#genuinely proud of this one ngl

[xxlreader]

Hard-Headed (Oneshot)

Brief Summary: Sevika makes a bet with Quill (OC) that they can't get her to beg them to get her off. It doesn't go her way.

Content includes: trans/g!p!Sevika, nonbinary AFAB partner, oral sex (Sevika receiving), handjobs, muffing, edging, foul language, bondage, light knife play, praise kink, smut with feelings, established relationship, bratting (on Sevika's part), subvika, mind break (kind of)

WC: 6,052

Once again posted for @sevikaslatinawife (welcome to the oc x canon family!! I love that our silly little guys would get along <3)

"What do I get when I win again?" Sevika asked. She was holding a glass in her right hand and had a lit joint pinched between the clawed fingers of her left one. Her mean little smile was completely self-assured as she watched her lover set a cushion down on the floor and kneel on it.

"I'll take over logistics for the next shimmer delivery. Completely. And take you to dinner tomorrow, of course," they said. They ran their hands up her clothed thighs and bowed between them, dark eyes fixed on hers as they kissed a trail that followed one of their hands. "Are you sure you don't want me to get my rope?"

"Why would I? I don't get the cigars you promised if you string me up," she said. She took a long pull from the joint and held it for a few moments before blowing it down at them. The herbal smoke just made their eager smile broaden. It was unfortunate they were so used to her habits that they didn't cough anymore.

They chuckled and pressed against the edge of the couch, their broad shoulders tucked between her spread thighs. "I just think they would be helpful for you. If you touch my head, you lose." They kissed her inner thigh, their hand roaming up to her exposed midriff. They smirked against the rough fabric of her pants when they felt the muscles there bunching under their hands.

"Doesn't matter. Not gonna lose," she said. She sipped from the glass and sighed as if bored. She draped her right arm over the back of the couch, drink-bearing hand dangling as she puffed on the joint some more. The growing bulge in her pants gave away how even light fondling from them affected her, however, and there was no hiding it. She watched as they nuzzled their way closer to her clothed cock, holding their gaze as if she could command them to get on with it without already breaking the rules they had set. She didn't beg. She certainly wouldn't beg them of all people. They were ferocious in their desire for her. She didn't believe for a second that they could resist their need to please her long enough for her to cave.

"Okay," they said. They sounded perfectly calm. Nothing but reasonable. "Whatever you want, my love." They grinned when she rolled her eyes and blew more smoke in their face as an answer for the pet name. Then turned all of their focus to the task at hand. They were going to break her down, and she was going to love it. They rose up on their knees and grasped her by her waist, their warm, ink-stained hands smoothing along her silky skin as they kissed their way from the hem of her cropped shirt to her belt. They reveled in the feeling of the coarse hair against their lips guiding them the whole way down. They pressed themself flush against her, feeling her continuing to harden in her pants. It was the kind of thing she'd mock others for, getting hot and bothered over some light pawing and a few kisses. She mocked them for begging all the time, too. It was only fair they turned it around on her sometimes.

Sevika took another sip of her drink, certainly not to mask the way her breath was already hitching over them unbuckling her belt and hooking their fingers into the sides of her pants, their knuckles dragging against her boxers at her hips. They dragged her pants down her legs with more methodical slowness that got on her damn nerves. They knew what they were doing. And she was already starting to grit her teeth over it. When they set her pants aside in a pile beside them and started kissing her thigh again, she gripped the glass harder and drained its contents. She tried to focus on the burn in her mouth and throat rather than their teasing. Their hands kneading at her hips now kept dragging her focus downwards, to her boxers feeling more restraining. The skin of her thighs breaking out into goosebumps under their lips and the brush of their beard. They picked their head up, and she dropped the glass, reaching for their hair out of habit.

Their eyes flicked up to lock onto hers. Her hand froze before it touched their hair, but it was too late. She had already been caught, and they had barely touched her yet. She bared her teeth at them as they pushed themself up with their hands splayed out on her thighs. "Looks like you need some help after all. I'd hate for the fun to stop so soon." They snatched the bundle of rope off the end table beside the couch and unwound it. "Give me your hands, darling."

She glared up at them, her lips set in a resentful scowl. She could grab them right now and pin them to the couch. Hike up their skirt and grind against them until they were the one begging. But that would also mean admitting defeat. She slowly rose to stand, giving them a long, smoldering look of frustration. She put out her joint on their bare arm before she turned her back on them and brought her wrists together behind her. She stomped the small bit of the joint underfoot as they tied her. She still wouldn't beg. She had acted before thinking, big deal. They had been taking things too slow on purpose.

Quill made sure to thread some of the rope between her wrists to provide her right one with some cushioning so the wide ring of metal that formed her left wrist didn't dig too much into her. She had her leather cuff, but they still wanted to minimize her discomfort there. This was going to be even more fun, now. She was wonderfully strong, yes, but not enough to get out of this. And her claws wouldn't reach far down enough for her to free herself from this tie. They had their safety scissors dangling from their chatelaine just in case, and they gave them a tap as they guided her to turn around. They gave her a perfectly polite smile and gestured to the couch. "Make yourself comfortable, my dear. You’ll be here for a long while," they said.

She huffed and plopped herself back onto the couch. She wouldn't watch them as they got back on their knees. Not this time. Her face was burning and she was hard as hell in her boxers and she knew they would give her that knowing smile of theirs that made her feel bare no matter how many layers she had on. She ground her teeth together to stay silent when she felt their hands on her thighs again, their warm skin feeling like a brand against hers. Her hairline was already starting to prickle with sweat. But she still wouldn't beg. Not when they nuzzled their way along the shape of her shaft in her boxers. Not when they wet the fabric with their tongue until it clung to the skin of her cock. Not when they stroked her through her boxers until she started leaking in earnest.

Quill loved toying with her. Almost as much as they loved recklessly pleasing her until their body no longer obeyed their commands. Getting to take their sweet time with her was a nice change of pace, and they swiftly found themself emboldened by the darkening of her sculpted cheeks and sight of her gorgeous profile as she glared off at the wall on the far side of the room. It was so cute that she wouldn't look at them now that she had been bound. Now that they were properly teasing her and there was nothing she could do except take it. Their mouth was already watering over her scent, the feeling of her hard cock in their hand, the easy way the fabric of her boxers slid along it as they spread her own slick over herself through the dark cotton.

Sevika's body betrayed her with a strangled groan as soon as they tugged her boxers down and touched her cock with their bare hand. Fuck, how had they worn her down this much already? A breath shuddered out of her when they wrapped their fingers around her leaking head and coated her hardness in more of her own precum. A burst of violet vapor erupted from the grates in her left forearm. Her heart was racing, and she felt every beat of it in her hard cock as they squeezed and stroked her. Slow, firm pumps that felt like they were wringing the air from her lungs with more sounds of near agony.

Quill watched with a mixture of awe and pride as Sevika's chest heaved from her attempts to keep her breathing under control, her abs clenching over and over again, the muscles of her powerful thighs seizing just from the insistent motions of their hand. She was already struggling so much and they hadn't even gotten to the real fun yet. They hummed and idly traced the v-shape along her hips just to make her squirm some more. She cursed at them, and they giggled, then slid their hand down to the base of her thick shaft and squeezed it tight enough to make her hiss. She was leaking a steady trickle of clear fluid from the tip of her cock, and they intended to savor every drop. They dragged their tongue up her shaft with a sigh of pure contentment.

This had already been torture for her. Both of her hands had formed tight fists, her left arm constantly chattering, from how bad she wanted to grab them by their hair and cram her hardness down their throat. Then they had pressed their lips to her weeping tip and used their lips to slide her foreskin down, exposing the sensitive head of her cock to their ruthless tongue. She had thrown her head back with groan and bucked her hips. "You're…fucking evil," she snarled. She opened her eyes and bowed her head forward to level a scorching glare at them. The eyes that met her own were practically blackened by their lust. The feeling of their lips sealed around the head of her, their hand unmoving now as they rolled their tongue over the tip of her dick, was going to drive her insane. But she still wouldn't beg.

Quill didn't feel a hint of fear from her giving them such a murderous look. The way she was twitching restlessly in their mouth, coating their tongue with her arousal, her body visibly straining under the effort of keeping herself under control was not threatening. It was cute to them, really. She had voluntarily relinquished her control to them. She thought she was going to win. They stroked their free hand along her thigh as if to soothe her even as they tormented her by starting to suck on just the head of her rigid cock. Her back arched away from the cushions of the couch, her head falling back again. The veins in her neck bulged as they slowly lowered their head to push more of her into their mouth. They used their grip on her to angle the head, still dripping like a faucet that hadn't been fully shut off, and rubbed the tip of it against the ridges at the roof of their mouth.

"Fuck!" No amount of teeth gritting or fist clenching could keep her quiet when they pulled that shit. She felt a bolt of pure heat race through her aching dick and straight up her spine to her brain. She pushed out against the ropes binding her hands together, the heels of her feet scrambling against the rug under their couch. There was nowhere for her to go. She couldn't touch them and she would. Not. Beg.

Even as she started to throb in their mouth as they slowly engulfed her. Every pull of that greedy, insistent mouth was frying her mind, and it was getting harder to keep herself from sounding desperate. Pathetic, even.

Quill adored when Sevika sounded rough and primal. When her chest rumbled with growls and grunts. They loved when her deep, resonant voice was forced up into its higher register even more. Her jaw had gone slack, and a chorus of breathy moans tumbled from her mouth with every pull from theirs. They swallowed more of her down, their throat working audibly as they drank from her like they would perish from thirst. There was no resistance. It took her forming a visible lump in their throat for them to gag; there were plenty of habits from their vocal training at the academy they still used to their advantage. This was by far the most enjoyable. They could fuck their own face with her cock as much as they pleased without their body rejecting her, and they did. They worked her to the point of throbbing, hot and heavy, inside of their eager mouth.

And then they stopped. They released her cock with an almost comical popping sound and sat back on their feet.

Sevika's head had been absolutely swimming in the sensation of their tongue against her shaft, their lips sliding over her feverish flesh, their constant sucking and clockwork rhythm as they took her, inch by inch, to the back of their throat. She could hear her own gasps and moans ringing out in the heated air between them, unable to stop herself from becoming more and more vocal. The pressure coiling in her lower belly, in the base of her cock as they squeezed and sucked it, had been ready to erupt.

She let out a ragged shout of frustration when it all vanished at once. "You evil little bitch," she snapped at them. She was yanking at her restraints again. They held fast. They had bound her left hand below the wide circular band that acted as an artificial wrist so she couldn't slice her way free. Because they knew she'd put them through the table behind them with how rough she'd fuck them for doing this.

They smiled up at her, their lips shining, the hair sprouting from their chin matted to their skin from their own spit and her precum. "You know how the game works, my dear. If you want to cum, just ask." Their tone was sweet and bland, as if they didn't have a care in the world. As if they hadn't already reduced her to a panting, sweating, whimpering mess. A trickle ran down the side of her face, following the flawless angles of it before dripping onto her shirt. Her abs were shining, her chest was still heaving as she fought to catch her breath, and she looked positively, beautifully livid.

"I'm not beggin' you for shit," she breathed. She knew they'd give her head for ages just for their own pleasure. That they were practically obsessed with draining her balls every chance they got. They were licking their lips like the greedy beast they were, their fingers digging into the meat of her thighs without them even realizing it. They would crumble and give her what she wanted. They couldn't deny her for long. So she drew in another shaking, deep breath, and pressed her lips together.

Quill watched her raise her chin as she sat back against the couch cushions, looking imperious as ever. Their smile broadened. They loved this about her, too. Her stubbornness was part of what made her such an unstoppable force. It also meant they got to have a lot more fun with her before they claimed their inevitable victory. They grabbed the waistband of her boxers and shifted back so they could tug them further down. Except she refused to close her legs enough for Quill to pull them past her thighs. So they stood and walked to one of their desks and returned with a long, wicked-looking pair of scissors.

Sevika's brows shot up. "Whoa, hey," she said. "What're those for?"

Quill paused in front of her and snipped the air. The scissors made a clean, sharp sound as the two halves slid against one another. "Close your legs or I'll cut those off you."

She scowled up at them again. Her legs didn't move. This wasn't part of the game, but she had decided she wasn't listening to anything they said now. She was pissed and dripping all over herself, naked from the hem of her cropped shirt down while they were still completely covered. It felt backwards. She'd fucked them plenty of times without even taking her cloak off, but this? Just seeing their bare arms and some shoulder? Not even cleavage or their legs without their skirt lifts on? It was unfair. She kept eyeing the scissors as they kneeled down between her legs again, and she tensed slightly as Quill opened them up with another whisper of metal against itself.

"Color?" they said. They grabbed at one of the legs of her boxers and brought the scissors closer to it. This deliberate slowness was not to tease. If she didn't want these blades near her, they would stop at once. They watched a muscle in her proud, strong jaw tick before she sighed.

"Green," she muttered. She fought a shiver as the tip of the scissor's blade grazed her skin. It sliced through the fabric of her boxers in a smooth glide that reminded her of watching them cut reams of paper. They cut a clean, straight line from the leg up to the waistband. Then they repeated this on the other side. They must have caught on that she wouldn't get up and make it easier for them to get her even more naked. So they cut their way to exposing her, the clever brat. She braced herself as they set the scissors down behind them and planted their hands on her thighs again.

