#idk what to do with the beaded chains they could be a necklace they could be long ass earrings

[fishpondfish]

also made earrings out of buttons and also made trans and lesbian flag patterns with the beads that i took from and old ass bracelet lolol it didn't have enough light pinks but whatever you can still tell. anyways yayyy. the funniest thing about all this is that i don't even like wearing jewelry

simple joys of life i used to make chans out of safety pins by just connecting the pins and nothing else (left) and it was cool but it used to get tangled all the time soooo i finally bought these uhh connector rings or whatever the term is and i upgraded it (right) YAY this is the most exciting thing about my week

[tainted-liquor]

'Perfect Wifey―୨୧⋆ ˚

₊˚⊹♡ ╰➝ 'Don't start with me.' - Miles G. Morales

°˖➴ E42!Miles Morales x BlackFem!Reader ✧˖ °Ingredients: Salt and Sugar! (hurt/comfort) ˗ˏˋTWs: Swearing, petty behavior idk ⟡W/C: 820! A/N: Another request I got! Enjoys luvs 💗

"C'mon! Sabes que no lo quise decir de esa manera! I just need you to chill out f'me, princesa!" your boyfriend huffed as he crossed his arms against his chest. You were currently arguing about his inconsistency when it came to dates, promising one thing and doing the other. Just earlier today you stood outside for 4 hours, all dolled up and pretty for your boyfriend who never showed up. "Chill out? What the fuck you mean relax?! I was outside, for FOUR HOURS! IN HEELS! WAITING ON YOU!" you shouted, picking up your cream-colored bear off your bedside and hurling it at Miles's chest. "I can't fucking believe you! You could've shot me a text, a call, fuck you could've sent a PIGEON!" You yelled as small beads of tears clouded your vision. You sighed deeply, wiping your eyes and closing your eyes to refrain from making any dumb decisions.

"I will see you tomorrow. I need you to leave right now, I can't look at you" you explain in a calm and controlled voice. "Mami, lo siento-" he began, quickly shutting up as you weakly raised your hand (a silent communication of shut the fuck up). He quietly looked down at the floor, placing your stuffed bear safely on your nightstand before quietly exiting your room through the door. You sighed, slipping into your bathroom to do stress-stimulated skincare, angrily swiping at your face with your soapy hands. Every fiber in your body seemed to burn with a mix of rage and sadness, feeling those crybaby tears begin to invade your vision once more.

You slipped into your favorite pair of pajamas, feeling a sudden movement on your neck and freaking out at the unfamiliar sensation. You instantly sigh, pressing a hand to your chest and giggling when you realize it was just your necklace. Well, the necklace Miles had bought for you a while back for your birthday. You unclipped the necklace, watching as the solid gold 'M' spun on the chain before gently placing it on your bathroom sink. You sighed to yourself, contemplating when everything went downhill as you got comfortable in your pink bedsheets and drifted off to sleep.

You woke up the following morning with your mind in a daze. Your bonnet was half off, your phone was nowhere in sight, and you could feel how puffy your eyes were from crying the previous night. You sighed before quickly getting yourself together, throwing on your uniform, and preparing to start another long and tiring week of school. There was only one key detail missing from your dull grey and blue uniform, which slipped your mind as you began to make your way to school at the fucking crack of dawn. That pretty pretty pendant that you always wore around your neck.

The first few minutes in the building were normal, you scrolling mindlessly through your phone as you leaned against your locker. That was all fine and dandy until you felt that familiar presence that always let you know comfort was right next to you. You sighed, lifting your head completely from your phone to see Miles. "Princesa, escúchame por favor. I need to tell you something important," he began as he held your chin gently in between his hands, making sure you maintained eye contact. He was about to explain something 'important', before he cut himself off, staring directly at the empty space on your collarbone.

"¿Dónde es? Chiquita, dime ahora mismo. ¿Dónde está tu collar?" He asked with a suddenly firm glare. He gently raised your phone, ensuring that the semi-clear pink case you always wore still contained the Polaroid of the two of you. He didn't notice immediately, but he sighed in relief when he saw that all-too-familiar photo of the two of you last year. "Sorry, I forgot it on my bathroom sink..." you sighed as you mindlessly felt for the solid piece of gold, immediately feeling terrible when you realized it wasn't there. "Don't start with me. I don't care how petty you feel, the world gon' know you mines," he spat with narrow eyes.

You could tell he was a little irritated, but he still pulled you into a tight hug and rested his chin on the top of your head. "Look mama, I'm sorry. I promise I'll never do that again, aight? I need to talk to you about something though, leave your window open f'me" he explained as he held you impossibly closer to his body. "Yeah, okay I- WINDOW?" you frantically queried with a bewildered expression. "Fuck you mean my window? Why my window?" Miles didn't give you an answer, only laughing at your question and giving you a pat on your back. "Don't worry about it. I'll be over later, alright?" he assured as he gave you a peck on the forehead, tugging your hand as you followed him to your morning advisory.

taglist in the works I swear😭

[edwinspaynes]

4, 10, 13

4. What kind of endings do you prefer?

Whatever the hell Chain of Thorns had going on was my exact kind of ending. The "happy middle," as Lucie described it. I want something overarchingly happy, maybe with an element of wistfulness and closure, but I also don't want it tied up in a neat little bow. Some level of openness to take the characters into an untouchable but presumably hopeful future is necessary. Idk but what Cassie did for the Chain of Thorns epilogue may be one of my favourite book endings ever. It was perfect, I want to snort it, I want to emulate the exact feeling it gave me.

10. Show a piece from your current WIP/most recent story, up to 30 words.

I SAID I WOULD NOT SHOW ANOTHER WORD UNTIL XMAS but fine. For the ask game.

“I am quite glad that we installed these balconies onto the Institute,” Tessa said, looking out at the frozen Christmas paradise surrounding them. The night was quiet, still but for the movement of the intricately-patterned fluffy flakes. “If we had not, we could not enjoy nights like this.”

13. Ctrl+f: silver/gold/bronze–did anything come up in your WIP and if so, share it?

Nothing showed up in Christmas on the Balcony or Twenty Minutes, but there were two from another (friendship fluff) Christmas WIP I have but am not 100% sure if I'll finish in time:

"Grace’s eyes swept across the market again. There were jewelry stalls; some of the pieces were quite lovely. And yet, she did not have any female friends who she could shower in gold necklaces and glass-bead bracelets, so there was no point in picking through the beautifully tempting wares."

-

“I, too, am engaged,” Grace said, “to a man with lavender eyes. Have you anything that might complement such a hue?” “Yes!” She clapped her hands together and drew Grace’s attention toward an odd pinch-edged teacup painted silver and aubergine.

