#feel free to tag your stuff or song of choice

[nereidprinc3ss]

Happy 2k babe! I have a request for fluffy Spencer smut based on the song "touch tank" by Quinnie! (the song gives me like golden retriever vibes so maybe you could put something about reader playing with his hair in there? I don't know I'm having later seasons fluffy hair Spencer brainrot and I never make requests, obviously feel free to ignore or change things if this is too specific! <3)

hi angel babe!!! i love this song!! and i too am always having later seasons fluffy haired spencer brainrot!! i wrote this super quick, please let me know if its any good, ILY!!! xo

warnings/tags: fem!reader, softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering, oral f receiving, sorta kinda overstimulation, implicit consent, praise n stuff, not proofread, written at 9 pm on a tuesday night, so fluffy

18+ (smut)

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

Spencer is clearly almost asleep on the couch next to you. That’s one of many things you find endlessly fascinating and charming about him—his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time within minutes. 

So you probably shouldn’t speak. But the stakes are low; it’s barely 7:30 in the evening. 

“Spence?” You whisper. His eyes don’t open, but his thumb goes back to making little passes where it’s settled over your hip. 

“Hm?”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

He smiles, slight but beautiful—yet his eyes remain stubbornly closed. 

“Why not?” 

“’Cause I want you to be awake.” 

“Then you can’t keep playing with my hair like that.”

You pout as if he can see you.

“But I like playing with your hair.”

Spencer hums, and you can tell you’re losing him again as you continue carding your hand through stupidly soft locks. 

“One or the other. You can’t have both.”

“I love you both, though,” you complain. “I don’t know who to pick.”

The grin has been steadily fading from his relaxed face but it flickers back to life for a moment. 

“I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. That should make it easier for you.”

“What?”

It’s the genuine horror in your voice that finally gets him to open his eyes. A little line appears between his brows as he regards you with bleary eyes. 

“What what?”

“You didn’t consult me!”

The momentarily tensed muscles in his face relax and he rolls his eyes affectionately before craning his neck to kiss your forehead. 

“I’m not in the habit of requesting your approval before I make choices like that.”

“Spencer, please don’t cut your hair,” you beg, genuinely distraught. “You can’t. It’s so so pretty.”

“It’s too long, baby. I don’t want to grow it out again.”

“You don’t have to grow it out! Just don’t get it any shorter! It’s perfect how it is,” you insist. Spencer narrows his eyes as you plead with him. But you stand firm in your position. His hair is sort of shaggy, sure—too long to be considered cropped and too short to be considered long. It’s like a beautiful curly halo and it’s perfect playing-with length. “I’m serious. I’m asking you to not cut it short, please. This is what I want for my birthday.”

“Your birthday’s not even—”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top? I love your hair so much and I love you more but I just really don’t want you to cut it, please—”

He’s laughing when he silences you with a soft kiss, and you melt, sighing against him as his hand slides up and down the back of your thigh. When he knows you’ve been sufficiently soothed, he pulls away, still smiling. 

“Oh my god, baby—are you about to cry?”

“Stop!” you whine, burying your face into a throw pillow and screwing your eyes shut. Your nose crinkles up with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and though he’s no longer outright laughing, traces of humor still color his lowered voice as he kisses all over the side of your face.  “I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t realize I’d be causing you so much emotional distress if I cut my hair.”

You sniffle away any unfortunate emotional reactions and turn your head back to him. He’s ducked down slightly, still peppering kisses over your jaw and neck, and you lace your fingers through the contentious hair. 

“Obviously I’m not the boss of you. If it makes you uncomfortable I want you to cut it. But I really like it how it is.”

He hums against your throat and the vibrations send a chill down your spine. You arch against him unconsciously. 

“You are definitely the boss of me. I don’t know anyone else who I like receiving orders from so much.”

“Hotch,” you whisper, and you can feel Spencer’s teeth against your neck as he smiles and presses another loving kiss to the sensitive spot above your collarbone. 

“Not the kind of orders I was talking about. And I don’t particularly care what Hotch thinks of my hair, honey.” He kisses tenderly until he earns a tiny whimper from you—which sates him enough to raise his head until you’re eye-level again. His hand, however, has other plans—it creeps south, slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants. “What if we compromise? I just get it trimmed so it doesn’t keep getting in my eyes when I have a loaded gun in my hands, yeah?” You nod dutifully, looping your arms around his neck as his fingers dip beneath your underwear. When you don’t reply verbally, he prompts meaningfully, “okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, voice small as you look into his searching eyes. 

For a few moments, when he finally pushes his fingers against your clit and begins rubbing with slow, gentle strokes, his eyes are everywhere on your face—then they focus back on your eyes, watching with that habitually intense interest permeated with a sense of devotion—like he wants to see exactly what pleasure looks like reflected in your irises. Like he could see through them to your brain and watch your dopamine transmitters working overtime. A soft moan escapes through parted lips, which seems to spur Spencer on. He drags more arousal over your aching bud and openly chuckles at your airy sigh of pleasure, unable to resist from giving you a short kiss. 

“Feels good?”

“Mhm,” you breathe. 

“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing you again just as quickly before pulling back to study your face once more. “Pretty girl.”

“You’re pretty,” you insist, with what little brain power is available to you as you rake one hand through his hair. He smiles, eyes pinging between your own and your mouth like he can’t decide where to look.  

“I’m pretty?” he asks, speaking over another quiet, yet unabashed moan. You nod, hips bucking slightly off the couch cushion as he speed up the motion of his hand. The grin widens and his soft amber eyes soften further. “You’re so sweet.”

You give him a moan he can’t ignore and he takes it as a signal to slip two fingers into you, sighing in what sounds like relief just as your breath catches. The way he seems to feel your pleasure will never get less erotic. Once he’d explained it—something to do with mirror neurons—but whatever the reason, watching the way his arousal rises with yours is exhilarating. 

A squeaking sound is expelled from your lungs and your whole body tenses, propelling you maybe an inch upward involuntarily. 

His lips part the same as yours—but only allowing another dry laugh to pass between them. 

“Relax. I’ll come to you.”

You hum as he leans down and kisses you back into the pillow—a proper kiss, this time, lips parted and the tip of his tongue grazing yours—all the while, still pumping his fingers much deeper than your own could ever manage. Each moan and gasp he allows you to release freely, only barely parting from your lips every few seconds to let you breathe and make your noises. When his fingers begin pumping faster, and you can hear it, you whine, knees clamping shut as the small of your back jumps away from the couch. 

“Fuck,” you pant against his lips. 

“Need you to keep your legs open, baby,” Spencer reminds you gently, giving you a peck and a moment to relax as his hand stills. 

“I don’t think I can,” you admit shyly, still wriggling. “Um, can you—can you use your mouth, please?”

Your boyfriend chuckles again and your cheeks get warmer. Momentarily you allow yourself to be grateful that his face is pressed too close to your own for him to be really be looking at you. 

“You still have to keep your legs apart for that.”

“I know. It’s easier when—when you’re not inside.”

The smile in Spencer’s voice when he replies gives you butterflies as if he’s not knuckle deep in you already. 

“I bet you think that’s true.”

“It is!” you whine. 

“You’ve never had your thighs wrapped around your head so tightly your ears pop, have you?”

“That did not happen.”

“Only once,” Spencer reassures you. “And I happen to like your thighs. So no harm done. Go lie down on the bed.”

You let out a small chirp as he withdraws his fingers from you and your waistband snaps back into place against your skin. 

“Where are you going?” you ask suspiciously, once you’re on semi-steady feet and watching him rise from the couch too. At once he kisses your forehead and grabs your ass—the contrast is dizzying. 

“To wash my hands,” he says, popping the fingers that were just in you into his mouth like a preliminary clean up. “Go,” he urges, jutting his chin in the direction of the bedroom door. You hang from him just a second longer, biting back a smile, before tearing yourself away and only half-skipping to the bedroom. 

Only a moment or two after you flop joyfully down on the mattress, he appears in the doorway again, immediately noticing the way you’re practically vibrating with excitement and unable to hide your grin as he approaches. It seems the smile is contagious—he’s sporting one of his own as he climbs over you. 

“You’re adorable,” he murmurs toothily, kissing you once and then speaking again, “I love you so much.”

It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel all soft and shy and giddy and speechless—even as he gives you one more parting kiss and then is sitting up to slide your pants off. 

Maybe even especially then. 

The sweetness dissipates only a little, still hanging thick in the air as you kick your bottoms off, and he leans back down, pushing your shirt over your chest and pressing kisses to your ribs and down your tummy. He doesn’t waste much time, only taking one brief detour to suck a mark and sink his teeth into your inner thigh until your breath catches loud enough to appease him. Then it’s all easy—his cool fingertips trailing up and down the backs of your thighs as he kisses all over and around your core. Intimacy with Spencer is definitely a spectrum, and while you can always feel the depth of his love for you in every touch, right now it’s so tangible, so potent you can feel it in your teeth. 

You coo when one of the kisses finally sticks, lacing your fingers through the hair you love so much and pushing it out of the way as he laps gently at you. He looks as beautiful as always in the golden hour light as it filters through the window, but you’ve always thought he’s just that extra bit prettier when he’s eating you out. 

Visually you’re entranced—it’s only when he begins easing you into the deep end with the flicking of his tongue that your brow knits and you gasp. 

