#he does have a Gift for bending them to suit his needs

[ceruark]

Yandere MBTI: Sunday

credit: Yandere MBTI System created by the amazing @ddarker-dreams! used with permission. words: 1,046 cw: yandere themes: abduction, brainwashing, manipulation. a/n: happy birthday to me! here’s my gift to all of us :>

Final Assessment: RDMS

Reverent

Sunday holds you nearly as high as the aeon he worships. He adores you, and your endless happiness is one of his primary motivators for pursuing that perfect world. It’s because of this that he keeps you locked away in Dewlight Pavilion; the world is an unforgiving place, and he’s already lost so much. As long as you’re safe and by his side, where he can shower you with affection and make sure every single one of your needs is met, you won’t have to know suffering the way he has.

Any material possession you ask for is left outside your bedroom door the next morning. Exquisite dishes are served to you every night, no matter how much the imported ingredients may cost. Every single article of clothing in your closet is made from the finest materials and fitted to perfectly suit your body. He’ll give you anything your heart desires, darling— just not your freedom.

That isn’t to say that Sunday can’t be cruel, though. As is evident in the Penacony story at times, he enjoys toying around with others and does possess somewhat sadistic tendencies. If you resist him too much and for too long, he’ll feel justified in putting you through some type of punishment: trapping you in the miniature display city, locking you in your room for days and ensuring that none of your attendants speak to you, or warping your dream to be something more of a nightmare. The slight satisfaction he gets from watching you suffer just a fraction of how agonized he’s been without your love is enough for him to brush off any guilt he feels, and the way you cling to him when it’s all said and done makes it even sweeter.

Delusional

Though he does fall under this category, he’s not blind enough to convince himself that you love him unconditionally the way he does for you— no, he can recognize that you begrudge him for taking you away from your home and the people you once called your family. However, he is delusional in the sense that he believes he can get you to love him.

After all, not too long ago you were falling for his charm, blushing at his delicate touches and clinging to his arm as he walked you through the hidden alleyways of Penacony. Back then, you were always eager to rendezvous with him when he could make time and find a place out of the public’s eye— certainly, you’ll be able to feel such tender emotion for him once more. You just need time to adjust to your new home, your new life. 

However, his patience is not endless, and he will use more drastic measures if it means earning the love for him he knows is sleeping somewhere deep within your heart. At times where he feels particularly paranoid and vulnerable— such as after losing Robin, or when leaving Penacony with the Astral Express— he may resort to using the brainwashing power of The Harmony to make you more docile and willing to bend to his whims. It does hurt him to do this to you, but the few moments of you peacefully sitting in his lap or holding him in your arms makes it worth it.

Manipulative

Sunday needs you like a dying man in the desert needs water. That being said, almost nothing is off the table for him when it comes to winning your love.

As the Oak Family Head, it’s incredibly easy for him to get into the good graces of your family and friends. If you’re able to see through his carefully crafted mask this early into his pursual of you, then he’s pulling at the strings of those in your inner circle, commandeering them like puppets. They do his job for him by challenging your hesitation over accepting his affections; this is the most powerful man in Penacony you’re talking about, and he’s such a gentleman who’s so clearly smitten with you! Why would you possibly turn down a man like that?

If you’re not able to see through his facade, though, he’s doing everything in his power to make sure he shines like gold in your eyes. Unexpectedly, things in Penacony start falling apart for you: you’ve been kicked out of your residence, your friends have turned against you, and the sweet dream you’ve found here is rapidly unraveling before your eyes due to the will of some unknown higher being. Not to worry, though— Sunday is here for you, and he’s more than happy to help you rebuild everything lost, making sure to root himself into the foundation of your new dream as much as possible.

After becoming part of the Astral Express, though, his means of trying to coax you into loving him are a bit different. He knows he’s pitiful after his fall from grace, and he’s willing to swallow his pride and appear more pathetic and subdued if it means you’ll pardon his previous actions against you and comfort him.

As mentioned in the previous section, he’s not against using more unsavory methods of manipulating you in the name of keeping you close. Using The Harmony on you is a last resort, but he will if he must— the end always justifies the means.

Strict

As is obvious, he’s keeping you chained by his side. As the Oak Family Head, he’s got you locked inside Dewlight Pavilion at all times. During the few instances you’re permitted to wander Golden Hour, two Bloodhound members are glued to your side if he can’t escort you around himself. You’re never alone, and you’re never out of his sight— the nightingales that lurk in the shadows just a few feet behind you are a testament to that.

As a member of the Astral Express, he’s still hesitant to let you out of his sight. He may not possess the same means of following you around or trapping you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t guilt you into staying with him after everything he’s been through. If anything, he’s even worse now than ever before; you’re the only familiar thing he has control over in the uncertain, vast journey before him, and he clings onto your love and those last shreds of power like a lifeline.

[ideas-ideasideasideas]

JayTim omegaverse AU where Tim presents as an omega when he’s stalking Batman and Jason-as-Robin. Jason finds him collapsed on a rooftop and tries to help him but the proximity triggers his own presentation as an alpha. From there things go to hell in a hand basket and they ride out their first heat/rut together. In the immediate aftermath, once they have both recovered enough presence of mind, they agree that this is no one’s fault but it doesn’t stop Jason from feeling guilty about taking advantage of Tim so he escorts Tim home (in the process finding out they’re neighbours) and asks if there’s anything that he can do for him to make up for whatever the hell just happened.

There’s a lot of trauma to unpack here for the both of them but Tim is barely a teenager and Jason has emotionally repressed Batman for a parental figure so they just mutually decide not to mention it ever again because if you pretend it never happened then it can’t hurt you right? (Wrong.) Anyway, Tim tells Jason that if he really wants to do something for him then maybe he can just not tell Batman that Tim was on a rooftop at night, pretty please? At which point Jason, horrified that a boy Tim’s age is running around on rooftops unsupervised in the most crime-ridden parts of Gotham at the most crime-infested time of the day, makes it his personal duty to figure out why Tim does this and also how he can convince him to NOT do this. What he did to Tim was wrong on so many levels but oh god, what if someone so much worse found Tim instead? He agrees to Tim’s request on the condition that Tim carries a beacon at all times during his nighttime extracurricular activities.

Jason brings the beacon over as soon as possible, which turns out to be the next day after school (as Robin of course), and the sight of Tim alone in a giant house compels him to stay for a while, and a while turns into the rest of the day. Tim shows off the photos he’s taken of Batman and the Robins, and Jason is reluctantly but appropriately impressed by Tim’s stealth.

A friendship grows between them.

And then Jason dies.

And Batman grows too reckless.

And Dick refuses to be Robin again.

And Tim becomes Robin—

Except he doesn’t. Not really. He wears Jason’s Robin suit for a very short time before random bouts of nausea take him off the field. But Batman is still beating the shit out of petty criminals and Tim is desperate to help, so he allows Alfred (bless him) to call him a discreet doctor to ensure that his illness is not due to anything he was exposed to while Batman-wrangling before he’s allowed back on the field. Tim just wants it over and done with quickly so he can get back out there and—

He’s not allowed to back on the field.

He’s holding a little black-and-white picture of a literal human growing inside him and he is absolutely benched until there is no longer a literal human growing inside him.

Doctor Thompkins lays out his options, is brutally honest about how his body (too young, too small) will handle a pregnancy (not well), and asks if there is anything he wants to tell her (if there’s anyone Batman needs to put in jail for touching him). Tim doesn’t have long to consider his options—he’s nearly too far along for most clinics to be comfortable performing an abortion (although, given his age, they might be sympathetic enough to bend the rules if Doctor Thompkins can’t perform the procedure for him).

He decides to keep it, a parting gift from his friend Robin to be cherished beyond his death. There is a difficult conversation with Bruce about the child’s father (no, you can’t arrest them, they’re already dead, no, I’m not defending a heinous rapist, it’s your goddamn son, Bruce, this is your grandchild). An unforeseen but extremely welcome consequence of this is that Batman starts pulling his punches, now that he has something to live for again. He looks only half-broken now and he offers Tim a room at the Wayne manor when he finally learns about Tim’s extremely absent parents.

(Tim worries about how to break the news to his parents until he no longer has to worry about it because his mother is dead and his father is in a coma and god he wanted to avoid having that conversation with them but this wasn’t how he wanted it to happen.)