"I'll give you another chance, love," they said. They smoothed their hands along her thighs. Up to her hips, then back down. "Do you want me to make you cum?"

She glowered at them for a moment, then glanced away. She wouldn't beg. They couldn't make her. Her hard cock, standing upright against her abs, now smeared with a trail of precum, twitched. They were running their short nails up her thighs. Then wrapping their fingers around her dick again. Then following with their soft lips.

Quill swallowed her down to the base in a single, swift motion. And the string of curses she let loose was music to their ears. More so than perhaps the whole of their record collection. They relaxed their throat, commanding their body to welcome the intrusion, and sucked on her rock hard flesh with a single-minded determination that made their own thoughts melt into a pleasant fog. All that mattered was how satisfying it felt to have her sliding back and forth against their tongue and between their lips. The salty taste of her and intoxicating smell of her natural musk, combining with the lingering smoke in the room, the worn leather of her clothes. The sound of her moaning above them, starting to break into even softer, sweeter noises. Whimpers and whines and keening like she was caught in the grip of an exquisite kind of pain. They could feel her squirming under their relentless onslaught, and they kept her hips pinned to the couch, making use of their weight to refuse her even that little amount of control. Her left arm was flaring and blazing with such heat there was a serious danger of it setting their couch alight with a wayward burst of shimmer-fueled fire.

This time when they stopped, just short of her flooding their mouth with her load, she let out a frustrated sound very much like a sob. That almost made them give up, but they remembered how many times they had been just as helpless under her hands and mouth and cock. How many times she'd restrained them with her iron grip or buttery leather cuffs or cold chains or furniture in the brothels she took them to. And how incredible it had felt when she finally let their long-denied climaxes rip through them. There was nothing like it. They wanted her to experience it.

So they sat back again to savor the sight of her hunched over, hair plastered to her forehead, mouth agape as pants and soft sounds of sweet suffering came from her. She looked so helpless. How could they fear her when they got to see her like this? Desperate and whimpering and so hard it had to hurt.

They rose up higher on their knees and gently cupped her sharp chin in their hand. They picked her head up, giving her an adoring smile. They hummed and stroked her jaw with their thumb, admiring the wide-eyed look she was giving them now. There she was. There was the needy sweetheart she was always hiding. They leaned in to press a kiss to her lips and slid their hand down to her neck. They hooked two of their fingers into her leather choker and tugged. Just that little assertion of dominance made her hips buck up, and a moan slipped past her lips. They rewarded her by grabbing her spit-shined cock and stroking it again. A shudder wracked her, and she desperately fucked herself into their hand, hot puffs of air hitting their face when she broke the kiss.

Sevika couldn't fucking think anymore. Their mouth was impossible for her to resist. The way they expertly worked her from head to hilt with their tongue and throat was maddening. Even worse than that had been the insistent pressure of their hands on her. She hadn't been able to move a damn inch with them leaning on her; they rarely used their comparable size against her, but when they did, they took full advantage. And she had been so close to blowing her load. Just another moment or two and she would have been seeing stars. They knew her too fucking well. She felt like she would die if she didn't have some kind of friction against her cock now. Of course she had crumbled right into their hand, into the slick slide of their lips- tasting like them and her and making her impossibly harder- as soon as they touched her again.

But she still wouldn't beg. Some part of her remembered not to. She wouldn't lose. What was she even playing? This wasn't a fair game. They had rigged this against her. And fuck their hand felt so good and their tongue was in her mouth and they were yanking on her choker like she was a collared dog and she was throbbing again.

They stopped once more, holding the base of her cock in a vice grip and pulling their mouth away. She chased after them, gasping for air, slate gray eyes glazed and shining, and made a little noise of confusion that just melted their heart. "Oh, you poor thing," they whispered to her. "You really want to cum, don't you?"

She panted for a moment, blinking wetly at them, and nodded. But her mouth wouldn't form words. And their hand didn't move.

They smiled and kissed her cheek. "Nothing would make me happier, darling." They tugged on her choker again, forcing her to lean a fraction further forward, and said into her ear, "All you have to do is ask."

That seemed to wake her back up. Her pride clawed its way to the surface of the sea of pleasure she had been floating in and furrowed her brows for her. Drew up her shoulders. "No," she said. There wasn't nearly as much fire behind it as there had been the first two times she refused, but she still denied them their victory. She wouldn't lose.

Quill drew back again, and she had hoped to see them pouting or disappointed or something that made her feel better about denying herself what they both wanted so badly. Instead, she was met with a heated look in their eyes that made her feel like they had pulled a knife on her. They still had their fingers hooked into her choker, and she expected them to wrap that hand around her neck, but she had been wrong again. They let her go and ran their hand down from her neck to her chest, then lower. And lower, past her sweat-slicked abs to rest on her thigh. Their other hand was still squeezing the base of her cock the way a ring would. A constant, tight pressure that restricted her in a different way than the rope.

They tilted their head, their long pink braid falling over the curve of their wide shoulder. "Color?" they asked.

Her glare was half-hearted at best by this point. "You already know what it is," she snapped at them. "Green, you brat." Their bubbly little giggle in response made her stomach flutter in a way that made her avert her gaze again. They were the furthest thing from cruel and sadistic when they dominated her. No, they took a genuine delight in tangling her up in their web of control until she caved. But they had made this into a game, and she hated losing. So she steeled herself against whatever they would do to her next. She knew it would be the most excruciating kind of pleasure.

Quill had been hoping she would hold out this long. Their own undergarments were an absolute wreck. Their panties and the shorts they wore over them were soaked. Their neglected cunt was aching and sensitized to the point of sending sparks through them every time they squeezed their own thighs together. And they knew even if they drained her dry, she would take all her frustration over losing out on them. She still had her devastating fingers and tireless mouth to tear them apart with. So they had to break her. They had to win.

They sat back on their feet and slowly began to stroke her again. They watched a tremble ripple through the flat plane of her stomach as her breath hitched. Then hooked their arm under one of her legs to tug her forward. They needed her further on the edge of the couch for this to work. She looked confused for a moment, not resisting as they hoisted her to teeter right where they needed her. Her eyes clouded again when they bowed their head over her cock to swirl their tongue around the dripping head and sucked it back into their mouth with a moan of bliss. They would never get tired of how she tasted. They kept up stroking her as their other hand reached lower, at first cupping her heavy balls with a reverent gentleness. A high-pitched sigh escaped her, and she bucked her hips up to press more of herself into their waiting mouth. They gave her exactly what she wanted, sinking down further, and moved their hand again.

Sevika's whole body jolted when she felt their fingertips press firmly against a tender, hidden strip of flesh between her legs. She felt a new kind of pleasure spark to life deep inside of her and scorch her nerves. She was doomed. She was going to lose. "Oh, fuck! No-!" It was a cry of defeat. And Quill, her evil, doting, absolute freak of a lover, they stopped cold. Of course they did. That wasn't the safeword the two of them used, but they were cautious. They cared. They would sooner lose the fingers prying her open than violate her with them.

And her whole body trembled with open desperation for them to just rip her apart already.

"Stop?" they asked softly. Both of their hands were on her thighs again. Petting her. Trying to ground her. The gleeful, devious look in their eye had been replaced with concern.

Sevika gave them those needy puppy eyes again, her left arm sparking and letting off more bursts of steam. Her face was on fire, her throat was dry, and she had dripped all over herself. She was already a wreck. And yet she couldn't stand upsetting them even if it meant she'd concede. "Keep going," she said. It technically wasn't what they had set as the terms of the game. She wouldn't plead. She wasn't begging. But she would. Gods, she would. They could press and suck a deathbed confession out of her with their color-splotched fingers and their greedy mouth.

They smiled again, more hesitant this time, and leaned up to kiss her. They cupped her cheek, feeling her melt in their hand, and stroked her face for a moment. Their heart had leapt into their chest when she had cried out. An icy terror that they had hurt her somehow had frozen over their desire. They needed to thaw it again. They rubbed along her thigh, pressing up and against her, feeling her hard cock trapped between her and the outward curve of their belly as they traced her full bottom lip with their tongue. She yielded for them, opening her mouth and letting them in. Within moments, they were kissing her senseless, pinning her in place with a hand on her hip again when they felt her trying to grind against their belly and feeling a flare of hunger when she whimpered. She would never admit it, but she loved that they could overpower her even a little bit. It wasn't something she got to experience often, and certainly not in the safe way they provided.

She was breathless and almost dizzy by the time they parted, a thin string of saliva connecting their mouths before it broke. Their hand left her face, and she knew exactly where it was going. She spread her thighs further apart, planted her feet, and tilted her hips up to give them easier access to what they wanted. The awkward position made her bend her bound arms at a strange angle, but she didn't care. Fuck it. She had no shame left. She had no pride left. She wouldn't make it through another round of them stopping. She shook as they returned to stroking her and slid their hand back between her thighs. She gasped out a curse when they pressed that stretch of sensitive skin again.

Quill had almost swooned over her presenting herself to them like this. Offering up one of the most delicate parts of her body for them to touch. "God, I love you," they breathed. They bowed to kiss her thigh again even as they heard her make a strangled whining sound. They weren't pushing in too deep just yet. They had to ease their way into this. Into her. They rested their cheek against her thigh and watched her with their dark eyes sparkling in adoration as she writhed under them. They stroked her with a slowly building rhythm, twisting their wrist each time they reached the weeping head of her cock. Their other hand rubbed against the swell of flesh between her thighs, spreading apart to sink into the two points where the skin gave and could be pressed inward.

And she sang for them. Her mouth fell open, a harsh, gloriously arcing moan blessing their ears. She sounded divine. Absolutely out of control. Her body was shuddering, her shoulders twitching, her arms straining as she fought her restraints. Every visible muscle in her beautifully curvy torso was seizing. Her skin was shiny from exertion, and her hair was such a mess she could have been mistaken as coming from a brawl. She was utterly debauched, and she had never been more stunning to them.

But this was still a game. So they began to slow down, and they cooed to her, in a voice sickly sweet and unshakably confident, "Beg for me, my love."

Sevika unraveled. She felt like her guts were being filled with molten heat by their fingers pressing into her. Their hand on her cock was relentless, making obscene sounds with every pump as they drew more gushes of precum out of her. She didn't want to fight them anymore. She didn't even remember or care what they would win from her. "Please, baby," she moaned.

Quill's hand sped up again, squeezing her tighter, pausing for longer at the head of her cock to run over it multiple times before they slid it back down. And the fingers further down, shadowed by her body, pressed deeper. "Please what, darling?"

They were still being evil. Of course they were. They had her completely helpless in their hands, and they hadn't so much as struck her once. They hadn't said a single mean word to her. She bucked her hips into their hand as they pumped faster. "Please, lemme fuckin' cum, please, baby, can't take this anymore. Fuck- 'm gonna lose my fucking mind-!" Everything tumbled out of her at once. Her mind was rapidly going blank, reducing to a haze of sublime sensation.

Their voice cut through it all in her last moment of comprehension. Silky and low and echoing in her head. "That's my good girl, Sevika. Cum for me."

Their mouth devoured her just in time for her to shoot a torrent of thick, white ropes of her cum into it. She could feel her pounding heart in her entire body, ringing in her ears, pulsing through her cock as it jerked and poured what felt like her soul down their throat. She had no control over her hips as she mindlessly rutted into them, grinding down into the hand still plunging into her taint even as the continued pressure made her nearly sob with ecstacy. It felt like it would never end. Like she would be burned away to nothing by the waves of blistering pleasure overtaking her body.

Quill had refused to take their mouth off of her until she was shooting nothing but blanks and couldn't move beyond haphazard twitching. Perhaps that had been too much. Their lover was half slumped off the couch, her arms bent at awkward angles from the restraints, and her entire body has gone completely limp. It took considerable effort on their part to hoist her onto it and lay her down. They turned her onto her side and swiftly undid the tie and settled her on her back with a pillow tucked under her head. They checked her right arm, feeling the tips of her fingers to ensure they hadn't cut off her circulation with the rope. Her eyes were blinking sightlessly every so often, the kohl around them smeared and dripping from sweat and tears. It was a gorgeous look on her, they thought.

They got up to fetch a rag and wet it in their bathroom sink so they could wipe her face down first, smiling at how she made soft sounds in response to their fussing. They wiped down her stomach next, then her soft cock. She flinched and twitched when they touched it. Poor thing was still so sensitive. They brought over a canister of water for when she was more aware, noting how her right hand was starting to grasp at them as they moved around. Only when they were satisfied with the state of her, did they strip off their tank top and skirt so they could lay on her, skin to skin, and run their fingers through her hair. They slicked it all back, their cheek resting on her chest, and scratched at her scalp until her little mewling sounds quieted into deep breaths. And finally snoring.

They dozed off with her for a while, lapsing into a deep, dreamless sleep. They were drawn out of it by the low purr of her voice and feeling of her hands on them. Sharp metal digging into the soft flesh of their ass while warm, calloused skin ran down their wide, bare back.

