#i need to get a haircut really badly

[meatsex]

i havent posted any pics of me here yet so heres a new one and three old ones, chest scars pics below

[running-in-the-dark]

ah, crap.

I gave up and started watching Almost Paradise. I don't want to like it! but I'm not even a minute in and there's his stupid face and his arms and he's adorable and I hate it (I love it 😭)

and then this: "just boom. heart failure. and trust me, that's worse than penis failure" cool 👍

and now he's been hit in the face by a beach ball 😌 awesome

[dollgxtz]

Getting Closer

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, cnc, stalking roleplay, rough sex, taunting, home invasion roleplay, crying, pet names like kitten, and sweetie, spanking

AN: Hiii again! Tyvm for 900 notes on my last story!!! I didn't think dark romance content with Sylus would be popular with ppl (I keep seeing convos about people mis-characterizing him). But honestly I think people should write him however they see fit!! I love seeing different interpretations! However, one things for certain. This man is definitely into primal play and no one can convince me other wise. This is loosely based on the midnight stealth story where he says "You're pretty good at running away" and "I truly enjoy watching my little prey struggle, especially when it thinks it can escape from me"

AHHHH ENOUGH TYPING ENJOYYYYY!!! (✿˶’◡˘)♡

Its a late evening and you and your dearest coworker Tara (who you basically considered your bestie at this point) were having a delicious dinner at one of the most high rated restaurants in Linkon. What was the occasion? Nothing special actually, Tara was just an intense foodie and felt the need to drag you to practically every restaurant in the city when she was feeling a particular craving. Not that you minded, it was actually nice to get to do something other than fighting for once. The Wanderers had been getting more frequent lately, and it seemed like every other day you were being called to fight them off.

Tara was busy chatting away about her own exhaustion from work, how badly her last haircut had gone, and some guy she had met on the subway that couldn't seem to leave her alone. You could only giggle as she went on and on about him. Despite her obvious distaste for the guy, you thought he actually seemed pretty well rounded. You had been hesitating on telling her about Sylus. You didn't worry that he was going to leave you for Tara, nothing ridiculous like that. He was just...hard to explain. I mean what could you say?

"Oh yeah, I'm dating the leader of Onychinus, yeah the one that escaped from space prison and rules the N109 Zone...did I mention he probably owns this restaurant? But don't worry he's SUCH a sweet guy if you get to know him!"

Yeah...probably wouldn't go well. You let out an exasperated sigh, looking out of the restaurants tall window. It was a bit chilly tonight, no doubt it would start snowing soon. You turn to Tara again, whose still in the middle of her stories of her bad dates. You're about to ask her if she's ready for the check when your phone rings.

Tara gets a dangerous look in her eye and before you can even blink she snatches your phone off the table and abruptly answers.

"Is this the mysterious handsome boyfriend my friend wont tell me about?" she coos, blocking your attempts to grab your phone. "Tara!! Please!" you exclaim, trying your hardest to not get the attention of the other patrons.

You feel your ears heat up as you get up from the booth. She laughs at something he says as you finally get your device from her grasp. She huffs in amusement from her little joke. You put the phone to your ear to hear Sylus chuckling a bit.

"Sorry ...um, what did you want?" you say lowly, trying to get yourself together.

"I'm guessing that's...Tessa?" Sylus says, clearly amused by the situation. He's got that...tone in his voice. The one he uses when he's toying with you. You feel your face heat up, trying to keep your cool with Tara watching close next to you.

"Tara" you correct, coldly, shooting her a death glare. "She's still got a few screws loose clearly". She giggles at this comment and you sigh.

"She seems pretty funny to me"

"What did you want? I was just about to head ho-"

"I really like your hair today, kitten" Sylus says, his voice seemingly lower and...dark?

You feel the hairs on your neck stand up, immediately you begin to scan the restaurant. He hasn't seen you today at all...is he in the restaurant? Is Mephisto outside somewhere tattling again? You scan everywhere but no sight of either one of them.

"Cat got your tongue sweetie?"

You swallow, turning back to the phone. "I see you have nothing better to do than send that damn bird to spy on me again. I'm taking him apart when I find him" you say, trying your hardest to sound calm.

Tara tilts her head in confusion, and you give her an awkward grin. Dammit. You'll have to explain it off as an inside joke or something later. Sylus chuckles again on the other end, sending a million thoughts racing in your head.

"Who said anything about Mephisto? He's back at home, probably resting".

"Then how..." your voice trails off, the words seemingly stuck in your throat. Curse this man, always playing his stupid mind games with you.

"What do you mean how? I can see you of course. How else would I know sweetie?"

Ah...so he is here. He's just hiding from you, probably enjoying the look of your panicked face and you wiping your sweaty palms on your skirt.

"That skirt will roll up pretty easy don't you think, kitten?" Sylus says, drawing out every syllable. You can hear the smile through the phone and it infuriates you. But it also forms a knot in your stomach from excitement. He's got you right where he wants you clearly.

You suddenly hang up on him, barely able to bear the tension forming in you heart and stomach. You sigh and turn your attention back to your very worried coworker. "Um...sorry. I think we should probably get the check don't you think? Its late haha..." you trail off, trying to look less stressed. What was that idiot thinking?? There's no way you were gonna do that in public. You try looking through the window again, trying to spot even a tall silhouette somewhere but nothing...where is he???

You feel cold fingers touch your shoulder, and you whip your head to face Tara. "I'm sorry if I made you upset...or him. Is everything okay with you both?" she asks, her brows furrowed in confusion. Your head spins trying to come up with some explanation for your panic. Is there even a good excuse? No way you could tell her that its some kind of sex game you both indulge in right???

"Umm, look its fine!! Nothing to worry about Tara, I forgive you" you say quickly, gathering your things into your bag. "I have to go though, lets get the check yeah?"

Tara, albeit still puzzled, nods her head in agreement. "Lets meet here again next week! But please, if you ever need to talk to me I'm here okay?" she says softly, before leaning in to give you a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. You both chat for a bit before the waiter comes with the check, bidding each other goodbye once the bill was settled.

You open the door to the restaurant and shiver as the crisp, early winter air envelopes your body. It wasn't nearly this cold earlier and you curse yourself for picking this stupid thin skirt to wear. The sun has long set and its dark. The moon gives the street a nice glow however, which settles your nerves a little.

Your phone rings.

You stop dead in your tracks, debating if you should even pick up. With shaky fingers, you finally answer.

"You know I don’t like being hung up on, where’s your manners hm?" Sylus asks. You glance over your shoulder, half expecting to see his annoying grin, but there's nothing there. You nod absentmindedly and murmur a quick "whatever" as you keep walking. Maybe if you stay quiet, you’ll catch the sound of his footsteps and figure out his location?

"You're close...aren't you Sylus?" you say, trying to sound confident in your question. In all honesty you had no idea.

"Obviously. I can smell that vanilla perfume I love so much. You should wear it more often"

"Its not really that good of a scent, too sweet. I don't like it..." you mutter, voice shaking as you walk. You hear a crunch behind you and you whip your head around. Unfortunately, its just some stray cats scurrying about near some trash cans. You cant tell whether your relieved or more frightened that its not Sylus.

"We both know that's not true. You always wear it on our dates..." he chuckles through the phone, as if it finds it amusing. "Always trying to impress me, how cute”.

Ah, so he did notice. You found it kind of freaky how observant he was sometimes. He probably knew you better than yourself at times. But this confirmed something very important. He was close, close enough to smell you. Did you pass by him by accident and didn't notice? You start walking a bit faster, hoping to catch the last subway home before in leaves the station.

"Zip it" you growl into the phone. You look up ahead, spotting some mirrors being displayed in some glass displays. Ah hah...maybe you'll see glimpses of him if you stop by?

You abruptly stop in front of one of the mirrors, pretending to admire your appearance.

"Do you think I should wear my hair like this more often Sylus?" you ask, narrowing your eyes to look in the reflection. There is someone, but its not Sylus. Just a disheveled looking guy smoking a cigarette.

"Using the reflection are we? What a clever little kitten you are...~"

He hangs up.

You spin around, hoping to catch sight of him. I mean c'mon, he's over 6ft, wide shoulders, and white hair. He should be easy to spot, even in the dark. But again, nothing.

But you know he's still watching you. You can feel it. You begin to hug yourself, partly out of fear but also out of being cold. You needed to hurry if you didn't want to be stuck walking the rest of the way to your apartment.

Part of you didn't want to admit it but this was exciting. You liked Sylus when he was sweet yes...but you liked it more when he was dangerous. You keep up a slightly fast pace, trying to keep your head on a swivel. You battle between feeling scared and confident, your stomach in shambles.

You turn your head as you enter the crowd of people waiting to board the subway. All of them seemingly tired and needing somewhere to be. You swipe your subway pass through the gate lock and it opens.

Your phone rings again, and out of instinct you hang up on him. Then you get an idea. You call back.

The distinct ring tone of Sylus's phone can barely be heard over the noise of people chattering but you hear it!! You strain to hear it but it only rings once before he picks up.

"You always manage to impress me with how clever you are. Too bad it won't save you in the end...will it?" Sylus chuckles.

"Quit talking and stop hiding prick" you spat, looking around.

"Ah ah ah, patience sweetie. Unless you want me to take what's mine in front of all these people?"

You can tell by Sylus's tone that he's losing his resolve. More importantly his patience. No doubt he'd be turning up the intensity of yall's little game very soon. You shiver, imagining you pinned underneath him, whining and mewling from his cock while people pass.

"What's your plan kitten?" he asks, the sounds of brakes and doors opening echoing through the phone. "I know where you live, I know what turns you make, what your street looks like. You know you can't outrun me"

"Ha, well I know that you cant hide forever, Sylus" you say triumphantly. You step onto the subway, trying your hardest to push past people.

That's when you see it. The white hair, the red eyes. Your gazes find each other almost instantly. Despite walking into your trap, Sylus's mouth forms an almost villainous grin and he starts taking strides towards you. The door shuts behind him.

You hang up.

Thankfully, people pile behind you, giving you some cover from him. You turn your head over your shoulder, watching him closely. He's wearing a black turtleneck with a brown winter jacket made somewhat of leather. He's broad, and tall and yet blends in fine with the people around him.

You watch as he scans every face and seat he passes. You attempt to back up but are met with a few disgruntled people telling you to stop pushing. You're trapped. Panicking, you try to think. Maybe you could get off a stop early? No, he'd definitely get to your place before you. You have to get home and lock the doors, maybe barricade if you have to. All you can do is think to press yourself against the glass doors to hopefully be the first one off.

You turn around, and realize he's staring you down intently. Somehow he had made his way right behind you without you noticing. He towers above you, blocking your view of other people.

Shit shit shit.

His expression, once smug, now drops. His eyes glare at you from under his brow. You feel frozen, like a deer in headlights. Like true prey. All you can think to do in the moment is turn back around, avoiding his gaze. Sure, he's got you pinned now. But he won't do anything with all these people around right?

You feel him lean down, breath hot against your ear.

"Did you really think you could escape from me?" he growls, trailing a finger down the curve of your spine. You shiver from his touch, your instincts screaming at you to bolt away from him immediately.

"I do like to play with my prey a little...but you know I always find you" he says, resting a hand on your hip now. Your shaking now, whether from fear or excitement, you don't really know. He's so close you can feel the hardness of his erection against your ass. He's definitely at his limit now.

Not wanting him to think he's won just yet, you remain silent and whip your head away from him. You look at the faces of your fellow passengers but no one seems to notice you. They're all busy engrossed in their phones or conversations.

"No ones going to help you kitten". He mocks. He gets even closer, resting his arm on the wall beside you, angling his body so no one can see you. He takes his free hand and slides it under your shirt, caressing your soft tummy, up to your belly button, eventually settling on the roundness of your breasts.

You desperately try to reach up to remove his hands but of course to no avail, it doesn't work. You feel heat rising to your face...but not only there. An aching, hot feeling in the core of your stomach and between your legs engulfs you.

"Sylus...really? Here?" you ask, voice shaking, trying your best to hold in a whimper. Sylus doesn't answer, only continuing touch your breasts. His thumb and index finger rests on one of your nipples, pinching it slightly. You nearly drop to the ground, pain and pleasure sweeping through your core.

'What's wrong? I can touch you wherever and whenever I please" he says plainly, continuing his assault on your nipple. "You're mine".

As if trying to prove a point, his hands comes off your breast and dips underneath your skirt. He swiftly but roughly begins to press his fingers against your pussy over the fabric of your underwear. You gasp at the suddenness of the assault, your knees threatening to buck underneath you. You grab his wrist in an attempt to stop him but he ignores you.

"I should just take you right here. What do you think sweetie?" he whispers in your ear, clearly enjoying the sight of your distraught face.

As if the universe decided to grant mercy on you, the robotic voice of the intercom suddenly announces the name of your stop.

The doors open. You lose your balance, but quickly recover before you eat gravel. You don't even bother to look behind you, you just start bolting, trying to put as much distance between you and Sylus as you can.

"Aww, kitten where are you going? We're just getting started" Sylus chimes from behind you. No doubt not even bothering to chase after you. You knew he'd catch up in his own ways. Ignoring him, you keep bolting, all that track during high school thankfully being good for something.

You make a sharp turn into an alley, your stamina beginning to falter but you know you cant stop. Your phone rings, and in a burst of anger you answer.

"Quit calling!" your voice a mix of anger, desperation and fear, which gives Sylus a good chuckle once more. He's completely unphased by your little tantrum.

"I must ask, why pick an alley? Are you trying to make this easy for me?" he teases.

You turn your head, almost gasping when you see the familiar silhouette of Sylus.

Then he moves. Long, quick strides and he's already closed the distance between you two. He's whistling a familiar tune, no doubt from one of his many records. You recognize it almost immediately, its one of your favorites. But now rather than soothing, its just rather unnerving.

You snap out of your frozen state and keep bolting, narrowly missing Sylus's attempt to grab your hair.

"My kitten is still fairly quick, I see. Good job sweetie" he praises, his footsteps still not far behind you. You know his words are made mockingly. He could've easily grabbed you with his Evol if he wanted to. He's simply toying with you now. Playing with his food.

You turn sharply out of the alleyway, the sight of the gates to your apartment building in view. Safety. Its so close. A rush of adrenaline courses through your veins. The wind whips past your face as you push your body past its limits. The night is even colder now with the sweat pouring all down your body. Your hair is even sticking to your neck and face now but all you can think about is bolting up the stairs and locking yourself away.