[theswitchsteinenigma]

“Well how do I sign off on this?”

“Well this is switch’s ideas alone so switch.”

Wtf did I mean by that??? My inner dialogue gets a little too strong sometimes like I arguing and conversing with myself is an understatement. But I all I can say is this is switched page and switches ideas alone.

Switch being me. I’m switch. I just have a lot of nicknames but you all here will know me as SwitchStein, switch for short but not stein that’s a different story.

Anyways I’ve been sewing a reversible purse out of a pair of shorts. It’s so cool. I fucking hate sewing zippers so it has a lot of clasps buttons and Velcro. Ironically the pattern is drawings of gold chains but all the actual metal hardware on the purse itself is gun metal black,? It has belt loops and I think I’m gonna give it a real belt and put a ridiculous belt buckle on it. Just because I can 🤪 and of course I’m a hoarder so I have a handful of belt buckles and belts already now the issue is finding them.

I’d like to explain my art and how I do things as much as possible until the inevitable happens. Idk life is a crazy thing and an even weirder thing as an artist. A scarier thing as a starving artist lol. I’m moving at the end of the month so if you want anything from me now is the time to get it.

I’m moving at the end of August so any orders placed before the 20th should be out by the 30th anything placed after will be worked on but won’t be out until September I’m always on my phone and always able to update if you feel like I’m taking to long feel free to bug me I’ll drop what I’m doing if you bug me XD just don’t be mean I’m a person and an artist not Amazon. 😘🫶

The most comprehensive list of things you can commission from me for the time being.

Traditional art: pen pencil colored pencils marker on paper, can be laminated or turned into stickers.

Digital art: icons, profile pics, banner art, full page art, comic panels, refrence sheets, furries, people, weird things

Jewelry: rings, bracelets, necklaces, earrings, in a variety of materials like plastic pony beads, glass beads, big and small beads, chains and charms, wire rings and gem wrapping, home made pendants, keychains I like to make more complex layered maximalist jewelry but I can make simple stuff too

Custom clay beads in almost any shape customize sizes number of holes or hooks colors finished ect ect

Custom Gotcha pouch curation: give me an aesthetic I quote you a price you get a clear gatcha pouch keychain full of art and trinkets and other matching keychains I can do this for licensed characters and original characters

Custom clothes: tshirts: dying and bleaching patterns and art as well as full paintings, small embroidery, battle vests and jackets, patches, flannels with custom back panel patches or paintings, paintings on denim jeans or shorts, purses and bags made out of jeans pants or any sort of odd alterations. You can send me items and I can turn them into stuffed animals or purses or you can tell me what you want I’ll find it and quote you and go buy it and alter it.

Oulfit curation/ personal shopping: I can build oulfits, cup accessory bundles, nerdy collection bundles. Want a whole new goth wardrobe with matching keychains and vinyl skull panda figure collection but don’t feel like spending hours finding those things give me a few perfect details and I could build you carts across multiple platforms and place orders and ship them all to you in one night one transaction for you instead of 100’s and all the same fun online purchases.

Okay that’s all for now.

Switch

[siriustreasure]

being corpse husband’s daughter would include:

a/n: these headcanons were written with the idea of y/n’s mother not being involved. ++ find part 2 here <3

warnings: like one swear word, me rambling? 😎

he’d “cherish the fuck out of” you. probably the most loved kid ever let’s not lie.

so many hugs and lots of quality time whenever you want, no matter how old, you’d always be his little princess.

he probably wouldn’t make a big announcement about you, he’d just mention you very briefly in a stream, as if everyone already knew which would obviously result in his chat freaking out. he’d clear up some very basic/general questions like “what’s being a dad like?”, maybe even address “so you have a girlfriend?” one thing he definitely wouldn’t share is your real name. potentially even your age - he won’t even reveal when he got cinnamon so… yeah, i wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t share your age. he might let the chat come up with an alias for you though. that’d be so stinkin’ cute.

he’d let you sit on his lap while playing games by himself or with friends, as long as they weren’t streaming and the game wasn’t too scary for you.

he’d also let you play on stream/with his friends sometimes - he’d start and then all of a sudden your voice would be heard with his faint laughter in the background as everyone loses their shit. {here’s a fic based on this - not posted yet <3}

he’d definitely makes use of parental control settings on any technology you have whilst you’re younger. wouldn’t want you finding any of his songs lmao.

wouldn’t post many pictures of you, even if they were faceless. he might post like one of you wearing a new merch design from behind/with you covering your face or with you face cropped out and because he hasn’t said anything about you, or has said very little, twitter freaks out whilst they try to figure out if he’s got a daughter, a niece, if your one of his friend’s or if you’re just some random kid model.

he’d try his best to do/take care of your hair and would do a pretty good job but, especially if it’s curly like his, would struggle to at least some extent - particularly when it comes to styling due to the liberal and overly dramatic use of “ow”.

i could totally see corpse opting to at least try having you homeschooled. not self indulgent ssh. like {keep in mind i have a lot to catch up on in terms of corpse ‘lore’, if you will} with his anxiety and consequent difficulty/hesitancy to leave his apartment sometimes, he might view homeschooling as fairer for you because then you wouldn’t miss school if he wasn’t able to take you.

he wouldn’t dismiss any of your thoughts or feelings no matter your age, or topic - medical, safety in a place, trust of a person, whatever. he’d always listen and take necessary/appropriate action.

you’d literally be inseparable. best buds. idc.

he’d make you a mini him like once, as a joke, for halloween or something and nobody can tell me otherwise.

idk i feel like corpse isn’t that great of a cook… so y’all would probably have pretty ‘basic’, ‘just chuck it in the oven’ food or takeaways. and cereals for breakfast. hey at least the foil can’t best you. actuallyyyy wait, you’d make kinda shitty homemade food together like pizza that’s basically ketchup on bread w/ toppings. and always somehow make a very big mess in the kitchen. y’all would basically learn to cook together. eventually.

idk if all of corpse’s tattoos have colour but if they don’t, he’d 100% let you colour them in for him.

nail polish king 🥲 he will paint your nails, if you want, and he will do a good job. thank you very much. will even help you with eyeliner too when you’re older.

also y’know those bead bracelets he wears sometimes? you better make him some so he can show them off to everyone. and necklaces, picture that with his chain imma cry. and rings. sobbing.

[the-haunted-office]

There had been rumours. The group had heard bits and pieces from here and there but there was never any solid, concrete information. Maybe they were overreacting? In any case, Miyuna had tears in her eyes as she continued to open and close the broom closet door n Etsumi's cabaret. She had heard from Etsumi that their beloved friend, Thursday, popped out of this closet, almost out of thin air.