Properly benched now for the foreseeable future, Tim picks up remote vigilante-wrangling instead (from Babs?) and makes headway in some cold cases. He pulls out of school to be homeschooled instead, keeps out of the public eye, and generally avoids leaving Wayne manor because a thirteen-year-old pregnant omega living alone with an adult alpha (and his butler) is a Very Bad Look even for Brucie Wayne and Tim would rather not be known as Bruce Wayne’s child bride thank you very much.

Life proceeds in this manner, the child is delivered by Caesarian with very little fanfare. It is, unfortunately, very difficult to hide the presence of a whole infant. The public settles on the theory that the child is Bruce’s illegitimate son from one of his many dalliances and Tim allows the misconception to propagate simply because no good can come out of him, all of fourteen, publicly claiming his child. But it still stings, just a little. He made this child, held him safe in his womb for eight months. He puts him to bed and nurses him and loves him so much but nobody outside the manor will see it.

Tim bursts back into society when he’s officially adopted by Bruce. He refused to register his son as Bruce’s (it takes some extremely deft work by Oracle to file the appropriate documents for Tim’s claim on his child to be legally valid without alerting the press) but he also understands that Bruce wants a legal connection to his grandchild, so he becomes his son’s dead father’s legally adopted brother. It’s a mess, but at least people who should be are allowed into hospital rooms. It’s not like it will matter, right? Jason’s dead, right?

Wrong.

Jason is very much not dead and very much bewildered by the presence of a baby Wayne that isn’t Damian and it completely derails his plans to exact revenge on Bruce for not killing the Joker. It fucking hurts to see that he’s been replaced by not one but TWO new children but at least they aren’t Robin. At least no one is Robin. At least one of them is Tim, his lonely friend who deserves a family. He returns to Gotham, heads to Crime Alley, becomes Red Hood, and buries himself in shooting out enough kneecaps to push Bruce and Batman from his mind. That was another life. He’s fucking furious at Bruce and his replacements but god the baby has the same curly hair that Jason did and Jason can’t help but think that Bruce might actually have missed him, at least a little.

But probably not enough to love Jason as he is now, full of anger and rage and impulse to hurt hurt hurt the people who hurt others. He channels it all into cleaning up the Alley, perhaps more aggressively than Batman would (should) have, but Batman doesn’t give enough of a shit about the Alley to know that what he’s doing isn’t enough and it’s up to Jason to get his hands downright filthy if he wants to make any changes around here.

Tim notices Red Hood, because of course he does. And it takes him no time at all to realise, oh, that’s Jason. That’s Jason.

[deafsignifcantother]

alastor just being weird

♥ summary: alastor wanting you solely for the fact that you smell delightful so he starts searching your room ♥ relationships: alastor x [deaf] woman reader, deafness not a major point ♥ word count: 600 ♥ notes: reader wears makeup, she likes photography, she also doesn't really gaf about alastor being snoopy and weird LOLZ

Now that you're not in here, he can look around. He's welcomed himself into your empty room, eyes roaming everywhere except the attached bathroom, of course. He's immoral but not indecent. Where should he even start?

As the hotelier, it is his job to meet and make the guests comfortable. To be able to do that, he needs to know more about you, which is out of kindness and does not relate to how good you smell or how he would enjoy making you his next meal, most be mistaken.

Your dresser's drawers are a good start.

Just a standard assortment of socks and underwear, some salacious as any demon would have, neatly arranged. One pair of fishnets, a small collection of photos, a camera, a notebook. Do you always keep things like this? Or did you develop a new habit after the sudden move-in. He is hoping to find a clue as to who you are, and notebooks have saved him a lot of times before. He lightly picks it up and flips it open. Blank pages. Do you write in invisible ink? His claws finger through the pages one at a time before he bends them and watches them fly by. There's nothing.

He's wasting time. He places it back and lifts up the photos. The red sky above. One is a long shot of the pentagram with the Hazbin Hotel in the center.

In the next drawer there are no clothes, only a single makeup bag and accessories. Mismatched earrings, it seems you have a habit of losing one of every pair and then stashing them away—in case you find the other?

Alastor opens the drawer closest to the ground. Empty except for what he can only guess is a miscellaneous drawer. The brush smells like you from the multiple hair strands wrapped around it. His nose twitches; how delightful. He reaches for it slowly, brain rocking back and forth in his skull. But by the time he grips the handle, it's too late to stop. The bristles meet his nose, and he takes a whiff, savoring the pleasant fragrance that fills his lungs. He puts it back before he gets carried away.

Your room has a lovely and quite large wooden wardrobe. As he expected, when he opens it, there is space needing to be filled. His smile twitches at the soft gust of your smell; the scent assaults his hunger.

His index claw drags down a long sleeve, wrapping around the material and bringing it up to his nose. Even when clean, you've corrupted the cotton.

The moment the door opens, he fades into the shadows. He stands before the bathroom door as you step out in a robe, fresh out of the shower. It's the robe he gifted you, a welcome gift. He'll never tell you it's for capturing the soapy aroma of your wet body.

You look behind him, eyes flickering back. His smile tightens. Ah, he left the wardrobe's door open.

Alastor straightens his suit, shoulders a bit taut from embarrassment. He makes a show of brushing off his sleeves while you stand in the same place; the weight of your stare makes him sweat. "Well, my dear, I'm afraid I must be off, one can't even imagine the things I'm busied with!"

He looks up at you, his monocle hiding one of his eyes, his expression unreadable while he waits for a response. His wavery pupils match the small, excited shake of his hands. He doesn't leave immediately, curious him.

"And 'be off' you may," you walk past him, signing in simple pse to strengthen your point, not acknowledging him further. Your hand rests on the wooden frame, getting a small glance inside the wardrobe before closing it softly. By the time you turn around, Alastor is gone.

[haveihitanerve]

Had an idea but I forgor it so here's a different one

Bruce Wayne, concussed and on several strong painkillers, socializing with socialites from outside Gotham. They ask him about his kids and joke about how they all look so similar to him.

His brain, moving at about 3mph, does not register that his kids were ADOPTED (safe for one) and answers their questions as if he gave birth to them, forgetting he also doesn't have the facilities for that (unless you want him to- we love old trans people)

"Master Bruce I really must insist-" Alfred tried for the fourth time in seven minutes, Bruce had counted, reaching to push him back to bed and pull off the suit jacket he had only moments before helped Bruce put on.

"'M going Alf." Bruce grumbled back, rubbing a bleary hand over his eyes. "There's no use in putting it off. Don't have a good excuse and.." He grimaced. "They need to see me. It's been a while."

Alfred opened his mouth to protest again, even going so far as to move in front of the door to block his exit. "You are on far too many medications Mr. Wayne, not to mention a concussion! You simply cannot."

Bruce's lips twitched it amusement. It was a rare day when Alfred's composure was rattled to the point of calling him Mr. Wayne, and while Alfred was admittedly very strong, there was no way his physical blockation of Bruce's path would actually stop him.

"Alf." Bruce began gently, and the butler scoffed, rolling his eyes as he moved out of the way, striding down the long hallway. "Well. I see my advice isn't heeded. As always."

Bruce threw him an apologetic smile, heading for the main door. "Love ya Alfie!!" The butler snorted, but Bruce could tell he was softening.

"Call if you need boy." Alfred murmured. Bruce grinned, offering a wink as he pulled the door open. "I will." He promised, sliding into the backseat of his limousine, heading to the Gala.

He hissed as the needle broke his skin, biting his lip to prevent any further sounds as the anti-biotic worked its way into his system. Alfred would most definitely have protested its use, especially as Bruce tossed back a handful of other added painkillers, but if he was being honest, he needed them to get through the night.

"Thanks Hank. Tell your wife I said hi and grab her a bouquet on your way home. On me." He patted his driver's shoulder as he climbed out. Hank grinned, tipping his black cap.

"You always make me seem like such a good husband Mr. Wayne, I appreciate it. Have a good night." Bruce grinned back, stumbling slightly as he moved towards the doors, using the car to stabilize himself.

"You give me too much credit, send your boys some love and you have tomorrow off, try to actually use that baseball glove I gifted you." Hank chortled, setting the car into drive. "Will do sir. Good night." Bruce nodded the same back, watching until the car pulled away fully to stumble up the steps.