You made it to the base of the stairs, wasting no time to run up the stairs. There it is.

You hear footsteps behind you.

The door. Now. GO. You dash through your doorway, cursing yourself about why the door was even unlocked in the first place. But in this situation? It was a blessing in disguise.

That was the fastest you had ever locked a door in your life. You scanned the room making quick work of pushing the sofa against the door and a few chairs.

You collapse.

Your breathes come in uneven, staccato bursts, sweat having drenched your shirt by now. You rip it off over your head, the clamminess unbearable. Now only in your bra and skirt, you're able to breathe a bit. As you start to collect your thoughts, you freeze.

Wait. The balcony.

Fuck.

You get up quickly, rounding the corner to lock the balcony doors. Thankfully, they're still shut when you reach over to lock it.

Yes!! You won?? Did he give up?

There's nothing but silence and the sound of your ac humming for a few short moments. You start to question if Sylus actually did leave you alone, when your phone suddenly rings. You answer it. confidence ringing in your voice.

"I win Sylus. Thanks for the little game though" you retort, still attempting to catch your breath.

"Are you sure about that?" He asks. His voice is cool and calm. "How sure are you that you got to the balcony before I did?"

"Wha-I would've heard you Sylus..." you say with uncertainty. You weren't sure anymore. You look around. Your apartment isn't the biggest. No way he got in here without you noticing.

"Would you have heard me?"

"Pfft. You don't scare me" you spat, backing away from the balcony doors.

You hear him chuckle. "I guess I almost had you didn't I?". You make your way towards your the middle of your living room.

"Say...what do you think would've happened if I caught you kitten?"

Your thoughts stir in your nearly silent apartment. You aren't sure how to answer him, anxiety knotting in your stomach. You start making your way to your bedroom, with your face towards the balcony, watching it with intensity.

"Surprise...~"

You nearly jump out of your skin, a scream ripping through your throat as large arms wrap around your waist and lift you. Sylus is quick to cover your mouth, dragging your kicking and distraught form towards your bedroom.

He got in before you. Of course he did. He can be lightening fast after all.

You bite his hand, hard. He simply chuckles, causing you to get even more desperate.

"Let me go!" you yell.

"Sure sweetie" he drops you to the ground, giving you a small window of opportunity to run. You try, but he instantly grabs your hair, twisting it into his grip. You yelp, tears forming from the sudden pain. The more you struggle the more it hurts. You desperately try removing his hand but of course he doesn't budge.

He watches you with a pitiful look, rolling his eyes.

"So fucking predictable, as usual"

He starts dragging you across the hard marble floor. Your scalp feels like its on fire, each and every strand being stressed with every pull. He finally reaches your bedroom, wasting no time to bend you over the bed. You push back against him, attempting to kick him. He pulls your head back by your hair. You nearly scream, letting out a sob. Tears stream down your face as you try to look at him, pleading.

"Please, I'm sorry. Please don't" you beg. He simply laughs. You feel his Evol wrapping around you.

"None of those are safe words sweetie"

You choke back on tears. You're practically soaked now. And it wasn't sweat. You feel utterly helpless, trapped underneath him, begging to be freed. He reaches up a hand, undoing the clasps of your bra with one hand. Its falls off your chest effortlessly, leaving you exposed.

"Thanks for making this part easy. Though this skirt is still in the way" he mutters. He pins you to the bed, rolling your skirt up to reveal the skin of your ass.

"Sylus...please" you whimper. Your only answer from him is the sudden sting from a sudden slap to the ass. You yelp in pain, the hot achiness between your legs rising. He rips your underwear in two with swiftness.

"Sylus, please" he mocks, you can hear the grin on his face. 'Telling me you don't want this and yet your dripping all down your leg"

He slides a finger along your cunt, making your legs buck. He rolls a finger around your cunt a few times, earning a symphonies of moans from you. You're already desperate to cum and he's barely done anything to you. Breath ragged, legs shaking, your about to beg him to let you finish when he suddenly pulls away.

???

You're confused until you hear the sound of his belt unbuckle. Is he...going to fuck you already? Not that your disappointed at all. You brace yourself for a sudden intrusion when your met with the sharp sting. You yelp, the surprise of the attack sending shivers down your body. But he doesn't stop, he hits your ass again. And again. Then again. And again.

You feel like your about to pass out. The pain is overwhelming all your senses. But part of you doesn't want him to stop. Your sure you have belt shaped bruises littering your ass by now. The tears have completely clouded your vision. You cant see a thing.

"You're so pretty when you cry sweetie. So pretty~". Sylus reaches a hand up to your faces and wipes some tears away. He leans over, lifting your chin to look up at him.

"Are you doing okay?" his tone is soft, his expression a mix of wonder and worry. You nod enthusiastically, letting him know you're still enjoying this.

"Aw. Lets change that shall we?" he says, his soft expression turning into a smug grin. Your smile drops and your heart starts pound again.

This bastard.

He gives you one last hard whip to the ass before you hear the belt drop to the floor. Then the sound of him unzipping of his pants follows. Your pulse quickens in anticipation. You can't move though, his evol keeping you firmly in place. He puts his hand back in your hair, tugging just enough to remind you of your place beneath him. You feel him align his hips with yours.

"Sylus, I-"

Then he's pushing into you. You're so wet that all it takes is one fluid motion and he's in. Doesn't hurt any less though. You stifle a scream, trying desperately through your tears to beg him to pull out. His pace is deep and slow. It feels almost akin to torture. The head of his cock presses against your g-spot, building a painful high in your abdomen. The hour of teasing and adrenaline rush has you beyond overstimulated, you feel ready to burst at any moment but its not enough stimulation. You stay bordering on the edge of heaven, and yet he doesn't allow you to cross over. It feels like hours as he keeps getting you right to the tip of finishing and then slows down. It hurts so bad, and your crying over and over.

"Sylus...it hurts" you whimper.

"Its supposed to"

"Sylus...please" you beg, your voice shaking from desperation.

"Calm down kitten"

"Sylus-'

"I said calm yourself. Or I'll stop now. Do you want that?"

You whimper in disagreement, face planting into the bed once more. Sylus lifts your head by the chin, leaning down to give you a small kiss on the cheek. You look so beautiful right now, the puffiness and red of your eyes turning him on even more. He speaks, his voice hard and cold.

"Always so greedy. Spoiled brat."

With little to no warning, he slams his cock into your aching cunt. You gasp in shock, but have no time to process anything as he fucks you faster and harder with each thrust. Your so overstimulated that it only takes a few thrusts to make you cum. Your body tenses and shakes as you come undone on his cock. Your moaning while gasping for air, feeling the best you've ever felt and yet on the verge of passing out.

Sylus feels your cunt tighten so hard around him that he can't help but also come undone himself. You hear a small and faint "Fuck..." but your head is spinning too much to hear much else. You're in a trance practically.

You feel the stickiness of his cum dripping down your thigh and then your out like a light. Adrenaline and overstimulation had gotten the best of you. Sylus chuckles and gently lifts you onto your bed, pulling the sheets over your worn out body.

When you wake up, your eyes and head hurt so so bad. Your vision is blurry too. You attempt too blink the blurriness away.

Sylus.

You sit up, looking for him. Did he leave already? You look at the clock, the red hue of the lights read that its three in the morning.

"S-sylus?" you whimper, feeling slightly abandoned.

"Calm down sweetie, I'm here. Its cute watching you search for me though" he says, his figure appearing in the doorway. He's holding a water bottle and a wet rag. He sits next to you, and starts gently wiping the dried tears from your face. You look down, your thighs still a sticky mess of cum, sweat and desperation from earlier. Sylus smiles a bit, laughing under his breath.

"I figured I could run you a shower when you woke up" he says, stretching out his hand for you. "Although the plumbing here is...less than adequate I guess I could join you".

You roll your eyes, laughing at his dumb remark before taking his hand in yours. You cant help but crack a smile.

"Yeah, lets go"

[aothotties]

Telling Nanami you want a baby

Warnings: MNDI, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f. recieving), creampie, unprotected sex, fluff at the end

You and your husband were happily married. You had the house , the cars, the perfect life, the only thing that was missing was all the children you wanted. 

You and Nanami had talked about having kids before but never really made good on it and after 3 years, you were ready.

You paced around the kitchen unsure what to say to him. What if he wasn't ready yet? You were on edge just thinking about it.

“You look nervous, what's wrong” he said as he walked up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist 

“Oh nothing Kento it's just that…i think im ready” you said nervously 

“For?” he asked in response 

“A baby” you choked out 

He didn't say anything, just held you there. He placed a kiss on your temple and said,

“Let's do it then, let's have a baby”

You were beyond excited, you were so ready to have a baby and start this new chapter with him. Nanami downloaded an app on yours and his phone to track your cycle and ovulation. He wanted to make sure you were doing it at the best time with the best chances. 

Every ovulation week, like clockwork, Nanami was dicking you down making sure to pump you full of his seed 

This week in particular was hell for you. You couldn't understand why you were so horny, you neglected the app but anyone could have told you that it was ovulation week from the way you were practically humping anything.

Your husband was running errands and you were home alone going crazy, you needed him so badly. As soon as he walked through the door you ran to him and wrapped your arms around his neck and got on your tip-toes to kiss him. He dropped the grocery bags on the floor and wrapped his large arms around your waist and kissed you back 

You pulled back from the kiss and looked him in the eyes 

“I missed you, Ken” you said seductively 

Something about him had you in a trance. A fresh haircut, a tight white tee, and gray sweatpants, the combo had you dizzy and you needed him bad.

Nanami then pulled out his phone to check something then nodded with a smirk on his face 

“Yeah, let's go” he said and lifted you so your legs were around his waist. He brought you to your shared bedroom and laid you on the bed and wasted no time getting to action 

He slid your already soaked panties to the side and dived in like a starved man. He lapped at your folds while you moaned and your thighs trapped his head in place. He inserted a finger and curled it upward 

“Ken, just like that” you whined

He hummed in response and continued drinking you like cold lemonade on a hot day. His finger bullied into you while his lips were latched onto your clit. You were on a high and you didn't want to come down. He coaxed your orgasm out of you and you spilled your juices onto his face and he lapped up every drop. 

He stood up and removed his sweatpants and briefs. He turned you around and lined himself up at your entrance. His tip teased at you slit a few times before he slid in, a moan falling from your lips as he bottomed out. 

He was fucking you at a mad pace, hitting your cervix, tip continually hitting your g-spot. Your back arched and you bucked your hips against his trust and the sound of skin slapping filled your bedroom. His thick balls were slapping at your clit adding more pleasure. 

You could feel yourself about to reach the edge and looked back at him 

“I'm about to Cum, Ken” you 

You heard him groan and pick up the pace. You were gripping at the sheets below you and started to pull away as it was too much. Nanami grabbed your hair and pulled you back making sure you couldn't run 

“Mm, better take it mama” he said 

“C-cant, ‘ts to much” you whimpered 

But he was having none of it. He released your hair and grabbed both of your hips to hold you in place. He was mesmerized by the way your ass was bouncing with each harsh thrust.

Your back arched even more and tears ran down your face from the stimulation. He was fucking you sooo good and was determined to knock you up 

You release spilled on his thighs and the bed and he groaned from how you were squeezing him.

He hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled your body to his chest, manhandling you into a full nelson 

He bounced your body up and down on his cock reaching deep inside your cunt

“Kent-o fuck thats so good” you screamed 

You could feel every vein and even the mushroom head of his dick sliding in and out of you. This was his favorite position 

“Gonna cum inside that pretty pussy of yours” he hummed 

You felt his dick twitch inside you and after a few more pumps you felt him shoot his warm cum fill you to the brim. He held you in place until he was completely emptied inside you 

He laid you down on the bed and you crawled over to put your feet on the headboard. He laid next to you and placed his hand on your tummy 

“Can't wait to be a dad” he whispered 

You smiled at him and placed your hand over his hoping this would be the time that you actually got pregnant 

4 months later..

“Okay you ready?” your best friend asked while holding up her phone to record 

Today was the day you found out the gender of your twins. You were excited and nervous at the same time 

“Yes!” you said with a smile on your face

You and Nanami took your champagne glasses and hovered them over the beautiful cake that your mom had made for this moment. 

“Okay, on three” he said 

One…two..three

You shoved the glasses into the cake and pulled them out to reveal a bright pink center 

You jumped up down and Nanami had tears in his eyes 

“Girls! We’re having girls!” you yelled as you hugged your husband 

He held you in his arms and cried on your shoulder, overwhelmed with joy 

“You're going to be the best mommy and daddy ever” your best friend said 

You and Nanami were so happy and excited for your girls to come. 

Rachel

[crystallinestars]

NSFW Alphabet - Moze

I didn't expect to like Moze so much, but his backstory and gameplay got me, so here I am. Hope Moze lovers enjoy these silly headcanons of mine. Despite his serious demeanor, I'm a strong believer that Moze gets flustered when faced with sexual situations. Also, in case someone is not aware, girth is circumference not diameter.

Moze x Fem!Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Moze feels awkward about what to do after sex because he’s not used to being affectionate. You’ll have to guide him on how to proceed, such as pulling him into a cuddle or engaging in pillow talk (though he’ll be mostly silent).

Due to his love for cleanliness, as soon as you’re able to stand, Moze ushers you into the shower. If you convince him to bathe together, Moze will join you in the tub and help lather your body until you’re squeaky clean. If you offer to wash him in return, Moze will say that he can wash himself, but he won’t stop you if you do it anyway. He grows flustered if you wash him because he’s not used to being cared for in such a manner, but he secretly enjoys the attention.

After a bath, Moze always changes the bedsheets if you did it on the bed. If you did it on other surfaces, he cleans up whatever mess you two made.

If he sees any bruising on your skin or if you complain about feeling sore, Moze will bring you to Jiaoqiu for treatment. The assassin is not used to physical intimacy, so he worries he might have hurt you, and will feel guilty about it until told it’s nothing serious.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, Moze likes very little. He was seldom shown affection as a child, so he never quite learned to love himself. Whatever body part of his you shower in praise is one he will grow to think slightly better of. You think he’s got a handsome face? Your words will float into his mind every time he looks in a mirror, and a little warm spark ignites in his heart when he remembers you like how he looks. You like his muscles? He’ll try a little harder and train for a little longer to keep himself in shape. You like his hair? He’ll keep that haircut forever. Your praise means a lot to him even if he doesn’t outwardly show it.