She continued to open and close the door, hoping every time that Thursday would be there on the other side.

Hours went by, then days. She never seemed to be having any luck whatsoever

Suddenly- it, by some random act of some form of mysterious being, worked. There it was, an office.

Tsuki, who has been on and off dozing, heard the cheers of Miyunas success. Looking towards the newly opened door.

"Darlin'- don't." Tsuki spoke as he grabbed the door from her. He coudlnt believe it, there seriously was another world out there- well, there was an office out there. While Miyuna held the door open, Tsuki grabbed the large box and brought it to her. "I'll hold it open for ya, place it down and then hurry on back in here."

She began to drag the box into the mysteriously appearing office. Miyuna was fascinated by the world around her- the ugly yellow walls, the terribly dirty looking carpets, the fact there was no view outside the windows- only a white void. She wished she could have explored it more.

She finally managed to set the box down in the middle of the floor, letting out a fee pants as she tried to catch her own breath.

Inside the box, were things the group had collected through their own adventures.

Etsumi had presented Thursday with a set ornate bowls, perfect for eating more gyudon. His note read:

Thursday, in case you and your friend of yours want some gyudon. Here's a really lovely set I found in a store out in Tokyo.

Tsuki had presented her with a katana. It's hilt was blue and the blade was engraved with such delicate flowers. This was an ornamental piece. His note reads:

YO, dunno what to give ya, but maybe you'd find a katana useful? Idk, it's more for looks than for fighting, but who knows?

Eisuke placed an old console into the box, a few controllers and a couple of games. His note read:

To Thursday. It feels like I've known you for ages, yet. I don't remember you. Can't wait to beat you at Tetris again some day!

Miyunas gift, was a collection of handmade bracelets, necklaces and even earrings. They were made up of cute, vibrant beads. Some of the beads were made up of stars, hearts, ovals and even triangular. The chain was silver, giving the jewellery some form of sturdiness. Her note reads:

Helo fursdai, thank you for beeing my frend. i rely like to hang out with u! Mr cyrus (a blu raccoooon daddy gave me) has tee parties with fursdai (a bun-chan)!!!!!!!!!!!!

On the back of the paper, is a cutely drawn picture of her and Thursday.

Once Miyuna has set the box down in the office, she hurries back to her dad. Excitedly giggling as she looks back into the office from the safety of Etsumi's cabaret.

The door closes.

With love, @kamurocho-dreams

At the time the box was dropped off, both Narrators were sleeping. They're doing a lot of that lately, where they never did before. An unfortunate side effect of slowly killing the parasite that lives in their bodies is that it is slowly killing them too.

It isn't until a good while later that the worst of their symptoms begin to wear off and both Narrators go about their routine of checking in with each other about how they're feeling, getting tea, and planning their next dose of diet soda, then going over to the display screen to see if anybody has wandered into their office while they were asleep.

Someone has.

Well, presumably. How else would that big box have gotten there? Unless their office is playing tricks on them again, which seems unlikely given how ill their office is too lately with how it's having a lot of difficulty healing and resetting itself.

Another side effect of slowly killing the parasite that lives within it.

Thursday finishes her tea, grabs her towel and notebook, and makes her way downstairs, careful to not move too quickly as she is still feeling lightheaded and tired.

She wastes no time in getting into the box. Being the curious creature that she is, she has never been able to resist such things no matter how dubious their sudden, random appearance might be.

There's... stuff in it. A bunch of stuff. Gifts. For her. From her Yakuza friends.

She closes the box, feeling momentarily emotional. There's no way they could have known that she was the one who sent that box to them. No way. And yet, here's a box, waiting for her, presented in the same fashion she presented her box to them.

They know...

It takes her a minute or two to get herself back under control, and then she opens the box again and goes exploring.

Right away she loves everything that's in it because it all came from her friends. It's an added benefit that all of the items are really cool.

The ornate bowls and the idea of getting to eat more gyudon out of them. She's going to have learn how to make that so she can serve it to her friends out of these bowls. Imagine how fun that would be!

And the katana - which Thursday doesn't know the proper name for so in her mind she just thinks it's a really pretty, cool-looking sword - is, of course, a really pretty, cool-looking sword. Ohhh whose ass is she gonna beat with this? Rex? No. The sword is too pretty and cool to use on scum like him. How about one of her friends? Bradley? Yeah, Bradley. He'd love that. He'd love to be beaten with a really pretty, cool-looking sword.

She puts the really pretty, cool-looking sword aside and next pulls out the old school console, controllers, and games and instantly feels her heart soar with delight. An old NES! She's always wanted one of those! True, she could have spawned one in at any time, but that's not the same! Oh, she's gonna have to call over Maso right away and beat his ass at Tetris. But what's Eisuke talking about - she's gonna beat HIS ass at Tetris again some day, and be at the top of every leaderboard in that joint.

She's laughing now, by the time she gets to all the little delicately made bracelets, necklaces, and earrings. Thursday has never in her life (as far as she can remember) worn a single piece of jewelry. She doesn't like the feel of it on her body, and has never cared for being flashy or wearing anything that draws attention to herself - with the exception of wearing dresses like Ms. Frizzle or suits like Saul Goodman, of course, those are exceptions because they’re so cool. But these cute little pieces? These right here, that her little bunchan-loving friend made for her? She will wear them every day for the rest of her life.

After putting everything on, she next reads the note that accompanied them and launches into another fit of giggles. Fursdai. She's going to demand that if anybody holds a funeral for her, they put that on her headstone. If she gets a headstone. Why would there be a headstone, actually? Not like there's going to be a body left behind to bury much less a place to bury it. Are funerals even held in the offices? Who the hell knows.

Either way, she laughs even more when it's revealed that the little girl named the blue raccoon Cyrus and the pink bunchan Fursdai. When she had given that particular pair to Miyuna, Thursday had meant for the bunchan to represent Miyuna and for the raccoon to represent Thursday herself. This, though... this is hilarious, and far better, and so Miyuna's headcanon has been accepted.

And then she turns the note from Miyuna over and sees the little drawing of herself and the child...

...and she starts crying.

Uncontrollably.

It's unrestrained and it's ugly and it's painful and it's everything of what she feels, not only from the last few weeks, but from her whole life. Because she has friends, real friends, people who love her, who have given her so much, and none of it... none of it she can take with her after the end.

She closes the box but keeps the note/drawing with her, and sits down on the floor next to the box, and just weeps.

She's going to miss everybody so much, she already misses them.

