#he def smells like the ocean all the time

[thatreliableguy]

Tetsuya!

[p0rnd3aler]

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE NSFW THINK PIECE/DRABBLE

I’m depraved

Rafayel is the neediest. He’s got a lot of insecurities/abandonment issues from his first love and he def has an anxious attachment style. He’s also absolutely the type of person to be codependent (Hello?? “Join me let’s drown in the ocean together”????? Like, come on). He’s constantly trying to do every little thing with you, almost like he can’t breathe unless it’s air that’s already been filtered through your lungs.

However, all big baby behavior™️ considered, he definitely knows how to woo you. I feel like since he’s Lemurian and also an artist, he only knows how to love a person in the most deeply devoted and romantic way. He’s also very careful with his heart and who he gives it to, once he decides it’s truly and solely yours that’s it. There’s no one else. But you also have to honor that with proper care, he’s very sensitive.

Anyway, I feel like he fucks in a way that’s slow, very sensual. The kind of love making where he takes over all of your senses, all you can feel is his touch, all you can smell is his sweat and cologne, all you can taste is him on your tongue, and all you can see and hear are his face and the sweet words of devotion he whimpers in your ear.

He’s also very easy to rile up.

Zayne is boring to me. Like I get the appeal he’s very hot and he’s also very stable (in a romantic sense) and healthy but I just can’t fantasize about that. Like yeah he’s a busy ass surgeon who will always make time for you no matter what and he’s super devoted and always caring for you in little ways, but also mf will make you take a water break during sex if you’re too wet bc he doesn’t want you to get dehydrated. Im done.

Honestly I think I’m biased against him bc the way he talks to MC just reminds me of this horrid man I met at a bus stop once who immediately started trying to tell me what to do/give me life advice. I get Zayne is qualified and the guy at the bus stop was not but idc if y’all want me to put effort into writing for him ur gonna have to submit it into the requests baby, moving on.

SYLUS. I feel like everybody thinks he’s just some big ol’ nasty freak but they’re WRONG. THEYRE WRONG ABOUT HIM.

Don’t get me wrong he’s definitely fucking tweaking when you first meet him, like just going apeshit off the bat with no context for us. But also? Once you get to know him? Bitch I’ll kill for that man you do not know. This mf drops everything for you.

Important arms deal he’s been trying to set up for a year or going to the arcade with you to get plushies out of a claw machine? Deal = cancelled

The fearless leader of the N109 zone who blows up anyone who perturbs him slightly. MF contributes 50% of the carbon in the atmosphere alone with the amount of shit he literally actually blows up with bombs. But you? You may break into his house and handcuff him to his bed in his sleep while trying to steal a brooch off of him. he doesn’t give a fuck. he’s in love with you. Set his house on fire! He won’t care! He’ll just buy a new one!

As rough as he is around the edges he’s completely smitten. “You should know I adore you. There is no love purer than mine.” Like girl don’t fucking play with me. Is he mentally ill? Absolutely. But he is so devoted, so careful with you. “I’m never annoyed when we do things together.” It’s literally like he’s learning how to be a human being for once and he doesn’t care about losing the coldness or sharpness he once had because you’re more than enough to replace any absence the loss of those thing may bring. He knows he’s getting soft and doesn’t care. He doesn’t try to stop it. To kill for you is nothing to him. Not even a second thought. He kills all the time. But he would never harm again if the violence ever came in between you two.

And I think that dedication, that devotion totally translates itself into how he makes love to you. He’s definitely a filthy talker, I think he says some NASTY shit during sex, just because he likes seeing you squirm and feel how your skin gets hot from his words. But I don’t think he likes hurting you. He wouldn’t do anything to harm you. He’ll spank you yeah, and he’ll tap or squish your cheeks to get your attention. But he only wants to bring you pure, carnal pleasure when it comes to sex. If you even think “that feels good” he’s like a dog with a bone. You get no rest when he’s there you only get mind-numbing pleasure. He’s a tease, he’ll poke lighthearted fun at how loud you’re being, ask you who you think can hear you two while you’re being nasty. But he knows you. He knows what you love, what gets you off, and he cares to learn all of this because of how much he loves you God I’m SICK

Xavier is filthy. That man laps up your pussy like a thirsty dog. The freakiest nastiest mf out of all of them. He won’t show any sexual prowess or interest for months I think. I’m not sure he’s even aware of his powers. Your relationship will literally be based around his chaotic sleeping “schedule” (that shit is not a schedule) and relaxing between missions together. All things considered, you guys spend almost every waking (and sleeping) hour together. Work, dates, naps, eating, it’s almost always together.

It’s not until he hears you getting hit on all night that his composure finally starts to crack.

Three months of the sweetest, purest boyfriend you could ever ask for. Your sweet silly boy, who starts silently pouting all night. It’s not until you two finally find a hotel to stay at for the night, that he finally starts loosening up.

“I’m not a young fool, you know. I don’t take what’s in front of me for granted” he quotes the guys hitting on you earlier, which he heard through your ear piece. Then he recites every time another guy hit on you while you two were on your mission. He’s a jealous jealous jealous boy. He HATES other guys vying for your attention. It just makes him want to whisk you away and bounce you on his dick so loud that every other guy can hear it. When he feels jealousy, he feels the need to mark, claim, devour you so no one else can try and steal you. He gets himself worked up. Stewing and agonizing over the thought and the memory of another guy trying to get to you so much that he can’t even think of sleeping. He gets completely taken over by the urge to have your every reaction solely based on him and what he gives you. I think he fights off these feelings for a long time, up until the protocore mission in the misty invasion memory. He just barely keeps it together until you’re rubbing all over him, pulling him closer to whisper his name in his ear, he just can’t take it. He needs to hear you say it louder. He needs everyone to hear you say his name.

He fucks you so sloppy, the kind of man who does not care what means he has to use as long as the end is what he wants. He wants you covered in marks of his making, he wants you to smell like him, he wants you to have trouble walking the next day, and he wants that asshole who tried hitting on you at work to ask you “what’s wrong? You look like you’re having trouble walking”

And as soon as the guy asks that you look over to Xavier, who has the most pleased little shit eating grin on his face.

The craziest part is that after he gets it all out of his system he’s back to being the little innocent sweet boy. But you know his secret, and he likes that you know it.

[queenbeehistoria]

so. in aot, it's canon that the characters smell like ten cans of bounce that ass. literally in the scene where they find that ocean, it's the first time they touched water in MONTHS. they smell like straight ass. speaking of ass, people is saying it's canon that they have SKID MARKS. however, denial is a river in egypt. and i refuse to believe that EVERYBODY smells like wet booty, dick, and pussy (in the words of moneybagg yo).

so, aot characters that (i feel like) take showers.

you'll find HITCH dead before you'll ever find her with skid marks in her drawls. my girl take baths, okay? she may not have soap but all she needs is a lake and whatever cleaning supplies they have. people judging her for wanting to smell good when titans are eating people, but she'll rather smell good and get eaten than smell like shit and get eaten. they can judge and laugh at her all they want, but she's not walking around with dookie stains in her drawls & killing birds with her breath 🤷���

here's the thing. MIKASA does take showers. she might skip a day or two, but she isn't as bad as the others. her only issue is that FUCK ASS SCARF. THAT FUCKING SCARF SMELLS LIKE WW1 PRESERVES. SHE CAN KILL TITANS WITH THAT BITCH ALONE LIKEEEE.... that scarf gets washed like three times a year, four if she feels like it. but other than that, she doesn't stink <3.

baby, this is LEVI. you KNOW he takes showers. when he hops in the shower, that water is crystal clear. not a dirt spec to be seen. he don't give a fuck that he's fighting titans, he ain't fighting them smelling like dog shit. his area is clean and so is his body.

ERWIN takes showers and he's getting every spot. there's not a single dirty spec on his body. he's so clean that the mf is shining. he gets in the tub for sure.

PETRA also takes showers. she might skip some days, but it isn't dookie stains bad. like she hits up them lakes for sure. the water isn't brown when she showers, it's just some dead skin here and there. other than that, my good sis is clean.

HISTORIA + YMIR def showers. "but they was in the 104th, and they didn't have baths!" NO, THEY WASH THEIR ASS. any source of water, historia is dunking herself in it. if she ain't finna be smelling bad, her girl isn't gonna be smelling bad either. SKID MARKS WHERE?

[dumplingsfordays]

Reading 30 Strales and omg Blade smelling like citrus sounds amazing. I've been playing for about 3 weeks and after fulling catching up on the trailblazer quests I was like dang blade kills people a lot right, he probably smells like blood 24/7 that's so gross. All this to say... reject logic, I agree that blade smells like citrus. Do you have thoughts on what any of the others would smell like?

what the hsr men smell like

ft. blade, gepard, jing yuan, dan heng, luocha, and welt

cw!: mentions of blood, no pronouns for reader mentioned, implied relationship, cuddling, swearing, super fluffy :)

note - thank you so much for reaching out to me omg 🥺 i reject logic too so that's how the whole citrus thing came to be ajsjdk. also i know absolutely nothing about colognes/fragrances so i'm sorry if i mess some of these up ;-; hope you're having a great day/night though pookie <3

and as always, thank you for reading :)

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blade

~ as mentioned above, def smells like citrus and bergamot.

~ sometimes you can catch a little metallic-y whiff of (cough cough) def not blood (cough cough), but it never lasts for long - when he hugs you, the smell of oranges invades your senses like a light summer breeze~

~ and don't get me started on how obsessed he is w this scent. if he stays somewhere for even 1-2 days, you know he's bringing along his 3 freakin citrus-scented candles!!

~ please run your fingers thru his hair when you're hanging out or cuddling. please. he will melt from headpats and your fingers will smell like his shampoo for the rest of the day, and since you love the scent of gentle lime, why not?

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gepard

~ omg this man!! he's totally giving cashmere + hot cocoa for some reason??? he doesn't really use cologne/fragrances and prefers his natural scent, but does use cashmere and vanilla body wash + shampoo.

~ like sure, after a busy day at work or training he'll kinda smell like sweat but will immediately take a shower when he gets home. he hates being sweaty and thinks it's icky if he does for too long-

~ and when you snuggle up to him for cuddle time on a day off, you just wanna stay there forever bc his scent envelops you like a blanket on freezing winter nights <3

~ overall very comforting and warm, just like Gepard himself!! (cries in human heater vibes)

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jing yuan

~ musk + cinnamon + a little bit of spice, and def uses cologne.

