Personally, I'm a cross between a luciferian and a Rökkatru practitioner, but I'm very lax about it.

6. Trivia!

I used to want to be a forensic anthropologist when I was a little kid, now I'm working towards becoming an author. I only realized I was bullied in high school when I was in my early 20s. I have ptsd induced nightmares, but they're getting better. I do burlesque dancing, my favorite part is the costumes! I'm physically disabled and walk with a cane, it makes me feel like a cool old man for some reason.

- emoji so I can find it when you post ♡ 🐍

Your match is... Sid E. Burns

While he's not one for fashion (his fashion sense ends on things being either "cool" and "shitty"), he does like the way you dress.

You're the overdressed one while he's the underdressed one. He dresses like he's homeless. You look incredible together.

He likes your piercings, but he does lightly pick on them to annoy you sometimes. Lovingly, of course.

He likes your hair, he makes little braids on the bleached side.

Also, he loves that you're big. In his words, fat people are best nap buds. Great to use as a soft pillow or a cool, heavy and warm blanket.

He's good for nightmares, cuddles them right out of you. He knows you're not okay when it happens.

He's got a loud, solid heart, so his heartbeat is very, very soothing.

And he's a good cuddler. He's got you.

He's an atheist, but he doesn't really get in between you and your religion, as long as you don't get on his ass about it.

He'll watch the horror movies with you and watch you play your games while he just sorta chills around you.

He likes seeing you enjoy your stuff, even if he sometimes teases you about collecting bones, comparing you to Tom.

He has a pet tarantula, so if you're into spiders, you're gonna love Betty.

He will make pervy comments about your dancing. Feel free to punch him for it, he's an idiot sometimes.

~

Written by Nosferatu.

[girlboylaurens]

prompt #379

this is (sorta) based on @pluralprompts's prompt #379 ("Write about a system buying a new jacket!). pluralprompts is the best we appreciate pluralprompts in this house

this is 665 words so it's under a cut! this is part of a larger au but we haven't written literally anything else sooooo hope y'all enjoy these contextless sibling feelings/gender feelings/plural feelings. pure self indulgence here tbh

--

This hadn’t been the plan. It wasn’t a good use of her time, or particularly responsible, or even in-character. But she’d come home after two straight hours at the library, arguing with Candace Rowe of all people about their group project on symbolism in the Great Gatsby, and found Araminta singing in the attic, so it had made sense at the time, when she proposed it.

Araminta’s just so sad so much of the time, is all, and Lizzie hasn’t known she existed long enough to be a particularly good sister to her. Besides, John (she supposes she should call him that, now) wouldn’t have had the patience to spend this long wandering around the yellowing hallways of their local mall. He certainly wouldn’t have been so happy to be there. The last of the voices echoing in the back of Lizzie’s skull quiet their insistence that this is all lies and witchcraft as she watches Araminta spin around in front of the mirror, a vine-patterned cotton skirt flaring around her ankles. She’s laughing, and her voice is John’s but at the same time it’s foreign and new, expressing an alien joy. Some small part of Lizzie wants to hug her, but then she’d have to stop twirling.

The changing room is crowded; it’s not really meant for two bodies and the mountain of clothes they’ve dragged in. Araminta’s haul is spilling off the bench, flowing dresses and lacy skirts crammed next to Lizzie’s stack of neatly folded clothing. She hasn’t started trying anything on yet, content to watch her sister sparkle with happiness.

It’s an interesting inversion, she thinks, running her hands over the jackets and trousers she’d chosen. A few years ago, she’d done her best to clean up nice, to look pretty; she’d learned to do makeup, to put together pretty-girl outfits, to braid her hair in seven different styles, and then almost as soon as she’d learned it finally found she didn’t want any of the glamour anymore. But then again it wasn’t all a waste, wasn’t? She has another twin now, a sister to teach, to make sparkle. She’s got someone to sit with in a tiny changing room in a deteriorating shopping mall, a companion other than the voices humming away at the back of her head. She’s got someone who will understand.