"Maybe those pills weren't such a good idea." He mumbled to himself as he made it to the doors, pulling them open to walk inside, heading straight for the table laid out with food. Of course, one couldn't enter a Gala without greeting the hosts, and he barely made it two steps before he was intercepted.

"Mrs. and Mr. Ketch. How lovely to see you." Bruce offered a bow, bending too low before rocking back upwards. Mrs. Ketch was smiling at him, a lovely, true smile that Bruce noticed tended to happen whenever he greeted the woman first instead of the man. Mr. Ketch was frowning, but more at Bruce's bizarre drunken act than any offense towards being placed after his wife.

"Are you alright, Wayne?" He asked, and Bruce hated that he actually liked the Ketch's, because there was genuine concern in the mans voice. Another reason why he had come.

The Ketch's were new money, self made, and trying to blend in with the old elites, though Bruce had to admit they never would, they were just too good, too kind, too sincere.

He wondered, dimly, in the back of his foggy, drug addled mind, if perhaps they'd finally tire of all the snide comments, rude looks, sneers, and give up on their well meaning charity that they had chosen Gotham for. He hoped they wouldn't. He liked having actual good conversation at these dull events.

"M fine, truly." Bruce answered, a few seconds too late, smiling lazily. "Might've had a few." He tried his best imitation at a drunken smile, wincing as he realized it was dangerously close to how he really felt.. tipsy. Off balance.

Robert, because that was his name, he had told Bruce his first name instead of demanding he call him Mr., frowned a little in concern, and before he knew it they had herded him to one of the seating places, settling down by him.

"How're the kids?" Mrs. Ketch asked, handing him a glass of water that Bruce gratefully accepted. "Amazing." He answered. "Splendid. They're always doing so well. They don't see it though." He frowned at his glass, wondering why that was.

"They're so amazing though. It just doesn't make any sense," He sat up, leaning forward to look at the couple in front of him intensely. They both had their eyebrows raised in surprise, but leaned forward in tandem, intruiged.

"Because see, they're so brilliant, and lovely, and smart, really I think they're the smartest people in the world- like ever. And Dickie, he's so kind and sweet and nice, and he's got a few problems and I'm sorry about it but he's really just amazing and an all around good person, I really oughtta try and be more like him, and oh he's got my eyes, im so glad he got my eyes, but i love his nose too, its nothing like mine- anyway Jason too- whoo he got my height im so happy for him- he also has my eyes! they all have my eyes actually, except cass, and damian, but like he's so brilliant and smart and he was such a good kid, he is now too- oh he doesn't like me calling him kid, but he'll always be my baby, and oh i cried so much when he died, but he better now, oh and Timmy, oh timmy is so smart. Soooo smart like genuis level, and he's wayy smarter than me, wayyyy smarter, and alfie says he has my hair, but i dont see it- i think he got my jaw though- and then Cass oh Cassandra My baby girl she's lovely and sweet and a charmer, beautiful girl, so is Barbara, but she won't let me say that to her, no no, but she is, she's so pretty and smart and quick, she scares me sometimes but I love her, such a good girl yknow? And Stephanie? Oh she and Tim need to make it official so shes mine. mine mine mine. I need another daughter you know? Too many boys. Equality of men and women at home. I need them home. And then Duke. hes so lovely too. Oh and Damian. Damian took some adjusting but they're all so lovely yknow? I remember the day they were born so vividly. I was so happy. I love them so much. It hurt, of course, but what is that to the joy they bring now yknow?"

Bruce took a sip of his drink, nodding thoughtfully as he leaned back. Mrs. and Mr. Ketch blinked a few times, opened their mouths, closed them again, and leaned back as well, exchanging glances.

"Yes. Well. Quite." Mr. Ketch cleared his throat. "Bruce, perhaps we should call you someone? To take you home?" Mrs. Ketch nodded her agreement.

"Come on sweetheart, let's get you home. You need to go to bed and.. and sleep this off." Bruce nodded, letting them help him stand and guide him to the door as Mr. Ketch called someone.

"Yeah. I like bed. And sleep. Oh- but I can't. Uh-uh, I promised Dickie I'd call him." Bruce nodded, turning to head back inside as though that would help his quest.

Mrs. Ketch grabbed his arm and gently, but firmly, led him back outside. "Rob just called him sweetheart, he's on his way."

"Oh." Bruce nodded. "Oh. Thas good." Mrs. Ketch nodded her agreement, rubbing his back soothingly. "I like that." Bruce hummed, letting his eyes close. "Its like what my mother used to do." Mrs. Ketch looked at him in surprise, hand stilling for a second before resuming.

"Really?" She asked gently. Bruce hummed in confirmation. "Oh yes. Yeah she did. You do it well. You'd make a good mom. Just like me. Well, I don't make a good mom." At that he frowned at the ground, biting his lip. "But I try."

Mrs. Ketch smiled, turning them as a car pulled up. "Yes. You do. And you do it marvelously Bruce, truly. That's all we can ever do. Try." Bruce nodded his agreement as the door opened and his eldest emerged, rushing to his side.

"Bruce!" Dick looked genuinely worried, grabbing his shoulder. "You alright?" His son's eyes were searching, scanning his body.

"Oh hes fine." Mrs. Ketch waved with a smile. "Just a few drinks. I think it'd be best he go home though, sleep it off." Dick nodded his agreement, smiling at her. "Yes. I think thats best. Thank you." She shrugged, waving it off.

"Of course. It's what he would have done for me." Dick lowered Bruce into the passenger seat, heading for the drivers. "Bruce." Ketch tapped the window, leaning down. "Hm?" Bruce tilted his head, rolling it down.

"I'm pregnant." Bruce waited, jaw dropping slowly as the words connected in his brain. "You are?" She nodded, a small smile crossing her face.

"Yes. You're the first person I've told." She glanced nervously over her shoulder, to where her husband was waiting on the steps. Bruce reached for her hand, clasping it in his own.

"You'll make an excellent mother. And he will make an amazing father." He promised. She smiled, biting her lip anxiously. "You think?" Bruce nodded. "I know." At that her smile softened, and she patted his cheek.

"Thank you. And, for what it's worth Bruce," She glanced past him to Dick, who was kindly pretending not to listen. "I think you make an excellent mother."

[iskratempestmadness]

The characters of "Baki the Grappler" and places to kiss

Baki:

Jowls

This is already something like a ritual. You wake up and get a kiss on the cheek. You're going to work and he's going to kiss you on the cheek again. Guess what he does before going to bed... That's right, he'll kiss you on the cheek. It's just that Bucky likes to show his love that way, and consistency suits him. But why the cheeks? He doesn't fully understand it himself. It's just that when he looks at you, his gaze seems to be magnetized to your cheeks. It is also possible that he will sometimes bite your cheeks 😈

Hanayama :

Lips

Yes, it's simple. He just loves your lips. No reason at all. But he kisses you clearly more tenderly than shown in the spin-off. He likes it when you initiate kisses. That's why he asks you to kiss him when he buys you something or does any housework. It's SWEET, but sometimes it can get to the point of absurdity. Just as kissing is his way of showing love, so are gifts. (Yes, yes, yes, I remember writing about it, but it really seems to me that it is difficult for Hana to express herself in words)

Katsumi:

Neck

Ohhh, she beckons him. He likes your neck for several reasons. First, he LOVES your reaction, Sometimes his kisses are like tickling, so you always need to be ready, besides, he has no sense of proportion at all. Second, he just can't help but do it, it just seems so logical to him. Like he can do when you're hugging or when you're standing with your back to him, or when... Yes, this part of the body is always just convenient for him. The third is your scent, it also attracts him. (uh, I'm sorry, but in this case he looks like a dog just.... Uhhh... hell, I once read a fic in which the author compared him to a Labrador and this idea firmly entered my head. It's JUST THAT he REALLY LOOKS LIKE) Small bites to the neck are also possible (he is loving)

Jack:

The back of the head or forehead

Why two at once? It all depends on the time of day. At night, he prefers to kiss the back of the head (he is a big spoon, of course) during the day and the forehead. Why? It's easier for him to reach it. Like even if you're tall, he'll have to bend down to kiss you, so it's really closer. He also thinks that it's somehow more caring towards you, somehow cozy. The story is the same as with Bucky, it's a ritual. (Something like a blessing) AND YOU WON'T LEAVE FOR WORK UNTIL HE KISSES YOU ON THE FOREHEAD. YOU CAN'T BREAK THE RITUAL.