~ actually wants to smell nice and puts in the effort!! changes his sheets, washes his clothes, showers every day (but washes his hair every 3 days or so bc haircare)

~ speaking of haircare, this man's big on it. most of his haircare products smell like the aforementioned musk and cinnamon, but he uses this one cream that smells like cloves and you freakin adore it. sometimes you borrow it so that whenever you're going out and he's busy with his big boy general duties, it feels like he's with u <3

~ and ughhhh his bedroom smells like him so whenever you guys have le cuddle time you fall asleep almost immediately. ofc he eventually does too (bc he loves how u smell too pookie, don't tell him i said that though he would kill me aksjskd) and you're so warm and soft and how could he not fall asleep??

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dan heng

~ very ocean-y (salty?), small hints of eucalyptus and cypress as well. when he uses cologne he uses very, very little, but he actually has 2 separate colognes, one for the ocean-y cypress, and the other for the eucalyptus

~ i feel like this is kinda a bold statement but he uses bath bombs. like he gets a bath bomb that smells like mint, gets in the bathtub w it, and glides his thumbs over its surface bc he likes the texture-

~ he might not be the cleanest man in the universe, but he sure does smell like it!! something about eucalyptus and cypress and mint and a hint of ocean breeze is chillingly refreshing and tbh you kinda dig it :D

~ mornings w dan heng. omfg they are ethereal bc he literally smells angelic??? like a gentle freshness yk and the pillows smell like him too so lazy mornings are def a thing that you guys love sharing <3

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luocha

~ oooo he's kinda a wild card imo, but personally, i think that he smells like jasmine + honey (not just bc of his idle + technique!! pinky promise)

~ he lowkey smells a little like freshly-cut grass, very light n refreshing. however, jasmine takes center stage, and if you really bury your face in his long-ass hair, you can catch a whiff of chamomile :))

~ super big on herbal teas and honey as well - i hc that he brings a water bottle w him that's just green tea n honey so when you're close to his face (cuddling, hugging, etc) the honey adds this sweetness that blends super well w the aforementioned chamomile + jasmine <3

~ like jing yuan, super involved in haircare!! he does use less products, but you still freakin adore this chamomile shampoo that he uses. avid believer in aromatherapy, prob uses essential oils (not for curing cancer ofc)

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welt

~ coffee and amberwood!! both are deep and rich scents and he probably uses cologne in very small amounts aksjdks

~ coffee addict and the scent faintly lingers, so the amberwood is really more prominent, but overall i promise he doesn't smell like dust or smth, he's not that old he takes good care of himself :))

~ burns incense in his room bc it helps him relax and concentrate on his drawings, so he does have a little resin smell to him, but you don't mind bc it's actually quite comforting. he once almost caused a fire bc he dropped a lit match onto the carpet but we don't talk about that-

~ loves to hug you so whenever he does, you always feel so cozy and loved and aaaaa ya'll are so cute i can't <3 and since he's pretty tall he sometimes rests his head on top of yours and hugs you from behind like that and you melt immediately bc it's like a blanket!! but smells super nice!!

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[bbybaku]

hii! could we get some dabi/touya college boyfriend nsfw and sfw headcanons? thank uu

yall are gonna have to hear me the fuck out on this one okay

the 18+ part is below the cut 🫡

also sorry this took me like 9 months to write lmao

sfw

i think you and touya would be in the same big friend group that likes to drink and party together

okay so touya started off in the dorms of your big ass university as an engineering major and very quickly realized he didn't really fw it

butttttt he did fw the night scene

and his rich father paying him to be there

so touya barely passes freshman year

transfers to the community college down the road

moves into a party house w his boyz

i feel like he would either be like a blue-collar construction worker or a bar back until he's 21 when he can be a bartender

he's kind of a dick but he's also friends w everyone?

he likes fat girls

especially bipoc thic girls

like homeboy likes tits and ass and is not picky

i feel like he's a bit of a dick in an endearing way

like he's a college aged man and he's a lil selfish but you know he doesn't mean it

prob not the best bf all the time

he means well

hes a retired player who met you and is now obsessed with you and only you

yall are also lowkey on and off

but you’re working on it!!

that being said I'm sure he would be nice to you and care about you but he def has issues that he is not addressing

back to our party boy

he would order pizza for the after-party

always hosts the pregame

and the party lol

goes to the clubs !!

occasionally gets drunk and gets in fights (its hot af)

he would be generous w the ~party favors~ if you know what i mean

*wipes nose*

*cough cough*

has probably tried every drug under the sun at least once

so maybe not the best memory lol

like not a bad guy

but probably not the best

always has cigarettes

probably a Marlboro guy

or American spirits

always wearing all-black or all-dark colors

always smells really good

his room is actually really nice like he has a big bed and mood lights and some crystals

goes to the gym often but has a sleeper build

so looks scrawny but has some muscle when he takes his shirt off

prob has a stupid tattoo somewhere

like a cool one on his lower stomach

but also has a tramp stamp of a heart with wings

always has like an ocean sented canlde burning in his bedroom

has the most beautiful fluffy hair that he puts such little effort into

almost always has a 5 o'clock shadow

like does not shave his face consistently enough but he is hot so its okay

he likes to sit with his head between your legs

yall watch movies together often

like actually watch movies

he has a silver nose ring

drives like a red mustang

is prob lowkey a car guy

is not on any social media but is always watching weird youtube videos and texting his siblings

i feel like it’s a fantasy of his to get into a fight for you

like he dreams of some guy trying shit with you only for him to step in at the perfect time and beat the shit out of him

he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you

but he would beat anyone who hurts you

nsfw

average size but a bit girthy

homeboy can fuck

like is experienced

he’s a retired whore

you are the reason he retired lol

can find the clit on anyone

you don't go home until you come at least once

quickies

all the time

anywhere you can think of

bathroom at parties

unfinished basements

empty classroom

storage closet

prob has a hand signal to you for if yall are out drinking in your group and he wants to fuck

this man oozes sex appeal

like you're not in the mood and then he's wearing all black and smells like that and suddenly you're ferral

real good at dirty talk

"behave"

"that's what I like to hear"

"have you always been this much of a slut?"

just to name a few

talks like that in and out of the bedroom

does not sext but will not hesitate to invite you over when he's horny

fucking in his room during a party

and then returning to the party

will buy you food after

fucks you to hip-hop

like good music

Red LED lights in his room

has a big ass mirror

doggy or pro bono in front of said mirror

*chefs kiss*

does not want kids so he always has a ton of condoms

he doesn't like hickies but loves when you scratch up his back

car sex

he likes to choke you

especially during makeouts

like will choke you more during a makeout than he will during sex

prob lowkey has a porn addiction so can get a little carried away sometimes

but will instantly stop if you say something or if he picks up on you like liking the vibe

he's loud as fuck during sex

like his roommates will pound on the walls

doesn't eat you out super often,, but when he does?

good god

amazing

prob will ask you to do some weird shit every now and then

like clown makeup

or to top him and call him weird names

you're normally down for it

its fun because he gets so into it

is pretty straightforward about what he wants

which is nice since you never have to guess

m.list

[lvrcpid]

how everyone reacted to you and neteyams death. (requested.)

includes: jake feeling shitty about himself. sullyfamilyxgn!reader. angst. if you haven’t read the main story, read it before reading this here

jake:

probably felt the worst. you always voiced how he was too hard on the both of you, you really only having the courage to stand up to your father. he didn’t really have time to grieve the loss of his two children but when he did , it hit him hard. jake isn’t one to cry, but realizing you two were gone forever tore that wall down he tried so desperately to keep up.

neytiri:

i feel so bad for her. her grief turned into anger. she wished it was her instead of the two of you. she carried your body while jake carried neteyams body to the bottom of the ocean. she was mainly upset and confused. why did both of you have to die? neytiri knew she wasn’t going to get that answer till the day she was reunited with her children. she just misses the lights of her life. her first steps into motherhood

lo’ak:

oh god. lo’ak was a mess when you and neteyam passed. frantically asking everyone if they knew why this happened, nobody could give an answer, they just didn’t know. baby beats himself up over it pretty badly and blames himself like it was all his fault :( you were his rock and neteyam was his idol. now it’s all up to him to carry your legacies until he takes his last breath, finally getting to see his siblings. probably doesn’t wanna go to the tree of souls, he’s only 14 it’s a lot of emotions to handle.

kiri:

shuts down immediately. probably stops going into the water since it’s possibly a trigger for her. definitely keeps your guys’ things in her hammock and sleeps with them since they still smell like you both. probably gives lo’ak a few items to give him peace at night. she probably has nightmares as well :( constantly huddled under neytiri telling her she misses you guys.

tuk:

it breaks my heart to write this ngl. poor tuk cries nonstop. it’s hard to get her to stop but when she does she kind of forgets. toddles her way over to your hammocks to ask to play and jake has to quietly remind her that you both aren’t coming home. cue waterworks. probably sits in neteyams spot for dinner and yours for breakfast. poor baby didn’t wanna move from your bodies , convincing herself you both were just sleeping :(

bonus!

neteyam:

it took him about a few days to process you both had died. he didn’t wanna freak you out or anything so he didn’t mention it to you, he wanted you to come to terms with it on your own. he felt like it was all his fault , you were robbed of life because of him. neteyam felt so guilty . like the guilt was eating him alive almost. constantly apologizing. he wanted to make the best out of it so he would constantly take you to meet passed family members he’d already met and take you to do your favorite things you did while you were alive.

a.n// NOW YALL DEF HATE ME FOR THIS. i hoped anonie who requested this likes it mwah mwah

[saylorsaysstop]

Third Date Etiquette | Bucky Barnes

a/n: Bucky is def my comfort character and writing for him when I haven't in so long is AHHHH. please enjoy 💗

pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

The ingredients lay before you on the table. Potatoes, onions, garlic, carrots, and most importantly–chicken. Your nerves were wracked as you studied the contents of the recipe over and over, practically committing it to memory. It was your third date with the extremely captivating and handsome man, Bucky Barnes. You two quite literally ran into one another at the local Starbucks–you with a very sweet and frothy latte, Bucky with a bitter iced black coffee. 

“Hi,” Bucky had said to you, piercing blue eyes like windows to the soul. You immediately took comfort. Weird, but you felt safe and you hadn’t been in his presence all but for 30 seconds. 