[vixenpen]

Seeing kirishima and Shoto in the grey sweatpants and gold chain the reader gifted them 👀 ps. Idk it’s something about that combo that makes me 🤤

Girl that sounds so sexy😩🤤

You awoke to the savory smell of sizzling bacon 🥓

That was all the convincing you needed to get up and wander into the kitchen

When you finally entered and saw your man, you were WIDE awake

There stood your Kiriboo in all his shirtless glory.

Hard back muscles flexing out in the open

Tight ass wearin the hell out of the grey sweatpants you’d bought him for his birthday.

Lawd Jesus🙌🏾🙌🏾😻

So you just lookin like:

“Morning daddy.”

When he turns around your heart bout damn stops

This man got nerve enough to be wearing the thin, gold chain you had bought him for Christmas last year too

Bulge just bobbing all casual and shit

Sculpted chest all out

Red hair in a man bun

😩🥴😩🥴

Why is this man dressed like he just stepped out of a 00s music video???

Who tf knows?

All you know is, he look fine ass hell

“Morning, sunshine!” I started breakfast for us.

“How do you want your eggs?”

“The same way I want your dick, hard af. Now lemme choke on it.”

You’re down on your knees begging him please

Kirishima’s eyes pop and he shoots you a pleasantly surprised grin

“Well damn babe, good morning to you too!”

“Baby, you still working out?” You called out when you entered the apartment you and Shouto shared

You got know answer, but as you wandered deeper into the house, you heard the breath scream of the blow dryer

“Baby?” You knocked

The dryer clicked off. After some shuffling, Shoto answered the door

His bland expression lit up into a smile

“Hey, beautiful. Welcome home. I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.”

What did he say?

You were too busy watching that womb buster of his jiggling in his low slung grey sweat pants to hear it

Droplets of water are sliding off his red and white hair and beading on his hard pecs.

Oh fuck! You didn’t even notice the jade Buddha necklace you had bought him on a thing gold chain

It swung between his pecs and all you could think about was how you wished you had been in that damn shower with him

“Babe? Babyyy?”

“Huh?! Uh-oh, um. Y-yeah, hey...baby. I’m home.”

He chuckled. “I can see that, y/n. You spaced out for a minute. what’s on your mind?”

You wrap your arms around his neck and suck a hickie right on his collar bone, taking his breath away

“Let me show you.”

[plush-rabbit]

The King with Golden Eyes

Warnings: Noncon, Dubcon, Implications of drugging/hypnosis  Word Count: 5.4K A/N: I took liberties with his appearance and what ~powers~ he has, its kinda heavy?? idk

There’s a heavy weight against your neck. Tight and thick, a necklace of chains pushing you into the mattress, making your color deepen, darkening and veins pulsing and your body reacts before your mind, or your mind reacts before your body- you’re not entirely sure- and your heels dig into the mattress, harsh, ugly wheezing that sounds past your clenched teeth, your hands shaking and fingers flexing in the air, a crazed dance as they grab hold of whatever is on your neck, and tighten their hold, nails digging into something soft and silky. It finally registers to you that you can open your eyes, that the consuming darkness is because you have kept your eyes closed due to the horror that is of restricted air. But opening your eyes only adds to the horror.

The room is dark, shadows casted from the moonlight stretch into different shades and lengths against your room but what catches your eyes are the ones above you. Glittering in gold, unblinking and wide, peering into you with curiosity. Wide and innocent as whatever it is lays above you, weight against their hands as they choke you.

You cry and you beg for your life to be spared, vision spotting with a black that cannot be explained as it spreads like a dying film, burning against your vision and you cling desperately to the silk against your neck, arching your back and unable to push the person above you. You open your mouth to scream and a hand slaps your mouth. It makes your teeth rattle and ache and you can taste a faint hint of blood on your tongue.

Your room spins and memories blur, burning like film, spots clouding over faces as you take your final breaths. Your room, once smelling of citrus and peonies, is replaced by something richer, something that lays heavy above it, sophisticated and minty, sweet on your nose and stinging to your eyes.

“Please,” you whisper against the palm, trying to swallow the spit that has pooled in your mouth, trying to keep it from bubbling past the corners of your lips. You hold on tighter to the hand, your movements grow weaker, heels and kicks losing their kick as you succumb to the lack of breath. Your vision grows bleary, the deep weight against your chest growing heavy, thoughts subsiding as fog moves in, piercing, glowing eyes that look into you and as your hands slip from the silk, sliding past the wrist and onto the soft curve of your chest. Your breaths grow weaker, a mere breeze compared to the deep, ragged ones before, vision flickering in and out and your final thought is nothing tangible, incorporeal and enough to make your head hurt.

As if waiting for you to give up, the hands leave your neck. They slide down and cup your hands, the soft fabric gentle against your hands as they hold them tenderly, flipping them over and tracing the lines over your palms with such ease.

Breath is slow to return to you. Your body and mind in too much pain, too much awareness and lack of cognitive thinking that you lay still on the bed, your hands heavy and they slip an inch, only to be held tighter, in a grip that makes you whine under your breath, heading moving in a slow shake and your lips mouth soundless words of denial.

Your eyes are closed and beside you, something dips, the space under your sides deepening and there’s a flash of light that glows behind your closed eyelids. Something dark flashes across your closed vision, making a gruelly shadow appear over your body. The color in your face lessens, returning to your normal shade as you lay under your attacker.

You try to collect your thoughts. There is nothing that comes to mind and everything comes to mind and it’s all too much, filling you with such a terrible headache that you truly did wish you had died. Limbs heavy and carressed by whoever is above you, fingers that dance below your wrist in a walts and stop short of the crook of your elbow, watching as your skin pulses and twitches under and the eyes burn holes into your skin.

“Do you know who I am?” The voice says in a whisper. You can hear him sigh in displeasure. The hand on your arm moves and rests against your neck, fingers poised as they press down and search for your pulse, feeling it light underneath their fingertips. “You’re still alive. I see no reason why you have the audacity to not answer a simple question.”

“No,” you choke out below a whisper. “I don’t.”

The hand leaves your neck, a soft caress as it moves across your skin and lifts into the air. You aren’t ready to open your eyes and deal with whatever it is that you have to deal with. You aren’t ready to see your attacker linger above you in all their intensity and ferocity. You don’t think you can handle whatever is above you.

“I have many names,” the person says in a slow, tantalizing voice. “Names that vary from region to region-” you slowly begin to open your eyes, brows furrowing when light meets your vision- “names that people worship or curse under their breath-” it gets easier to breathe with each passing breath- “names that most confuse for what it is they are trying to seek-” you take a sharp gasp and close your eyes, blinking them slowly as the person above you ficuses in- “for now, you may call me Overhaul.”

