#his hair with the Dutch braids in is already so long

[aki-machika]

oki everyone this is spoke; he’s from a Netflix series called Tokyo Override and he’s my husband :3

[eremikayearner]

cherry haired princess ‹𝟹 chigiri hyoma

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ in which you style chigiri hyoma’s cherry hair however and whenever you please.

₊˚⊹♡ the perks of having a long haired boyfriend, such as chigiri hyoma, was that you were allowed to style his hair however you pleased.

now, typically chigiri would have been picky about his precious hair being tampered with and touched by fingers that weren’t his. however, he trusted you entirely with his hair. he wouldn’t ever admit it, but he loved your fingers in his hair - and the way you styled it too!

before a match and before a practice, you entered the locker room full of his teammates, ignoring their lingering stares on you and drifting towards your smiling boyfriend. you would delicately braid his hair back for him to the side as he liked it, as he filled you in on the drills of the game, occasionally sighing and leaning into you when your manicured nails grazed his scalp so wonderfully - of course none of this went unnoticed by you (or his teammates).

of course, you also styled his hair before an important event. the two of you would be in the mirror as he buttoned up his shirt, an obvious flush in his cheeks and that gorgeous smile you fell for time and time again, as your fingers raked past his scalp and gathered the top half of his silky hair, his bangs slipping through your fingers. you’d whisper a ‘you look so pretty, hyoma’ in his ear with your sweet coy smile that drove him mad. he could only blush, his heart beat ever fast and his smile ever dazzling as you secured his hair into a half up - half down hairstyle. he’d turn to face you, his lovely eyes capturing yours as his large hands found your hips and pulled you closer to him, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. he’d whisper back, your princess charming, a ‘not as pretty as you.’

yes, you styled his hair when he was sick. he’d be sniffling as he sat up in bed, whining about how he was too tired, but oh, once your fingers tangled into his hair, he’d be sighing and humming and leaning into your touch. the drama princess himself melted at your touch, in sickness and in health. your fingers would gently braid his hair back from his face, one braid or two, french, dutch or fishtail - it didn’t matter. he’d sit compliantly in his silk pajamas as you braided his hair out of his face for him, his eyes fluttering shut and his breathing beginning to slow, his body beginning to lean back into you as you lulled him into sleep with your magical fingers.

and obviously, you styled his hair whenever you pleased. sitting in your bed, your glossed lips would curve up into a mischievous smile as you looked at him, and that was all it took for him to understand your train of thought. whatever ridiculous hairstyle you had imagined would not be going on his head. yet no matter how much he protested, all it took was just one ‘oh, hyoma, please!’ from your pretty lips, and he had already melted. your excited giggles would fill the room as you got up on your knees, making him roll his eyes but not without a secret smile. you styled his hair into pretty space buns with a pretty braid wrapped around it and dangling freely. you braided his hair into a gorgeous crown around his head. you styled his hair into pigtails with bows made of his own silky locks. you wrapped pink ribbons on his hair and into his hair. he really was your cherry haired princess.

in the end, it didn’t matter how you styled his hair. it always ended up falling around his shoulders with your fingers tangled in it.

[shurisasthmaticgf]

wait a damn minute: max verstappen x black fem! reader

summary: in the midst of the biggest worldwide IT outage you realize your name has come up at the worst time possible

author's note: i wrote this on friday when the entire thing happened, i thought i posted it but turns out it was camped out in my drafts still. this is my first max fic so i hope it's an enjoyable read! feedback and comments are always appreciated and highly encouraged, i like to know what you all think of my work!

warnings: google translated dutch

the hungarian grand prix was only days away and you couldn't wait to surprise your boyfriend with a visit. it killed you to miss his races but you'd recently been promoted to a new position in your company which required more days in office than remote. you'd managed to balance work and personal life pretty well but when you weren't missing due to your new job, you had something else happen last minute. finally, after weeks of working long hours on end in an office, you were in the clear to start remote working more frequently.

you managed to clock out of work right on time so the minute the clock hit 6:00 pm, you were logging out and grabbing your already packed bag. one of your coworkers passed by you in the elevator, he was the only one around your age in the entire department so immediately you both clicked. he lightly bumped you with his shoulder and commented, "three side profiles and a headshot or selfie." you furrowed your brows in confusion and he clarified, "photo requests for my husband of course." the two of you burst into laughter as you teased, "was the autographed photocard not enough for you, théo? i even decorated it and put it in a holder for your desk." the young man smiled fondly thinking of the small 3x4 inch card that sat on the corner of his main monitor. he brushed one of his locs from his face and dramatically sighed, "fine i won't be pushy...i only want the selfie." you shook your head and refused with a chuckle, "i'm not asking toto wolff for a selfie, théo." your coworker let out a fake sigh of disappointment and lightly pushed you in the other direction as you parted ways to your cars. you laughed and called out, "i'll see what i can do, no promises though!" his face lit up and he blew your air kisses before calling out a goodnight.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

just thinking about seeing your boyfriend racing again brought butterflies to your stomach. although he was doing well this season a few problems had cost him a few wins here and there. fans had jokingly mentioned that you not being at races was the cause of the missed first place wins because coincidentally, every race you've ever attended, max has won exactly that. for weeks fans have asked about your whereabouts and you'd practically ghosted them simply because you were working so much. you were known as one of the more down to earth f1 WAGs who had no problem interacting with fans in person and over social media. so you suddenly not showing up for max and not interacting with people online made them wonder what was going on with you during the past few weeks. now that work had chilled out, you were happy to be back online again, and even happier to be able to make it out to hungary this weekend.

the moment you stepped into your apartment you made a beeline for your bedroom to change out of your professional clothes. you snatched a pair of scissors, a spray bottle, conditioner, a towel, a comb, and a crumpled up paper bag and cozied up on the couch with shrek queued on the tv. you sprayed your head with the warm water in the bottle and spread a glob of conditioner all over the roots of your hair. you pulled one of your braids forward and snipped the end before unraveling it and picking out whatever knots formed in the 6 weeks your hair had been tucked away. thankfully this time it didn’t take too long to get your braids out, only 3 hours compared to the usual 5 when you didn’t have your boyfriend’s help.

right as the last strands of synthetic hair slipped out of your own curls, your phone rang the familiar tune and a picture of your boyfriend flashed on your screen. a warm smile spread across your face as his camera turned on to show face. you braided you hair on each side to get it out of your face as you spoke, “hi my love how was your day?” he rolled over to his side and grumbled sleepily, “long, usual press day so you know how that goes.” you frowned slightly, “i wish i was there with you today.” max hummed and admitted, “i do as well. but your work is more important so i can deal with this.” you watched as his eyes lingered on your face and you giggled while moving out of the frame shyly, “stop looking at me like that.” although it was dimly lit in hotel room you could see the light pink tint to his cheeks as he smiled, “i can’t admire my lovely girlfriend?” he yawned mid sentence and you insisted, “as much as i love talking to you i know you’re tired and you need to go to sleep. so i’ll talk to you tomorrow, yeah?” he sleepily agreed and murmured, “welterusten mijn liefste.” you blew him a kiss and whispered softly, "goodnight baby." [goodnight, my love]

instead of heading straight to sleep you chose to wash your hair rather than waiting until the morning to do so. the flight you managed to snag last minute to hungary was set for tomorrow evening and you hadn't packed anything. not wanting to get onto a plane with a damp head of coils, you decided to just deal with it tonight. the entire process didn't take as long since you were speeding through just so you could sleep. by the time you were done it was around 2 AM and you were more than happy with the results. a dozen thick twists hung past your shoulders until you wrapped them up into a scarf and covered them with your bonnet to head to bed.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

when you woke up in the morning you noticed your phone had over 50 missed calls, messages, and emails. your mind conjured up the worst possible thoughts as you called your boyfriend to see what was the matter. max answered on the first few rings and you anxiously stammered, "baby? maxie? what's going on are you okay? where are you?" on the other line max answered clearly confused on what you were talking about, "schat? i am fine, i'm heading to the track. nothing is wrong here, what are you talking about?" you started to calm down realizing that he was fine but you responded, "i thought- didn't you blow up my phone early this morning? i was worried something happened and-" your boyfriend interjected with a calm tone, "y/n, i promise you nothing is the matter-"

an incoming call from théo, your coworker cut max off and you spoke up, "i'm sorry i think it's work related because théo is calling me." max let out an annoyed sound and you laughed, "i don't get why you don't like him." max scoffed, "he is too touchy and handsy with you." there was a playful groan, "oh god here you go- max, we've been over this. théo is a 27 year old gay man from san francisco who's convinced he's princess diana's reincarnate. he's the least of your worries okay?" max conceded, "okay fine i guess...but i still have my eye on him." another call from théo interrupted your conversation and you added, "but he's blowing up my phone so i need to see what's wrong. i'll talk to you later okay?" max agreed and bid you goodbye before hanging up the phone.

meanwhile you answered théo's call and he was literally running through what looked like the parking garage of his high rise. he panted, "you- you nee-...oh god i'm out of shape- you need to get up right now.. i'll be there to pick you up in fifteen minutes so be ready downstairs." you looked around confused and your coworker/ friend explained, "there's some massive outage or something happening. i know we had off today but they're calling the entire office in to see if we can figure it out." you were already climbing out of bed and you pressed for more information, "what do you mean an outage?" théo shrugged and wiped sweat from his brow as he tried to make himself look less winded, "i dunno i was thinking a breach or something? whatever it is we'll find out but we gotta go right now babes." you hurriedly grabbed an outfit from your closet and started to get dressed and ready to go, keeping him on the line.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

when you finally managed to get to his car, théo pointed to your phone and told you, "check twitter too, the fans are making jokes that you did something to the platform." despite having no idea what the hell he was talking about you opened twitter to see the flood of tweets under your name on the trending topics list. a pit formed in your stomach and you nearly fainted when you realized what he was talking about. you were completely new to this job and panic coursed through your veins on the thought of losing everything you worked hard for. the look of panic drew a laugh from your best friend and coworker as he jested, "they're funny aren't they?!" you shook your head and nearly shouted, "no it's not i'm gonna get fired!" théo waved off your concern, "girl the issue is definitely not from you and nobody thinks so. besides, dante from marketing and eleni from HR were sending the funny ones to our group chat...not that this isn't serious but just to make light of a shitty situation you know?" you shifted in your seat unsure how to feel and he promised, "i guarantee it's fine."

when you actually got to work with théo you were pulled into a meeting where you all were briefed about the situation. they clarified that they knew it was an issue with an update that was sent out early in the morning. after the meeting your boss told you that he knew you weren't supposed to be working today but you did need to stay and potentially over the weekend as well to help your team mitigate the issue as much as you all could. despite it being a global issue and not directly an issue from the monaco office, you knew that he meant he needed you there to help deploy the solution when it came through. he let you have a fifteen minute break to rearrange your travel plans and make the cancellations you needed before having you start work.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

the work day ended later than usual, the later hours were spent at your home office while you were on meetings with other people on your team. luckily you were able to catch up with the results of max's first and second practice sessions through peeking at live updates while you worked. when you got the okay to clock out, you nearly fell asleep on your desk but waking back up when your boyfriend's ringtone jump scared you.

