#i drew this in the middle of the night so idk how it looks

[appleteethh]

[zae-heeyyy]

Recalcitrance

Summary: You and Ms. Grimshaw just can't get along. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader Word Count: 1,763 Tags: fluff, kissing, high honor Arthur Warnings: camp violence, angry Arthur, suggestive themes

a/n: I have mixed feelings about Grimshaw. I think she's a very enigmatic character. Still, based on interactions I've seen with her, I feel this isn't too far off. These always end up super long for some reason. Idk how that keeps happening. Anyway, I hope you enjoy; thanks for reading!

recalcitrance: resistance to authority or guidance, often characterized by defiance or disobedience. It implies a refusal to comply with rules or expectations, despite attempts to persuade or control.

You and Abigail Roberts went way, way back. Working girls stuck to a code; part of that code was looking out for each other and ensuring you returned after one of your "shifts." Abigail ran away for a while, leaving you to assume she'd met a rich man and settled down.

When you met her again, she introduced you to Dutch Van Der Linde and company; you fell in with them shortly after. Since then, you constantly scrubbed blood from clothes, slept on the ground, and ate whatever game Pearson could find for the stew. Many girls you knew would never trade that life for this one, but you had a family to return to, even if they weren't the most conventional. And amidst it all, you'd found something you didn't think possible for you. 

You were drawn to Arthur Morgan instantly. The little things spoke volumes for you—how he checked on you in passing, the moments spent playing dominos together, and his overall politeness towards you. The bar was in hell, but he treated you so differently than any man ever had. Arthur's dumb cowboy act didn't fool you for a second, and you were captivated by him.

After one too many inadvertent shoulder grazes and incidental hand touches, the chemistry between you had become undeniable. Following a game of dominos he let you win, the stocky man asked you to take a walk with him. You weren't too far away from camp before you found yourself pressed against a tree by him in a heated kiss. So many thoughts swirled around your head. You were in the middle of nowhere; it was pitch black, and you were being hunted by the law, yet there against that tree was the safest you'd felt in a long time. 

Then, on another fateful night, you were alone with him at the campfire while everybody else had settled down. A sly smirk crossed his face, and he scooted closer to you, grabbing and kissing your hand. You giggled, maintaining eye contact as he kissed up your arm, gradually, a low groan escaping him. One thing led to another, and he guided you into his tent. You let him have you, and you, him. 

It was then, when you were on the brink of your climax, half-lidded eyes staring upward into his, that you finally understood what people meant by lovemaking. When it was all over, you got up to leave out of habit, but he drew you back into his arms and asked you to stay.

Since then, you've been his girl, and he made sure everybody knew, always kissing you before he left for a job, settling you into his lap at the poker table, or sneaking you away from your chores to spend time with him. You saw each other for what you were, not the labels that had been applied to you. And you loved him so much.

For the first time in a long time, your life was good. Well, mostly, except you hadn't quite mastered the life of navigating Ms. Grimshaw. Over the almost year you'd known her, she was rarely nice to you. She seemed more tame when Arthur was around, but he wasn't today.

By noon, you had gotten sick of hearing her voice, and she seemed more ornery than usual. The nagging was constant: do this, don't do that, do this faster, do this slower. You wished she'd shut the hell up and leave you alone. Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, you saw her speed-walking towards you.

You were sitting, about to light a cigarette, when she approached, red-faced, huffing, and talking fast, "There you are," she started, putting a finger in your face. "Sitting around like always. I have had it with you!" You stood quickly out of instinct and opened your mouth to speak, but she cut you off. "You're useless around here, so why don't you go into town and start selling yourself again. At least then you'd finally be carrying your weight!" 

Her words stung like branding, making your heart race and your eyes sting. The few people left at camp had gone quiet. Mary-Beth looked on nervously while Karen was glaring at the older woman. Your heart pounded in your ears, and you spoke faster than your brain could process.

"All you're good for is being an ugly, hateful bitch." As soon as the words left your mouth, she swung on you. It was a backhanded slap that stung and broke the barrier that was holding back your tears. You recoiled, holding your stinging face.

"Know your place, girl, before you end up somewhere worse than on your back. Now get!" She pointed towards the edge of camp.

"Screw you," you said, quickly wiping away a falling tear, "I'd rather fuck every man in town before I keep letting myself be treated like this." You stepped up to her, " Want me to leave? Well, I'm goin."

And you did. You collected what little belongings you had into a bag and charged out of camp, eyes forward and your head held high. Tilly and Mary-Beth tried to stop you, but you marched down the dirt path until they couldn't see you anymore.

"Look what you gone and did you old hag," Karen spat, "Oh, just wait til Mr. Morgan gets back. Bet you won't be so high and mighty then." 

Arthur didn't ride in until sunset; he searched for you before even getting off his horse. His face fell confused by your absence, and just as he was about to inquire, Mary-Beth and Tilly approached. He knew instantly that something was wrong.

"What, what is it?" His eyes searched theirs. They looked at each other, silently debating who'd break the news to him. It was Tilly who stepped forward, putting a calming hand on Arthur's arm. She talked low and cautious, "Arthur, she—her and Ms. Grimshaw—they—" She was cut off by Karen and Ms. Grimshaw beelining towards them.

Karen's voice boomed, speech slurred. "Go ahead, tell 'em." She waved her beer-clutching hand between Arthur and Ms. Grimshaw, defiantly meeting Susan's gaze before tearing her eyes away to meet Arthur's. "That wench Grimshaw smacked her across the face and ran her out!"

Clenching his fist involuntarily, he leaned into Karen, talking low and steady. "The hell are you talking 'bout?" His chest was rising and falling quickly now.

Ms. Grimshaw stood resolute and waved him off. "This doesn't concern you, Mr. Morgan. This is my camp, and these are my girls and my rules," she finished, arms crossed, staring at Arthur.

Stepping close, he imposed his broad figure on Ms. Grimshaw, flashing a smile that was anything but inviting. He took on a tone he rarely used with the women.

"Oh, Susan, that's where me and you disagree. This may very well be your camp, and you can make up all the rules you want, but she's my girl." His face had straightened into a scowl by the time he finished.

"Well, I'll—" she began incredulously, hands still on her hips, but Arthur threw up a halting finger.

"Look, Ms. Grimshaw, I respect how you run this camp, but that girl, she's off limits. Now, I'm gonna find her and bring her back, and you can raise all the hell you want, but if you lay a finger on her again—" 

"Arthur..." Tilly cut in warningly. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, ending his conversation with Susan. "Where'd she go?" he asked no one and everyone at the same time, speed walking to his horse.

"She took off down the road," Mary-Beth called out, but his horse was already kicking up dirt. Riding as fast as he could, he reached the nearest town at record speed. He hitched the horse outside the train station, forcing the doors open with his shoulder. The place went quiet, everybody focusing on the sudden disturbance. Arthur ignored the looks he was getting, scanning faces for yours. Spotting you took no time, and you stood as soon as you recognized him. He rushed to you, taking your hands in his; concern riddled his face— a rare sight. Guilt washed over you as you looked up into his eyes; you opened your mouth to speak, but he started before you.

"You alright?" he asked, looking you up and down. Dirt had stained the hem of your skirt, and your eyes were tired; his frown grew as he looked you over. You wrapped your arms around him, pressing your head to his chest and nodding.

"Wasn't gonna go, just needed to get away for a while," you murmured into his chest. Rubbing your back soothingly, he exhaled with soft, relieved laughter. One arm still around you, he gently tilted your head to meet his gaze with his free one.

"Don't you go walking out on us. Least without tellin' me first."

You agreed with a quick bob of your head, and he pulled your chin in towards his, kissing you on the mouth. He withdrew and gestured to the bench you'd risen from earlier; you both sat. Arthur wrapped a big arm around you, and you buried your face into his shoulder.

"That woman hates me," you grumbled with a pout. Arthur squeezed you closer, and a faint grin formed on his lips.

"Nah, she never liked any girl I brought around. Give her more time." He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "It's all outta love, I think," he concluded. You huffed at that, disbelieving.

"She got a funny way of showing it."

"Sure," he chuckled again. He sat for another minute before gently nudging you off his shoulder. Grabbing your bag and standing, he asked, "So you gonna come back with me?"

You tried to sulk but couldn't when he was standing there waiting patiently with his hand out. You finally relented. 

"Fine, but I ain't just gonna take it next time," you declared, taking his hand. A big smile stretched across his face. 

"You ain't gotta do nothing you don't wanna. If any of those fools have a problem with it, send 'em to me." You made your way out of the train station, hand in hand. You paused, gazing at him with a quirked eyebrow.

"I can handle myself just fine, Arthur Morgan." Another chuckle built up in him as he threw your bag on the horse. He turned to kiss the top of your head before grabbing you by the waist and lifting you up on the horse.

"I know, darlin'."

[lila-went-missing]

Can I have a whipped!Clarisse x sunshine!reader headcannons or one shot idk (could reader be either a Hecate daughter or just unspecified?) :3

Have a nice day/night

Ugh, I love Grumpy X Sunshine.

Clarisse x Sunshine!Reader Headcannons

Okay, literally no one expected you two to start dating.

Plot-twist of the century vibes.

You're so sweet and kind to everyone, offering your magical insight to anyone who asks you.

And she's so tough and brutal all the time, always picking fights with people over the smallest things.

Literal polar opposites, but opposites attract.

I feel like she would be pining over you from the moment you met.

Something about you drew her in. Maybe the way you carried yourself, maybe it was your natural talent for magic.

Either way, she's so whipped for you.

You have her wrapped around your finger without even trying.

I feel like she's the kind of person to practice what she's going to say to you before she actually asks you out.

I can just imagine her pacing around her cabin when no one is around whispering the script she made in preparation.

Because of her dad constantly ignoring her, and what little attention she does get being him telling her that she'll never be good enough, or never as good as her brothers, she has a MASSIVE fear of rejection.

That really plays a role in how she asks you out.

She'd literally be so nervous it's not even funny.

When she does eventually ask you out there is a lot of stuttering and stumbling over words.

You would probably be in your cabin, just finishing brewing a potion when she comes to you.

You can't help but laugh at how nervous she is, finding it rather adorable.

Obviously she gets really offended and tries to leave, telling you to forget she said anything in the first place.

You pull her back to you and kiss her.

"I wasn't laughing to make fun of you, I was laughing because you're cute."

From that moment on, her protectiveness SKYROCKETS.

Someone looks at you wrong? They're in the infirmary getting stitches.

Someone calls you a freak because of your mom being Hecate? She's lost dessert privileges for the next five months.

Eventually you do have to talk to her and tell her to tone it down.

But that just ends in y'all making out on her bed.

How is she supposed to be serious when her girlfriend is sitting there looking so pretty and perfect, and her lips are just so kissable.

SPEAKING OF, you can't tell me this girl isn't obsessed with kissing you.

Doesn't matter where you are or who you're with, she will kiss you at any point in time.

Lips, forehead, nose, cheek, neck, shoulder, you name it.

She could literally be about to break someones bones until you come up.

The mood switch is IMMEDIATE.

From "I will literally murder you." to "Oh hey baby, how was your day." and just kissing all over your face.

It gives everyone whiplash.

But they get used to it eventually.

She's just so in love with you.

You're literally the first person to ever show her what it's like to genuinely be loved and not just wanted as a weapon.

You're the first and only person she says "I love you" to.

You're especially the first person and only person she means it to.

It takes her a while to open up because she hates being perceived as weak or soft. After a while though, she will start coming to you with her problems.

She'll occasionally come to your cabin in the middle of the night after having a nightmare, usually about you dying.

She never wants to talk about it, she just wants you to hold her until she falls back asleep.

Everyone in both of your cabins comes to love y'all.

I like to think that Ares cabin is sworn to a mutual secrecy because almost all of them have someone they sneak in at night to cuddle.

But they all have a reputation to uphold no one talks about it.

If you think regular Clarisse likes to cuddle, Whipped!Clarisse is 10x worse.

She'll never admit it, but cuddling you is one of her favorite things ever.

Her guilty pleasure is laying on your chest or being the little spoon.

She just likes the feeling of being held by the only person she's ever loved.

This ended up being A LOT longer than expected. Sorry (not really) y'all, went on a tangent.

[cameronspecial]

OMGGG, I woke up today and thought of smth. It's gonna take forever to make if you do make this, but..

Drew starkey and Y/N, they meet at a fancy restaurant like this GIF

And Y/N thinks he's cute and she's like there waiter or smth and Drew is out for dinner w the cast to celebrate season 4 starting and she's just like really smiley or smth, anywaysss. They get eachothers numbers and talk a bit later that night and she finds out he's a Actor and he played in OBX and what not so she starts watching it and they eventually get tg after more talking. IDK, I WANT IT TO BE LONG LOWKEY, OR CHAPTERS OF THEM MEETING AND TALKING, HE FINDS OUT SOME HOW THAT SHE STARTED WATCHING OBX OR A MOVIE HE PLAYED IN AND SHES ALL BLUSHING AND EMBARRASSED, IDK ITS SM TO ASK- PLSSSS PLSSSS PLSSSSSSSSS PLEASEEEEE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE😭🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

-Autumn

That's Him?!

Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.8K

Masterlist

Y/N has been texting Drew all day. She shouldn’t have slipped him her number last night, but he was too good of the match not to take the chance to get to know him better. The table he had sat at was big, filled with, who she assumed were, his co-workers. They were all polite and respectful, helping make her job easy by being patient and stacking their plates when they were done, yet he stood out to her even in the sea of faces. He was attractive, no doubt, and always caught her attention with the most charming smile. He would joke and try to make polite conversation as she served his table. So once the time for them to close their cheque came, she took the opportunity to write her number down on his receipt. It turns out, the feeling is mutual. 

I swear I didn’t know that Nair was a hair removal product. Logan didn’t believe me though. She giggles at his recounting of when he accidentally caused his brother to go bald, not noticing her sister’s arrival in the living room. 

The shift in the couch beside her causes Y/N to turn her sister. “Are you still texting that guy from last night?” Via inquires. Y/N bites her bottom lip to hide her smile, “Yeah. He’s really sweet.” “Well, hopefully, this turns into something more because you need to get laid. Anyways, I’m going to watch my show down here.” The older sister doesn’t say anything as her sibling picks up the remote and switches it to Netflix. 

Y/N continues her conversation with Drew, letting the show on the TV drown out in the background until a familiar voice sounds throughout the room. Her eyes flick up to the large screen and back down to her phone. She recognizes the buzz head and can’t believe his presence. She also doesn’t know why she never thought about asking him where he works. “That’s him?!” she yells, pointing at the screen. Via looks at her sister like she has grown two heads, “What are you talking about?”

“That’s Drew. That’s who I met yesterday and have been talking to.”

“Hold on, you are telling me that the Drew you have been talking to is Drew Starkey.”

“I guess.”

Via pauses the show and pulls out her phone. Her sister waits patiently as her sister types something in. The phone is turned in her direction and she looks at the various pictures of her new friend on the screen. “Yeah, that’s definitely him.”