On you, he loves everything. Moze is generally not picky about physical appearance of his partners. Every part of you looks pretty to him because he loves all of you. Though if you held him at gunpoint and forced him to confess, Moze would reluctantly admit that he loves the shape of your legs. He likes admiring them when you wear shorts or short skirts, and seeing you in thigh-highs makes him weak.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum has a mild salty flavor and is a bit thick.

Moze prefers to use a condom to avoid making a mess and generally avoids pouring his seed on your face or other body parts, though if you’re really into being covered in his cum, he’ll entertain you. He makes sure you’re properly cleaned up afterwards.

As for your slick, Moze doesn’t mind getting it on himself since it’s yours. He’ll let himself get as dirty as necessary if it means making you feel good.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Before you became a couple, there was a time when Moze walked into your room to ask for an important document. Unfortunately for him, you were in the shower at the time so he was left to search for it on his own.

However, the bathroom door opened before he could find it, and you walked out wrapped in a towel. Out of instinct, Moze quickly turned invisible and slinked off to an inconspicuous corner of the room, heart pounding quickly in his chest. He didn’t know why he felt the need to hide because it’s not like he was doing something nefarious in your room, but a part of him worried you would get the wrong impression if you saw him there, and he really didn’t want you to think badly of him.

The assassin didn’t look in your direction while you waltzed around the room, gathering a change of clothes but his face was flushed scarlet simply from knowing what you were doing. He respected your privacy and remained looking at the wall, not wanting to stare at you like some kind of pervert while praying you wouldn’t discover him. Thankfully, you remained unaware of his presence up until you left the room, and Moze used the first opportunity he could to escape.

He tried really hard to put the event out of his memory because it was a huge source of embarrassment for him and will never admit it happened (unless you somehow find out and press him, to which he will confess to everything while dying inside).

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Moze has no experience whatsoever. Absolutely none. The man hasn’t even kissed anyone before. He’s got a general idea of how sex works, but up until getting together with you, he used to view it in a very scientific way. In his mind, it was just a process that led to the creation of children instead of something that a couple could do purely for the sake of fun and pleasure.

He didn’t even imagine having sex with someone one day, so when the possibility of being that intimate with you surfaced, Moze was at a loss. The first time you have sex might be a bit awkward and full of little hiccups because he isn’t too sure about what to do. He knows the general process, but it’s the details and intimacy that he struggles with.

After your first time, Moze does research on bedroom skills so he can improve for next time and pays rapt attention to any directions you give him. He’s invested in making the experience a good one for you and becomes intimately familiar with all the ways you like being pleased.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Moze enjoys sex against the wall. Pinning you against the wall with his body with one of your legs hooked around his waist is usually his go-to position, though he also enjoys lifting you by the hips so you can wrap both legs around him. He’s strong enough to support your weight for the entire duration of the lovemaking.

Despite his shyness at showing his face to you during coupling, Moze really likes positions where he can easily see your face. Cowgirl and missionary are some of his favorites for this reason. He likes seeing your face because it makes sex more intimate for him, plus it helps him gauge how good he’s making you feel. He also does variations of missionary, such as hiking one or both of your legs onto his shoulders or pressing your knees to your chest for a deeper penetration.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Despite his serious demeanor, Moze is unintentionally goofy. He might recite a sex fact or a lame joke he read online with the most serious tone of voice and expression all while trying to please you and ruin the mood. He means well, but some of the things he says are so unexpected that they can be unintentionally funny (or cringy).

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He clean shaves to keep that area orderly. If he did keep hair, then it would be regularly trimmed short and the same shade of gray as his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Due to his upbringing, Moze never learned how to be open with his feelings or how to accept love and care, so he struggles with this in his life. Sex is no different.

Being expressive and affectionate is foreign to him because he learned to restrain his emotions, so he doesn’t shower you with odes of love and flowery compliments. He expresses his love for you in a different way. It manifests in eye contact during sex, pressing his body closer to yours until you’re practically flush together, holding your hand, and leaving a simple but lingering kiss on your lips after the act. Once he learns to open up more, Moze incorporates long and deep kisses into your lovemaking and holds you tighter to him, as if he is a man starved for you.

Even without the physical cues, the fact you are allowed to see him at his most vulnerable speaks volumes to how much he trusts and loves you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

If he needs to de-stress, Moze usually cleans to clear his mind, but on rare occasions, he masturbates to relieve tension. He feels a bit dirty afterwards, especially due to how messy masturbating can be, so he doesn’t do it often. However, after he fell in love with you, he was embarrassed to discover his thoughts strayed to you when he masturbated. It was never anything too lewd, mostly images of how flattering your body looked in that nice top you once wore, or the way your pants hugged your legs, or imagining it was your hand instead of his pumping along his hardness. Moze is usually good at being very quiet when masturbating, but when his thoughts stray to you, he lets out breathy gasps and even a moan when he climaxes.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Moze is pretty vanilla. Even if he had a wealth of sexual experience, his kinks would still be tame. He likes your legs, so anything that highlights their shape would appeal to him. Short skirts, shorts, and thigh-highs are just some of the things he likes seeing you in. He’s also a fan of seeing you dress up in flattering lingerie. It doesn’t even have to be sexy, just something cute that flatters your figure will have him thinking you’re beautiful and make him eager to feel your body.

Adding on his love for your legs, Moze is into thigh sex. If you’re okay with it, he would like to bury his cock between the flesh of your thighs. The squeeze of your soft thighs around him is both an erotic sight and sensation for him.

Moze also enjoys cosplay. He likes it when you wear something both sexy and cute, like a maid outfit or cat ears. He thinks you look tantalizing dressed up like that. If you ask, he’s willing to dress up for you as well. Stuff like formal/business wear, butler suits, glasses, a doctor coat, etc… are alright with him, though more provocative outfits like bunny suits would be too embarrassing for him to wear. Don’t ask Moze to roleplay, though. He’s not good at it.

Other kinks he’s into are body worship and praise. Once he grows comfortable with sex, Moze worships your body with his hands and lips, kissing and caressing every part of you because he genuinely appreciates your figure and the fact he’s lucky enough to call you his. Receiving the same affection on his own body will make him feel conflicted at first. As mentioned previously, Moze was deprived of love and affection when he was young, so receiving it feels foreign to him. If you take it slow and ease him into the experience, he will let you pamper his body and find a strange sense of enjoyment from it. If you combine your reverent touches with some praise, he will be deeply touched (more on this in Wild Card).

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Strictly at home. Moze doesn’t feel comfortable having sex anywhere else. In terms of locations in the house, he’s fine with almost anywhere, though he does favor the bathtub and bed.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Moze is a simple man. If he sees you in revealing clothing or things like swimsuits/lingerie, he grows flustered and pops a boner. Teasing or directly expressing your interest in having sex with him is another thing that easily gets Moze going. Feeling desired by you in an instant turn-on for him.

One other thing that gets him going is seeing you pleasure yourself. Whether he stumbles upon you by accident, or you purposely play with yourself to seduce him, Moze won’t be able to resist such an erotic sight. He’ll want to join in and help you get off, but only if you allow him. Seeing you feel good makes him feel good in turn.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Sharing is a no-no. You’re very special to Moze, and he hopes he’s equally as special to you as you are to him, so having sex with a third party ruins the illusion of your special relationship. Plus, he doesn’t want anyone other than you to see him in such a vulnerable state. He also doesn’t like the idea of sex in public places because he’s a very private person by nature.

Losing control over his body scares him, so Moze dislikes things like bondage and blindfolding. He’ll entertain you if you want that done to you, but he’s not comfortable with having it done to him. He also finds watersports gross.

Moze also refuses to get rough with or degrade you. He doesn’t want to hurt you and won’t find it enjoyable to do so. Another thing he doesn’t do is roleplay, but it’s less because he dislikes it and more because he sucks at it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

The first time you gave Moze a blowjob, he was caught by surprise due to how good it felt. His knees felt weak, and he had to fight to reign in his desire to orgasm right then and there. It was probably one of the few times when you heard him let out a loud, strangled moan and saw his reserved expression crumble into a pleasured one. The sensation of having his dick sucked for the first time was new and intense, which is why it had such a strong impact on him. Moze comes to love receiving blowjobs even though he’s too awkward to openly ask for them. There’s something erotic about watching you work your mouth over him, though he tends to avert his gaze out of fear of cumming too quickly from the sight.

When it comes to eating you out, Moze may lack experience, but he makes up for it with enthusiasm. He desires to make you feel good, so he gives it his all in learning all the spots that drive you wild. He pays rapt attention to your guidance in how you like to be eaten out and relies on your feedback and moans to tell him which pressure and speed you enjoy most. Moze quickly memorizes how you best like to feel his tongue in your pussy, which speed and pressure of flicks you enjoy against your clit, and the suction which makes you moan loudest.

If you squirm a lot due to his ministrations, Moze will pin your hips down, so you won’t interfere with his task. He won’t stop until he makes you orgasm, though if you tug at his hair and say it’s too much for you, he’ll stop. When he eats you out, your sounds and reactions can cause Moze to pop a boner and unconsciously grinds his hardness against the mattress.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

His go-to pace is slow, especially when he first starts having sex. Since everything is so new to him, Moze wants to take it slow so he can get used to the act of sex and learn what you’re both comfortable with. If you’re comfortable with a moderate or even fast pace, Moze can adjust and go faster to meet your needs.

Whether he wants it fast or slow depends on his mood. If he’s horny, he’ll want to go faster to chase after his release, but if the mood between you is intimate and sensual, he’ll opt for slower thrusts. At the end of the day, he will always go at the pace you want instead of what he wants because his goal is to make you happy.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Moze can go for quickies. If either of you get horny but there’s not enough time for a proper session of sex, then he is willing to indulge in oral sex, thigh jobs, or a quick fuck to satisfy the lustful cravings. He loves the emotional intimacy that comes with your regular lovemaking, so he does prefer longer sessions.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Moze is highly cautious by nature, so he is reluctant to take serious risks like exhibitionism or doing things that could result in injury. However, due to his inexperience, he’s also open to trying new things, especially if they’re something you’re interested in. He’s willing to try most things at least once as long as they don’t endanger either of you.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Moze trains a lot, so his stamina is quite high. He can last for a long time, outlasting you by a long shot, but he stops if he senses you’re tired. He can easily last for 3 rounds, but rarely goes for more than that since you can’t keep up with his stamina.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Moze doesn’t own any toys. He’s embarrassed by the thought of using one and thinks they’re not necessary for him to feel good.

If there are toys you like using on yourself, Moze will learn how they work and will incorporate them into your sessions. As long as it makes you feel good, he’s willing to do almost anything to indulge you.

If you want to use sex toys on him, Moze will be hesitant and wary at first, but with some coaxing, you can convince him to give them a try. Moze prefers to keep things simple, so BDSM gear and whips are not toys he enjoys, though he ends up enjoying vibrators more than he thought he would. Still, sex toys are not really his thing, and he prefers to have sex without them (unless you’re super into them).

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Moze is straightforward by nature, so he doesn’t tease you in the bedroom. Edging isn’t something he considers because his mission is to make you feel good and bring you to orgasm, and that’s exactly what he sets out to do. He’s also terrible at dirty talk and verbal teasing (he doesn’t know what to say, or if he does say something, it sounds cringe), though he might make an amused remark if he sees you’re very eager for him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Having lived most of his life mastering the skills of being imperceptible, Moze became skilled at keeping his voice and breathing very quiet. The most you hear from him during sex are ragged breaths, muffled moans, and questions if you’re feeling good. With some encouragement, he can be convinced to let his voice out more, but it feels more natural for him to suppress his noises. If you can get Moze to lower his guard and just enjoy the moment, he might let out low moans. They’ll still be quiet, but at least more audible.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

The first time you had sex, Moze almost cried. Ever since he could remember, he was deprived of love and affection. Being orphaned and then tortured and treated like a tool by his “family” at the Sanctus Medicus had taught him to suppress his needs and emotions. When Feixiao rescued him and gave him a second chance at life, he grew used to being called a weirdo and feared by people.

But here you were, touching him so tenderly as if he were something precious instead of a terrifying tool of murder. You marveled at his physique in a way nobody ever had before and whispered how handsome he looked despite all the scars. You kissed his skin so softly, seeking out with your lips and hands all the spots on his body that sent jolts of pleasure through him.

Moze had never been treated with such gentleness and care before, and the attention overwhelmed him. The tender touches and sweet compliments felt foreign yet so good, and when you said you loved him, his eyes involuntarily teared up, though he suppressed the urge to cry. Your affection touched him deeply, and it was scary how vulnerable you made him feel, so Moze asked you to stop.

However, afterward, he caught himself wanting to be touched and praised like that again. It had felt scary at first, but a part of him craved to feel that loved and cherished again. In the subsequent times when you worshipped his body, little by little, Moze learned to relax and enjoy being pampered. It still overwhelms him sometimes, and the vulnerability makes him uneasy, but he also trusts and loves you, so he feels safe exploring this part of himself with you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

13cm (5.1 inch) in length and 9.5cm (3.7 inch) in girth.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Prior to getting with you, Moze’s sex drive was low. Once you became a couple, Moze’s drive rose, so he now craves sexual intimacy about 2 times a week. He can go for more frequent sessions if your sex drive is higher than his because he’s just that eager to please you. His self-control is high, so if you’re not able to have sex for whatever reason, he can easily suppress his urges.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It’s rare for Moze to immediately fall asleep after sex. Usually, he waits until you fall asleep first before allowing himself to rest. There are also times when he has to leave for business reasons, so he doesn’t have the luxury to sleep or relax.

For the first while, Moze will be uncertain and hesitant about cuddling and hugging, so you will have to initiate if it’s something you want. Once he gets used to it, he will drape an arm around you and pull you close to his side or spoon you from behind. He’s a light sleeper and tends to stay in one position throughout the night, so if you move in your sleep, he’ll instantly wake up.

Moze enjoys it when you hug him and rest your head on his chest or shoulder and fall asleep in that position. He finds it comforting to be held by you, and think you look cute cuddling him like that.