you kept your head on the desk as you opened the video call, "hey you." max's features softened when he noticed the look of exhaustion on your face, "it was that bad huh?" you gave a silent thumbs up and sighed, "i wish it didn't happen...i was so excited to come surprise you and finally be there to see you again. i'm sorry i can't make it work." max rushed to your defense, "er zijn nog genoeg andere races over in het seizoen, je kunt in plaats daarvan naar die races komen kijken." you let out an annoyed groan, "i know but i wanted to be there this time. now you'll have bad luck." max chuckled at the mention of the running joke of you being his lucky charm, "it's alright. don't worry your pretty little head about me. now come on let's go to sleep, i know you're tired." you shuffled your feet against your bedroom floor as you took your phone with you to get ready for the night. [there are plenty of other races left in the season, you can come and watch those races instead.]

as you lay in bed with your lights off max asked, "did you see they asked me about you today?" you hummed a soft, "nuh uh." he smiled at the memory and explained, "i was in an interview and they mentioned that your name was trending on twitter and asked if i saw it. i only saw that your name was trending but i didn't see what for so they told me fans made jokes that you crashed the mercedes, mclaren, and williams servers so that i could win this weekend." a sleepy smile crossed your lips and you asked, "what'd you say?" he turned over in his bed and answered, "i told them it wasn't you because you don't make mistakes in your work. you're too good at what you do. also that you aren't the one that sends out the updates so people don't need to use your name in a bad light." you grinned wider already knowing what he was going to say, "and how did that go over?" max let out an sigh and small chuckle, "the guys have been making fun of me all night for it." you let out the loudest laugh max has heard from you in weeks making him somewhat more fine with getting teased by his friends.

your laughter subsided and you told him, "tell me about something interesting." max thought for a moment then started rambling on about the geologic history of the netherlands, watching as your eyes started to droop with the passing minutes. falling asleep with your boyfriend still on the phone became a habit especially in the early days of you dating. but now you were spending more time with him that occurrences like this just started happening once more, leaving you missing his presence at night. as for now, this was the best you could get.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

the end.

[midnightorchids]

More soft Jason ideas since you deserve it and your wonderful and supper cool Girldad!Jason BRRROOOOOOO Oh my goddddddd ok like- - Jason is the kind of dad who always has music playing in the house, he mindlessly sways and hums along as he makes morning (or night-time) pancakes for you and his little girl. She'll come running up to him, her thick black hair tangled over her face, and pull on his pant leg. He'll sweep her up into his arms, her small head fitting perfectly against his chest as she watches him make breakfast, still somewhat asleep and aloof. He'll start bopping along to the music with her little hands around his neck, filling up the kitchen with shrieks of laughter and he peppers her soft cheeks with kisses. - I feel like you and him would like in a beach house, somewhere away from the city and his old job as Red Hood. Your daughter would bring home buckets of pretty rocks and sea glass that Jason keeps in jars along the living room windowsills. He has to dump some back onto the shore every time he sees her washing the new rocks and shells on the front porch. - After long summer days of playing and wrestling in the waves, you would all curl up for a post-beach nap. Smelling like salt with the prick of the sun settling into your tired bones. Your daughter would fit perfectly between you two. Jasons hand behind his head with his other wrapped firmly around you and his little girl. - Get's his daughter obsessed with reading just as much as he is. Would build her book-shelf after book-self as her collection of story-books and middle grade fairy books expands. - Helps his daughter roast marsh mellows during the beach bonfires you guys have when Roy and his daughter visit. Your daughter and Lian are best friends- playdates once a week kind of thing. - When she's little, he'll always have his daughter on his knee during big family dinners. He let's her eat anything off of his plate, keeping his arm around her as he talks with Dick. - Overall, just- every-time he falls asleep next to you he feels like crying into your shoulder, unable to thank you enough for bringing such a precious perfect bundle of laughter into his life. Huge 'my wife showed me how to love and my daughter showed me how to forgive energy lmao.

I want night time pancakes with Jason and my little baby girl wtf!!! Also, thank you so much for sending this in. I love it and I literally fail to understand how you pull up with the most amazing scenarios every time, I’m actually in love with your writing!! You’re amazing! Anyways lol!! I’m gonna be honest, I don’t want to have biological children but for Jason… I’d do it, no hesitation. He’d be the most amazing girl dad, I love him so so so much.

I’m not sure if people have already said this before but can you imagine him learning how to do your daughter’s hair!! He has a YouTube hair tutorial playing on the TV as your daughter sits in between his legs. He’s got bobby pins in between his teeth and hair ties around his wrist. He’s using a small comb to gently brush through her little curls.

He’s learning how to braid her hair and he’s having some difficulty, but he’s a persistent man, and like he always tells his little girl, practice makes perfect! He will sit there for days, hours upon hours, trying to make the most flawless set of Dutch braids. Once he’s succeeded at his craft, he’ll admire his work and will tell his daughter to go show you his skills. And oh my goodness, how adorable does she look showing off her father’s braiding skills!!

I also saw a quote on Instagram earlier today and it said that “tenderness is in the hands” and I immediately thought of Jason. There is no one with gentler hands than Jason. His fingers may be rough and his knuckles might be permanently bruised from his past, but when he interlocks his hands with his baby girl, they are the most delicate and warmest hands she has ever felt.

He will run his fingers through her hair, as she lays her tiny head against his chest and he’ll read her favourite stories. She’ll take his hands out of her hair and just play with his fingers. Trace little shapes on his palm, measure her small hand against his big, calloused ones. It’ll melt Jason’s heart and he’ll feel like crying. There will be days where he needs to stop reading and take a minute to appreciate the tenderness of the moment, without completely crumbling.

Also, I kind of hate to say it, but it’s so true. Jason would totally try to heal his daddy issues by being the best possible parent.

He’d treat his daughter like an actual princess and not just in terms of materialistic things. He’d be there for her in every circumstance; he’d be the best moral support and the best cheerleader anyone could ask for.

If your daughter plays any sports or plays an instrument, any thing really, he’d always be there to encourage her and comfort her when it started to become tough. He’d attended every game, every practice, every performance. Like I said, the best cheerleader.

Basically long story short, I’d die for soft, girl dad Jason.

[kiestrokes]

Day 8: Han Jisung | SFW-ish

▸Idol: Han Jisung of SKZ ▸Rating: SFW-ish. Minors DNI. ▸Genre: untitled WIP, slice of life, sexual tension is displayed. ▸Vibe: childhood neigbhors/best friends Han Jisung x Reader, Doh Kyungsoo is Jisung's older brother in this AU, reader has dated neither and both are vying for their attention. ▸Warnings: I use gender neutral terms for the reader, if that bothers you then please do NOT read, probably cursing, Ghibli movie in case any of you hate those, Lee Youngji (readers roommate) is nursing a hangover so prior drinking alluded to.

Sexually Explicit Content: skimpy pajamas, sexual tension.

🗝️ Note: just a reminder this is a WIP, it is not close to the finished product this is the first draft of this scene!

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

「 25 Hours: Hard, Soft and WIP-mas Masterlist 」

You're spending so much time with Kyungsoo it makes Hanji seek you out more. Foregoing his playboy escapades in a fight for one-on-one time with you.

It’s been a lazy weekend with Youngji sleeping off a hangover on the couch in the living room. Which means you and Jisung have watch the Sunday morning anime of choice in your bed.

You’re in a skimpy sleep set and thick socks you’d dug out of the back of your closet, because the vast majority your laundry is still tumbling away in the washer and dryer. This week having been too busy to get your chores done on their assigned days.

Jisung’s eyes had bugged out behind his oversized wire frame glasses when you answered the door, complete with your hair in a fraying set of Dutch braids.

“You should put clothes on!” He gasps ushering you into your apartment before slamming and locking the door.

“Not so loud fuckboy,” Youngji groans throwing a pillow at him from her deathbed in the living room.

“I have clothes on Jisung.”

You roll your eyes at him, grabbing the bowl of popcorn from the count and sauntering off to your room. Not bothering to see if Jisung had closed his mouth and started to follow you.

“Barely,” he huffs trailing behind you after hurriedly toeing off his sneakers, bag of snacks rustling on his arm.

"Can't we watch it in the living room?"

You have already climbed onto the far side of the bed, tossing the blankets over your bare legs. Looking at him crossly in the gray morning light that is filtering through the windows, unable to decipher whatever it is he's struggling with today.

"No, Youngji had a long night. I do not want to disturb her. Get in the fucking bed Jisung, you're being weird."

He grumbles to himself before climbing in next to you. Quietly passing you the drink he had picked up before snatching the remote from your grasp as you lean over to set the bottle on the side table.

"Fine but I am picking the movie."

"Whatever."

You settle back against the pillows, nestling the bowl of popcorn in the center of your pelvis. Princess of Mononoke rolls onto the screen and Jisung's body stretches out beside yours. Thigh to thigh. Hip to hip. You lean into his familiar figure subconsciously.

You're not even twenty minutes into the movie and he hasn't stopping tussling around. Hand closest to you tucked under the covers, fingers tapping your bare thigh.

Distracting you so much that you cannot focus on the lovely shades of green, in every blade of grass that Ashitaka is riding through.

"Jisung-" you pierce his side profile with an inquistive gaze.

He squeezes your thigh before bolting upright and scrubbing both hands down his face. Theres a long pause and you're worry annoyance grows into worry.

You stroke a hand down his back, and he lets out a shuddering breath.

Jisung doesn't look at you, mumbling the next words into his palms, "can I be honest?"

You sit up, placing the bowl of popcorn on your nightstand to wrap both arms around your best friends shoulders.

"Always, what's wrong?"

“I’m just a little pent up.”

“Oh...is that all?” You laugh squeezing him tighter.

Jisung finally turns his head to look back at you, “and you look really fucking good right now.”

© COPYRIGHT 2021 - 2024 by kiestrokes  All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced without written permission from the author. This includes translations.

[grainscharacter]

read on ao3

There are a few things that Grian has been… too preoccupied to think about, with all of his worries about making the desert defendable, but not hazardous (because surely either he or Scar will forget about any traps he sets, and trigger them, and he is only green, technically).

His to-do list is long enough that, if he were to put it to paper, it would probably fill up a whole book. So it’s understandable that something has to fall to the wayside.

It’s not bad—really, it’s not!—it’s just slightly annoying, when he’s building and his hair falls into his face, or when he’s making his way through a forest and it gets caught in a stray branch, but it’s nothing terribly inconvenient.

It’s just—in the desert, he hasn’t really have the time to cut it, and now it’s getting long enough to be truly dangerous if he were to get in a fight, and he never learned to style long hair.

He can put it up in a messy ponytail, but it always comes out quicker than he’d prefer. So. What’s even the point?

He’s weighing the merits of chopping it all off, dagger in hand, when Scar comes into the fortress and gasps.

“Grian!”

He pauses.

“Don’t cut off your hair, Grian! It’s just too pretty, and I never get to see your hair all grown out and long like this!”

Grian lowers the dagger away from his hair, but doesn’t put it down, “It’s too long. There’s no point in keeping it if it's just going to get in my way.”