———

After a few weeks of texting, Y/N and Drew finally set a date on their calendar. His hand rests on her lower back, leading her while the hostess shows them to their table. She sits across from him with a massive grin. His hand rests in the middle of the table and she reaches out to place her hand on his, almost knocking down her empty wine glass if it isn’t for his quick reflex. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “I guess I’m still feeling a little Kooky.” Her eyes glance towards his face to see if he reacts to her teasing. His face remains stoic as he tries to figure out if she used the word for the reason he thinks she did. She recognizes his attempt and pushes it even more by going over the menu. 

“I wonder if they have any fish. I’m in the mood for menhaden or as it is otherwise known as pogue.” 

Certain that the jig is now up, he sets his menu down to give her his full attention. “So you know?” he confirms. She nods, “Yes, I found out a few weeks ago when my sister was watching the show in the living room. How come you didn’t tell me?” He sighs, playing with the hoop in his ear. “I didn’t want you to treat me differently. Or for you to be scared of entering a relationship with me because I travel a lot for work and sometimes get followed by a crowd of fans.”

 She gives his hand a soft squeeze. “I understand why you would fear those things, but I promise you don’t have anything to worry about. You are still plain old Drew to me and I have a thick skin from being a waitress, I think I can handle a few teenage girls.” 

He gives her a thankful smile and holds his hand up to her, “Why don’t we start over? I’m Drew Starkey. I act for a living and I think you are the most beautiful girl I have seen. I would love it if you would go on a date with me. She giggles and takes his hand. “Nice to meet you, Drew. I’m Y/N. I wait tables and I would love to go on a date with you.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[comet-forgot-you]

satisfaction

demon!amber freeman x virgin!reader

summary: you have reoccurring dreams of the same demon and you finally figure out how to get her.

warnings: 18+ pls, smut, fingering, manipulation (??), bath sex, oral, face riding, switch amber, virginity loss, amber’s a little mean. just a little. i think thats all idk i don’t remember.

a/n: hey yallll, long time no see.. finally finished with this, i used google translate so if the latin makes no sense, blame google 😬. it took me like a week to finish but anyways, ITS DONE. ENJOY. do not repost for any reason.

demons used trips to the human world as stress relievers or entertainment. they haunted the dreams of those whole occupied the world and fed off of the fear they felt. it was an activity every demon took part in at some point or another.

amber was amongst those who visited the human world regularly. she found it entertaining, seeing just how easy it was to elicit fear in those who caused it. stumbling into your room was a complete accident, but something about you drew her in, and she couldnt find it in herself to leave.

she knew she was hooked the moment she saw you. calm auras she usually sought to destroy suddenly became something she wanted to preserve.

your dreams soon became tainted with images of a beautiful girl. you longed to meet her, to know her. you fell asleep every night knowing you’d see her, you looked forward to it. only to wake up feeling empty and alone, craving the demon that haunted your dreams. you needed to see her, you needed to feel her, and thats all amber wanted.

amber planned it all out perfectly. months of her manipulating your dreams, showing you how good she could make you feel only to rip it all away at the last minute, forcing you to crave her like she craved you. then she showed you how to get her, and you were quick to follow the ritual she gave you.

steam filled the bathroom, you were wrapped in a towel, watching hot water fill the bathtub. candles littered the dark bathroom, flickering light from the flames painting the walls. worry pooled in the pit of your stomach. you were following a ritual given to you in your dreams, how could you not worry? you could be crazy, all of this, every dream, it could all just be some fucked up fantasy you had curated out of pure loneliness.

despite your worries, you continued to follow the instructions. you turned the water off, slowly dropping your towel. you felt like you were being watched, goosebumps rising on your skin. you glance around the bathroom despite knowing there was no way someone else could be in there without you knowing. you lower yourself into the tub, the hot water burning your skin ever so slightly as you do so. you take a breath, the feeling of eyes on you more prominent than before. you hold onto the edge of the tub in an attempt to ground yourself.

“te quaero, quaere me, te volo, coniunge me. te quaero, quaere me, te volo, coniunge me,” the words fall from your lips, clear and steady despite never saying them before. the candlelights flicker as if a breeze blew through the room. “amber,” the name falls from your lips but its not your voice.

the water level rises, arms snake around your waist and a chin rests on your bare shoulder, firm horns lightly pressing against the side of your head. “finally,” its the same voice that haunts your dream, quiet in your ear. “you want me, baby?” you let out a shaky breath, heat pooling in the pit of your stomach.

you hesitate, the demon that controlled your dreams was here, holding you. months of the same dreams of her, and she was finally here, actually here. “yes,” the word falls from your lips and amber smiles against your skin. her hand trails up your chest, her thumb tracing your nipple. you arch off of her body at the contact, a shaky breath leaving your lips. her other hand trails down your body, spreading your thighs apart. her middle finger grazes your clit and your quick to grab her wrist.

“i’ve never.. you know..” the words escape your lips in an embarrassed whisper. amber presses a kiss against your neck and your tilt your head ever so slightly to allow her more access.

“i know, baby. i promise i’ll be gentle,” she nibbles your ear gently, voice low. as if on queue, her fingers sink into your cunt. you bucking your hips into her palm, allowing yourself to lean back against her while she worked herself in and out of you.

shadows of the two of you dance on the wall with the flickering of light from the candles. you let your head fall back against her shoulder, eyes closed. “you’re so naughty, baby,” amber whispers, “i saw all of those dreams you had, where i fucked you just like this, what a slut.” the words are quiet. every movement amber makes causes the water to ripple, the noise fills you with embarrassment. you open your eyes, taking in her appearance for the first time outside of your dreams. dark circles rested beneath dark eyes, sharp fangs held her bottom lip captive. she was beautiful. her fingers curl inside of you, her thumb moving to rub gentle circles around your clit. you moan at the added pleasure. finding her free hand with your own, you guide it to your boob, squeezing her hand around it.

“please,” you whimper out, your hand dropping from hers, droplets of water splashing onto your chest. amber smiles, twisting your nipple between her fingers.

“so needy, hmm?” she asks. you nod breathlessly, your orgasm fast approaching. you grip onto her thigh as she works you to your high, fingers working effortlessly to do so. amber litters hickeys across your neck, feeling the vibrations of your moans against her lips.

your orgasm hits fast, and if you weren’t so desperate for the demon, you’d be embarrassed about it. amber eases her fingers out of you, pressing gentle kisses over the marks she made on your neck. “one more?” she asks. your eyes are heavy, cunt still pulsing from your orgasm. you nod quickly, not wanting to lose the opportunity. amber smiles at your eagerness.

you sit up, letting her get out of the bath. she grabs a towel, wrapping it around her body as you let the water drain. amber holds a towel out for you, arms around your waist as she wraps the towel around your body. she litters more kisses against your neck as you guide her out of the bathroom.

“wait the candles,” your eyebrows furrow as you turn around in her hold. amber lets out a quiet laugh at your worried tone,

“don’t worry about them, i’ll deal with them,” she mumbles in your neck, guiding you back until your legs hit the bed. her lips are on yours the second your back hits the bed, desperate whines falling from your lips.

amber opens your towel, lips trailing down the expanse of your body. you’re soaked by the time her lips meet your thighs. sharp fangs scrape the skin and it takes everything in you not to buck your hips into the air.

her warm mouth meets your needy cunt before you know it, lips wrapped around your pulsing clit. a loud moan falls from your lips. it was all so new, so fucking good, it was almost too much. her tongue presses flat against the bud and your hands fly to hold onto the base of her horns. amber groans against your cunt, the vibrations eliciting a whimper to fall from your lips.

amber’s mouth detached from your cunt and she looks up at you with blown eyes, eyebrows furrowed in need. “baby.. you can’t..” you tug her back towards your cunt with her horns and a loud moan falls from her lips, her own hips bucking into the mattress. “baby..” she draws out in a whine, her tongue works messily against your cunt, needy whimpers muffled in your cunt at every tug of her horns.

“please..” you whimper out, amber’s arms wrap around your thighs. she knows you’re close, your clit pulses erratically under her tongue. she tries her best to keep herself under control, but every tug at her horns has her closer and closer to her own orgasm. with one final tug at her horns, you’re coming undone on her tongue. she’s quick to lap up your juices, her tongue soon becoming to over stimulating for you.

you push her head away from your cunt, her lust filled eyes meet yours and you can tell she’s still desperate for more. “let me taste you,” you mumble.

“you don’t need to,” she mutters.

“i want to.” your voice is firm and amber’s quick to position herself above your face, her thighs on either side of your head. your arms wrap loosely around her thighs, bringing her down against your tongue.

you circle her clit with your tongue, her hips bucking at the sudden contact. “fuck,” she moans out. your tongue swipes through her folds, prodding at her entrance. amber grinds down against your face, your nose bumping her clit with every roll of her hips. shes a mess above you, her legs struggling to keep herself up.

your hand trails up her body, taking her nipple between your fingers. amber’s head falls back, a loud moan falling from her lips. “fuckfuckfuck,” she mutters. your pick up your pace, desperate to bring her to her high. “sure you’ve never done this before?” amber asks between shaky breaths, her hips desperately bucking against your face. “so fuckin’.. so fuckin’ good for a first timer,” she mutters. you fight the smile that threatens to break out.

amber lets out a loud moan as her orgasm washes through her, her hips slowing down their pace. amber lifts herself off of you, moving to straddle your hips. she leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips.

for the first time in months, amber was feeding off of strong emotions, and for the first time in her life, it wasn’t fear, it was satisfaction.

[juniperwoodwell]

-Summer of the Buzz cut-

•90's! Keanu Reeves x F!Reader.

•2k words, spur of the moment.

•Smut, MDI, F&M receiving, blowjob, fingering, very fluffy, poor editing. Etc, lmk if I missed anything.

A/N: First ever smut so go easy on me if this sucks, it's 1 am and idk what I'm doing. Thought this would be pretty hot, I got the idea from a song called "Buzz Cut" By lovelytheband and MisterWives. Oh and Tumblr formatted this weird from docs and I'm too tired to fix it right now. Enjoy!

It was gone. Completely gone.

I was devastated when he showed up at my apartment in the middle of the night with his signature goofball smile.

The shock on my face made him laugh so loud he probably woke my neighbors. “What did you do!?” I exclaimed, pulling him into my apartment- more like yanking him.

He smirked up at me as he plopped down on my couch, I put my hands on my hips and looked at him over, my silk night dress bunching slightly. “What do you think?” He asked,

“What do I think? Keanu. You buzzed your hair!” He laughed again, though this time he seemed a little self-conscious.

When he settled he sat up straight and grabbed my wrists, pulling me towards him. “You don’t like it then?” when he asked I shrugged, I didn’t know what I thought. I was so used to seeing him with his soft fluffy hair that this was unfamiliar. “I-...It’s not fluffy anymore.” I tried not to pout but my voice gave me away, he smiled and took my hands in his then laid them onto his head, I chuckled as I threaded my fingers through the now short hair. “It’s still soft, baby, plus- It’ll grow back.” He tried to comfort me even though I now caught onto his mild sadness. I bit my lip in thought as I looked down at him, he loosely wrapped his arms around my waist as I massaged the back of his head.

An idea popped into my head and I quickly avoided his gaze. “You okay, babe?”

I nodded then met his eyes, a playful smile on my lips as I spoke. “It’s just…Now that it’s so short I won’t be able to use it to my advantage– if you get what I mean.” It took him a moment but his eyes widened when he realized. He snorted out a laugh and hid his face in my chest as he chuckled. I tried to grip his hair but it was too short, he looked up at me as I pouted,

“Aw come on baby, don’t pout. No matter how short or long my hair is–” A mischievous glint in his eyes made me cautious of his next words. “–you’ll still be grabbing at it when I’m down between those pretty thighs of yours.” I gasped and playfully smacked his shoulder and he groaned as he rolled his eyes. “Oh- Of course you can make a naughty joke but I can’t?”

I teasingly raised a brow at him and he gripped my waist pulling me down onto his lap, I straddled his thighs as he leaned back against the couch. We sat for a few moments, just basking in each other's presence, I brushed my fingers through his hair again and his eyes fluttered shut. “Well…at least that’ll never change.” I mumbled softly, and a smile crept onto my lips. His thumbs drew patterns on my silk-covered hips as I resumed the massage to his scalp. “Bet this feels like a breath of fresh air, huh?” I asked, he grunted as he nodded.

“Yeah I bet, You’re still so handsome though. I guess you’re just that lucky.” I teased him before bending down to kiss his cheek, his arms wrapped around my waist, and pulled me flush against him. My hands moved to his shoulders.

“You still think I'm handsome even like this?” He asked, I tilted my head– confusion written on my features. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s just hair, Keaner.”

He shrugged, “It’s nothing, You’re right.” He smiled but I knew it was forced.

“I was surprised when you showed up but I’m digging it now. Honest. It’s very sexy– and you look even cuter when you smile.” I subconsciously pushed an invisible strand of hair behind his ear and we both laughed,

“That’ll take some time getting used to.” He nodded and kissed my shoulder, “The real question is…Do you like it?” I asked,

“I’m gonna have to, I need it for the movie.” I clicked my tongue and nodded, “I’ll always admire your dedication to your roles, what a special boy you are.” He rolled his eyes playfully and brushed his fingers against my sides–

My eyes widened, “Don’t start Reeves. We’ll end up on the floor like last time.” He batted his eyes innocently “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Babe.” As he finished his words his hands attacked my sides and stomach as I erupted in a fit of giggles. I tried to push away but he was too strong, he smiled up at me and let me go when I begged him enough.

My face was flushed red and my breathing was rapid, I smacked his shoulder softly. “See- We’re not on the floor this time.” I groaned and pulled his face to mine in a desperate kiss.

Tongues and teeth clashing, Hands roaming– Aching to feel the warm skin of the other. Keanu lifted his arms, pulling from the kiss as I lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it across the room, his lips were back on mine in an instant. My hands trailed from his shoulders down his chest and to his belt. His hips bucked up as I teased my fingers past the waistband of his jeans.

“C’mon, babe...Play nice” He groaned out against my lips, I pulled away and smirked. “Oh-...Like you did?” I traced my thumb over his growing erection, I watched as his eyes shut and his tongue ran over his lips in anticipation. Slowly I began to rub my palm over him, his hips bucked again, He was getting impatient. I trailed my hands over his hips before undoing his belt, agonizingly slow. His hands gripped my hips, bunching the fabric there as I rubbed him through his boxers– I observed his expression as I finally reached in and released him from them. His face softened but tensed suddenly as I began to move my hand, gently rolling my wrist and palming his tip. A grunt left his lips and his breathing picked up quickly as my hand did the same.

“Does that feel good baby?” My voice was quiet and sweet, he bucked up into my hand, “Yes, fuck- yes. Please” I smiled at his gentle begging, “Mm…Please what?”