You look above you and once again, you are unable to breathe. Above you sits a creature, beak fused where his nose and mouth should be, the beak plated in magenta and gold, gold that glistens from the lamp and is polished and smooth, not a single scratch against it. Golden eyes peer down at you, glistening and following your every movement, tracing down your face and tilting his head as he reaches your lips, gloves on hands, white and pure, pristine and clean against the creature. He wears a dark green cloak that wraps and covers his body, sheer and thick material that spins around and wraps around his body and a mix of fur and feathers that form against the collar and tuft out in all directions, brushing against his pale skin that is unblemished. Slowly, a glove is removed, pinched between the beak and letting the fabric fall onto your chest. His hand is large, fingers slender and fluttering against the air. Scale-like gold sticks to his skin, flickering out as it nears his cheeks and grouping together the closer it gets to his ears, getting lost underneath his auburn hair.

A pale hand reaches towards you, slender fingers that reach out with nails that are stretched and sharpened, claws that tap against your flesh, black, inky paint that decorate them is bold against you. The hand is cold to the touch, making you flinch against him, nails piercing your skin and his head tilts, golden eyes wide as they watch scarlet beads against his claws, and he pushes himself forward, the tip of his beak is a soft brush against your lips.

“Such a pretty mortal,” he murmurs, his hand leaving your face, watching his index intently as your blood stills on his finger, bright against the inky darkness. “So fragile and delicate-” his eyes flickering back to yours- “so naive and doltish.” His tone is soft, words whispered in a single breath, condescending and making you flinch as he reaches for you again. He sighs and rises from his position above you, the bed silent as he slithers off, raising his arms over his head, the mix of fur and feathers on his coat brushing against his ears, eyes coming to a close. You watch with fear, hands gripped tightly on your blanket, your neck still too tight and much too warm, the weight of his hand still lingers. “Do you know what loneliness feels like?” He asks, cracking his neck- loud and unforgiving and it makes a sinking feeling in your stomach deepen when you realize what kind of force it must take to crack something of his compared to your own. You fail to answer and he sighs, it’s exhausted and bored, tired like he’s just tired of it all. “Come on, I asked you a question-” he waves a gloved hand around, and you wonder how the fabric doesn’t rip under his claws- “don’t make me repeat myself. I’m not a fan of that.” he has a disgusted look on his face, head tilted to the side, eyes narrowed dangerously and you nod your head. He gives you a raise of his brows, his bare hand flexing against his side, your blood splashing against your floor.

“I-” your voice comes off in a single breath, and you clear your throat, tears springing to your eyes- “I do- I know what loneliness feels like.” It’s such a silly question, so miniscule and something that is only asked and answered when you’re too sleep deprived to realize what you’re really asking, too sleep deprived to know that you’re being vulnerable in a way that really matters.

“No, you don’t,” he corrects, clicking his tongue with a disappointed look in his eyes.

You mimic him, shaking your head, your eyes distant. “No, I don’t,” you whisper.

“How could you-” he says the word like its poison on his tongue- “know what true loneliness is like? You’ve only been alive for a blink of an eyes while I’ve been here since-” his voice trails and there’s an odd spark on them- “since a long time.” He glances back at you and laughs softly, his hand curling over the top of your head and threading his fingers through you. “What is loneliness like to you?”

“I- It’s when you’re cold or uh,” you pause and you can’t seem to find the words to describe what loneliness really is. Have you truly felt it? Have you ever felt the loneliness that he so desperately wants to describe?

He laughs and it’s like the laugh an adult gives to a child, a laugh so pitiful and forced to make someone feel better and he gives it to you. He twists a piece of your hair around his finger, watching strands peek and unfurl with just a simple pull. “Of course you wouldn’t know,” he coos. His voice raises, booming and echoing against your walls and making a picture frame rattle. “You could never understand the loneliness that I felt. The emptiness that swirled in me, made my blood ice cold, fury, a white burning fire that scorched everything in its path-” he sweeps his arms out in front of him- “the solitude and boredom that I felt waking up everyday. The emptiness that made me broken,” his voice falls to a whisper, brows furrowed into a pinch, “an emptiness that won’t ever be fixed no matter how much time passes. One that physically hurts and makes me sick,” he spits out, voice low and menacing. His hands cover his beak, running down the golden grooves, glove against him and sweeping off, his bare hand following in motion and falling against his side. “You’ll never understand what true loneliness is.”

You don’t know if you should apologize to him for assuming that you could know what it is he felt. But there’s also the chance that he would hate your pity, that he would hate to be pitied by a mortal. You’re tired and scared, mind foggy the more that you look at him, the gold on his body shimmering against the dim glow of your lamp and making you squint as you gaze among him. You want to fall asleep, but you’re too terrified to do so, unable to move, unable to respond to his rant about what it means to be lonely.

“But I don’t have to be lonely anymore,” he comments and his hands are wrapped around your forearms. “Do you want to know why?”

You nod your head. “Yes, please.” You don’t want to. You’re too afraid of the answer. There’s only one reason why he would show up to you, why he would make his presence known. His hands tighten around you, pulling taut against your skin and imprinting himself there and his skin burns. It’s cold and freezing, making you wince, fear in the back of your mind that his hand will get stuck against your warmth and it’ll have to be pulled off with little care towards your own safety.

“Because I have you.” He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, something so simple and easy to understand. The fog that settles in your mind turns thick, unable to be rid of and making your eyelids droop, your vision blurring and when you yawn, tears forming and clinging to your lashes when you close your eyes, only to open them and find that his beak gone, replaced by what a human looks like. And slowly the fog dissipates. “I forgot how delicate mortals are to Gods. My apologies, dear.” He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and when his hand comes into view, the claw is filed, a regular nail in its place, black and normal looking and you’re completely terrified.

“I don’t know what to think,” you whisper. You really don’t. There’s too much information to process with a mind that is barely starting to lose its fogginess.

He smiles at you, pleased with your truthfulness. “Of course you don’t.” He sits at the edge of your bed, holding your hand in his. “You see,” he starts off slow, grabbing your finger in his hand, “I am known as Overhaul- ruler of the Underworld- and for far too long I have been alone. Emptiness and loneliness filling me like a disease and infecting every inch of my body with a pain that won’t go away no matter what I do. But-” he curls your finger and rubs over the nail- “one day, I found you.” His smile is twisted, lips stretching upwards, teeth exposed in a cruel joke of a grin, almost wistful and fully bone chilling. “You were gathering flowers for a friend I funeral I believe. You were out in a field, your dress bellowing in the wind, basket in hand and despite the tragic event, you still had this smile- small, like you were remembering the good times that you had with your old neighbor and well- the way you decided to just spend the rest of your days holed up in your room, too distraught over the fragile life of a human- really now, there’s no reason to cry,” he murmurs, wiping away a tear, catching it on his thumb. “They were old- they were going to die eventually. There is no reason to cry over such a fleeting life-” he waves his hand in the air- “now as I was saying, you were just so alone.” he pauses and tilts his head. “Huh,” he breathes, “perhaps you do know what it’s like to be lonely. No one visited you did they? They all tried to comfort you but they didn’t care. You cried over some lady that was meant to die and-” the smile reaches his eyes and it makes them glow- “you were alone. And so was I.” He holds your face in his hands. “But not anymore.”