“It won’t get in your way! And, really,” and here Scar puts his merchant voice on,“if you think about it, all cutting it is gonna achieve is make it awkward in a week or so when it’s too long to do anything with.”

Grian tilts his head and shrugs. He already can’t do anything with it; he doesn’t know how to. He likes the feel of his hair long like this, but it really, really is not worth it. “I guess.”

“Oh!” Scar says, “I get it! You don’t want to do your hair! Well don’t you worry, Mr G-Man, I have got that 100% covered! Scar’s hair services, coming right up!”

“I—Scar, no!”

“What?” and now he sounds sad.

“I just. I don’t know how, Scar. It’s not worth it.”

“Awh, come on, I’ll do it for you!” and then, as if worried Grian won’t let him, Scar says, “I’ll even teach you! Easy and simple!”

“Alright, alright,” Grian relents.

Scar beams, and gestures for him to go sit on the bed. Grian goes, and sits with his back to scar as he bustles around looking for… something, Grian’s sure.

He feels Scar’s presence behind him right before he speaks, “Well, G, we’ve gotta start with brushing all of your tangles out, which, mister, I’ve only seen you do a few times. Really, it’s easier if you do it more often.”

Grian hums as Scar drags the brush lightly through his hair. It pulls some, and is a little painful, but Scar seems to be doing something to make it hurt less than when Grian does it, so it’s not even unpleasant.

They sit in a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of the brush, before Grian fees Scar’s hands in his hair again.

“Okay. We’re not going to do anything fancy here—you need to be able to do it by yourself, and you haven’t ever braided your hair before—which is a shame, because you would look uh-mayyyy-zing with those wonderful elven braids I used to have.”

Grian can feel him… parting? his hair. He thinks that’s correct. He does know the basics of how a braid works, at least.

“Okay. We’re gonna take three even strands of hair—just separate it all out, for the simplest braid—and layer them over each other. You’ve done this before, for rope. It’s just like that, only you do it more by feel than sight.”

Grian hums again.

“Here, you try.”

He reaches back and finds the strands of hair, then tries to clumsily weave them together. He doesn’t do well, but he’s not doing terribly, so there’s that.

“Yeah! Like that!” Scar says, and then, “But I wanna do a Dutch braid, which is a tiny bit more complicated, on you today. That way you can probably leave it in for a few days, if you’re careful with it.”

Well, okay. That’s fine. Scar’s hands in his hair have a calming effect, so Grian doesn’t even feel a little bit bad about nodding and settling back into the bed with his hands in front of him.

Scar keeps up a gentle narration as he unbraids the part of Grian’s hair they had braided together, and then as he separates Grian’s hair out again. Grian’s not listening at all, and, as Scar establishes a rhythm, he can’t keep his eyes from slipping shut, for a moment.

It’s nice. Scar’s hands in his hair are gentle and warm, and he’s pulling at it softly, at a steady rhythm, and gradually, Grian finds he isn’t at all worried about his long to-do list, or about thinking up any fun traps.

Scar’s voice gradually gets quieter as he goes on, but he never stops talking entirely. Not until, an indeterminate amount of time later, he ties a ribbon at the end of the braid he’s made and tells Grian he’s done.

Grian hums back sleepily, but he doesn’t make any move to get up. He does the opposite; now that his head doesn’t need to be accessible he can slump back against Scar’s chest, which makes Scar laugh.

“Yeah?” He says.

“Yeah,” Grian says back, and doesn’t feel even a little bit stressed as Scar gently moves his head to the side to settle into the bed himself and runs his fingers over the braid he just made.

“It suits you.”

“Mm?”

“Long hair. The braid. It suits you.”

“Oh,” Grian says, sleepily, and then turns over with his head in Scar’s lap, “Of course it does. You made it.”

[lovinglokilaufeyson]

Love is a Dagger: II

Pairings: Loki x Fem!Reader/Dagger

Warnings: Angst. Fluff. Smuttish/Suggestive (on Loki’s part, Dagger’s not there yet). Depictions of Fighting. More Steve x Reader (in the form of comfort, not romance). Loki Pining. Jealous!Loki. Slow-Burn.

Wordcount: 1,929

Summary: The first practice with Thor and Loki ensues, much to your dismay. You soon realize that you and Loki as a team are more powerful than you thought possible: however, it leads to the injury of one of the Avengers. 

A/N: I knowwww there has not been Loki x Reader as much. Try to remember, this is a slow-burn and Dagger is still mourning! It pains me too! If you need to read the previous chapter, please do so here: Chapter I.

Waking up in the morning, you were dreading your practice with Loki and Thor. You had barely slept from the anxiety, even with going to bed early. You decided to start getting ready for your day, which included showering, and doing your skincare and hair. You opted out of makeup for the time being, given the soon sweaty environment. You crafted a long, dutch braid along the center of your head, which would commonly hold up in the practice room and in battle. You dressed in a sleek, tight jumpsuit that would promote easy movement, along with some boots. 

You waltzed down the hallway, then followed closely by Loki, who jogged to catch up with you. Oddly enough, it wasn’t exactly to force you into conversation. It was more so in order to relieve himself of the sight of your taut asscheeks and hips swinging from side to side. He had already relieved his morning wood earlier, and he didn’t want to evoke any of his carnal desires before training, especially around you.

Once beside you, Loki greeted you with a soft smile. “Good morning, darling. Ready to spar?” he teased. “Oh boy, am I ever. I’ll let you know, I’m a little rusty.” You mentioned, trying your best to remain positive. “Well, as long as you look like that, darling, I don’t think you’ll have any problems.” He winked. Your breath hitched, and your heart fluttered. 

But what about Cloak? 

Thankfully, Captain Rogers was near, waiting to greet you at the training room door. He was dressed in his training armor, which was drastically similar to his armor out on the field. “Good morning, Y/N, Loki. Tony and I will be overseeing the practice today, just to make sure everything goes well.” Oh thank god. You thought. Steve sent a smile your way, which was easily returned from you. It was hard not to. Loki’s stomach began bubbling in anger, but he was quickly able to force it to subside. Mine.

No no, stop Loki. She’s not yours. She’s in mourning. Don’t force her into anything. 

“Looking forward to it, Captain.” Something in the way you addressed Rogers sent Loki’s emotions spiraling again. No no no. 

You all entered the training room, where Thor and Tony were waiting. “Alright kids. It’s party time.” Tony announced. “Given that we know absolutely nothing of the nature of…” Tony gestured to yourself and Loki “you two. Cap and I will be spectating safely from the encased balcony above, but will intervene only if necessary. Okay?” 

“Okay.” You, Thor, and Loki all answered at once. 

“To start, we’re going to have Loki and Y/N team up, to see what the extent of this connection entails.” Tony continued. 

Connection. You didn’t exactly know how to feel about that word. Whatever you and Loki “had” was definitely… different. You still didn’t know how to feel in regard to it. But you had a feeling that your feelings would be clarified after practice today, at least a little bit. You would both finally have some answers. 

Loki caught your eyes, giving you a curt nod and a slight smile. You nodded back, suppressing your own smile. Trying your best to, at least. Loki caught on, and smiled to himself. He did want to impress you with his powers, but he also knew that his brother was powerful. Typically, Thor was the more well-known god, due to his flaunting about with his hammer, his lightning, and of course, the thunder. Loki had his… mischief. The magic could definitely come in handy, especially with creation of his duplicates. He also wondered if your powers would enhance his. Or his, yours? 

“Just, wait until Tony and I are out of the way, we know you’re all very powerful.” Cap spoke, sending a wink your way. He and Tony started up the stairs, while yourself, Loki and Thor all stood waiting. Thor was wielding Mjolnir, who you had yet to see the full effect of. Loki, in the midst, had tripled himself. One remained in Loki’s original place, one behind Thor (which Thor had yet to notice) and one behind yourself, which you definitely did notice. You nearly jumped, which caused your blades to press through the skin between your fingers, which you immediately noticed.

Your daggers tended to appear during dangerous situations, and given the light scare that Loki had given you. Loki’s attention was focused solely on you, as well as the adorable little jump you displayed after seeing himself behind you. He was jealous that it wasn’t him, and wished he had swapped places with that duplicate. 

You were quite the precious mortal, weren’t you? 

“Feel free to begin!” Tony shouted, and in a flash of a moment, Thor launched Mjolnir at you, which you quickly ducked from, followed by the Loki behind you. Though, it would have just gone right through him anyways. Right? 

As the hammer boomeranged back to Thor, you shot a dagger at him, which he also dodged. You began to approach Thor, with the intent to utilize your daggers close range. Loki followed close behind, with his own daggers wielded. 

Instead of this, however, Thor utilized Mjolnir to hurdle Loki backward. 

No! You heard your thoughts wail at you. “Loki!” You shouted, instinctively throwing one of your daggers at him, which caused Mjolnir to ricochet off of Loki and into the wall instead, while the blade itself landed in Loki’s chest, replenishing him of the previously lost momentum. He appeared next to you once again in a mere second, as you launched onto Thor’s shoulders, attacking him with your blades. He became woozy, but was still able to lure Mjolnir back to him, which effectively knocked you off of him. Loki caught you, which, to your surprise, hurled you both into the air like a rocket.

Both light and dark green magic surged behind you as you were propelled together across the room. Before you knew it, you were traveling back towards Thor, like you had both placed a target on him. Thor tried to launch Mjolnir, but it quickly deflected off of you both. 

Loki’s touch was magical in more ways than one. The air that carried you was animalistic, almost hungry to strike Thor down. You made eye contact with the god that held you, smiling at him. To your surprise, he was doing the same at you before you even noticed. You watched a gleam of green course across Loki’s eyes, and suddenly, you hit Thor.

You hardly even noticed the impact, from how the magic had encased yourself and Loki. 

When you landed, however, was when the consequences began. Thor was down. He laid unconscious on the ground, pallor consuming his body. “Thor!” You shouted, with no response. In an accelerated fashion, Tony and Steve made their way down to the arena. You ran to Thor, Loki following close behind. “Medical!” Tony yelled, prompting a surge of personnel into the space. 

〰//  ▬ʃ════▻   ⋆༺𓆩⚔️𓆪༻���   ◅════ʅ▬  \\〰

Thor was placed into the medical bay of the facility, while yourself and Loki stood in the doorway. You tried to stay out of the way as the professionals worked their… magic. 

“What did I do?” You asked suddenly. Loki went to comfort you, but spoke “we, darling. We.” 

“Loki, for gods’ sake! It’s not a good thing! Your brother is unconscious and severely injured.” 

Shit. Loki thought. I should not have said that. 

“Darling, Dag- I’m sorry. Please.” But you were already gone. You swiftly retreated to your corridors, anxious for some alone time now. Or, perhaps, for a while. You weren’t fond of the profound impact that yours and Loki’s magic together had. I mean, you hand single-handedly - double-handedly - taken out a literal god. Well, Loki was also a god. 

You skipped out on both lunch and dinner, you were fairly exhausted from the usage of your newfound powers, as well as the emotional toll of mourning Cloak, feeling connected to Loki, and your said connection to Loki inflicting damage to Thor. 