“Hi,” you answer with a sheepish smile, admiring your hands. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” 

He smiled in the friendliest of ways. It wasn’t every day you slammed into the hard chest of a man who looked as though he just stepped off of the latest Men’s GQ issue. His scent was homey, earthy. Woodsy and aromatic, he smelled like citrus and sex. The good kind of sex, too. Mouth-watering sex, the kind that will have your toes curling and aching at a memory recalled throughout your normal day. 

Introductions were quickly exchanged and you were shocked when the stranger who you found to be Bucky asked for your number. By the end of the day, he asked you to dinner, and now just a few weeks later this was lucky date number three. And you offered to cook for him. Your grandmother said that a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. So with that information tucked away nicely in your brain, you asked if he had any food allergies, and mentioned chicken, and Bucky was immediately on board. He offered to bring the wine. 

As you began to prepare your chicken and cut up your veggies, you heard the knock on your apartment door. A soft smile spans across your face as you wash up your hands and race for the door, eager like a teenager falling in love for the first time. Inhaling slowly to try and dampen the quick thud of your heart, you check your reflection in the mirror and ensure you look presentable. Opening the door, Bucky stands there in a pair of dark jeans that hug thick thighs wonderfully, a navy blue v-neck tee, and his jacket. In his hand is a bouquet of roses and the bottle of wine he promised to bring.

“Hey, Doll,” he smiles. It didn’t take him long to give you a sweet little pet name, and ‘doll’ was so fitting, as if he came straight out of the 1950s. 

“Hello, handsome.” you say breathlessly, ushering him to come inside. He steps over the threshold and pops a gentle kiss onto your cheeks, his warm lips and slight scruff a perfect mixture that sends your heart into overdrive and an ocean down below. 

You take the flowers and wine from him, laughing over your shoulder as he comments on your sweet little apartment. “It’s very cozy in here.” he laughs, admiring the bookshelf in the corner filled to the brim with all of your favorite reads. From historical romance to paranormal, all the way to romantasy and the occasional dark romance, you had something for every mood. 

“Thank you!” you beam. “It’s not much, but it’s home.” 

Bucky felt his heart soften at that. It’s not much but it’s home. There was nothing more he wanted in this world than to feel at home. To be quite honest, he hadn’t felt the essence of home since Steve, and he wasn’t so certain that he’d ever get to experience it again. But then there you were… bumping into him in that coffee shop. With your bright smile, ease of conversation, and breathtaking beauty. He was smitten and starstruck by you. 

“The flowers are gorgeous, Bucky. Thank you so much.” You exhale as you place the vase of water and flowers as a centerpiece on your kitchen table. Bucky looked around, noticing the prepped chicken sitting in a stainless steel roasting pan. Veggies were lined around it like a little bed for the chicken to rest on. He smiled to himself, eager to have a woman offer to cook for him on a date. It wasn’t something he was used to and he wouldn’t take for granted the sweet gesture. 

“I’m glad you like them.” He answers. You look at his jacket and laugh.

“Go on, make yourself comfy. Take your coat off. You can lay it over one of the chairs.” 

Bucky wets his lips as he shimmies out of his leather and lays it over the back of the wooden chair as you instructed. He admired the full view of you for the first time tonight. You wore a dress that dropped just to your knees and a pair of blush pink flats. You wanted something semi-formal but comfortable. The dress hugged your curves and Bucky’s mouth watered at the image of his hands tracing every single one, committing them to memory. He opened and closed the fist of his metal limb, his eyes fluttering shut. He wanted desperately to know how you tasted and not just what lay beneath that dress and panties he coould only imagine looked like–but your mouth. Your mouth looked so sweet and delectable, lips that were made to fit perfectly against his.

“Do you need help with anything?” Bucky asked, gazing around at the nicely-kept kitchen. You had cleaned up as you went along cooking this evening. 

“Yeah… You can make yourself useful.” You smirk with a playful tone to your voice. “You can open that bottle of wine while I grab us two glasses… You grabbed my favorite.” 

Bucky laughed. “I remembered you ordering it on our first date.” 

You stalled in front of the cabinets, the memory of that first day clouding your mind. How much of a gentleman he was despite everyone saying that chivaraly was dead. He pulled out your chair, let you wear his jacket on the way out because it was practically freezing, and he walked you to your doorstep where he kissed you goodnight. Not on the lips, but on the cheek, because he wanted to set the standard with you–that you were worth more than jumping headfirst. He wanted to feel you out, take his time. After all, you would be the first woman he’d grown to fancy in a very long time… and after Sam’s whistling over the picture Bucky showed him of you once he confiscated your socials, Sam was hollering for Bucky to quickly lock it down. 

“You paid attention.” you giggle, realizing that the wine glasses were sitting on the very top shelf. Grumbling, you were about to grab the stepstool before a warm hand ghosted across yours and a hard chest was felt against your back. Bucky effortlessly grabbed two glasses and locked eyes with you, his eyes not helping but to drop to your lips. 

If you weren’t trying to impress him with your cooking skills, you would’ve forgotten dinner all together and jumped straight to dessert. 

Bucky smiled at you as he unloaded the two glasses into your grasp before he went to work on popping the cork. You were enveloped with that homey scent once more, that citrus sending a shock appeal through your loins, your eyes fluttering closed. If you weren’t paying attention to maintaining your balance, you might just pooled to the floor then and there. 

As he popped the cork and you put the chicken in the oven and set a timer on your phone, he offered you a glass. 

“Cheers,” You smiles, clinking your glass to his and taking a sip. The feel of the wine on your tongue was smooth and silky, causing you to ponder if Bucky’s tongue felt the same. You lick your lips as you sat the glass down and admire him. 

“What?” Bucky asks.

Smirking, you shake your head. “I’m just surprised is all.” 

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow at the statement. “Surprised?”

You nod your head. “How I happened to score running directly into the arms of someone this good looking.” 

Your comment on his appearance sent a flush down the back of his neck. Bucky Barnes was not the kind of man that blushed, but he suddenly felt an odd sense of heat rise on the apples of his cheeks. He tucked his tongue into the pocket of his cheek and chuckled, cursing under his breath at how a woman, for the first time in his life, had the upper hand on him. 

“You’re all for flattery tonight.” Bucky chuckles. 

“It’s the truth.” You don’t back away. That was another thing that pulled Bucky into your orbit. He loved that you said anything that came to mind. It didn’t matter how outlandish or awkward it could sound, he loved it. You spoke your mind. You were the epitome of fearless and he knew he could use some more of that in his life. 

The longer you two stood there and the silence grew, it was one of comfort. You both drank from your glasses and Bucky knew that if he didn’t take his chance now, he wouldn’t ever do it. He stepped closer and circled a hand around your waist, dropping low on your hip. The feel of his large hand through the fabric of your dress sent a jolt of electricity down your spine as you peered up at him. 

“Jumping to dessert first?” You dare to ask.

“Doll, dessert has been on my mind since I woke up this morning.” Bucky drawled, his voice rich and deep. His warm breath fanned over your bottom lip as he searched your eyes, waiting for the invitation, eager for your confirmation that you too wanted some dessert before dinner. 

Grinning wildly, the tip of your head and the subtle pushing into his hard frame was all he needed. Bucky caught your thin between his fingertips and dipped low, his lips slotting against yours. 

Perfect fit. 

His lips molded to yours. They were soft and pleasant and warm and everything you could’ve dreamed of. He kissed you with such softness that it stole the breath from your lungs. You unhooked your fingers from around the stem of your wineglass and raised them, laying them over his shoulders. You took the leap of courage and deepened the kiss, being the first to run your tongue across his bottom lip, asking for permission to infiltrate.

Bucky opened his mouth a little wider and your tongues touched which sent both of you into a frenzy. A low grunt of approval climbed up Bucky’s throat followed by a breathy moan leaving yours. He turned you both so that the curve of your back was pressed into the island. He pushed forward, your body folding slightly across the granite as he kissed you deeper, kissed you as if you were the oxygen that was snatched from his lungs, kissed you like there would be no tomorrow. 

“Bucky,” You gasp his name as you pull away for a breath of fresh air. But you were so desperate to kiss him again. You never wanted to stop. 

Bucky’s eyes flickered with a deep sense of want and you had a strong feeling this date might just go to third base. 

He smirked down at you, the playfulness of his eyes putting you on high alert. His thumb grinded into your hip and in a flash, he had you lifted and your bottom on the counter. Wedging his body between your knees, a shrill of laughter escaped you as you drape your arms over his shoulders. Bucky comes back in, diving head first for more, this time with a lot more passion.

He didn’t hold back. Bucky’s hands gripped your sides and danced up until he was grabbing your face, the gasp flooding your lips at the mix of cold of his metal hand and warmth of his flesh one. You groan louder against his mouth as you tangle your legs around his waist and locking your ankles. 

“How much longer on that timer?” Bucky asked between deepening kisses. 

You glance down at your phone. “30 minutes.” You giggle. 

Talk about some third date etiquette. You wanted this more than anything.

“30 is all I need, Doll.” Bucky laughs, lifting you off the counter and leading you to the couch where he climbs on top of you, his hard body pressing against yours.

[legoflowrs]

HEADCANNONS

c/w: drinking, drugs, addiction, abuse, slight nsfw

AGED UP TO 18 MY PEOPLE!!!!

A/N: ok so in the headcannons he’s with Stan cause Style is very dear to my heart but in the relationship headcannons he’s with reader xx

Kyle Broflovski

- Massive fucking NERD!! (pls i love nerds).

- Got straight A’s throughout high school.

- Was on the honour roll and was on student council.

- Firm believer in basketball Kyle supremacy.

- Came out as Demisexual and Bisexual (male leaning).

- Stopped being super strict on Kosher throughout high school but kept that a secret from Sheila.

- Never stopped being insecure about his nose. Literally at one point started saving for a nose job till Stan talked him out of it.

- Drinks almond milk.

- Thinks thrifting is gross cause he’s a germaphobe. Washes his hands like 50 times a day.

- When I hear the song Basic Instinct it reminds me of Kyle.

- The Smiths > The Cure.

- Style: Stan fell first, Kyle fell harder (bro i love these dweebs lol).

- Was legit so in denial about being in love with Stan for the longest time.

- His Dad pushed him to study law but he ended up studying psychology to become a child psychologist because he saw the effects of unchecked mental health in children while he grew up.

- Got really drunk once and Kenny pierced his septum. He has it flipped up most of the time.

- Hates glasses so wears contacts.

- Such a fkn mummas boy lol it honestly was a problem at one point.

- Didn’t do his own laundry till he moved out. Did not know how to put sheets on a bed 👍

- Such a good relationship with Ike, he would die for his little brother.