[dailydegurechaff]

Tanya²

Today's Daily Degurechaff is… I’ll do you one better: Tanya³

(+ a small fic I never finished.)

Erich… isn’t sure what he’s seeing. He knows he’s wearing his glasses and he definitely has not been drinking… So what in the world is going on here? Why is he suddenly seeing things in triplicate?

Three of them. There are three little Degurechaff Devils in an office where there should only be one. 

When he’d knocked on her door, she’d called out that she needed a second. He hadn’t listened to her and opened it anyway. He’s regretting that now. Staring at them, both his head and his stomach are starting to hurt. 

All three of them are staring back at him. One is looking at him in abject horror, the next one’s eyes flash in recognition and she actually smiles (even more shocking, she does it in a way that isn’t uniquely terrifying, but perhaps actually cute), and the final squints at him a bit, as though she doesn’t know him. 

One of the three, the one who looks absolutely horrified, opts to greet him after a moment, “Ahaha—… Colonel Lergen… did you need something?” She sounds like she might be freaking out a bit. Erich feels similarly to her.

The second Degurechaff, the one who had smiled at him, turns her head to look at the first. She looks confused now. “Did you just say ‘Lergen?’ Not Rerugen?”

The first responds again. While she sounded nervous a second ago, it’s forgotten as she turns to her counterpart, “Seriously? You’ve been speaking this language for over a decade and your accent is that bad? Yes, I definitely said Lergen. Why would you pronounce it Rerugen?”

Now it’s the third one’s turn to speak, “No, I agree, it’s definitely pronounced Rerugen, but… this isn’t him. Rerugen has dark hair and brown eyes… and if I’m going to be honest, a fairly unfortunate haircut too. This guy looks too normal to be Rerugen.”

Degurechaff One immediately disagrees, “What are you even talking about? Lergen’s always had blonde hair and blue eyes.”

The second one backs her up, “Yeah, I agree this is definitely the right sort of coloration, but… now that I’m looking at him, Rerugen is supposed to be more handsome than this.”

“Handsome?! Has Being X poisoned your brain that badly?” Number Three yells at Number Two.

Two snaps back at her immediately, “That’s not what I meant at all, and you should know that! I meant by conventional standards! You know, stronger jawline, sharper features!”

Did— did she just say he was ugly?

Before the other two start arguing, the first one cuts them off, “Hold on. Are we sure we’re all talking about the same person here? Maybe you both are thinking of someone else, this is Colonel Erich von Lergen, my superior, formerly a part of Personnel, but now he works in Operations in the General Staff. He’s been looking out for me for a while now. For example, he made an effort to keep me off the frontlines, and when I was stationed in the southeast, he gave me a preliminary warning that Dacia would invade. Things like that. He’s a very good superior. Does any of that seem familiar?”

“Ah… that does seem to match up with who I was thinking of. I wonder why he’s so different from what I know…”

Now that Erich’s kind of over the shock now, he’s a bit tired of being talked about like he isn’t here. Interrupting the conversation between them, he finally speaks, “Degurechaff… what is going on here?”

All three seem to remember that Erich is actually here and a part of the conversation suddenly. They turn back to look at him, but none of them seem to really know what to say, faces varying shades of hesitation, confusion, or irritation.

The way they act and carry themselves is… actually slightly different. Looking closer at them, maybe it’s only that there’s one Degurechaff and two extremely close doppelgängers? If he studies them, yes they’re close enough to be siblings, but there’s differences between each.

The first one is the one he recognizes, the one who looks as he expects her to and also is getting his name and appearance correct. She’s just the slightest bit taller than the other two, but it’s a marginal thing. She’s paler than the other two in all aspects, a corpse-like pallor to her skin, hair colored platinum blonde, and eyes the color of ice. When he meets her gaze, it’s easy to tell her apart. It’d be impossible to mistake those disconcerting eyes that look a bit dead, or perhaps look like she’d want everyone around her dead if it’d bring her a bit of peace. So this one he mentally categorizes as ‘Original Degurechaff,’ or perhaps more accurately ‘The Degurechaff That I Know.’

The second one that he heard speak— the one who had called him ugly?— is the smallest of the three. Of course, Degurechaff has always been small, but this one beats the other two. Actually, she even looks younger than the others, if that was even possible, and honestly she kind of acts like it as well. She has shorter, curlier hair than the others, and it’s much brighter in color— much closer to gold than platinum blonde. Compared to the one he knows, she seems more… emotive, perhaps the best word for it is. So this one has to be ‘Little Degurechaff’ or something to that effect.

The third one is about a midpoint between the two in hair color and stature, though her hair is a right mess. A prominent flyaway sticks out of the top of her head, refusing to lay flat. Framed by pale lashes, her eyes are a more vibrant blue than either of the others, but they’re just as cold-looking and tense. He wouldn’t call any Degurechaff patient, but this one gives him the impression she’s much more irritable than the others. Her uniform is also starkly different from the other two, who are almost matching, but all three carry a recognizable Silver Wings Badge. This one… perhaps he should denote her as the ‘Irritable Degurechaff’? She’s always been irritable, though, hasn’t she?

The designations are a start, but still he has to wonder... Why? Why is this happening?

Ah, hold on. Is that it? Is this a punishment from God, specifically designed to torment me?

[lilypadlys]

Haircuts make Dew uncomfortable.

A product of his element transition was that his hair got badly singed and most of the length had to be cut off. Dew loved his platinum blonde, practically white hair. Took immaculate care of it. Adored its body and how it rippled like water. And suddenly it was burnt and matted and gone. Then to add insult to injury, even after it grew back it became a harvest gold.

Dew hates it at first. No matter how much Aether and Mountain insist that his hair is prettier than ever, that it suits him so well, he hates it. At first, he wears it back and under hats and beanies, refusing to deal with it. Eventually it gets so bad though that he tries to bleach it. Unfortunately the bleach further trashes his already damaged hair and he has to get it cut short all over again.

His packmates know he needs help but they aren’t sure what to do. Compliments and affirmations are all well and good but they don't really help. Doesn’t fix it. He knows his packmates mean well but he can’t really take their words to heart.

Then one day, Cumulus asks Dew for his help with doing her hair. Says she’s trimming it to avoid split ends and could he help her with the back sections? He agrees and helps her out. He helps her straighten her hair so she can trim it, then helps her work in product afterwards to help it regain its curl. Then she asks if he would like her to do his.

He refuses immediately. His hair has just gotten back to a couple inches below shoulder length, still too short for his liking, and even an end trim seems like too much. She doesn’t take offense though, just nods and changes the subject; has him pick what scent of hair mask she should use next.

And then next time she does her hair, she has him help her decide how to style it; braids or in space buns. And the time after that if she should cut it all short for summer. He immediately gasps at the thought, and waxes poetic about how pretty her hair is until they’re both giggling. And then he regards his own tangled mane in the mirror.

He asks in a quiet voice if he can borrow her hair scissors. She agrees, handing them over and watching him carefully. He brings the scissors up to the ends of his hair, but he stops. Freezes. He can’t do it.

“Would you like me to help?” She asks gently.

He hesitates and then nods, passing the scissors back over. She gestures for him to sit on the edge of the tub and stands behind him.

“I’m just going to get the ends, alright? Just to help your hair be a bit less tangled. Is that okay?”

He nods, not trusting his voice.

She brushes through his hair gently, mindful of the tangles. Asks one more time if he’s okay with this. When he nods again she wraps a towel around him. She works as quickly as she can while still being careful to make sure everything is even. When she’s done, she sets the scissors aside and uses her air magic to sweep the cut ends of his hair away into the trashcan and out of sight. Then she brushes through his hair again and grabs the curling iron.

“Okay if I style it a little?”

“Sure.” Dew shrugs noncommittally.

An ironic perk of Dew’s hair now is that it’s a lot more fire resistant. Still Cumulus is careful not to turn the iron on too hot and risk burning herself. She uses it to add a slight wave to Dew’s hair before finally letting him look.

Dew gets up and shyly glances at himself in the mirror, eyes going wide once he does. Even though it’s not perfect, there’s still damaged ends left from lack of regular care, Dew has to admit that it looks a lot better. Cumulus had to take about three inches off but as he runs a hand through it and doesn’t get caught on a rats nest of tangled ends he sighs in relief. The slight wave has the corner of his mouth quirking up even as he begins to blink rapidly.

“Feel a little bit better?” Cumulus asks.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

They both ignore how Dew’s voice cracks a little. Cumulus definitely doesn’t notice that dampness around Dew’s eyes. She busies herself cleaning up while Dew turns away and rubs his eyes.

“If you’re up for it, I know what might really help. A nice deep shampooing and conditioning will go a long way towards helping maintain your hair. You can use my stuff and I’ll even help you wash if you want.”

Dew knows how protective over her hair products Cumulus is. The fact that she’s offering makes him smile. He nods.

“Thank you.”

Cumulus gets the both of them ensconced in the tub, Dew using his magic to keep the water steamy while Cumulus massages shampoo through his hair. The way her claws gently card over his scalp has him purring in no time despite the stress he’d been feeling. By the time she’s rinsing the conditioner, she practically has to hold him up so he doesn’t fall asleep right there in the bath. After, she helps him stand and wraps him in her fluffiest towel before wrapping a smaller towel around his head to dry his hair.

“Why don’t you get some comfy clothes and I’ll get a nest ready. Sounds good?”

“Uh huh.” Dew’s too worn out and sleepy to fuss about being taken care of.

He dutifully pads off to his room to change and Cumulus makes good on her promise and sets up a blanket and pillow nest. She’s just fluffing the last pillow when Dew returns in an oversized tee and sleep shorts, and mostly dry hair. Without complaint, he hops up on the bed and sinks into the blankets with a happy chirp. Cumulus finishes drying her own hair, changes into pajamas and joins him.

“Okay if I braid your hair? It’ll help with tangles and it’ll be wavy in the morning.”

“Kay.” He murmurs, already drifting off. She giggles and retrieves her brush from her nightstand. Dew is fast asleep before she even ties the braid off with a silk scrunchie.

[everydayyoulovemeless]

FO4 companions attempting to give Sole a haircut but they fuck it up really bad? I just got back from a horrible hairdresser visit and I need the cope

Fo4 Companions Accidentally Giving Sole A Bad Haircut

➼ Word Count » 0.8k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Platonic/Romantic, Hurt/Comfort? ➼ A/N » It's been a few months since you've requested this so I'm praying you're feeling better now!

You know MacCready messed something up when he begins chuckling nervously, rests a shaky hand on your shoulder, and starts talking way more than usual. He tries to stall you looking in the mirror for as long as possible but, when you eventually do, he’s biting his fist in awkwardness. He won’t lie, this is not his best work, but he never promised perfection. Nevertheless, he feels awful for what he’s done and will let you wear his hat to cover it until it grows back.

Nick will tell you flat out when he messes it up. He'll sigh apologetically, saying he should've just waited to have Ellie cut it or, I don't know, taking you to Kathy and John's Super Salon, right across the street from his agency. He doesn't do anything more to it and takes you straight to the salon to see if you can't salvage it. He feels awful about it, and will never touch your hair again.

Cait knows she isn't going to do a good job with it, but she doesn't tell you that and agrees to cut it anyway. Normally, when she wants to cut her hair, she'll just take any shape object she can get a hold of and start chopping away, and that's exactly what she does with you. She'll sit you down, pull out a pocket knife, and slice whole chunks off at a time. The worst part is that she's got no shame in it.

Preston will gasp quietly and cover his mouth with his hand. He refuses to move and will just stand there, completely still until you ask him what's wrong. He doesn't even know where to begin telling you how badly he's messed up and will instead, just apologize, rest his hands on the back of your shoulders, and rub reassuring circles into them with his thumbs. There are plenty of generals who don't have good hair! Nothing to fret over!

Codsworth will let out a silent 'Oh dear' and turn his buzzsaw off. Eventually, he'll begin reminding you of a separate time when you'd come back from the barber with you're hair all fucked, before explaining that he did exactly that. He tries to be light-hearted about it, but he's just as devastated as you are, possibly even more. He's a Mr. Handy, for Godsake! And he can't even do the basics!

Piper isn't even subtle about it. She'll just immediately begin comparing it to Atomites she's met through investigative journalism. She'll tell you that she's just giving you the 'wasteland special' and you shouldn't feel too upset about it. There are loads of people with this style! So, cheer up! It'll grow back!

Curie doesn't even realize she's messed anything up. In her opinion, any hairstyle any person has looks good. She doesn't quite understand the emotional attachment many people have toward it and just cuts it really short to help with mobility and whatnot. When you explain it to her, however, she starts to feel really guilty and will apologize nonstop.

Strong will just shave you bald. Now you look like him! What's there to be upset over? No support whatsoever from him.

Hancock will also just cut it with his knife, although, he's a lot more sympathetic than Cait. He'll hug you out of remorse and tell you it could be worse. You could be a ghoul and have no hair at all! Look at him! He can't even grow hair anymore so, don't feel too bad about it, alright?

Deacon will immediately fall to the ground in a squat, head in his hands as he simultaneously tries not to laugh or cry. He's cut his own hair so many times before with no issue - he cuts everyone in the Railroad's hair! - and it shatters him to know that he messed up on a craft he thought he perfected. He's supposed to be good at this! After a moment, he'll stand again and find you a wig in his collection for you to keep until your hair grows back. At least now the two of you can be wig buddies? Yay?

X6-88 will hum in defeat when he's messed it up before saying that he told you you should've gone to someone who actually knows how to cut hair. He can't comfort you for shit and probably just blames you for asking for help from someone who can't cut hair.

Old Longfellow knows how to cut hair. So, if he's messed it up, it means he was drunk. But, hey! Now you have a story to tell the folks at The Last Plank! So, he'll take you straight there so you can, hopefully, drink it off and laugh with the other regulars about it. No harm done!

Gage will tell you straight out that he's fucked it up badly, but he's not that concerned with it. If you seem upset, he'll just shrug and tell you it's not as bad as some of the other raiders in this place. If it bothers you that much, though, he'll get you a helmet for you to wear for the time being. It's safer for you anyway.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Silver

Bleeding in Moonlight: Chapter One | Chapter Two |

CW: Some brief moments of dehumanization, referenced captivity and torture, referenced death/murder

-

“I have no idea where we’re even going.” 