“Spencer,” you whisper, and it melds into a louder gasp. “Baby.”

He hums into you, reaching around your thigh to grab one of your wrists. You allow him to drag your hand from his hair and intertwine your fingers, his hand on top of yours, pressing them against your stomach where he sweeps his thumb back and forth over your knuckles.

The display of tenderness only makes you ache deeper in your belly, singing in airy, open-mouthed praise for him with a moan you know he would describe as pretty. Spencer says things like that often. He always talks about you like you’re an art form. When it comes to talking about touching you, he’s especially poetic. 

When he begins to suckle, your moans get a little more explicit. 

But he likes those ones just fine, too.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, though it’s a little choked, as you writhe just slightly against him. “That’s so good—oh my god.”

The hand that’s not holding yours rapidly changes position—pressing your thigh to the side with his elbow while he slips his fingers inside you once more. 

At that, you really do choke, your body attempting to sit bolt upright but set off balance by the way your hips buck. You moan, loud, lilting, head still lifted to watch as he begins fucking you with his fingers. Your fingers brush through his hair several times before you’re anchoring your hand in it and falling back. 

“Wh—please, baby, I can’t—”

But you can, and you both know it. You always do this; your body sends you signs that you’re over-indulging and fights to escape the stimuli and Spencer has learned to recognize your false flags for what they are. His hand speeds up along with his tongue and you cry out again, fighting to keep your legs open and your hips on the bed as every nerve in your body seems to light up neon. 

“Oh—Spencer I’m gonna come,” you warn, all high pitched and synthesized into one word. He simply hums a long mhm in acknowledgment, and decides at that moment to brush his fingers over that spot inside of you which proves to be exactly the right button to trigger your detonation. 

You can’t help the way you twist then as your orgasm washes you out—jaw dropped as your final keen starts loud, sputters into silence, and melts into an exhausted whine as your hips wind down. Spencer (wisely) adjusts his position, letting go of your hand only so he can sit up as your thighs clamp shut hard. But he’s still pumping his fingers as you writhe, his own mouth hanging open and groaning as you mewl. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, ready to beg him to stop—but as usual, he knows your body better than you do. An orgasm that you had thought was on its way out gets a second life and you can’t even breathe as you feel it so deep within you, pinpointed to one spot of focus, that you have to curl in on yourself, keeling onto your side because it’s simply too intense. 

Either your vision goes black or your eyes are simply closed—regardless, time ceases for an unquantifiable moment, and you come to with Spencer rubbing your back and murmuring your name. 

“What did I do to you?” he laughs, not unkindly.  

Your back arches as mild aftershocks trickle through your system. 

“I don’t know,” you slur. “Dark magic.”

He allows himself to be pulled on top of you once more, and you tangle your hands in his hair again. 

“But you’re okay?” he murmurs, using his dry hand to play with your hair and brush over your cheek. 

“Mhm,” you nod, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then you laugh, sudden and unexpected to both of you. “I think. That was intense. I felt that one in my soul.”

You smile as he exhales a laugh against your skin. 

“Okay,” Spencer sighs after you catch your breath, bumping his nose against yours before sitting up—this time, not allowing you to pull him back down. “I need to take a shower. You should come with me.”

“Five more minutes,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows. 

“But this is your last chance to wash my hair before it’s a whole inch shorter tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you laugh, but it turns deadly serious very quickly. “Spencer, I am not letting you cut a whole inch off your hair. I need that inch.”

“For what?” He snorts. 

You smile big, glad he didn’t see your joke coming for once. 

“Handles! Duh!”

[lampmeeting]

Just a couple weeks until the end of September, so you know what that means!

Kloktober is almost upon us! 🎃🦇

What is Kloktober?: An incredibly zazzy event taking place in October where we celebrate all things Metalocalypse. There’s a prompt for every day of the month to interpret as you see fit! Draw, write, cosplay, make memes, whatever you like - all forms of participation are welcome!

How do I participate?: Make your totally brutal creation inspired by the day’s prompt and post it using the tag #kloktober2024 - it’s just that simple! Post it here, post it to Twitter, post it to AO3, post it to Instagram, wherever you usually post your creative stuff!

But am I allowed to–YUP, ANYTHING GOES! There are no wrong answers during Kloktober! ✨ However you decide to interpret a prompt, it's valid! If you only want to do a few days, or even just manage to do one, that’s also completely valid. Please don't burn yourself out or stress, this is for fun!

What if I don't vibe with one of the prompts? No worries! If there's a prompt that doesn't suit you, please feel free to reach back in time and choose a prompt from a previous year's Kloktober (2023, 2022, 2021, or 2020). And as always, if you have any questions about anything, hit me up!

(plain text version of the prompts are below for anyone who needs them!)

your favorite character

your favorite relationship

horror movie crossover

dressed to kill

use a self-insert or OC

road trip or drug trip

furryklok or demonklok

a favorite headcanon

use someone's parents

bravery or cowardice

inspired by your culture

tattoos or piercings

create-a-skwigelf

use a Halloween treat

one year after AOTD

costume party or sleepover party

use the ghost of a dead character

palling around with another band

what if they never got famous?

Abigail Appreciation Day!

use two character who never met

too much booze or too much sugar

Dethklok as a different music genre

fix them or make them worse

inspired by a metal song

post-apocalypse or cyberpunk

bring back a one-off character

conspiracy theory or propaganda

birthday or funeral

HALLOWEEN!!!

YOUR choice!

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

If your taking requests at the time you get around to seeing this can we get some flirty Keegan? My man needs more love and I'm starving for more stuff with him. Maybe some downtime just cuddling and flirting and being relaxed with his s/o at home. Or perhaps some jealous Keegan, a night out and he doesn't like the way someone keeps eyeing his s/o. Your choice. ❤️

Gentle Worship

Pairing: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

Synopsis: The days when Keegan was home were rare, but always cherished.

Word Count: 5.03k

Warning: Slightly suggestive, pure fluff

A/N: Since these two requests were pretty much the same I combined them, hope you two don't mind. (I'll just tag you, @angsty-microwave, so you'll know right away that I posted this). This is the fluffiest thing I've ever written...Enjoy!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

His arm was wrapped around your waist, tight and gripping you like you would disappear if he let go. The sweeping sensation of his hand was spread over the skin of your abdomen, nestled under your large shirt, and a calloused thumb moves gently back and forth over any available flesh. Just above the swell of your opposite hip, which digs heavily into the mattress, fingers tighten as you shuffle slightly.

It was early – perhaps too early to be awake – but Keegan was nothing if not as constant as the morning birds who sing their songs outside the window every day. Cascading light was just beginning to crest into the shared apartment, rendering your sheer shades useless. 

The only upside to that cheap purchase was that it helped get you out of bed in the morning, even if it was only to find a blanket to throw over the curtain wrack. 

Your boyfriend’s bare chest expands over your back and a silent sigh rustles the strands of your hair. A nose is pressed into your neck, a soft nuzzle leaving the flesh of your lips twitching into a sleepy smile. It was rare you woke up with him still home, but quickly remembered this was his scheduled day of leave. 

“I know you’re awake,” Keegan’s voice blesses your ears, deep and layered with gravel. You wondered if he got any sleep last night; when you went to bed he wasn’t back from work yet. 

The man fixes his grip on you and pulls, and, unbelievably, you end up closer to him. The Ghost presses your form deeply into his body like you were a teddy bear and not a grown woman before he continues. You go willingly, of course, the sheets rippling like water around the two of you as you slide. There was no better space heater than Keegan, and when he touched you, your skin turned to malleable clay.

Smiling, your eyelids keep stubbornly closed as a kiss is pressed into the fabric of his t-shirt you had stolen, just by your shoulder blade. 

“How?” Your voice whispers, lips forming a smirk. How had he known you were awake? The answer was incredibly simple – you already knew it, in fact. But it was better when you heard it from him. 

Keegan grunts, legs intertwined with yours. Sluggish, his free hand goes to circle around under your neck, leeching onto your throat as you sleepily make a noise at the action – not surprised but more annoyed at the jostling of your head. He doesn’t apply pressure, simply grips you and curls his fingers to find that specific place. 

“Pulse,” He says, squeezing for a moment and feeling your heart rate spike before his hand drops like lead. Your face heats, lungs tighten. 

Stifling a small giggle, you bring your limp hand up and grab at Keegan’s digits. You intertwine your fingers with his and pull, flipping his hand over and bending his wrist to an angle so you can lay a quick kiss to the burn scar along his knuckles. 

He had gotten it shielding Ajax, another Ghost, from debris flying off a grenade blast a long time ago. The damage extended down his arm and ended at his elbow – he always said it was ugly, and from then on you had never gone a day without kissing it. Every part of him was damaged, but you had never seen someone as beautiful as Keegan. 

The Ghost shivers at the feeling of your lips, and his breath stills in reverence as you lay another. 

To think he knew you so well he could tell when you had awoken by a small uptick in your veins; hear your heart pulse back to consciousness with his ear pressed to your neck, curled around you so tight you didn’t need a blanket for warmth. 

The man thinks to himself that even if you were a thousand miles away he would always know how you were just because of how much he cared for you. Like some fucked up sixth sense. 