A little after both meals, you heard a knock at your door, which was followed by the slight tap of a ceramic plate outside the door. Someone was leaving meals for you. They were quite delicious, actually. What you could eat, anyways. Your brain was flooded with emotions, and you could hardly focus on anything other than them. 

〰//  ▬ʃ════▻   ⋆༺𓆩⚔️𓆪༻⋆   ◅════ʅ▬  \\〰

It was later in the evening that you heard another knock at your door. “Y/N?” You heard Steve’s voice on the other side. You approached, somehow glad that you weren’t going to be faced with Loki. You were greeted by the Captain, who was immediately weary of his words due to your appearance. You were slightly disheveled, your braid had started to separate from its form, and the look on your face was less than pleasant. “Hey- I’m sorry. I’m really exhausted after today.” You spoke, looking into Steve’s sympathetic eyes. 

“No worries at all, Y/N. I understand how this must be making you feel. I just came to see if there was anything you needed, even if it was just someone to listen.” 

“How’s Thor?” 

“He’s okay, in critical but stable condition, according to the Docs. Still unconscious.” 

“This was the absolute last thing I wanted to happen.” You spoke, bringing yourself towards him to bury yourself in his chest. He settled his arms around your back, steadily running his hands along your torso. “I know.”

Yet again, across the hallway, Loki lingered. He watched as you buried yourself in the Captain’s chest, with an incredulous amount of jealousy building in his own chest. He was the one who left meals at the door for you, and yet? Here you were, getting comfort from the Captain, yet again. 

His blood boiled. He nearly ran into the room to disband the sight.

No no Loki. Not now. 

Amidst the vision he saw in front of him, he heard the Captain say: “I know. I know you’d never mean to truly hurt Thor. You’re a healer of your own, in your soul.” 

Suddenly, you disbanded from one another, as an idea popped into your head. Healer. Yes! That had to be it! You could heal Thor, utilizing your life force! 

“Thank you, Cap! I couldn’t have done it without you.” You smiled, regaining your energy from earlier. You gave his arms a squeeze before you ran out of the room, towards the medical bay. 

Loki followed close behind, although you didn’t know it yet.

〰//  ▬ʃ════▻   ⋆༺𓆩⚔️𓆪༻⋆   ◅════ʅ▬  \\〰

You hurried to the med bay where Thor was staying, unconscious. You were reminded that it was your own doing that he was injured so terribly. 

You pulled up a chair next to him, leaning over his kindled body. You sighed, as images of yourself and Loki charging into Thor flooded your mind. You and Cloak never did anything of the sort. 

But maybe that was because you couldn’t. 

What you knew you were capable of doing, however? Healing. 

You lifted Thor’s gown so that you could reveal his abdomen, which looked painfully singed. Placing one hand down on his skin, you began to feel your blood pulsating. A flash of white magic raged between your palm and his stomach. 

Your life force was slowly being drained in order to heal the god, until the room beamed with bright light. Suddenly, it all went dark. Black. The last thing you remembered was hearing your name shouted from across the room “Y/N!”

>>> Chapter III

Taglist: @lotrefcp

[delusional-through-and-through]

PROJECT 💥

PROJECT → LIBRARY → WINDOW

It was another day in U.A. High School, and Class 2-A was seated in their usual spots, listening to their homeroom teacher, Aizawa Shouta, also known as Eraserhead, his ever-present sleeping bag draped over his shoulder. His bored expression hadn’t changed, but his voice carried authority as he addressed the class.

"I have an assignment for you," his monotone voice carrying over the classroom.“As your final project for this semester, you will create a Research on a hero who has made a significant impact on society. This will include their contributions, the challenges they faced, and the lessons they’ve left behind."

The announcement sparked immediate chatter among the students. Midoriya's hand shot up, ready to ask a dozen questions, while Kirishima leaned over to whisper something to Kaminari, who is grumbling about the said project.

The sound of their voices filled the air until Aizawa's cold glare froze them in their seats.

“I’m not finished,” he said flatly, his tone sharp enough to cut through steel. The room fell silent, and the students straightened in their chairs.

"You’ll also be working in pairs." Aizawa continued. “And before anyone asks, your partner will be whoever is sitting next to you. No switching."

Kanata felt her stomach drop. She slowly turned her head to her left.

There she saw none other than Bakugou Katsuki, the ever so histeric guy of their class. His arms were crossed, and his crimson eyes were filled with their usual fiery determination.

The explosive blonde leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and a scowl plastered on his face. He noticed her glance and sneered. "What’re you looking at, Braids?"

Braids is the nickname Bakugou gave her when they were in their first year, because she always styles her long hair into Dutch braids.

Kanata groaned inwardly, burying her face in her hands. “Why can’t I catch a break?” she mumbled to herself.

“You will draw lots to determine which hero you’ll study. Come forward when called." Aizawa announced.

When it was Bakugou and Kanata’s turn to draw lots, Bakugo practically snatched the slip from the box.

He opened it and smirked. "All Might," he announced, his tone filled with satisfaction.

Kanata let out a sigh of relief. "At least it's All Might. There's so much material on him, books, news articles, even documentaries. This might actually be manageable."

Bakugou turned to her with a raised brow. “Oi. Don’t get too comfortable, idiot. We’re not slacking off just ‘cause it’s easy.”

Kanata rolled her eyes but decided to keep her comment to herself. “Fine. But can we agree not to argue the whole time? I’d rather not spend my time with a headache.”

Bakugou leaned back in his chair and snorted. “Tch. Don’t give me a reason to argue, and we won’t have a problem.”

...........

The bell rang signaling the end of class, the students of 2-A began packing up their things. The chatter of her friends making weekend plans filled the air.

Kanata was still sitting when a shadow loomed over her desk. She looked up to see Bakugou standing there, his arms crossed and his usual scowl firmly in place.

“Oi, Braids." he began, his voice sharp and impatient. “We’re gonna start tomorrow. At my place.”

Kanata blinked, surprised by the abruptness. “Uh… your place?”

“Yeah, my place,” he repeated, rolling his eyes. “Since it’s the weekend, we’re not stuck in the dorms. Meet me at the station at 8 a.m. sharp. Got it?”

Kanata opened her mouth to respond, but Bakugou cut her off. “And don’t even think about being late,” he added, his crimson eyes narrowing dangerously. “If you’re not there on time, I’ll drag your sorry ass to my house myself and blow you into pieces.”

She sighed, already feeling the pressure. “Fine, I’ll be there,” she said, trying to sound as motivated as possible.

“Good,” he said, smirking slightly before turning to leave. “Don’t screw it up, Braids.”

As Bakugou stomped away, Kanata rested her head on her palm, groaning softly. “Great. Just great,” she muttered. “Not only do I have to deal with him this weekend, but now I have to deal with him in his natural habitat.”

............

As Kanata walked down the hallway, she couldn’t help but recall the time she and Bakugou were paired together, during the start of the semester.

It was a disaster.

They’d been assigned to create a tactical plan for an urban rescue. Bakugou, still recovering from the injuries he sustained during the war, was already on edge.

His frustration with his limited physical ability boiled over one evening, when Kanata questioned one of his decisions, he completely lost it.

The next thing she knew, an explosion had ripped through part of the dorm kitchen.

While no one was hurt, the cleanup took hours, and Aizawa gave them both a stern warning about their “team dynamics.”

As she reached the dorm common area, Kirishima approached her with his usual cheerful grin.

“Hey, Kanata!” he said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. “You’re paired with Bakugou again. You’ve got this! Just… uh… try not to make him blow anything up this time, yeah?”

Kanata groaned and gave him a thumbs up.

..........

Kanata arrived at the station just as the clock struck 8 a.m. She spotted Bakugou immediately.

He was leaning against the wall near the entrance, arms crossed, and an annoyed scowl already plastered on his face.

“You’re late, Braids” he snapped as soon as she approached.

Kanata frowned, glancing at her phone. “No, I’m not. It’s exactly 8 a.m. Check the time if you don’t believe me.”

“Tch. If you’re not here five minutes early, you’re late.” he retorted, pushing off the wall and walked toward the train without waiting for her.

Kanata huffed but followed him, muttering under her breath, “He’s impossible.”

The train ride was mostly silent, save for the faint sound of Bakugou tapping his fingers impatiently on his knees. Kanata stole a few glances at him, wondering what his home would be like.

She had only ever seen glimpses of his personal side at the dorms, and even then, he mostly kept to himself.

.............

When they finally arrived, Kanata found herself standing in front of a neat, well-maintained house. She blinked in surprise. “This is your place?”

Bakugou turned to her with a raised brow. “Yeah. What, you expect a dump or somethin’?”

“No" she said, then give him a teasing glance, “But it does gives off major nepo baby vibes. Only child, huh? Bet your parents spoils you rotten.”

Bakugou’s eye twitched, his glare intensifying. “You wanna get blown up?”

Kanata laughed, raising her hands in a mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying!”

He didn’t respond, instead he grabbed her arms and drag her. “Shut up and move. We’ve got work to do.”

“You know,” she said, trying to keep up with his brisk pace, “you’re really bad at interacting with girls. Like, seriously bad. How the hell do you even have a fan club at school?”

Bakugou froze mid-step, his grip on her arms tightening slightly as he turned to glare at her. His face flushed faintly, though whether from irritation or embarrassment, Kanata couldn’t tell.

“I didn’t ask for those extras to follow me around like idiots. You think I’ve got time to care about stupid fangirls?” he barked, his voice loud as usual.

“The first years were always gossiping about your ‘cool, bad-boy aura.’ But seriously, with the way you act? It’s a miracle they still like you.”

“Shut up,” Bakugou cut her off, dragging her l again. He unlocked the door with a sharp twist. “Get inside before I leave you out here.”

Kanata chuckled at his threats. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. Geez, sensitive much?”

“Damn right I’m sensitive when people talk nonsense!” Bakugou said, stepping further into the house.

...........

Bakugou led Kanata into the living room, muttering under his breath about her unnecessary talking.

Kanata took a seat on the sofa, glancing around the neatly decorated space. It was surprisingly cozy, with framed photos and small trinkets lining the shelves.

Before she could comment, a loud, confident voice echoed from the kitchen. “Katsuki! Is that you?!”

Bakugou Mitsuki appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Her resemblance to Bakugou was unmistakable, though her warm smile was far from her son’s usual scowl.

Her sharp eyes flicked over to Kanata and a sly smile spread across her face. “Well, well, what’s this? Did my little Katsuki finally bring home a girlfriend?”

“WHAT THE HELL, OLD HAG?!” Bakugou exploded. “SHE’S NOT MY GIRLFRIEND, YOU CRAZY WOMAN!”

“CRAZY?!” Mitsuki snapped back, her hands on her hips. “IS THAT ANY WAY TO TALK TO YOUR MOTHER, YOU LITTLE BRAT?”

Kanata blinked, caught in the crossfire as the two began shouting at each other.

“I BRING A CLASSMATE HOME TO WORK ON A PROJECT, AND YOU START WITH THIS CRAP?!” Bakugou shouted, his hands twitching as if he were holding back from letting off an explosion.