Keanu opened his eyes, a silent plea in his big brown eyes. “I need you- I need to be inside you baby.” I flicked my thumb over his furious tip as I smeared the pre-cum over it– his head rolled back as a broken moan fell from his lips. Three weeks of pent-up emotion made him very sensitive. I smiled and kissed his jaw– I quickened my pace and I could tell he was getting close, his voice got louder as I kissed and sucked hard the spot behind his ear. “Baby- I- I’m close, please–” His voice was desperate and his hands tightened on my hips, I allowed him a few more seconds before I removed my hand from him.

Never in my life had I heard Keanu whimper, until now. His head snapped up– eyes open wide in surprise. I folded my arms over my chest as I spoke. “How’s that taste?”

His expression darkened as he flipped me down onto the couch, his hands pinned down my wrists as his brown eyes stared deeply into mine. “That's how you want to play this game, sweetheart?” His tone was laced with an intoxicating venom that I couldn't resist. I batted my eyes innocently at him and he scoffed, a smirk on his lips. “Alright, fine. I won't stop even if you beg. You've poked the bear and now you're paying for it” His words sent a chill down my spine and I felt my skin flush.

He released my hands and began by moving my night dress over my hips. He inhaled deeply, "What a sight for sore eyes…” he said as he ran a finger through my folds, my hips bucked up against his hand though he didn't tolerate that so he used his other hand to keep them still as he began to rub my clit with his thumb. I shut my eyes tightly at the feeling– quickly becoming overwhelmed by it, I moaned loudly when he inserted two thick fingers inside, I craved the feeling. “Look at me.” He spoke, his tone serious and when I didn't listen he grabbed my chin with the hand that was in my hip and shook my face gently, “Look. At. Me.” His voice grew deeper and I opened my eyes to meet his. His fingers continued their assault– increasing in speed when he found the perfect spot. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and my back arched off the couch at the feeling.

He chuckled and leaned down to place a kiss on my cheek “Does that feel good, baby?” He mimicked me from before and it made me cry out in pleasure, his mouth moved from my cheek down to my silk-covered breasts. His tongue licked at one of my stiffened nipples then he sucked it into his mouth. I felt sparks light up my body and goosebumps litter my skin– I was close and he knew it well. I teetered on the edge, “You see sweetheart…I'm not cruel like you– so, I'll be kind and let you finish” he spoke against my chest before moving to the other breast. His free hand started to rub my bundle of nerves and I saw stars. He tipped me over the edge and it was heavenly– my body shivered and I gasped for air as I came on his hand but he didn't stop, he continued to help me ride out my high until my body stilled.

He pulled his fingers out and brought them to his eye level, he spread them and watched as my cum stretched between them– He groaned before he put them to my lips, I took them willingly. I tasted myself on them, it was bittersweet and I loved it. I looked into his eyes as I sucked on his fingers, making sure to clean them completely.

“How’s that taste?” He teased as

He pulled them out with a pop, and smiled down at me. He brushed some sweat soaked hair from my face, “Ready for more baby? Because I think you owe me.”

I nodded and he pulled me up into a sitting position, he leaned back against the couch and spread his legs as he pushed his jeans and boxers down to his knees. I trailed my eyes from his, down his body and to his throbbing cock, I groaned at the sight.

“I want that pretty mouth of yours around me.” I met his eyes and he put a hand on the back of my head, gently threading his fingers through my hair. I nodded as I moved from the couch to in between his legs, I took off his pants and boxers completely before I placed my hands on his leaking member.

He grunted as I began to stroke him with both hands, I moved in closer and started to swirl my tongue around the head of his cock– he tasted tangy. Slowly I began to take him into my mouth, hollowing out my cheeks and flexing the muscles in my throat. His hand found my hair again and he began to push me down further– causing me to take more of him. I moaned around him as he hit the back of my throat, he bucked his hips up and I gagged but he didn't let up.

My hands braced on his thighs as he fucked my throat, tears pricked at my eyes.

He gripped my hair and pulled me off him, I looked up at him through tear stained eyes and his expression was soft. “Poor thing…Come here” He grabbed my biceps and pulled me up onto his lap, his cock pressed against my belly. He held my face with both hands and brushed hair away from my face before pulling me in for a sweet kiss, his hands moved to my hips and he lifted them up. I helped guide his cock to my center and he pushed me down onto him firmly, my head snapped back in a silent moan– he groaned against my neck. He was anything but gentle now, his hips slammed up into me, my breasts bouncing at the force of it. His lips attacked my neck as he kissed, sucked and nipped at it in all the right places.

My hands grabbed at his short hair and his were leaving crescent shapes into my hips from the strength he was holding me. I moaned as he hit that spongy spot that brought stars to my eyes, “I’m c-...Fuck- close. Please,please, please!” I cried out. “I know- me too baby” he grunted out.

The strap of my night dress slipped down to reveal my breast, Keanu bent forward and took it into his mouth, arching my body back in the perfect position– white hot sparks ran through me in an instant, I clawed at his shoulders and my body shook violently as I came for the second time, coating his cock in my cum. His pace quickened and he groaned against my breast, one final thrust and he spilled into me, his face hidden in my neck– he held me there as he filled me completely with hot ropes of cum, I could feel it dripping out of me. Our breathing was labored as we came down from our highs.

Keanu pulled back from my neck and looked at me, a smile on his lips. I huffed out a laugh as he leaned back and pulled me down against him, “Maybe I should get a haircut more often?”

Playfully I smacked his shoulder and he chuckled, “ Or maybe you should just come home more…”

Keanu reached over and grabbed the blue throw blanket off the back of the couch and laid it over top of us. His cock began to soften in me but he didn't dare move, his hands rubbed up and down my back soothingly- I yawned exhaustely, one of my hands rubbed the back of his head. “You were right, I still found a way-” He laughed softly, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Told you so.”

•

thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it- Juni <3

[thlayli-ra]

Ficlet Request - Treat - Being playfully clingy in the mornings when one has an off day and the other has to rush to work - PunkIntyre + Seth Rollins (idk if they have a poly ship name yet?)

I’m sure plenty of people will request whump fics and I will enjoy every bit of it as it comes, but for now, I just want something cute and domestic 🥰😂

Something cute and domestic coming right up! 🥰

Treat - 'Being Playfully Clingy'

Characters - Seth Rollins, Drew McIntyre, CM Punk

Rating - Teen and up

Warnings - None apply, domestic fluff

Drew was a hugger. And that was fine! Lovely actually. Especially on those lazy Sunday morning where all three of them would be tucked up in bed with nowhere to go and nothing to do, and Drew (in the middle where he liked to be) would wrap both of his titanic arms around his boyfriends and snuggle them in close. The soft, comforting body heat would lull them all back into a pleasant doze and they would stay that way for hours and hours.

That was the beauty of Drew, really - there was plenty of him to go around.

However, when there was only the two of them at home, Drew could be, well, how to put it delicately, he was... clingy as hell! Seth knew this well, considering he'd been going out with Drew the longest, and he also knew that the Scot was really missing his newer boyfriend. The pout he wore when they went their separate ways after Raw was devastating.

'I'm sorry, Big Guy,' Punk lamented, trying to breath as the huge Scot wrapped his arms tightly around his chest and refused to let go. 'I'm staying at the hotel tonight and driving onto the next town for NXT, remember? Got my special guest referee duties to do.'

'He'll be fine,' Seth said with a warm roll of his eyes, finally prising Drew's massive hands off of Punk. 'You have a safe journey tomorrow and we'll see you Thursday.'

'Bright and early, I promise,' Punk said, accepting a kiss from his sharply dressed boyfriend. 'Oh, and thanks for lending me your booty shorts.'

'Yeah, well, somebody's gotta wear them,' Seth joked with a shrug, 'since they arrived too late for the you two's match at Summerslam.'

'Well, thanks to you, I now know what not to do when officiating,' Punk gave a cheeky grin, opening the door to his rental. 'Love you.'

'Love ya, hon,' Seth returned.

'Love you, Punky,' Drew chimed in, watching crestfallen as the car drove away into the night.

Ever since then, Drew had followed Seth around like a overly affectionate cat, no, not so much a cat, more like, a full grown adult male Siberian tiger, wrapping his giant paws around Seth and gently digging its claws in, refusing to let go.

And that was fine! When they were both off with nothing to do. But today, Seth was scheduled for some media work, the first of which started in two hours and he was still stuck fast in bed with Drew's anaconda arms and legs coiled around him. He'd been awake for a while now, ever since his alarm had sounded at seven, but Drew (still loitering in the middle of the bed, even with Punk gone and all that extra space available) had whimpered 'no, no', rolled over and grabbed him.

Seth had allowed it. He knew this would be a tough morning for Drew and he fully expected him to be even clingier than usual so they lay for another half hour, spooning, Seth the tiny demitasse spoon compared to Drew and his extra large serving ladle. But time was now ticking on and Seth needed to get showered and smartly dressed and be out that door on time.

Peeking over his shoulder he found Drew's eyes shut, a serene look on his face as he dozed peacefully. Seth carefully slipped his hands under Drew's and gently opened them up in order to free himself when they abruptly clamped down again, gripping tighter.

'Nooo,' Drew grumbled into his shoulder blades, rubbing his face against Seth's bare back.

'I know but I got to, sweetie,' Seth said. 'I've got work to do today.'

'No!' Drew huffed like a toddler. 'Stay.'

'Believe me I would love to but Hunter would have my head on a platter if I missed these appearances.' An idea popped into Seth's head. 'You wanna come shower with me?'

Drew practically leapt out of bed with excitement.

So they showered together. And that was fine! They'd just had a new, larger unit installed so that the three of them could fit in together, which, it turned out was for the best, otherwise Punk would have hogged it all the goddamn time. Steaming hot showers, strong coffee and baked goods - his three main vices, which was a damn sight better than drugs, cigarettes or alcohol. None of them drank, although Drew enjoyed an alcohol-free beer with Sheamus now and again, so at least they didn't any awkwardness with that to contend with.

Speaking of awkwardness, this current shower was proving to be difficult seeing as Seth had what he could only describe as the equivalent of a bear-skin rug draped over him like a cape. 'Hey Drew, you mind moving over so I can-' The bear gave a growl and buried its snout deeper into the nape of Seth's neck. 'Ok, fine. Not like anybody will be seeing my back anyways.'

He eventually managed to wriggle out from between the Scot's tentacles long enough to slap on a pair of dress pants and an immaculately pressed button-down shirt but as soon as he'd fastened one cuff, it was snared between two jaws of a colossal Venus flytrap. 'Uh, Drew,' Seth cocked a brow at the Scot who sat on the bed, decked in only a towel knotted around his waist, dripping wet with his long, drenched hair sticking to his neck and shoulders, 'I kinda need that hand.'

'Tough,' Drew smirked cheekily.

'Fine, I can do my other cuff when I get there,' Seth sighed, adding with a mutter under his breath, 'and my tie and put on my jacket and my shoes and...'

Normally Seth would make something filling like pancakes for breakfast, and while he stood at the stove, Drew would come up behind him, place his arms on Seth's waist and his chin on Seth's shoulder and comment on how delicious it smelled. And that was fine! But today, Seth had no time to make anything fancy for breakfast, so instead he opted for a quick bowl of bran cereal with a dollap of milk. But he couldn't bend down to open the dishwasher with Drew pressed right up against him, and had to shuffle to the pantry under both of their weight and Drew's huge arm around his shoulders made it impossible for him to reach up - 'Uh, Drew, honey, can you grab me the- oh, thanks! - and then he had to drag them both across to the fridge then he couldn't sit down because he was now two human beings, one of which was the size of a house, fused together so he had to stand at the counter instead and as soon as he dipped his spoon into the cereal and tried to lift it to his mouth, Drew grabbed hold of his wrist and peppered kisses down his arm and-

-and now, this was really getting into the 'not fine' territory!

'Shit, is that the time?' Seth gasped at the wall clock. He was officially running late, and Seth Rollins never ran late. So he hobbled off in a panic, Drew still clinging to his shoulders like a fucking silver back mountain gorilla who'd been raised by spider monkeys to try and find his shoes (which he had no hope of shining before he left) and his jacket (which he'd hoped to press but had to give up on that too) and his open cuff caught on a door handle and his ears heard a horrible shredding noise and now his entire sleeve was torn apart and flapping around and when he glanced back at the clock, another twenty fucking minutes had passed!

'DREW! GET OFF!'

'No!'

'I'm meant to be at the studio in ten minutes and at this rate I'll hit the rush hour traffic. I need to go now!'

'Noooo!'

'Punk will be back any minute, so please, you only have to be by yourself for an hour or so at the most-'

'Noooooo!'

'URGH!' Seth despaired, but another three minutes had passed and he had to get out that door. So he gritted his teeth and squared his shoulders and waded to the front door like a kid at the carnival dragging around the comically over-sized bear he'd won at the stalls. That was... made entirely out of glue and bricks for some reason! 'Drew,' he grunted with each hard-fought step. 'I really. Really. Have to. GO!'

Just before he reached the door, it opened. A man stepped in and immediately jumped with fright at the sight of a bedraggled Seth lugging a huge, hairy Scotsman in a towel on his back. 'Uh... hi,' he said.

'PUNKY!' Drew cheered, hopping off of Seth. 'You're home!'

'Perfect timing,' Seth said, flying past Punk out the door, but not before planting a cute kiss on his cheek and whispering in his ear. 'He's all yours now.'

On cue, Drew rushed towards Punk and lifted him right up off his feet in an excruciating bear hug. Out the corner of his eye, the tattooed man saw Seth make a run for the car, and sweet freedom. Joke was on him though. There was nowhere he'd rather be than right here.

'Hey Big Guy,' Punk smiled down at Drew, accepting every kiss and hug and nuzzle that came his way. 'I missed you too.'

[sovaghoul]

Idk I just started typing. More Unholy Trinity (Æther/Rain/trans (ftm) Dew) below. CW pregnancy

Rain drew lazy patterns in the hair on Æther's chest as the tour bus bumped along the freeway. It was a question the Water Ghoul asked several times a day, even in the middle of the night, as it was now. It seemed the afterglow of lovemaking made him miss Dew more strongly. Æther felt much the same.

"what do you think he's doing now?"

"Hopefully resting. Pregnancy isn't easy, so much energy needed for growing a whole new life." He absent-mindedly played with Rain's silky curls, until Rain shifted to look at him.

"can we call him? please Æther? do you think he'd be mad?" Rain's brown eyes pleaded, and while Æther found Dew's bright blue melted his knees without fail, his sub's sub was nonetheless persuasive.

"I wonder which of us he'd be more likely to answer," Æther mused.

"you, i'd think. if it were me, he might think something was really wrong. but you're his Dom. i think that means he'd be inclined to obey without thinking. that's what i'd feel."

Æther nodded, mulling it over before fishing his phone out of the compartment on the wall of the bunk. It surprised Æther when Dew picked up halfway through the second ring.

"Figured you'd be asleep by now." Dew's whispered pants sounded almost embarrassed.

Æther paused a beat before responding. "Same to you love. Are you alright?"

"Mhm, yeah, m'fine. Just um. Just miss you both. A lot. And these fucking pregnancy hormones..." Dew cleared his throat, unsuccessfully trying to stifle a soft moan.