When Keegan was out in the field he often looked at his watch and knew exactly what you were up to – at seven you woke up, made the bed, and entered the kitchen at seven fifteen still in your pajamas. From then on you made breakfast, took a shower, and so on. He could be in a gunbattle with Federation soldiers and his mind would blank when he spies his timepiece.

She’s going on a walk right about now, The Ghost would blink, balaclava bunched over his nose and chin; he would snap back not a mere second later as if he was never distracted.

If anything those moments grounded him – reminded him of what he was going back to when the sting of gunpowder made his eyes burn and his blood thumped with adrenaline. They should have distracted him, made him sloppy, but the thought of you waiting for him turned his focus to razor-sharp. He’s never going to leave you waiting for him for too long, hoping beyond hope that he’s not dead somewhere. 

“Welcome home, Kee,” You whisper against the skin of his wrist, and the man seems to remember to breathe as his heart skips a beat in his ribcage, “I’m glad you’re back.”

Keegan hums, expression softening, and the grip on your hip moves back. His callouses leave goosebumps in their wake, scratching your skin so perfectly as they start a journey to the opposite side of your waist. Traveling, the limb tenses to roll you onto your back with practiced ease. Keegan moves slightly, and you half-open your eyes with a grunt of surprise only to be graced with the blurry view of his toned chest, ivory scars you love just as much as the rest of him on full display. Grey sweats sit loosely around his tapered waist, the string united and tickling your navel as Keegan shifts his weight to be above you, knees pushing your legs open. Slumping forward, his hands land right by your head, crimpling the pillow below you and bringing your adoring attention to his eyes. 

Gun metal blue, with flecks of pure iron near the center – usually hard and cold, they stay half-lidded and weighed down by the early morning; silken in a way only you knew. 

You loved his eyes, how they gave you so much so willingly. It was a feat that others could dream about but never attain as you had. 

Keegan’s black hair is ruffled, the longer bits sticking out in a way that reminded you of a black cat who had just gotten into a fight in the back alley. The rising sun caresses his sharp cheeks and makes playful shadows.

Gawking at him would be an understatement, but it wasn’t like the man wasn’t doing it back to you.

Your body was sagging with fatigue, eyes red at the corners and watery. The shirt that once belonged to Keegan was now claimed as your own, baggy and swamping the sleep shorts you wear as if they weren't even on you. But that wasn’t really a surprise anyways – the shorts were barely sizable enough to be considered attire. 

Keegan wouldn’t have it any other way.

His eyes travel the expanse of your visible throat, how it bobs as you swallow, tongue clicking; going down he grunts lowly as his gaze lands on your bare thighs and the way they spread nicely around his fitted body and allowed him to grip you where he saw fit. 

You were so small compared to him…different. Soft and good. There were times the man was confused as to how this relationship even worked as well as it did because of how starkly contrasted your worlds were. Keegan, when he was away, was silent – so silent people could go days without comment from him unless it was necessary to the mission, so how you got him talking to you at that bar was an utter mystery. 

She’s good, Keegan thinks to himself as he spaces out above you, hands near your head tightening into the pillowcase, Didn’t even realize it was too late ‘til she had me in bed with her.

Just as your body started to squirm with anticipation from how Keegan was admiring you with eyes that bleed lust, his weight suddenly drops on top of you without any warning. Going to press his lower body between your legs, your sleep shorts bunch at the skin of his waist; his arms snake under your shirt - groping at any skin available. You yelp as your eyes bulge but don’t say a word as the Ghost situates himself as a gigantic dog would. A quiet moment passes where you hear the birds outside the window, chirping away and calling to their mates, but then your chest jerks in raspy, delayed, laughter; face wrinkling as warmth floods around your all-encompassed body.  

You were all but disappearing under him like you were never there.

Keegan smirks from where his head is pressed into the crook of your neck, muttering, “Good to be back…Missed ya.’” 

“Hm,” You make the sound in the back of your throat, raising a hand to card your fingers through his hair, “Well, you better have. I made brownies yesterday.”

Itching at his scalp, the man releases a sound akin to a purr, and the grip on you tightens, shoving you down even further into the mattress. By now the sheets had been pressed to the far end of the bed, thrown into a pile you would have Keegan straighten out when he made the bed later. You continue your action on his head as the weighted blanket above you presses light kisses to your sleep-warm skin. 

Keegan pours himself into the action – knowing how to tell you everything without uttering a word. 

It wasn’t long before your eyes started fluttering again, a delicate sigh falling from your lips as Keegan’s nose slides up your pulse point to your sensitive ear. 

“Go back to sleep,” He says, voice so smooth it travels over you like rain and leaves you shivering, “It’s too early for you to be up yet.” 

“M’kay,” You mutter, knocking your head to the side so it lightly connects with his scalp, the strands itching your cheek. He chuckles from over you, and you feel it more than hear it, but nonetheless, it leaves a warm fire in your veins as your breath evens; your lungs suck in careful breaths. 

You don’t notice, but your hand stays pressing Keegan’s head into you, latched onto the ebony of his hair strands like a lifeline. His hands around your waist squeeze once before they fall stationary – pointedly staying still as his heart beats opposite yours. 

And then a slow, steady, silence. 

The birds chirp and the sun rises, but in the bedroom, two lovers fall into a gentle slumber that only they could achieve in each other's presence. A strange phenomenon, really, to find a man like Keegan so eager to disappear into a dream – he rarely had nice ones. But, one could suppose that when he was with you the bad dreams never plagued him as they did in No Man’s Land during extended Ops. 

Because he never uttered a peep as he, in a pure sleep, nuzzled his head deeper into your neck instinctually. 

—

The sun is noticeably more visible, no longer a deep red but rather a goldish-orange that makes it look like the curtains are on fire. There are shadows of flying birds passing by behind the glass, whizzing about to catch insects mid-air before zipping back to their nests; no doubt feeding hungry children. 

Groaning your fingers twitch under the cream-colored comforter pulled up to your chin, and your eyes blink open. There’s a moment where you wonder where the weight on your chest has gone before you realize the absence was much more than a force. 

Where did Keegan go? 

His weight was absent from over you, his defined muscles not heavy on your skin just the way you like. The disappearance of those rough hands carding over your body made you huff, nose scrunching in annoyance. Already you knew he wasn’t in the bedroom or the Master Bath. 

Keegan was always silent when he went about, but when he was home you always found him making more noise so he wouldn’t scare you – walking more heavily, closing the cabinets so they made a small thump, even whistling when coming into a room you were in. There were too many broken mugs in the garbage admittingly but, now, the numbers had all but halted. 

Sitting up, you rub at your eyes before yawning, stretching your arms above your head, and arching your back before feeling the chill of the air invade your now-shed cocoon. Goosebumps rise as you shift your body and throw your legs out, bare feet dancing just above the wooden floors. Before you were about to graze your toes a grating sound from the kitchen stalls you; freezing your body as it leans forward, hands by your hips.

With twitching ears, you look at the slightly ajar door, eyes wide as your head tilts. 

“Keegan?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing.

“Kitchen!” Your boyfriend calls back, and the scraping of a cast-iron pan makes itself known to you. 

Smiling, you look down at the cold floor and come up with an idea to keep as much body heat as possible while also making it to your Lover in record time. Throwing off the remainder of the covers you bolt to the door like a deer, pushing it to the side and squealing as the chill begins to enter your bones. Bouncing, you dash down the hallway laughing with a wide smile before entering the joint living room and kitchen. 

You see Keegan’s bare broad back at the stove, defined build falling to a tapered waist that begs for your legs to be wrapped around it. He still wears those gray sweats, only held up by the swell of his hips. Keegan’s head tilts to the side, listening to your glee as his hand lowers the spatula to rest on the counter. 

What’s she up to this time? He wonders, face blank but eyes crinkling at the sound of your echoing laughter. Keegan loved your laugh – loved it even more when he realized it was only for him to keep.

Taking a step back from the eggs he’s cooking, the man is just about to turn around to see what’s going on, and why you’re running feet are pounding over the floor, but you’re already upon him.

Thumping up the two stairs that separate the kitchen and living room, you dodge the island counter with nimble feet and launch yourself at Keegan’s back. 

Grappling like a koala, the Ghost below you grunts in surprise as your arms wrap around his neck; legs over his waist and locking. Reeling back away from the heated stove top so no one gets burned, Keegan’s hands snap back to your scalp and to your thigh. His eyes widen as he whips his head to the side to stare at you. Shock lives in the deep pools of his iris’.

“What the hell are you–?!” 

Your laughter interrupts his loud exclamation and the boar of a man pauses under you, fingers at your thigh squeezing the flesh like you were going to fall off of him; as if your legs weren’t clasped around him for dear life. Keegan keeps eye contact, raising a brow in mute exasperation.

“You mind tellin’ me why you thought that was a good idea, Doll? One mistake and you would’ve sent me right into the stove.” 

You press your face into the back of his skull, cheeks heating with sheepishness as you nuzzle the strands of his hair, “...The floors were cold…”  

A moment of silence ensues, the sizzling of the eggs in the pan the only sound bouncing off the walls. The nothingness trickles before a jerking motion of the body you hold makes you bounce up and down, hands along your form tightening.

Keegan chuckles velvet-like, eyes crinkling at the edges as a small smile stretches his lips. You, in turn, giggle quietly into his skin, peeling your head back just a smidge to look him in the eye with a mischievous glint. The man turns his head back to the pan and releases the hand from the back of your head, going to grab the spatula with long fingers. His second stays on your thigh, lightly squeezing when you lean farther into his back. 