“WELL, EXCUSE ME FOR BEING CURIOUS! YOU’VE NEVER BROUGHT A GIRL HOME BEFORE!” Mitsuki shot back, rolling her eyes.

Kanata watched the spectacle with a mix of amusement and secondhand embarrassment until a calmer, quieter presence entered the room.

“Now, now, you two,” Bakugou Masaru said, stepping in with a nervous smile. “We have a guest. Let’s not scare her off, okay?”

Kanata stood up, bowing slightly. “It’s nice to meet you both. I’m Kanata, I’m in the same class as Katsuki. We’re partnered for a project, so that’s why I’m here.”

Mitsuki grinned at Kanata. “Ah, nice to meet you, dear! I’m Mitsuki, Katsuki’s mom. Has my son been causing trouble at school?”

Kanata glanced at Bakugou, who was glaring daggers at her. “Oh, he sure does. A lot actually.”

Bakugou groaned. “Oi—”

Ignoring him, Kanata continued, “Like, back when we were first year, he blew up a senior who was playing a villain during a training simulation. Poor guy wasn’t even ready for it.”

“He deserved it for going easy on me, damn him!” Bakugou barked, arms crossed defensively.

“And that’s not all” Kanata added “he also tried to blow up his first-year fan club.”

“Idiots wouldn’t leave me alone!”

“Oh, and there was the time when our class were playing that card game called U.A. Heroes Battle, he got pissed and blew up part of the dorm.” Kanata said with a laugh. “Aizawa-sensei had to ban us from playing card games because of him.”

Mitsuki burst into laughter, clapping her hands. “That sounds exactly like him! I knew he’d be a handful at school too!”

Bakugou groaned loudly, dragging a hand down his face. “SHUT UP! ALL OF YOU! YOU’RE JUST MAKING CRAP UP NOW!”

Kanata raised her hands innocently. “I swear I’m not. Ask anyone in our class.”

Masaru chuckled nervously. “Well, it’s good to know that you’re passionate, Katsuki.”

“Passionate my ass,” Mitsuki muttered before clapping her hands. “Alright, enough stalling. You two have a project to work on, don’t you? Go on and get to it.”

Kanata grinned as Bakugou stormed past her toward the stairs, muttering a string of curses. She followed him, still chuckling softly. “Your family’s great, by the way.”

“Shut it,” Bakugou snapped, stomping up the stairs.

...........

Bakugou’s room was surprisingly neat, with shelves lined with books, figurines, and a few All Might posters that Kanata couldn’t help but smile at.

“Focus on the articles about his rise as a hero,” Bakugou muttered, scrolling through a news archive on his laptop.

Kanata leaned over to read. “Wait, don’t skip that one! It talks about his time before becoming the Symbol of Peace.”

“Tch. I know what I’m doing, idiot,” Bakugou snapped, though he didn’t scroll past the article.

“You say that, but half the time you’re yelling instead of working,” Kanata said, jotting notes in her notebook.

“Because you keep distracting me with your dumb questions!”

“Oh, please,” Kanata said, rolling her eyes. “At least I’m trying to keep this organized. Remember earlier? You almost deleted our entire draft because you clicked the wrong button.”

“Shut up before I throw you out the window,” Bakugou growled, though a faint blush crept up his cheeks.

Before the argument could escalate further, Mitsuki popped her head into the room, holding a tray of snacks. “Here you go, kids! Don’t work yourselves too hard.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Bakugou,” Kanata said cheerfully, grabbing a cookie.

“Oi, don’t hog them!” Bakugou growled, snatching one for himself.

Mitsuki grinned. “You’re welcome, Kanata. Don’t let him boss you around too much.”

"I won't." Kanata replied, smiling. Mitsuki winked at her before leaving.

By the time the sun began dipping below the horizon, they called it a day. Kanata stretched and yawned as they descended to the living room, where she bid farewell to Bakugou’s parents.

“Thank you so much for having me! The snacks were delicious.”

Mitsuki waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all. You’re welcome here anytime, dear.”

As Kanata slipped on her shoes, Mitsuki turned to her son. “Katsuki, walk her to the station. It’s getting dark, and it’s dangerous for a girl to walk alone.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “Tch. If anyone dangerous shows up, they’ll run away from her instead. She’s more of a threat than than they are.”

Kanata gasped in mock offense. “Excuse me?”

“Enough of your whining,” Mitsuki snapped. “Walk her. Now.”

“Fine,” Bakugou muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go.”

As they walked toward the station, the sky darkened, and a chilly breeze picked up.

Kanata hugged herself, shivering slightly, she looks at Bakugou. “Aren’t you gonna offer me your jacket or something? Isn’t that what guys do in movies?”

Bakugou shot her a blank stare. “Why the hell would I do that? I’m not a walking cliché.”

Kanata pouted, faking disappointment. “Wow, no chivalry at all. Figures.”

Bakugou groaned, muttering something under his breath before yanking off his jacket. He tossed it at her face with more force than necessary. “Here. But you better give it back tomorrow. Squeaky clean.”

Kanata laughed, taking the jacket off her face and putting it on. “Thanks, Bakugou. You’re a real gentleman.”

“Keep talking, and I’ll take it back,” he warned, though his tone lacked any real threat.

When they reached the station, Kanata turned to him with a small smile. “Thanks for walking me, and for the jacket."

Bakugou's nodded, his usual scowl softening just slightly. “Tomorrow at my house. 8 a.m. sharp. Don’t be late.”

Kanata gave a mock salute. “Yes, sir. See you tomorrow!”

As she waved goodbye and headed for her train, Bakugou stood there for a moment, watching her leave.

He turned and began walking back home with a rare smile present on his face, muttering to himself. “Damn annoying.”

Next?

[meenawrites]

Spider Modern AU cause I can't help myself

I've seen so many people doing this and I love so much so I shall be participating as well. I'll also be doing other characters but this post is dedicated to Spider rn. I should really be working on my finals rn but here I am.

Spider is 100% a theater kid. Like no question about it. This kid can sing, he can dance, he can do gymnastics. He's the theatre troupe's pride and joy honestly, he's always pulling big stunts that wow the audience. This also ties into his love of storytelling in general so of course he's a theatre kid. Which ALSO means a lot of his playlist is musical songs cause.. ya know, obviously. I'd imagine Kiri actually secretly gave him access to her Spotify so he'd got access to premium (secret meaning everybody but Neytiri knows tbh). 

I think Spider actually does pretty well academically. He's a fast learner and his brain absorbs things like a sponge so once he understands a concept, it's all A's for him. It kind of pisses Kiri off how smart he is without trying sometimes, but she's also super proud of him for proving his haters (and her mom) wrong. 

This kid is the Anti-Bully of the school. He sees anyone bullying anyone and he's already aiming a punch at their face. Because of that, he's kind of seen as the protector of underclassmen and targets in general so he's pretty well liked generally, except for by the traditionally popular kids. Also not super popular with parents cause all that really sticks in their heads is violent Tarzan kid. He kind of stops with the physical violence once Kiri expresses her worry for him and how she doesn't want him to just blindly resort to violence all the time. But then he starts making comments to bullies that piss them off equally so there's no real winning for him here lol.

I think Spider likes working with his hands a lot so on top of acting in theatre, he also comes up with and constructs a lot of things for set and they always look incredible. 

Also, inspired by @be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie 's latest post, he joins the cheer team in solidarity with Lo'ak because he wants to get close to Tsireya. Refer to her post for more detail on that, I reblogged it if that helps. 

Despite being a year older than both Neteyam and Kiri, Spider and Neteyam actually share a lot of classes because Neteyam is a star student and skipped a grade. Kiri could probably also skip a grade if she wanted to, but her head's a little too in the clouds during classtime for any of her teachers to recommend it, even if she does get good grades. 

Spider still has his hair long, though I'm not sure if he would let it just endlessly keep growing or he would trim it here and there to his shoulders just to manage the curls a bit. I imagine his hair grows pretty fast so maybe once a year he chops it back to his shoulders and in like three months it's already almost to his elbows. He's gotten pretty good at braiding though, so when he can't be bothered to put effort into maintaining his curls, he just brushes his hair violently and braids it all in like dutch braids or other complicated hairstyles. The girls' soccer team probably starts recruiting him to braid their hair before games (based on my own experience lmao).

On a more serious note with his home situation... I think as a kid he was probably passed through multiple foster homes and all of them kind of said that he's too much for them. Then he ends up with the McCoskers and while they're not ideal they never say anything like that or try to get rid of him (yes they neglect him but seeing how he was treated before and they're not kicking him out, he's okay with them just giving him a place to stay). At least I'd imagine until maybe something big happens like he overworks himself or something and who notices other than the new family in town? The Tonowari family. And then they swoop in and are like 'mine now' and Spider's just like what? Unconditional love? A home where they notice I'm gone? Where I don't have to find my own food? What is this?

BUT IF TRUDY LIVED: so I imagine as a kid he'd still maybe be passed through the foster system a little, but Trudy is invested in his well-being, she's just still convinced there's some couple out there who'd be better for Spider overall until she sees all of them rejecting this perfect kid and she's like screw it and screw my own problems, I'll work through them for this kid but I'm taking him. And he's a happy boy thank you very much, loves his mama to death. 

I'll probably have stuff to add eventually but take this for now. 

[seducemefanficsandheadcanons]

You deserve to be celebrated (Sam x Aron)

I've wanted to do something with giving the incubi birthdays for a while, and @cjsarchive gave me the inspo to finally do it! Enjoy!

Summary- Aron throws Sam a birthday party with the help of the other incubi.

Aron and Sam laid in their bed, the mood quiet and comfortable as they relaxed after both having long days at their jobs. Aron was wearing Sam’s t-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, her hair done in two Dutch braids. Sam was shirtless, wearing only some sweatpants.

It was a bit cold in the mansion, the cooler weather rolling in, and in response she pulled a blanket over the two of them and snuggled closer to him. She felt his strong arms pull her closer in response. She smiled and kissed his chest softly, nuzzling him. 

Her smile grew when she recalled her recent birthday. Sam knew she didn’t want anything extreme for it, so he and his brothers threw her a small, simple birthday party with some cake and presents. 

That’s when a sudden realization hit her. She had no idea when Sam’s birthday was.

“Sam,” she said, to which he hummed in response. “When’s your birthday?”

“I dunno. Sometime in winter.” he said, shocking her more. He didn’t know when his birthday was? “Why?”

Aron blinked up at him. “Well, just- you don’t know?”

Sam looked almost amused at her confusion. “Nah, time works differently here than it does in the demon world. It’s pretty confusing trying to match dates up.”

She hummed. “Makes sense…so you just don’t have one here? You didn’t pick one when you moved here?”

“I think there's one on my ID,” he said, reaching over to grab his wallet off of the nightstand as they sat up.

She nodded. “It should be on there. That’s kinda one of the points of ID’s, I think.”

Sam handed her the card, which immediately Aron noticed had a perfect picture of Sam in the corner. Her jaw dropped in shock. “Dude, your picture…”

“What? What’s wrong with it?” he asked, looking at it with her.