Tears flood in your eyes, burning and spilling over, slipping into his palms and making your vision blurry. “I don’t want this,” you breathe out, still against his touch. “None of this is making sense and I-” You’re quieted with a hand that covers your mouth.

“See, I’m not asking you. Of course, you wouldn’t understand or it would take you longer. If I had to be honest, I wasn’t exactly thrilled at what you made me feel either, but here we are.” He sucks in a deep breath. “You’ll understand eventually. You’re going to have to.”

“Please O- Overhaul,” his name is thick on your tongue, “I- If you’re the ruler of Underworld then you should be able to have any- someone who isn’t a mortal. Someone with a fragile life and- and-” you don’t know what else to say. You can’t reason with him. As human as he looks right now, you can see the gold that still adorns his skin, the coldness of his body that makes you flinch, his sharp teeth that are too pointed to be human and the way that his eyes remain bright, glowing even in the light.

He clicks his tongue. “I see no reason why I have to look elsewhere when I already made my decision.” His hands grab at your blanket and he pulls it close to him, your bare legs pricking with bumps and he ignores your gasps and attempts to grab at the blanket, yanking it out of your hands with a simple tug. “Like I already said, I’m not looking for your consent with this. I’ve made my decision already and I’m not changing it to some other mortal that isn’t worthy.” The blanket is folded and he raises from the bed, placing the blanket on a spare chair beside your bed. He turns to you, his shoulders squared and the other glove slipping off of his hand and disappearing into the green folds. “I don’t have to threaten you-” he steps towards you, heels clicking against your floor- “I rather not deal with the mess.” He kicks his shoes off and places them in a neat line, coming to straddle you, his knees against your sides. “I’m not a fan of mess so don’t make me do something that will only result in my anger.” He looks down at your bare legs and with a small push of his hand in between your thighs, your legs open, your gown barely covering what is to be hidden from viewers. “You mortals commemorate events, don’t you? Something to show the love between said lovers?”

“Oh god,” you gasp out, chest heaving and your hands coming to cover your eyes.

“Funny,” he chuckles, “but there’s not a god who’s going to meddle in my affairs.” He flashes you a smile, innocent and wide, lips curled over his teeth and eyes closed. “See, I have a habit to be rather intense.” His eyes open and all pleasantries have vanished, leaving a hungry look in his eyes. “Now, I want to make sure that tonight is perfect. It is our first night together after all.”

As if holding a mind of their own, the robes slither off of him in groups, strands and ribbons mixing in and slipping off, the feathers falling down his back and disappearing before they reach the middle of his spine. He is bare above you and he looks intrigued as he stares at you, bottom lip trembling as you mouth an old prayer, not daring to look at whatever is in front of you and he sighs, boredom laced into the air. He grabs your legs, hooking them over his arms and pushing them close to your chest, your core hidden under your underwear.

“I didn’t want to have you less than cognitive during our first time, but if you refuse to look at me, there’s only so much I can do.” The air around electrifies, sizzling and crackling, the pressure rising and making you feel like you’re about to burst until it drops and everything returns to normal, your mind growing heavy and hands slipping down the side of your face, palm face towards the ceiling and fingers curled inwards. “The effects will dull over time but for now-” the beak is solid, strong and sturdy as it brushes against your cheek- “you’ll feel heavy and slightly aware of what your surroundings.”

Your core, once protected by a single piece of cloth, is exposed, meeting the cool air and your body reacts, heat pulsing and flexing against nothing as he runs a hand down the slit, feeling your bundle of nerves tense under the stranger’s attention.

“Please,” you murmur, “I can’t- you can’t-”

“Oh?” Gold flickers out, long lashes fluttering in disbelief. “Is the mortal commanding me now?” He gives you a tired sigh, shaking his head softly. “Little human,” he says gently, “you really have no say in this matter. You see, alongside my loneliness came boredom and nothing quite pleased me the way it should, but I’ve watched you for quite a while at this point and I know how you would go under the blankets and have your hand slip between your folds while you clawed at the bedsheets.” A hand traces against your inner thigh, the feeling soft and ghostly as he continues to talk. “Such a high libido for such a little thing. Always before the dead of night and washing yourself right after- so cute and clean.” He dips his head, the beak barely grazing above your sex and you hear him take in deep breath. “I could always smell your sex. Sp intoxicating and abundant in the air. To be honest, I’m surprised with how long I lasted before I finally came in.”

Your words of plea fall onto deaf ears as a slender digit is pushed inside of you, moving experimentally inside the gummy walls. “Overhaul,” you choke his name out, “please.” Tears fall over the curve of your face and spill onto the pillows as he adds another finger, curling and petting them inside of you, drool pooling in the back of your mouth.

“I was going to kill you. Put you in my realm but then I wouldn’t be able to feel your warmth,” he muses, twitching his fingers inside, head tilting at the soft shucking noises that emit. “I didn’t know humans can get so wet,” he comments, pulling his fingers out, watching in fascination as your essence sticks and breaks apart as he pulls his fingers. “A work of art,” he mumbles, staring at your sex.

His digits are pressed inside of you, slender fingers that move expertly inside, massaging against your gummy walls. Your body reacts to the stimulus, mind fully against it as you let out a sob. Your legs kick out, nudging against his, your hands curling into soft fists where red blooms as you tighten them only to loosen as he presses his fingers deep within you.

“I don’t want this,” you sob, turning your head to look away from him, vision blurring and images dragging around in a lag. “I’ll do anything else, please, just not this.” You let out a shuddering breath, high pitched and shaky, chest heaving as tears spill and sully your face.

His eyes meet yours in a lazy roll of the eyes, a thin brow raised as he holds a hand in the air. “You see,” he starts with a drawl, “as much as I enjoyed your muffled moans, I’m not one to really care about your pleading. So either you shut your mouth or-” his hand flexes turning to a shade of red, dark and pulsing with black lines running through him, thick and thin, twisting and intersecting with the other lines- “I have to show you just how awful I can really be.”