He shoves down the feelings of delight that your close contact gives him.

“Smells good,” You comment, chin going to rest on Keegan’s shoulder. It was a wonderful thing that your boyfriend was tall – you had a perfect view of everything below you so long as you used him like playground equipment, “I missed you cooking half-naked in the mornings. Gave me a good view and a meal…” Cheekily, you nudge his ear with your nose, “Sometimes both at the same time.” 

You hear the man huff, but the redness that blooms over his ears makes you smirk, half the grip around his neck moving to trail over his Adam's Apple; nails lightly dragging over the scars and burns over his pecks and upper body.

“Careful,” Keegan warns, but the gravel in his voice betrays his enjoyment. As well as the sly tone he takes.

“I am being careful,” You tease, drawing your hand back for stability when Keegan moves to grab the plates from inside the nearby cabinet, “If I was any more careful I’d be you.” 

“You’re makin’ it sound like an insult,” He distributes the eggs evenly, sending you a quick glance out of the side of his eye – the makeup of them back to that regular blank slate but still glazed with care – and raised a brow. 

You have to choke down the whimper in your throat when he stares at you like that.

“Well, how do I put this,” Looking to the side to hide your burning cheeks, you continue, “You’re the only person who could be you, attractively, Love. I think It would induce a heart attack if anyone else acted like you around me.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean, Civ?”

You laugh as Keegan jostles you, shaking his shoulder so you have to grip him tighter around the neck and waist. He scoffs, but a slight curl to his lips tells you everything you need to know. 

The damn bastard likes me hanging off him, You realize, Son of a Bitch. 

But you can’t help the way your pulse sings. 

Grabbing the filled plates, Keegan moves to the island with you still stuck to his back before striding smoothly to grab forks; carrying you like you weigh nothing to him. 

For a man like your boyfriend, you do weigh nothing. 

“Off you get,” Keegan mutters, turning around when he gets back to the island so your backside is just above the countertop, “Careful.”

You release your legs from around his waist, flinching lightly at the chill of the granite as your skin connects, and allow the man to turn around with your fingers still locked together behind his neck. 

“I think you’ve forgotten something,” You lift a brow in expectation, and watch Keegan tilt his head.

“Forgotten? I don’t forget things, Doll,” He says, but steps closer regardless, placing down the forks on the island with a clink before his large hands go to your waist, pressing heavily into the fabric of your shirt, “You’ve confused me with someone else. Hesh, probably.”

“Hmph,” You roll your eyes, “If I remember correctly you woke up first, so it’s your turn, Kee. And Hesh isn’t that bad at forgetting stuff – he remembers Riley’s birthday well enough.” Smirking, you puff out your chest. 

Keegan frowns down at you. 

The man’s grip rapidly travels to your back, forcing you right into him with a dig of his fingers and all you can do is gasp in retaliation. You feel his muscles move and writhe with the action, biceps bulging over your side as they shove into your flesh. 

“Hm,” Keegan grunts from above, and you feel his chest expand against yours because of it. He leans closer so that his breath hits your lips, and utters sarcastically as his eyes bore into you wide ones, “Alright. But only because my girl asked so nicely.”

Keegan moves his hand to grip your chin tight and angles your head up without hesitation, thick digits brushing your skin before his lips descend and encompass yours. 

All of it happened so suddenly that you barely had time to react before he was already groaning into your mouth, guiding your head to the side. Sighing through your nose, your eyes flutter shut as you both move together, and when you dig into the sensitive skin of his neck with your nails you let your teeth graze his plump flesh. 

Pulling at his bottom lip, you revel in the sensation of his palms sliding down your spine, going to tighten a hold over the band of your shorts at the small of your back. He opens his mouth for you, allowing your tongue to meet his own. A deep humming in his chest showed his pleasure.

Keegan could never fully describe how kissing you affected him – how it broke down his psyche to the bare essentials that he would use to make you feel good in turn. It was like trying to describe a drug trip, wanting more with a deep ache in his chest.

This really was the best way to wake up.

Grunting and pulling back for air, you pant as your nose twitches. The scent of the eggs was at your side, tempting your empty stomach like a Keegan was testing your willpower. Smirking when the man’s bitten lip comes into your field of view, your boyfriend moves and puts his forehead against yours. His eyes silently urge you to continue what you were doing moments ago, but you pause.

“I’m hungry,” You say simply, eyes sparkling as your heart bounces inside of you; lungs slowly gaining back the air that Keegan had stolen. Ever the overachiever, he doesn’t even look partially winded. 

The Ghost’s expression shifts, eyebrows turning in at your comment. He mutters, “I can take care of���” 

A finger snaps to his mouth, and you press until the skin bulges out at the sides. Chuckling, you catch Keegan’s fake pouting and less-than-amused expression and use your free hand to ruffle his hair. He scoffs, pulling his head away from your attacking grip.

“For eggs, Keegan Russ.” The man groans quietly, backing up a step, “You perv.” 

Your arms immediately gravitate to one of the forks and a plate, legs still handing off the counter limply.

“Tease,” Your boyfriend mutters before squeezing your thigh and going to grab the milk from the fridge. Smiling, you watch his back as he saunters away, chewing the food he had made for the both of you.

—

“Love?” You call from the living room, digging around in the drawer, fingers sliding over the old vinyl records, muttering the names under your breath before pausing, “Where’s My Way?”

“Frank Sinatra?” The man asks from the office where he was finishing up some reports from Elias. 

Usually, you would be annoyed by the Ghost leader for giving your boyfriend more work to do on his day off, but seeing as it was only a single file this time, you could stave off the fiery phone call to the Captain. 

It’s a good thing Elias’ nice, You think with a furrowed brow, Otherwise, I’d have no problem yelling at him. 

“...Third drawer to the right, fifth down just under Louis Armstrong.”

“Thanks!” Following Keegan’s instructions, your dig around and, sure enough, after passing What a Wonderful World you find the blue sleeve depicting Frank Sinatra’s face and smirk, “There you are, lovely,” Muttering, you close the drawer and carefully peel the vinyl out of the protective layering and walk over to the record player sitting on one of the side tables near the couch. 

Dropping the sleeve on the coffee table, you set everything up just right and place the needle in the groove carefully, making sure not to scratch it. Soon enough the catchy song is wafting out into the air, leaving you nodding your head along to the late ’60s tune. Humming, and feeling quite content, you turn to go and grab a book and wait for Keegan to be done with his work; your comfy pants and sweatshirt hugging you warmly along the way. 

“Thought you hated Sinatra?” Yelping, your heart stutters as your head snaps to the hallway opening, “Called him overrated, if I’m not mistaken.” 

Leaning against the wall, Keegan watches you closely, a black tank top on but still sporting those gray sweatpants. It was like he knew that you loved the way he looked in them. 

“You need a bell, Kee,” You force out a quick breath, frowning over at the man, “You know that? And I did not say I didn’t like Sinatra – that was The Beach Boys.” 

Keegan rolls his eyes but stays where he is, arms crossed as you still hum to the song under your breath. He looks at your clothes, freshly washed hair, and the way the light covers you like a shroud. You looked so simple like that…domestic…he calls the word forward to his mind. 

It was one he never thought he would use to describe a situation he was in – not even when before ODIN was fired over the Western United States. Domestic. Try as he could, being like that with you was far better than anything he had ever experienced. 

You brought him comfort that he would kill to keep. 

Suddenly, Keegan pushes off the wall just as you start to head over to the bookshelf. You had simply expected him to leave and go back to his office; finish those reports so the afternoon could be free. 

“Keegan?” You ask as he continues to stalk forward, your legs halting in turn, “What are you doing?” 

He stops right in front of you as the song meets the high point and his silent feet pause ahead of you. Looking at him strangely, you tilt your head and smile, slightly confused.

He has to finish work…why is he… 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Amusingly creasing your brow, you watch as Keegan tilts his head. He holds out a hand to you, beginning to smirk at the question.

Wasn’t it obvious? 

His eyes were burning again, littered with wells of silver and iron that gleam like stars when the warm light hits them. You’re reminded of a story you were told as a child about an immortal prince of starlight, who waited through every century to find the reincarnated woman he loved – the lady only able to remember their lives together when she looked into his eyes. 

Now, Keegan was no prince. He was far too covered in blood and gore to ever be considered one…but at that moment you swear he came close to one.

“Dance with me, Doll.” Your expression freezes, breath stilling, before a heavy heat blooms all over your face and neck; ears burning. Watching your boyfriend with soft wonder, your heart beats out of order.

Dance? You can’t help the giddy look on your face, ears twitching, He wasn’t to dance with me?

The music in the background swells as you place your hand in his, feeling his rough callouses and sucking in a breath when he squeezes your limb so gently – like you were made of glass. 

Your hands go around Keegan’s shoulders, fingers itching the back of his neck as his own circle your waist. Both of your chests brush, and you wonder if he can feel how fast your heart is beating. Humming My Way under your breath, you begin to sway back and forth softly as your boyfriend stares down at you. A smile graces his lips, pulling back to show pristine white teeth. 

Those true smiles were only promised to you, and you would have it no other way.