Retsu:

Hands

Firstly, he has always been, is and will be a gentleman for this very reason. It's just a cute gesture in which he can show respect for you and interest (it seems to me in all other cases he either just introduces himself to the girls or stretches out his hand to shake) Secondly, he also likes your reaction when he kisses the back of his hand. He likes to make you laugh that way. He also likes to kiss your knuckles and watch your embarrassment.

Shibukawa:

Back

In general, he likes any place where touching it can make you laugh. But he is drawn most often to his back. Especially to the shoulder blades. Especially before going to bed (yes, he is also a big spoon, but he also does not mind being small, he even likes the second option better) or suddenly give you a kiss on the shoulder blade while you are working around the house (if you have open clothes, of course). It is also convenient for him, as you may have noticed, he is small (it seems to me that he would not want a partner less than himself, although he is loyal to this in principle)

Chiharu:

Shoulders

He often buries himself in your shoulders when he hugs you and can't help but give them kisses. He's also attracted to your scent, which he thinks is concentrated in your shoulders. And of course he likes your reaction of surprise and embarrassment. With this bunch of factors, how can he hold back now? However, if you try to kiss him back, his confidence will collapse instantly and now he stands confused and worried.

(it doesn't seem like he's not used to showing feelings on your part)

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 22/22

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21

STORY 2 - Sequel

I can't believe it?? I made it, Ma!

Luci's General Suit inspired by this FANART on twt by @kajina_97

This is the COMIC that inspired me to write the whole thing because I wanted this ending so bad klajdklsa it's by @Sandranetta_13 on twt

Dk what tomorrow might entai. Might be the first chapter for the sequel?

Let me know what you guys think! Please, I'm very desperate.

I'm willing to do a Q&A regarding your thoughts. DMs and Asks are OPEN! <3

Will link the sequel here once posted

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

Everything was relatively normal the following week. His and Charlie's long overdue moment with no more miscommunication made Lucifer feel a whole lot better. He couldn't ask for a better daughter.

Dressing himself in one of his battle suits, he felt like he could take on the world. Nothing says King of Hell like your best warrior outfit and a badass sword in full display.

Lucifer: Looking pretty dapper there, me.

Lucifer doesn't even bother to style his hair- it now flows animatedly like that of Lilith's.

Flowers were still being sent to him especially when he was first spotted roaming around the hotel after a week-ish long recovery. Charlie had the amazing idea of making a greenhouse or some sort of garden to put all the flowers and keep them alive as long as possible.

They got rid of any red ones after someone sent a buttload of them which then caused him to have a mini panic attack. Alastor is subtly trying to take that moment off his mind by leaving Marigolds everywhere. It's sweet but soon they're going to need a separate greenhouse for just the Marigolds. Where'd he even get these??

Finding his first Marigold of the day, in the bathroom of all places really Alastor??, he makes his way to the lobby. Everyone was there doing their own thing.

Husk and Angel are at the bar as usual, with the latter talking animatedly about something that puts an endearing expression on Husk's face. Nifty is putting on roach puppet shows for Alastor. The radio demon notices him and conveys his most 'help me' face but he just chuckled and gives him a thumbs up. The cyclops named Cherri is today's gift screener, grumbling about the pollen and the shitty taste some demons have.

Charlie and Vaggie were talking to a small group of demons by the entrance. As soon as his daughter sees him, she said something to the group then walked over to him.

Charlie: Good morning, dad!

Lucifer: You look busy.

Charlie: They're sinners who are asking about the hotel! I'm so happy that people are at least coming here to check it out. Did you have a good sleep?

Lucifer: Well, I don't feel like passing out today. So pretty good!

Charlie: That's great, dad!

Angel: Short king! Looking good in that fit!

Cherri: Yeah! Do a spin, hot stuff!

He blushes at the sudden attention. Everyone is looking at him in awe- maybe it was too much?

Alastor: Nonsense, dear.

Alastor appeared beside him in a flurry of shadows, seemingly reading his mind. He bends down at Lucifer's level to whisper in his ear. He plucked the Marigold Lucifer was holding, putting it behind the King's hair.

Alastor: I, for one, think you never looked so.. raveshing~

Damn him.

Lucifer: Shut up.

Lucifer hisses in response. Like, seriously? In front of his daughter? Thank Father, Charlie didn't hear that.

Charlie: Yeah! You look so cool. I don't think I've seen you wear that except for when there's a banquet.

Lucifer: Yeah, well, I wanted to look put together after everything.

Charlie softens at his words.

Alastor: No need for that, sire. I'm sure no one is foolish enough to comment negatively on what the King of Hell chooses to look like.

Lucifer: What does that make you then?

Alastor: Privileged, my King~

Lucifer rolls his eyes at the audacity but he can't help but smile. Man, he never thought he'd miss their constant banter.

Charlie: You look awesome, dad, okay? Al, please slow down with the Marigolds, Nifty's going crazy. Oh! Dad, right, Aunt Bel called said that the Sloth Ring is making incredible progress and that she'll visit again soon. I think Aunt Bee is planning a party with the other Sins and would like it to be held here in Pride! At the hotel! It would be so cool and of course if you're not ready I can tell them and maybe a little get together would be better. I'll even invite Sev! He gave flowers for you too and Vaggie was so jealous when I said he was my ex and thought the flowers were for me, she was so cute-

Lucifer tried, but he stopped listening halfway through his daughter's talk. It was a bit of an information overload but he kept a small, genuine smile on his face for her.

Then something caught his eye that made him stopped smiling altogether.

Charlie notices this causing her to stop talking.

Charlie: Dad?

He should answer but his eyes were locked on the wall behind Charlie. Plastered on the higher part of the lobby's wall was a glowing mark- gold wings with a dot on the center.

Lucifer turns around so fast to look outside the hotel's window. Heaven looks so out of place up there, sticking out like a sore thumb upon Hell's red skies.

A glint in the distance made him act. Without warning, he took off with such force that those inside the hotel were knocked down by the gust of his wings.

He breaks the window on his way out and pulls out Lightbringer. Lucifer brings the sword up and-

A powerful explosion lit up the sky. The sky split in two and fire appeared high and wide over Pride. At that moment, everyone became so hot that they couldn't bear it, as if their whole body was on fire. They wanted to rip their skin off just to get a sense of relief but then the sky shut closed. A strong thump was heard by every demon in the vicinity and then they were all thrown a few meters.

It felt like an eternity before Charlie and the others could get their bearings. Those that didn't get knocked out went outside, once there, they see Lucifer far up in the sky, holding up a flaming sword. The signature pentagram of the city has been fractured by whatever happened and demons all around were either hurt or unconscious.

Charlie: Dad!

Charlie calls out to her dad but he doesn't acknowledge her. His gaze never leaving Heaven, as if he's seeing something that no one else can.

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

A screen locked on Hell zooms out as the machine's voice rang out 'target disengaged'.

An angel looking similarly to Lucifer, except there's blue tints on the spots where Lucifer had reds, was looking down at Hell pulling back a large, golden gun. They blew the smoke residue and sighed.

Michael: Hello, Lucifer... Still causing trouble, I see.

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

it's done??

cliffhanger but don't worry, there's a sequel!

I spent 30 minutes looking for that comic that inspired this ending.

Did y'all catch that Lemmino reference? I'd have that description in my head rent free ever since I watched Grazed by the Apocalypse

Again, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this! This was my first published baby and I'm so proud !

[procrastinatingwritersblog]

Superpowers AU

Juliette can control fire. This means so much more when she sees the servant’s house burning, but she can’t stop it, because she’s young and she’s dumb and she was never going to be enough to save her Nurse. When she returns to New York, she practices (but it’s still too late). On innocent buildings and at the end of cigarettes. When she sets White Flowers alight, she pretends like she can’t hear the boy of ice (but his heart was warmer than hers, always) whispering, Oh, dorogaya, what have you become?

Roma can control ice. For a boy whose heart beats warmer (and bloodier) than anyone else, it does not suit him. It places him at odds with the girl trying to win a marble from him, the impulsive girl of fire, but he falls anyway (he always does). He keeps his powers within him most of the time. He can’t let it out, because ice is supposed to be sharp and jagged and all the things he refuses to be. Even so, every time he makes snow for Alisa during a Shanghai summer, he has to feel that maybe, just this once, ice can be soft too.