"You didn't think I'd let you get away with all that, did you? Wake up, doll, it's your turn."

[ao3legendarium]

[homeless202]

Thank you so much for all your analyses on No Home. This is truly a peak manhwa and all of your takes on it are SO good.

no, thank YOU sm for saying this. u have no idea how much this means to me. literally made my day😭🫶

no home is sooo good and deserves to be talked abt more. we as a fandom need to figure out how to convince more people to read it. march on, soldiers🫡

[baby-pink-panic]

"I just broke up with my gf" Oh my god I'm so genuinely sorry for you but also can u talk to me abt it with ur head in my lap so I can play with ur hair nd tell u ur gonna be able to move on and you have value outside ur relationship and can take this as a chance to find your own individuality? Pretty pls? I'll call u a good boy?

[cloudbends]

Had a really good day today :)

[nhi-theuserof-this]

Alright fucking finneeee I’ll check out my ao3 stats— 😨😨😨😨😨😨

I’ve collectively written 70k+ words???

The Mitosis Preg fic has the best reception??

[dollishmehrayan]

# “HOLD UP, POSE!” ── .✦ ( model!reader x batboys s/o kinda requested ˚⟡˖ )

a/n: so sorry for the break and how i traumatized half of you guys with my rant (if I suffer you gonna do too && let’s move on now ) and it’s lowkeyy funny ngl but omgg, I’m finally back though soo yeah but I’m finally taking requests again for a bit too so about that yeah and also make sure to go vote on the poll, we’re at 600+ votes already for my 1k event!! Tags: (batboys x model!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Your biggest fan, no contest. He has a folder on his phone labeled “My Gorgeous Girl” filled with all your magazine covers, runway shots, and candid photos he’s sneakily taken of you (even the ones where you’re eating pizza in sweats).

Loves to drop the fact that you’re a model into conversations. Someone says something even remotely related, and Dick is like, “Oh, that reminds me of the time yn walked for Valentino. She looked stunning. Anyway, how’s your dog?”

Flirty but lowkey jealous. He’s all smiles at your shoots, but if a photographer or fellow model gets a little too friendly, he’ll sidle up behind you, wrap an arm around your waist, and casually go, “Hey, babe, everything good here?”

Runs your fan page in secret. He denies it every time, but you know it’s him posting like archive photos of you? with captions like, “Truly the most breathtaking woman alive.”

Always hypes you up. You’re stressing before a runway show? He’s holding your hands, looking you dead in the eyes, and saying, “You’re going to kill it, just like always. They’re not ready for you.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Pretends not to care, but he’s secretly obsessed. You’ll catch him flipping through your magazines with a bored expression, but the dog-eared pages of all your spreads say otherwise.

Gets grumpy when he has to share you with the world. “Do you really have to fly to Milan again? Can’t they get someone else to wear the fancy coat?” But he’s the first one to text you after your show with a “You looked amazing. Miss you, though.”

Always lurking at your events. He doesn’t do red carpets, but you’ll spot him in the back of the after-party, leaning against a wall with a drink in hand, watching you like you’re the only person in the room.

Jealous but funny about it. If a male model gets paired with you for a shoot, Jason will grumble, “You know I could wear that suit better, right?”

Says he doesn’t care about fashion but definitely critiques it. “They put you in that? Really? That’s what they think is high fashion?” (Meanwhile, he still owns a leather jacket he’s had since he was 17.)

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

The low-key proud boyfriend. Tim doesn’t brag about you… unless someone else brings it up. Then it’s a full PowerPoint presentation: “Oh, you didn’t know she walked the Paris Fashion Week finale? Let me show you.”, “it’s not that serious Tim.”

Forgets how famous you are sometimes. He’s so focused on his work that when he accompanies you to an event, he’s always surprised when people scream your name. “Wow, they’re… really excited to see you, huh?”

Pretends to be chill but panics at your shoots. If you’re wearing something too revealing, Tim’s sitting in the corner like, “Does she really need to wear that? I mean, it’s fashion, I guess, but still…”

Shows up to all your shows with coffee. He knows your schedule can be brutal, so he always has your favorite drink ready and a warm smile. “Long day, huh? Here, you’ve earned this.”

Accidentally goes viral as your boyfriend. Someone snaps a picture of him holding your bag while you’re doing a fitting, and now he’s trending as “hot model’s mystery man.” Or “Drake Spotted With L/N?”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Thinks modeling is beneath you. Not because he doesn’t support you, but because he genuinely thinks you’re too good for it. “Tt. Why waste your time parading around in someone else’s designs when you could rule the world instead?”

Still shows up to your shows like a proud dad. He won’t admit it, but he’s ridiculously proud of you. He’ll sit front row, arms crossed, looking annoyed until you walk out. Then his face softens, and he claps (but only once).

Hates everyone in the industry. Photographers, stylists, agents—he side-eyes them all. “Do they have to touch you so much?”

Quietly supportive in his own way. You come home exhausted, and he’s already brewed your favorite tea and laid out your comfiest pajamas. “You should rest. You’ve worked hard enough today.”

Keeps all your clippings. You find a scrapbook in his study filled with your covers, tear sheets, and event photos. When you ask him about it, he just mutters, “I didn’t want them getting lost.” And even keeps some fan letters that you keep or lost along the way.

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Thinks it’s “adorable.” Bruce can’t help but chuckle whenever you mention your modeling career. “You really enjoy this, don’t you?” But he’s not teasing he genuinely admires how passionate you are.

Surprisingly knowledgeable about fashion. He knows every major designer, can spot couture from a mile away, and will occasionally surprise you by saying things like, “That’s Galliano, isn’t it? From the ‘06 collection?”

Makes every event feel like a power couple moment. When you walk a red carpet together, it’s like the world collectively gasps. He keeps his hand on your back, whispers sweet nothings, and makes sure you’re the center of attention.

Defends your career to anyone who dares question it. Someone makes a snide remark about modeling being “shallow,” and Bruce immediately shuts them down with, “Actually, it’s an incredibly demanding profession that requires both discipline and skill. You should try it sometime.”

Buys your agency. You’re stressed about a bad contract or a difficult agent? Suddenly, Wayne Enterprises owns the company, and Bruce is like, “Problem solved. You can thank me later.”

[cheeseceli]

When you don't use their card

Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!Reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, reaction

Request: Wondering if you could do stray kids giving you their card when you go out shopping, but you don’t use it and they see you haven’t and what they do 💗🖤

Warnings: not proofread; nothing more if I'm not mistaken

A/n: this layout is so pretty, admire it with me for a second pls

Bang Chan

Y'know when he goes 🤨? That's him right now. Genuinely doesn't understand why you wouldn't use it. Like, the card was right there... Next to you... And you chose to not use it? If you explain that you just didn't want to use his money because you didn't feel comfortable, he'll explain to you that he doesn't mind in the slightes if you spent it. Actually, he'd be kind of honoured if you did. When he convinces you, he is smiling all adorable and content fr

Lee Know

When he didn't receive any notification from the bank he thought you had actually lost his card lmao. The minute this thought pops in his head he's calling you asking about the whereabouts of his card. When you tell him that you just didn't want to spend his money, he'll manage to convince you to use his card through the phone. He has a proud grin when he receives the first notification from the bank.

Changbin

He'd be kinda sad ngl. When he offered you his card and you took it he was feeling so proud of himself 😭 like "oh I'm such a good boyfriend :D". So when you don't use it he pouts for a second or two. Spend his money and he'll get happy again real quick!!

Hyunjin

Got a little :( tbh. But he doesn't address about it nor have a really dramatic reaction at first. Some days later he will spoil you with a lot of gifts, things he thinks you could've bought with his card. Half of it is just to make you happy and half of it because he wants to make you feel valued through his acts.

Han

Oh he's betrayed. How could take his card like you were going to use it but then you don't?? Stabbing him would've hurt less (he'd be so dramatic lol). Would try to go shopping with you next time just so he can make sure he'll be the one paying

Felix

When he didn't receive any notifications of the bank he thought that you just didn't buy anything. Perhaps nothing satisfied you so you didn't even buy it. But when you come back home with your shopping bags he's so ??? Like "how did you buy those things🤨". Audibly gasps when you tell him you used your own money. Betrayed pt2.

Seungmin

Gives you a glare that makes you freeze when he finds out. Next time you go shopping he offers you his card again, making sure he's glaring at you again like there's a threat in his eyes - "you better use this card this time." When you actually do he switches up completely and gives you the sweetest smile ever lol. It would be kinda cute ngl

I.N

I think that at first he wouldn't have noticed that you didn't buy your things with his money. But then you go shopping again and his bills stay the same... I think he'd catch up at the second or third time. Accuses you of letting him be delusional all this time believing he was the one paying for you😔 jokes aside he'd let you know that it's okay if you don't feel comfortable spending his money, but it's his pleasure to spoil like this and that if you don't mind him paying, you shouldn't hesitate on actually using his card

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated! | masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Thank you for the help bestie @zzzzzwicked 🫰🏻

[pianostarinwonderland]

Hello hello guys!! I participated in the Octazinelle zine 😳👉👈 and this was the fic I wrote!

Link of the zine is found in the notes section. I really hope you enjoy!

graduation [octazinelle: high tide fic submission]

in the few months they have before getting ready to leave for internship, floyd and jade go through the turbulence that future uncertainties bring: where will they go, what will they do, but most importantly... what will happen to their relationship with azul?

ft. floyd leech, jade leech, and azul ashengrotto

╰┈➤ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: hello hello!! i participated in a zine titled octazinelle: high tide! you can find the full zine through here~ this was a very fun project and i'm so excited to post the fic i wrote for you guys ^^ i really care about this fic so much, so there will be additional notes that i will leave somewhere :3c don't worry, they won't be hard to find fufufu

“Floyd Leech.”

Said student is just climbing down the steps of the lecture room when he hears his name being called in an austere manner. Any remaining students in the classroom cast Floyd that ‘oh boy’ look as they leave the room. Floyd looks to the teacher’s table where Professor Trein stares at him sternly. He returns the stare with a miffed look, but he approaches the professor nonetheless.

“This is the second time this week that I have caught you sleeping in my class,” Trein rebukes. “This may be your last semester in Night Raven College before you go on your internship, but that doesn’t mean that you can be negligent in my class.”

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t give me that attitude, Leech. I do not want to give any penalties so late into the semester, but if I catch you sleeping one more time, I will. Do I make myself clear, Leech?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“You may now go.” 

Floyd steps out of the classroom with the same expression as he wore when getting called out. Damn Professor Red Squid, if you don’t wanna give detention, then just don’t, he thinks to himself. Meh, oh well. I don’t feel hungry at all, should I even go to the canteen? But where do I even wanna go? Everywhere’s so noisy. 

He walks for a bit, hands in his pockets.

Ah wait. 

There’s the supplies arriving today for Mostro Lounge. 

Floyd barely notices his frown growing ever so slightly deeper, but students walking along the same path as him instinctively step aside. Nobody in their right mind would dare interrupt a disgruntled Leech twin. 

I’m not going to help out with those. Azul can suffer with those all he wants.

“Floyd! There you are!” 

Floyd stops in his tracks. He does not look at the classmate who briskly walks up to him, but he already feels the annoyance rushing to his head. 

“Floyd, we got a paper due in two days,” the classmate yells. “We just need your part, and we'll be done! When are you gonna send it in the gc?”

“Go away.”

“Hah? Don’t give me that!” The groupmate’s voice raises in anger. “We have a literal group paper to submit, and we just need your part so that we can submit it earlier!”

Floyd faces him finally, but this time, his eyes are dilated, teeth are displayed, and brows are furrowed. An all-too familiar menacing expression. “I said go away.”

“Eep!” The classmate takes a step back, expression immediately shifting to fear for his life. “O-ok ok! Just- just submit before the 11:59 deadline in two days! That’s all I needed to say, ok!”

And right after, the student runs away.

Floyd huffs. He has now made up his mind on where to go. 

Jade is wiping the sweat off of his face in the locker rooms when one of his Octavinelle classmates approaches him. “Hey, Azul’s calling for you,” he says. “He’s by the gates right now.”

“Oh?” Jade looks up in confusion. “I thought Floyd was supposed to be with him right now.”

“Well, he’s not there now,” the classmate replies while scratching his head. “They need more backup and Azul’s calling for you.” 

“Ah, I see.” He smiles. “I shall be there, then.”

The classmate leaves the locker rooms, leaving Jade all by himself. The rest of the class has already left, eager for lunch. 

Jade slows down in cleaning himself up.

Azul’s name brings back a rip that’s been tearing at his heart. It burns in the way that electricity probably burns, maybe to a lesser degree: his body stops working the way it usually does, and his chest still reels from a shock of pain. It’s not physical by any means, though by the Sea Witch, he wishes it was. It would have been so much easier to deal with. He’d be shipped to the best hospital, all bills easily paid for, and he’d be recovering well back in Octavinelle. Or if he dies, then that is that. No more pain to feel.

No, it’s a harder kind of pain. It’s the kind of pain that makes him want to tear flesh and bone with teeth and claws, the kind of hurt that urges him to destroy a ship, the kind of ache that makes him want to burn his already burning eyes. It’s the kind of pain that won’t go away even if he does all three.