“You’re a real softy, Mr. Russ,” You whisper, setting your head into the crook of his neck and sighing, “What would you do if your friends saw you like this? Slow Dancing? Talking all the time instead of grunting out orders?”

“I’d have to off ‘em,” He grunts, ironically, with his breath rustling your hair, “Can’t ruin my reputation now. Worked too hard for it.” 

Pressing a kiss to your head, you feel Keegan’s chest begin to rumble, causing you to let your body lose all tension and tautness. Closing your eyes, you let him guide your movements with his own and listen to the sound of him humming to you. The music was lost to the two of you, only absorbed in each other – the feeling of skin and beating pulses. 

These moments were rare, but so, so, worshiped. You knew Keegan’s job was dangerous, but, hell, the world was dangerous now. All you could ask was that he came home – not that he would come home uninjured because he almost always would. Your boyfriend was selfless, giving so much and never asking for anything. Worthy of all the love in the world.

And you would give that to him – freely. Because you know he loved you in turn.

You were both the receivers of a gentle type of worship; a blessing that can only be given to a kind of bond that would never be broken despite the limitations of death. 

And as Keegan lays his hand under your chin and brings your lips into a kiss, you knew that even long after you were both dead and gone the very bones that live in you would always yearn to be by his. 

Keegan was your future, and, so too, were you his; he would always return home just for you.

For this. 

For a gentle, unselfish, worship.

[tnbsecretsanta]

Welcome to the Advent Calendar 2024!

Didn't make it to Secret Santa due to lack of time? Don't worry! This year, there will be a complementary event called "Advent Calendar" where you can spread your love for the series without sticking to a schedule!

What is an Advent Calendar? Traditionally, an advent calendar is a special type of calendar that counts down the days until Christmas Day, starting from 1st December.

How do I participate? Simply create a Tumblr or Twitter post with the activity indicated for the day and use the tag #TnBAdvent24, and we'll reblog/retweet it!

Do I have to participate every day? No! The point of this side event is for you to spread your love for the series without the pressure of a schedule like in the Secret Santa! You can participate any day you want: one, two, ten, all of them! Your choice!

Can I participate in the side event if I joined the Secret Santa? Yes! This event is entirely free, so that you can participate at your leisure.

If I missed an activity from a previous day, can I still post it? Yes! Just use the tag we'll reblog/retweet it! We just suggest that you don't use an activity scheduled for a later date and wait until the indicated day to publish it.

Happy creating!

See below the cut for the text version of the activities indicated

1st - Start reading a Fanfic (emphasis on start, no need to finish it the same day)

2nd - Create a NEXT power

3rd - Which Proverb would make for a good episode title?

4th - Share your favorite piece of official art

5th - Post a WIP (This can be any work-in-progress related to T&B, a merch collection, a shrine, a cosplay, art, MMD video, ita bag, progress of your read-through of the manga, that stuff!)

6th - Share your Favorite Tiger & Bunny-related song (This means any song made for Tiger & Bunny specifically, including character songs and music used in the episodes and credits)

7th - Re-watch any episode of Tiger & Bunny (and then feel free to post a review of it)

8th - What do you want Tiger & Bunny to collab with next? (Collaboration in this context is a collab with another property, such as a company like Sanrio, a store chain like 7-11, restaurant/fast food chains, games, and similar)

9th - Make a fancast for a hypothetical Live Action Adaptation of Tiger & Bunny

10th - Share a headcanon - new or old - that you have

11th - Share an instance of "Tiger & Bunny Spotting" you've seen IRL (T&B Spotting is seeing things like their colours or associated animals-theming in unexpected places. Pets can count for this; If it's not your pet, ask for permission before posting.)

12th - Come up with a food or drink themed around a character. Actually making it is entirely optional!

13th - Come up with an 'Alternate Universe' (AU) plot. You don't have to write anything beyond a plot synopsis or roles.

14th - Ramble about your favorite character or pairing!

15th - Share either a "hidden Gem" fic, or your favourite fanfic! Maybe it's both?

16th - Pitch a Season 3 or Third Movie plot

17th - Post a meme you really like, or make a meme from scratch

18th - Share your favorite OR your most wanted piece of Tiger & Bunny Merchandise

19th - Tell us about your favorite Villain

20th - Picture/Write about yourself as if you lived in Sternbild

21st - Assign a song you like to a character or a pairing

22nd - Share your favorite piece of fanart! Make sure to credit the artist, or repost the art directly through reblog or retweet or similar features.

23rd - Share your favorite piece of trivia about any Tiger & Bunny character

24th - Tell us what Tiger & Bunny means to you

25th - Free Day! Happy Holidays!

[o7k5a8m9i]

~ HiKuro Week!~ 💜🧡 Nov 7th - 14th

{ Hi y'all so I decided to Host HiKuro Week in November 💙 now the reason for this is because October is Full of art challenges and stuff like: Inktober, Kinktober, Cringetober, Shiptober, Goretober ect! so I hope you understand! also I've NEVER hosted a event before so bare with me!💮 ok enjoy! ⚠️🌹Please read FULL post!🌹⚠️

✨🌸 **HiKuro Week**✨🌸

**DATES** November 7th — November 14th

Also I'm really sorry y'all! another thing is Hiei x Kurama & Hiei x Botan both have weeks so before you start hating on me I think Hiei x Mukuro need a Week!!💜🧡 And even if we get 5 people or 50 I'm so greatful for any! & Art/Fanfiction/Vids/Songs/Tribute posts, all forms of are support is welcomed!

⚠️💛ALSO you can Join for ALL 7 days or just one, just have fun!(◍•ᴗ•◍)❤💛⚠️

{× Prompt list ×}

Also Please feel free to to make up Your own prompts! these are just here if you have no ideas! so please feel free to get Creative!(◍•ᴗ•◍) (I put "/" in between the prompts so you have more then one choice♥)⬇️

Day 1: Mukuro meets Yukina/Family~

Day 2: Sleeping together/Lullaby~

Day 3: Animal/Your AU~

Day 4: Sweet fluff/OOC~ (I need some happy fluff!😭💙)

Day 5: Kiss/Wedding~

Day 6: Grunge aesthetic/TV Girl~

Day 7: Future/Free Spot~ (Do whatever you want!🧡💜)

Late Submissions are Allowed! please just have them all turned in by the end of November!🎐

⚠️ Apps Such as: Youtube, Twitter, Wattpad, Fanfiction.Net, AO3, Pixiv, ect are Fine if you wanna post your Art/Fanfic or whatever on! but PLEASE! Post it on Tumblr as well!! Or Post a link to it! so we can see it💖⚠️

If your submission is NSFW please tag it as such~

~Please use Tags such as~•°•° Hiei x Mukuro/ HiKuro/ HiMuku/ HiKuro Week/ 💜🧡/ Mukuro/ Hiei/ YYH.

tagging all of you who I know voted! [@starsv3 @thelovelyghostwriter @grezydragonlady @fighting-these-demons @kuramaminamino @gr8stoneddragon @willow-boop @theconjurervfx @spacedustpan]

The most important thing is To have fun so Please enjoy! I'm so excited �� PLEASE reblog🥺💞

[tinkerleaf]

HII I REALLY LOVE THE WAY U WRITE ITS SO COMFORTING SMH

and since ur request are open id like to ask going to prom but whit fyodor this time

ofc feel totally free to ignore no pressure :D

have a nice day or night <33

Prom with Fyodor!

Thank you so much!! I'm so glad you're here! This one is a little short, and I apologize in advance. These are kind of based on my experiences with my southern senior proms lol. I hope you like it! I will be writing more for fyodor soon I just haven't gotten to him yet. Words: 477 Genre: fluff Warnings: none Pairing: fyodor/reader Tags: @estelera11891

Fyodor wasn’t one for large crowds or blaring lights, but for you, he would do anything. He wore small earplugs hidden under his hair so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed with the loud music. He kept you close to him, a possessive hold making it clear to everyone who your date was. He never went to Prom, so he didn’t know how these things were supposed to go. This was completely new to him.

“Why are they playing the most random genres of music?” he asked after hearing slow country immediately after Beyonce.

You smiled, “It’s really just a mix of popular songs from this year.”

He couldn’t stand the music. He thought this event would be more like a gala, so you could imagine his surprise once inside. He didn’t know how to dance the way you normally would at a high school prom. The whole hands-on-the-shoulders thing most people did was weird to him.

He definitely believed you two were the best dressed at the venue, and whispered little remarks in your ear regarding others’ fashion choices. “I’ve never seen such a suit so loud…”

Laughter erupted from you, “That’s pretty tame compared to what I saw last year.”

“You have a pretty smile.” His eyes stared deeply into yours, his thumb gliding across your bottom lip.

When the two of you are sat out on the patio, he has an arm around your waist. He loves to talk when prompted, and your friends loved every bit of his thick accent. Anyone could get mesmerized by his soothing voice. You could listen to him for hours.

He liked getting to know your friends. Meeting the people you hung out with meant a lot to him, mainly because he wanted to ensure that you were around safe people. Listening to you interact with them was entertaining, even if there were things he didn’t quite understand.

Towards the end of the night, he wanted to do more for you. Prom seemed like such a drag compared to the other events he’d attended, so he took you for a late dinner by the ocean. There was no one else around, aside from the few violinists. This was more his pace, and he hoped it was good for you as well.

“Why don’t we dance, myshka?” He stood up and held a hand out to you.