- Did someone say abandonment issues!!!! Could not keep a partner to save his life during high school.

- Smoked weed with Kenny twice and then freaked out after he greened out.

- Got addicted to nicotine during college and used it as an outlet because he put so much pressure on himself to be perfect. Spoke to his doctor and he’s trying to quit.

- Defs listens to Phoebe Bridgers because he has a strange relationship with his dad.

- His dad pushed him to be perfect all the time until Kyle had a massive breakdown in junior year that burnt him out for a long time.

- A family man!!! Wants kids pretty early on into his life.

- A god at poker.

- Hates taking photos of himself.

- Still pretty insecure about his hair but Kenny and Stan helped himself to accept it and even start taking good care of it.

- Really struggled with anger issues.

- Stopped speaking to Cartman completely.

- Forest green is his favourite colour.

- Writes poems and makes people cry with how nice his birthday card messages are.

- First out his friends to get a license. His parents paid for his car.

- Such a damn backseat driver.

- Didn’t really work until he moved out.

- I think he’d help Heidi out at the community gardens.

- After Heidi finally ended things with Cartman, her and Kyle became really close friends.

- Had a friendly academic rivalry with Wendy through high school.

- Him and Wendy study together in college often.

- Has a record player.

- Grew closer to Craig’s gang in senior year of high school. Goes record shopping with Tolkien.

- Very accident prone.

- Has diabetes.

- Loves picnics and simple activities like stargazing.

- Smells like pine needles and the ocean.

- Actually a fantastic swimmer.

- Did drama in sophomore year.

- A massive library in his house. Had to instil a book ban on himself because he was spending all his money on it.

- Really nice eyelashes.

- Comes home to celebrate Hanukkah with his family every year.

- Did long distance with Stan during college. They almost broke up a few times but pulled through.

- Enjoys taking pictures of nature.

- Takes Ike to the movies very often.

- Has the nicest knitted sweaters.

- His guilty pleasure is Taylor Swift.

- HE IS SO MIRRORBALL CODED.

- When he’s in a good mood he loves baking and often bakes for his friends.

- Kenny, Kyle and Stan do day trips together super often. In my world these three never grew apart they are inseparable 🤞🤞

Kyle in a relationship

- An absolute gentleman. Refuses to let you get out of his car without him opening the door for you. Holds doors and pulls out seats. Always gives you his jacket.

- Was very insecure about his sexual inexperience. But y’all guided each other through it. I think there’s something so sweet and special about that.

- Touch tank by quinnie is all I have to say 😼.

- Loves kissing your neck and ears. He kisses your knuckles as well it’s very tender.

- Combusts when he sees you getting along with his family. Especially his Mum and Ike.

- Let’s you touch his hair, it relaxes him a lot.

- Opens up to you about his struggle with his Dad and nicotine. You are his biggest supporter through it all.

- Even though he hates photos, he’ll have a polaroid of y’all in his phone and wallet. Plus a photo booth strip in his car.

- Y’all will bake at midnight together.

- You go on fancy dinner dates together and rate the restaurants in the car together.

- Avid Letterboxed users lol! Give each other show and movie recommendations all the time.

- Kyle always had trouble sleeping but there was something very comforting about your presence so he’ll spend a lot of time at your dorm.

- Writes poems for you.

- Brings you flowers every time the old bouquet dies (ugh what a man).

- BUYS YOU LEGO FLOWERS!!!

- His love languages are gift giving and quality time.

- Keeps a list of all the dates you’ve been on.

- Will take such good photos of you fr! Your biggest hype man.

- I think his short temper would be a problem for you guys but he loves you so much he works on it so hard.

- Your praise means the absolute world to him.

- You guys always go to carnival together and share a caramel apple, it’s like tradition now.

- Couples costume for halloween always.

- Asks for your Dads/Mums/Guardians blessing before he proposes to you.

- Loves the smell of your perfume/cologne. Like it’s seriously intoxicating.

- Proposes to you with his Grandmas ring.

a/n: guys i love kyle so much i’m gonna make his mood board now <3

also if any of these are ooc in ur opinion it’s just for funsies and my opinion hehe

[tunaspatty]

Have you got some Takoyama headcanons? 🐙

yeah i have quite a little written down in my notes app,, ghhh ghfgbh,, not the best and im. a lil shy, also kinda worried that alot of these are just mad obvious but ummm yeah this is what ive got for now, sorry it took so long to get to you!

some Takoyama headcanons!! woop woop

* ambidextrous (aka doesn’t have a more dominant hand)

* is a pescatarian (maybe)

* uses his tentacles to open things like clams and jars :3

* uses his tentacles to hold things!!!!

* really likes to dance

* i imagine his house is connected to his salon(probably in an upstairs or downstairs area)

* definitely a bit wealthy, makes a hella good earning like wjat da hellllllll hes got a fancy ass sports car in the anime hes def not poor

* has two legs under his dress, suckers at the bottom of his feetsies, wears flip flops/sandals or whateva

* likes rain probably

* good swimmer(obviously)

* very much an early bird, sleeps early

* can take care of himself very well, doesn’t usually ask for help with things

* overworks himself a lot :( poor baby

* rarely swears in blue form but is a huge potty mouth in red form

* hates messes, likes keeping things as tidy as he can

* has a super bedazzled flip phone instead of a regular cellphone cuz he can just close his phone shut all sassy to hang up a call 🤭🤭🤭 ooouuuu

* red takoyama is really warm to the touch whilst blue takoyama is colder

* has to bundle up SO MUCH during winter times, especially in blue form since hes already cold blooded, i imagine he becomes really stiff

* has a waterbed fs (i also like imagining his mattress is circular instead of rectangular lol)

* sleeps with alotta pillows, how comfy

* mutters/mumbles/talks a bit in his sleep

* if he hugs you he can just sorta latch on and wrap around u, and its really hard to pry him off if he doesn’t wanna let u go

* likes being a bit fashionable whenever he can teeheee

* sings very loudly to himself a lot whenever he’s doing something alone (cooking, doing chores, etc.)

* i imagine his love languages are mostly spending quality time, acts of service and words of affirmation and he also likes physical touch alot alot he can be super affectionate and loving

* loves decorating the interior of his salon and home!!!!!!, def has a very beachy oceany sea vibes to his house

* just really friendly, he probs knows/is familiar with like,, everyone in parappatown,,, bro has got connections (at least as his blue self)

* probably sees yoko as a sister i think thats cute

* i like imagining him super strong,,, like alot of things he can lift almost effortlessly

* its very cool to imagine that he used to just straight up live in the ocean before moving to parappatown to pursue his hairdressing career

* super flexible has no bones!!!!!

* hates wearing no shoes/socks because his suckers stick to the floor

* smells like shampoo, hair products, some kinda sea scent,, maybe a lil like sea food potentially?🤔🤔🤔(it depends on the day i guess)

i did leave some out bc theyre my cringe selfshippy ones bu bu bu bu but please eat these up please enjoy pls pls plsss!!!!! *runs away sobbing* STOPYELLINGATME

(disclaimer some of these were inspired/given to me by pals and stuff:3 thank you all)

[kaziwi]

What One Piece characters smell like

Character(s): The Strawhats

Note: hiiii this is my first ever post on here lawlll

Luffy

(sweat, the ocean)

ok ok so we all can come to an agreement that Luffy smells like sweat right like this man is always running around there is no way he doesn't stink

but hear me out.....he also smells like the ocean

i mean he's always falling in the sea, so i'd assume the scent would rub off on him at some point

Zoro

(sweat, metal, blood)

sweatiest man alive.

there is literally no way this man doesn't have a sweat ridden stench like

he also def smells like metal since he's always training with weights and his swords

i also think since this man never showers that after a fight he will smell like blood for a few days

Nami

(tangerines)

yeah ok kinda obvious

i think she just naturally has that scent since she spends a lot of time near her tangerine trees, but i'd also like to think that all her soap and lotion and stuff is all tangerine scented

Usopp

(sweat, metal, dirt)

i think he wouldn't sweat AS BAD as luffy and zoro, but it's still there...

the metal smell would come from helping franky out or just working on some of his own inventions

he would also smell like dirt since he tends to his plants a lot (he might smell like fertilizer too -_-)

Sanji

(smoke, cologne)

another very very obvious one

i think he would always buy different colognes to try to cover up the smoke smell, but even if it works for awhile the smoke stench is still there

Chopper

(wet dog)

IM SORRY BUT HE DEF SMELLS LIKE A WET DOG

nami and robin would try to buy him new soap to help the smell but he ends up smelling like a wet dog by the end of the day

Robin

(lavender, vanilla, dust)

i know for a fact that robin smells amazing like

i think she naturally smells like lavender (don't question it), but sometimes will use different lotion or perfume to add a small vanilla scent to it

if she's exploring a ruin or reading old books, she might have a small dust smell to her

Franky

(cola, metal, garage)

with cola basically keeping him alive, there's no doubt that he wouldn't smell like it 24/7

he also smells like metal because....well.....ya know..

i also think he smells like a whole garage, like when you go to get your car repaired and you can smell inside the garage that's franky right there that's franky's scent

Brook

(tea)

ok this is kinda a reach cause i was gonna say he would smell like nothing since he's all bones, but i also think he would smell like tea since he drinks it all the time

Jimbei

(fish, sea-salt)

he would smell like fish

i also think he would smell like sea salt since he's always swimming and stuff

[blocksruinedme]

new fic: with the time they had (Limited Life, Jimmy POV, bad boys, flower husbands, keyword: memory)

It's rated T, it's Jimmy POV, it's bad boys and it's flower husbands (3L+E1) and it's complicated. everyone is having a bad time (except joel) and everyone is doing their best. angst with a hopeful ending, heed the tags.

Summary:

Everyone knows Jimmy had a bad memory. So why does he sneak out of bed every night, leaving Joel and Grian behind to pace the roof of the mansion, trying to remember something he can't name? With the weirdness of what happened earlier that day with Grian, Pearl, BigB and Martyn, Jimmy doesn't want to fall asleep and forget it all, like he does every night. Maybe tonight could be different. Scott's arrival throws everything off -- Jimmy knows he should push him away, he confuses Jimmy's thoughts with his smile and the smell of the sea -- but of course he'll let Scott stay, Scott who he's just met but feels like he's known forever.