Kathleen could control the stones beneath their feet. The treasured Lang son could control plants and vines. Celia lands somewhere between them both, or something else entirely. She uses her powers to control flowers, to gift her sister bouquets and watch her expression light up with joy. It is not suitable for the right-hand woman of the Scarlet heir, it’s not harsh enough, not enough like a gangster, but as Juliette tucks a daisy that Celia grew in her hair, smiling, it suits her anyway.

Rosalind can control alcohol. Sometimes, she thinks she was always destined to be just who she was—a dancer chasing tips at the Bund, never more, but never quite less either. She plays with drinks, puts on a show for the patrons, and she leaves with pockets a bit fuller (not like she needs it, not like she needs it at all). She always feels a bit lesser than Juliette and her sister. How could she not? She controls drinks, while Juliette plays with fire itself and her sister creates beauty in the world. She was always destined to fall for Dimitri’s tricks, in this world and in every other.

Marshall can’t fall. As a child, he always sprang up from the most deadly of falls with nothing but a scrape or bruise to show of it. His power came on early, so people thought he was just lucky for most of his life. His father got frustrated with his ‘lack’ of a power sometimes, when he came home. But that never mattered when he had a mother who reassured him he didn’t need a superpower, even as they started to suspect he had one after all. So when he runs, he runs from more than an absent father—he runs from a disapproving one.

Benedikt can control the weather. He can’t change it, but if it’s particularly windy or rainy or hot, he can bend the temperature or the rain and wind to his will. It’s always hard to put his power into words, just like almost everything about him. He’s quiet, but he makes a little umbrella for the people he cares about every time it rains. When he meets Marshall, this time, it’s raining. It’s raining and they are two kids with early superpowers and Benedikt is offering him a dry place to stay, a roof to live under, and a lovely heart to steal.

[userarmand]

okay cos i'm not a book reader, can i ask what other vampire gifts vampires and armand therefore might have? bc in the talamasca files screenshot it says "cloud, fire, mind, etc" so what's the etc? is there more?

anne rice was kinda wishy-washy about the rules of the vampire powers so nothing's really set in stone but in addition to the three u listed, there's also the spell gift that's like an enchantment type of thing where they can bend and control someone's mind to suit their needs (lestat uses it on the soldiers to boot them out the townhouse) (don't ask me how that's different from the mind gift but it is apparently). armand also does this thing where he can sorta 'throw' his image (idk how to explain it) so as to appear like he's in two places at once but that's kinda tied to his control of the mind gift. i will also say that in the books they don't stop time so much as just move super fast - so i guess speed is one of them? basically the older they get, the stronger they get, but that's also dependent on how powerful their maker was at the time they were turned (armand's strong af bc marius was old as balls)

[pluviophiles]

umbrella academy season 4 ending - rewritten (PART 1)

since we were absolutely robbed this season, i felt the need to publish my own little version of the tua s4 ending. im sure it's riddled with plot holes, but it does give me a bit of satisfaction after watching whatever the tom fuckery happened in the last season.

warnings : tua s4 spoilers, wordbuilding, unpolished writing

... as luther, diego, allison, klaus, five, viktor, and lila are slowly engulfed by the monstrous blob, there is a blinding flash of gold. the scene cuts to black. [after a short pause] hard cut to BEN sitting on the subway - the very same scene we saw in s3 post-credits. it plays out the same way we've seen before, yet continues even after ben looks up from the book in hand. the train slowly comes to a stop, presumably having arrived at a station. cut to the subway door, which slowly opens. enter KLAUS, and then DAVE. the two of them converse, cheerily, hand-in-hand. klaus walks straight past ben, and the audience realizes that, in this timeline, the umbrella siblings are complete strangers. the two of them sit down several feet away from ben. as klaus reaches for dave, the audience can see a newly-inked tattoo on his forearm - a marigold. the camera pans back to ben, zoomed further in. now, the audience can see that, on the side of his glasses, there is a small, bedazzled marigold design. a flash of recognition can be seen in ben's eyes. he scrunches his eyebrows together, as if trying to piece together two foreign pieces of information. the camera pans again, revealing JENNIFER in the seat across from ben. JENNIFER ben… is everything alright? ben shakes his head slightly, unsure of himself. BEN it's nothing. [he clears his throat, and with more conviction, repeats, ] it's nothing. jennifer is clearly unconvinced, but decides to drop the subject for now. cut to the subway door once more, and the rest of the umbrellas file in, one-by-one. first, ALLISON, with CLAIRE and RAY. the three of them sit down in one far corner of the car; a happy family. as the light shifts, allison's necklace glints and shimmers. (design? a marigold.) then, DIEGO and LILA with their three kids. as they sit down, GRACE shyly pulls out a marigold flower, handing it to her parents. GRACE [incoherent] ...for you. diego takes it with a huge grin on his face and tucks it behind lila's ear. the latter bends down to plant a kiss on her daughter's forehead. after them came LUTHER. he was by his lonesome, but sat down near a beautiful woman - SLOANE. clumsily, he brushes up against her, and quickly offers awkward apologies. they fall into a comfortable conversation. the audience can see that here, he has a watch similar to the one reginald originally gifted him, with a marigold in its center. VIKTOR comes in, trailing behind SISSY and HARLAN. the two of them are now married, with matching stones set on their fingers. viktor is donning dark blue jean jacket, an embroidered marigold at the top. the last one to the party is FIVE. however, here, he is no longer a teenager. instead, he has gotten to live his life like the rest of his family, and is now at the ripe age of 35. he sits down with his partner, who the audience recognizes as DELORES. hazily, he wraps his arm around her. he's wearing a suit as per usual, with the addition of a marigold brooch. each of the seven siblings seem to be in their own bubbles, suggesting that they finally reached contentment. still, they are connected together by the marigold, even if it is no longer inside of them. in this timeline, the umbrellas were almost the opposite of dysfunctional. perhaps the problem was never them, but reginald. for, here, the seven of them flourished.

(PART 2 SOON TO COME)

[mattsundaes]

hi lovelie

im a new follower and im just gonna say how much ily mwah

but also I saw someone else being horny so i wanna be too especially for older!kuroo. he's slowed down in age, but don't think he's lost his charm. he has sparse patches of gray in his hair and smile lines god he's delicious. youre not a fan of sports, but you lie and say whatever you need to to get in his pants. he knows, figured it out when you mistook "spike" for "punting". he just hums as you make a fool of yourself, but youre the cute, new assistant and he's thinking of all the ways he can bend you over his desk or have you on your knees in a storage closet.

and he does get you to do that, except it's in the backseat of his sports car which gets him excited like hes reliving his high school times except he isn't fumbling. he's more experienced and more forceful to get you to make a mess on his leather seats and expensive suit. he doesn't have the time to fully fuck you, so he fingers you on your lunch break. you actually squirt, leaving a patch on his pants and sleeve which is embarrassing considering you now can't find your panties.

oops, you must've been too dazed to see him kick them beneath his seat to collect later. he needs more, but duty calls and you need to be back at your desk in 5. whomp whomp.

NONNIEEEEEEEE thank you for this gift omg.

sexy experienced older!kuroo my beloved. this has altered my brain chemistry. dare i say he leaves you absolutely reeling??? because getting fingered has never felt that good until kuroo. he does it with the confidence of a man that knows he can make you make a mess.

and when what finally pushes him to have a risky fuck right there in his office is when he catches one of the interns flirting with you?

i am :) unwell :)

[theriddlettesblog]

Home Runner, a Team Fortress 2 fanfiction

Chapter 2

Six a.m. eventually rolls around and Scout’s dollar store alarm clock goes off. The man gets out of bed and puts the clothes he left on the floor the previous night back on and heads out to work.

Today, the teams are sent to Dustbowl to fight over the gravelled territory (which is inherently worthless in terms of generating income for either team’s company). History repeats itself as Scout spends the setup time before the match zoned out thinking to himself. He goes over his interactions from the start of yesterday’s match to late last night when Miss Pauling called him. He has indeed been acting differently lately, but he still doesn’t know why.