Jade breathes in. Hold it. Breathe out. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Breathe in… breathe out…

He cannot afford to lose himself now, whether by wrath or by tears. 

He packs his bags, changes back to his uniform, and leaves the lockers. His light footsteps are overshadowed by the sounds of enthusiastic jogs to the cafeteria in the corridors. Jade takes a moment to breathe in the afternoon sunny air, letting out a bit more of his worries out of his lungs before he walks down the stairs and through Main Street. 

And soon, he finds himself nearing the tall gates of the school, where a group of students are gathered around large boxes. 

It annoys Jade that the gleam of silver hair stirs mixed emotions. On one hand, his troubles are dashed completely from seeing the very person he keeps close. On the other hand, it is the same person who’s making him go through hell.

He swiftly shifts his focus to the situation in front of him. Some of the other boxes should have been on the way to the Mostro Lounge by this time, yet there are still several of them that the other Octavinelle students have to carry. It isn’t surprising—after all, they decided to upgrade a few things, in preparation for the next dorm leader. Supplies that a simple run to Sam’s shop won’t cover, no matter how much he claims to have it all in stock. 

“Be extra careful with that. That tableware costs us quite a fortune.” Standing by the boxes with a clipboard resting on his arm, Azul watches his dorm mates as he writes notes on the clipboard. He has his dorm leader facade on, serious and stern, but even from a distance, Jade can see his slightly nervous gaze towards the supplies. 

As another pair leaves with a heavy box, Azul looks at them before his eyes fall on him. “Jade, good you made it on time.”

“Hello, Azul,” Jade greets. “I thought that Floyd was supposed to help with the supplies.”

“Well, he’s not here now,” Azul answers, frowning from annoyance. “I was wondering if you had any idea as to where he is right now.”

“I don’t. His history class should have ended 10 minutes ago.” 

“Hmph, nevermind. We need to get all of this into the lounge.” He gestures to the boxes. “All the boxes are complete, and we’ll do a final count of all the supplies once everything has been moved there.”

“I see.” Jade nods. “Will you need me to assist you?”

“No, you may enjoy your lunch break after helping us move these boxes,” Azul answers. “I’ll be making my next successor do that. It’s a part of his learning, after all.” 

“Ah. I see.” 

It annoys him to feel that same shock of hurt returning to his chest. 

A bemused look crosses Azul’s face. “Does that offend you,” he teases. “I never took you for one to be tilted by that.”

Jade blinks. “Why Azul, whatever makes you think I’d be offended over that?” He smiles, with a bit more effort than he’s used to. “You must be imagining things from how little rest you have in passing on your position to the little siren.”

“You exaggerate.” He keeps his clipboard and pen into his bag. “We need to move. Jade, carry that box over there.” He points to one of the smaller boxes, marked with the word FRAGILE, and picks up another box. 

And wordlessly, Jade follows, carrying a box that must contain brand new tea sets. New tea sets that remind him that a new dorm leader and manager of the Mostro Lounge will take over. 

That his term and Azul’s will end because they’ll move up to 4th year and go their separate ways. 

Jade resists the urge to break them. He’ll carry these then find Floyd. 

Back at home, the schools of fish would band together, staying close until Floyd swam past them, splitting their perfect formation. Together, apart. Together, apart. 

Together. Apart.

Separation was not new to Floyd at all. In an “eat or be eaten” world, fish and merfolk alike live with the thought that the people closest to them may be gone the next day. Floyd has hunted before, has fought before. He’s even the one who said goodbye to his parents when leaving for Night Raven College.

But he said goodbye with the promise of seeing them again after school is done. 

He stares down at the river that runs below the bridge. This spot is rarely ever frequented by students at lunchtime, if only because everyone else is either eating in the canteen, having meetings, or just being with friends, and the bridge is on the other path away from the Hall of Mirrors. Besides Octavinelle, it feels the closest to home on this campus: here, he can watch the current flow, and the fish that live below its clean stream. 

Home, huh? Floyd wonders if home will still feel like home once he returns from Night Raven College. 

It will be the same dark passageways and bioluminescent lights, the same faces but all grown up. Except that he isn’t a child that can pick fights with anyone and nab their scales as a prize, he is to be stuck with running the family business of making deals, expanding connections, beating up people who betray their trust. Pretty much like what he already does with Azul now. 

Except that the boss that would stand with him and Jade is not Azul at all. 

The fish in the river swim with no obstacle in their path. They may split apart to avoid the occasional rock, but they would be together again. Together, apart. Together. In the small space that they share, there is no vast ocean that opens up new paths for them to split ways. Not until they swim down the cliff and into the open sea. 

Floyd has never envied river dwellers until now. 

Jade walks behind Azul going to Mostro Lounge. It’s something of a routine that started in Night Raven College. When Azul walks, he and Floyd follow him from behind. He doesn’t remember how or when it started. Probably started to make Azul’s image look powerful: he is in the front, wearing a coat that imposes authority, and Jade and Floyd standing at the back makes him look almost impossible to touch. 

Regardless of the hows or the whys, it’s a position that has always given him comfort. From behind, Jade can watch Azul. He can see if Azul is pleased with something by the bounce in his step, or if he’s pissed by the clack of his heels. And from the front, Azul can’t read Jade since he’s always looking forward, and that lets Jade startle him with a random brutal teasing remark. 

Right now, though, he wishes to not look at Azul. 

Azul appears to be beaming, and Jade knows exactly why. He’s found the perfect successor for not only leadership of Octavinelle but also manager for his prized restaurant. He’s gotten accepted in all the places he applied for his internship. 

He’s gotten accepted already into the university that he aims to go to.

Jade vividly remembers the way Azul grinned from ear to ear when he received the email. He remembers the audible, “Yes! Yes, I got in!” that almost sounded teary-eyed. He remembers Floyd saying that they should celebrate over some drinks. He remembers smiling to the best of his abilities while saying congratulations for being accepted. 

That was two weeks ago. He’s said many fake things in his life, and he would never say sorry for them. But until now, the heartless congratulations weighs heavily in his conscience. 

It’s simple, really: Azul has been working hard all his life to achieve his dreams. And Jade was there to witness the journey, from the ideas to the headaches to the defeats to the victories. It’s a huge milestone for Azul to get to stay on land and study in a place where he feels he will thrive. So it’s unfair really, to not be able to celebrate such an achievement happily. 

And yet, Jade can’t bring himself to. 

Their relationship started as something transactional. Tweels keep his secrets, Azul lets them in his plans. Tweels support him, Azul entertains them. And if Azul fails to entertain, then they will drop him like plastic to the chute. There and done. That’s supposed to be their relationship. 

So why then does it hurt to hear that Azul got accepted? Why does it hurt to think about how in a few months, he won’t see Azul as much as the present? Why does it hurt to think about the uncertainty of when they will see each other again? 

“Jade, you can put down the box over there.”

Jade blinks. He’s at Mostro Lounge. Has he been so deep in thought that he didn’t realize when he arrived?

Schooling his expression, he puts down the box on the counter that Azul gestures to, unaware of the concerned expression on Azul’s face. 

Floyd doesn’t know when he started staring into nothingness to gaze at memories, but he’s now seeing the stone stage from middle school, where his younger self is playing drums to his brother’s bass and someone’s piano. 

He remembers, he was getting irritated with the piano melody, and at the time he couldn’t pinpoint why, except that it lacked something. Now that he thinks about it, it’s because that pianist’s playing had no life. No vigor, no passion, just technique that wouldn’t get anyone dancing. “Next,” he had said and stopped playing. The pianist was protesting. Floyd forgot what he said, just that he protested that he wasn’t done playing, but he didn’t care enough to hear about it.

“Everyone sucks, Jade,” he threw his sticks to the ground. “No one’s good enough to be part of our band. Let’s just go.” And he and Jade—who was bigger than him at the time—left the small auditorium of their school. And it’s a blur, Floyd doesn’t remember why he and Jade didn’t go home right away, but he remembers very well the syncopated melodies coming from the piano they forgot to close. 

And he remembers the gasp he made, the way his heart was stirred from how alive the music sounded. 

And he remembers how quickly he swam back inside to see who’s playing, and his wide-eyed gaze when he spotted the familiar octopus.

“Hey hey, that was so cool,” he said to the flustered Azul. “Play some more, play some more!” 

“Huh? No way, I have to go soon!”

But he didn’t let him go. He insisted he play the piano as he picked up his sticks and played a beat. “Come on, just one song! Then you can go!”

And he started his beat. And when it was just him for a long moment, Floyd had wondered if Azul left. But the sound of an E minor reached his ears, and the next moment, Azul’s playing was matching to the beat of the drums. And his music had heart. It had spirit, it had technique, it had passion. 

And the best part? Azul matched his rhythm when nobody else did. 

“I knew I’d find you here, Floyd.”

Eyes turning away from his reflection in the water, Floyd looks up to the face that he’s known since birth. Jade, impeccably presentable despite having PE class earlier, walks towards Floyd, leaning on the railing of the bridge he stands on. But he does not go near him. 

“What do you want,” Floyd asks. 

“We had a new batch of supplies arrive at the Lounge today,” Jade answers. “You were supposed to help out with the unpacking.”

He only answers with a curt hum before turning back to the water below. 

He hears a sigh. And footsteps approaching.

“You’re thinking about last last week, aren’t you?”

Floyd turns again to Jade. He’s by the bridge railing now, same side as him, but he continues to keep a respectable distance. Jade doesn’t look at him directly either, his gaze directed at the horizon ahead of them. 

He’s thinking about it too.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he answers. “It’s just, really ass, y’know?”

Floyd believes that in spite of their identical genetics, they are two people with different identities, dreams, and beliefs. And don’t get him wrong, it is a lot better that way to have individuality. But deep down, there is a comfort knowing that Jade probably feels the same feeling that leaves Floyd dizzy with frustration, that binds his chest with a mix of anger and sadness. And Sea Witch knows, Floyd needs that comfort now. 

“‘Ass’, you say,” Jade repeats. “Tell me about it.” 

A beat of silence passes between them. 

“It’s just that. It takes half a fish brain to know that Azul’s got grand plans after graduation. Get into the best business school, build his own corporation, build another company, and a third company. And I’ve known this for Sea Witch knows how long, and it was all fine, I didn’t care that much, but then…”

“...But then the letter came in.” Jade fills in. 

“Yeah,” Floyd emphatically answers. “That damned acceptance letter from whosit business university came in. Like, I don’t know why, but it just made everything feel… real. That Azul’s really gonna go somewhere else. And I hate that it’s been hitting me like this for the last two weeks. I can’t focus well, I’m pissed off, Trein’s told me off about sleeping. It’s so ass.”

The silent air between the twins weighs heavier. Floyd’s eyes briefly look at the fish in the river again—the damned fish that he wants to throw a rock at so they separate too—before he turns to Jade. “How ‘bout you? Was it also the letter?”

Jade doesn’t answer right away. Floyd understands; in moments like these, Jade hesitates to speak his mind, even to him. It’s part of their nature to be cowardly, after all, just that Jade exhibits it more between the two of them. 

“... Somehow, yes, but if I were to think about it… it’s actually been a while now,” he finally answers.

“Eh? Really?”

“I knew down the line that there would be farewells to be made,” Jade says. “Like you said, Azul has already made plans for himself, and he invests in those plans, years in advance. But there’s always that part of me that wonders… if there’s space for us in those plans.” 

Floyd finds himself inhaling sharply at those words. 

“I see his goals coming to fruition, and it pains me to say that I can’t even properly support him. The letter, the new supplies, the little siren he’s going to appoint… they’re all reminders that it will all change.” Jade smiles, but in pain. “Azul won’t be the dorm leader, I won’t be the vice leader, and we won’t do the things we used to do. And we won’t see each other until perhaps the next VDC. And when we graduate… would he call an end to our agreements? Would we grow so busy that we become strangers again? We would always say that our relationship is merely transactional and that we would leave him if we get bored, but…”

Jade stops, and the air weighs even heavier. Floyd feels taken back to the first day on land, when breathing with lungs felt heavy and difficult. 

Suddenly, Jade laughs. “What clownfish have we become?”

Floyd too joins his twin in mirth. “Can’t help it, Azul makes me feel understood.”

He raises a brow. “Is it gonna be about the first time you played together with him?”

“I mean, it’s how it started,” he answers. He doesn’t realize the small smile that settles on his face as he remembers once more. “Like, back then, everyone just kinda avoided, y’know? And that’s fine, at least, I thought it was. ‘Twas fun and all to be intimidating. But no matter what I’d do, Azul always matches me. He knows exactly what to play to my rhythm. And even in how we work, he knows what’s the stuff I’d like to do or the stuff I’d do well in. It just feels nice.”

It feels too nice. 

Too nice that if it disappears, it will leave his heart bound tightly by melancholy. 

“…Hey, I can’t be the only sappy one here.” Floyd eyes Jade. “C’mon Jade, share too what’s made you appreciate Azul.”

“I already shared a lot earlier,” Jade says defensively.

“Heyyy, be fair at least. I know you have your own thing.”