It's 11.7k, y'all. I was supposed to write one fic a week for limited life, y'all. Episode 5 is looming and I just published the one for episode 2, y'all. It's 11.7k words, y'all. It's about memory and fighting to remember and not knowing what is controlling you and not being able to remember that you don't remember that you remember that you don't remember that you --- oh look, scott's here! he smells like the ocean, scott feels like home and the ocean smells like home but you can't remember why this feels off but everyone knows you have a bad memory.

(just wrote that directly into tumblr at 1:30am and i'm not rereading it)

The always amazing @that-tall-queer-bassist wrote a god damn poem about this fic. I do not know what this story would look like without their input and help and suggestions. The poem is total spoilers for the fic. If you're def not reading the fic, I think the poem would still be lovely!

I have made a worldcloud! Seeing the most common words might give you some of a vibe! (boring words have been removed) ....it's just full of jimmy words, well. it's fun.

[nirikeehan]

Heeeeeeey! Happy Friday! How about a prompt? For Blackwall/Thalia, Longing or Tangled from the 14 Days of DA Lovers list. Hope the muse talks to you on this one!

Happy Friday, Ocean! I def looked at this one and thought, "Why not both?"

For @dadrunkwriting and @14daysdalovers

WC: 983

---

Thalia had thought she would simply take a stroll outside of the Hinterlands camp in which they’d settled for the evening. She hadn’t counted on the foliage being so thick she would have to beat it back with both hands. As she fought her way through, a spindly branch snagged her hair where she had braided it back from her temple. Every time she attempted to free herself, her scalp seized with pain. Exasperation turned to fear in the deepening dusk.

“Help!” She sounded pitiful and embarrassed; she was both. 

“My lady?” 

Relief flooded her. “Warden Blackwall.” She had not strayed so far from camp that her companions could not hear. 

A lumbering silhouette crashed through the underbrush. “Are you hurt?” His voice, low and velvety despite its gruffness, made her pulse quicken. 

“No, no. It’s silly, really. It’s— my hair.”  

A large man formed out of the shadows. Thalia shot him a grateful grin. “I don’t know know how it happened, but it’s just really stuck.” She pointed to her head.

“Hold still.” Blackwall rose to his full height, resting one hand on her shoulder.  “Let me see.” 

Thalia’s heart beat faster. She stood eye level with his shoulder; his sleeve had been stitched in place with an inexpert hand. Blackwall possessed the look of a man who had been on the road for many moons. This made sense, though she wondered if the Grey Wardens hurt for coin so badly that they couldn’t afford their recruiter a new doublet. 

She swallowed, the sound of his measured breath filling her ears. “Is it terrible?”

“Not so much. Though it’ll be tricky to get you out, unless someone’s brought a pair of scissors.”

“I couldn’t,” Thalia cried, horrified. “Highborn girls aren’t supposed to cut their hair. Not in Ostwick, anyway. I know we’re not in Ostwick anymore, but I—”

“It’s all right, my lady.” Blackwall’s hand moved to her chin, steadying her. “I rather like your hair the way it is, anyway.” 

A thrill shot down her spine. Thalia stared up at him, shocked by the familiarity of his gesture. His face betrayed nothing, though he dropped his hand and slid behind her. “I think I can get it out on my own.”

“Good. That’s good.” Thalia felt the quake in her voice, but hoped he couldn’t hear it.

“I’ll need to remove my gloves to work properly. Is that all right?”

Now he asks for permission to touch me? Thalia swallowed. Maybe he realized his mistake after all. Not that she minded.

She felt his breath stirring the wisps of hair at the nape of her neck. She suppressed a shiver. “Of course.” Thalia tried to make her voice sound older, more authoritative. Like a woman used to the attention of a man. She squared her shoulders.

She listened to the rustle of fabric, and then his fingers were in her hair. Thalia inhaled sharply. The warmth of his fingers bled into her scalp, and his light touch sent tingles through her skull. 

“If I’m hurting you, just say so.” 

“Okay.” She hated her own voice, soft and meek, like a child. 

How would he ever think of her as an equal, if she continued to get into trivial scrapes like this one? Even her protest about her hair — how frivolous could she be? She imagined Blackwall among his fellow Wardens, in the company of fierce warrior women who weren’t vain about the length of their hair. She chewed her lip, wondering what Blackwall’s life had been like before meeting her. 

His fingers threaded the strands of her hair, picking at a tangle she could feel at the top of her head. She felt no pain, just tension as he worked. He smelled of the smoke from tonight’s cookfire, a musky undertone she couldn’t place. Was that just what men smelled like? She’d never really been close enough to one to tell. 

“How’s it going?” she asked nervously. 

Blackwall grunted. “Not as well as I’d hoped. Don’t move.” 

He put his hands on her shoulders and moved in front of her. “I might have to do something drastic.”

“O-oh?”

“Do you trust me?” His eyes met hers. Under his thick brows, they bore into hers. They reminded her of the sea by the Ostwick Circle Tower when it threatened to storm: a deep, impenetrable grey.

Thalia stared up at him, swallowing hard. “Of course, Warden Blackwall.” 

He leaned over her, holding her back steady with one hand. With the other, he seized the branch above her head and twisted violently. With a sickening crack, the branch snapped in twain. Thalia was able to stand upright, mobility returned. “That was— incredible.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” It took another minute for him to untangle her from the now disembodied branch, but at last, she was free. Blackwall tossed the branch to the ground. It surprised her how sizable it was — one she might have dared to put her weight on, if she’d been climbing the tree. 

“Your strength is commendable, ser.” Thalia ducked her head, blushing. 

Blackwall shrugged. “Everyone’s good at something, I expect.” 

She pressed her fingers into her hair, feeling the braid that had been entrapped pulled loose and unsightly. She had an urge to let her hair down and redo each plait — but that would be scandalous to do in front of a man like the warden. She pulled the braid loose and tucked it behind her ear. 

Blackwall watched with intense interest. Thalia swallowed, all too aware they were alone together in the darkening wilderness. “I would be grateful if you escorted me back to camp now.” 

“As you wish, my lady.” He gave her a curt bow. She liked that about him; he always remembered his courtesies to a noblewoman. “This way.”

She followed him back to camp. She suspected she would follow him almost anywhere, given the chance. 

[rosenallies]

Head canons for Rosé and Denali’s relationship to their families in bimbo au? Rosé’s relationship with his dad has come up a few times and it seems like he puts a lot of pressure on him 🥺 I’m also curious about Nali’s family situation.

-Rosé’s family dynamics are def better than Denali’s in this au, his dad does put a lot of pressure on him to do well in the business world but they’re not not close if that makes sense? He’s a good father but as a boss he makes Rosie want to jump into the ocean 😭 and Rosie loves his mom, he’s kind of a momma’s boy😌 bc mommy’s boys are always the sweetest I think

-Denali’s family are weird, they don’t fully accept him. Him coming out as gay was hard and eventually they got over it but still make comments about the way he dresses and his mannerisms being too feminine all the time. They’re never really invested in who he is as a person and seem to only focus on what they deem as “negative” traits about him. When he marries Rosie tho they def pretend to come around for the money but Nali smells the phoniness from a mile away and doesn’t cut them off completely but goes mostly no contact at that point🤷🏻‍♀️ bc if they’re not gonna accept him when he’s poor, they don’t get to pretend to accept him when he marries into money

[callsignspark]

he truly is the sweetest, most considerate non-boyfriend-boyfriend ever! it was so fun to write their relationship and show how it's progressing even though they're literally an ocean apart! I can't wait to show a little snippet of their FaceTime call, and when we get to learn what she sent in Bradley's package!

edit from 10/13: I'm so sorry, I forgot to hit post on this omg

oh this hurts so bad!!! i can actually visualize this so clearly? like the look on both of their faces, especially their eyes? personification of 🥺 the hug def lasted a longer time than anyone else’s AND you know bradley definitely smelled her hair/nuzzled her? i can’t wait till they see each other on facetime, i know they’re gonna have the biggest smiles on their faces - they cuddled together so close!! (he pressed his nose directly into her hair, trying to memorize her perfume) everyone was honestly surprised they didn't kiss (especially those few people that actually know they kissed already!) there was a "just do it already!" vibe from the group lmao

HAHAHAHAHA DRAG HER ASS FLORA!! like come on mary we all know! - Flora "who are you trying to fool" Phillips, everyone! they're not close friends (yet) but after hearing Nat and Jake talk about them, even she's like, girl just fuck him already.

i love that he got her a new sweater - i know he sprung for the cashmere! and having it smell like him is such a sweet gesture too! - he did! he got a nice quality sweater and he put so much thought into it!

oh sweet girl 🥺 i totally see both sides of this (not that their are sides!), but like yes totally makes sense that mav would be bradley’s primary contact, like they just kissed for the first time haha, but also!? mary you’re def on the list and i like to think she’s been on the list for awhile - she's not on the official list (see first kiss just happened) but Mav knows that she would be his second call if something were to happen! he would make sure she knew from him, and not from gossip or rumors. Mav is a good uncle 🥺

COME ON FLORA!!!! like i get it, you’ve got a lot of shit going on! but i’m just dying about him knowing exactly which pie she wanted and everything!! - he couldn't be there to make the pie for her in the competition he proposed in December so he did the next best thing! he knows apple was her favorite and they both love Sift Bakery - it was a no-brainer! (Flora felt bad, but after she and Mary talk post-FT call she knows she's not in trouble!)

IT IS!! it’s really stinkin sweet indeed!! and i like that he spent so much time picking everything? like i’m so ready for the bit about the dried flowers later - he's such a sweetheart!!! he had an idea of what he wanted and Flora helped him execute it so well!! ("You know if you want something big like this, it's going to be like $80, right?" / *slaps down credit card* "Okay. You take American Express?") and the dried flowers??? that will be a moment. that will be The Moment™

mary you could email him every hour, every minute and it still wouldn’t be too much - exactly!! he gave her his email address for a reason! she sends something about once a day (sometimes 2-3 times depending on what's happening) and when they leave comms blackout his heart flutters at how many messages she's sent! (some of my favorite email lines from the entire deployment: I miss you [2:54 AM], Slider showed me more baby photos - you're so cute [5:18 PM], you're the sweetest man in the world [three images attached, 7:25 PM], I got Panera for lunch, I hope you're having a good day [12:13 PM], three days until you're home!! I miss you, Bradley. all my love - Mary [8:47 AM])

the happiness radiating off them??? that she can’t believe bradley wants her!?! and then the card making everything okay?? i’m so jealous of her honestly - she really lucked out with a wonderful man. bitch. I wish I could draw so I could show just how cute the photo is!!!!