Æther broke out in a knowing smile as his Quintempathy fed him even over the long distance. "We just...'missed' you too. But knowing us, I'm betting we have more if you need help. Don't we Rainy?"

Rain looked up and saw the smile, and returned it. He nodded eagerly.

"Your sub agrees, Dewdrop. How can we pleasure you?"

[thecomicallytragicgangle]

[It is done]

[mod note: this is temporarily replacing the link to magma (the art drawing thing we have so we can draw together!) as pinned post so heres the link: https://magma.com/d/zzg8vd99i2]

[the reason gangle isnt included is because she went to go get snacks totally not because i forgot to draw her. nope]

[credits to shard anon, @theoneandonlysun, and the mod of zooble's blog for majority help! @eeboshmeebo also contributed to the art!!][if you helped with the art and you wanna be credited, message me please, because i might've missed you? a lot of people swung by i just wanna make sure i credit them all]

[behold....]

[TA DAH!!! below the read more thing is the list of people featured + pings (sorry yall, i just wanna make sure you see art,,)]

[btw, bonus: @easton-likes-sandwiches my bad i couldn't include you (since easton is kinda. not in digital land.) but here ya go, a bonus!]

1: @rook-specter [i hope i drew you correctly, i couldn't really find a sona to use]

2: @the-moth-from-elsewhere [btw i know you wanted to add details but imo i think it looks fine like this,,thanks for some of the help and support, though!!]

3: pickle anon [unsure if they have a blog, so i can't @]

4: shard anon!! [also unsure if they have a blog, but they helped alot!! ty ty]

5: @unfunnyaceartist [OK i know you only appeared for a bit but you agreed to move night.,,and your sona looks cool..so..obilgatory appearance in the art!]

6: @sugarcane-soup [I DIDNT KNOW HOW TO COLOR YOUR SONA,,i hope i did well]

7: @zooooble [zoob...]

8 and 9: [@askobjects firey and leafy look so goofy in this image,, i hope you like them]

10: @sign-anon [in the middle of drawing this i did NOT know sign anon died..whoops?]

11: @boldtextanon [bold text anon is fine guys. Hes fine. i swear]

12: @yougotjinx3d [mage anon and vamp anon were drawn by sun if i remember correctly, so erm..ya!! they're silly people]

13: @bloodforvampanon [me when i GET YOU. but fr. silly guy]

14: crownon! [unsure if they have a blog, but erm..crow]

15: eepy anon!! [also unsure if they have a blog..they literally look so silly its crazy]

16: rat [you know who you are /silly]

17: @gummy-axolotl [I HOPE I GOT THE COLORS RIGHT,,HERE YOU GO!!!]

18: @liloblogs [im gonna be fr we got this close to confusing lilo with juko,,,im not very great at oc lore. but lilo is so silly]

19: panic anon! [i think they're also the same blog as lilo? unsure. but yea!! they are goofy and silly and probably terrified of the horror movies]

20: @justadustymoth [MOTh. moth,,,,, moths are so silly. like. fr..]

21: bow anon! [idk if you have a blog but i hope you like the design!!!!]

22: @squirrelboi [I DIDNT KNOW IF YOU HAD A SONA SO I USED YOUR PFP...I HOPE THATS OKAY]

23: @eeboshmeebo [there was barely any room so i could only include a mask,,but i hope thats okay!! also ty for help on the mask]

24: @kiwidragon [I HOPE I DREW THE DRAGON OK..IVE NEVER DRAWN DRAGONS HGHJFJFJF AND IDK THE SIZE COMPARISON..]

25: FISH. ANON.. [you got included last minute HGKDHJSHJSHS but . fish]

26: @lightthepathwithalantern [i hope i drew lantern anon okay,,,they're so cool looking,,,]

27: @spapman [I ALSO HOPE I DREW YOUR SONA OKAY,,, AHHFHGFHDHJD

28: @ru-bwee [thank you for. the plush images. I will use them to mark important events /silly]

29: @bob-the-cemetery-ghost [Oh no,,,also i hope you dont mind being a bit in the background i didnt know how else to include youuu]

[literal walls of text,,hope yall dont mind all the @]

[THANK YOU ALL FOR BEING HERE,,HGHDJSJDFDD!!!!]

[erm,,if yall don't mind,,i hate asking but reblogs please ? i wanna see the art around !!!!]

[mysicklove-main]

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 "𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇"

Pairing: Bestfriend! Denki Kaminari x Gn! Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Friends to Lovers, Claustrophobia? (if you get that from reading idk), swearing, teasing, suggestive comments, me trying (and failing) to make Denki funny, mentions of ex-crush

Summary: Denki gets the bright idea to try and steal your homeroom teacher's sleeping bag. One thing led to another and the two of you end up stuck in a closet, with the addition of a new boyfriend.

Being best friends with Denki Kaminari, was definitely...something. There was not one moment where he didn’t keep you off your toes. You loved him for that. 

You also happened to be in love with the fool. It was easy to fall for that smile, that laughter. It all just drew you in. The two of you would be perfect for each other if he felt the same way. You try not to think about it.

Currently, Denki is in your dorm room. It was 12 am and you were asleep. Like he should be. “Pstt. Y/N wake up!” He whispers yells and you groan as he rips the blanket off of you. “C’mon, I have a really good idea!”

“Denki,” You whine and he grins. “It’s the middle of the night. Go to sleep,” You mumble before tearing the blanket from his hands and spreading it back over your body. 

His smile drops. So, he does the next best thing to wake you up. He jumps on you. “Get off of me, you idiot!” You shriek and he covers your mouth with his hand. He holds up a finger to his mouth, shushing you. You roll your eyes in the darkness.

“You gotta be quiet! Don’t want the others getting the wrong idea about me and my bestie.” He teases, eyes raising mischievously. You push him off you and he whines. “Okay, I’ll stop. But c’mon I have a good prank idea!”

You raise your head at this. “Prank?” You question, trying to stop that smile that forms on your face. If there was one thing you and Denki were good at, it was pranking people.

“Yep! It’s the most perfect, most evil, most hilarious, most-”

“Denki. Get to the point.” You warn, knowing he will go on a ridiculously long rant if you don’t cut him off. Even if you did have feelings for the blonde, it was 12 am you were not up to deal with all his bullshit.

“Prank of all time. It will go down in UA history. People will remember us as, Y/N and Denki, the greatest pranksters of all time.” He sits on his knees in front of you, you see the shadow of his raised fist.

You throw your pillow at him, causing him to fall down on the bed. “Would you just tell me already?” You say, exasperated.

He grabs the pillow and throws it off his face, and then stands on top of the bed. You raise your eyebrows and look up at his shadow. “We are going to steal Mr. Aizawa’s sleeping bag.”

“I’m going back to sleep.”

“Hey! Wait! It’s a good idea, right? What will he do when he comes to class and sees that he can’t sleep?”

“Kill us.” You grab the pillow and rest your head back on it.

“He won’t. I’m too hot to die.”

“Yeah, but you are stupid enough to,” You respond with your eyes closed. 

He sighs dramatically and sits back down, crossing his legs next to your bundled-up figure. “Anyways, back to the point. We are going to steal it. You may be asking yourself, “Oh my super hot and sexy best friend, how are we going to infiltrate the academy?”” His voice poorly mimics yours and you refrain from throwing another pillow at him. “To which I respond, “Dont worry my darling Y/N, I will be here to lead the way, using my quirk to turn off the alarm system, and allowing us to have enough time to go in, grab the sleeping bag, and run out all before the brink of dawn.”

You don’t respond. He lets out another plea, “C’mon Y/N, we will have plenty of time to sleep when we get named the “Greatest Pranksters of all Time”” He shakes your body and you groan.

“You sure we won’t get caught?”

“Positive! I will disable the security cameras.”

You pull the blankets down and sit up, staring at him in the darkness. “Well, y’know I can’t turn down a prank like that.”

He beams.

You both decided to wear all black. Sure, it didn’t really matter due to the security cameras being turned off, but Denki insisted. 

Currently, you were standing in front of the gates of UA, waiting for Denki to arrive. It looks a lot more creepy at night, which you reluctantly take note of with a gulp. 

Suddenly you feel a tap on your back and you almost scream instinctually when you see a black ski mask. The only thing that makes him recognizable was his bright yellow eyes.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and look over him again. His, very much unneeded, ski mask has black cat ears attached to it. “What are you wearing?” You whisper yell and point to the ridiculous ears.

He rubs them with his black leather gloves. “What, you don’t like it? It’s inspired by Catwoman.”   

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You know you are a real hero right?” 

“So you have a problem with guys cosplaying female movie heroes, huh? How bigoted of you, Y/N.” He jokes, clutching at his heart like you genuinely wounded him.

You stare blankly at him, before turning back to the dorm building. “I’m going home.”

“Wait! Im just joking!” He reasons frantically, grabbing your arm to stop you from leaving. He pulls off his mask, exposing the rest of his face. “Is this better?” The blonde sighs and you nod. “Good. Okay, back to mission SMASH”

“Smash?”

“It stands for, Steal Mr. Aizawas sleeping house.”

You cock your head to the side. “It’s not a house though, it’s a bag.”

“SMASB doesn’t sound as good.”

“But that doesn’t–You know what. It doesn’t matter. Alright. Yeah. Mission SMASH.”

The two of you turn your focus back onto the entrance gate of UA. Denki grabs onto the monitor placed in front of the gate that locks and unlocks it. He takes a deep breath, before opening his eyes and activating his quirk. 

He quickly pulls away when the device lights up a multitude of different colors before eventually powering off completely. He looks back at you with a grin, before swinging the door open. 

You can’t help but smile mischievously back. Even with all his ridiculous antics, you were confident that he knew what he was doing.

The two walk up to the main entrance to the door and just like before he disables the alarm and the lock. You open up the door to your pitch-black school and gulp. It was strange seeing it like this. But the two of you were heroes, you were trained to be in uncomfortable situations, so the two of you step inside.

“‘Im going into the back room to disable the security guards. Wait for my signal.” He whispers to you, holding his hand out to signal you to stay put.

“What’s the signal?”

“A yellow canary’s mating call.”

You blink. “How the fuck am I supposed to know what that is?”

“It kinda sounds like an American Goldfinches mating call.”

You pause and stare at him for some time. He waits, meeting your gaze. “Why am I your friend again?” You murmur, before pushing him away toward the back room. He grins, shooting you finger guns, before scampering through the door.

You stand there for a minute awkwardly. “Coo-Coo!” You raise your eyebrows and wait, just to mess with him. “Coo-Coo!” You don’t move. “COO-COO” He basically screams and you fall over into a silent laugh, loving how ridiculous he sounds. “Agent L/N do you copy?” He whispers into his hands, pretending it is a walkie-talkie.

You indulge him like you always do. “Yes, I do, agent dumbass.”

“Good. Follow me!” He whisper yells once again, before grabbing your hand and leading you up the stairs toward your home room. 

When you two arrive at your classroom you pause. 

Denki doesn’t, in fact, he seems way too excited to look through Mr. Aizawa’s stuff. His eyes widen when he sees a hero magazine stuffed into one of your teacher’s drawers. He flips through the pages and stops when he lands on Lady Midnight, who is looking especially suggestive in it. He wiggles his eyebrows at you, that familiar perverted grin on his face. You rip it out of his hands and push it back into the drawer before he could complain.

You open the last drawer and your eyes widen. There it was. Mr. Aizawa’s yellow sleeping bag. You pull it up for the blonde to see. “Bingo.” He grins at you, holding up a hand for a high five. You slap his palm against his with a triumphant smile.

Suddenly you hear a loud booming voice coming from just down the hall. “Hello? Is somebody there?” The two of you freeze, staring at each other, eyes wide in alarm. “I know somebody is around here somewhere. Damn, those kids.” The stranger mutters and the two of you begin to panic.

“We are fucked!” He whispers to you and you nod your head in agreement. You hear the footsteps begin to come closer to you.

That’s when you notice the closet at the end of the classroom. It was large enough to fit two people easily. You grab his hand and quickly stumble over the closet, pushing him in first. You grab the handle and shut the door. 

It’s pitch black. You hear the footsteps walk into the room and Denki uses one hand to cover your mouth and the other to cover his. Your heartbeat picks up. “Damn those kids. Trying to steal from Eraserhead. What a joke,” The man’s gruff voice mutters and you gulp.

You hear the footsteps move and you close your eyes. “Whatever. They must be gone by now. Im going home.” The man says to himself, unaware the two of you are listening. You hear him walk out of the room and Denki removes his hand from your mouth. You sigh in relief once he is out of hearing distance.

“Jeez, that was close. Mission SMASH could have been a bust. Pun intended.” He says quietly and you laugh softly, adrenaline still pulsing through you. He manages to make ever the most intense situations funny. You liked that about him.

“Yeah, that could have been really bad. C’mon lets get out of here,” You reply and Denki nods. You can only barely see his figure. 

He pulls the handle and pushes forward. It doesn’t budge. He shakes it again and pushes harder. It doesn’t budge. He begins to frantically shake it and forces all his strength to push forward. Other than the whine of the metal, it doesn’t budge. “Fuck.” He murmurs and your eyes widen.

“Oh god. Don’t tell me,” You gasp and he slowly nods.

“Yep. Might as well get comfortable. We’re stuck.”

“I’m going to murder you.”

30 minutes have gone by and nothing has worked. So now, the both of you sit on the ground, your backs pressed against the wall with your legs intertwined. You are grateful that it is a big closest because if it were any smaller you would be extremely claustrophobic. At least you have room to move your legs and arms.

The two of you have been chatting for the most part, about nothing too important. You have to wait until morning for when your classmates can get you out. “Do you remember the time I tried doing a backflip from the roof to the pool?”

“Yes! You made me record it! I thought you were going to die, you idiot! Scared the absolute shit out of me.” You grin, thinking back on it now, but at the moment, he did look way too high up. Granted, he did end up with bruises from the water from the jump so you weren’t too far off.

“That was crazy, but fun. What would I have done without my adorable best friend to cheer me on?” You try not to blush at his light remark.

You change the subject. “Yeah. Hmm, what else can we talk about.” You tap your chin and furrow your eyebrows, trying to think back 

“You wanna hear about how I used to have a crush on Jirou?”

No, you didn’t. But you weren’t going to make your crush obvious. “Sure, Denki.”

“It was back in our first year, when you and I were nothing but classmates. Back when I used to flirt with every girl I saw.”

“You still do that.”

“Shut it. I’m getting better! I don’t flirt with every girl now.” You roll your eyes but laugh. He was right. “Anyways, something about her just kinda stood out to me you know?” 

“Yeah, I know exactly what you are talking about.” He eyes you in the darkness, skeptical of something, but doesn’t say anything.

“Had that laugh that drew me in. The smile lighted up the room. And when she played that guitar, the look of pure joy on her face, just really did something to me.” You bury yourself into your knees. You hate this. “But I don’t know. We wouldn’t have worked. She doesn’t deal with my antics as well as you do. She wouldn’t try sneaking into the school with me in the middle of the night like you did. I don’t think anyone would. ” 

You smile at this, cheeks now warm, you’re glad he can’t see you. You feel giddy at the remark, but try to hold it in to match your usual teasing persona. “Can’t keep saying that, you’ll never get a girlfriend.”