“Nothing…” she said softly. “Literally nothing…”

“...okay? Is something supposed to be wrong?” he asked incredulously, making Aron giggle.

“Well…yeah? It’s this, like- an unspoken rule about ID pictures, they are always awful. Always.”

“Oh yeah? Lemme see yours then, Doofus,” he said with a toothy grin.

Aron shook her head. “Oh no, absolutely not. The picture is…no, not happening,” she said matter of factly, making Sam chuckle. 

After a few more moments of playful banter, Aron looked at the ID for the small, printed date. She squinted her eyes and read it. “January seventh,” she read out loud.

He hummed. “Cool.”

She smiled and handed him back his card before flopping back down on the bed, mind already whirling about gift ideas.

* January Seventh *

Aron was never the best at gift giving, or baking, or planning, or any of the most helpful skills to have when celebrating someone's birthday. But when the day of Sam’s birthday arrived, Aron knew she had to do something to make it special. 

Sam was still at work, but the rest of the incubi were with Aron in the mansion, all of them working together to surprise him. Matthew was currently icing the chocolate cake, Damien and Aron were on the lookout for Sam, and Erik was finishing any final touches on decorations with James’ help.

The sound of Sam’s truck door shutting signaled them all that he was home. The group all stood in front of the table as the door knob turned.

“Doof-”

“SURPRISE!” the group shouted joyfully, startling Sam slightly. 

He gasped and looked around in shock, eyes wide. “Wha-?”

Aron watched with a hopeful expression as his eyes took in the scene; the ‘Happy Birthday’ banner hanging up, the big cake on the table along with his presents. His shocked expression turned into a happy grin.

“Happy birthday!” Aron said cheerily, smiling up at him.

The party went near perfectly, the air filled with chatter and laughing as they all celebrated. Aron looked over at Sam at a moment where everyone was caught up in discussion, meeting his purely happy gaze. He leaned over and kissed her head softly. “Thanks,” he murmured against her hair.

She felt her cheeks heat up and her heart swell. “Of course.”

He rested his head against hers. “I mean it, no one's ever done something like this for me before…”

“Well, you deserve to be celebrated,” she said back.

He blushed and opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by Matthew. “Break it up, lovebirds! Let’s cut the cake!”

[envihellbender]

Prom night at Ormond high

Fandom: Dead By Daylight

Characters: The Legion (Frank, Jules, Joe, Susie.)

Content: Genderfluid!Julie/Jules, Trans!Susie, Trans!Frank, Cosplay Joey/Joe

Summary: When Legion Night and Prom Night Merge.

Legion been planning Prom Night for months. Susie had never got to go to prom as herself before - well, never gone to prom at all. She was so excited that the Legion decided to make it a night she’d never forget. Jules helped Susie style her hair, plaiting the pink locks into a side Dutch braid. She made her own dress, combining different coloured translucent netted fabric into a layered skirt, making it scrunched up and asymmetrical. The pinks, purples, and blues all merging together. The shape flowing out so dramatically and chaotically so she didn’t feel pressured to tuck. She sewed it to a sporty t-shirt her dad bought her. She didn’t support like Hockey, she didn’t have any interest in the Calgary Flames and yet every single season since she was a baby he’d bought her the latest kit. It slowly became something genuinely sweet to a cruel gesture. She cut the neckline so it was lower and cuter. She sewed the sides in so it wasn’t quite so loose, and dyed the fabric into tiedye pink before using paint and markers to turn the flaming C to an S. She completed the look with a purple hoodie with blue flames on the sleeves and hem, grey woollen leggings, and Jules’ old pink Converse sneakers. Since it was Legion night, she had an old fencing mask she stole from school spray painted blue with purple flames at the bottom.

Jules had been to prom before, but it always with long blonde hair and a dress her mom forced upon them. They had been bought a dress this year, their mom trying to pawn the sons of her friends off on Jules, becoming angrier with every insistence they made that they had a boyfriend. They ended up giving in on the dress only, or so their mom thought. Jules gave it to Susie, she was one hell of a seamstress and could turn it into a nice dress. On the Legion Prom night, like Susie Jules finally got to go to prom as themselves. They wore a white button up shirt, a black waistcoat, a black leather collar with a silver ring, pinstripe black trousers, a loose studded belt, a tighter black belt with charms hanging from each loop (varying things like bats, coffins, and daggers), and a silver wallet chain. Jules straightened their hair and cut it to be chin length at the front and Frank helped with a pair of clippers to make it a number four at the back. Their mom cried when she saw it, their dad snorted and laughed - telling them they looked like a few choice words. Their little brother who’d just started high school said boys won’t like them anymore, Jules stared at him deliberately as they said ‘good’. For their mask, they took a hockey mask and painted it silver, simple but terrifying. Like a sleeker 21st century Jason, they thought.

Joe didn’t really care much about prom itself, the social aspect made him anxious so he did what he did to deal with the way he wanted to puke about being in group settings… He became someone else. On this occasion he made a Jason Todd cosplay - Red Hood era of course. Plus, it would feel like a smug fuck you to the basketball player who said Batman wasn’t for people like Joe. The Red Hood mask worked perfectly for Legion Night, he picked the artwork from the latest Batman comic series the Hill. He spent weeks in Art class making the red face covering, he made the class black eye mask out of Kevlar, and the lower half vibrant red armour out of EVA foam. He thrifted a red hoodie, and Susie helped him cut the sleeves off nice and neat, Grey combat trousers and a utility belt he already had from his previous cosplays, a black t-shirt was easy enough. Susie’s skills with the stolen sewing machine at the ski lodge meant he good tactical style grey pockets to the hoodie, and the red hood logo to the t-shirt. He wore black combat boots and him and Frank stole him some red hand wraps from the local sports store. Joe was so happy with it, he couldn’t wait to be Jason Todd and teach the creepy 4chan weirdos at school who talked about how much they loved the Joker a lesson.

Frank had been evasive about what he’d wear, and Jules managed to drag him out with their dad’s stolen credit card. Frank had never been to a school long enough to have a prom, and prior to now it never bothered him but Jules, Joe, and Susie wanted it to be special for him too. It wasn’t anything too flashy, a black blazer with matching suit trousers, a crimson shirt, black shoes, badges and pins for the lapels and his black tie… and that was that. When Frank saw himself in the mirror, his binder ensuring it fit just how he wanted it to he ended up having to try and hide (unsuccessfully) the tears building in his eyes. He spray painted his own mask in skull paint, and there they were. All ready for the best prom night Ormond was ever going to see.

Susie snuck out, wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and a hoodie with the hood covering her hair and a backpack that was straining and heavy. Joe picked her up in his car and breathed a sigh of relief that no one had questioned where she was going. Joe was ready, more or less. His story was that he was going to work the night shift security for some extra money, if he told his mom he was going to prom she’d ask way too many questions. She was too tired from her long shift to notice Joe was in a cosplay outfit. Jules delighted in wearing their androgynous get-up, smirking as their parents screamed and yelled, by the time Frank came to pick them up (they’d requested, just to piss of their folks even more) their mom was giving them the silent treatment and glaring at them both. Their dad had stormed out to go drink his weight at the local watering hole, probably where Clive was.

“You look beautiful and handsome all at once, babe,” Frank said before they kissed in front of their mom. Deliberate, of course. They went out to Joe’s car, both diving in the backseat and Jules stamping their feet trying to get out their intense hyperactive excitement. They had everything they needed, and once they were all dressed, it was down to the high school for their biggest Legion night yet.

It had been a big job that required a lot of preparation but on the night itself it was surprisingly straightforward. Barring the exits was easy, they could do it all from the outside of the high school gym and use the fire escape to get to the roof. The decorations were a fire hazard in themselves, and they’d hidden fireworks underneath the stage that morning, so when they opened the skylight and poured petrol down onto the unsuspecting students, dropping a lighter into the hall below… It was much less resistance and went a lot smoother than they could have dreamed. They ran to Joe’s car, climbing on top of it to watch the fireworks light up the nights sky, soundtracked by mundane pop music and the screaming and yelling. When they got to the ski lodge and looked down over Ormond, they could still see the fireworks, as well as the police cars, ambulances, and fire engines. The four of them had their own prom - music, booze, and Legion. It was all they needed. They made bets about how many got out alive, and joked about what the cruellest bullies looked like with their skin boiling on their bodies. It was truly a prom night they would never forget.

[stirringwinds]

Isn't something like that canon for nyo japan? although admittedly it doesn't make as much sense

yeah, it doesn't make as much sense for nyo!japan, haha. Kiku not having long hair in canon before the meiji-era feels like a missed opportunity precisely because for Japan (and China), the politicisation of short hair with modernisation, westernisation and "civilisation" in the 19th century (or: from the point of view of their opponents, a rather disgraceful break from important traditional values)—was centred on men's hairstyles, rather than women's. after all, it was still the norm for western women to have long hair in the 1850s. short women's hair as a statement emerges as a global trend more in the 1920s—and Japanese women adopted those styles too (as these photos show).

for men, short hair wasn't really regarded as appropriate in japan or china before the modern era. there were some exceptions, like shaving your head bald to enter a religious order. but otherwise from what i know, forcibly having your hair cut could be a punishment, precisely because the norm is long and pulled back into a bun/topknot, or the Manchu-style braid/queue in Qing China (which was its own controversy because the Qing rulers were ethnically Manchu, and the queue was seen as a foreign imposition on Han Chinese culture). Nonetheless, overall trend = long hair for men.

helltalia-wise, i headcanon that both Kiku and Yao had dramatic haircuts, though Kiku did it first (by 1867, when the Meiji emperor ascended the throne)— in line with how his long-term, pretty intimate relationship with Jan/Johan (Ned) and his exposure to Dutch studies pre-disposed him to being more willing to adopt western styles faster than Yao. after all, Kiku's no stranger to borrowing from others. i like the visual break from tradition and change in worldview this represents, especially since Kiku was not only heavily influenced by Yao for more than 1000 years before (the kimono itself was adopted from the traditional chinese hanfu), but because long hair for men also connoted "civilisation" through the chinese imperial worldview. for example, when china was conquering and colonising what is now southern china, the baiyue tribes who lived there were perceived as 'barbarians', and chinese writers back then noted their short hair as a point of distinction.

so, Kiku cutting his hair short is both about reinventing himself, but also inherently embedded with a symbolic turning away from Yao in some ways (as @hetagrammy and @acemapleeh also observed with some solid tag comments about Confucianism, the mentor-protege dynamic these two had vs. the pull of westernisation). it's like, Yao and Kiku have been at war with each other before the Westerners showed up (it involves Yong Soo, Yao kicking Kiku's ass and being very 'remember your place, upstart'), but to me, what still felt constant even during such periods of antagonism is that it's implicitly taken for granted that China was THE powerful empire, and that Yao's cultural traditions connoted power and prestige—in a manner similar to the sort of image Europeans had of Rome and Greece. so i really like the visual of Kiku's Dramatic Haircut, especially since one reason Japan eventually caved to the Americans' demands during the Perry Expedition was that they'd already heard from the Dutch what happened to China during the Opium Wars.