I haven’t left yet but I already miss you. - what if i killed myself? like this is absolutely the softest thing? it reminds me of a line from a movie or tv show or book that’s escaping me at the moment! and like bradley has never had someone to miss like this before?? - this made me CACKLE. he took inspiration from all the romcoms his mom used to make him watch, and boy did he deliver. softest man in the world!!

Love, Bradley - i’m SCREAMING!?!! he is the sweetest boy in the entire world!! i can’t wait till they talk on facetime (also i need them to say it for the first time in person 🤭) - HE'S SO SWEET!! the facetime is going to be so cute!!! (them saying love you out loud to each other for the first time???? you already know how it happens but ohhh boy is it a doozy!!!)

Mar[r]y Me - part 8.5

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, discussions of body image, conversations on what it’s like to be a fat woman trying to date in today’s society, extreme fluff, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 2.3k

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note: happy Friday! this is a short but sweet one! see here for my soft-tober announcement and here for a quick update on what's happening in the month of October! have a great weekend!

part 8.5 - McDonald's apple pie

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“I’d never dream of it!”

Mary snuggles deeper into the couch as Pierce Brosnan - her favorite James Bond - races through the streets of Ho Chi Minh City on a motorcycle with Michelle Yeoh handcuffed to his wrist. Her chest hurts; tight from an overwhelming urge to cry and a tiredness she can’t quite shake no matter how much she’s been sleeping lately.

The day had been spent with Danielle and the kids, and it had been fun. They had gone to the beach and gotten Thai food for dinner, the adults devouring pad thai while Annabeth watched Frozen again. It was nice; she loved her family, but she missed Bradley.

More than she thought she would.

They didn’t get a chance to properly say goodbye. He had received a hug and the same “be safe, see you in two months” as everyone else. There wasn’t a spare second to sneak away and kiss him goodbye; there was always someone near them the entire time.

All she could do was slip a good luck note into the palm of his hand and hug him for an extra second longer than anyone else. It was hardly anything, but he still gave her a big smile and a sneaky forehead kiss, whispering that his peanut butter bites were safely stored at the bottom of his pack.

For the millionth time since she sat with Mav in her office and they watched the carrier steam away, Mary wonders where Bradley is. Thanks to her security clearance, she knows he's floating somewhere in the Pacific, but nothing more.

Maybe he’ll come back with an even deeper tan.

Somehow, Bradley is always sort of tan, even in January. Yes, they live in California, where it’s beach weather year-round, but it’s like he was born with a built-in base layer of golden skin.

Bond is just about to magically escape from another precarious situation he’s gotten himself into when the doorbell rings. Mary peeks over the top of the couch, trying to figure out who could be at her front door. Her family is in New York, Slider went back to Pensacola last week, and the majority of people she knows in California are also in the middle of the ocean with Bradley.

The bell rings again, whoever it is knocking this time. She sighs - they’re not going away - and frees herself from her perfectly crafted blanket burrito, a poor substitution for the pair of strong arms she’s missing.

Carefully peeking through the side window, she’s surprised to find Flora standing there and quickly opens the door, a blur of red and pink taking over her vision.

“Happy birthday!” Flora yells, shoving an enormous floral arrangement in her face.

“Than- thank you?”

Mary tentatively grabs the vase, taken off guard, as Flora walks in and slips her clogs off. Dropping her huge L.L. Bean tote bag on the dining room table, Flora laughs at how Mary is frozen at the front door, flowers hiding her torso but not her confused face.

“Here, give me those, and you open this.” Flora pulls a box out of her Mary Poppins-sized bag and takes the vase back. She carefully places the arrangement on the island, fiddling with the stems so they look perfect.

“What is happening?”

“Well, your boyfriend came into my shop about three weeks ago and asked me if I would do him a favor. He was so sweet and pathetic; I couldn’t help but say yes.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Funny.” Flora hums, eyebrow arching in disbelief. “I didn’t say a name, but you knew who I was talking about.”

Mary flushes, the tips of her ears on fire as she tries to stutter out an excuse.

“It’s okay, Mary.” Flora takes pity on her. “I know it’s complicated, but let’s face it, that man would do anything for you. Which is why I’m here, on a Sunday night, with gifts.”

“Gifts?” Mary echoes. “Plural?”

“Mmhm. First up, a floral arrangement full of warm tones because “red is her favorite color, but all red would probably be overbearing” - which is a direct quote.”

“They’re beautiful, Flora.”

“He did a good job, and he deserves a reward for understanding that flowers are expensive and you can’t cheap out if you want a nice, big bouquet. Next is the box.” She slides the brown box across the table, fluffing the ribbon curls on top. “I have no idea what’s in that one.”

Mary carefully opens the ribbons tied around the box, her throat tightening when she takes the lid off. At the top is a notecard with Bradley’s handwriting.

She pulls the sweater out of the box, and her eyes start to water as she holds it up for Flora to see. It’s a light yellow, almost the same shade as the stick of butter softening on her counter, practically identical to the one sitting in her closet, a red stain still covering the front. The material is so soft she can’t help but press her face into it, tears escaping as Bradley’s cologne washes over her.

Fuck. I miss him so much.

This was anticipated; she knows how sad Dani can get during Reuben’s deployments. Knows how sad she would get when her best friend was gone for months. It’s only been two weeks, but it’s the longest they’ve gone without seeing each other. Even during the rough patch in January, they still got glimpses of each other at work. The worst part is not knowing how he’s doing. If he’s okay. She assumes he is; Mav hadn’t mentioned anything, and she’s pretty sure he would tell her.

It would be the only way she would find out. Mary isn’t naïve enough to believe that she would be a first-tier point of contact if he got hurt. They haven’t even gone on a date yet, and the only time they kissed was that day in her office.

She’s pulled out of the impending spiral by a gentle hand rubbing her shoulders, which she didn’t realize were shaking. She lets herself be comforted by Flora, the older woman pulling her into a hug, uncaring about the tears staining her shirt.

“Sorry.” Mary sniffles, pulling back after a minute to wipe her eyes. “I just really miss him, more than I thought I would.”

“It’s okay, I get it.”

“That’s right. I forgot about Jake.”

She realizes she said something wrong by the way Flora’s hand goes stiff on her back.

“Jake and I are not together.”

“Oh. He just- when we were talking, he kinda implied that the two of you were sort of seeing each other.”

“We’ve fucked a few times, we're not together.”

Mary blinks at her. Jake had never said anything about sex; he was lamenting that Flora didn’t want to see a movie he was excited about. Sad that the florist wouldn’t join him.

“Jake, I mean, I don’t know Flora very well, but I gotta say she doesn’t really seem like a zombie apocalypse kinda girl.” Mary gently soothed, trying to give equal attention to her email inbox and the mopey Texan. “Why don’t you find a movie you’ll both like?”

“I tried! She doesn’t want to go to the movies at all. I know she’s busy - like she runs a whole ass business all by herself - but it’s like she doesn’t even care that we’re gonna be gone for two months!”

“Did you tell her that you want to spend time together before you leave?”

“No. We’re just- that’s not-” Jake sighs, cut off by Mary’s phone.

They had never finished their conversation; Jake had a hop and Mary a meeting, and a few days later, he was shipping out alongside Bradley.

“Okay. I’m sorry, he didn’t mention that, so I must have misunderstood.”

“You probably didn’t.” Flora rolls her eyes. “Jake likes to talk like we’re together, but I’ve told him several times a relationship is not what I’m looking for from him.”

“Can I ask why?” She quickly backtracks when the other woman’s face scrunches up. “Oh my god, you absolutely don’t have to say anything. I wasn’t trying to push.”

“No, you’re fine. Jake is a great guy. He’s smart and funny and handsome, but we want different things in life. Things that can’t be compromised on and that I won’t ever change my mind about. So there’s really no reason for us to try anything serious. I told him that before they deployed, but I’m officially breaking it off when they’re back because I’m not sure he got the hint.”

“That makes sense; that’s probably the best way to go about it.” She nods, impressed by how strong Flora is in her conviction and a bit sad at the same time. Those two would be great.

“Sucks, though. He’s incredible in bed.”

Mary lets out a bark of laughter at the complete 180 in conversation. “That surprises me and doesn’t surprise me all at the same time.”

“It’s that atrocious arrogance of his, isn’t it?”

“Yes! An ego like that means a man is either totally overcompensating, or he knows he’s good, and he’s got the moves to prove it.”

“Oh, he’s got the moves. Believe me.” They laugh at the eyebrow wiggle that accompanies Flora’s words.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta know. That ridiculous Texas accent he pulls out when he’s trying to charm someone-”

“-does he use it in bed? More frequently than you would imagine.”

“Okay… but, like, does it do it for you?”

“I plead the Fifth,” Flora says as she furiously nods.

“Stop! Wait! And the cowboy hat?”

She laughs harder, tears in her eyes as she gasps, “Both of us!”

“You’ve both worn it?!”

Flora’s confirmation makes them both howl with laughter, Mary bending over and holding onto the table for support. It takes a few minutes for them to calm down, wiping tears away as they catch their breath.

“Well, that’s got to be the least shocking thing I’ve learned about Jake.”

It makes them both start giggling again; the blonde man’s affinity for his home state is well-known, frequently coming up in conversation.

“I should get going. I have to be up early to set up for a funeral. But I have one more thing for you, well, two things.” Flora dips back into her bag, pulling out a brown paper bag and a square envelope. “From Bradley.”

“McDonald’s?”

“Well, he requested I get you an apple pie - it had to be an apple pie - from Sift, but by the time I got there this afternoon, all their pies were gone. So I improvised, and thankfully, Mickey D’s had just done a fresh batch.”

“Apple pie is my favorite.” Mary quietly says, peeking into the bag and seeing five pie boxes. “Thank you for doing this, Flora.”

“It’s no problem. Bradley was so cute when he came in; I couldn’t help but agree. It’s sweet how much he cares about you.”

“I’m starting to understand how much he really does.” A content feeling settles in her chest, warming her up from the cold sadness that was taking over earlier.

Only 60 more days until Bradley is home.

“You’ll probably want to warm those up before you eat them,” Flora says, slipping her shoes back on, getting ready to leave.

“Hey, we're having a girls' night and putting together care packages for the Daggers next week. You should come, you can help with Nat’s box. Plus, it’s great to have extra hands to help put them together.”

“That sounds fun; I’d love to join you guys.” She opens the door and hesitates for a second, turning back to Mary. “No one knows about me and Jake hooking up. I didn’t tell Nat because she wouldn’t understand, and I don’t think he’s told anyone either. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“No problem. I’m always here to talk if you want some fairly neutral input.”