Eden flexed his fingers, stretching them out and then closing them back around the steering wheel. His head felt like it was full of wet cotton, heavy and soft and soaking into every wrinkle of his brain. 

Apparently driving on two hours of sleep wasn’t the best way to handle these things. Not that they had a choice. Well, they did have a choice, but Anaya wasn’t about to let him make it. She was determined to keep going as long as they could.

“Just drive east,” She said, as if she could hear him thinking. “We have a full tank of gas, we can go for hours.”

“Hours?” He couldn’t quite suppress the way his voice sounded pouting, a toddler throwing a tantrum in the middle of a store. He took a deep breath and tried to straighten his spine.

Still, every pothole, bump in the road, or swerving too-tight turn brought an answering whimper or soft whine from the back and Eden’s nerves were fraying more every single time. 

His heart twisted at the simple sounds of pain, sure - he knew it had to hurt like hell, lying there with a stitched-up leg and only some expired hydrocodone from an old surgery Eden had had years ago for the pain, but Eden’s own head was throbbing with a lack of sleep, his eyes felt hot and dry, and a muscle in his jaw had begun to twitch as he kept grinding his teeth.

He had to push down the urge to snap at the boy to quiet down. It wasn’t his fault, Eden knew it wasn’t, but the anger still rose with every pulse of his heartbeat he could feel behind his eyes.

Added to all the other bullshit about today, they were in the middle of nowhere, a good hour from the next place Eden could think of to even grab half-decent coffee. They needed to find somewhere where they could park, somewhere nobody would look in the back and then ask about a thousand increasingly uncomfortable but honestly really understandable questions about the naked teenage boy back there.

The naked teenage boy covered in scars and wrapped in blankets, who badly needed a haircut and a hamburger and who hadn't spoken a fucking word since they started driving.

“Not too many. Four more hours of driving would get us to Missoula,” Anaya said, a little distracted, looking down at her phone. “I have a friend we could crash with there. Vanessa… she has an extra room, she says. Yeah. Four hours and twenty minutes to Missoula and then we can spend a couple days figuring this out-”

“Anaya.”

She blinked and looked over at him. “What?”

“We absolutely cannot take him to Missoula.” Eden had the urge to drop his head into his hands even as he made his careful way on the winding road, the darkly forested mountains they had been camping in rising high and dagger-edged behind them. Like they were angry at them taking the boy out of the woods and towards civilization.

Well, that was a weird thing to think.

“Of course we can,” Anaya said, frowning, puzzled. 

“No. We can’t. Missoula is in Montana."

"Yeah, I'm aware. But it's also only four hours away."

"Going to Missoula... that is a full on crazy idea, Naya, and you know it.”

“I don’t know it. Why exactly is that crazy?” Anaya, bristling, set her phone down and twisted around in her seat to look back at the blanket lump behind them that was Misae, whose eyes were closed even as his expression was pinched with pain. “We all need sleep, right? All three of us do. Vanessa won’t ask too many questions.”

“If we show up with him, she probably should!”

“Why?”

“Anaya, for God’s sake… Taking a minor across state lines is fucking kidnapping!”

“Sure, if we had kidnapped him, but we didn’t! Somebody else did!”

“Okay, first of all, that isn’t how kidnapping works. We’re not playing fucking flag football with a human being. Also, we don’t know that he was kidnapped at all!”

“He said his family is dead! That means he was kidnapped by whoever killed them!”

“We. Don’t. Know. That. It just means they’re dead, it doesn’t say anything about how they died or how he ended up where he is. You’re… you’re just guessing at things we can’t prove, that might not even be true!”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Her voice sharpened.

His own voice rose in response, louder than he intended. “He might have lied to us or something!” 

The boy in the back flinched, hands moving to cover his head, visible as a sudden shift in the rearview mirror. Misae groaned, muttering something to himself. Eden’s chest twisted in dismay as he realized there was a tiny spot of red starting to show through the blanket, which meant the poor kid had started bleeding through his bandages at some point. He needed them changed. Eden must not have done a good enough job putting pressure on the wound. The stitches were doing their best, but Eden’s first aid kit wasn’t great, and stitching someone up in the woods in a hurry was never going to work well anyway. He needed to redo the stitches, hopefully after a few hours of sleep and with steadier hands. Guilt prickled. “Sorry... I'm sorry, man. I don’t really think that you’re lying, exactly, it’s just… Maybe you told us what you thought we needed to hear so we’d help you. I’d honestly understand if you did.”

“Eden!” Anaya smacked at his shoulder. “You can’t just accuse him of lying!”

“I’m not trying to be accusing! I’m just trying to keep us from getting thrown in prison. Taking a minor over state lines isn’t just illegal, it’s a felony. We do not have enough knowledge about this situation right now to commit felonies for total strangers, even if they are bleeding all over my backseat!”

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “You took out the backseat.”

“... please don’t do that thing where you nitpick everything I say because you’re mad at me even though you know I’m right.”

Anaya opened her mouth, then closed it and looked away. "Yeah, okay." For Anaya, that was a white flag raised high. 

He took the truce she offered gladly. “Okay, so, we don’t know him well enough to commit a felony on his behalf, even though he’s bleeding all over my trunk.”

She relaxed a little - his acknowledgement of the nitpick was his way of flying a white flag, too. Then she sighed. “Well…” Anaya trailed off, then turned back around and looked at the road ahead as if it were personally offensive to her. “Okay, I can see your point. Maybe… maybe you’re right about this. Still, we don’t even know he’s from Idaho at all, he might have already been taken over state lines? We’re… there’s no way we’re the bad guys for helping him, is there?”

“No, I didn’t say that. I don’t think we are, and I absolutely agree that he needs help. I’m just… I’m just too tired to think straight about this, or maybe I’d have a better idea of what we should do. We need to stop so I can nap, so we can all nap. Yeah?”

“Fair enough.” Anaya tipped her head back against her seat, her black hair spilling in messy waves all around her shoulders and down to her ribcage. The clear light of morning turned her skin  Eden fell in love all over again.

He usually did, every time he looked at her. 

“Naptime for everybody,” She said, a little dreamily. “Sounds good. Does that sound good to you, too, Misae?”

The boy had to hear them, they weren’t keeping their voices particularly low, but he didn’t answer. He was lying down in the back of the car, everything but his injured leg curled up as tightly as he could get, existing in a kind of numb silence. 

Shock, Eden had thought at first. Now his mind skipped back to the sight of the scars the kid was covered in, and he wondered if he just was too used to being hurt and simply didn't think this kind of thing was worth even remarking on. Or... maybe he was used to getting hurt worse if he spoke up about the pain. Maybe it had been safer to be silent.

Still... at least the kid seemed to be getting some sleep. He'd clearly dozed on and off for most of the drive. He didn’t even seem to be listening to them now, when they were specifically talking about him. 

When Eden checked the mirror, all he saw was that reddish-brown hair with gray scattered throughout, sticking out like a puffball above the blankets he’d curled himself up beneath, which Eden did not allow himself to think was cute. The red stain on the blanket - was it a little bigger than the last time he’d looked?

Shit.

“Right." He hummed, changing lanes. "Also, not to like harp on this or anything, but… what if somebody’s still looking for him?”

Anaya’s thoughtful frown deepened. “He said that his family-”

“Is dead, no, I know he said that. I’m not talking about family, not exactly. But that guy with the gun, he said something about finding bodies on their land before, remember? Like this isn’t the first time. And he was clearly hunting that wolf. So… would they just give up looking?”

Anaya’s worry had her thumb shifting upwards, until she was absently nipping at her thumbnail, catching it between top and bottom teeth and worrying at a torn spot of skin along her cuticle. “I don’t know. I guess I figured they would, if he wasn’t on their land anymore, but…” 

Eden sighed, half-smiling as he reached out and put a hand over hers, pulling it back down and holding tight. “Stop that, baby.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Stop eating your hand,” Eden said, with long-suffering affection. Her fingers twined into his and he gave a short squeeze. She squeezed back.

“Eden, seriously, I’m not eating my-” Naya glanced down at her thumb, the nail already torn at one corner. She smiled a little. “Oh. I guess I was. Well, anyway, we should still help him, right? We can’t just leave some kid to bleed to death alone. If we don’t go to Missoula, what do we do next?”

“I honestly… I don’t know.” He had to pull his hand back - this road was way too full of curves to be safe to drive one-handed - but the simple gestures, old habits long built between them, settled his racing heart a little. He and Anaya had been together since before he’d dropped out of his residency, even, as friends at first and then they had realized more or less at the same time that 'just friends' had started being more without either of them noticing it. The memory of their simultaneous attempts to officially ask each other out, awkward and sweet, made everything about the day seem suddenly a little easier to handle. He took a deep breath. “I’m just saying that we don’t know anything about this kid, except that he got shot and he’s running from somebody named Bill.”

“We also know that he’s a werewolf,” Anaya pointed out. When Eden didn’t respond, she frowned, narrowing her eyes at him. Eden chanced a glance sidelong so he could see it - her squinty eyes always made her adorable, even if she’d get really, really mad if he told her that.

She saw him thinking it anyway.

Her eyes narrowed even more, but the corner of her mouth twitched upwards. “Eden Yarrow, you quit that.” Anaya hissed, badly hiding the smile that kept trying to creep over her, “This is not me joking. He’s a werewolf! You saw him being a wolf! We both saw that he’s a werewolf!”

“No, we didn’t. We definitely saw a wolf. We’re agreed on that. Then, later, we saw a kid hiding under my car. Two totally different events that happened literally hours apart.” He paused, letting the silence draw out. The radio droned in and out of whatever stations it could pick up this far away from anything at all. He winced when he heard a scrap of a sermon. The sound was too familiar not to feel like ghosts haunting him down to the bone, the echo of his father’s own thundering disappointment. “We don’t, technically speaking, actually know that they’re even related events.”

Anaya didn’t respond, but the sheer weight of her answering stare burned hot against his right cheek. He could have seen it with his eyes closed. He was vaguely afraid he’d end up with some kind of burn as a result.

Eden tried to wait her out. The silence drew out. The radio played part of a hip-hop song and then went back to static. 

Naya had always been better at the quiet game, though, and after only a couple of minutes he gave up trying and just sighed. “Okay, I admit it would be a really big coincidence-”

“Yeah, I’d say it would be one hell of a coincidence!” She drew the word out, gave it syllables it didn’t even have. “I mean, sure, it’s a coincidence, in the same way that Batman and Bruce Wayne are coincidentally never seen in the same room at the same time-”

“Don’t you bring Batman into this.”

“Fine. Clark Kent and Superman, then.”

“Now you’re just listing every superhero.”

“Look, if you want to play this game, I could do this for days. We’ll die of dehydration before I run out of superheroes and their secret identities.”

He didn’t know if she looked as smug as she sounded, but he knew if he looked he’d start laughing and this whole conversation would be a wash.

“... Fine. Yeah, okay, you win. I’ll accept it. Werewolves are real. Men who turn into fucking wolves on the full moon, totally real. Oh, and cherry on top of the sundae, there’s one in the back of my car right now. Pure insanity, but sure.”

“Insanity. Right. But wouldn't you-... wouldn't-" The corner of her mouth twitched upwards again. She muttered under her breath, and had to put her hands up over her face. Her shoulders shook a little.

Eden sighed. His headache was getting worse. Even his arms felt weirdly heavy. They passed a road sign advertising a rest stop coming up, and he shifted into the right lane, not bothering with a turn signal. There was nobody but them and a handful of tractor trailers and like two other cars on the road right now anyway. “What?”

Anaya shook her head. She still had her hands over her mouth. “You won’t like it.”

“Why not? Just tell me. What’s so damn funny?”

“Would you say it's insanity... or..." She said, her voice slightly cracked with suppressed laughter. “Eden. Listen. Wouldn't it more accurately be... lunacy? Get it? Like the moon? Lunacy? Werewolves and the m-”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Eden muttered. “Isn’t the guy in the relationship supposed to do the stupid dad jokes? Anaya, I am not laughing.”

“Hi, Not Laughing, I’m Anaya.” She threw her head back, the sound of her laughter bouncing around the inside of the car. A little delirious with her own exhaustion. It made Eden feel warm to hear it, even as he heard the boy in the back shift around for the first time. In the mirror, he caught sight of those unsettling light brown eyes, glinting gold with reflected sun, as the kid lifted his head enough to stare at Anaya like she’d grown four new arms. 

Wolf eyes.

He had to admit it.

The kid did not have human eyes at all. 

He took the exit for the rest stop, relieved to break eye contact. It had felt almost like a physical weight, demanding to be recognized even though the kid remained quiet. 

He was unsurprised to see a few semi trucks already parked alongside three regular cars. A small family sat eating what was clearly a kind of picnic breakfast at a small table in the morning sunlight. Another man had a dog on a leash sniffing around the edges of a trash can.

The boy must have seen the man with the dog, too. He made a sound, low in his throat, shifting over to get a better look through the backseat window. The sound he made was like a rumble, eyes laser focused on the man and his dog, and suddenly the mess of his hair seemed almost to stick out more than it had before. He shifted as Eden’s car passed by the two, his injured leg dragging a little as he tried to kneel, hands against the glass. 

Eden pulled into a parking spot at the very end of the row, as far away from anyone else as he could get, and just sat there, blinking. Then the nature of the sound seemed to suddenly make itself clear to him all at once. “What the hell? Dude, are you trying to growl? Anaya, he’s growling. Like a-”

“Wolf?” Anaya asked the question in a tone of pure and perfect innocence. When Eden glanced at her, her eyebrows were raised nearly to her hairline. “Would you say it was a wolflike sound, there, Eden? Canine, perhaps?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” He snapped, but his heart wasn’t in it. Anaya reached out to take his hand, pulling his knuckles to her lips to kiss them, one by one. He found himself relaxing until his head dropped back against the headrest. The world swam in front of him, the trees that lined the rest stop shifting in and out of focus.

God, he needed some sleep. 

Anaya yawned, Eden yawned - and then, in the back, he heard the unmistakable sound of Misae yawning, too. Anaya rolled her shoulders, then shifted to open the door and step out. “I’m going to go check and see if this place has one of those coffee vending machines. You want anything?”

“Granola bar or protein bar, if they got one. Also coffee. Not that it'll do much good. Anything for you?” He looked back at the mirror again when there wasn’t an answer. “Hey. Wolfboy.”