Your eyes widen in fear, feeling the air sizzle around him, practically feeling the power that courses through him. The arm is thick, muscles protruding with claws that mimic the color of his skin, shape and flexing against the air. Snippets of black veins reaching past his beak and coursing through his face in a mask, creasing as he narrows his eyes at you, his beak slowly opening and drool spilling out. You yelp when it touches at your thighs, sizzling and searing into you, your muscles flexing, back arching as you try to kick your leg in a desperate attempt to get the drool off. The monstrous hand is placed against your thigh and wipes the drool off, and you watch as it morphs back into a regular hand. You slowly close your mouth and eyes, nodding your head.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, voice sultry, and his beak stretches, pulling into what you assume to be a grin. His fingers flex inside of you, curling and prodding against your walls, watching your face scrunch up, tears beading against the corners of your eyes as you contract around him, suckling his digits further into your body. “You see, you're already enjoying this.”

The pressure forms quickly. It’s searing hot, budding and blooming in your lower belly, a tight coil as it wraps around and pulls you further, arousal leaking past your lips, making you shine in a pale glow. You grit your teeth, breathing harshly through your nose, rolling your lips in order to keep your cries muffled, your hands clawing against the sheets, twisting them until your wrists hurt, aching and clit pulsing as he continues his assault.

“You’re close, aren’t you? Your scent when you reach your little high is something I won’t forget.” He takes a deep breath or air, head tilted upwards, his beak parting slightly and thin strands of drool roll against the appendage. He comes down with a bob of his head, eyes half lidded and darker. “I’m sure that it feels good, so why don’t you thank me?” You shake your head, biting your bottom lip, whining under him as you try to get a control on your body. “No? You see princess, I’m only being good to you so I can go in easy but you’re already stretched enough. So either you thank me and I let you reach your high or you keep being an ungrateful brat and I’ll make sure that I reach my own high.” The fingers inside of you stop moving, slipping out leisurely.

“No,” you breathe out, clenching at your sex, feeling arousal slip past your quivering hole. You cover your mouth with your hands, brows furrowed and body shaking.

His fingers pinch at your bud and you cry out. “Beg for it.” You give him a horrified look, mouth parting open in disbelief. “Beg for your King to make you feel good-” he leans close to you, beak grazing above your cupid’s bow- “and I promise to make my subject pleased.”

You keep your lips shut tight, eyes pinched together as the headache swirls to a stop, heavy and dull against your frontal lobe, eyes heavy from glancing at him, breaths coming to a shallow, slow stop. The tightness in your belly dissipates, flowing into nothing and leaving you tense. You whine as you feel his hands hold onto your thighs, a soft brushing of his nails, your essence trailed and against your warm skin.

“I suppose you’re going to stay quiet.” He doesn't wait for a reply, grabbing at your legs and pulling you close to him. Your heat is flushed against something rigged, something that is hard and pokes against you. “Shame. But you’ll beg for it in due time-” his beak nuzzles against your neck, the sharp tip pointed against your pulse- “we both know that.”

You’re left breathless as something firm is pushed inside of you, expanding against your walls and filling you deep, a heavy groan that reaches your ears and mixes in with your whines of pain, hands twisting and pulling taut against the sheets, your breath coming out in harsh puffs of air through your nose.

“”S hurts,” you mewl, “Over- Overhaul,” his name breaks against your tongue, “it hurts.” Tears flood your eyes and spill over in heavy, warm trails.

“I did tell you to beg for it and you were the one who denied my offering of pleasuring you-” his breath is warm against your flesh, fanning across you, the beak is solid against you, poised and sharp as it moves against the sensitive area of your neck- “you only have yourself to blame.”

He pushes himself deep against you, hissing through his beak, eyes clenched shut, a hand gliding up to your chest and gripping at a breast painfully, the other coming to hold himself up, palm flat against the bed. You try to squirm away, twisting and turning your body, your words slurring together and getting choked up as he ruts against you. He pushes himself deep, your walls molding and entrance burning with an unfamiliar pain as you’re forced to widen around him, molding into his shape.

“Overhaul, please-” you push against his chest, eyes stinging with fresh tears, throat raw- “I’m sorry. It hurts.”

He coos near your ear, the tip of his beak creating a thin cut that runs below your jawbone. “Now you know better,” he sighs, rolling his hips against yours, the tip of his cock hitting against your cervix. “You see I’ve bred many before you, so-” his voice turns into a soundless moan as he feels your walls tighten- “tell me, do you think you could produce an heir?”

“No,” you gasp, pushing harder against his chest, “please- no.”

“You’ll be a lovely mother,” he praises. “Full of my child and tits full of milk, ah,” he groans, head rising and beak pulled apart, thin and thick strands of clear saliva stretch from the top and bottom beak. “A sow made for breeding.” He makes an attempt at a laugh, rich and broken by cawing. “A beauty all for me.” His beak presses against your lips, the top of his beak presses between your lips, parting them, a slimy, heavy tongue slipping past and filling your mouth, drool forming and spilling between the corners of your lips and when he looks up he has a smug look, brows raised and eyes glinting. “While I’m not a fan of spilled fluids, I must say that the drugged out look suits you nicely,” he comments cooly, hips never slowing as he searches for his release.

“Overhaul,” you sob, your hands falling from his chest and fluttering over your mouth, wincing at the stickiness that is your drool. “I can’t- Too much.” The pain subsides, dulling for a moment as pleasure overtakes, your body choosing to enjoy what the God above you wants, fluttering and tightening around his shaft. You feel as if you’re about to leak, bursting at the seams, your core tight and pulsing, muscles tightening as you can feel the edge of it lap around your sex. “Please-” your eyes roll to the back of your head, your mouth stretching open and you begin to arch your back- “it’s too much,” you wail behind your palms.

“There’s the pretty girl,” he croons, thrusting deeper against you. “Obedient and pretty. What a good little thing.” He continues to move inside of you, cock heavy and flooding you with warmth as clicking sounds fill the room. His eyes come to a close, brows twitching as he reaches his edge, essence dripping past your leaking core and wetting the sheets below. “I can’t wait to see your belly swell,” he says in a gentle voice, the tight grip against your breast releasing and going to curve over your stomach. “It’ll be a sight to see,” he murmurs, head tilting and eyes squishing into what could be a smile that reaches his eyes. “My human-” he slams against you- “filled with my seed-” he twitches his head as he thrusts against you, voice cracking and strained- “what a sight to behold,” he breathes out, stilling above you, warmth flooding inside.

You gasp, closing your eyes and biting the inside of your cheeks as thick discharge floods out of you, warm and filling, pushing deep inside of you until it can no longer fit and sliding out in slimy trails that make your legs twitch and cunt leak. You stay still, turning your head and flinching when his hand caresses your face.