At random she chooses a jacket and pulls it on over her t-shirt. It’s dark denim with dull gold contrast stitching, and fits well, loose and baggy in all the right places and long enough to contain a truly astounding number of pockets. She spends a few moments poking her hands into all the pockets she can find, not even bothering to look in the mirror. The inside is fleece-lined, and there’s another pocket (zippered, even!) on the inside, just over her heart. Unless she looks like shit or it costs two hundred dollars, she’s getting it.

Araminta stops spinning and shakes her hair out of her face (Lizzie should find a comb or a ribbon or something, to keep it out of the way). When she’s finally got a clear field of vision, she studies Lizzie with that unnervingly unreal gaze of her, then gasps, pressing her hand over her mouth. “Liz! Where’d you get that?”

She shrugs. “I think you were looking at that poppy dress when I found it. Does it…”

It’s not clear even to herself what she’s asking. Does she look good? Does she look like herself? Has it made her someone else, someone stronger, someone she’d rather be? The voices are murmuring, but she can’t understand what they’re saying. One of them is playing scales.

“You look great,” says Araminta, without hesitation. “Handsome,” she adds after a moment, and there are sparks under Lizzie’s ribs, an unaccountable joy welling up in her. "Your collar’s crooked, here, look.” With a swish of her skirt, she moves to the side so Lizzie can see the mirror. “Fix that.”

Everything goes quiet. Lizzie looks. She can’t look away.

[udurghsigil]

8, 16, 22, 14 for jude and 27 and 29 for violet <33333333

for jude! 8. Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them? i don't think he's much of a puzzle guy in the first place, but he does like a challenge! if you gave him one to solve i think he would simply enjoy the process of attempting to work it out even if he never finds the solution. he's a very simple guy.

14. Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any? he's the type who thinks that if you're feeling guilty it means you did something wrong (or are hiding something), so naw he doesn't like the term. but he does have some... ironically his guiltiest pleasure is probably just time spent alone, without violet... he may be madly n obsessively in love with her but everybody needs their alone time, right? (note: he never started Wanting free time until he was able to trust that violet wouldn't just run off and leave him for good.)

16. If money wasn't a limit, what would they wear? jude doesn't really pay much attention to what he's wearing but if he had the money for it, he'd probably be mad into techwear type clothes, especially techwear pants. still with that punk edge though. he'd also have a lot more accessories - lots of spikes and studs, think bunlith level accessorizing. he'd probably have some more piercings too!

22. Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What's their go-to? he would LIKE to be called pet names but isn't… violet calls him very degrading things which he just sorta accepts as pet names (delusional) he also would LIKE to call violet pet names but it makes her mad/digusted most of the time. he's able to get away with "dove" though… "my precious dove…" as for violet....

27. Forgiveness or vengeance (or...)? violet has never chosen forgiveness a day in her life. it has ALWAYS been about vengeance for her because in her eyes she's always the victim. albeit it used to just be petty revenge when she was still a teenager, never to the popular mean highschool bully level bc she kept it on the down low. but these days, after she ended up with jude, her revenge plots tend to get . Elaborate.

29. What recurring dreams do they have? she's pretty much had this exact same recurring dream ever since she was around 11 years old: she's in high school, with platinum blonde hair, and wearing a long red dress that touches the floor. it's during the day while school is in session, but nobody is moving. they're all just frozen in place, staring at her, their eyes following her wherever she goes, but it doesn't unsettle or upset violet at all. she's barefoot and walking around the school looking for someone she knows. once she makes it to the gym she realizes she might have left her shoes in the locker room, but there isn't a girl's locker room, only the boy's. but she thinks they might be in there, so she opens the door and walks in. it's completely dark and as soon as she takes her first few steps in, the door slams shut - she doesn't check but she knows its locked, so she's just trapped there in the darkness. she stands there for about a minute, frozen in place, and eventually hears the sounds of boys laughing all around her - but she can't see them. and then right when she thinks something is about to happen she wakes up.