“Fairly neutral?”

She shrugs. “I know he can be an idiot, but Jake is a good guy, and he’s also my friend, so I can’t be completely unbiased about him. Fairly neutral is the best I can offer.”

“Fair enough.” Flora smiles at her, yelling back as she walks down the steps. “We should grab dinner sometime! Have a good night!”

“Night!” Mary waves, happier than she’s been since the beginning of the month.

She locks the door after making sure Flora gets into her car safely, promising herself that she’ll reach out to friends more. No more moping around, being sad that Bradley is gone.

I’ve got to learn how to deal with this if we’re going to date. It’s not like he’s going to leave the Navy; he’s going to be gone.

Snapping photos of her presents, she starts mentally composing the thank you email she’s going to send to Bradley. The Lincoln is on a communications blackout for the first three weeks of the cruise, but she’s been sending him little updates. Letting him know when she’s thinking of him, hoping she isn’t filling up his inbox too much.

She plops back into her favorite corner of the couch, stretching out on the chaise that makes her get a little hot under the collar every time she sits on it.

“Let’s read this card.” She mumbles to herself around a bite of pie as Bond saves the world and gets the girl.

A photo flutters out of the envelope as she pulls the card out, and she loses her breath when she flips it over. It’s the two of them on Valentine’s Day. When she made him pancakes, the photo he said he was going to tape up in his bunk.

A promise he followed through on, his last text showing off his rack. Corners of the blue blanket neatly tucked in, and the photo of the two of them taped on the wall right next to his pillow. Mary looks at the photo he printed for her, smiling at the happiness radiating from both of them. The corners of their eyes crinkled, and her dimple popping out; she still can’t quite believe that Bradley Bradshaw wants her, of all people.

Then she reads the card, and her insecurities quiet down for the night.

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a beautiful ring pt 2 (namor x siren!reader)

excerpt: 500 year old god and a young, enchanting mermaid who acts like an absolute gremlin- she refuses to act any different in front of the man who could slice her in half. and he’s absolutely enamored by it.

welcome to part two :) thank yew for all of the support i’ve gotten from you guys so far. def slowly but surely buildin up here. part three is in da works as we speak, praying for some smoochy time cuz smut is my fav thing to write. 

here we goooooo 

You were raised to love the sea, but your home was the surface. 

And by the gods did you need a shower. 

Your back was sore, your hair stiff from the sea salt, and the slowly dying adrenaline rush was leaving your eyes droopy and body hunched over. Flying back to Chicago in the dead of night after returning from East Hampton’s beach killed you, your victory of stealing from a god seems meaningless when there is no more energy left to boost your own ego. 

You found yourself surprised when you made it to your condo's doorsteps in downtown Chicago safely, in awe that you were just that good. Winding the prize out of your pocket, you gingerly look it over before laying it on your vanity desk, giving yourself a once over in the mirror after you beelined towards your room.

The east coast truly brought out the freckles under your eyes. You glowed, blowing yourself a kiss before trudging into the bathroom. Inhaling the crushed eucalyptus leaves affixed by twine atop of your shower head, you turn the knob as hot as you can stand, beginning to strip from the salty slip dress and undergarments. 

A melody begins to hum from your lips, effortlessly wrapping yourself in a protective transfixion as you step into the shower. A groan mixing in with the angelic sound emits from you while the steaming water droplets pelt your back. You lean your head back, running your now goldless, godless fingers through your hair, gingerly tending to your scalp with lavender shampoo and tea tree oil. 

You don’t quite know what you are, but you are too unique, too important, to not nourish.

Twirling your conditioner-soaked hair into a clip, you lather yourself with similarly smelling soap that reminds you of the tide pool you once bathed in as a girl, singing hymns that reminded you of the ocean floor you visited today. Twisting and swaying your hips to the song, you let the water turn ice cold once you cleaned yourself sparkling, your hair soft and relaxed, ready to be brushed and braided for the night. The frozen pellets encourage your fears, your inhibitions, the fear that you might have not been forgotten, swirl down the drain, the song coming to an end as you turn the dial off. 

Lavender lotion, face oil, floral spaghetti strap and matching undies, french braids with rosemary elixir being soaked by your scalp- the perfect night. 

Pizza would make it better, though. 

You plop yourself on the bed, back on the mattress, legs raised and pointed towards the air as you dig for your phone to dial whichever place had stuffed crust and pineapple. 

You are not alone, the moon murmurs to you, allowing a black sludge of dread to pool within you. Your body jerks up, and you cross your arms over your chest. Eyebrows furrowing and lips jutted, you scan your room. 

My kitchen, my kitchen. 

Who is in my kitchen? 

If another absolutely rancid, stupid boy who couldn’t take the hint and throw away your condo key (you’d never admit that was your fault), you were drowning them. Even if you had to hull their unconscious bodies to Chicago’s murky waters to do so. Even if that’s never happened before. 

That’s never happened before. 

With a paling face, you slide off the bed and storm into the kitchen. Sometimes, you prayed that the moon would foretell you important information before such an event occurred. 

“Listen, Chad, or Jason, or Elijah, who-fucking-ever, if someone ghosts you and doesn’t call you back that doesn’t give you authority to come into their home even if you have a key. I’m going to count to ten before I lay you flat on that countertop and remove your most important ligaments from your body because I am just so fucking tired- oh..” 

Your fears did not travel too far down the drain while you showered. Your protection hum was not enough. In fact, the unease of being out of control slithered back up and wrapped itself like a serpent around your neck in a chokehold, for the moon did not whisper to you soon enough that he had followed you back home. 

Your protection song was not enough. Usually, something so simple would cause an intruder to burst into a billion water droplets. Usually, you would have just come into the kitchen to discover a puddle and smile to yourself knowing that an idiot got what was coming to them. You did not need the moon to warn you of robbers, of shallow one night stands who can’t get enough of your hypnotic stares, of anyone coming into your home without permission. 

And yet, this god stands in your kitchen, seemingly perplexed by your adornment of antique plates and cups poorly stacked in the open cabinets, not one of them the same. His fingers trace along adjacent jars, reading to himself each herb and spice labeled and put away on the wood shelf. You mirror his annoyed expression as his eyes wander near the sink, finding a ripped open, half eaten, chocolate bar. 

“I wasn’t expecting company,” you murmur, taking soft steps towards the barrier of your kitchen. You find your fingers smoothing down the base of your floral tank top, giving an angsty stare towards the pair of matching panties acting as a second skin. 

Well, at least it didn’t look like you were lying. 

He did not change, his gold armor tightly affixed to his shoulders, spear tightly bound in his hands. The large, gold-plated necklace and larger than life pearls, other finely varnished necklaces stack upon one another and his curly, damp, yet neatly toppled hair with those earrings had your cheeks heating. 

Very rarely does one of your stature, your nature, become seduced themselves. 

Or so the moon tells you. 

“Do those earrings hurt from wearing them all day, or does swimming in the water help with the weight distribution?” You blurt, cheeks red, back straight. 

The god simply turns, giving you a slow once over. Quiet rage, curiosity swims in his eyes, a deadly demeanor flowing from him to you, you to him. 

Exposing pajamas and random questions being unanswered won’t stop you from making his atoms implode with a whisper, for disrespect is a sour taste on your tongue. 

Could you even kill him? Leave a scratch on his cheek? 

Internally, you scoff. You won’t kill a god. You might steal from one, but it would be purely selfish of you to kill this man. The moon has whispered secrets of an underground world since you were a child wishing to sleep sooner, and it would be against your very nature to slaughter the man who leads a dream world. 

So you continue on, filling in the bloodless silence as he turns to your dining table, “I like how you wear your oceanic garb on the surface. I think it’s neat.” 

Is he going to take the ring back? Kill you? I mean, if you were him, you’d kill you if caught. Maybe you should go get it. 

“I will not conform myself to the surface when I step foot onto this land.” The silky, calculated, deliberate cool tone reverberates around your home, the tranquil atmosphere melding into an eerie fog. 

You pucker your lips, nodding. 

The moon must be humored by your calmness before the very man whose spear could impale you before you could send another twinkle. Or horrified. Her daughter lackadaisical, wearing floral panties and a small, matching top in front of the serpent god.  

He stares at you for a second longer, his eyes melting any confidence, any tranquility left in your body. A small girl with a knack for pretty things quivers before the god. 

“I have heard rumors of the ones who are creatures of the sea. The creatures that can return to the surface world if they wish, full-bodied at their will. The creatures who can manipulate, who could conquer the world at their whim-”

“The moon does not wish me to conquer,” you bite, chin upturning. You turn, beginning to move towards your room. If you’re going to be interrogated, it better be with pizza. 

A gasp pelts from you as his spear shoots out in front of you in a swift, presiding motion. The sharp metal kisses your cheek, the flesh of it nearly missing being sheered off. 

Whiplash consumes you as you turn towards the god, face shot. 

You guess it’s not the right time for pizza. 

“The moon?” He quizzes, eyes narrowing, utterly fixated upon you. He observes as your chest heaves, your wide eyes staring down his spear, watching as you fight between looking at his face and that skillfully crafted weapon. There hasn’t been this powerful of a man so close to you before. 

You gulp, nodding, wishing you could straighten your back, turn up your chin, more,“Yes, the moon.” 

The spear slaps back to his side, and he moves away from you, continuing to contemplate your home. Your living room, your dining table, the half eaten dark chocolate bar sitting on the counter from the other night. Flowery, ethereal, a little messy. You strived to bring as much essence with you to the surface world as you could, finding incandescence in each piece you brought back to your condo. Stolen or not is long forgotten by now, all you know is that this is your home. 

A god is looking around your home. Cheeks heated, you pray to the Mother to take the embarrassment and hope he is even the slightest bit impressed. 

He strides towards the velvet couch, and you cringe as he sits. It’s unearthly to witness a sea god attempting to relax into your couch. It seems he feels the same way, unable to sit in an indestructible way, so he settles for resting his elbows on his knees, gazing up at you. 

“Do you have velvet couches at home?”

It is not a request when he states, “tell me about your moon.’

“It is not my moon,” you begin, tiptoeing towards the adjacent couch. You grab a small throw pillow, shielding your peaking, freckled stomach as you sit down. Any wrong moves, any innuendos you’d fight him in your apartment would mean slaughter. The moon warns you of this as you cross your legs and force yourself to face the god. “She is simply the moon. She holds the energy to the waters, and water is within us all- no matter the level. I serve her and her me.”