“I’m no longer alone,” he breathes out, and the air around him comes to a still, the air lightening and you’re able to think without your thoughts being pulled and jostled. His lips are soft against yours, an innocent peck against your lips. “And neither are you.”

You look up, tired eyes meeting golden ones that shine and shimmer, glinting and glittering against the dim light, looking at you filled with promise and false love. He smiles delicately at you, body still pressed against yours and face held tenderly. He rests his forehead against yours, the shadow it creates is small and only darkens lightly, but his eyes still glow bright, gold and menacingly.

[kyutown]

hi! i just found your account and saw you were doing ships so i thought i’d request one!! i was wondering if i could have one for nct (ot23), skz, enhypen & p1harmony?

my mbti is isfp and my enneagram is a 3w4. i’m an aries sun, scorpio moon & gemini rising. when it comes to meeting new people i can be pretty shy just because i get anxiety really easily but once i get comfortable i think i’m really fun to be around. i would consider myself to be a pretty emotional person, i cry a lot and over like everything. my friends say i’m really funny & that they never know what i’m thinking or what the next thing that comes out of my mouth will be. i can get insecure pretty easily too, just because i do have issues with comparing myself to others. i also really like attention tbh, not sure if that’s good or bad but yk :,). i would say my love language is physical touch (but nowadways i’m thinking it could also be quality time?) i also have a older brother, we’re pretty close but we do fight sometimes but i guess that’s just how siblings are.

for my hobbies i don’t do much but! i enjoy video games (i.e. overwatch, apex, minecraft). i’m also really into graphic art and i spend a lot of time just making things on photoshop, so i’d say im a creative person. i really really like music and when i say i listen to it all the time i mean like ALL the time. my favorite western artists are phoebe bridgers, harry styles and mitski. i also like tv shows/books/movies with endings that are sad or will break my heart LMAO idk why but yk. i’m also always on pinterest. i’m sure i have a board for anything and everything you can think of. i also have a small obsession with mood boards and just like aesthetically pleasing photos

for my physical appearance i’m 5’4”, and i have blonde/brown hair that goes down to just above the middle of my back. i have curtain bangs, but they’re super grown out and i don’t plan on cutting them again. i don’t wear much makeup besides on my eyes i wear eyeliner and mascara (sometimes eyeshadow) and occasionally blush.

for clothing i like the clothes i wear to have color. so maybe like baggy blue jeans and a fun colored crop top or sweater! i’m also really into fun pants and things like that too. (sorry i’m really bad at describing my style) i wear jewelry pretty often and it mainly consists of layered necklaces (i have like pearl necklaces gold chains and beaded necklaces and things like that!) and some type of earring, i tend to lean towards dangly earrings too.

i think my favorite type of skinship is cuddling. i don’t think i have much of a type besides a guy who’s taller than me & someone i can joke around with. and someone who looks like they give nice hugs! i want to feel comfortable with whoever i’m with and i think the whole hug thing is a good indicator of that.

hi! thank you for responding!

for nct, i think haechan would match you well! haechan would make the atmosphere very fun and you would feel like you can be yourself with him! he would definitely joke around and would also do a lot of skinship which would make you feel loved!

for stray kids, i think felix would be a great pair with you! felix would be the type of person who would listen to music with you, give you lots of hugs and would play lots of games like minecraft with you! he would enjoy the games that he plays with you and would be very affectionate towards you!

for enhypen, i think you would be nice with sunoo! sunoo is the type who would be the one who would watch movies/tv shows/dramas with you! even if it has a sad ending or happy ending, he would enjoy watching them with you! i think he would also match your colorful style as well!

for p1harmony, i think soul would be a good fit! soul is the type to give lots of hugs once you guys are comfortable with each other to give each other hugs. he would make you feel comfortable as he would be kind, friendly and would be very dedicated to you!

[tokyoghoose]

Hiroo Koji as a boyfriend headcanons

because nohebi rights 😌

Okay listen this dude has like zero personality recorded, wiki is straight up dry and empty so im MAKING THIS BITCH A PERSONALITY IDCIDC lets get s t a r t e d

So just looking at this dude im envisioning a suna and kunimi type character but like with spice because i say so like he's pretty quiet i imagine, kind of edgy but like in a skater boy who doesn't smoke way. Super into respecting women™ and like more laid back than lazy, but he can make snappy comments here and there. The type of guy to dish it out when flirting but as soon as you give the same energy he's turning red ya know?

So in a relationship i imagine it'd be like comfortable silence but like also a lot of laughing 🥺 hes one of those people who seems very intimidating but as soon as you meet he's able to vibe with you so that'll only increase in a relationship. Will 100% make you playlists but will be like lol lemme have the aux (after you two become friends probably asks you to walk to drive him home from practice) and then shows you some of his favorites to see if you like them and then casually makes you one and wordlessly links you or maybe even makes you a tape omg and then would love it if you showed him your songs. He likes seeing people so passionate about things so honestly share anything you enjoy with him and he'll be so interactive and invested like it could even be like stamp collecting and he'd fucking suck it all in. Great listener too, the type of guy to listen to you talk shit and laugh or join in with snarky comments to make you feel better but will call you out on bullshit. dont worry he keeps people in check.

Omg he writes a song for you?? Idk something about him tells me hes into music like a lot so he'd like to express his feelings through it. HIS HAIR PLAY WITH HIS HAIR omg he'd let you do his makeup (pls paint his nails) and put clips and beads in his hair and braid it or basically anything. And if you want him to do yours he totally will like he'll learn your favorite hairstyles and stuff too and will learn about hairtypes but prefers if you teach him about yours so he can learn what you like to do to your hair personally. Also learns your skin cair routine and stuff so if you fall asleep while spending the night or are about to pass out he can help you get through it because he refuses to let you sleep without washing your face properly especially if you wear makeup. Likes to hold hands and likes being the small spoon but will be the big one too if you want him to be, but if yall are laying on the couch he prefers big spoon bc its so cramped.

Dates are probably super casual too. I dont see him going anywhere fancy but i dont see him particularly fond of staying at home all the time either so probably enjoys walking around the city (yall are the couple with sick fits like rad as fuck) even if you guys dont go into any stores or anything and loves vendor food compared to restaurants and cafes. Also buys you little gifts, for your anniversary probably buys you guys matching rings like he gets one of those chunky ones that look good on your favorite choker (his hand 🤩) and you a band if you dont like chunky rings or maybe he'd give you one of his own to put on a chain or MAYBE he just gives you one of his chains or necklaces.

Overall a super good and underrated feminist boyfriend 😌