[wardencommanderrodimiss]

I have changed my mind about Ena cutting her hair short before Trespasser. I have decided that the Significant Haircut will take place sometime after Trespasser. (Unless Veilguard has a long braided style that's basically what I imagine her with, and I can't resist giving it to her to see what she should look like.)

Anyway. Circa Inquisition she has long hair and keeps it braided in like, a Dutch braid style. She puts it up for Halamshiral, probably, but that's about it for any variation.

In the months before Trespasser, as the mark starts deteriorating, on the days that it's harder and painful for her to do certain things involving that hand, including braiding her hair, she starts just keeping it tied back or up in a very simple ponytail or bun - whatever is quickest.

At that point, the only people from the inner circle left to notice the change are Josephine and Cullen - Leliana is Divine now, and everyone else are scattered working on their various non-Inquisition pursuits (or doing Inquisition work far afield, as Bull and the Chargers). And I do not believe Cullen has ever noticed anything about anyone's hair ever in his life. Josephine might notice, but she might also get too distracted with her work to say anything or give it much mind. Not until the Exalted Council arrives and, the morning of the first day, Ena sheepishly interrupts Josephine's frantic preparations to ask if Josephine can help her with her hair. Ena claims that she twisted her wrist while training, and Josephine takes her at her word - Cullen has noticed that Ena has been at the training grounds less, and seems to have been leaning more towards one-handed swords, so he probably would be able to tell Ena was lying. But he and Josephine aren't comparing notes.

Then with everyone else, I think Leliana would notice (big into fashion, also a spymaster) and not say anything, Bull would notice (attentive to detail, was a spy) and make a remark that Ena brushes off (Bull notes that down too), and Vivienne would notice (keen on appearances, determined to make sure Ena has herself together for this Council) but potentially be more concerned with the not-infrequent strands of gray hair that are popping out ("darling, you must take better care of yourself, but don't fret, I've arranged for a spa day--)

Also Cole notices but he can read Ena's mind so that doesn't really count.

Then, of course, trouble arises at the Council, and the Anchor is noticeably destabilizing more and more as Ena and the gang hop in and out of the Crossroads. (Headcanon: while the Crossroads aren't the Fade, it's still kind-of-sort-of close enough to exacerbate the Anchor's meltdown. Going physically in and out of the Fade a bunch would also make it deteriorate faster. This is how I merge the speed at which the Anchor gets worse and worse in-game, with my headcanon - and sort of implication? in-game? that the Inquisitor doesn't seem surprised when it first flares up at the beginning of Trespasser. It's just like oh, another thing - that it's been slowly getting worse for a while.)

So by the end of Trespasser, she just looks - awful. Covered in blood (and she’s a Reaver, so there’s blood a-plenty in her battles), her hair a long scraggly mess also streaked through with blood, falling out of the shitty ponytail she put it in, while the Anchor is actively tearing her body apart. Probably the worst Solas has ever seen her. He’s got his sick-ass armor set and she looks like she crawled out of the Fallow Mire.

In the immediate aftermath, she's more concerned with. literally everything else. than her hair. And she's not one for big impulsive changes. So for a while, she keeps her hair long, and doesn't - can't - really do much with it, without help. And Ena is, shall we say, deeply allergic to asking for help. She's staked most of her identity on being a provider and protector for her clan - then obviously transferring such sentiments to the Inquisition and its people - and she's already shattered by having to retrain how to fight, and who is she, really, if she isn't throwing herself in between her allies and the enemies. She, no doubt, has to ask for help a lot now, especially in those early days/weeks after she's lost her hand. At some point, asking for help with her hair would get to be too much for her - even if she's asking her sister, or one of her closest friends in her clan, both of whom accompany her in her post-Inquisition travels - and she gets it cut.

And probably hates it. Tells herself this is easier, more practical just in general - so much less time to dry after a bath! - but like. She'd hate it. She would spend the next 8 to 10 years with a haircut she resents for various personal reasons. She would do this to herself so that she doesn't have to ask for help. She has many things wrong with her.

Maybe if we can manifest a good ending for her in Veilguard - whatever that may look like! with or without Solas! - she'll learn that asking for and needing help does not make her a burden on the people who love her, and grow her hair out again. Or maybe she'll die tragically and her sister will beat Solas to death with a rake. Anything can happen.

[luvliewriting]

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Arthur Morgan As A Dad

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Pairing: Arthur Morgan x F.Reader

Warnings: slight angst, pregnancy

Note: I'm sorry I've disappeared for so long with no answer I'm most likely gonna do a full fic of this but let me know if you'd be interesting in reading something like that

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Was your daughter planned? Yes and no. Both you and Arthur had talked to each other a bunch about kids but didn't exactly plan anything, it was more "if it happens it happens." Not that he was ever expecting anything to happen, he wasn't sure what he would even do if you were pregnant one day with his kid. Of course, he couldn't really spend his time wavering on the options, but he still did. Honestly, you really worried when Arthur disappeared for a day after he learned the news. But he came around and was probably the best man you could've asked for to share an experience like this with. He already is experienced in taking care of women (More ways than one..) and you being pregnant is no different, he's careful with you, like a porcelain doll or fine china.

When your daughter finally comes into the world though, he's absolutely in awe. She looks almost completely identical to him and not only talking looks wise, she had the same cocky attitude he too possessed as she aged. It was one of the most terrifying and beautiful experiences that Arthur had a chance to witness inside of his tent. He feared losing you or the child but you both were healthy.

Although I guess having a child wasn't all positive, Arthur stayed sure but he struggled to be at camp more often. One he was sent on more jobs due to the extra mouth to feed as well as, he was just scared of disappointing you both. He believes you're both more safe in the care of Charles and Abigail who had both refused to leave your side since learning of the pregnancy and the same went for when your daughter was born.

Of course, Charles didn't let this slide and talked to Arthur too many times to even count, trying to knock some sense into the gunslinger. Saying how he was only disappointing you more with the constant leaving and barely caring for your baby. That was what knocked the air out of Arthur's head and he rushed back to your side almost immediately. Since then, he seemed to have smartened up and was there for your daughter more.

Arthur barely leaves you and the your daughter after that day, if he does it's only because he had Dutch barking more orders and jobs at him. But his first priority the second he's done any kind of job is coming back to camp to hold you both in his arms again. He says that he must protect his family, that it’s a bigger priority than doing anything else. But you’re not sure if that’s just a big fat excuse for him to hold her for hours. Laying in his lap, as he swipes a hand over her little head and feeling the thin, small fuzz of hair on it. With you at his side, singing to her as you stroke her cheek with a soft thumb.

He waits till she's older to finally take her on horse rides with him. Sure she's been on the horse before but that was with you and her wrapped tightly to your chest so she couldn't get shaken around. When she's five, Arthur had gotten her a donkey that she could ride around camp on; more a practice till she can get her own horse.

Hosea takes her on fishing trips and Charles teaches her how to braid, even Kieran lets her help out with the horses once she gets older. With age you soon saw how much she was truly Arthur's daughter, it wasn't just her looks but with age, she grew his wit and smart mouth. A couple of times you've had to remind her of some words she wasn't allowed to say. Of course you were always met with "but dad gets to say them?"

Of course it's not all sunshine and rainbows. Arthur soon learns he's contracted tuberculosis a few days after your daughter's seventh birthday. He doesn't tell either of you at first, he more avoids you two all together; one he's scared of giving it to either of you and two, he's scared of the reaction. He knew it was gonna hurt you both and there was little chance he was gonna live.

He lives you both in the care of Tilly when the gang starts to fall apart, you argued against this wanting to be with Arthur till his final breath but he wouldn't allow it. No, he wanted you both to remember him nice and well (as well as he could have been at least), he wanted you both to remember the good times, not the bad where he chokes on his own blood while his eyes roll back.

I know John is the one who ends up getting Arthur's hat but I believe if he had a daughter that she would get his hat. And trust me, she barely takes it off after she says a final tearful goodbye to her dad. She was at her most stubborn when Arthur had to let you both go, she clung onto him so tightly that she had to be torn off of him. It broke you to see how hurt your daughter was at the thought of leaving her dad. It reminded you that he wasn't gonna come back. This wasn't gonna be like any other mission that he's gone for a couple days and comes back, no he won't come back.

You swore you knew the second he had passed. You were tucked away in a hotel with Tilly and your daughter. Tilly was sleeping on the couch in the room while your daughter was curled up at your back while you slept in the bed. Her rosey cheeks still stained from her tears at leaving her father behind. You were unable to sleep as you snuck out of the bed and to the balcony of the hotel room to look out to the sunrise; Arthur's favourite thing besides you two.

It was as if he was right there with you. Holding you close and warm to his chest as a sense of warmth entered your body looking out to the same sunrise you were sure his spirit was looking at the same time.

After he passes, you find the little things that remind you so painfully of him. First your daughter, her striking resemblence to him. Plus with his hat upon her head, still slightly to big and needing to be tipped back to reveal her beautiful green eyes; his eyes.

You bring your daughter to Arthur's grave as much as possible, you don't allow any memories to fade from her mind of her father.

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Thank you for reading, please like and reblog as it really does help me out. Once again, I'm sorry for the lack of work. Feedback is greatly appreciated

Taglist: @margofiore , @cowboydisaster , @kieropal , @littlesatanicassholebitch

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[bp4545]

Practice makes perfect (Fluff)

Word count: 600 :)

Warnings: None just swearing:)

Summary: Draco has been trying to learn to braid your hair, and day after day, he becomes a master at it. Next up- braiding his hair...

---

"No Draco! You're not going to braid my hair again! Last time you did it, I had knots for weeks!" You protested, as your boyfriend sat at the other end of the bed with puppy eyes.

"Please y/n! It's so fun!"

"Nooooo" you whined, falling back onto the bed. 

He looked at you again. With his adorable bed head and pouting lips. 

"Fine." you said, giving in.

"YAY! I love you, I promise I will make it look good!" He said excitedly.

"I know you won't" you scoffed quietly.

"What was that darling?" he said amused.

"Nothing" You smiled at him.

You felt his hands and fingers twisting into your hair, creating hopeless tangles, and split ends. You sighed as you let him continue his work. Thirty minutes later and he was still nowhere.

"Darling why have the three pieces become four??" he said exasperated "What am I doing wrong?" 

"Maybe... you're just bad at this"

"Nonsense" he scoffed "I'm good at everything"

"Yes. Keep telling yourself that darling"

---

Two weeks and Draco had proved you wrong. He was in fact, good at everything.

He could do all the braids. French braids, plaits, Dutch and double Dutch. He was amazing. You had a new hairstyle everyday and you were living for it.

"I still don't know how you did it" you say, amazed at his work.

You sat in front of the mirror as you tilted your head to see the two Dutch braids in your hair. Flowers adorned in each one, and white strings tying them together. And your boyfriend standing behind you with a proud smile on his face. Gosh his stupidly handsome face. 

"Practice makes perfect darling." He simply says, and continues to get dressed for breakfast.

"I should learn to braid your hair." you stated, and he went wide eyed. "I mean, it's quite long, and I dunno you'd look pretty funny with braids" you continued.

"No don't be silly." he retorted

"Is that an insult?"