You nodded.

“As much as I love to show you off, there’s nothing I love more than to have you like this. All to myself.” His hands moved across your body as you moved with him. His touch is so gentle when he places a kiss on your cheek. You melt into him.

Normally, you would find this stuff to be tacky, but not with Fyodor. He knows how to treat you with class, making you feel like the only one in the world.

[anincompletelist]

hi friends! :D

if you were looking for even more opinions on the internet today, you've come to the right place! jfhgsjhgf thank you for all of the tags, I'm giving you a big hug underneath the cut <3

I THINK EVERYONE HAS ALREADY DONE THIS BUT PLEASE CONSIDER THIS AN OPEN TAG IF YOU COME ACROSS IT <3 (and feel free to steal the header if needed as well!)

rules from @myheartalivewrites : I’ll list two things and you pick your favourite and bold it. Or pick both if you can't choose! And then tag some friends to join in if you like.

(Make sure to use the "this or that: rwrb edition" tag!)

+

[ Cakegate or the Great Turkey Calamity | Red Room or tack room | strumpet or biscuit | Don’t Stop Me Now or Your Song | Yes, good, carry on or We all must learn and grow | Prince Buttercup or Hoe Dameron | Henry runs on NYE or Henry runs from the lake house | I am very, very gay or Bisexuality truly is a rich and complex tapestry | fire under your ass for no good goddamn reason or bottom of the pie crust chat | baby or sweetheart | The whole bloody time or set me on fire | Empire Strikes Back or Return of the Jedi | AN INCOMPLETE LIST or your body comes back to me in dreams | burgundy velvet suit or midnight-blue bomber jacket | bad metaphors about maps or hometown stuff | obtuse fucking asshole or then fucking have me | America: He is my choice or Never tell me the odds | sería una mentira porque no sería él or history, huh? | I’m never gonna love anybody in the world like I love you or I love him on purpose ]

+

thank you so much for the fun game friend! and for the folks who tagged me as well:

@kiwiana-writes @henryspearl @anti-homophobia-cheese @cha-melodius

@ninzied @faketrex @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @run-for-chamo-miles @suseagull04

@judasofsuburbia @seths-rogens

@firenati0n @nocoastposts @wordsofhoneydew

xx

[sosadraws]

OC Inspiration Meme!

First of all, thanks @lynxfrost13 for the tag, because finally I have a reason to talk about the origins my characters, SPECIALLY Sasha and Powder. Because I can't talk about their inspirations without bringing up the fact that they're wildly different from their first iterations.

(Warning: lots of yapping, potentially long, Also, I added songs and animals because personally they're a bigger inspirartion for me than existing characters).

When I said Powder was a loser, I man a legitimate, actual certified girlfailure (current Powder at the very least is competent at her job), who kept her cool composture until she mets in the mines with this particular unnamed mynah and cries in her arms. That's it.

...ok she's still like that, but now she has more nuance, I think.

Like, she keeps up an cool and overconfident facade, it's quick to make bad choices, and being aloof when things go wrong (like Morganite from hnk and the song "Nothing Man"), but it comes from a place of worthlessnes and wanting to be useful for the others (Powder from Arcane, which YEAH I stole her name, NO the bangs are a coincidence that I'm just noticing I swear-).

She's like a dog, but those "scary dogs" that area actually quite playful or Police dogs that fail their training (I visualize her as a doberman with cropped ears but an long tail, to be specific), and most of her character can be summarized with the songs "Fighter" and "Two Time".

Sasha came to be because one day I asked to myself: "What if a MNHR unit was a total party animal and loved drinking?" And then I came up with this silly, but also very messed up story for her (which is why DRHDR is listed as an inspiration).

A Mynah got decomissioned, survived, and it's found by this pair of gestalts that have a shady bussiness selling metals and other usable stuff from scrapped/stolen goods. They go "HELL YEAH FREE MANPOWER!!" and kinda adopt her. Eventually she starts trusting them, opens up and develops the personality of a loud but well meaning teeneager with dark humor, who also does a bit of organ harvesting (because, well, "scrapped goods" also includes other decomissiones replikas...)

Nowadays she's waaay more chill (like, literally none of the previous characterization applies anymore) and her arc is more about grieving your past self in face of new discoveries that shatter your previous beliefs, as well as figuring out your identity with being "reborn" into someone new (Inspired by Phosphophyllite from hnk as well as the song "Still Feel" by Half Alive).

Bottom left is a double feature, both for the lyrics of "The Unknowing" (in a way that she tries to move on with her life, but she feels haunted by memories from her gestalt donor and the implications of such); as well as the cover art. She's pretty much like a cat, but those that are shy and hide behind furniture until strangers leave, so it takes time to gain their trust, similarly to how she keeps most people at arm's length.

Anyways, I tag @clodcakes, @plasterhound, @fischlich, @shpakatsila and anyone else that wants to do it (as always, zero pressure tho)

[ur-fav-is-older-than-discokid]

General Blog Info

(Repost because tumblr thought the original info post was mature content??)

The blog's name is kind of a misnomer. This is a blog for characters that existed before May 18th of 2009, which is the release date for Punch-Out!! Wii in North America, the game in which Disco Kid was introduced. This blog is not for characters who are older than Disco Kid's canon age (20). That would be lame.

Of course, I can’t run this blog all on my own. I need your guys’ suggestions! Here are the rules for submitting characters.

1) This blog is for characters that existed before May 18th, 2009, not characters older than 20 in canon. (For example, despite being a child, Link from The Legend Of Zelda: The Wind Waker could be posted to this blog, since WW came out in 2004. King Rhoam from The Legend Of Zelda: Breath Of The Wild would not count for this blog because even though he is an old man, BOTW came out in 2016.)

2) I say characters but submissions can be anything. Fictional characters, places, real people, books, video games, TV/movies, songs, albums, other??? Get creative. (The reason real people are OK here is because this is a fact-based blog and not a hc one. If a celebrity’s age and birthday are public knowledge, I don’t think they’ll be uncomfortable with a random tumblr blog pointing it out QwQ)

3) Surprisingly (/s), I am not familiar with every piece of media that’s ever existed. So, if you send in a request and I get information in the post wrong, please feel free to send an ask or a DM or whatever and correct me! I won’t be offended, and I’ll update the post, no hassle. If the date of a character’s first appearance or of something’s release would be confusing to an outsider, consider writing the “birthday” directly in the ask! You don’t have to do this, but it’ll prevent me from getting things wrong on accident ^^

4) Only content disqualification is like, explicitly seggsual stuff. Suggestive things are okay, as are characters from suggestive things, but if the character/media is straight up poon I'm not doing it bc I wanna keep this blog mostly SFW (ignore the bad censoring, trying to repost the intro without having it flagged)

4.5) Do not submit characters from the Persona series, especially not the protagonist of P5 (he wouldn’t even count!). Not trying to be a dickwad but the entire series is a CPTSD trigger for me and the sight of that specific character is enough for me to start reliving trauma so like. Just don't.

5) I have the right to refuse any submissions so use common sense on whether or not what you're submitting is inappropriate, in bad taste, or hateful.

6) | promise l'll get to everyone's submissions eventually so please don’t send me 500 asks for the same character!!!

Post schedule: I’ll have at least one post per day that’ll be a character of my choice, because while I’m getting a lot of requests as I’m writing this, it’s bound to die down eventually lol. Also, it’s my blog, I wanna share my things, too :p Alongside my submission, I’ll post submissions I have on queue; Up to nine per day, for ten tagged posts, max. I don’t wanna tag spam too much, which is why there’s a limit of ten. If my queue for the day is full, don’t worry, though!! Your ask will be posted the next day, or a following day if I’m really full for some reason.

[unopenablebox]

tagged by @sapphorb and @impracticality ty

favorite color: i feel like i get steadily worse and worse at answering this question as i age. i like: dark grey; black; certain golden yellows and bright/golden-y oranges; dark red

last song listened to: "set me free (feel my pain)" - charli xcx bc 🌸 and i recently realized we had a shared intense love of her first album and total lack of interest in all her later stuff (sorry). i'm like 90% that i learned about true romance from tumblr originally, actually. were you listening to and posting about true romance on tumblr in 2013? write in!

currently reading: just dropped lying for money, which despite seeming like it should be a good entry in the 'white collar financial crime' genre is in fact a disconnected grouping of far too many superficial anecdotes about white-collar financial crime, ostensibly to establish 'themes' and in fact giving the impression that i am learning strictly less about financial crime than i would from a randomly selected podcast episode on the topic.

currently watching: you can't fucking tell anyone but i started watching the dallas c*wboys ch/eerleader netflix documentary. i'm not sure that i'm going to finish it but unfortunately i am kind of transfixed by the production choices that led them to OPEN with the multimillionaire dallas cowboys owner explaining that it's fine that they don't actually pay the dancers enough to live on

currently craving: i want specifically the flour bakery smoked chicken salad with grapes so bad. this is astonishingly achievable so i'm absolutely just going to buy and eat it later today despite how dorky i feel about patronizing flour all the time. i also really want to try the fried clamb pile at a specific seafood place in the boston suburbs but i don't think i have it in me to make 🌸 spend an hour on the blue line about it so that dream may have to be dreams

coffee or tea: tea! being immune to caffeine really removes any incentive to get used to drinking coffee. i also kind of hate black tea but green tea is one of the best of the non-water drinks for sure

Tag 9 people: i think we should make the 'last 9 mutuals in your notes' method canonical for this meme bc it's fun. @twitterpatedly-yrs @caniscathexis @vincentpriceofficial @voidofcourse @consolecadet @h0rrid-little-pedant @beemojis @redescription @dippingbirdfursona

[syrips]

oc/pc ask game!!

i love these and im like WAIT i can make my own!!

disclaimer, these may contain stuff weird, suggestive, and/or potentially dark so feel free to make your own version if u want but yea here u go

sections: Personal, Aesthetic, Music, Pleasure, Pain

Personal

🧼 Soap - Does OC have good hygiene? What is their routine or methods?