“What else is there to say? You already said everything.”

“Liar. I know how you started reading your books more after meeting him.” 

“So? Those were lessons that we had to learn as well.”

“Uh huh sure. Then explain why you’ve only gotten better in everything you do after meeting Azul.”

Jade glares at him. 

Floyd grins in response. “Gotcha.”

A beat of silence, then Jade sighs. “If he makes you feel understood, then he makes me feel capable.”

“How so?”

“One reason.” He puts up one free hand, with one finger up. “He’s demanding.”

Floyd chuckles. “That’s an understatement.”

“You’re right.” Jade grins, teeth flashing. “He’s exigent. Making us run around the school to do 5 things at once, on top of schoolwork. Even before NRC, he was just like that. I assumed he was insane. Until now, I still think he’s insane.”

“You say that, but you don’t look like you’re complaining at all.”

“Because thanks to that, I wasn’t pretending to be good at something anymore.” His next smile is closed. Softer. “I went from barely comprehending a textbook and barely lifting a seashell with my magic to understanding contract language and unlocking my unique ability. He made me do things, and I planned to just make someone else do it and pretend it was me.” 

“Ohhh.” Floyd’s eyes widened with remembrance. “And then he caught you.”

“Yes.” Jade shakes his head at the thought. “And I was expecting him to laugh at me, but he didn’t. All he did was sigh and teach me. Magic, studies, law, something about the way he taught those things clicked something in me. And even the things that he didn’t teach but always talked about, like culinary and how people behave, I was able to absorb things and got better. Dare I say,” a smirk forms on his face, “I’m better than Azul in some things.”

“Like flight class.” Floyd grins.

“Like flight class,” Jade repeats smugly. 

And they stop talking. Jade turns his gaze to the distant horizon, looking at something farther than the blue of the sky. Meanwhile, Floyd glances back at the river. He understands that Jade is done talking personal. But it’s fine for him. He can almost hear the unspoken thoughts. Once Azul leaves, who’s going to be the pianist in their little band that makes their every day exciting? Once Azul leaves, who’s going to tell them that they can do it? 

Once Azul leaves, who’s going to understand them?

“So this is where you two are.”

Simultaneously, Floyd and Jade whip their heads around. Floyd swears his heart almost leapt to his chest when he saw those familiar blue eyes. 

One hand in his pocket, Azul stands on the threshold of the bridge. He and Jade fully turn around as he walks towards them until he’s directly in front of both of them. 

“Hello, Azul,” Jade greets, like the conversation a while ago never happened. “How was teaching your next successor what he has to do?”

“Went well,” he answers. “His prior experiences already reassure me, but he’s also demonstrated that he knows what he’s doing. Currently, he and our other dorm mates are taking care of the supplies.”

“Weird that you’re not being so strict, considering how much you value your restaurant,” Floyd comments. “You’re not even gonna be there to make sure nothing’s going wrong?”

“I trust that things are going well with my new successor in charge. I’ve taught him very well enough,” Azul says. “But more importantly… I have matters to discuss with the both of you.”

He turns his head to look at Jade. “Jade, you’ve been out of focus lately. Just a while ago, when you were bringing the box of teacups to the lounge, you were so deep in thought, you didn’t look like you were aware of where you were going. And even during work hours, you haven’t been as sharp as you usually are. A few professors have commented on your slouched posture as well.”

Jade’s eyes widen in surprise. 

“And Floyd.” Azul turns to look at Floyd. “Professors have reported to me that you’ve either been asleep during lectures or interrupting class with an outburst. You’ve also been moodier than usual, and it shows in your cooking and your behavior. I’ve heard a few students rant about you in group projects.”

Floyd briefly remembers the group mate that approached him earlier. 

“So what are you getting at exactly, Azul,” Jade asks. “Even we have our off days as well.”

Azul casts him a pointed look. “Off days for two weeks straight.” 

He receives no quip in reply. 

He crosses his arms. “Jade, Floyd.” His neutral serious tone changes. It quivers slightly. He’s worried. “I know you two well enough that there’s something going on. Is there something that happened?”

Floyd looks away. Jade does as well.

Floyd hates the concern in his tone. It makes him want to break. It makes him want to be upfront about his feelings and how it’s been bothering him. 

But how can someone like him really tell someone like Azul that you’re afraid to lose him somehow? How can he retract all the times he said that their relationship is all transaction and no emotional connection? How do you even start bearing something so vulnerable? 

They must be the same questions that Jade is grappling with now. Jade, who’s usually good at worming his way out of any conversation, has nothing to say to leave this topic. 

Azul sighs, breaking the long silence. “Is this something that has to do with me?”

The twins stiffen. 

Floyd can feel Azul’s gaze towards him. 

A tense moment passes. 

“... I had a feeling.”

He finally looks at him but in confusion. Jade is also facing him with wide eyes. 

Azul exhales through his nose. “You don’t have to tell me anything about what you’re feeling right now. If at all.” He turns around, preparing to leave. His head is bowed down, not letting either twin see his expression. “But I just want to let you know, I’m always here if you need me. Not just for this, but for anything, even if in the future.”

Floyd’s breath hitches.

“Do you… really mean that?” Jade asks, almost meekly.

Azul looks at Jade in puzzlement. “Why wouldn’t I? You two have been with me for all these years, even in my weakest hours. It’s not like I’m going to leave you even after we graduate.”

“Really,” Floyd asks. “Even when you get really busy with university and we’re running our family business?”

“Well, I won’t deny that we will be busy,” he answers. “But I’m not letting go of you two just because of that. You know me too well, after all. And you’ve supported me all these years, it would be embarrassing to leave that unpaid.”

“You mean that?”

“Have I ever broken a promise? If you want, I can even put that on a contract and have you sign it.”

In one single breath, the binding sadness and worry that tightened Floyd’s chest leaves. 

Without thinking, he moves towards Azul and wraps his arms around his slim frame. He ignores the surprised gasp as he buries his face on his shoulder. His breathing feels lighter than it has ever been the past two weeks. 

He feels Jade joining in, hugging Azul from the other side and burying his face on the other shoulder. His breathing sounds even to any person, but to Floyd, he can hear a slight quiver, like Jade is trying to hold back tears. 

“Is… is this what it’s been all about, all this time,” Azul finally asks. His hands move to pat their heads, a motion that always comforted the twins. “You two are strange for worrying about this type of thing.” 

Despite his words, Floyd can hear the smile in Azul’s voice.

[p1utofairy]

★ how will people feel about you going public with your fp?

NOTE: for entertainment purposes only. take what resonates & leave what doesn't. ⭐️ i always appreciate the feedback so don't be shy. MWAH. enjoy!

PILE 1.

i feel like this relationship is going to cause quite a stir, pile 1. the energy is giving “that should be me!” lmao some people are really going to be mad as fuck. your person is going to treat you like an absolute queen and i’m hearing people scoff like “UGH!” which is crazy cause you might not even know these people, but y’alls relationship evokes this energy out of them. you (or possibly your fp) might have a narcissistic ex lurking in the shadows who constantly watches your social media & keeps tabs on y’alls relationship. it’s really weird, EW. they feel like they didn’t have you the way your person does, and it makes them really fucking jealous – it’s honestly absurd.

they fumbled you and they’re really going to regret it!especially because of how well your fp treats you & prioritizes your relationship. this ex has a BIG ass ego like the way they make everything about themselves is insane?! this person could be a fire sign – i’m picking up on some leo energy. they’re in disbelief that you moved on from them, and found someone wayyyy better that fulfills you in so many ways that they couldn’t possibly measure up to. they might create fake pages or reach out to you repeatedly trying to win you back over…it’s shameful honestly. from the outside looking in, your relationship with your fp is going to look so lowkey + private yet so warm + stable. you or your fp could have scorpio/taurus placements, but i just feel like neither of you are the type to post every single thing you do together on social media but people will know that’s YOUR FP, YOUR FP, YOUR FP! like don’t play!

y’all will make it very known that y’all are a couple, but people will not be all up in the mix because y'all simply don’t want them to be. they’ll see little hints and clues that you’re off the market, but this relationship is for you two, not everyone else. i can see you both posting things like holding hands, dinner dates, taking long walks together, an off guard while one of you is doing something, etc. just cute moments that only show a small glimpse of the immense love you two share on a day to day basis.

PILE 2.

were you split between choosing this pile and pile 1 lol? if so, check out pile 1 as well! there might be some messages in there for you too. now anyways, i’m ngl this is giving me single era vibes. you might have options and even if you don’t…you’re like “is any person really worth going public with?” LOL i get it, i really do. you’re very cautious and want to make sure that you’re not wasting your time on a relationship that you know might not last in the long run – you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment.

if you went public with someone…that means you really are committed like they REALLYYYYY won you over because you don’t pop out with just anybody! it takes a lot of effort to keep your attention, let alone gain your trust to be in a public relationship. i actually think your content with being by yourself right now. of course, you want a partner who can provide you with the best and also be loyal and committed to you.

however, you're willing to wait for that one person instead of wasting your time on others who don't meet those standards. OOOOO did some of my fellow saturnians choose this pile? this energy is amazing like seriously i’m so proud of you! you’re doing the inner work and it’s genuinely going to pay off in the long run. you’re cultivating your own happiness and building up your self-confidence. because of that, you’re going to attract a like-minded partner. you will have your desired reality, pile 2! you don’t live your life based on society’s standards and expectations. you’re on a different vibration and are attracting love, prosperity and abundance towards yourself effortlessly because you refuse to settle for less and put yourself in a box.

i know this reading is about how people will feel about you going public with you fp, but you genuinely don’t give a fuck what people think lol. people won’t even be able to form a proper opinion, because you are genuinely on a different level. i randomly just heard that one nicki minaj video when she’s like “BROKE PPL SHOULD NEVER LAUGH!” lmfaooooo i’m sorry but yeah! once you get everything you always said you would, including your fp, people are gonna be real silent no shade.

PILE 3

um pile 3 why is this energy a bit messyyyy, hold awn?! your relationship with your future partner might be different from what you perceive, or at least that’s how the public views it. take that with a grain of salt, but i feel like this relationship is going to have its ups and downs and it’s going to reflect on y’alls social medias.

you or your future partner might be the type to get emotional and act out by reposting different quotes on your IG story or tiktoks that relate to your situation, might even go as far as posting cryptic messages to allude that you two are on the outs. you and your fp know how to push each other’s buttons, and it honestly can get petty between you both. someone is not fully healed from their previous relationship in this connection & the unresolved baggage is carrying over into this one. idk, pile 3. for some of you this could be a karmic relationship and for others of you this could be baggage on your end that you need to work through in order for you to be in a stable relationship.

there seems to be a lot of wishy-washy energy, and people might perceive your relationship as having a 'one minute they're together, the next minute they're not' type of vibe. also, i’m picking up on a third-party situation where either you or your partner is keeping someone on the back burner without completely closing the door.

honestly, people might be amused by this and say things like, 'OMG, go check [Y/N]’s IG story and go see what [Y/FP] posted,' which only fuels the mind games being played. ultimately, i think this relationship will teach you about healthy boundaries and what you are and aren’t willing to tolerate, especially in public. it’s messy because this third party keeps interfering and amplifying the situation to make it worse. the ball is ultimately in your court, pile 3. you’ll know what to do.