Misae looked away from him. Eden could read his expression well enough, though. He looked… hurt. His shoulders slumped, inching up towards his chin, and he sat back down. 

Anaya frowned. “I think we just insulted him.”

“Oh.” Eden cleared his throat. “Uh… Misae. Is ‘wolfboy’ bad? Not a good nickname?”

The boy’s eyes dropped down as he licked at his lips, taking in a deep breath and then slowly letting it out. His eyes cut off to one side, refusing to look back. An uncomfortable, heavy silence weighed all of them down. 

Just as Eden was about to give up waiting for him to speak and tell Anaya to go on and get the food, Misae cleared his throat. His words came out halting and hesitant, speaking slowly. “It’s fine. Just water, please.”

Anaya nodded. “You got it. Any food for you? You’ve got to be hungry by now, right?”

Misae didn’t respond this time, no matter how long they waited. He just blinked. 

Anaya sighed and then shrugged at Eden. “I’ll get him something,” She said, voice low, and then walked away, the car closing gently behind her. Misae watched her go, eyebrows furrowing a little in something like worry. The two men watched Anaya disappear into the rest stop building.

After a couple of minutes had passed, Misae whined. The tone was a little different than it had been before - not pain, but… concern. It was a deeply familiar sound, one Eden had heard a hundred times in his life or more. 

“Oh, stop it, she’s coming right back.” 

Silence from the back. 

Eden caught himself, and then made a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh. Even he wasn’t sure which he meant to do. “Sorry. I know you’re not a dog.”

"Was... shifted, for too long. Can't remember which I am sometimes."

"Oh. Uh... Sorry?"

Silence.

Eden sighed. “Boy, you are not a talker, huh.”

The quiet drew out for a while longer. Eden’s mind wandered, and he found himself picking up the silver bullet, turning it in circles so he could run his fingers over the markings carved into it. They looked almost like… runes. Only not like them at all. But the idea was the same - symbols drawn in straight lines and dots, the occasional half-circle curve. Some of them had been partly obliterated by being fired into a human being - or not a human being, maybe, at least not all the way - but he could still get a sense for them by running his fingers over the curves of the thing. 

It felt oddly heavy in his hands. When he tipped it to one side and then the other, something seemed to shift inside it. Was it full of buckshot? It was a miracle it hadn’t filled the kid’s body with shrapnel. If it had broken apart the way Eden had thought it would…

Well, sewing up the wound wouldn't have been enough to save him.

His lips pressed together into a line. Then, he turned to look back at Misae, who was watching Eden and the bullet, his eyes locked with unconcealed dread on the way the silver glinted in the sunlight. Eden’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Hey.”

Brown-gold eyes flicked to his, then back to the silver. 

“Will you hold this for me?” Eden held the bullet out, only to watch with wide eyed as Misae flinched violently backwards, crying out in pain as his injured leg was forced into motion. He stopped only when his back was pressed against the back windshield. He had to clutch at the blankets and pull them back up to cover himself, but briefly all his scarred-up nakedness, the parade of bruises in various stages of healing all over his body, the mix of uneven welts and sharp, perfect straight lines of damaged skin were all on terrible display.

Eden looked nervously out the windows, but nobody seemed to have noticed them. Good. The idea of having to explain what Misae doing in his car was... not even scary, just something so exhausting he couldn't even stand to think about it. He dropped the bullet back into the cupholder. “Silver really freaks you out, huh?”

Misae slowly nodded, but he didn’t relax or move back close. “Bad,” He said, hoarsely. “It’s bad.”

“Silver is bad? Like, it hurts you? Like mythology?"

“It hurts.” Misae’s chin jerked down in the nod, and he crossed his arms in front of himself. His face was pale, white under the darkened freckles. “It… burns me, cuts me, doesn’t heal.”

“It doesn’t heal?” Eden thought of the wound that was still, somehow, bleeding even though he’d stitched it up and bandaged it heavily. “Like, ever?”

“If it comes out, it will. Different then.” Misae’s shoulders hunched near his ears and he looked down, hair falling forward to shadow his eyes. “Heals too slowly. Always scars. I don’t… like to see silver.”

“Oh. Uh… sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t think… that it would scare you like that, but that makes sense. Hey, about earlier… do they call you that? The, uh, the people… where you’ve been living? Do they call you ‘wolfboy’? Is that why it bugged you when I said it?”

Another long pause. Speaking with Misae felt like dropping a coin into a well and having to wait way too long before you hear it splash. Eventually, those narrow shoulders shrugged. “Sometimes they call me that. Sometimes other things.”

“Other things?”

“Worse things.”

“Like what?”

Misae looked at him through shaggy bangs, lips thinning.

“Yeah… okay. You probably don’t want to just tell me the nasty bits, you barely know me.” Eden sighed, leaning over until his forehead touched the steering wheel, closing his eyes. He wondered if he’d just… doze off, if he kept them shut for too long. He started talking just to try and keep himself awake. “This has been… the weirdest day, man. I have a werewolf in my car. An injured werewolf. An injured teenage werewolf.” With his level of exhaustion, it suddenly seemed like a reasonable possibility. Sure, why wouldn’t there be werewolves? Why not? Why wouldn’t there be a werewolf with knobby elbows and long legs in the back of his stupid old car? 

Maybe Bigfoot was out there, too, and they’d catch him hitchhiking. Or fucking little green aliens in flying saucers. Why the hell not? Or even vampires, maybe. 

Maybe they’d find a vampire staked through the wrong part of their chest next with a thumb out for a ride and have to take them on a road trip, too. Like a fucked-up road trip movie. Maybe he’d walk into a fairy circle of mushrooms one morning and vanish, never to be seen again. Or wake up in three hundred years the same age he was when he went to sleep, or…

Maybe all of it was real, legends and myth. Maybe he didn’t notice because he’d never tried to read between the lines of reality before. 

If he was having thoughts like that, he desperately needed sleep. He had to force down a half-hysterical giggle and make himself focus on his next train of thought. It was getting more difficult to think at all. “The guy who shot you. The one we saw in the woods. Who is that?”

Pause. “Austin.”

“... Is Austin one of the people… you live with?”

“Sort of.”

“What… what does ‘sort of’ mean?” God, it was like pulling teeth that just kept growing deeper roots every time he asked a question, fighting harder to give him nothing. Kid didn’t exactly make himself easy to rescue, now did he?

No. That wasn’t fair. He’d gotten right into the car, he’d let Eden and Anaya drive him away without protest. He just… didn’t seem to find it easy to speak. 

“Austin lives in the house.”  

“Where do you live?”

Silence again, other than the soft sound of Misae breathing. 

Did he not want to answer? Or did he not know what Eden was asking, not pick up on it? Maybe he thought Eden was making fun of him somehow. Eden frowned, trying to think, to reword the question. “I’m asking seriously. Did you not live in the house? Where did you sleep? Come on. Talk to me, I’m trying to understand.”

Misae shrugged again. “Outside.”

That seemed to be all Misae was willing to give him. 

Eden listened as the boy behind him just laid back down against the back of the car, hissing through his teeth at the pain in his stitched-up leg. Eden glanced back in time to see him cover himself until even his hair vanished beneath the layers of quilted cotton blankets. Just an unmoving lump with a red splotch near the bottom. 

The boy was literally hiding from having to continue the conversation.

“Okay, guess we’re done with that, then,” Eden muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. His stubble was scratchy under his palms along his jaw, and the sensation sent a warmth through him. Felt pretty damn good, even though he knew it would drive him crazy if he didn’t get a chance to shave in the next couple of days.  

He decided, glutton for punishment that he was, to try one more time. “Are these people going to keep looking for you, even though we got you off their land?” After a long pause, he let his frustration bleed into his tone, and stopped trying to gentle it. “Just fucking answer me, okay, man? Are the people who shot you going to keep looking for you now?”

Misae’s muffled voice came, barely audible from under the blankets. “Yes.”

“What happens if they find you?”

Silence.

“God damn it, kid-”

“Containment!” Misae’s voice trembled, now, enough for Eden to hear it. The word seemed forced from him against his will, spat out like poison. He wondered suddenly if he wasn’t hiding from the conversation itself, but trying to hide his tears from view. Ashamed or even afraid of his own emotions. “Quarantine.”

A pit opened somewhere between Eden’s chest and his stomach. He shivered, despite the warmth of the sun shining on him through the window. Goosebumps raised on his arms until he rubbed at them with one hand. “What?” 

He glanced over at the rest stop building and saw Anaya through the glass doors. She stood off to one side at the vending machines, choosing something, looking down at her phone while she waited.

“Been in quarantine so he could fix us. But… but I left.” Misae hitched in an uneven breath, a whine at the edge of his exhale. Twisting canine noise into human speech. “Left.”

“Why did you leave?”

Misae looked to the side, his hopelessness a heavy weight in the car, pressing the both of them down. “Bill decided no one would ever get better. Can’t be fixed.”

“What does that mean? ‘Getting better?’” 

“Not… becoming. We might still hurt people. Make them sick, too."

“... You hurt people?”

“I… I didn’t mean to…” Misae licked at his lips again, looking away and then back, and Eden had trouble with the combination of a very human body echoing very canine traits over and over again. 

“So you were… kept in quarantine to keep you from hurting people?”

"From making them sick."

"... oh."

Eden felt like the next pause between sentences like a hammer bashing at his brain. His heart beat too hard. He looked up and saw Anaya heading back their way, a coffee in each hand, somehow balancing a water bottle between her arm and her side and with protein bars stuffed in her pockets. He swallowed, feeling a surreal and completely pointless urge to tell her to stay away. Get out, run, get help.

To what? Save him from the exhausted, frightened, injured boy in the back who clearly couldn’t have hurt a fly in his current state? The thought was ridiculous. Misae was the epitome of fucking harmless. 

Bill, whoever he was, was clearly a liar.

Then again… Eden thought of the wolf racing in the moonlight, stumbling through their campsite. 

In the end, Misae was the first one to speak again. He just said, voice flat, “Silver was supposed to fix us. Make us safe. But Bill said it wasn’t enough. It’s… it’s like rabies.”

“What’s like rabies?”

"The bite."

Eden cleared his throat. “Okay, so… that’s why you’re on your own? Because of what this Bill guy said about it not being treatable? So you ran away?"

Misae’s throat moved, adam’s apple shifting up and down. His lips twisted into something like a snarl before he closed his eyes tightly. He pulled one knee to his chest, the injured leg still stuck out straight, and closed his arms around it, hiding most of his face. His shoulders shook, and the tears in his voice couldn’t be hidden no matter how soft and hoarse he kept his words.

“I thought I did a good enough job pretending."

A pause.

“I didn’t know Austin would see me when I climbed out of it.”

“Out of what?”

“... The hole.”

Eden stared sightlessly ahead, feeling somehow like it would be easier for Misae if he wasn't looking. His heart beat hard and ice pushed through his veins. "The hole?"

"We were all buried together. I had to wait. I was... I was the only one who climbed out of the... it was a g-grave..." Misae began to cry, sobs shaking thin shoulders, hoarse rasping sobs that filled the whole space inside the little car.

Anaya returned, balancing coffee and water and granola bars stuffed into her pockets. She opened the car door and then froze, staring. Her eyes went from Misae to Eden. "What-... what happened while I was gone?"

Eden felt like his own eyes were too wide, ringed in white, when he met her gaze.

"We, uh." He cleared his throat. "Get in. You were right. Let's stop to sleep in Missoula."

-

@finder-of-rings @burtlederp @scoundrelwithboba @shrimpwritings

[atlasscrumpit]

Bucky x Reader

Haircut

You were in your room in the tower, cleaning up.

Sunday's were always quietand you took the chance to tidy up and have some time alone.

You heard a knock at your door and opened it to see Bucky with chunks of his hair cut out.

"What happened to you?" You asked trying to hold back your laughter.

"I tried to cut my own hair..." He grumbled as you bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

"Bucky, would you like some help?" You asked as he looked at you and nodded.

"Why didn't you just ask me in the first place?" You asked dragging a chair into the bathroom and getting him to sit down for you.

"I don't like people touching my hair, I don't like talking when someone is cutting my hair it's just...uncomfortable." He said as you nodded a little and thought for a second.

"Alright, well... How about this?" You asked handing him a set of earphones.

"Put these in and just close your eyes and relax, you don't have to do anything but focus on the music while I give you a hair cut." You said as he took the earphones and sat down.

"I guess that could work." He grumbled as you smiled.

"I'll always keep a hand on you in one way or another so you know I'm here, okay? That way I won't scare you too much if I randomly touch you." You instructed as he nodded and put the earphones in and closed his eyes.

You brought out the scissors and a brush and began to gently trim him hair to the length most of the chucks were.

You moved rather slowly, making sure to not spook him whenever you had to cut a new section.

Once you were done you noticed he was in a completely relaxed state, you chuckled softly before tapping his shoulder and letting him open his eyes.

He took the headphones out and looked at himself in the mirror.

"Wow... I look so different." He muttered as you smiled.

"Good different?" You asked finally seeing a smile creep onto his face.

"Yeah... Good different, I feel like the long hair just reminded me too much of...you know." He muttered as you nodded a little and brushed the hair away from his shoulders.

"Expect Steve to get all emotional, you know he's a baby." You said making him chuckle softly.

He knew Steve would be emotional about something as simple as a haircut, but the more time went on the more Steve could see his old friend coming back.

"He's somehow more emotional then you, and you literally cried about a snail yesterday." He said as you looked at him through the mirror.

"He was so tiny!" You shouted making him laugh and shake his head.

"Yes, I know he was. I was the one to console you when Thor stood on him." He said as you faked cried.

"That giant oaf." You muttered making him laugh again.

"Would you two just date already?" A voice startled you both as you looked behind to see Nat sitting on your bed.

"How long have you been sitting there?" You asked as she shrugged and walked out.

"You know...I always wanted an older sister, Nat makes me regret wishing for that." You said as Bucky stood up and smile, brushing the hair off him.

"I mean...maybe she's right." He muttered, looking down at the ground.

"What do you mean?" You asked, obviously you knew what he was implying but you needed it to be clear.

"The first time we tried it we were both in a terrible place, of course it ended badly... Maybe, we could try again." He said, looking into your eyes as you smiled softly.

"I would really like that actually..." You said noticing his cheeks flush a little.

"How about I take you out on Friday? Dinner, dancing?" He asked making you smile with fondness.