He goes silent. It stays silent for a couple of long seconds and you fear you have said something that made him upset and that was hard to do. “Denki?”

A small soft voice in the darkness calls out, “Y/N, do you like me?”

Your eyes widen and your world comes crashing down. He knew. For god’s sake, he knew. You began to panic. “W-What, like you? You-You’re being ridiculous! How could I like an idiot like you?”

His tone changes, quiet, but sharper. “Is the thought of liking me so unreasonable?”

You are thrown off guard. You don’t know what to say to make this whole thing right. “No! Of course not. It’s definitely reasonable. It’s just–We are best friends, you know? You totally wouldn’t be into me like that.”

He goes silent again and you hear him grip his black plants. “I like you.”

“What?”

“I like you, Y/N. Y’know like romantically?”

You shake your head, tears begin to line your eyes. You have been wanting to hear that line for two years now. “Stop it. It’s not funny anymore. I can deal with your teasing flirting, but you are going too far, Kaminari.”

“I’m not joking. I like you.” He pauses, thinking. “I like your smile. I like your laugh. I like the way you tease me.” His voice begins to get louder. “I like it when you roll your eyes at me. I like it when you pull pranks with me. I like it when you don’t laugh or make fun of me when I fail a test. I like it when–god I don’t know, I just like you okay?” The closet was beginning to warm up. The both of you were red in the face, and neither of you could see the other.

 It’s your turn to go silent as you begin to process everything. 

The silence begins to make the blonde panic. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable and I didn’t want to do this in you know–a closet, on a ridiculous mission called SMASH. It doesn’t even make sense! Why the hell did I choose such a stupid name.” He stops his nervous ramblings when he hears the words he desperately craves.

“I like you too.”

He looks up, hopeful.“Really?”

You gulp and try to maintain your blush.“Yeah. For a while now. I was uh, too scared to say anything.”

“What? For real? We could have been dating for so long if you did!

The mood switches, back to the lighter one you guys had earlier. “Oh like you are one to talk. Why didn’t you confess!”

“Because I thought you would reject me!”

“Well, I thought you would reject me!” 

The two of you break out into laughter like you usually do. After some time it begins to die down and the two of you try to stare at one another in the darkness. You only manage to see his shadow, but you slowly lean in. He does the same. “Wait,” Denki says and you frown. Did he not want to kiss you?

Suddenly his hands on are your face. “What are you doing.”

“Trying to find your lips. Already messed up the confession, can’t mess up our first kiss too.” At his words, you quickly lean forward and press your lips to his, not giving a damn if you accidentally peck him on the cheek. You don’t miss.

Denki is startled, but leans into the kiss immediately. He grabs your face into his hands and presses his body closer to yours, which was not hard to do considering the little space. 

When you pull away, you wish desperately you could see his face. You hope that he was just as flustered and happy as you were. “Was even better than in the dreams,” He mumbles and you laugh.

“Pervert! Having dreams of me already?”

“Oh, like you weren’t writing in your little journal about how, “I developed a schoolgirl crush on my best friend!” He shoots and your eyes widen.

“How did you know that?” You shriek and he begins to laugh.

“I didn’t! I was messing with you. Oh my god you’re adorable, and I thought I was lovesick! At least I can’t control my dreams.”

You use your hands to cover your face in embarrassment. “I hate you.”

He hums dramatically, tapping his chin in the darkness. “Strange. I swear I just heard you confessing your undying love to me. Maybe that was my other best friend.”

“Mineta?” You tease and he shoots you a glare in the darkness.

“How many times have I told you, I stopped being his friend after our first year! You’re never going to let it go!” He whines and you laugh.

You run your finger through his hair. “Maybe I’ll forgive you if you ask me out.”

You barely got to finish the second your response before he was stumbling out, “Y/N do you want to date me?”

“Hmm no, I don’t think so.”

“What?” He yells in pure shock and you quickly press your lips to his. This time you did accidentally land on the side of his mouth, but it was easy to fix.

“I’m messing with you. Of course, I’ll date you, Denki.” You wish you could see the smile that lights up the blonde’s face.

A couple of hours later, your classmates found you and Denki passed out and curled up against one another still in the small metal closet. Nobody was surprised.

[coff33notforme]

Can I request a wally with a child reader? I wonder how wally would take care of a child reader? Maybe he’s like a older brother or dad idk

A/n: Omfg I loved this prompt so much I wrote three whole pages in one sitting, I kinda want to make this into a series more in depth, I have so many more ideas for this concept so let me know what you guys think!

Pairing: Wally Darling and Gn Child Reader ( Platonic, Fluff, slight mentions of Possessiveness)

Oneshot, and Headcannons

Wally was awoken one night by the repeated slamming of Home closing and opening the door to his room, groggily Wally got out of bed, at first to inquire why Home had been so insistent on awaking him.

But he was stopped when he was alerted to the sound of crying drifting in through the now opened window near the back of home.

Wally hesitated, that side of the house was the side facing the woods, the restricted area, he paused unsure of what to do.

But what if someone needed his help? Maybe the risk outweighed his curiosity, but the more he thought about it the more anxiety bubbled up inside his chest, that was rare, this couldn’t be good.

Without anymore time to think Wally opened Homes front door, the warm night air caressed his face gently, the smell of wet grass filled his senses as he paused drinking in his senses as the wind blew past him without thought, that was until the muffled sobs began again quieter, faint even, but still evident.

Wally turned the corner walking along the side of home as he drew nearer and nearer the cries becoming more clear before they ceased.

Wally paused his body growing stiff, taking in a breath he moved the brush aside revealing a small child, cowering in the middle of the bushes, their head tucked beneath their arms, before they lifted their head, their fearful eyes met his, their face stained with tears and their eyes puffy from crying, they flinched scooting back in fear.

Wally raised his hands in defense as the child began to cry again, Wally was clueless to an extent, sure he was made to teach kids lessons and guide them in some sort of way but he himself hadn’t actually ever interacted with a real child before, especially not one who seemed to be so full of fear.

Wally frantically stepped closer in an attempt to soothe the crying child, but this only seemed to make things worse as their cries became screams of protest, with no sign of getting closer to the child Wally tried a different approach.

“I’m not going to hurt you, I’m a friend, I only want to help. Is that okay with you?” for a moment the child paused, their brows becoming furrowed, as they glared with red eyes, clearly skeptical of the offer 

“I-I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” the child stammered, crossing their arms defensively

Wally smiled gently

“Well, I’m Wally, and your name is…?” he gestured, hoping they would catch on

They sniffled, before stuttering out their reply

“I’m Y/n.” it was short and simple but it was enough to make they give a shy smile to the puppet

Wally gave a grin in return scooting beside you as you leaned into Wally, Wally tensed for a moment before settling into the sudden contact

“What are you doing here all by yourself, Y/n?” Wally asked gently, earning a small frown from you

“I don’t know, I don’t remember how I got here, I just woke up without my parents…” you trailed off again your eyes welling with tears alarmed Wally dropped the subject, wrapping his arms around you instead.

“Hey, I’m sorry I won’t bring it up again. But don’t you worry friend, we'll get you back to your parents, for now I’ll look after you.”

you nodded into Wally as he scooped you up carrying you into the house before setting you down on the floor of the guest room

“You can sleep here tonight.” he offered, but he felt your hand becoming tighter around his, he looked down to see you anxiously peering into the dark room before looking back up at him with wide eyes

“Can I just sleep with you tonight?” you whispered, Wally smiled gently as he picked you up again before giving you a soft bop on the nose

“Of course you can, don’t you worry bud, I won’t let anything get you.” you giggled playfully, as Wally began to walk to his room setting you down on the bed before he tucked you in, he was about to walk to his side before he stopped upon feeling you tug on his sleeve

“Could you give me a kiss goodnight? I usually get one from my parents, but their not here.” he nodded before laying a soft kiss on your forehead whispering goodnight before making himself comfortable under the covers as he felt sleep fall upon him 

The next morning Wally awoke to you shaking him with a whine, groggily he rubbed his eyes, suddenly remembering what had happened last night 

“What's going on kiddo?” he asked with a yawn to which you groaned 

“I’m hungry, and you’ve been sleeping forever.” you cried, Wally hummed slowly rising from the bed as you dragged him from the room, waiting as he took you into the kitchen.

Rifling through the cabinets before he found an unopened box of cereal, opening the fridge and pouring you some milk he set the bowl down on the table, which apparently, was too tall for you to reach.

Wally lifted you onto the seat before he pulled a chair out from across from you sitting down as you scarfed down your breakfast

“Do you remember anything before you got here?” Wally asked curiously, you looked up to the ceiling in thought as milk dripped down your face, you shook your head, Wally sighed trying to think of what to do next

While living with Wally you would take frequent trips to Frank's house, though you, yourself wouldn’t actually talk to Frank on most days Julie would be around so she would keep you preoccupied while Wally spoke to Frank, you weren’t really sure what it was they were talking about but it seemed important

Wally had promised you that you would see your parents again after all

When living in the neighborhood if you went anywhere you were always with Wally, he simply couldn’t let you out of his sight for one moment, whenever you weren’t where he could see you he would go into a frenzy until you were back in his line of sight

Overtime you grew used to the neighborhood, all of Wally's friends were extremely nice and you saw them often enough to begin to trust them as much as you trusted Wally

You and Wally begin to grow into the Father figure role that had blossomed over your shared time together, and Wally felt that overtime you two had grown to completely trust each other, you were inseparable! 

Wally was extremely loving and patient with you even when you were upset, a very stark contrast to when he first met you, your presence in his Home began to become increasingly evident, your drawing were strung on the fridge for all to see, your toys and clothes set up around your room like you had always been there, it felt like there was a new warmth added to the house, a refreshing touch of youthful joy made Wally feel alive again

But who new how long this would last, what if one day as mysteriously as you had come you vanished, as though you had never even existed, Wally had promised to take you back to your ‘real’ home, but what if that was something he couldn’t do? What if even if he could, he didn’t want to?

The idea of letting you go was something Wally couldn’t bear, but was it really his decision?

AAAAAA I loved this so much! <3333

[aquaquadrant]

Hi there. I’m going insane and it’s your fault. Like I discovered your absolute emotional masterpiece of a fanfic the other day and it’s all I think about anymore I’m so obsessed; I downloaded tumblr bc of you and I don’t really know how this site works but I do know how to click the ask button so that’s your problem now. I got words for you

First off: HOLy the writing and the voices are so good??? Like the characters say things the way their irl counterparts would say it? How?? Teach me your ways? Actually tho what did you do to learn to do that, is it innate, do you practice?

Second: “He wouldn’t have known the sight of Tango’s pale skin flushing bright red all the way down his chest.” That sentence just kinda stuck out to me from the last chapter… for some reason... anyways (idk what my point is here but it sure has got me thinking thoughts :P )

Third: I said I was obsessed, and I think it was an understatement. I didn’t study for my chem final because of this (still got an A tho so dw) and I went to bed for three days straight thinking about it and I woke up every morning thinking about it. (It took a solid hour to snap myself out of it when I actually needed to get work done lol) And on the plane ride home for break I drew some things so I’ll just leave these here if you don’t mind (umm ignore the tango faces on the first page and his left hand on the second, there's something Wrong™ about them I gotta practice, ok?)

idk if the formatting is good or whatever but here they are

As you can see I love love love the scene after the nightmare. If I remember correctly, Tango started wearing the gloves to protect his claws so they could heal after he escaped, and then when Jimmy gets hurt he just instinctively gives them to him?? Hello, the symbolism??? Tango just surrenders his own protection, both physically, because he would rather protect Jimmy, but also emotionally bc it immediately reveals what he considers a flaw in himself, monstrous, hideous. And Jimmy sees him throw the walls up again, “He quickly shoves the gloves at Jimmy, moving to get up. “I’ll uh, I’ll get another pair tomorrow-”” but Jimmy won’t let him, instead looks at what could be considered Tango’s entire soul —his trauma, his Hels origin, the feral, blaze side of him, the side that lies and hides and lashes out at any who get too close, the “ugliest” parts of him —and loves him despite it? Even sees the beauty in him? Yea, no, I’m normal about that—

Anyways idk how long these things are supposed to be but I have a couple more thoughts so you’re still stuck with me. Ummm let’s see… I adore your impulse design. So I’m taking that, thanks. (If that’s ok) also was thinking about how Jimmy would wear shirts with the wings getting in the way (see bottom of 2nd pic), and then thought maybe that’s why he’s so good at embroidery or sewing in general, cuz he has to make custom clothes. And then I thought what if he made some *cough* outfits and had Tango judge them… or asked for help putting on/taking off a particularly difficult shirt... haven’t had time to draw that yet but ya know… one day. Aaaaand the blaze rods could theoretically make a pretty cool fire crown when Tango's angry, also blazes do damage when you touch them, but I don't think you get set on fire? So it must be the blaze rods themselves doing damage, so I imagine when Tango's fighting they swirl around him both to attack whoever gets too close and to block any incoming projectiles (see middle left of 1st pic). +gradients on the blaze rods :]

Last thing, I showed my sister the fic last night and she’s already read through it twice so you’ve infected two of us. We were theorizing on what’ll happen next chapter. We both think that the others will piece together, to some extent, Tango’s backstory before they figure out how to remove the collar, what with the cuffs he wears, the comments Atlas made about a farm, Atlas’s mentioning about using Jimmy that way for his feathers, etc etc. and the comment that Tango can hear everything? Yea, no, when that collar comes off he’s gonna be distraught, I’m wagering that everything immediately bursts into flames around him or something (cuz that’d be cool). I think he'll probably try to run away, too, but we'll see

Anyways, that’s not all my thoughts but this is getting pretty long, so maybe I’ll send another ask later if that’s alright. Have a good day! Post again soon! Please. Please I'm begging you. For my sanity plea-

(actually tho take ur time. quality is worth it, and this is nothing but quality)

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! omg welcome. this was genuinely SUCH a lovely ask to read, but i wanna take the time to properly answer it so i’m gonna continue under the cut cause boy can i ramble

first off: HELLO, you got a tumblr bc of HTP?? incredible. i’m honored that this gay angsty little block man au was your introduction to the hellsite (affectionate). and don’t worry, i welcome asks no matter the length (tho i might not get to everything in a timely manner)

second of all: i’m SO happy you enjoyed my character voices. that’s definitely something that’s taken a bit of practice, especially for more understated characters that don’t have super obvious or unique vocal traits/vernaculars. i find it helpful to a) have spent a decent amount of time watching the source material and b) always go over my dialogue with the character’s voice in my mind, and see if it sounds like something they’d actually say. ofc, sometimes liberties can be taken based on the plot/setting of a fic but generally i spend a lot of time and effort on getting character voices right, so i appreciate the appreciation <3

thirdly: i like that particular sentence too ;0

fourth: THAT ART THO??? oh man. impulse looks amazing (i’ve always loved demon!impulse and gotta credit @lunarcrown for bringing that vision to life 💃) and the wings are SO well done, like you conveyed that leathery thin bat skin texture perfectly. the various tangos are SICK, i luuuuv seeing him in full blaze rage mode, using those blaze rods to their full effect. and those hands… goddamn. not only do i respect the hand anatomy but the ROSES… the shackles and their metallic texture… the gradient on tango’s claws… chef’s kiss 💋👌 and THANK YOUUU the post-nightmare scene was one of my favorites from that chapter, and you’ve summed it up beautifully.

moving on: as with all of lunar’s designs, she’s happy to inspire so BEHOLD, DEMON IMPULSE UPON YE (that’s a yes from both of us LOL) i love ur idea about jimmy making custom shirts to work around his wings, that’s one of those little details i never put much thought into but it fits so nicely with him being into embroidery. so jimmy def makes a lot of his own clothes (and occasionally some for tango), co-signed and approved. and ur on the right track about tango’s blaze rods- most of his defensive fire comes directly from them, doing that crazy swirly fireball thing that actual blaze do, but he does also have the ability to produce fire from his hands, he just doesn’t do it often. it takes a bit more concentration and practice, and he spent so long trying not to use his abilities that it doesn’t come second nature to him anymore. he was way more of a fire starter as a kid in hels.

last but not least: AWW it’s so sweet u got ur sister into the au (lord knows i’ve dragged mine into many a fandom 😂) glad y’all enjoyed it so much, AND now u have someone to theorize with 👀 i won’t say anything more on the matter other than i hope to get the next chapter out over the next couple weeks, so stay tuned…

[chibishortdeath]

Ok ok so this one needs context, it’s like half a shitpost half an actual artwork and it all happened because of the tag on this post that I ran into before I had an account:

#scene legend!