[onlyangel4]

I once again dont have any drivers in mind but pls do something with “waves of blue” by majid jordan🥺 thank you!!!!

waves of blue. ls2. smau.

fans have noticed that logan does not seems like he is enjoying his job anymore. but when his girlfriend joins him for the first time they realise that she is all he needs to be happy.

author's note: guys isn't it insane how much abigail cowen's real boyfriend looks like logan it actually blew my mind ngl

faceclaim: abigail cowen

f1lover

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 45,8273 others

f1lover: logan has been having such a bad season and you can literally see the light drained out of his eyes, he just always looks so deflated and it makes me so sad. i just want to give him a hug.

view all 1,175 comments

user1: i know y/n is really busy with work but he just looks like someone who needs a hug from his girlfriend

user2: he has not been happy ever since the beginning of the season

user3: everytime they pan to him he is frowning and it makes me so sad, especially since we now know he probably won't be back next year

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, y/ninsta, oscarpiastri and 879,374 others

tagged: y/ninsta

logansargeant: had the best summer break back in miami with my girl. back to work in the netherlands this weekend.

view all 4,582 comments

y/ninsta: still can't believe i actually managed to get two weeks of summer break off this year

logansargeant: honestly i'm so grateful you did love, i had the best time with you

user4: this is the most american summer break post ever

user5: the only pictures i see logan actually smiling are the ones where he is with y/n

user6: caption makes it seems like he really doesn't want to go back to work

f1updates

liked by user7, user8, user9 and 78,283 others

f1updates: logan sargeant had a horrible crash during fp3, it is very unlikely that the car will be ready before the qualifying session, therefore he will be starting at the back of the grid. this is the beginning of yet another disappointing weekend for the american driver.

view all 1,329 comments

user7: oh logan, why is it always you?

user8: no longer he seems to hate his job now

user9: i'm so glad that he is okay that could have been really bad

user10: as much as i joke about wanting to be a wag i genuinely don't know how y/n does it, watching the man you love get in these dangerous situations and not being able to hold him afterwards would be so awful

y/ninsta posted a story

written: as many of you know i am a vet tech and i was on the night shift today, 8pm to 8am, logan's crash happened just before i finished my shift, i have spoken to him and he is okay, i just wanted to pop on here to kindly ask that you stop sending me pictures of my boyfriend's horrific crash asking for my opinion on it, i do not want to constantly see that when i open my messages, thank you loves now it is time for me to go to bed

logansargeantupdates

written: another race weekend more sad content of logan

logansargeant posted a story

written: look who happened to pick me up from the netherlands

y/ninsta posted a story tagging logansargeant

written: just watched my first in person practice session and jesus christ those cars are fast

logansargeant posted a story

written: p16 tomorrow, so close to q2 but we move, me and this girl are going to go have a nap

logansargeant posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: my girl's first race weekend

f1updates posted two stories

story one written: the smile

story two: the reason for the smile

y/ninsta posted a story

written: here we go

f1updates posted a story

written: logan finished p16 but he is the happiest we have ever seen him, he ran down the pit lane to find y/n after the race and they shared such a happy loving embrace. seems like this american boy just needed his american girl

y/ninsta

liked by logansargeant, lilymhe, iamrebeccad and 283,834 others

tagged: logansargeant

y/ninsta: my first ever race weekend ! and i am so proud of my boy i love you so much logan and i can't wait to attend more races even if my heart can't take it

view all 4,585 comments

logansargeant: i loved having you by my side this weekend my love

y/ninsta: there is nowhere else i would rather be

lilymhe: it was so nice to have you in the paddock

y/ninsta: thank you for telling me what was going on when i had to shut my eyes

user11: they have only been to one race together and they are already my fav couple

user12: logan perks up whenever you are about it is the sweetest thing ever

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

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[argentimybeloved]

I have winter exams starting tomorrow so time to have random thoughts of some of my fav hsr characters helping me get through it :3

Can be seen as romantic or platonic

Good luck to anyone with exams coming up!!

======

Argenti would totally check in on you. Giving you water and snacks every hour or so and making sure you aren't over working yourself. If you happen to fall asleep at your desk he'll carry you to bed.

If studying happens to become very stressful to you he's quick to pull you away and urge you to relax. These exams may be important to you, but your more important to him. He can't stand to see you upset about these exams and ignoring your needs. So he'll take care of you.

======

Boothill I feel would defo try to get you to relax. Of course not make you completely forget about your studies but he knows that if you spend too much time studying w/o a break. That in itself could be a problem

He knows you should study, especially if these exams are important to you, but there should always be time for yourself to relax your mind. So if he thinks you've been overworking yourself too much or have spent to many hours with no break studying? You bet he's dragging your ass out for a nice walk

======

Dr Ratio helps you. I mean he is a teacher. He's able to help. He'll slow down, he'll write, he'll do whatever it takes for you to understand the topic and be confident in your exams. Of course I feel he'll still be strict but if he sees you're struggling he wants to help.

He may be strict but he genuinely wants to help, in any way possible. If it means taking it slow or using visual references so be it. He wants to make sure you go into that exam with as little stress as possible. And whatever grade you get he'll be proud of you because he knows you tried. And that's all that matters to me, that you tried.

He'll still be proud of you

======

Imagine sleeping on Jing Yuans chest or lap after a long day of studying and/or exams. He'd let you. He's probably sleeping as well honestly. You deserve the sleep anyways, to relax your body after a stressful day

======

Dan Heng defo also helps you study. He sees what you're struggling on the most and spends time teaching you so you can grasp it, even just a little. He'll give you small tests. Nothing too long, maybe 10-20 minutes. On different chapters you're going to be tested on. He checks them and goes through the ones you got wrong. Slowly you'll seen an improvement as the cycle of him teaching you the topics you didn't know, getting a small test and seeing where you went wrong repeats.

I'd love to hug him after a long day exams and just be held by his tail ngl, he might let that happen

[warblogs17282]

So we've all talked about the fact that Stolas caught Stella's hand in this scene, but I don't think I've really seen anyone discuss Stella's reaction to Stolas doing that.

Like, there's three things about Stella's reaction here that I want to point out.

1: If you go frame by frame, you can see Stella's white pupil in her eye twitch very briefly.

2: Stella's pupil is now facing downwards, no longer looking right at Stolas, but at either the floor or her hand in Stolas' grasp.

3: Look at her mouth being wide open, just being frozen in place.

All 3 of these things point to one conclusion, the fact that Stella is genuinely shocked that Stolas caught her hand as she was trying to hit Stolas.

Plus, how the next few seconds of the scene progresses also confirms this fact.

Stella is now looking directly at Stolas again, with her mouth now being ever so slightly more closed.

And then it's right back to the angry face again, with her mouth now closed, and her eye is now more narrow, to look at Stolas even more directly.

Stella's reaction to Stolas resisting her attack just doubly confirms that Stella has used physical violence against Stolas, many, many times, and that this is most likely the first time that Stolas has actually resisted her attacks, explaining why Stella looks so shocked that Stolas has caught her hand.

Which just makes Stolas' line of "The only reason I have endured your constant insults and cruelty was for that girl to have a normal life." a bit more heartbreaking to hear ngl.

I'm still so goddamn proud of Stolas for standing up to Stella.

[t-lostinworlds]

Competitively Stupid | Steve Harrington

》 PAIRING: steve harrington x female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: rivals-ish (since childhood) to lovers, some angst; fluff

》 SUMMARY: It was stupid, jumping off a cliff just to prove that you were better than Steve fucking Harrington. But you were competitive. You were not losing to him. But you know what was stupider? For it to take a near-death situation for you both to confess what you truly feel for each other.

》 WARNINGS: canon divergent (everyone is alive & well & happy thanks), pet names (sweetheart, baby), shitty parents (on both sides), competitiveness on all accounts, r is basically a counterpart of steve during high school (cheerleading captain, queen of hawkins high, swim team captain, etc.), peer pressure-ish, some stupid decisions & stupider actions, very irresponsible cliff jumping (which doesn't end well), drowning, CPR, injuries, an emotional moment™, love confessions, and a happy, sappy ending.

》 WORD COUNT: 5.3k+

A/N: hi! okay, well, it's been a while since i posted a steve fic so i'm kinda nervous ngl. also, not me making it a habit to include swimmer!steve in all my fics from here on out. this was meant to be short & sweet to dust off the cobwebs but lol. super random. i saw a video of someone cliff-jumping & boom, the idea was born. also, not me using the first aid training i learned in college.

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ STEVE H. MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

This was stupid.

Absolutely idiotic.

You genuinely have no idea why you were even doing this in the first place.

"There's no way you can do it."

Right.

That's why.

The taunting voice of Steve fucking Harrington was the reason why you were standing on the edge of a cliff, looking down at a thirty-foot drop into the dark ocean.

This was supposed to be a relaxing trip with your new found family.

"You know you don't have to listen to him, right?" Robin sighed, so completely over the fact that her two best friends who never got along no matter what she tried, somehow came to an agreement to not listen to her right now.

Not that you could blame her.

You and Steve had been rivals ever since you were kids.

It was what you had always known.

What with narcissistic parents who used their children as pawns to one up each other, you had been conditioned to see him as an enemy from the second you step foot into their home.

Your family was invited into the Harrington residence for dinner as a way of welcoming you to the neighborhood. You recently just moved in, so you didn't know anyone else yet. When you heard that the next-door neighbor had a son who was your age, you had been really excited to gain a new friend.

All that changed when your dad sat you down an hour before, prepping you about how the Harringtons were a respected family in the town, and that you needed to show them you weren't any less than them, if not show them you were better. He drilled it in your brain to be on your best behavior, to be the best and the perfect daughter.

It only got worse when you finally sat down at that dinner table.

The comparisons were endless.

"See, my daughter here is a wonderful gymnast, quite amazing for someone her age."

"How wonderful. Steven here has swimming lessons every weekend. His coach said he might end up in the Olympic team once he's of age."

"Splendid. How about his academics? I'm sure he can take inspiration from my daughter's exemplary grades."

"He's the top of his class. Maybe if they study together, your daughter would be able to catch up in time."

It was harsh, pitting two seven-year-olds against each other—impressionable kids who only wanted to make their mom and dad proud.

But neither your parents nor his truly gave a shit. All they cared about was becoming the best family in the street, if not the whole town.

The sad thing was, those dinners became a regular thing, held alternately between your house and his.

It always looked like a preparation for battle whenever your mom would pull out the finest china in her collection along with the cookbook she only ever used for special occasions.

It was in the guise of cordiality when it was, in fact, an excuse to show off, to make a competition out of everything, a moment to compare who did what best. Those dinners were like monthly scoreboards, tallying up the respective families' recent achievements—and that included yours and Steve's.

Nobody was surprised that the competitiveness stuck with you both.

And it only got worse during high school.

Whether that was something as mundane as winning the popularity contest when running different circles—even going as far as getting crowned the King and Queen of Hawkins High—down to academics and extracurriculars.

Captain of the basketball team. Captain of the cheerleading squad. Prom Queen. Prom King. MVP of the season. Brightest student of the year. Beer pong Queen. Kegstand King. Best summer camp counselor. Lifeguard of the month and it went on and on and on and on.

When he got co-captain for the men's swim team, you rubbed it in his face that you were the captain of the women's team. When you got second place at the science fair, he made sure to rub his first place medal right in your face. When you became president of the student council, you ordered him around to do extra work whenever the basketball team was required to help with community service.

It was a constant back and forth.

There was always a competition between you and Steve Harrington.

And sure, since you graduated, it became subdued. But it was still very much there. Vying on who was the coolest babysitter in your band of ragtags, even fighting to have the title of Robin Buckley's ultimate best friend.

This thing between you and Steve was deeply rooted. So there really wasn't much Robin could do apart from getting in between your frequent squabbles before you started actually killing each other.

In Robin's words, something drastic had to happen for you both to finally wake up and see that this rivalry between you both wasn't what it seemed to be on the surface.

You had no idea what she was even implying.

Now, on a little getaway on the nearest beach you could drive to, the competition started with a race on who could get there first. It wasn't even fair seeing that you weren't the one driving.

The group had split into two, some were in Eddie's van—along with everyone's belongings since he had ample space in the back—while the others were in Steve's Beemer. Since you and Steve couldn't be in the same room together without an argument ensuing, it was a unanimous decision to have you two separated. Nobody wanted to deal with that for hours on the road.

Not that you could blame them, either.

And sure, it was the kids who suggested the race, but with Steve's smug smirk and that arrogant wink he threw once you got into Eddie's passenger seat, you knew it was game on between you too.

Yet despite the metal head being a fast—albeit slightly reckless—driver, he somehow took his sweet goddamn time getting to your destination.

Only when your group arrived at the beach last, did he say something about Steve threatening him to be extra careful with driving because there's important cargo in his van—whatever the hell that meant.

You lost to Steve on that one, but you would argue it was rigged from the start.

The next was a supposed friendly bout on who could build the biggest sandcastle that didn't topple over after a few minutes.

It was boys versus girls with you and him being team leaders. The girls won, obviously and El never used her powers. It was fair and square since the other team mostly argued over everything they could think of and had no teamwork at all. You made sure to point that out to Steve as you watched their sandcastle crumble into ruins.

Another one was beach volleyball. Same leaders as before, but you get to pick the members of your teams this time. Steve made it his mission to pick the tallest of the bunch. Still, it wasn't the advantage he thought it was because it ended up being one point too close.

Your team would've won if Steve wasn't such a dramatic asshole.

It was truly an accident. When you spiked that ball, you were not aiming for his face. He simply thought it was a good idea to catch the ball with it. Besides, he was distracted, flirting with some random girl in a bikini who was passing by, right in the middle of the game.

How was it your fault that he wasn't paying attention?

He made sure to oversell his injury after that, curled up on the sand as the girl fussed over him. But you saw that smirk on his face. You would've hit him again—definitely not by accident this time—if you weren't busy arguing with Robin about the point deduction. She said it was only fair since you hit the ball when she hadn't blown her imaginary whistle yet.

You decided to let it go when Steve commented on you being a whiny sore loser.

Unfortunately, the competition was ending with who could make jumping off a cliff and into the ocean look the coolest—adults only, despite the groans of protest from the mischievous bunch.

Eddie offered to stay behind and watch the rascals. When teased, he simply said he didn't want to test Death today.

His comment didn't help your nerves.

Robin said she was only coming purely as a voice of reason. She'd been saying nonstop how it was a horribly stupid idea, that there really was no need to be doing this in the first place.

But Steve wasn't backing down, so you weren't going to either.

So once again, it was only you and him.

As it always had been.

He volunteered to go first, throwing in a comment about rushing back up the cliff's edge before you could take your turn because he wanted a front-row seat for when you'd chicken out.

It only made you want to do it more.

His dive was smooth, almost flawless, you admit. He even showed off with a little flip near the end. It didn't take long for him to swim back to the shore, either. His years of training as a swimmer were obviously paying off.

But you trained just as much if not more than he had.