Up to the start and through the entire mission, Scout remains in a daze, everything he experiences feels surreal, like the dreams he doesn’t have anymore. The screaming and rocket jumping phase right through him, everything circling around his head, but he sees none of it. Without realization, Jeremy is standing right in the middle of the battlefield, doing nothing like a single tree planted in a forest that’s burning down. Much to everyone’s surprise, RED and BLU, nothing touches him, not a bullet, nor a rocket, nor a sticky bomb moves a single fiber on his shirt. The battle rages on for another two and half minutes and once again, RED is victorious. As soon as The Administrator declares the round over, the teams head back to their respective bases. Scout, still unaware of his surroundings, follows suit, grabs a single Bonk from the fridge, and heads home once again.

For the entire following week, each day's events perfectly mimic today’s: alarm goes off, Scout goes to work, match begins, Scout stands idle in battle but leaves unharmed, Scout goes home, Miss Pauling calls Scout, Scout says nothing, alarm goes off. He’s stuck in a rut and feels he can’t change anything about the hole he’s been dug into. However, on day eight, in a vain attempt to better his bitter feelings toward life, Scout doesn’t leave his room at all. He lays in bed, wide-eyed and staring at his motionless broken ceiling fan, three hours past when he should have shown up at work, headset buzzing nonstop. Unbeknownst to Scout, nobody from his team is calling him, Miss Pauling is the one pinging the head-mounted radio, cursing at herself and begging him to answer, but he’ll never hear any of it. Hours later, due to ceaseless calls, the batteries in the Bottle Cap die, leaving Scout in stiff indestructible silence.

Hours, or perhaps days, pass without Jeremy’s notice as he has no way to tell time in his darkened hovel of a room simply by staring at an unmoving air mover. He slips in and out of sleep without his own awareness for he does not maneuver in any way nor does he feel any more rested upon his numerous awakenings.

After however long it takes to break the stillness in the room, a knock is heard at Jeremy’s door. Shattering his conscious/unconscious trance, he gets out of his cot and walks to the closed doorway. Scout opens it but sees no one even when he checks down both directions of the hall. His tired bloodshot eyes drift to the floor and he spots a small package of two AA batteries. Scout bends down and picks up the tiny gift before shutting the door of which is in bad need of an oiling. Jeremy’s blank expressionless stare glazes over the batteries after he sits back down onto his place of mostly undisturbed rest. He thrusts his arm to toss the box onto the table in front of his yellow sweat-stained mattress but prevents himself from letting go when he sees his Bottle Cap’s headset. A moment of hesitation passes by before Scout removes the batteries in the radio and replaces them with the two he had just received. The single headphone immediately begins ringing so the tired sprinter answers.

“Hello?” Jeremy asks in an exhausted voice.

“Scout?” Miss Pauling asks in return.

“Yeah?” Jeremy confirms.

“Scout!” The woman replies, ecstatic at the fact that the runner is not deceased despite her worst suspicions. The man’s eyes light up but the ends of his mouth do not move. “God! Don’t scare me like that! Do you know what I’ve been through? I thought you were dead!” Pauling yells in a mostly happy tone.

“No, but I’ve gotten pretty close.” Scout responds, eyelids returning to their half-opened state.

The overly-jovial assistant almost entirely ignores that statement from Jeremy and goes on, “We need to talk, like, about a lot of things, Scout.”

A moment passes. “Okay,” The speedster lets out in a fatigued breath while putting on the headset as well as his glasses, getting ready for a long arduous conversation. He then continues, “yeah, what do you need to know, Miss Pauling?”

The young woman begins to compose herself as is audible to Scout through the sound of her shifting in her seat attempting to organize her thoughts into cohesive words, “First off,” she begins with a wary voice, “how are you feeling?” Jeremy is taken aback by this premiere question, expecting her to instead ask why he hadn’t been at work for however long nor said anything to her leading up to this call.

“Uh,” Scout pauses, trying to think of a believable answer akin to the kind of person Miss Pauling knows him as.

You know what? Screw it.

“Not good, really not good.” Scout answers, half-expecting the assistant on the other end of the call to shrug it off and tell him to buck up.

“Yeah, I kinda noticed, everyone has noticed, Scout. I just wanted you to be honest with me but more importantly, yourself.” The runner is stunned by the level of compassion coming from the same woman who was tasked to kill him for pressing a button three months prior. Still dumbfounded by this response, Jeremy remains silent, mouth open forming words, but releasing no sounds.

An entire minute of weighted silence goes by with Pauling eventually ending it, “Do you want to talk about any of it, Jeremy?” Scout’s astonishment intensifies at the sound of the only woman he respects more than his mother using his first name as if they were friends, which he so desperately hoped they were despite their recent lack of meaningful communication.

“I,” Scout begins to reply without a single notion moving through his mind but eventually, one pops in, “I don’t even know what it is.” He was being genuinely honest, he didn’t know what he was feeling and couldn’t much less talk about it. Without a second string of thoughts, Scout follows up, “Can you just, give me some time to think about all this? I need to figure out what’s goin’ on so I can, you know, talk about it. Tell The Administrator she can dock my pay and penalize me all she wants, it really doesn’t matter anymore.” Jeremy recognizes that no amount of money or hats would help him think this through, so why should he care if he gets paid or not?

“Sure, Scout. Take all the time you need, I’ll wait until you want to talk. I’ll also make sure Helen doesn’t send anyone to kill you. I know you said you’re good with any kind of penalty but I don’t think you meant death.” Pauling brings this up just to be certain that Scout does not actually want to die and this move ultimately puts him in a corner to give her a clear answer.

“Well, yeah, I really didn’t mean death,” Pauling breathes a silent breath of relief to the confirmation that the person she cares the most about wants to stay alive. “I meant she can cash out all my nicest hats if she wanted to.”

“Right, yeah, got it.” the woman replies, still calming down from the unpleasant thought of Scout being okay with dying. Scout releases a tired sigh and thanks Miss Pauling for the call then hangs up after she tells him things will be okay. The sprinter takes off his headset and places it gently down on the small table in front of him. He then lays back on his bed to begin to streamline the flood of numbing sensations that were flowing through his small body into words.

Another sigh escapes him, “Where to start?”

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

Next

Previous

Masterlist

[densi-mber]

The Squid and Dagger Returns

“To the second grand opening of The Squid and Dagger. May it be her last,” Deeks toasted, raising his glass above his head. Kensi stood next to him, and surrounding him in a semi-circle were their former team. Eric and Nell had even made the flight in to celebrate the occasion.

“Amen!” Nell called out, whistling loudly. Deeks grinned at her enthusiasm. They all drank, Sam pausing to sniff his first.

“Hey, that’s actually really good,” Eric commented in surprise. He took another drink, as if to double check.

Still looking mistrustful, Sam took a tiny sip, and nodded in reluctant approval. “It’s not bad.”

“Why on earth would the beer taste bad?” Kilbride wondered, looking bemused and slightly out of place in his three-piece suit.

“You’ve never heard the saga of Deeks and Callen’s microbrew ventures?” Rountree asked in surprise.

“No. And I’m beginning to think that’s a good thing.”

“It involved a series of increasingly terrible beer,” Nell explained. “Squid being a memorable one.”

“No, no the seaweed and salmon was definitely the worst,” Sam said firmly. “The flavor is ingrained in my brain.”

“Three years with this team, and I still fail to understand any of you,” Kilbride commented, downing the rest of his beer. “Which means I need something stronger.” He wandered off to the bar, muttering to himself.

“Nice to know some things don’t change,” Kensi said dryly.

The rest of them gravitated towards each other, forming a small group as they sipped at their drinks. Nell had somehow acquired a large red drink with a cocktail umbrella.

“You know, contrary to popular belief, Callen and I are capable of crafting normal beer—remembered the orange and nectarine?” Deeks said, nodding to Kensi. “We just choose not to.”

“I still maintain that none of our stuff was that bad,” Callen insisted. He frowned, holding up his glass, tilting his head to examine the light amber liquid inside. “Though this is kind of bland.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that, right?” Sam said in exasperation. He gave Callen a slight shove towards the bar. “C’mon G, let’s go get you some more skunky beer.”

“Mmm, it almost feels like we never left,” Nell said, watching the two fondly bicker.

“It does. Especially with having the bar back,” Deeks agreed. “Speaking of which, I can’t thank you guys enough for helping buy it back.”

“It means a lot to us,” Kensi added, sliding her free arm through Deeks’.

“You’re welcome, but guys, I told you before, I literally would not be where I am without the money that you loaned me for years. Especially Deeks,” Eric replied. “I probably owe you about 10 bars at this point.”