💰 Money Bag - Would OC donate the change in their purchase to a charity that a company claims is benefiting those in need?

💸 Money With Wings - Would OC commit tax evasion?

🐛 Bug - If OC was a worm, would anyone love them? How would others treat them?

🎮 Video Game - What would OC's gamertag/username be?

🔗 Link - What tags, blogs, pages, discord servers, and/or subreddits would OC follow on social media?

👀 Eyes - What would be in OC's search history?

✍🏽 Writing Hand - Your OC is given five seconds to edit/alter/adjust something about themselves (or their story). What do they try to change?

📈 Chart Increasing - What company/nobility/etc. would sponsor OC?

🎯 Direct Hit - Is OC "Wanted" in any village, kingdom, etc.? Dead or alive? What is the reward for them?

Aesthetic

🎨 Artist Palette - If OC was a color (or palette), what color would they be? Would others assign them the same color?

💻 Laptop Computer - What theme would OC's device, book, belongings, etc. be? What would their background, parchment, decorations be?

👔 Necktie - Does OC dress Modestly? Skimpy? Classy? etc. Do they have a dynamic, loud, quiet, etc. style?

👑 Crown - What textures are part of OC's clothes? Fluffy? Spiky? Leathery? Puffy? Feathery? What about shiny, silky, lacy, etc.?

👕 T-Shirt - Does OC prefer to wear vibrant colors or muted colors?

🐬 Dolphin - Would OC be a JJBA character?

💄 Lipstick - Does OC enjoy fashion? Would they enjoy styling others?

🎭 Performing Arts - If others wanted to join a cult devoted to OC, what choices would OC (or you) have in the style, theme, design?

🧣 Scarf - How often does OC change their style? Daily? Weekly? Seasonally? etc.

🧵 Thread - Does OC mend their clothes (or have them mended)? Does their clothes have tears, patches, alterations? How do their clothes get worn out or damaged overtime?

📖 Open Book - Share a moodboard you associate/made for OC!

🛒 Shopping Cart - OC suddenly has a lot of money. What is most likely the cause of this? What do they spend it on?

👒 Floppy Hat - Share a (sourced) picrew you made for OC!

Music

🎼 Musical Score - Share an OC playlist you associate/made for OC!

🎧 Headphone - Does OC have a large or small range of music they listen to?

🎤 Microphone - Share a (sourced) quote, lyric, poem, etc. of something that you associate to OC.

🎸 Guitar - Someone hands OC a guitar and tells them to play Wonderwall. What do they do?

🎶 Musical Notes - A Bard is inspired by OC and makes a song about them. What instruments, sounds, melodies, etc. may OC's theme song have? What would the mood of the piece be?

Pleasure

👂🏽 Ear - What sounds does OC enjoy? If OC likes ASMR, which types of ASMR?

🎲 Game Die - What would OC's favorite (pc/console/mobile/etc.) game be?

💠 Diamond With A Dot - What is something OC indulges in, publicly vs. privately?

✨ Sparkles - What is OC's comfort activity?

💋 Kiss Mark - Is OC promiscuous? Do they have a lot of lovers, partners, and/or friends with benefits?

😏 Smirking Face - How freaky is OC? What does OC do that they believe is freaky?

🥄 Spoon - What is OC's guilty pleasure food/treats?

🎓 Graduation Cap - OC is giving a motivational speech. What do they say? Who are they saying it to?

🧻 Roll Of Paper - OC is plotting an elaborate, mischievous prank. What is their plan and who is their target?

🥰 Smiling Face With Hearts - What do you love about OC? What events, art, work do you love to put OC in?

🤗 Hugging Face - How does OC make others happy? What do they wish they could do, or plan to do for others?

Pain

👩🏽‍⚖️ Woman Judge - Why don't some people like OC? What did they do?

🚩 Triangular Flag - Is OC uncomfortable with any topic, trigger, item, or event?

🧱 Brick - What is/would OC be traumatized by?

💢 Anger Symbol - What is OC's pet peeve?

💀 Skull - Is OC cursed? Haunted? Possessed? Fated to tragedy?

🩹 Adhesive Bandage - What is OC's worst type of pain to experience?

🔮 Crystal Ball - OC has witnessed a dark omen. What is the omen, superstition, or message that is witnessed?

🪓 Axe - What tragic/dark events, art, work, do you love (or love to hate) to put OC in?

😈 Smiling Face With Horns - How does OC make others sad/suffer? What do they wish they could do, or plan to do to others?

[flowersfortheghost]

Ghostflower week day 7: own choice

summary: Gwen has been writing a lot of songs in her free time. Her friends find her song book and to them it’s pretty obvious who most of the songs are about, even if Gwen keeps denying it.

tags: @ghostflowerweek2023

(part two of day four)

song used: Allies or Enemies by The Crane Wives

note: ik this is late but i had tests, wasn't home on friday bc of Six and yesterday bc i had stuff to do and i finally had free time to write and upload so sorry for it being late. anyway, i had a ton of fun during ghostflower week and it finally got me out of the writers block i've been having. this week has been so much fun and ty to everyone who read my stuff!

—

Gwen was with Hobie and Pavitr, but she wasn’t paying too much attention to them. She was writing songs, which was one of her ways to get her thoughts out without having to talk to anyone.

She had started writing love songs about Miles. The two haven’t made up. Gwen tried to apologize to Miles but that didn’t end well. It hurt to see that, especially since she loved him. Most of them now were about how she had fucked their entire friendship up, but before they were songs about how she was in love with him.

Suddenly, Gwen’s song book is ripped out of her hands. “Hey! Give that back!” She said loudly. She saw that Pavitr was holding it, and Hobie was also looking in her song book. “Gwendy, calm down. Why do you care so much about a notebook that’s practically falling apart?” Hobie said.

“Woah, sounds like Gwen is in love with someone!”

“No I’m not!” Gwen said in defense. “Oh really? Your song lyrics tell otherwise.” Pavitr said. “Is it that guy from 1610?” Hobie asked. “No, what makes you think that?”

“It’s quite obvious.”

“Damnit…” Gwen mumbled to herself. She quickly grabbed her song book back. “Your songs are good though. It seems like you put a lot of effort into them.” Pavitr said, trying to change the conversation a little bit. “Thanks I guess.” Gwen said.

“I’m guessing you two haven’t talked yet.”

“What’s there to talk about? He told me himself that he basically hates me.”

Hobie sighed. “He probably just needed time. You tried to apologize right after everything happened. Now he had time to think about it and form an opinion.”

“I’m going home now.” Gwen said, opening up a portal. She didn’t want to talk about this. Not right now. So she just went home without saying goodbye.

—

Gwen was back at her own earth in her own room. Even though that thing happened between her and her dad, it still felt nice to be back in her own room. She couldn’t deny the fact she had missed this place.

Gwen wanted to write. Another song about her feelings towards Miles. This one was a little different. It wasn’t about her being in love with him, it was about everything that went down in their friendship.

About how she betrayed him but didn’t mean to, about the fact they had fought about it, about how she didn’t know what they were once they made it. Their entire fight upset her deeply, and she regrets everything she had done.

The words I speak

Are wildfires and weeds

They spread like some awful damn disease

And I swear, I didn't mean what I said

I swear, I didn't mean it

As her emotions kept building up, her mind kept coming up with ways to describe her feelings and thoughts in song form. She kept on writing, feeling extremely focused despite the emotions she felt.

Are we allies or enemies?

This will be the death of me

This will be the death of me

All is fair in love, and war

But I can't fight with you anymore

This will be the death of me

After a while, she had finished her song. She knew she would probably do nothing more to it, maybe try something on her drums with it but it wouldn’t be used for her ban. This was just something for her.

—

“Hobie, I don’t understand why you were insisting on letting me come here.” Gwen said when she was out of the portal. She was now in Earth-1610, Miles’ dimension. “We have talked it out, or tried but-”

“You two need to talk about this proporally.” Gwen sighed with frustration. Before she could even open up another portal to send her back home, she saw Miles swinging towards her. “There’s no turning back now.” She thought to herself.

“See you later, Gwendy.” Hobie said before swinging away. Then Miles approached her. “Hi.” Gwen said quietly. “Hi.” Miles said in response. Then there was silence, the two didn’t know where to begin. “We need to talk.” Miles said, breaking the awkward silence.

“Yeah, we do.”

—

Gwen and Miles were now both at the Williamsburg Banks Building. They had their little fight here, so it felt weird coming back here. Gwen didn’t know what to say, then her song lyrics came back to mind.

What happens now?

Do we have another go?

Do we bow out, and take our separate roads?