"It's a date."

[hearthown]

Hawthorne Love Languages

Nash : ACTS OF SERVICE

- I can see Nash appreciating acts of service especially stuff like preparing meals, folding his laundry, and just helping him out with stuff in general.

- It was mentioned in TIG that he was badly in need of a haircut so maybe constant reminders about that too 😭 (I'M SURE LIBS CAN CONVINCE HIM)

- Making sure that he takes care of himself / rests as much as he works - I really think he'd appreciate that since he has that nomadic lifestyle and really needs someone to ground him like that (hope it makes sense!)

Grayson : WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

- This man NEEDS to know that he doesn't have to have everything figured out so SOMEONE (ahem) needs to tell him that and knock some sense into him so he doesn't fall into an endless abyss.

- Words matter to him. I know they do.

- He needs someone who won't give up on him no matter how impossible he is, someone who is not afraid to stand up to him and someone whose words can act as a weapon as much as a way of expressing love.

Jameson : PHYSICAL TOUCH

- Do I need to explain? He's a sensation-seeker so cuddles and hugs and kisses are definitely his love language.

- We've seen a lot of his interactions with Avery and they involve physical touch. (Even their tracing game, the one where they draw stuff on each other's hands mentioned in TBH)

- Jameson is someone who needs to FEEL to know that something is real.

Xander : QUALITY TIME, GIFT GIVING

- OMG Xander strikes me as the kind of guy who is superrrrr excited if you tell him you got him a gift plus, he loves surprises.

- Spending quality time such as, building a contraption with him, movie night (STAR WARS), baking(!!!!) are definitely things that make him happy.

- Bantering. Bantering. Bantering. Talking about nonsense while staring into each others eyes. (MAX, I'M LOOKING AT YOU) Burst out laughing as the conversation gets more and more ridiculous.

[jasminerva]

heya, jas~

i have been rereading sakadays, and nagumo's hair looks longer in the early art style compared to the recent one. ever since then, i can't stop thinking about how nagumo would come to us for help in cutting his hair. the bonus comic where rion cut his hair didn't help either haha. he would use it as an excuse to spend time together with us too, and make up lies like 'i don't feel like going to the salon. too noisy there!' when asked why he didn't go to a salon instead.

for him, it could be one of the rare times where he feels more ease. he would chat (and teasing) with you, but i like to imagine him staying silent most of the time to enjoy the rare times he gets to feel peace and safe in your hands. it's just you, him, and the sound of scissors snipping his hair in the background. even if you mess up his hair a little, he wouldn't mind haha.

(edit: sharing these longer-haired Nagumo arts by 2dyongamja, ssaw, kuroiisana)

Yo, Memi~!

It certainly does!!! That's why in ch4 Tenju's comment about how he should get a haircut was a bit of an easter egg XD Maybe he cleaned it up after that huehuehue~

I love rereading SakaDays haha I have a bookmarks folder of all the chapters where Nagumo appears 🙈 FOR RESEARCH! I SWEAR!!!

Omg that bonus / extra was so cute. And showcases how petty Nagumo can be. I can picture it now during their early JCC days.

Thank you for sharing that idea! I loved it so much I wrote something on the fly~

(P.S. I don't know anything about cutting hair. The most I've ever done was cut my own bangs -- badly -- so now I've grown them out lmao.)

Want more? Check out my SakaDays Masterlist!

Comments, reblogs, tags appeachiated~! 🍑

You: A haircut? Didn't Akao give you one a while back? Nagumo: Come on, [f/n]-chan! I need someone more delicate. You: Oh? I see now. You'd rather risk getting your ear cut off than talked off. Nagumo: Ha! You got me there. You: If you want delicate, Tenju's really good. She does all my hair-- Nagumo: No, thanks. With me, I guarantee she'll 'miss' and cut off my head instead. You: Fair enough. (sighs) Fine, what's in it for me though? Nagumo: Brownie points! You: Pass. Nagumo: (pouts) All right, then... a favour! I'll owe you anything! Within reason. You: (narrows eyes) Deal. "Finally, a peaceful haircut," Nagumo muttered under his breath, his body visibly relaxing as your fingers threaded through his hair, the contrasting warmth sending pleasant shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes, leaning back slightly into the chair, allowing you full access. A small sigh escaped Nagumo's lips as he felt your hands working through his hair, the soft snipping of scissors adding to the tranquil atmosphere. He opened his eyes halfway, watching your reflection in the mirror. The sight of your focused expression and the seriousness in your eyes as you concentrated on the task at literal hand stirred something deep within him. As you continued snipping away at his hair, he couldn't resist the urge to tease you. He reached out, his fingers trailing along your wrist. Nagumo retracted his touch as swiftly as he had initiated it, feigning innocence when you shot him a glare through the mirror. Nagumo: (smirks) Careful there, don't wanna end up with bald spots now. You: Don't tempt me. Inwardly, he appreciated that you weren't tempted, instead enjoying the delicate touch of your fingers against his scalp as you worked meticulously.

End note: Can't guarantee how the hair looked afterwards, nor what the favour you end up cashing in is about. It's all up to your...

/ P.S. thanks to @dearsecretlover - I imagine / personally like to think that you / the Reader just left Nagumo's hair out in the wilderness of the JCC campus so birds could make a nest out of it.

Sustainability FTW!

[kurt-hummel-eat-your-heart-out]

Can you write something about the outsiders gang with a trans guy reader whos supper dysphoric. Or maybe coming out to them? I don't know just a thought

Yesss ofc! I decided to go with headcannons bc I can do a little section for each of the boys, I hope that’s okay. I wrote this pre-existing to the book/movie btw.

Transmasc! Reader x The Outsiders gang HCs

_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

•_Johnny Cade_•

Johnny is one of the first people you come out to

He’s generally the most accepting of the group at first

He helps you figure out how you’re going to tell everyone else and reassures you about it

If someone is upset or unaccepting towards you, he’ll make his disappointment in them known

And if Johnny is disappointed in you, you know you’re in the wrong

So he gets his point across very easily

Don’t let him cut your hair-

He will fuck it up so bad

We all know what happens when this boy tries to cut hair

Offers to get (possibly steal) things like men’s cologne or other little things for you

If you’re having a bad dysphoria day, call him. He usually knows what to say or how to distract you from it.

•_Ponyboy Curtis_•

A little confused at first

Not upset or anything, just confused

You’ll have to go into depth a little for him to understand

But once he gets it, he’s supportive

He already saw you as ‘one of the guys’ anyway, so this isn’t really a big difference to him

If he has some shirts or flannels to spare, he’s definitely letting you borrow them

He will also offer you a haircut

I wouldn’t trust him with hair either

He wouldn’t even bother with scissors, he’d just grab any blade and start hacking away

It’s the thought that counts

Not the best with comforting words, but he’ll listen if you need someone to talk to or hug you if you feel like shit

•_Dallas Winston_•

Really bad initial reaction, unfortunately

He’s really confused about it

He known you’ve never really been into all the typical girly things. Like makeup, skirts, all that

He knew you’d rather be caught dead than in a pair of pumps

But for some reason he still doesn’t seem to be able to wrap his head around the fact that you’re a guy

At first he sort of thinks you’re joking and doesn’t really take you seriously

But he comes around eventually (not without Johnny having to talk to him, though)

Once he kind of realizes how big of a deal this is for you, he becomes a little more protective over you

He’ll act really casual about it, but he secretly worries about you a lot

If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, he’ll take ‘em outside

•_Sodapop Curtis_•

Probably the second or third person you tell

Similar reaction to Ponyboy, you might have to go into detail a bit

But regardless, he supports you. He doesn’t really care what you do, as long as you’re happy

Like Pony, he’ll also offer to let you borrow his clothes. He knows it makes you feel a lot better to actually wear men’s clothes, so he’ll give you some of his

He really wants you to teach you how to do your hair if you end up cutting it short

He’s so going to teach you guy stuff, like he would love to

He’s in the room when Pony attempts to cut your hair. He immediately stops him before he can cut anything off, he already knows it’s gonna end badly

He’s also a little protective of you. If you’re around a lot of people in public, he stands next to you in case anyone decides to be rude.

•_Darry Curtis_•

You have Soda and Pony in the room when you decide to tell him

You aren’t really sure how he’s going to react, so you’re a little surprised when he’s supportive of you

Since he’s basically had to become a father figure to his younger brothers, he feels very protective over you now

He’s gonna give you a talk about how rude people are going to be and how you have to be careful (like you don’t already know)

He’s really worried about you. He knows how stupid people can be, and he doesn’t want anything to happen to you

If he has a say in it, he won’t let you go anywhere alone. He’ll always have Soda or Pony go places with you or walk you home

He’s gonna offer to get you a switchblade if you don’t already have one

He’s just very worried. He’s stern and overprotective sometimes because he cares, it’s the same way with his brothers

It’s just his way of showing love and that he cares

•_Steve Randle_•

Sodapop probably tells him for you, just because he’s not sure how he’ll react

He acts like he doesn’t really care, but he does

He honestly slips up with your name a lot in the beginning

Deep down he feels really bad about it, but he acts like he doesn’t care that much

He’s trying, I promise

He would steal things for you if you asked him to. He’ll act like it’s no big deal, but he’s glad you’re actually asking him to

It makes him feel like he’s helping or making things better in some way

If you’re younger than him, he’s definitely going to call you ‘little man’ to annoy you

He’s there to listen if you need someone to talk to about things, but he really won’t know how to be supportive. He’s not the most empathetic person, but he’s sympathetic to your situation

•_Two bit (Keith) Matthews_•

When you come out to him, it’s like probably the one time he’s ever been serious in his life

He even paused the TV for it

But after that, it’s back to his usual joking and tomfoolery

His way of ‘guy bonding’ is offering you beer and cigarettes every time you hang out

He kind of assumes you’d want to smoke and drink like rest of the guys, so if you decline he’d be a little surprised

If Steve isn’t calling you ‘little man’, he absolutely will

He’s going to have so many new nicknames for you now, just wait

Mister man, stud, boss, things of that nature. It’s not to make fun of you, he just thinks they’re funny

He’s for sure going to go make fun of you if you’re short, though. Unless it bothers you and you ask him to stop. But if you aren’t super bothered by it, he’s so doing that

_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

Thank you for the request, I hope I wrote something you liked:) this is not proofread so lmk if there’s any typos as always.

[mysicklove-main]

It was your fault. Sure, he asked you to do this, but you should have known not to agree.

Shoto's hair was getting too long. So, instead of leaving the comfort of his own home to go to the barber, he asked his loving partner to cut it.

In hindsight, you should have known it was a mistake. You never had an…artistic talent, but you had confidence that you would not mess it up too badly.

You overestimated yourself. It was bad. Really bad. One side was too short and the other side was way too long. There was scattered loose hair on both sides that stuck up. It looks like a toddler got a hand on scissors.

The two of you stare in the mirror, you with tears in your eyes from a mix of laughing and guilt, and him with his eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “Wow.”

You cover your mouth to hold back a laugh. “I-Its alright! We can just put you in a hat and–”

“I love it.”

The laugh slips past you and you cough to try to cover it. Your face is red now from the hilarious situation. “Shoto, no, honey…”

He runs his fingers through his hair, turning his head to admire the loose strands in the mirror. “I look like a rockstar. Take a picture, I want to send it to Midoriya.”

His reaction is genuine and you honestly are not surprised. Style was definitely not his thing. One time someone, as a joke, gifted him a neon pink zebra sweatshirt and he wore it so much that the press made a whole article called, “Pro-Hero Shotos Strange Ideals of Style.” You had to throw it away for his career sake. “Shoto, let's go to the salon.”

“Why? This looks really good. I always thought I needed a new hairstyle.”

You shake your head and pinch the bridge of your nose. “No it doesn't.”

“Y/N I don't know why it took me so long to ask you to do this. Have you ever thought of going to beauty school?” He says it with such a straight face, you know he wasn't joking. Another small laugh falls from your mouth in disbelief.

“I'm going to grab you a hat.”

He refuses to wear the hat and go the salon, mentioning how he doesn't want to cover it nor waste your efforts. 

The next day he makes the headline of the news with his new “appearance” and almost every single one of his old classmates called you for an explanation of what the hell happened to Shoto’s hair. You couldn't give them one.

Shoto’s public appearance depends on you, so you took matters into your own hands. 

Two days go by and you told him you won’t sleep with him until he gets a haircut. He goes to the salon the next day. 

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #10] Blonde

warnings: b is in her bleach era. love that for her!! jaykay is in the chapter for like 1.5 seconds and still manages to be the best thing about it. also if u think wow holly sometimes your chapters end very similarly, uhhh yes. ur right. mainly because my brain is smooth but also because jungkook is a creature of habit! it’s within his character traits! not because im stupid! even if i am!

soundtrack: space - audrey nuna;  blonde - maisie peters

wc: 3.5k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 

You suppose you really shouldn't be surprised when Seokjin leaves you on read. It happens as soon as he escapes the city, just like it always does. 

It's always the same; he'll come back to town for a few days - to visit friends, his family, or maybe for a haircut with the only barber he trusts - then leaves just as quickly as he comes.

The predictability of it all would be funny, you think, but your knees are getting worn out from how many times you fall for it; his charm, his deception, his pretty lips that soothe the burn of his selfish choices. 

He'll be radio silent for a while, and then suddenly, as if he's finally changed the batteries in his walkie-talkie, he won't be. It'll most likely be when he's on his way back to town in a few months time.

The saddest part is that you know you'll want to see him when he does. Will have the burning desire to show him just how well you've been; how well you've coped without him.

Most of all? You'll want him to know just how much you don't need him.

Inevitably, he'll end up in your bed, and you'll end up all in your head - again - overthinking and underestimating just how easy it is for him to drop you. Forgetting just how badly he fucked you up, only for him to remind you in the most callous of ways.

When Danbi comes home on Thursday night - three days since Seokjin's last message - she knows exactly what's happened. You've got a special kind of pout reserved for Seokjin-related upsets. It's always a little soft yet incredibly hard to break.

"You gotta stop letting him in," she says over a glass of red. She hates the taste, but loves the soft buzz in the pit of her stomach. Though she's much better suited to Moscato, Danbi will never turn her nose up at free wine.

If she knew why you were drinking it, she might consider rejecting it.

Seokjin's favourite. You'd bought it on the way home from work. Just couldn't help yourself.