His gaze gives away he is not satisfied with this information, and you shrug your shoulders. There is little information you wish to give away tonight, your growling stomach and fluttering eyes urging you to find a way to end this conversation and get this man on his way. 

“What more is there to know?” What a teasing answer, and his brows rise in the slightest. You’re both struggling to keep your composure, this god used to his world bending to his will and your sleepy, angry hunger fueling whatever delinquency was about to arise. 

“How do you serve her?” You nearly groan at that demanding tone, it’s what- midnight? There’s no food, emphasis on no food, in your stomach and you wish to curl under your freshly washed winter duvet to borrow away until the upcoming afternoon instead of being questioned right now. 

“I am tired,” you feebly admit, voice soft like silk and edged glass. A fine balance for a soon-to-be tantruming moon child. You prayed to her to not let him see you act a fool after stealing his ring. 

A fine price to pay for not being powerful enough. “Can we continue this conversation another time? You know where I live. I just want some pizza- what? Pizza is good.” 

You nearly scoff at his grimacing complexion. Slowly deteriorating, your once gentle, feline gaze began to melt into a matching stare as he replied. 

“The surface world food is vile.”

“Have you ever had stuffed crust pizza?” Gods, arguing was going to get you nowhere. What can you do to get this god to leave? 

He is not leaving, child. 

“How do you serve the moon?” He repeats, straightening his back. 

He just won’t quit. You ponder how it turns out for someone to push his button; a fire ignites in your stomach at the thought. 

“I’m in my undies right now, I’m hungry, I am exhausted, and I don’t even know who you are. Come back in the morning once I’ve eaten my vile food,” you spit, “and I’ll think about telling you all my cute little secrets.” 

Incredulously, his mouth gapes open in the slightest before standing up, bolting to tower over you faster than you can recalibrate yourself. Before your gaze can linger on his thighs for more than a moment's notice, you find a tight grip on your jaw, cheeks squishing and your lips pursed in the slightest. Dread consumes you, and you feel the moon shake her head. 

“You dare,” he begins, staring down at you as if you were less than the scum under his feet, “speak to me like this as if you did not steal what does not belong to you in the first place- siren.” You return the fever, glaring back at him, clenching the chair’s cushioning and pushing yourself to meet his face with yours. 

“It was pretty,” you seethe, “and I am not a siren.”

He tuts, clenching your jaw harder between his thumb and forefinger, twisting your neck as though you were the ring you plucked from him in the ocean, “Little surface girls taking things that do not belong to them, claiming they belong to the moon.” 

Mother forgive me, you silently beg, the rage allowing one last particle of energy to surface. You let yourself blow out a soft sigh that you hope, you pray, feels like peppering kisses all over his face and neck. 

Peppering kisses turn into boiling beads of sweat pilling along his temples in mere seconds, your silent will urging his blood to cook beneath you. Boiling blood and a dark, unearthed lust surfacing in the form of a longing gaze and heated skin. His grip molding soft, lips parting. 

“Return tomorrow, and I will answer your questions,” whatever sultry notes left in your voice bellow in his stomach, your eyes hooded, skin glowing as you summon the moonlight to cast against your goose bumped skin. 

Bend to me by the order of the moon, bend to me and go home. 

He longingly looks over your moon-kissed cheeks between his hand, down to your collar bones, the dip of your chest begging to pour out of your small tank top, tracing your navel with his eyes and they linger on the embroidered panties, your throw pillow long gone on the floor once you sat up fully to fight for yourself- for your pizza- tonight. 

But because the way he was returning your devilish look, you might not be hungry for just pizza. 

Bend to my will, sweet king. Let me continue my night, you may question me in the morning. 

And then he has the audacity to reel back and laugh, letting you jerk away at the expense of your own mortification. 

Heaven forbid, it didn’t work. 

Dark red embellishes your cheeks, your nose, your neck and chest. Blotchy. 

Your cooler hands find your cheeks, urging them to quiet, and you curl back into your chair. Looking down at your newly polished toes and back up towards him with pure fury, you couldn’t feel more humiliated. 

The moon did not let you win. 

There is no victory, no satisfaction when you are angry, she murmurs, synchronizing the gods movements as he lifts your chin again. It is gentle, testing. You are met with a curious, cautious, nevertheless impenetrable stare. His eyes travel between your cheeks, watering eyes, your pink, pouty lips. 

“I will return in the morning, when the sun rises.” He promises with a nod, “hopefully you will be as enchanting as you are described in the books with a full stomach and long nights rest.” There is a soft laugh, the god not yet letting go of your face, observing the pink splotches of shame along your neck. “I did not think the definition of moon children would be so literal.” 

You could not manipulate this man, and he is calling you a child. 

You are too angry, too tired, too defeated to rebuttal that you are the goddess, the justice, the love and power of the moon. 

He did not ask for his ring back when he let go of your face, gathered his spear, and took flight from your open balcony window, giving you another short, determined once over. 

A loud groan escapes you as the transparent, pink-hued curtains sway with the wind. 

You want to chuck that ring out of that very window, you decide. 

Before you went to bed, you ate a whole box of stuffed crust pizza.

.

.

.

He kept his promise. 

After failing to have a good night’s rest, tossing and turning, waking with cold sweats and dreams of cascading down a rabbit hole, you understand why your sleep was disrupted in the early morning.

There he sat, across from your bed in another lounge chair seemingly miniature while he shuffles about. He twirls one of your small shell in his hand, and it seems as though he took a good chunk of time out of his night to look through nearly all of your trinkets. 

You sigh and roll over in your bed away from the man in the chair, pulling the duvet over your head. A groan reverberates through the sheets when you shove your face into the surface of the mattress. 

This is not how you imagined your morning after East Hampton. You allow yourself to daydream for a moment, pretending you wake in the sun alone, stretch, cum with one of your previous vibrators, and make an omelet with the mushrooms you got from the market just the other day. Cheese and mushrooms and eggs, maybe a coffee, maybe a chai. 

With a final groan to ground you, you flip the covers and force yourself to sit up. Your braids are tightly wound, the natural lighting from the window causing your hair to glow and your freckles to surface and sparkle. From your tank top, a large tshirt covers you, fabric folding over your stomach and thighs, barely covering your underwear. 

Should you say hi? Should you act like he’s not there and get on with your morning routine? 

You decide the latter, swinging your legs to hang off the of the bed and scoot for your feet to touch the floor. Your arms raise, and you stretch, looking towards the sky as you silently thank the moon for allowing you to see another beautiful morning, letting the gratitude bathe you. 

He simply stares. 

You let him as you wander into the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. 

There is no way you’ll be less than presentable in front of a god, you whisper to the moon as your examine your small closet. Your eyebrows furrow- you cannot remember a time you contemplated looking presentable for someone else. 

You can hear the moon giggle as you contemplate wearing one of your prettiest dresses that you specifically use for full moon nights. Or the new moon? What kind of energy are you bringing into this conversation? 

Energy, your lips quirk. May he be enamored, for it is not about the dress but jewelry that adorns you. 

You place yourself in lacy garments, a shimmer of silver and a soft green, puffy-sleeved, translucent blouse and lightly washed, high-waisted jeans. Matching, lacy socks and a silver necklace with a curled shell. 

Glamoured rings slide themselves onto your fingers, and you inspect the finery wrapped around your flesh with a grin. Silver and gold bands with crystals wired around them and dipped into moon water and rose oil bound to convey any man to serve you. Hopefully a god, too. 

Gold glitter smears across your eyelid, your cheekbones and a tap on your nose. Clear mascara and brow gel brushes its way on as you glow at yourself in the mirror. 

Wetting your hair and re-curling your golden ringlets with a serum, you place two pearly clips to push aside the front pieces of your hair on each side, framing your face in the most pleasing way. 

Terrifyingly beautiful. 

I am dreamy, I am translucent, I am a child of the moon. 

With a deep breath and another prayer to the moon, you’re gliding out of the bathroom. 

May the moon bless this day. 

“I’m hungry,” you state as your feet patter towards him sitting in the chair, his body did not move an inch, now holding one of your hair clips. You stand in front of him, nearly at eye-level. Perplexed, angry, annoyed, curious, lustful- all the emotions you could sniff out as he gave you a slow, deliberate look over. 

“Would you like to join me for breakfast?” You breathe, refraining from twirling your fingers together. Asking, not taking, was not a talent of yours. It makes you blush, makes you sweat. 

“Tell me how you serve your moon while you eat.” 

You find yourself agreeing with the slightest of smiles. 

@angeli-fucking-cat <3

[heiterbroward]

New Gossip Girl Headcanons!!!

•monet was a gmw stan and got in fights with people about it on tumblr

•every time audrey reads a book aki watches the corresponding movie/vice versa

•obie only posted a black square but his mom forced him to delete it

•every time a Taylor Swift album drops, audrey, monet, and luna go over to julien’s house for a party (zoya will be invited to the next one)

•zoya is a gleek

•monet and zoya talk online through their tumblrs but they dk who it is irl

•obie almost got cancelled for following fox news on insta but saved himself by saying his finger accidentally pressed follow

•monet and luna are beronica/cheronica/cheryl and donna warriors

•kate pours the milk in first when she eats cereal

•max wants to be an architect

•one halloween the group all went as the coven from ahs except obie because he didn’t know what ahs was

•zoya and aki go to her house to watch tick tick boom together bc she likes musicals and it's on his watchlist, but they don't talk the whole time

•zoya’s dad only orders fraps

•audrey has to make her mom tea every morning and when she comes home from school but has to remake it because her mom falls asleep and it gets lukewarm

•the teacher pulled obie out of class because his backpack smelled (it was actually just his hair)

•obie and max fight over aki bc obie is his marshall, but max is his barney; aki is ted

•luna loves bojack horseman

•monet forced everyone to go to the theater to watch ocean’s 8

•kate and her incel bestie give out negative dojo points

•aki breaks his skateboard every single day and always has to buy a new one

•monet was on fifth harmony stan twitter

•audrey is afraid of holes and kins ally mayfair-richards

•aki watches the simpsons but only the smithers eps

•max is a barb

•obie is team jacob and gale

•zoya loves green tea fraps

•julien never does any work for group projects and just does all the presenting

•aki ships craig and tweek

•max and aki sneak in his dad’s room to try on his dresses

•audrey def thinks monets new red hair looks good bc she likes people w weird colored hair

•gideon kins lady bird

•julien's dad's gf has a crush on max's birth mom; she's her celeb crush!