I'll admit I've had my doubts

But I want to be let in, not out

But I want to be let in, not out

“I’m sorry for how I acted towards you. I probably should’ve listened to your side of the story.” Miles began. “You shouldn’t apologize. It’s my fault. This wouldn’t have happened if I just..didn’t choose the society over you.”

 “I actually wanted to ask you, why did you choose them over me?” Miles asked, curiosity blossoming in his mind. Gwen had to explain the situation now, which wasn’t something she liked explaining. “I had no choice. I already explained that thing between me and my dad but..” Her voice trailed off. She took a moment to fight back her tears before continuing.

“I just didn’t have a choice. My dad pointed a gun at me, tried to arrest me so I had nowhere to go. That society was the only place I could stay since I had no one. My dad was all I had left..” 

“I didn’t..know that was the case.”

“It’s okay.” Gwen took a deep breath. She was surprised her tears still didn’t fall. “So yeah, that was the reason why. But I would do anything to take back what I did. I’m so, so, so sorry, Miles. And I can understand if you still can’t forgive me or trust me or-”

“I forgive you.”

Gwen was silent. It felt like the tears could and would start falling, which they did. She hugged Miles tightly, she has never hugged someone so tightly before. “Thank you for forgiving me.” She said.

Miles didn’t respond to this. He just hugged Gwen back, holding her tightly as well. After a few minutes of silence, Miles broke it. “Also, Hobie showed me your song book.”

Gwen let go of the hug, her face heating up from embarrassment. “So that’s why it has been missing for the past few days. That son of a-” 

“You're really good at writing songs.” Miles said, leading Gwen to stop her thoughts. “Oh..thanks.” She said. She hoped he wouldn’t ask who her songs were about, but then again she did mention that she loved him during their fight.

“I know I’ve said this before during our fight but..I love you, Miles.” Gwen said, finally having the courage to do so. “I love you too, Gwen.” Gwen smiled and so did Miles. Finally things were good again. And Gwen knew when she was back home, she would write another song.

[ofstaigweek]

Pst!

It's really happening!

Gooood day, staig enthusiasts! The time has finally come, and it's here! Staig week 2023! We're so glad that we were able to pull this off, with the three teasers presented we hoped it had made you look forward to this wonderful event.

SEPTEMBER 18 — SEPTEMBER 24

Now, let's get to it! But first, a set of guidelines for this week.

• PRIORITY RULE NO PLAGIARISM / AI ART / HATE SPEECH OR ANYTHING OF THE SORT. staig week is friendly not to just artists, but to everybody else.

• submission any form of submission is acceptable! art on paper/digital, literature, edits, etc! as long as it honors the priority rule. + late submissions are fine!

• tagging if to submit, use #staigweek2023 or tag us so the world may see your contribution!

• themes the first six days have two choices to choose from, and you are to pick one. or, if you're feeling motivational, choose both! why not?

• it's more than okay if you draw/write staig as their genderbent, headcanons, or post-covid versions throughout the week! whichever you're comfortable with.

• and finally, have fun!

.... And with confidence, here it is,

• SEPTEMBER 18TH, DAY 1: to when it all started

first confession - they say confessions make the best memory — or the worst.

rivalry - staig's infamous rivalry.

• SEPTEMBER 19TH, DAY 2: my impressions of you

fanfiction - is there a particular fanfiction of staig you always wanted to illustrate? a oneshot that captures their endearment perfectly that you just want to draw it?

theme song - a theme song should be interesting, no? ever found a song you've listened to one day, and thought, 'hey, i can imagine 10 different scenarios of staig with this song'. or maybe it's just them listening to your favorite artist? it depends on how you see it.

• SEPTEMBER 20TH, DAY 3: nostalgic memories

SOT - stick of truth; the warrior and the thief, marshwalker and feldspar. how do you imagine their story?

TFBW - the fractured but whole; yet again toolshed and super craig remain rivals, what is it with these two?

• SEPTEMBER 21ST, DAY 4: troublesome

detention - with their reputation, why wouldn't they be in detention? always getting into fights, disasters they've caused.. but for what purpose exactly?

bad habits - sneaking out at night to party or to their secret meeting place, drinking, smoking, skipping classes, the typical rebellious teenage stuff which could be romantic if you think hard enough.

• SEPTEMBER 22ND, DAY 5: so happy together

indoors - staig date! indoors bonding — video games, cooking, card games, or spending time with stripe? who knows.

outdoors - another staig date? ridiculous. but this time it could be different and unique, maybe? like an aquarium date, a stargazing date, or stick to the basics. maybe go into the alphabet of dates to see what would go well with them? you decide.

• SEPTEMBER 23RD, DAY 6: up to this special day

graduation - their graduation! could be their graduation picture together, or a sentimental moment they could share.

prom night - a final moment to perfectly end their senior year in a success or a disaster; depending on your mood.

• SEPTEMBER 24TH, DAY 7: happy staig 2023!

FREE DAY - have a particular AU or prompt you wanted to draw that wasn't included? then with the 7th day you are free to do so! tons of possibilities and nothing to stop you. happy staig week 2023! thank you so much for letting us host this year, and of course, thank you for participating!

[bhaalsdeepbat]

RULES: post 5 songs associated with your OCs and four outfits they’d wear or their style

I was tagged by @cleric4vampire. Tysm I love sharing things about Mercy ❤️

This is a Durge playlist, just as a heads up lol

Songs

Head Like a Hole - Nine Inch Nails

Head like a hole / Black as your soul / I'd rather die than give you control

2. Counting Bodies Like Sheep to the Rhythm of the War Drums - A Perfect Circle

I'll be the one to protect you from your enemies and all your demons / I'll be the one to protect you from a will to survive and a voice of reason / I'll be the one to protect you from your enemies and your choices, son / They're one in the same / I must isolate you / Isolate and save you from yourself

3. Tongues and Teeth - The Crane Wives

I've grown a mouth so sharp and cruel / It's all that I can give to you, my dear / And when you come in quick to steal a kiss / My teeth will only cut your lips, my dear

4. Mercy - KiNG MALA

Screaming into the void / My empathy's been destroyed / Trying to find a way back / Seeking some kind of peace / A little sense of relief / Just trying to find what I need

5. Duality - Slipknot

Put me back together / Or separate the skin from bone / Leave me all the pieces / Then you can leave me alone / Tell me the reality is better than the dream / But I found out the hard way / Nothing is what it seems

Outfits/Style

i put mercy in Karlach's clothes and was so mad when they showed up at the epilogue dressed nice bc they would NOT wear anything like that. I think the nicest you could get them into is something like the last one. nice elements, but with choppy/destructed layers because they'd wear shit until it literally fell off their back.

that being said, once their relationship with Astarion deepens, I imagine he'd kinda. keep their clothes repaired and stuff bc that'd be part of how he shows affection. he also gives them most of the jewelry they wear.

I tag @justabiteofspite and anyone who else wants to do it for their OCs. There are a few other mutuals I wanted to tag but was unsure of how they felt about tag games XD so feel free to tag me if you do this, so I can see !!

[sophierequests]

the garden // sophie's 500 followers celebration

500 followers?? are y'all insane?? i literally don't know what else to say to that. thank you all so much for following me and reading what i write! i love reading your reblogs, comment and interacting with you, it genuinely means so much to me <3

i have another event in the works, but i'll put in on hold for this lovely little celebration!

rules: literally anyone can participate, it doesn't matter whether you are one of my long-time moots, a follower or whether you just found my fics in the tags and enjoy reading them! feel free to spam me with as many requests as you'd like, i promise you i don't care, but please make sure that every request is sent via a different message. please don't send me two or more requests in the same ask! also, drabbles will take me a little bit of time, so maybe consider sending in some of the other asks too <3

this celebration starts on the 6th of march and ends on the 14th of march!

🦊 nothing at all - send me your favourite song and a grishaverse character of your choice and i'll write a short drabble about it (can be x reader but it doesn't have to be)!

🍃 pretty little things - ask games! i have never done them before but i want to try it so bad (e.g. cym, fuck, marry, kill, whatever you can come up with really) → these asks aren't only limited for the grishaverse, but every fandom i'm in!

🦔 can't go back - send me a character and a scenario or your headcanons about that character and i'll make a moodboard out of it!

🌿 i talk in my sleep - send me your ideal idea of a first date and some facts about yourself (name/nickname, favourite pastry, favourite song, random fun facts etc.) and i'll ship you with a character and write a short drabble about them → please specify your sexuality, pronouns and whether the ship is supposed to be romantic or platonic!

🦌 down the river - send me your favourite aesthetic (e.g. cottagecore, dark academia etc.) and i'll assign you a song out of my favourite song playlist!

🌷 not the ghost - send me a link to one of your fics and let me gush over it and point out my favourite lines (fandom doesn't matter, neither does the word count)!

🦋 turn out the lights - send me a number and i'll post a little snippet from one of my wips

my lovely moots:

@brekkers-desigirl @writingmysanity @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @ell0ra-br3kk3r @juneberrie @velvetarcane @maximoffgxrl @factionlessrebel @dellabearry @yesshewrites1 @freddycarterswife @maliciousbrekker @futurecorps3 @rowritesstuff @hufflesight @spaceagebachelormann @zaypay @jahayla-parker @pregnant-piggy @nyxxxxxxxx @vamp-rom-stuff @grimbanes @the-lonewriter