The only difference was, adrenaline didn't fuel you as much as it did Steve. So instead of getting all powered up looking down at a cliff's edge like he was, you were terrified.

But who wouldn’t get scared looking down at harsh waves crashing against sharp and jagged rocks? There was no margin for error here because one wrong slip and you'd be dead.

Still, if Steve could do it, you could do it better.

You weren't about to lose to his stupid ass.

"I'm not listening to him," you argued back, taking in a shaky breath as you took a step.

"He's doing reverse psychology!" she squeaked. "So you doing it is still listening to him!"

"I'm fine, Robs, I can do it," you mumbled, a slight questioning lilt at the end of your sentence.

"Look, sweetheart, it's okay to admit defeat," Steve said, cocky voice with an even cockier smile as he crossed his toned arms against his bare chest. His hair was still damp, quick to climb back up so he could get his front-row seat as he promised.

But you weren't chickening out.

Never.

"I mean, it wouldn't be the first time you lost to me so, it shouldn't sting as much."

You ignored him.

Instead, you took another step, the tips of your toes now hanging over the edge.

You can do this. Wipe that smug smirk off his face. You got this.

"Listen, you don't have to do—"

"Shut it, Harrington," you growled.

With a deep breath, you closed your eyes, counting from three, two, one…

You jumped.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

This was stupid.

Absolutely idiotic.

He shouldn't have pressured you like that.

The jump wasn't deadly, per se, but it also wasn't exactly deemed the safest, especially if you weren't an expert in any sort of way.

And he didn't want to say it out loud because if he did, he knew it would only push you to do it more just to prove him wrong.

But Steve could see how scared you were.

He was already dropping the act, voice laced with concern as he started telling you that he wasn't worth all of this, that he was stupid and that you were always going to be better than him.

But, obviously, you didn't listen.

You simply jumped.

You and your stupidly competitive ass.

"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, rushing to the edge of the cliff, tensely watching your falling figure disappear into the water with a splash.

"You two are complete idiots."

"Shut up," Steve gritted, never looking away from the water. Yet any annoyance was quickly overpowered by sheer worry as he scanned the deep blue for anything.

There was no sign of you.

"Like seriously! It's like I'm the only one with a brain cell here!"

"Come on, come on, come on," Steve mumbled, completely ignoring Robin when you still hadn't emerged to the surface. "Come on, Y/N, don't scare me like this."

"Uh, Steve?" Robin asked after a moment, carefully looking over the cliff before shooting him a worried glance. "You look anxious and you being anxious is making me nervous."

"She hasn't come up," he grumbled, glancing at his watch.

It was nearing a minute.

"Maybe you didn't see her?"

"I haven't taken my eyes off the water, Buckley," he gritted, too harsh and uncalled for since Robin didn't do anything wrong.

But he was panicking.

A minute and thirty seconds.

"Come on, sweetheart, you can do it. You're an amazing swimmer," he whispered encouragingly, hoping some sort of magic would let you hear him underwater all while saying it aloud for his own sanity.

Two minutes.

You could never hold your breath any longer than that.

Steve knew because he always won that competition.

And that was in a calm pool.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he cursed, gearing up to dive after you. "I don't think she's coming up!"

"Okay! Okay," Robin rushed, panicking. "Maybe she's already on the shore. We should go down now and see—"

Steve didn't listen.

He jumped right after you.

The biting cold was awakening.

Still, it was the absolute fear of losing you that was keeping him alert.

He ignored the sting of the salty ocean water in his eyes as he frantically searched for you, his heart beating hard and fast, struggling for oxygen all while fearing for your safety.

Steve didn't know which came first, relief or dread when finally found you, aimlessly floating and unconscious under the deep blue.

He swam to you as fast he could, securely hooking his arm under your shoulder and dragging you up to the surface.

Steve always knew that adrenaline can give you a random boost of strength when needed. He simply didn't expect that to be proven true when he was carrying your unresponsive body in his arms as he brought you to the shore.

He gently placed you on your back on the sand, cupping your face as he checked for any injuries.

You were so cold.

"Hey, hey, wake up," he begged, grabbing your shoulders to try and shake you awake.

Nothing.

"You didn't have to make the jump, you idiot. Why do you always want to prove me wrong," he scolded with no ounce of anger, only worry. He started tapping your cheek frantically. "Come on, wake up!"

Still no response.

"Dammit, Y/N, why'd you have to be so fucking stubborn," he scolded, his voice shaking in fear, his chest tightening as he pressed two fingers against your pulse point.

His own heart stopped when he couldn't feel yours.

And you weren't breathing.

Steve tried to keep himself calm. If he panicked now, he wouldn't be able to give you the aid that you direly need.

"Come on, Harrington. You know what to do. You trained for this," he mumbled to himself, getting into the proper position to give you CPR.

He gently cupped your forehead with his left hand, his other two fingers under your chin as he tilted your head up.

"You're going to be okay," he whispered, pinching your nose before slotting his lips against yours.

Breathing into your mouth, one, two, he watched your chest rise as it filled up with air, only for it to settle back down without coming back up again. He quickly kneeled straighter, locking his fingers together and placing the heel of his left hand in the middle of your chest, pushing down with enough pressure to try and get your heart to start again.

"One, two, three, four, come on, sweetheart, breathe for me," he mumbled, easily finding the right rhythm, his first aid training as a lifeguard coming back to him like it was second nature.

Still, he never wanted to use this skill in a real-life situation, much less use it on you.

It was the longest thirty counts in his life.

Check for a pulse. Check for breathing.

Still nothing.

"Goddammit, Y/N, come on!" he growled, blinking back the tears as he pressed his mouth against yours again.

Two rescue breaths.

Thirty chest compressions.

Steve repeated the cycle over and over. His eyes were stinging with unshed tears, his knees were burning as the rough sand dug deeper into his skin, and his arms were starting to get sore, tiredness slowly covering his aching muscles.

But he'd rather die first than give up on you now.

"Steve—"

"Call for help, Robin!" he ordered, not taking his eyes off you for even a second. When he didn't hear any movement, he yelled, "Don't just stand there! Go!"

He was going to apologize for being an asshole later. For now, he needed you to fucking breathe.

"Come on, come on, please," he begged, leaning back down to give you two more rescue breaths. "Breathe for me, baby, please."

Thirty chest compressions.

"Trying to prove me wrong when I've always been wrong, you idiot."

Five, six, seven—

"Sweetheart, come on," he choked back a sob. "Who's going to call me out when I'm being stupid, huh? You know Robin can't do it alone."

Twelve, thirteen, fourteen—

"And you're really going to leave me alone to watch our kids?"

Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two—

"Y/N, baby, please, I can't live without you," he whimpered.

Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thir—

Steve felt his breath leave his lungs when you finally gasped for air.

He quickly turned you to your side, rubbing your back as you choked out all the ocean water that got into your system.

"There you go, you're okay," he whispered, whether to reassure you or himself, he didn't even know anymore. All he was focused on was making sure you were going to be okay.

"S-Stevie?" you coughed out the nickname that was only ever used by you.

It was the equivalent to his nickname for you—sweetheart.

Names that started out to annoy each other but the more often it was used as time passed, it only managed to grow into an endearment that held something warm underneath it. You both were quick to realize that the nicknames you had for each other weren't out of spite anymore.

Neither of you simply addressed it.

"Steady, sweetheart, I'm right here," he reassured, hurriedly getting into your line of sight to stop you from trying to turn around to face him. He gently cupped your cheek, offering you a soft smile when your gaze found him. "I'm not going anywhere."

You nodded as best as you could, your eyes clinging onto his brown ones only for them to screw shut when a shiver ran through your whole body.

"C-Cold," you stammered.

"I know, I know, come here," he said softly, guiding you to sit up before quickly settling behind you. He gently pulled you closer between his legs, his chest pressed against your back as he blanketed his body over yours, rubbing your arms to keep you as warm as possible.

You turned to face him slightly, burying your face into his neck only for you to wince at the slight movement. He quickly tried to steady you again, checking over you twice to look for any visible injury. But he couldn't find any.

"Tell me what hurts," he asked, pressing his lips against your cold forehead as he fully wrapped his arms around you.

"A-Ankle," you whimpered in pain, your grip on his waist tightening and God he hated that sound so much.

You must've rolled it when you jumped, and having landed on it when you reached the water, it definitely made it worse.

"It's okay, you're okay," he murmured, littering kisses against the side of your head to try and keep your mind off it. "Robin already called for help, they should be on their way, alright?"

You gave him a small nod, inching even closer to him, seeking as much warmth from him as possible. Your cold breath was tickling his skin but he didn’t care. Hell, you could be breathing fucking ice and he still wouldn’t give a shit.

As long as you were breathing.

"I need you to stay awake for me, okay?"

"I-I'll try," you whispered.

"First to fall asleep is the biggest loser," he mumbled, squeezing you slightly when he felt your eyes flutter close. "And you wouldn't want me to win this, babe, because I'll be a little shit about it."

"Not f-fair," you choked out a laugh.

"It's plenty fair," Steve chuckled tearfully, ignoring the sudden wetness on his cheeks. He hugged you tighter instead. "So stay awake or you'll lose to me. Again."

"Right there! They're right over there!"

Steve had never been so grateful to hear Robin's voice.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-

"So are you finally going to tell her?"

"Tell her what?" Steve questioned back, unable to take his eyes off of you, soundly sleeping in a hospital bed with your foot now wrapped in a cast.

The doctor had already checked everything and thankfully, there weren't any further injuries apart from your twisted ankle.

Now, all you needed was to rest and recover.

"That you've been in love with her this whole time."

Steve sighed, squeezing your hand before turning to look at his best friend.

"I'm not in love with her, Robs."

"Right," she scoffed, raising a knowing brow. "Because jumping off a cliff with zero hesitation so you could save her is totally normal behavior for someone you claim you hate."

"I never said I hated her," he argued, and it was true. He couldn't think of a single moment where he hated you.

"Yeah, well, you two definitely don't act like you like each other."

"Does she annoy and frustrate the shit out of me? Yes. But I never hated her," he admitted.

Steve didn't know what it was exactly, maybe it was his tiredness muddling his brain, maybe it was from everything that happened in the last couple of hours finally catching up to him, or maybe it was the overwhelming need to confess everything into the open before it was too late—and it almost had been. Either way, he found himself suddenly spewing out all the things that he always just kept to himself.

"She's also been the most constant person in my life, you know? Hell, we basically grew up together. I can't just not care about her," he continued, memories flooding his system before he could even stop it. "She's been so ingrained in my life, her and the cute dresses she wore at those stupid dinners our parents always dragged us to. Her and her stupid competitions whenever our babysitters would bring us to the park together. Her and that stupid dance she always did whenever she won at anything even if it was my expense—she always does this cute little wiggle whenever she won, and that never left her even as we got older," Steve chuckled at the thought.

"And fuck, don't even get me started with how similar our parents are. She's the only one who will always get me when it comes to that," he continued. "And yeah, we compete a lot, but there was no hatred between us. Maybe at the start but all that went away when we learned that whatever our parents were feeding us was bullshit—that they were bullshit.

"And fine, did I sometimes get so annoyed whenever she got a new boyfriend? Yeah. But only because she always had this bad habit of dating fucking assholes. I don't know where she got those dickheads from but every time I see a glimpse of her crying by her window at night I swear to fucking God I would've killed every single one of those assholes if she asked," he gritted, slumping down in his seat with a sigh.

"She deserves to be treated right, you know? She's already experiencing so much shit at home, she doesn't need any more of that anywhere else. Sure, she irritates me to no end but that doesn't mean she's not a sweet girl who always cried whenever some random pet commercial came on the TV during the holidays. Does her competitiveness drive me up the wall? Absolutely. But that doesn't mean I don't feel so fucking proud of her whenever she wins another medal or achieves another milestone. And yeah, I wonder about how she's doing, if she's taking care of herself, if she's getting enough sleep between her work and classes. But that's only because I worry, you know?

"And maybe I do think about her a lot but that doesn't mean I'm in love with…"

Steve blinked.

Well fuck.

"Wow," Robin marveled. "You're stupider than I thought."

"He hit his head as a kid, cut him some slack."

Steve paled at the sound of your voice, swiftly turning red at the thought that you probably heard all the things he said.

He turned to face you, groaning in annoyance when he saw the smug smile on your lips. "You've been awake this whole time?"

"I'll leave you two love birds alone," Robin sang, quickly slipping out of the hospital room and closing the door behind her.

"How much of that did you hear?" Steve asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Enough to say you're stupid," you hummed.

He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat with crossed arms. "I'm not the one who jumped off the cliff and almost died just to prove a fucking point."

"Yeah, well, I guess we're both stupid then," you snorted.

He shrugged. "I guess we are."

"Jesus, you don't have to act so tense. I mean, you've already given me a mouth-to-mouth, we've practically made out already," you scoffed playfully. "I honestly thought I'd die first before swapping spit with you yet here we are."

It was your attempt at alleviating the tension, to throw in a funny quip. But with everything still so fresh in his mind, Steve simply couldn't take it well.

"Don't fucking joke about that will you?" he snapped, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face.

The silence that followed only made the tension worse.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Steve immediately felt bad.