“I think we’ll call it even with one.” She glances at Deeks and he nodded in agreement.

“We’ve got everything we need.”

“Ooh, speaking of needs,” Nell paused to take a healthy gulp of her drink, her Christmas themed had shifting precariously. “When do I get to see my nieces and nephews?”

“Well, I’m guessing the sitter already put the twins down for the night, but we’re free tomorrow. And I’m sure Rosa would love to see you when she’s done with classes,” Kensi replied.

“Awesome! That’ll give us time to get all their gifts together.” Eric nodded enthusiastically. “It’s amazing what they’re doing with kids toys these days.”

“I’m not sure I want to know.”

“He’s teasing, Deeks.” Nell rolled her eyes at Eric, lightly tapping his shoulder with the back of her hand. She giggled, adding in a couple pats lower down on his chest.

Beside him, Kensi hastily stifled a snort, and when Deeks glanced at her, she had her lips tightly pressed together.

“Oh, I love this song,” Nell announced, as the playlist running in the background switched to the next selection. “Mr. Beale, may I have this dance?” Bending at the waist, Nell waved her hand in an elaborate flourish.

“My lady awaits,” Eric said with a shrug as he let Nell tug him away.

“I missed this,” Kensi said wistfully.

“What, Callen and Sam arguing over beer and the Wonder Twins drunkenly dancing on our non-existent dance floor?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too.”

Kensi swayed into his side, wrapping both arms around his waist. “I’m glad we have this back.”

He watched Nell and Eric put on a two-person act to “Santa Baby”, giggling the entire time, and couldn’t help but agree.

***

A/N: Once again bringing back the Squid and Dagger as well as Callen and Deeks making beer of dubious quality.

[silversiren1101]

33 for hellpair :)

Hello Bees!! Of course :3 You chose a fun one!

Questions here!

33 - What kind of presents do they get each other? Do they only do it on special occasions?

Minovae

As Mino travels a lot for her diplomatic work post-Crusade, she likes to get Regill local goods from the various places she goes that are things she knows he uses: paper-goods, quills, inks, sometimes a unique regional weapon as he keeps a vested interest in weaponry (especially if it's complicated or requires a lot of skill to master), medicines or potions, etc. Anything he might personally use or anything he wants to be aware of to better stock the Citadel and their knights or to better keep tabs on the capabilities of their potential allies or enemies. Some of it falls into 'luxury'/'pleasure' goods - like the inks and paper goods - while some is more business related. Regardless, she herself sees it as a gift to bring home from her travels!

She also brings him back coffee grounds or beans if they're available wherever she has to go, as coffee is his one singular vice. She herself loves to visit cafes and restaurants where she goes, and she's not shy about asking the owners if she can purchase some of their raw coffee product to bring back for him so they can 'share' over it, since he wasn't there to (and also doesn't really much enjoy going to such places - he does for her sake).

Lastly, she keeps an eye out on her travels for unique books suiting his interests: philosophical treatises, deconstructions of law and ethics, strategy and war manuals, etc. Especially if they're from beyond the Inner Sea Region, she'll make sure to grab it to bring home to him as he has an insatiable curiosity for such things. Reading how other cultures and nations formulate their own law and govern themselves is a personal interest of his - even if he actively disagrees with what he reads. He's also invested in how our cultures conduct war and what fighting techniques they've developed, whether to build his own repertoire or to devise countermeasures should he ever come to battle with another that wields them.

AND! ALMOST FORGOT!

Strategy games! Mino can only suffer playing so much chess with him! Any strategy game she finds they've never played before she will pick up without question to give them something new to do when they have a rare moment they can actually do such things, lol.

She's pretty much always looking out for things to get him that she knows he actively uses or appreciates.

Regill

Not a conscious gift-giver in the day-to-day really so much as he just seeks out or purchases things he knows she would like or needs or could use. He doesn't actively see it as a gift or nice thing to do so much as just... something he does. It's not a big or grand gesture, but a casual "here, use this" or "this should help with that problem you mentioned." Armor polish, replacement grips for her weapons, comfortable and practical travel gear or tools, etc.

The biggest gifts have been during the tail end of the Crusade right after she'd finished recovering from her soul shattering upon returning from the Abyss and Ssila'meshnik's "inheritance." Her armor had been ruined with no chance of repair, and he'd worked with Garms to secure the materials and artisans needed to forge her a new set... with some extra additions. Prohibitively expensive but with so many worries about her health going forward, knowing they were going up against actual Demon Lords for real from then on and she needed a shield to withstand them, he used all of his personal funds and called in every favor he could to secure her an orichalcum shield (it's roughly 100,000 GP in 1e terms -> 14K in 2e). Even still, pretty much everyone chipped in where they could to cover both that shield and her new adamantine full-plate once his plans were discovered; a shield made out of time-bending metal that would repair itself and 'undo' damage instantly? An easy purchase for their recovering Commander, exorbitant price or no (and Regill's pride or no, too).

Beyond all that, his usual gifts when he actually is giving a gift are for special occasions: their anniversary and her birthday and such. She likes dark liquors, which he'll order in a high-quality reserve bottle for them to share in private. Other gifts he might think of would be luxury brushes and grooming tools for her feathers and scales, high quality strings and wax and oil for her instruments, an extra warm and soft scarf and gloves for when winter comes or she has to travel some place cold :)

[typingtess]

Deeks and Rosa were sitting in a waiting room while Rosa's immigration lawyer was dealing with some paperwork snafu before her interview with her immigration case worker. Deeks was in a suit and tie, Rosa in a lovely blue Calvin Klein dress Kensi found on sale at Macy's. Kensi was at Camp Pendleton testifying in a trial. She was waiting for his text.

"I found your wedding album while I was helping Kensi cleaning her box called 'stuff'," Rosa told Deeks as they waited.

"Our anniversary is next week. It's good to know it survived the move two-years ago."

"That's why Kensi was cleaning up her 'stuff' boxes in the garage. Part of her anniversary gift to you."

"Part?" Deeks was really interested now. "Oh, tell me the other part. I can fake being surprised."

"Where's the fun in that? Just be surprised."

"Please." Deeks pled.

"No. I'm staying out of this."

"You're in. You know what Kensi is getting me, tell me and we're all even."

"To be even, you'd have to tell me what you're getting Kensi."

"Well, it's a surprise." And Rosa was a part of part of it. He booked a Mother's Day spa weekend at Two Bunch Palms in Palm Springs for Kensi and Rosa. He also got the annual Moshe call after Valentine's Day with a good price for some piece of jewelry that didn't move. This year it was dangly earrings with diamonds. "So if you won't share, you'll get nothing and like it."

"'Caddyshack'."

"See, you are catching up on all the good movies. Next Friday, I say we do 'Clueless'."

"I wouldn't mind watching 'Bend Like Beckham' again."

"Again? You have it on Hulu all the time."

"Because it's great."

"You'll like 'Clueless'. Kensi loves 'Clueless'."

"The way she loves '13 Going on 30'?" Rosa asked.

"Kensi doesn't love anything the way she loves '13 Going on 30'."

"That's not true, she loves you more than that movie," Rosa had a big smile. "She showed me all the pictures in the wedding album. Told me about what happened that day."

"It was a day."

"She looked beautiful. You looked handsome in your tuxedo. Mandy was so pregnant."

"The only weird thing that didn't happen in that wedding and reception was Mandy going into labor. She held that off for three more days."

"Why did your Mom wear black?"

"It was a much better dress than the purple one she originally bought. Deep v-neck, open back and the dress ended about halfway down her thigh. It was a lot."

"Julia looked beautiful."

"Yes she did. Not as beautiful as her daughter…"

"Did you know you'd always marry her?"

"No, we needed to work through some things but once we did, I knew she was my last girlfriend and my only wife."

"That's romantic in a very strange way."

"Please put that on my tombstone, 'He was romantic in a very strange way.'"

"Don't talk like that." Rosa looked at her hands for a second. "Do you think Gregory can fix the paperwork problems."

"I haven’t heard any yelling so Gregory is likely making progress." Deeks saw Gregory T. Coates III, immigration lawyer to the stars who does some pro-bono work for Los Angeles uniformed services members, military and those involved in education, making a bee-line to them.