So uh, I thought about that for a really long time. The sheer hilarity of calling Simon a scene legend, so I drew something silly >:3c.

You gotta see the context before you see the art trust me on this one it’s important—

So this exists now lol. Scene legend Simon everybody, Konami hire me to make character costumes please— (reform your company first)

I debated making the hair primarily red, but I thought yellow with a red underside looked way cooler :3. Middle school me would’ve DIED for hair like that. The raccoon stripe ear tails are a nod to when Haunted Castle gave him blue hair. I could’ve given him a bit of green since he had that in a palette swap in Dream Mix TV Fighters, but I didn’t know at the time of drawing it (>~< ). A lot of the grid patterns are based on color palettes and textures found in the NES games!!! The shoulder armor being black with the blue outline is based on the Simon’s Quest text boxes!!! There’s also a lot of item sprites!!! And the sharpie writing on his shoes say on his right “The morning sun has vanquished the horrible night”and out of view “bloody tears”, and the left says “vampire killer” and “what a horrible night to have a curse”!!!!!!!! :D. At a certain point this was just a challenge to see how many references I could put in one outfit. Tbh I think I could do more than this, but yeah. Idk how to end sentences and paragraphs uh anyway—

Bonus silly doodles with Judgement Simon being emo lol (he’s got that Death Note shirt) and some old memes I guess based on the whip spinning mechanic. d(•w• ) Anyway I should draw Simon as a HotTopic worker someday—

[good-beanswrites]

oooh, for the drabble prompts may I request Books or Night? with whatever characters speak to you for this one <3 thank you!!

Ahh thank you pal! :D I went with Books for Mahiru and Mikoto (I mean it takes place at night but idk if that counts lol)

From this ask game

Mahiru read a lot of books. She read a lot at her university. She read a lot on her own time. She could recall endless romance novels in which the knight in shining armor came to rescue his lover from her dark, musty dungeon cell. The thing was, she couldn't think of a single one in which the fair maiden had killed him before he got the chance.

She huddled in the back of her cell. Her headache had been a permanent one the last few days; Shidou wasn't sure when he'd have more painkillers for her. She didn't mind. It wasn't her head that hurt the most.

Hands clawed at her chest. She'd read so much at her university, and even the most unhappy endings weren't quite like this. There was always a message, a meaning to it all. Her thoughts returned to the classroom, when she drew out little charts and diagrams plotting out books. There always came a turning point. There always came a moment where everything became clear, even if it didn't improve. So, where was hers? When would this all make sense?

In the middle of her desperate search for a pattern amid everything that had happened to her -- everything that had happened because of her -- a knock echoed off her cell door.

"Come in..."

She was surprised when Mikoto swung it open. He gave her a slightly awkward, "hey."

Mahiru flinched as he tossed something her way. She barely caught an apple in her hands.

"You didn't show for dinner."

"T-thank you." She was slowly growing accustom to the new Mikoto that had started appearing around the prison. Now that had been a story-worthy twist. "Sorry to make you worry. My head was hurting, I just wanted to rest in here."

He nodded. "Yeah, I get that."

Whether it was the brief kinship she felt remembering how he'd been complaining of constant headaches, or the fluttering in her chest from the thoughtful gift he'd brought after noticing her absence, or even just a lapse in judgement due to her injured brain, she blurted, "can I ask you something?"

"Hm? Shoot."

She hoped what she was about to say wasn't ridiculous to him. She looked down at the apple.

"I... keep thinking of my favorite books. In all of them, the hero comes in to save the day just in time. But my hero... he... I mean, I..." She didn't need to explain it to him. Her smile filled with sorrow. "Between that and what happened with Kotoko... I'm realizing that no one is coming to save me. You and Amane, you don't seem as worried about it. How do you still have hope that someone's going to help?"

After an agonizing moment in which she was sure he was going to laugh, Mikoto crossed the room to her. He knelt on her bed. His expression radiated an intensity she wasn't used to seeing on him. He took her by the shoulders. His grip wasn't painful, but it was unshakable. His voice, too, came out commanding, and not cruel.

"Listen to me. No one's coming for you. You're right. No one else is going to help you get out of here. That's why you need to do it. I know it's not easy, but you can't just roll over and let this place walk all over you. The only one who will always be there to save you, is you. You need to be the hero, okay?"

She stared at him with round eyes. It wasn't the answer she'd been expecting. Or maybe, it wasn't the answer she'd wanted. She spoke with instinctual protests.

"But, but --! I'm not strong, or smart like the others. What can I even do for myself?"

Mikoto held her gaze, and she began to understand. "It's just like the stories. You do anything you can. You do everything you can."

[lilac-5ky]

The Embodiment of a Dream, pt.1 (Takasugi x Courtesan Fem!Reader)

A/N: Not me starting a new multi-part fic amidst another one and a pile of unwritten requests. But I've had this idea for a long while and the only reason it's multi-part is that I needed two parts to finish it. So, without any further ado, here's the first part, hope you'll enjoy it!

Plot: Struggling between the identity of the Kiheitai commander and his own, Takasugi starts visiting a Yoshiwara courtesan, hoping to find meaning, himself, and perhaps a bond that can't be bought.

Warning: First part doesn't include smut, but NSFW mentions are there. Also, mentions of blood, alcohol, and profanity? Idk what to warn against lmao just read and see for yourselves.

Part 2

(he's so soft and precious when he smiles i love him more than anything)

The first time you saw him, he was dressed in a long imposing coat with golden accents, an olive-green vest, and a white headband whose edges flew at every gust of wind. His expression hardened and stiff, the sole unreadable among his impressionable peers. A war general, the girls said, watching him and his company parade down the streets. And that was all they did. Fawn over his prideful posture and the sublime features of a face they hadn’t quite perceived, with the keen interest of a predator and the cowardice of a prey.

One would think that Yoshiwara was sated with beauty, and yet a pretty face rarely went unnoticed (especially when the vast majority of visitors consisted of middle-aged men with receding hairlines). But to you, all was fair game. A client was a client, and a wad of cash was a wad of cash, and for as long as you received the latter, you had no real preference for the former.

Unwilling to drown in the excessive drool that littered the second-floor balcony, you feigned an excuse regarding the stuffiness of the atmosphere and the suddenness of a client’s arrival and absented yourself to your room, the much-debated stranger soon fading from memory.

The second time you saw him came unexpectedly. The frigid man in the bright purple yukata and the contrasting haori who’d booked your company for an entire night was, unequivocally, him. An older version of him who had maintained his solemn expression and taste in golden hues and headpieces, if one considered the bandages over his left eye as such.

You didn’t speak a word of your one-sided acquaintance and led him to your quarters like you would with any other ordinary customer. Except he was unlike any other ordinary customer you had the honor of entertaining.

He was quiet. Skeptical. Withdrawn. He sat beside you and didn’t say a thing for hours. Didn’t even drink the drinks you served or give you more than a look’s attention as if this was his way of avenging your initial indifference. Perhaps that’s where he drew amusement from.

Mute stillness reigned in the room until the early rays of sunlight broke through the half-shut blinds, forcibly concluding your time together. He tossed in a few extra coins, thanked you, and left.

You’d kept company with more men than you could count, yet never in that sense. Some were cordial enough to engage in small talk and queries about your life. Others had no qualms about groping your breasts and forcing your legs open the minute you let them in. No matter how different each night began, it always ended in rustled sheets and a noticeable stain somewhere between your thighs. Such was the life of a Yoshiwara woman, and such was their sense of company.

But not his. He took pride in being the exception to that rule.

His visits were typically on nights when the moon shone brightest and the incoming tide of guests was great enough to conceal his traces. He ignored the various offers from rival houses and charged straight into yours, paying a steep price to the lady in command, who greedily seized the cash and sent him up to your room with a sardonic smile and a near-devilish “Have a good time!”

You pitied him, not because he was lacking in any way, but because he didn’t seem to be from these places. Because, if he were, then he certainly wouldn’t have spent a fortune on someone lesser than an oiran. And yet, in spite of his obliviousness, the man was determined to ask for one service, and one service only: a night with you. No distractions, no questions asked. Just you.

There was a time when you’d fallen sick during one of his visits. A vile flu had kept you (and many other girls) in bed for a week straight, leaving you so weak that you could barely move past the threshold to receive your meals. And with your days numbered and a regrettable lack of fulfillment plaguing you harder than the sickness itself, a rumor went around about a striking young man who’d turned down the house’s single most desirable girl in favor of a certain bedridden average-looking courtesan.

And while you thought this was the very end of your pitiful existence, you found spite in you to carry on and live a day longer, thinking you now owed him not only for his unfaltering loyalty but for putting that overconfident witch in her place. You got better, and no later than a day after color had returned to your cheeks, he too did, with a bag full of medicine in hand. Cough syrups, painkillers, and flavored antipyretics; everything a sick person could dream of asking for was in that bag.

Leaving you to figure out their purpose on your own, he reclined against the closest wall and indulged in his kiseru’s delight, his eye eventually falling shut. You took the chance and scooted closer, your intention to express your gratitude forsaken the second you looked at him. A well-defined jawline and a nicely curved nose. Lips that frowned and brows that furrowed even in his sleep. Soft skin, high cheekbones, and of course purple strands curtaining his signature bandages.

Whatever insight or intuition those girls on the balcony thought they had was wrong. Sublime was too small a word to describe him. His beauty was transcendent, and as much as you’d like to pretend otherwise, you physically couldn’t. Your fingers were already in his hair, gently parting it in half to reveal more of his face.

He was the first man who hadn’t made any advances whatsoever towards you, and that made you all the more ardent to touch him, though, as luck would have it, you came to realize that he was never asleep. Instead, he was staring at you in a baleful kind of way that would frighten even the gods, forcing you to jolt away and tumble on your knees.

“Are you feeling any better?”

Given your state, his question felt at best out of place and at worst a mockery. Your kimono’s layers were crumpled and your cheeks were burning with embarrassment. If you could dig a hole to escape his stare, you most definitely would, but then again, that wasn’t what he asked.

You answered him with a reluctant nod, which he acknowledged with a seemingly relieved sigh, and when he went back to his previous plane of tranquility, you knew better than to disturb him again. You waited out the dawn until harrowing shadows began to scatter across the paper-thin walls, and until he’d risen to his feet, his kiseru packed inside his yukata and his haori draped over his shoulders.

“My name is Y/N!” You declared.

His grip froze around the doorknob as he slowly turned around and did the one thing you’d never seen him do before.

“I know that.” He smiled.

“I— of course you do.” You replied stupefied. “But I wanted to properly introduce myself. You’ve spent a lot of money on me, and this,” you lifted the bag, “is a kindness I’ll never forget. Thank you!”

“Shinsuke.”

“What?”

“Isn’t this what you wanted to know?” He smirked. “I’m Shinsuke.”

You brought your hands down your thighs and bowed your head. “Thank you, Shinsuke-sama.”

“No need for formalities. Just Shinsuke is fine.”

“But you are a client! I could never-”

“You use honorifics for all men you sleep with?”

His comment stung as badly as that one time you’d pricked your pinky with a needle. Bad enough for you to whimper, though not badly enough to justify your reaction.

“No need to answer.” He shrugged. “After all, I’ll be seeing that for myself. Goodnight.”

“Good…night.”

A month went by without any of Shinsuke’s challenging visits, and even though your confidence still carried bruises, you found yourself hoping against an untimely termination of your relationship. He was a fascinating individual. A difficult man whose brooding demeanor, intractable attitude, and lack of subtlety worked to his advantage, underlining a well-disguised kindness. At least that was the image your brief encounters painted, up to the moment of his reappearance.

He stood outside the door as an inky silhouette, with his unlit kiseru dangling from his teeth and a wide sedge hat that barely fit through. You helped strip him off his outwear and accompanied him to the table, where freshly served alcohol awaited; sake of exquisite quality from Tosa, and two empty cups he wasted no time filling, before downing his share in one go.

You didn’t expect him to be a great drinker, or, really, a drinker at all. Not when he’d been this adamant on maintaining sobriety during the entire of your acquaintance. But once he brought the cup to his lips a second time without so much as wincing, you realized plenty was left untold between you.

“Are you gonna keep staring at me?”

Your chin nearly avalanched from your palm all the way to your elbow. A mistake this elementary was inexcusable for a courtesan more than halfway through her contract.

Unlike other, more profitable houses, yours had three simple rules to uphold: no looking unless you are looked first, for some clients are irritable and prefer to be in charge of the seduction. No drinking unless you are asked first, for one should be sober enough to perform their duty with poise. And finally, no forming personal attachments, for your job is to sell love, not fall prey to it.

So far, you’ve broken only one of those rules.

“Apologies, Shinsuke-san.” You averted your gaze to the floor.

“Better.” He commented, sliding one of the cups in your direction.

“I’m okay.” You shook your head, though the choice was already made on your account. “Thank you.”

The warmth of the chilled alcohol poured down your throat, and with it, much-needed liquid courage seeped inside your veins.

“You wanted to drink and yet,” Shinsuke pointed as he treated you to another shot, “you had none until I offered.”

“It’s impolite.” You said.

“Says who?” He asked.

“The rules”

“And who made the rules?”

“Lady did.”

“And where is that old hag now?”

You bit your tongue and that was all the answer he needed to corner you.

“Don’t bring up such lame excuses again. If you want something, ask for it, and if you don’t, deny it. I paid for a woman, not a puppet.”