"No, no, no. You didn't do anything wrong, don't apologize," he sighed, meeting your eyes with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. It's just—"

He stopped himself, chewing on his bottom as he looked everywhere but at you when he felt the tears well up again.

"Will you come here?"

Steve took a calming breath and did as you asked, moving his chair closer but didn't attempt anything else than that.

"Stevie," you called when he still wouldn't look at you.

Harshly wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he lifted his head. You smiled at him sweetly, wiggling your fingers to get him to come even closer.

"You scared me back there," he croaked, taking your hand with a squeeze.

"I didn't mean to," you softly said, remorseful and apologetic even though you didn't have to be.

"I know," he murmured, pressing your warm palm against his cheek as he shot you a glare. "Just don't do that again."

"Promise," you giggled, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

Steve leaned closer into your touch. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks to you," you hummed, brows furrowing in thought. "When Marcus got that black eye, you said it was because he was playing dirty on one of your games." You tilted your head knowingly. "That wasn't true, wasn't it?"

Steve shrugged. "He hurt you."

"It was a small bruise on the arm, Steve," you reasoned.

"He shouldn't be giving you a fucking bruise in the first place," he growled, the memory bringing back the same anger he felt when he first saw that bruise. The soft tapping of your finger against his cheek calmed him down. "Sorry."

"Did you lose on purpose to get him expelled?"

"What? No!" he scoffed, offended, rolling his eyes when you giggled. "I tried so fucking hard to win that fight, you know, for you."

"You've always been protective of me," you hummed, taking his hand and interlacing your fingers together.

"Don't think I didn't know it was you who dyed that poor girl's hair green that one year in middle school summer camp," he retaliated.

It was a sharp and piercing scream that woke up the whole camp that morning. Everyone rushed out of bed to see what was going on only to find a girl who once was blonde was now sporting bright green hair in the middle of the crowd, crying her eyes out.

Steve would've thought it was only some silly prank if he didn't know who the girl was. But he did. Because the day before he tried to ask her to be his girlfriend, only for her to turn him down in the most embarrassing and humiliating way possible.

It wasn't difficult for him to find out who the culprit was since he immediately noticed how you kept hiding your hands in your pockets for the next few days after the incident.

The counselors quickly found out that the little menace—whoever she was—decided to use permanent dye on the poor girl's hair instead of something washable.

Your green palms colored you oh so guilty.

"She called you pathetic and gross in front of everyone!" you argued, pouting. "You looked like you were about to cry and I hated it."

Steve's heart warmed at that, a smile on his face despite rolling his eyes. "I wasn't about to cry."

"Yeah well," you shrugged, eyes trained on your intertwined fingers, your thumb playing with his. "I'm the only one who's supposed to be mean to you."

"Hmm," he agreed, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. "I guess we've always been there for each other, huh?"

"I guess so," you giggled, cupping his cheek and tugging him closer.

He stood up from his seat, following your lead until he was pressing his forehead against yours.

"Thank you for saving my life, Steve," you whispered, eyes turning glossy as so many emotions covered your irises, the weight of what almost happened catching up with you.

"You don't have to thank me for that," he said sincerely, brushing the tip of his nose against yours. "I'd do it over and over again in a heartbeat."

You nodded, sniffling, "Still, thank you."

Steve wasn't able to argue some more when you all but kissed him.

The first time Steve felt your mouth on his was a horrible experience considering he was trying to keep you alive.

Now, everything was the complete opposite.

A kiss that was careful but sweet, a hint of nervousness and excitement all the same, completely unhurried yet burning with passion as his lips molded against yours.

But still, it felt like that first gasp of air—a finally.

"I'm in love with you, too, by the way," you murmured as you pulled away, your warm breath tickling his lips.

"Thanks for clarifying," he chuckled, eyes laced with adoration, unable to stop his smile from growing wider, warmer. "I couldn't figure that out from the kiss."

"I mean, you are kinda stupid," you teased.

"We're on that same boat, sweetheart," he chuckled. "I'm sure Robin would remind us about that every single day now."

"Unfortunately," you groaned playfully. "God, she gets annoying when she's right."

"Tell me about it," he hummed, brushing his lips against yours, moving away when you chased it.

You whined.

Steve didn't hesitate to dive back in.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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[jerry-the-leech]

TIRESIAS ART

I’ve got that brain rot. I’m actually lowkey proud of this Ngl

Rambling and singles below

Bro I just got these new pens and istg they are my favorite art supply I love them so much. I genuinely didn’t expect to liek this as much as I did. The side profile one is a bit weird bc it’s not what I’m used to drawing but I still like it. Honestly it’s been a while since I have felt good about my art so this makes me happy. I have been meaning to post this for a WHILEEEE.

@daonedaonlysk @gaygirldoodles @lovely-rants-alot @hellincarnation @itsmylovedaydreamdreamdream @urmumsfan @sleep-deprived-writer @perseus-oh-my-perseus

@witless-winion1 @eldritchnonsensefromthevoid

@songs-of-the-hesperides @nowjumpinthewater

@bat-fam-lover @jeahreading @ember-child-of-hecate

You all have no choice I am forcing you to see this

[ineedjesusverymuch]

Diabolik lovers headcanons pt. 3 (even more stuff)

Hi, it's been a while, no? Even though I feel a bit like I'm screaming into an empty void, I do enjoy writing my thoughts down.

The Diabolik Lovers fandom gets smaller and smaller and since just a few blogs are active, I wanted to post more! I know that without Rejet producing more content (that is canon and not "just" new merchlines, even though I deeply love the art), the dl fandom is bound to shrink. But: now, there are a lot of very respectful blogs, which I do enjoy! The toxicity just shrinks a lot on smaller fandoms. And I really love that no slander of Yui is happening!

Now, lets get into the headcanons after my short ramble.

I won't write anything nsfw this time, just a quick psa.

⚠ I'll try to mark anything that could be triggering with this: ❗trigger warning ❗

⚠This post will briefly discuss topics like: parental trauma and childhood trauma.⚠

The topics in this post will be mostly happy or cute (?), asks are always appreciated!

As always, I'll try to be at least a bit true to canon. But... Well.

this time I did not just ramble about Kanato, I think I talked about Laito quite a bit though...

Headcanons under the cut ⬇

First of all: Shu.

Genuinely loves dogs (remember the scene with Yuma? The little puppy? Yes.)

All fluffy dogs are loved, just as all other dogs.

Loveslovesloves Golden retrievers and sheperd dogs. Likes big dogs a bit more than small dogs, more to hug.

Deeply hates toads. Not frogs, toads. He thinks they're quite ugly and hates how big they can get

Shu is Not dumb but being a little fuck by not-obeying-karlheinz's-orders-like-being-good-in-school

Has only socks with terrible obnoxious patterns, like the weirdest psychedelic shit? I'm talking about rainbow colored mushrooms on sunyellow backdrop and comical faces. (Ngl, it's a vibe)

Huuuuge crush on Yuma. He likes his long hair and the fact that Yuma doesn't try to lie to him. Shu likes honest people and Yuma with his blunt approach is amazing for him. Also, he is convinced that Yuma is very simple to understand, nit at all complicated like some other people.

Next in Line is Reiji! What a surprise.

Has a huge collection of Hand cream and lotion. He has those long, slim fingers and his nails are manicured so impeccable that they don't even look real anymore.

Wears only black socks. Its a hassle to sort them since some of them have different lengths or fabrics

Has pet rats. Definitely pet rats.

They're cute and all but he's named ever single one outrageous names like Berthold and Brunhilde, the typical old german names you'd read in very old books.

Reiji Is able to speak not only german, japanese and the demon language but can also speak latin (even though shu is on a much higher level), a bit of French and russian.

Would be the type to do things simply out of sprite. Shu once mentioned not liking blue curtains and now all curtains are blue.

Has an academic rivalry with Ruki. All the other students (including Ruki) think they're flirting, only Reiji is oblivious.

Next: our boy Ayato!

Hates bees with a passion.

Kanato once "gifted" him a box of bees out of spite (the little shit put the whole bee hive in that box), ever since then Ayato runs as soon as humming from a bee can be heard in a ten mile ratio. (Being outside is very exhausting for everyone, himself included)

Very much enjoys shows like Brigderton and say yes to the dress. Loves the drama and the intrigue.

Ayato actually? Doesn't hate his brothers??? He likes to bicker with them, especially his other triplets, but genuinely cares about them. He's just a bit too emotionally stunted on that front (thank you cordelia).

Likes not only takoyaki but also any type of japanese festival food. I'm talking about mochi, dango and tayaki, etc.

the type to have lactose intolerance and ignore it completely to seem "cool"

went on an ice cream date with Yui once and spent the entire night in the bathroom because he was too proud to say no

Actually wears makeup? I'm not talking about full-on glam but a bit concealer and eyeliner. Ayato has red mascara and omfg he looks so good with it???

Laito and he enjoy playing those multiplayer games for nintendo

He has an entire village on animal crossing that is managed by him and Laito together

Next in line: Kanato!

I have made quite long posts about him in the past so I wont elaborate on some things that I already wrote down.

Very skilled at makeup. Like top-level skill. Wears eyeliner, liptint or gloss and glitter under and on his eyes. Light blush is a must-have!

Can crochet and knit but is often too impatient to make bigger projects

Will hyperfocus on things like historical fashion and garments for weeks at a time.

Once was so focused on the black plague that he didn't drink blood for like five weeks and passed out until he was fed some blood

Gremlin.

Has a friendship with Yuma? They plant plants together and since Kanato (canonically) likes apples, Yuma will bring him some after plucking.

Kanato enjoys tea time with Reiji

Kanato also likes to gossip with Laito. Or more like: Laito gossips and Kanato sits next to him and munches on some sweets.

Huge crush on Azusa. (I went into more detail on that in earlier posts but I'll answer any questions on that matter! Feel free to send me asks or prompts!)

He and Ayato have both the same interest for old fairy tales and will read them together on those nights were everything just comes up again

❗Laito will comfort him when Kanato has nightmares and Kanato will be there for Laito, since they went through a bit if the same things even though Laito's was much more intense

Cuddle time with Shu

Quiet time with Subaru

Now Laito!

Can speak a fuckton of languages.

I don't care if its canon but Laito is like B2 Level of French. Is able to discuss theological matters is perfect french.

Can also speak italian like all the triplets but he's also able to speak a bit german, polish and romanian

Friends with Kou! ❗They're really good ffriends and can understand what the other went though. Laito stays often over night at Kou's and they spend the night watching funny movies (Deadpool is Laitos current favourite)

Laito enjoys comics. He likes Marvel and DC a lot!

We know that Laito likes crossword puzzles but like. He's so good at them it's almost frightening. Is able to not only do japanese ones but also french.

So intelligent???

Not only booksmart but also "people smart". He notices the smallest things on people around him, constantly analizes everyone. Knows a lot about medicine and psychology.

Loves learning new things.

Has immense knowledge about the universe, is able to name every single star sign on the sky.

in the games we often see Laito wear casual clothing. My headcanon is that he likes the sort of style skaters usually wear.

Really likes cargo pants since everything fits in all of the pockets

Wears oversized hoodies and shirts

Has those two piercings on his left earlobe but also has a lip piercing on the right lower lip and a septum that he got when he was bored

As soon as he's alone, he let's the perverted fassade fall down. He doesn't smile a lot actually, more along the lines of a serious face most of the time.

It took a bit for him to be able to drop that fake face of his in front of Kou and his other triplets but after some time he got used to not fake being friendly and perverted.

Dropped the infamous "bitch-chan" after some time, now uses Yui's actual name. The -chan stayed though.

Last but not least: Subaru!

has very soft plushies in his coffin

Loves those tiny fluffy bunnies. Lionheads especially!

Very gentle with animals.

Animals love him (#disneyprincesssubaru)

once tried to color his hair, it went horrible and his hair was a patchy muddy color for eight weeks

Wears eyeliner. The black, brush-tip ones

Long eyelashes. They genuinely look fake.

So pretty

Is naturally more fair and frail-looking than some other vampires so he tries to roughen himself up

❗Bruises his knuckles and bites his lips to look more dangerous. Even though the scowl he usually wears is more than enough to ward off anyone who wants to pick a fight...

Also friends with Kou (Kou really collects Sakamakis like pokemons)

Wears black nail polish but it chips off pretty fast due to the gardening Subaru does

Bonding time with Kanato is applying nail polish together

Enjoys playing pool and darts with Shu when his older brother has enough motivation

Knows he is fucked up from all the stuff with his mother and wouldn't be opposed to therapy (at least after some sweet talk from Yui... And a whole lot of promises for new seeds for his garden and a new set of black clothes)

Has a motor bike and it's his entire pride

Polishes it every week and has a lot of clothes for biking

Takes trips to somewhere when he's bored and/or annoyed by his other brothers

does not realize that Kou flirts with him every time they do something together (obliviousness lies in the family)

So! That's it? I guess? Sometime in the future I'll write about the Mukamis too, I promise!

If there's anything you'd like me to write about, just send me an ask.

And to whoever reads this: I appreciate the time you took to read my post and I hope you have an amazing day/night !

you are truly appreciated!