"If you want it to be" he smirked at you.

---

"Is this the last one already??" Draco whined, his long blonde hair under stress.

"No Draco I told you, there still about 4 more to go"

"But we've been here for ages" He whines again.

You ignore him and continue braiding his platinum locks, until you've finally finished and he looks just about as crazy as your aunt. You stifle a giggle and give him the mirror.

"OH MY FUCK" He yells "WHAT DID YOU DO?" 

"I braided it" You shrugged.

"Holy fuck y/n I don't know what you did but I'm taking it out" he stammered

"NO! I spent so long doing that you can't take it out!" you looked at him with the most pitiful eyes, and he sighed.

"Okay fine." he gave in "Only for today" He opened his arms and you came to his chest to hug him.

You looked up to Draco's face to see him smiling down at you with the biggest heart eyes you've ever seen. His hair is a mess, but you couldn't care less, you love him either way.

You tiptoe to reach his lips and he leans down to return the kiss. It's small, sweet, but it holds a thousand words, and a million different feelings. You break the kiss and look into his eyes dreamily.

"How do you do it?" you asked him

"Do what?"

"How do you kiss me like that"

He chuckled.

"Practice makes perfect darling."

---

a/n: I haven't written in a long while, so I hope this was okay!

[wrathfulrook]

Wrathling - Prologue/Chapter 1

Fuck it, we ball. There will be no regular post schedule :)

Ok, with much ado, here's my Deputy's canon. Enjoy.

Series rating: E

Relationship: John Seed x Patience Ekner

Word count: ~2k

Read it on ao3.

John Seed stared at the bound deputy in front of him. His eldest brother had been given custody of Deputy Pratt, his sister had taken the Marshal, and the deputy in front of him, Joey Hudson, was entrusted to him.

The sheriff and junior deputy had eluded the Project.

While inconvenient, it would be fine. God had a plan, and the Voice had never led the Father astray. John was a devout man; he had faith in the Father. This would be resolved quickly, easily, in accordance with God’s will.

John chuckled lowly at the woman before him. “Crying already? But we haven’t even begun…”

As he advanced toward her, she shook harder with her sobs, and he smiled. He loved what he did. And it was time to save Deputy Hudson’s soul.

~~~

Deputy Patience Ekner stared at herself in the mirror for far too long. She looked more or less the same as she did when she last looked in the mirror early this morning. She was only slightly worse for wear. A bit dirtier, a bruise here or there. Her hair had been re-braided. Her black choker still sat snug on her neck. The only real difference was the change of clothes. She wore a pair of light jeans, a black tank top, and her green uniform shirt, stripped of badge and name, while the rest of her junior deputy’s uniform laid in a haphazard pile on the concrete floor.

Dutch had advised she lose the uniform, so lose the uniform she did.

She couldn’t discern any real visible difference from her now and her this morning. But she’d been shot at. She’d shot back. She saw a horde – because there’s no other way to describe it – a horde of people attack the helicopter she was in, throwing their bodies onto it. She’d killed today. With intention. She hadn’t even really realized she done it, pushed a woman from the helicopter, until she saw her getting smaller and smaller as she approached the ground. She saw a man willingly climb the vehicle, higher and higher, until the propellers…

She felt she ought to look different after seeing something like that.

“Oh shit… Deputy, I’m picking up something new out of Holland Valley. It’s a broadcast from John… You need to see this.”

She exited the tiny bathroom and found the older man in front of the ancient television set, tuning into the aforementioned broadcast. Patience rapidly bounced her leg but kept her eyes glued to the staticky screen as John strolled around, dictating on sin to the music of the world’s most insane infomercial. She attempted to tune out the background cultists, focusing on the Baptist, who was admittedly more attractive in motion than he was on flyers and billboards. He was the one to watch out for. The cult’s recruiter. But when Joey was marched out, her mouth duct taped shut, her eyes hard and defiant despite the mascara-stained tear tracks dried on her face… her focus was turned into horror.

“…we’ll come for you. Welcome to Eden’s Gate.” The broadcast ended, only to immediately begin airing again. Holy fuck, they had the thing on loop.

“Shut that guy up,” Dutch said, and Patience leaned forward to turn the dial to off.

“Do you think he has the others? Whitehorse? Pratt? The Marshal?” Patience rubbed her temples, trying to clear her mind. Answering her own question she said, “No. Why would he taunt us with just Joey if he had the others? I mean, I guess he could, I don’t know, I don’t know how his mind works.”

“Not understanding his mind is a good thing.”

She sighed in frustration. “Not if I want to get Joey back, it’s not.”

“Deputy, I understand you want to get Hudson back. Everybody else, too. But how do you expect to rescue anyone from John Seed? In case you missed that broadcast, there are a hell of a lot of Peggies.” Dutch’s gruff and no-nonsense tone didn’t inspire a lot of hope in the junior deputy.

“Yeah, thanks, I saw it,” she snapped. “But that was one of his stupid PR schemes. We have no idea where exactly she’s being held or, more importantly, how many people stand between us her.”

“Those are all cons, kid, not pros.”

Patience gritted her teeth, leg still bouncing up and down. “Joey is my friend.” Joey was her only friend. They weren’t overly close; the pair had only met once outside of work. But she was new in town and new to the force. Joey was the closest thing she had to a friend, both at work and outside of it, and she had no intention of leaving her in the clutches of John fucking Seed. The memory of his hand stroking her throat, almost lovingly, threateningly, made her want to chop the man’s hand off.

“There’s a reason he chose Joey, out of all the people he’s taken out of the county, to star in this little production.”

“Because she’s a deputy. And he’s trying to demoralize the people still fighting back against this cult,” Patience answered bitterly.

“Because you’re a deputy!” Dutch roared in response. “As far as we know, you’re the only one on the force who hasn’t been captured. Look, Dep, the Seeds don’t want law enforcement running around trying to stop them, especially after that public arrest attempt.”

“Whitehorse could still be out there. I saw Staci and Marshal Burke get grabbed. They have to be being held somewhere. I never saw Joey or the Sheriff get taken. Clearly Joey did, but that doesn’t mean-“

“John trying to lure you out. You and Whitehorse, if they don’t already have him. But you can’t just rush in headfirst. That’s what he wants. That video, it wasn’t made for the whole county. It was made for you. He’s ‘marked’ you. That the first of his four steps to recruiting cultists, kid. A personalized video.”

“That’s fucked,” Patience growled. “But I can’t just leave a fellow deputy there.” Dutch was getting on her nerves. What was the point of saving her if not to pit her against the cult?

“I’m not saying you should abandon her. I’m saying you should be smart about it.”

Patience put a hand on her leg to stop its incessant bouncing. She certainly couldn’t get Joey out alone. How many people in this county would be able and willing to help her? Dutch would be able. But willing? And who else? She didn’t even know anyone else in this county. Dutch was right. She had no idea what kind of help she would even need.

“What if I head out and do some recon around Seed Ranch? See what we’re up against? Would you be willing to help me get her out?”

Dutch shook his head. ���Doesn’t matter how much info you can gather. I doubt the two of us would be enough help to take on the Seeds. But we aren’t the only people in this county that hate that damn cult. With communications open again we could reach out to some people.”

Patience’s thoughts were racing.

“Okay, wait. You’re right. We’re getting ahead of ourselves. I think I should stake out the place and figure out exactly what we’re up against. We can figure out everything else later.”

Not waiting for an affirmation, she stood up, heading towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to get Joey back.”

“Not tonight.” Dutch’s hand on her shoulder held her back. “It’s been a long day.”

“Understatement of the century,” she snorted.

“Exactly. Falling asleep in John Seed’s backyard isn’t going to help your friend. Stay the night. Then go.”

Patience nodded. “Yeah, okay.”

~~~

John threw his knife across the room, with a snarl, Deputy Hudson jolting when it clattered against the wall and floor.

“Confess!” He backhanded the woman across the face, and her scream turned into a sob.

He threw himself backwards, running a shaky, bloody hand through his slicked-back hair. He was close to losing himself to wrath. Losing himself to wrath, and taking it out on Hudson. And Hudson was not the deputy he was angry with.

He stormed out of the room, yelling, “Take her back to her cell!” as he went, trusting someone would hear him and take care of it.

The junior deputy had just blown up yet another one of his silos, and Joseph was starting to question his competence as a Herald. The deputy had been a holy terror since the day the Reaping began. She’d been destroying Project property and resources, hindering their preparations for the Collapse. She murdered untold numbers of the Project’s brothers and sisters.

Gleefully.

She was hell on earth.

And not he, his brothers, or his sister had managed to capture her. She had become a severe threat to the Project in a relatively short span of time, and it was rapidly coming time to make her pay. The horrors she had visited upon them could not be left unpunished.

~~~

Patience woke abruptly with a gasp, heart racing. She quickly tossed her head back and forth, not quite yet aware of her surroundings. The air outside her sleeping roll was cool, and she could just catch a glimpse of stars glittering above the pine needles. Calming down, she realized she could just hear Peaches’ even breathing on the ground, below her own perch on the tree stand.

She sunk lower into her covers. She was safe. It was all okay for now.

At least she’d woken up this time. The nightmares had been recurring, almost nightly, and they didn’t usually wake her up. At least the waking up was a reprieve. Not that she remembers the nightmare. Or nightmares. She wouldn’t know.

All she remembered were the feelings. The fear. The horror. The unrelenting sense of dread. The crushing weight of them usually stuck with her for a least a little while after waking in the morning.

Though she didn’t know exactly what the nightmares were about, she had plenty of nightmare fodder for her subconscious to draw on. The things she’d seen… The things she’d done…

The deaths on the helicopter had only been the beginning of the hell that was now Patience’s life. The broken bodies at the bottom of Joseph’s monument. The crucified and hanging people along the roadsides. The strung-up corpses that had so clearly been used for target practice. The immolated bones.

So many bodies.

And she’d created a fair few bodies of her own. She didn’t even know how many. Didn’t keep count. Couldn’t if she wanted to. She could still hear the screams of Peggies. Those she didn’t manage to kill with one clean shot. Those who watched their beloved friend or sibling or lover or whoever get taken down by her. So many bodies and so much screaming.

God, even the good guys were the stuff of nightmares. She kept company with multiple man-eating animals. Sharky, who was now one of her best friends, she met when he was luring those brain-dead Angel cultists to his trailer park to burn them alive. There were some pretty harsh rumors flying around about the Whitetail Militia’s conduct, too.

She hated it all. And the nightmares were eating her alive.

But she couldn’t stop. Every crucified, immolated, hanging corpse. Every Angel. Every scream she heard in the night. It would only keep happening and get worse. The goddamn cult was a threat to everyone in this county and she was one of the few people doing anything about it.

But for right now, she closed her eyes and attempted to sleep once more. She needed to be alert tomorrow. She was going to stake out Seed Ranch. See if she could figure out the lay of the land. See if she could determine where John Seed kept his prisoners. So she evened her breathing and hoped for dreamless sleep. It would all be okay.

She could suffer through a lot to save people. Even just one person.

She would suffer through a lot. Because that’s what it would take.

Chapter 2