“A courtesan’s life is more akin to that of a lifeless puppet than a woman,” you meant to object, though you couldn’t bring yourself to. This man looked you in the eye as if he meant his every word with utmost sincerity. As if to him, you really were a woman worth considering an equal, not one whose company he’d purchased with money, and for once, you found yourself eager to be worthy of the price.

“One more.” You gestured your cup and he obliged with an inconspicuous smirk.

“One more.”

Another rule broken.

The crescent moon waned past the murky clouds above, the bleakness of the skies identical to Yoshiwara’s once brazen hatch. Bustling were the streets to the uninterrupted traffic below, both newcomers and pleasure district connoisseurs moving side by side like a herd of mismatched sheep. And among the herd, the familiar presence of a man stood out, bringing about an indefinite end to your night’s dullness.

You rushed to your wardrobe’s mirror, ensuring that your garments —a dragonfly-patterned kimono of raspberry color and a lime-green obi tied to the front— were all in the right place, leaving only a fraction of your nape and ankles uncovered, before hurrying to the door.

A near-affable grin was plastered on his face from one ear to the other, making you wonder whether hell had frozen over, or something good had actually happened, a theory that confirmed itself as soon as he asked you to whip out the shamisen and entertain him. But when your fingers struck the first few chords of the song, his smile faded along with his amusement.

“Y/N.”

You raised your chin to face him, though there was no need. He was already beside you, dragging that shamisen away from your hands without even bothering to ask for permission. You didn’t mind. If anything, you were preoccupied with analyzing the brief imprint his fingers left upon yours.

What kind of occupation could a man with such delicate fingers have?

“In the right hands,” Shinsuke interrupted, “a shamisen can become an instrument of death.” He said, adjusting his grip over the instrument’s neck.

“Are you suggesting my playing could cause death?”

“On the contrary,” he smirked, “one should entrust you with neither music nor murder because you’d half-ass both.”

“That bad?”

He shook his head. “If you want your music to be worth listening to, then you should at least channel some emotion into it. A feeling, a memory, a thought, something.”

Slowly, he began strumming the strings in a seemingly unruly order, turning silence into sound, and sound into magic of the most captivating kind. This was sorrow, and this was regret, and this was a sonnet just as it was a requiem. A melody you’d never imagine a mere shamisen to produce.

“Remorse.” You concluded after he’d played the final note. “Your technique is masterful, but constricted. As if playing each chord to its full potential would break it.”

The corners of his mouth curved to a subtle smile that neither confirmed nor denied your suspicions.

“May I?” You asked.

Shinsuke dropped the instrument on your lap, while he sat back on his cushion and dragged his kiseru out of his yukata.

With one hand forming a loose grip around the shamisen’s neck, you plucked its strings with the bachi, trying your hardest to answer his tune with one of equal sentiment.

You drifted in your own memories, digging for a past where the sky was light blue instead of ebony black and the crystal waters of the ocean glimmered in the sunlight. Tiny boats stocked with fish sailed side by side, the fishermen calling out to the merchants to help unload the goods.

Somewhere between the crowd the faces of those you knew as family came to be, smiling and waving at you, as if they weren’t the faces of the parents who’d sold you off for less than wares, and as if the little sister you’d struggled to save hadn’t perished in the war with them.

And suddenly you realized you must have too been standing in the water, because you were rapidly sinking past neon lights and tea ceremonies, lovers who threw their greedy hands to have a piece of you, and envious women who wanted nothing more than to erase you. And you would have let yourself be erased, had it not been for the face of a man who listened to your song with compassion and intrigue, understanding all your tongue kept hidden.

“You are an interesting woman.” He mumbled, drawing his kiseru away. “Be it ‘hope in despair’, or ‘despair in hope’, you truly are interesting.”

“I’m humbled!” You bowed your head in acceptance of the compliment.

Rather than bringing the pipe back to his mouth, Shinsuke held it close to yours and ushered you to take a puff. You curled your lips around the tip, sucking the smoke in, and then twirled it around your tongue, secretly hoping that some of his taste was carried with. He watched you intently, his green eye refusing to look away even as he fell back to his seat.

Clouds of foggy smoke kept filling the room until he too became smoke that vanished.

“Only you are my heart’s master,” You beamed, nuzzling to the man’s arm while you walked him to the door.

Disgusting.

“Then what should I bring you from my travels? Some silk? Some gold? Perhaps some lace?” He asked, using your lacy undergarments as an excuse to grope your exposed skin.

Disgusting.

“Please, don’t!” You chuckled, not-so-jokingly pushing his hand off. “What will your wife say?”

“That old shrew doesn’t have half your charm, Y/N. She’d look no better than a bear in a bathing suit.” He sighed. “Come on, just one more for the road?” He awaited no answer before burying his head between your breasts and kissing them hard.

Disgusting.

“Please, stop, you’ll miss your boat!”

“You are so considerate of me.” He pulled himself off you. “I’ll write you, Y/N.”

“Have a safe trip, master! I love you!” Your confession brought his lips to your cheek a final time, making you wish you’d never said that out loud.

Disgusting.

“You are the light of my life! Goodbye!” And with that, the door closed behind him.

Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting, dis-gus-ting!

Everything felt so damn dirty and disgusting that you wanted nothing more than to claw your way out of your own skin. Every man had the exact same desires. To be pampered and be pleased. To be convinced of affections you lacked, and to be affirmed that in this floating world a hint of realness was meant for them and them only.

But if they thought themselves this special, why did they all ask for the same things? Why did their touch feel identical and numb, and why was there no substance behind their hollow words? Why could they not be him?

Your fists balled around the loose layers of your kimono, viciously yanking them off your body until you were met with the bare reflection of a stranger in the mirror. Though that person had your hair and eyes, you couldn’t recognize it anymore. The little girl you knew to be you was long gone, giving way to this distraught young woman with smudged-up lipstick and mascara running down her face.

She reached into your closet and pulled out a silky robe with a pattern of red cranes on the back. It was a gift, you remembered once you saw her wrap it neatly around her waist. A gift from a client whose name you couldn’t recall, for a forgettable night, deleted from your memory. And while the woman appeared strikingly beautiful in it, all you thought about was how utterly filthy and repulsing the sight was.

Nothing in this room belonged to you. Not the fabrics, not the mirror, not even the reflection staring back at you. Everything served as a reminder of a dream that existed between the blurred lines of fiction and reality. A dream you could never wake up from, for that dream had become the very essence of your fragile existence.

You saw the woman leave and you had no choice other than to follow, taking step after step outside your room’s four walls and into the empty corridor that led to the house’s shared baths. Thankfully no other girl was around. Everyone was booked for the night and they shouldn’t be back any moment soon, sparing you from the intolerable idle chatter you despised.

You swapped your robe for a towel and quickly found all that was needed: a cloth, a stool, and a bucket that you filled up with fresh warm water. The woman was there too, her tired expression flickering between the swaying ripples of the bucket. You rolled the cloth between your fingers and dipped it in, thoroughly scrubbing your body inch by inch-especially the area of your thighs.

Hardly a trace of him remained, yet for as long as that woman’s complacent smile challenged you, the feeling of sheer disgust persisted with her. It wasn’t the man that was repulsive. It was her. The you that spewed pretty lies and batted her eyes in a horrifyingly coy way that had all convinced, but you.

You tossed the bucket as far away as possible, watching her idol evaporate into steam, reminiscent of his pipe’s smoke. Come think of it, he’d been an awful lot in your mind lately. You usually had no real opinion regarding your clientele, but there was no denying you’d grown fond of your time together.

Some nights you drank without exchanging a single word, and other nights you sat playing the shamisen in turns, each putting a name to the other’s undisclosed desires. You never touched, not once. But something in his eye was different than before. At times it was distinct sympathy, and at others, it was subtle ardor that made you wonder what it’d be like for him to act upon it.

Would his touch feel as indifferent? Would your fondness continue to grow even when there were no clothes left between? Would your moment of fleeting freedom last?

Whatever this strange feeling was, it was separate from disgust. In his presence, all was tolerable, and in his absence, nothing right. In his presence there was realness, and in his absence, where you thought was void, a nearly unnoticeable thud insisted on reminding you that dreams, too, have hearts.

Because that was the night you found out that even dreams are capable of having dreams and hoping in despair.

Three…Two…One…

Vibrant flowers of color blossomed across the skies. Grandiose roses, charming asters, and alluring spider lilies whose petals dissolved in brilliant rain of vivacious sparks. Chaotic cheers spilled everywhere around you, each balcony host to a different love story as ephemeral pecks sealed the ending of one year and the beginning of another.

New Year’s Eve in Yoshiwara was quite the event. Every house that respected itself -yours included- knew to toss extravagant parties rich in champagne and desire, the women flowing perhaps more freely than the glasses served. Only a few elite bidders afforded the fee of being there, and those who didn’t, or rather, those who wanted their darling’s embrace to be privy, followed them into the upper floor rooms for twice -if not thrice- the regular asking price.

No, the services provided were hardly any different, but the value of that first kiss of the year ended up skyrocketing as if the lips involved were made of pure gold, and naturally, no one raised objections to that. Not the clients, not the women who awaited them at home, and certainly not the girls who got extra coin out of their infatuation.

It was laughable, really, and perhaps you would have indulged in a chuckle if it weren’t for the man who kept you company.

You’d never spent more than two New Year’s Eves with the same man, and this time was no exception. Except, that it was the first time you got to spend it with someone whose presence alone didn’t nauseate you.

Admittedly you knew next to nothing about Shinsuke. His name and that excruciatingly handsome face of his were the only two things you were certain of, yet they were enough for you to question what a man like him was doing there. Did he not have a person more significant to him to share this night with? Could he not see the hypocrisy behind it all? Or could it be that his great wit was an excuse behind a bigger scheme?

And suddenly you expressed all these thoughts in a manner that was most insolent, with your eyes glued to this one revolting couple on the opposing building’s balcony that made your guts churn in revulsion.

“Why are you here?”

Shinsuke, who’d been twirling an empty champagne glass between his fingers, shot you a blank stare. “Am I unwelcome?”

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to express myself this poorly.” You apologized sincerely. After all, your wish wasn’t to target him but to find yourself an ally. “It’s just that,” you continued, “unlike the rest of our clients, you don’t seem interested in making the most of our services. Not to mention, you are more than capable of earning a proper woman’s affection without money.”

Fearing matters were unsalvageable, you turned your back on him, though if you hadn’t, then you would have seen that the expression on his face was one devoid of any true resentment and that the sly smirk he sported was product of a childish whim he chose to follow.

“Is this not part of your services?” Shinsuke asked as he enclosed your body in an audacious embrace, his one palm stopping right where your obi began, and the other seeking refuge upon your hip.

“It… is.”

“And do I still seem disinterested?” He breathed at your nape, each word teasing to leave a kiss on its stead.

“Of course n-not.”

“Tell me, Y/N. What makes a woman proper?”

“A woman that can bring you happiness and,” you gulped once you felt his lips near your ear, “and afford to be seen by your side without being pointed at.”

Your answer made him pull away.

“I can’t tell whether you think too highly of me or too lowly of yourself,” he sighed. “In any case, I’m not someone who can afford to be seen, with or without the proper woman you describe.”

“What does that mean?” You lifted your head enough to get a peek at his face. His eye keenly watched something on the horizon, likely that aforementioned display of affection.

“It means, I’m not as proper of a man myself.”

A pause let his words sink deeper within the hefty atmosphere. Even when the words “familiar strangers” could perfectly define your relationship, not once did you consider the possibility of Shinsuke being a man viler than those you despised. And even if the thought had crossed your mind, then you must have gotten rid of it at once, because you refused to believe that the one authentic person in your life was a fraud.

“Do you still wish to know what I’m doing here?”

You nodded almost instantly.

“I’m looking to test the limits of a dream. Does a dream end where another dream begins or is one created anew? Can a man named Shinsuke be just a man who pursues the company of an improper courtesan, and no more than that?”

Although the nature of his questions was highly rhetorical, he maintained enough silence for you to answer him. And when you did, your words referred to a life more akin to the one you’d lived and the troubles you’d faced, and in doing so you realized that perhaps the key to decoding this man was one you already possessed.

“The floating world sustains all sorts of dreams, Shinsuke-san. What’s a dream of exquisite beauty to some, can be a horrid nightmare to others. But for a dream to be defined and then refined, it needs to first be dreamt of by somebody else, or else it’s no more than an abstract, fleeting fantasy.

“The man you are in here is the man you are out there, as the sum of your thoughts, and actions, and even your own dreams, and the dreams of others. ‘A man who pursues the company of an improper courtesan’,” you repeated his words, “is that really the kind of man you wish to be, Shinsuke-san?”

“Not entirely, I’m afraid.” He said. “Right now, I wish to be the kind of man who makes the most of your services.”

His disarming smile had succeeded in its cause, both lowering your resistances and painting your cheeks with an alarming shade of feverish red.

“If that’s what you want, then you can go ahead.”You whispered.

“What about what you want?” He hummed in your ears. “What is it that you want me to do?”

You could think of many reasons to justify your next response. The champagne, the scenery, the sudden intimacy generated between you. Even the way that brunette had her tongue stuck down that flabby man’s throat for the past twenty minutes. But in the end, all those designated reasons were nothing more than excuses, aiming to debunk or simply downgrade the volume of your heart’s desires.

“I’d like you to kiss me.” You stated, looking into his one good eye. “No, I… I want to kiss you.”

And suddenly your lips collided, making it impossible to tell who’d been the one to initiate, for you were tilting your heads and sharing your breaths in such natural sync, that it felt as if this was a kiss shared countless times already. The smoke on his tongue and the restricted impatience, the hands that touched not where they were supposed to touch, but where they wanted to touch, and lastly the vague sentiment of those final fireworks that were extinguished in the night sky.

If Yoshiwara was deemed the floating world, then the voices you were hearing must belong to the most exalted angels of the skies, for you were soaring higher than the heavens themselves. Everything seemed brighter than it did a day, a week, a month, a lifetime ago. The boss’ soured face when you paid him last night’s fee was suddenly as sweet as anko. The girls’ dubious comments when you greeted them were as lyrical as poetry. Even bargaining with the local dressmaker over your patched kimono’s price was as pleasant as an exchange of pleasantries between old friends.

You were the happiest you’d ever been, and if Shinsuke was on your mind once before, he was now tenfold. Whenever you put your kimono together, the image of his reflection creeping up behind yours flashed within the mirror, prodding your body first with his eye and then with his lips, his hands working to untie and dishevel all you struggled to maintain. And whenever a man that wasn’t him showed up as a replacement, you endured it by picturing his touch and exaggerating the similarities, -such as the curves of their arms or the shared green in their eyes-, until you were convinced it’d always been him.

The further you delved into that kiss, the deeper you spiraled into the unknown territories of longing, your body experiencing something foreign to your heart. Even when you’d crossed lips with more men than you could count, none compared to a kiss of your own volition. It was your choice to kiss him, and given the chance, you’d kiss him again and again, until all others scattered like petals in the wind.