"Those fu…..fools finally got the paperwork right," Gregory said as he sat next to Rosa. "Your interview will start in a few minutes. All the letters of recommendation are in, your school records are up to date, including your first round of SATs. You're in a very good place, Rosa. Go in, be yourself, be calm and remember, Kensi, Marty and I are all here to fight for you. You be you and you'll be great, kid."

"Thank you," Rosa smiled.

"You," he pointed to Deeks. "Keep your mouth shut. It's her show. You answer questions directly asked to you. Don't be cute, don't be funny, don't be…"

"Don't be me." Deeks was not offended.

"You can be you the minute this is over and you're taking me to dinner."

"Rosa Diaz," an assistant walked up to the three of them. "We're ready for you."

Deeks gave Rosa a peck on the cheek. "And you're ready for them." The three walked to the interview room with the assistant. Deeks didn't think he'd spend the Friday before his anniversary in an immigration office but there was no place else he'd rather be.

It’s a love s t o r y! - Densi Wedding

ncisla

[w4rningbutterflies]

i'm just trying to find my place in the world. you know, get a job, maybe do something meaningful with my life. - for suga, daichi

sometimes he wonders if asahi had the right thought when he had pulled away from volleyball before it had been too late; he had taken his losses & decided that they were enough, that it was time to shift gears & actually take the guidance counselors words to heart.  there hadn't been shame in it, even if daichi & him had cornered him & told him that he was a coward, that he had been running from something that was all of their burdens to bear.  there hadn't been shame in it because asahi had almost looked happy while he set up his future  ––  &  he hadn't had the aspect of volleyball weighing him down, the pressure of a team relying on an ace that could bend & break so easily.  they had always known that asahi was a sensitive soul  ––  it's what almost made it easier to bully him back into his role on the team. 

but being a sensitive soul isn't a bad thing.  sometimes koshi is one too; like how he had felt the sting of asahi's sudden absence, his rejection  ––  he had presumed that they were friends before they had been teammates, but that distance had proven him wrong.  it had made something in him crack underneath the pressure of it: especially when he had seen how good kageyama had been as he stepped into the role of setter.  they had a team that was promising beyond the two previous years that he had been in that position.  it had been a humbling lesson of learning a new role as co-captain & back up setter.  it had been a humbling moment of realizing that perhaps there was more than volleyball, that asahi hadn't been wrong when he had begun to get his ducks in a row.

sometimes now he realizes how restless he is, how he feels like there's no direction.  of course he's enrolled to begin classes in teaching, but something about it feels disjointed.  it's a good fit for him because he knows how to teach well; he knows how to take those underneath his wing & give them the gentle guidance they'll need. after all, he's been teaching for years now  ––  taking kageyama under his wing, taking hinata under his wing.  being co-captain isn't a bad thing.  it's taught him what it'll take to teach actively.

there are times like now though, when he watches the traffic in the local park & stretches his legs out into the pavement path where runners keep glaring at him for doing so, where he wonders if this is the wrong move.  if he shouldn't have tried harder to take the starter position from kageyama; if he should've pursued something akin to professional leagues, even if he had been a back up. 

because he did love volleyball.  it wouldn't have meant so much to him when they lost if he hadn't felt so much for it.  but he had walked out with a graduation on his back & hadn't known what to do about that fact.  his passion wasn't anything like hinata's  ––  could he keep competing, knowing he'd be a back up & easily replaced at any moment, & be content with that?

tongue presses against his cheek as he looks over at daichi.  there's a quiet longing that sparks up like it always does; he misses volleyball for the fact that they spent more time together, that they pulled themselves in close & spent nights strategizing new plays.  he misses going over tapes & having an excuse to lean in close, to settle in between the zone where he can infiltrate his space easily. he misses going to his siblings birthday parties & trying to pick out the right gift for their ever changing interests. it feels sometimes like there's a rift between them, like suga can't get past the barrier.

it's logical that daichi is busy, especially with the academy starting soon.  he has a hard time picturing him as a police officer, & yet somehow it suits him perfectly at the same time.  he remembers every single time asahi had tried to run because of daichi turning his quiet anger on him.  on second thought, he'll make a perfect officer. 

suga leans his head back & turns his gaze toward the sky, heel lightly bouncing against the pavement.  " yeah, i know what you mean.  you're going to do great at the academy, you have the discipline for it. "

and he does  ––  daichi has this habit of succeeded no matter what he does.  some days it's infuriating when suga feels like he can't even put his pants on right.  but daichi will succeed, will make the world a better place & will change lives  ––  he's seen it happen for years now, as he matured into the captain that gladly took up the role when it was presented. 

head lulls to the side & he takes in the profile before him; the slope of daichi's nose, the sharpness of his jaw, the way his fringe has grown out slightly & will probably soon be a buzz cut for academy standards.  he finds himself mourning his friend already even when he's not going anywhere.

sometimes suga gets too far in his own head.  sometimes he waxes poetic about things that are still right in front of him. 

" you're going to do great, you know.  you're going to change so many lives by just being you.  imagine how many asahi's you're going to scare straight. "  a rogue smile settles on his lips but it doesn't match his eyes  ––  sometimes he thinks that nothing has reached his eyes as of late.  sometimes he wonders if anything will.

he just thinks he's on a bad down spiral from the loss, from overanalyzing things that are no longer his to change.  teeth drag into his bottom lip once more before he exhales through his nose.  " sometimes wish i tried harder for setter though.  could've been something, maybe. "

we could've been something, he thinks, but he lets it fall flat between them.  he's never known how to reach daichi in that aspect, either.

[ckret2]

#divided over if hed be sooo pathetic about (mostly romantic) relationships like he has so idea what hes doing #or if hed literally bend reality to makw his partner be right All The Time and stuff like that #both have their reasoning in my head and both are so so so funny #like if you manage to get him to like you. oh boy . ohohooh #he would not be able to be normal at it all

I feel like he'd be both at the same time.

Like, it's EASY to do big, grand gestures: all you need is resources/power. Buy them chocolates, buy them flowers, make a reservation for a fancy dinner, make some calls to get them a promotion and a raise, buy a car, buy a house... or, if you're a powerful energy being: kill half their enemies, drive the other half insane, give them the moon, the stars, a whole galaxy, alter reality to conform to their whims.

We see that when he wants to impress somebody, for completely platonic reasons, he buries them in gifts and flattery. "Deer teeth, for you kid!" "I must say I'm impressed! You deserve a prize!" "The point is, I like you." "Care for a game of interdimensional chess? Have a cup of tea." "He told me [...] he chose one brilliant mind a century to inspire. What a fool I was. Blinded by his flattery and games." He invites Ford into a penthouse suite, serenades him on piano, and offers him a drink—all while Ford is his prisoner, just to get info out of him.

If he were committed to wooing a lover, would he be any less grandiose?

But, again: all of this is easy for him. All of this, all of it, he can do with a flick of a wrist and a snap of his fingers. Words and things that might mean so much to the recipient are effortless and worthless to him.

Would he give a partner emotional labor, though? Real vulnerability? Honesty, openness, sincerity, respect?

If his lover-of-the-month came home crying because their parents don't understand them and don't respect their life choices, he might gallantly, heroically rush off to incinerate their parents—or, if he's feeling merciful, maybe just reach into their brains and forcefully rearrange their personality to unquestioningly support anything his lover does. He probably wouldn't even ask first before doing it. Isn't he so thoughtful. He knows just what his beloved needs.

But he wouldn't sit and hold them while they cry.

Ask him to perform bare-minimum acts of caring and emotional support, and he immediately gets awkward, gets self-conscious, and starts floundering; and from there, he gets bored, and he retreats into sullen refusal. He doesn't want to. He shouldn't have to. Stop being so high maintenance.

If he wants to woo someone who isn't moved by presents, he gets pathetic. If he's with somebody who asks for something more emotionally substantial than presents, he gets pathetic. He's never learned how to be sincere in a relationship. He's never even tried. Gifts are easy, support is hard, and he doesn't want to work hard. He's fundamentally emotionally lazy.

The kinds of partners he'd attract are the ones dazzled by gifts and flattery enough not to notice the red flags, and the kinds he'd keep are the ones messed up enough to go "actually, incinerating my parents is the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I can't believe I found someone who's crazy enough about me to do such a thing. I'm the luckiest person in the multiverse." But it can't last long. Bill responds to all his problems by burning them up.

I like the idea of Bill Cipher having a love life specifically because I think he'd handle it like