Had figured that at least when you hugged yourself to sleep that evening, your lips would taste like his used to do, on the nights when he'd tell you that you're the most delightful thing he's ever laid his eyes upon. Would be all giggly. Wine drunk. Happy. In love.

But it's been a while since he did that. Feels like a lifetime ago, now. 

You shrug as you let the ruby red liquid swirl in your glass. Fighting against your feelings feels like swimming against the tide.

Always struggling to breathe. Never winning. Failing. Falling. 

"I don't know how to, Dan."

"But you do," she insists.

And she's right. Of course you do. 

His number has never been blocked, but a simple restriction of access to you would solve so many of your problems.

Thing is, you kind of like him still being your problem. At least that way, on a technicality, he's still yours. Kind of.

Every time he comes back to the city, it's still your bed that he ends up in.

Never for the night. Just for an hour or two - but for long enough for you to convince yourself that he can't stay away.

The lies you let your mind whisper are insidious. You're irresistible. He's still just as affected by you as you are by him. He can't possibly leave you.

And yet he does, each and every time.

He doesn't ever let you go. Not fully. Whenever you think you're getting over it, he shows up just to get you under him; his thumb, his spell, his body.

You're halfway through the bottle of wine when Danbi tells you once more that you need to get Seokjin out of your hair.

You've reached the end of it by the time you're grabbing your purse and heading for the closest Olive Young.

It's just down the street, by the crossroads that lead into town, and the staff there have seen you in worse states. A little tipsy has nothing on the mascara-stained eyes they used to be greeted with during the worst days of the breakup.

"Sure about this?" Danbi asks just to check before you take the boxes in your hands to the counter.

"Absolutely not - but he always hated me blonde," you grin a little sardonically. The happiness that comes with this change will be temporary, but you have to remind yourself that so was he. "At least even if I can't resist him, he'll resist me."

Peroxide and perhaps a little fried, your blonde hair had caught his attention in the early days - but you had dyed your hair dark in a bid to keep it. 

He'd said some bullshit in a conversation amongst friends about his preferences, and how he favoured the 'natural look'. You weren't together at the time, not officially - but everyone there was a friend of his. They all knew you'd be going home with him. It only took two boxes of dye to get him asking to be exclusive. A week later he was introducing you to his friends as his girlfriend. 

Funny what a little bit of conformity can do for a man who loves playing by the rules. 

You assume his desire to tick the boxes and do what is expected of him is also why he was such a bellend when it came to the glitter you liked to dust yourself in. 

Nobody's perfect though, so he was willing to overlook it. Was just one of the flaws he perceived in you. When you love someone, you accept them.

He ultimately never grew to love it, but for a while, you thought he might.

Bleach boxes in one hand, another bottle of wine in the other, you waste no time and head straight for the bathroom. Danbi follows you right in. She's always there to lend a hand or at least provide a Spotify playlist to get you through your woes. 

Folding the powder into the developing lotion by the sink, you know your bleach-induced bathroom antics could get you a spot in a Brad Mondo video.

All a little haphazard, you're without a mixing bowl and brush, so are having to use an old takeout container and a plastic spoon, instead.

It's not quite how the instructions suggest you should mix it all up, but no good ever comes from following the rules.

You'd tried for Seokjin, and look where that got you.

Unlike him, trusty Tupperware has never done you dirty before. No reason why it should now. 

Danbi sits on the closed toilet seat, legs crossed, a small bottle of bubbles in her hand. The bubbles had been a Christmas party favour from the office job she'd quit four months ago. Rediscovered when she'd been cleaning her room earlier that day, Danbi had taken to blowing pretty little bubble flurries your way all afternoon. 

Your reflection is captured in the peacock sheen of the bubbles while you study your rapidly developing hair in the mirror. 

You haven't bothered to change out of your shirt. It's not yours. One of Seokjin's. It's navy, and you hope the bleach ruins it.

"I think I've fucked up," you say all rather calmy, talking about your hair and not the shirt. It's not the end of the world if you have. Just hair, you always think.

Danbi shrugs. Has clearly spent too much time in your company, because she echoes exactly what you're thinking: "Just hair, babe. It'll grow."

That's the joy of your friendship; you both encourage each other with the same dumb remarks whenever you feel like you've reached the point of no return. 

After all, if you can't go back? 

Go forward.

"Plus," she adds, blowing more bubbles instead of taking a breath. "You can just chalk it up to being your hot mess era."

"Been in that for months already," you smile at her in the reflection of the mirror. You prod a little at your roots, and know that you definitely should have waited a little longer to work the bleach up to them. Bollocks.

You've done this enough times to know you'll end up with a gold band haloing around the top of your hair thanks to how easily your roots always lift. Nightmare. 

"Exactly, so you may as well look the part," Danbi encourages. Worst influence going, she is. Also the best at times, too. You find comfort in the fact she won't always say what you want to hear, but what you need to hear instead.

The conversation dissolves into empty chatter, gossip about Danbi's dog walking clients, mentions of Taehyung and how he's still trying to talk her into a mates-rates discount despite the fact they aren't actually 'mates'. She asked you about your Bartender That Smiles, and you say he's all good - before you have to insist there's nothing going on there. 

"He's got issues with his ex," you explain.

She rolls her eyes. "Don't they all? Boys and their first loves, I swear to God."

"Not sure she was his first," you defend, though you're not sure why. The thought lingers as you rummage around for an old tube of toner that you know you have hiding in the bathroom cabinet somewhere. It's been a while since your hair was pale enough to take toner, so it's been pushed right to the back.

Danbi is shooed from her perch on the toilet seat and into the living room as you let the shower run to heat it a little.  

The first crash of water against your skin is lukewarm. Tepid. Unappealing, but necessary. 

You hate anything other than boiling-you-alive degrees Celsius, but know you need to be kind to your hair after the torture you've put it through. The water runs cloudy until the bleach is rinsed out, and then it runs purple thanks to your silver shampoo. It pools around your feet and seeps into the drain. Wishful thinking has you hoping memories of Seokjin will do just the same.

It's just to preemptively tone it, but you can't help but worry about the pigment taking too strongly on your roots. 

The ash toner you found in the cupboard is in a box by the sink. You plan on putting that over the top of whatever mess your hair is anyway, but it doesn't hurt to get a head start on the process. 

The water glistens a deep violet, briefly coating your skin - and for some reason, all you can think about is Jeongguk, and how you'd really like to be downing a Purple Starfucker (or five) with him right now. He really is the perfect distraction. 

Still, you have a task at hand. You rinse your hair; ring it out. Sigh as you frown at the mess that greets you in the mirror - lilac roots, a yellow band haloing just like your thought it would, and silver ends. Brilliant.

It's as you're sitting with Danbi in the living room a little while later - body wrapped in a towel that isn't half as fluffy as Jeongguk's favourite, ashy toner smothering your peroxide blonde hair - that you notice your phone flash on the coffee table.

Danbi clocks it first, and stifles a laugh as she reads the screen. "Isn't that the guy from the club?"

You assume she means Jeongguk, and are a little perplexed to see it's Jimin's name on your screen instead. 

"Yeah... Jimin. Smooth talker, shit shagger."

"A glowing review."

"Hey, I still let him think he was good," you say as you reach for your phone to read his message out loud to Danbi. "You guys out tomorrow night?"

Sipping on her wine, Danbi raises a brow. Shakes her head in confusion. "He hoping for round two?"

"Fuck knows."

It's just gone midnight, so you consider maybe he's thinking about his desire for a hook-up, and is hoping for a safe bet in the form of you. 

And so you don't reply. If he double texts, you'll just lie and say you've fallen asleep.

The scent of your toner is beginning to give you a headache, so you go to rinse it and bid farewell to your final day as a brunette.

Sleep evades you. Doesn't want to let go of who you were, apparently. Wine makes you sleepy, and yet you're wired as if you've just had a triple shot americano.

But then it's three in the morning, and all you can seem to smell is the deep conditioner you bathed your hair in that evening. 

Somehow, when you look to the empty space beside you - delicately ruffled, a dent prevailing in the pillow - you convince yourself that you can smell fig leaves and coconut. The notes of his favourite aftershave linger like the ache in your chest. It's hollow, and you can't work out why it hurts quite as much as it does. 

If there's nothing there, how can it be so painful?

You sniff back tears that fail to truly form and pull your phone from beneath your pillow. It's hard to move your fingers when they're tangled up in puppet strings that Seokjin is refusing to let go of, but eventually you manage to tap through some Instagram stories in a bid to distract yourself from him. 

Inspirational quotes don't do much for you, nor do the engagement pictures of people you haven't given a second thought since graduation. There's an abundance of them. Smiling faces. Diamonds, or maybe just cubic zirconia. Fresh sets of nails, hands that are pink and warm from the heat of whoever's been holding them.

It's a curious thought; what people who haven't spoken to you in years must think of you now. 

You were the one who was going to succeed. Going far in life, made for a boardroom, would look incredible in a pantsuit - and yet you're working in a cafe, first-class degree of no more worth than the tissue paper you flush down the toilet. 

See, you switched out life goals for glitter. You wear it like armour; protect yourself from the world around you. Who cares about seriousness and success when you're a constant disco? Not you. Could never be you.

Or at least, you hope that's what people think. Hope that no one realises you're covering yourself in artificial shine; like a canvas in acrylic because you were too impatient to watch the oil paint dry.

One day you'll glow. Glow for real. 

For a while, you thought you had been with Seokjin. 

All you see when you look in the mirror these days is tarnished silver; copper alloy pretending to be much more than what it really is. Your skin will turn green eventually.

There is, however, one person you've managed to fool. 

When his story pops up - a repost of tomorrow night's paint party event at Dionysus - you find yourself clicking through to your DM thread without much thought. You know he's at work. Know it's a 50/50 whether or not he'll get back to you before your mind begins to berate you again for how miserable you feel. 

It's a simple message - hey - and you're pleased that it's met with an equally simple reply not even a minute later.

JustJK: To what do I owe the pleasure?

You decided that 'I'm about to cry over my shitbag ex so chose to message you instead' probably won't be Jeongguk's favourite thing to hear, so you opt for a little white lie.

You: Just wondering how the kids are <3

Part of you worries he won't understand what the fuck you're on about - but of course, he does. He's Jeongguk. Gets you better than you get yourself, these days.

JustJK:  Missing their mother. 

JustJK:  Perry the Pigeon almost fell earlier.

JustJK:  Roger the Robin looks like he has a broken wing.

JustJK: Must be one of yours. Inherited his mother's wonkiness <3

With each message that comes through, your smile grows wider in the midnight darkness of your bedroom. 

You: Careful or I'll file for joint custody.

You: Get poor Roger away from his father's cruel remarks </3

There's an ease to how you joke together, both aware of how unserious you are. There's no second-guessing, no worrying about saying the wrong thing. If you do, you'll say sorry and move on. No harm, no foul.

JustJK: Your appeal won't hold up in court, Byeol.

JustJK:  You've neglected them ever since you spawned them.

JustJK:  Haven't even paid them a visit!!!

Laughter stifles in your throat as your body curls up into a more comfortable position. The audacity of this boy, you think, ignoring the way he manages to get you entirely focused on something that isn't your own despair.

You:  You've got full custody!!!

JustJK:  And you're still allowed to come for supervised visits!!!!!

JustJK:  smh and to think you call yourself their mother.

JustJK: I'm their mother now.

You pout at your screen, and whine a small little 'nooo'. 

You:  They need me :(

JustJK: Come and see them, then. They miss their mother.

You:  Tomorrow?

He reads the messages instantly, but takes a little longer than usual to reply. It worries you slightly. Makes you more aware of your surroundings. The scent of Seokjin's aftershave begins to permeate the air once more.

Until, all rather suddenly, it doesn't anymore.

JustJK:  I'm not working tomorrow night, but Jimin's insisting on going to the paint party - you coming?

You:  Will Perry the Pigeon be there?

JustJK: If he falls before I leave for the club, then yes.

It's not a bad proposition. One that quite intrigues you. One that has you agreeing, and him telling you to fuck off and go to sleep. He's got work to do, he says. 

It's actually quite quiet at the club - Yeonjun just caught him looking at his phone with a dumb smile a few too many times for Jeongguk's liking. Doesn't wanna get caught out again. 

Especially doesn't want him catching onto the fact that there's a reason Jeongguk's eyes light up like Disco Balls when he looks at his phone.

Yeonjun doesn't really have friends who are girls, Jeongguk reasons with himself. Won't understand that he's perfectly capable of having a little flirt without it meaning anything more than that - after all, isn't that just what banter is? Friendly flirting? He does it with the boys all the time. Doesn't mean fuck all. Just fun.

Jeongguk's a couple of years older than his cerulean-haired coworker, and has learnt the hard way that you really shouldn't escalate friends above the level of purely platonic. One day Yeonjun will realise this. 

For now, though, Yeonjun'll shag anyone who looks at him in the right direction. Has probably already ruined a few good friendships. Doesn't even realise he's done it.

Jeongguk trusts himself not to make the same mistakes he's made in the past with you. Thinks that he's pretty happy with how things are. Has missed the dynamics of friendships with girls. Is looking forward to Monday movie night with you and Danbi again.

And yet when he gets home to find Perry the paper pigeon on his bed, he can't help but smile.

You wake up to a picture of the fallen bird in your DMs - and even though you'll whine and complain about it when you see him that evening, all you can do is smile, too.

JustJK:  Looks like we're having a wholesome family trip to Dionysus tonight.

You: Mummy and Daddy reunited at last <33 Perry will be so happy.

JustJK: It's okay, you don't have to lie.

JustJK:  I know you're talking about yourself, not Perry.

Jeongguk doesn't send the message where he tells you not to call him Daddy. Knows you'll read into it; tease him about it. It's not like he's got a thing for it, or anything, he just... maybe wouldn't be opposed to it, and so he'd rather not be called it when he's having casual conversations with you. Wouldn't wanna get flustered. 

Part of you already knows this. Is precisely why you'd said it. It's not really your style, not the kind of thing that gets you going.

But it is also exactly why you choose to end your next message with, 'See you tonight, Daddy x'.

You're laughing as you send it.

And as he receives it, Jeongguk groans. Buries his head into his pillow. Crumples Perry a little in the process. Whines. 

"Don't fuck this up, Jeongguk."

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