This is madness, you insisted on whispering through bashful smiles, your heart racing at a pace quicker than your legs. The sun had melted into a mellow pink before you, its final rays infiltrating the lonesome maple trees that flourished on each pavement while your shadow withdrew behind your shoulder. Soon it’d be nightfall.

Your bag bounced with each hurried step you took towards the house, the ever-increasing traffic forcing you to slow down. The streets were far busier than you’d left them, especially the ones that led to your destination. Colorful silken kimonos and achromatic cotton yukatas meddled together, the sandals of their wearers clicking in an unrhythmic song of wood and cork. Whispers filled in the instrumental as heads turned left and right, shooting curious glances at the nearby establishments.

Could an oiran procession take place this early, you asked yourself, but then again there seemed to be neither kamuro nor entourage of actual performers among the crowd. You closed in on them and tuned in for answers, quickly learning that an ounce’s worth of happiness in Yoshiwara was as ephemeral as a butterfly’s passing.

“Have you heard? Shinsengumi’s set off on a grand-scale manhunt!” A blonde in a company of three stated. Her back —in addition to the backs of her companions— was turned on you, withholding all details of her face, though judging by the lack of opulent accessories in her hairdo, she must have either been a tea house girl or a lower-ranked courtesan.

“…Rumor has it they are after a terrorist! One of those Kihentai guys!” A brown-haired woman picked up.

“Kiheitai, you moron!” The blonde retorted. “Those Takasugi goons Tsukuyo-sama warned us about.”

“Takasugi? As in the Takasugi Shinsuke?” The one in the middle asked with a shaky tone.

Takasugi… Shinsuke? your ears perked up at the name.

“Shh! Do you want them to call you in for questioning?” One of them hushed her. “Of course that Takasugi! He’s been seen loitering near these places lately.”

“Aww, you think terrorists get lonely too? I wonder what kind of woman a man like him fancies.”

“Careful, Hoshino!”

“Hm? Why should I?” The brunette, Hoshino, sneered. “Terrorist or not, I doubt a man resistant to my charms exists. Besides, if he’s pretty enough, I wouldn’t mind giving a special discount for him to,” her voice cut out, “my assets.”

Their crude commentary grew both cruder and fainter as the trio distanced themselves, solely their snide cackles persisting behind them. This… Takasugi they mentioned and the Shinsuke you knew. They couldn’t be the same, right? They weren’t, right?

Clenching the bag tight against your chest, you dragged your feet toward the entrance only for them to freeze right outside the threshold. A preview of that night began playing in your mind like a scene from a movie, the words that challenged the propriety of his character suddenly gaining a whole new meaning. He was a terrorist. A man who’d waged a war against the world. A man whose head alone weighed ten times the feeble sums he paid for your company. A terrorist.

No matter how many times you repeated the word, accepting it didn’t come any easier. Not because it was unreasonable so, but because you couldn’t accept that out of all the high and mighty men to have traversed your doorstep, the first man who hadn’t treated you as if you were a mere piece of meat for him to chew up and spit out was, as in matter of fact, a terrorist. What kind of sick cosmic joke was this? What kind of world dubbed a kind man a criminal?

“For the last time, our respectable business is no rebel lair, and under no circumstances will we give up our customers’ names! You can bring your Commissioner, the Shogun, or even Buddha himself, and the answer won’t change. Now leave, before you scare our clients away. Off to hell, you go!” The boss roared furiously as the door flew open, revealing two figures dressed in black from head to toe.

Shinsengumi, you gasped.

The first of the two —and consequently the one who’d opened the door— was a man of average stature with neck-length black hair and a rather forgettable face that did him no favor next to his partner’s taller physique and well-defined features. His sharp eyes held a wonderful shade of blue in them, capable of beguiling just about anyone willing to ignore the strictness behind them. Strictness akin to Shinsuke’s, you noted.

“Rowdy pimps.” The taller man cursed under his breath.

“Hijikata-san!” The shorter man nudged him, at last taking notice of your presence.

Coughing in his fist, the one you presumed to be Hijikata stepped out of the lobby and stood before you, his closed fingers revealing a tiny notebook and a slightly chewed pen. He reeked of tobacco and an odor you could have sworn belonged to a croquette sandwich, or more accurately, the condiment in it.

“Oi, miss,” he directed the pen at you, “you wouldn’t happen to have seen or heard any scum terrorists sauntering your quarters, would you?” He asked in a raspy voice.

“Pardon me.” You bowed. “Our house has no tolerance for criminals,” if the beginning of your sentence made him sulk in disappointment, then the incoming one was bound to deplete his patience, “other those your government produces.”

“You wench-”

“Hijikata-san, we should get going!” The unnamed man jumped in the middle, preventing him from lunging at you.

His azure-colored eyes burned with utter rage, digging holes in your skull even as he was quite literally dragged out of the way. His companion spelled a few meager apologies in his stead as they scrammed back into the crowd of people wondering what could have possibly gotten a high-ranking officer this agitated.

“Tax grabbing leaches.” You mumbled and entered the house.

Whether the Shinsengumi did the country any good or not, they remained one of the core bodies to secure and defend a government with less pride than that of a whore. They’d forsaken their honor and assumed fancy collars in exchange for getting to wave their swords at those who defied them. How’s that for public order?

Repulsive as their apathy was, you did your best to avoid them. However, there were times when you couldn’t help but wonder, what would have happened if they pointed their blades at the Bakufu and the Amanto instead. Perhaps then it wouldn’t have been all for nothing. The years spent in this hellhole. Your self-sacrifice. Her demise.

Cringing away from these painful thoughts, you made your way across the room, paying respect to the boss and the missus with a courteous bow of your head. Neither seemed overly eager to return the gesture. The woman was bent over her husband, continuously rubbing his shoulders in an attempt to soothe his frayed nerves, while he insisted to huff like a coal train. His ears had flared up in a comical shade of red that perfectly matched his flushed cheeks. Were you to stay a minute longer, and who knows, actual smoke could start coming out.

No one was fond of cops roaming Yoshiwara, let alone house owners whose business was disrupted by those pests.

You proceeded to the stairs, dreaming of the moment you’d be free to soak your feet in a basin full of warm water and rid yourself of today’s bitter aftertaste. To think minutes ago you were bouncing up and down in obliviousness— felt like a distant past.

“Took you long enough.” A somewhat familiar voice rang between the shadows of your unlit room, taking shape only after your fingers located the switch. “Thought I’d be a corpse before you made it back.”

“Sh-Shinsuke!” You dropped the honorifics along with your bag, nearly tripping over your own legs as you dashed to his side.

He’d dragged the table closer to the wall, balancing half his weight against the paper screen and half against his elbow. Blood stained his yukata all the way to its seams, the once glorious fabric torn into a rag of little value around his torso. There was no way of telling skin and fabric apart. All was red, and all was bleeding, your heart included.

And yet, he was smiling. A faint and effortless smile that could have been charming if it weren’t for the crimson drops streaming down the corners of his mouth.

“How,” you began saying, but you already knew. “Who,” but the answer was the same, and lastly, “Why,” but it was pointless to insist.

You shook your unfinished questions away and helped him find a grip around your neck, your hands then attempting to undo the knots of his obi. It was bad. Worse than you expected, and it was possible that your mediocre sewing skills wouldn’t cut it. He needed a doctor, a good one at that, but what kind of medical practitioner would put their life on the line for a terrorist’s life?

This was hopeless.

“Hold on,” your thumb pressed his fingers firmly against your shoulder, “I’ll take you to bed.”

Without raising objections, Shinsuke let himself be dragged to your futon. One by one, you peeled the garments off his body, leaving him in just his fundoshi and forcing him to lie on his back. A total of three gashes spanned from his abdomen to his outer thigh. Two were the result of a blade, while the last one could be traced back to a naginata or something of the sort.

“It’s not that bad.” You feigned a smile.

“It’s written all over your face how bad it is.” He tilted his head.

“I can fix it!” you said in an attempt to convince both him and yourself, though he didn’t seem to need guarantees. If anything, he was the only one composed, as if the matter didn’t concern him.

Briefly, you parted to scavenge through the room for your trusty sewing kit, finding it under a pile of fabric samples at the bottom of your closet and presenting it to him along with a near-empty bottle of sake. This was as far as proper medical equipment went.

You put the bottle beside him and fished out the sharpest needle you could find, one that was still blunt, though hopefully not overly blunt so as not to puncture his skin. The mere thought sent your lunch up your throat. You did not fare well with blood. Nevertheless, you picked the needle up and folded the edge of a white thread over its eye, slowly bringing the two together. You did that once, and then twice again, only to fail just as miserably. The needle refused to be threaded, and your fingers refused to quit squirming.

That is, until they did.

His hand scooped yours, the inside of his palm so soft that the way the needle’s end pricked your skin went unnoticed. You gazed up at him with eyes full of worry—worry that he mistook for fear—as his eye narrowed into a slit of green that averted in the opposite direction.

“You know.” He bitterly deduced.

“It doesn’t matter if I do. This changes nothing, I—”

“Then it’s not too late to give me up.” He continued as if he hadn’t heard you. “Won’t do your head any good if they find me in here.”

Your mouth popped open, your tongue struggling to put a sentence together. The courtesan in you thought it’d be best to stay clear of trouble, but the woman in you could only return his grip and pray he wouldn’t let go.

“A Yoshiwara woman doesn’t have much need for unnecessary thoughts.” Your voice made his head turn. “They’d be doing me a great service chopping it off.”

For what felt like an eternity, the two of you remained in agonizing silence that a wan chuckle came to interrupt. “A headless courtesan must be quite the sight,” he noted, “but for as long as your head is in its place, you have no right to be this stupid.”

“And you have no right to be this reckless,” you sighed, neglecting to add a filter to your words. “What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.” He admitted. “I just didn’t intend for my men’s crude faces to be the last thing I see, and then next thing I knew, I was climbing up your window. Perhaps my aversion was that strong, or maybe the will to visit my improper courtesan one final time drowned all sense left in me. Who knows?”

“And you call me stupid.” An inconspicuous blush weakened the volume of your voice. “Nothing says you won’t die! The only experience I have with stitches comes from sewing dresses.”

He shrugged. “Alternatively, you can do nothing and let fate decide. Beats me.”

You set his hand down gently and continued your previous efforts as you pinched the needle between your fingers and successfully threaded it in one go. It didn’t matter what he said. You were going to save him, no matter what.

“Forgive me, but I have no intention of welcoming a horde of angry Joui rebels to my doorstep. If their faces are as horrid as you describe, then I’d much rather devote my attention to looking at your face instead.” You dipped the needle’s tip inside the sake to sanitize it. “Now hold still, this should sting.”

Shinsuke sat back against the futon, a complacent smile flickering underneath a pained expression he failed to hide. Any other ordinary man would be howling in agony, but not him. He didn’t budge in the slightest. He held still and refused to look away even as sake drenched his wounds and his skin was pierced by the cold needle’s edge.

“This calls for a larger tip.”

A/N: intercepting my own post to say that I hope to finish the rest sometime in February so I can resume my Bakufu fic and then actually commit myself to my requests. If anyone's wondering, yes, I still accept those, and ofc I read your messages and thank you all for your support!

[mandana-the-service-pup]

We made it :)

I was definitely asking a lot from Mandana with this spontaneous trip but she rose to the challenge and handled it with grace. She had her first bus ride. Her first plane ride. Her first long distance road trip and her first night away from home. I’m not sure she could have done it a year ago but she was ready and she was brilliant.

The bus ride was honestly the hardest part, but that wasn’t her fault. The driver was a bit zealous and it was the worst bus ride I’ve ever had. The handicap area was practically nonexistent so she had to sit in the middle of the isle. I had my arms wrapped around her while Hubbins held on to me to keep us all from falling every 5 seconds. She whined a little bit but not much and as soon as we stepped off the bus she was back to her happy self. As you can see in the video we took outside the airport. I’m not asking for a strict heel. I’m just letting her get comfortable before going in because I know we would be there for a while.

We were at the airport for about two hours. She was very attentive and made some great alerts including this 144 bpm while I was sitting down. I was able to recline for a bit to get my heart rate down before boarding and I’m really grateful for that.

We drew the SD short straw unfortunately. There was an older woman and her husband who had a little black dog. I never heard them claim she was a service dog. On the contrary, they were very open about her “attitude” and “growling” with us and the other passengers but instead of having the pet in a crate they went the service dog route which gave them priority. The woman was more aggressive than the dog tbh and was very loud about her needs to board first bc they’re disabled and her dog “has an attitude”. For some reason she acted surprised to find out I was also disabled and that Mandana is a legitimate service dog (she wasn’t blind so idk how she missed the SD gear) I probably could have asked to have them kicked off the flight before we boarded but I was having a medical episode and was more concerned about keeping the peace for Hubbins and Mandana. The airport personnel were very aware of the situation and did an amazing job observing both dogs behavior. They hovered over both of us for an hour and even introduced us to the flight crew as “the real service dog and the other thing” but the woman was very good about blocking her dog from us so no behaviors that would have prevented her flying were observed.

We were under the impression that there were two bulkhead areas. One in the front and one towards the back so we agreed to take the back one but the airport personnel were misinformed. The bulkheads were right next to each other. There wasn’t another area in the back but I wasn’t about to spend two hours next to this agitated woman. It was a tight squeeze but we’ve spent years preparing for this exact situation so I knew Mandana could handle it. The flight attendant understood our predicament and was very accommodating. We all agreed that Hubbins and I would get a row to ourselves. If there were too many people for that then we would move up to the front and the woman could deal with it or be kicked off. Mandana was a bit sketched out about the take off (I think she would have been fine if she had more space) but she was able to get through it with little to no whining and then settled down and slept for the two hour flight. She watched out the window for our landing without issue and then it was over. The pictures look spacious but when standing she is the length of two seats and takes up the entire area.

I knew the flight was asking a lot but we decided to do it anyways because we are actually picking up a second car and driving it back home. Our car is going to have to go into the shop for a bit and Mandana outgrew her Ruffland Kennel so we flew in to visit family, snag an XL Ruffland and take back a gifted car. Our circumstances have changed drastically over the last couple months and we became housebound despite my improving health. Now we’re able to go out on adventures again. It is such a privilege. My heart breaks for my fellow spoonies who are struggling with resources without this kind of aid and I couldn’t be more grateful to everyone involved.

Family picked us up and we had another two hours to get to our hometown. Mandana was very grateful for the mattress and pillows and promptly fell asleep. We decided to stay in an Airbnb instead of with family. It’s Mandanas first overnight trip and I wanted to make sure we were all well rested for the 9 hour drive home. We will visit with family for a day and then drive half way back on Friday, stop for a night and arrive home on Saturday so Hubbins has time to recover before going back to work on Monday.

I’m so proud of Mandana. We’ve had a lot holding us back over the past year. We never achieved the training sessions we wanted to that would have prepared us for this kind of travel. Even so she was able to take every thing in stride. Our success was half foundational skills and half trust in our relationship (and a sprinkle of the morbid curiosity that fuels her love for adventure despite uncertainty lol)