#my hands are a lot better though so maybe if i just wear gloves...

[msburgundy]

maybe i need to go be miserable tomorrow (ruck 10 miles)

[nervocat]

I HAVE ANOTHER ONE (don't you love me :3). more leona <333

male reader who will show up at random to put flowers in leona's hair or give him flower crowns. and when he leaves, everyone would think leona would toss them or something, but he actually wears them. (i just really like flowers nervo sobs.)

“A Crown for your Head.” (no cws - wc: 257, fluff/platonic/romantic, male reader) FEM ALIGNED DNI WITH THIS POST OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED

Sitting next to Leona, picking flowers around you from the botanical garden and weaving them into a flower crown had become a relatively common thing. Leona didn't mind it.

The peaceful rustling of the plants around you two was comfortable, and so was the silence. It always was.

On your head — there was an already woven flower crown. Why make another one? For Leona of course! You usually just stick flowers in his hair — ones only you knew the meaning of — but this time you're making a crown for him.

Slipping in the last of the flowers in, you hold it up to look at it. Happy with the final product, smiling, you turn to face Leona and put it atop his head, careful of his ears that twitch when the flowers graze them.

Opening his green eyes, he looks at you. “What did you just put on my head?” you giggle a bit, and Leona moves a hand to feel.

His hand stops though when he realizes it's just some flowers. “Putting flowers in my hair again, huh?”

“Not just one though,” you reply. Leona just smiles. “Well, you can do what you want with it. Throw it away, keep it-”

“Why would I throw your flowers away?”

“Huh?”

“I don't mind your flower hobby, or the fact you put them in my hair,” he moves a gloved hand to ruffle your hair, making you whine a bit at it.

“I won't throw ‘em away, as long as they don't wilt they'll stay on my head.”

[ ★ notes: maybe the ending could've been better but this actually turned out a lot better than I thought it would so!! I get to open my requests for twst finally <33 I planned on researching what flowers meant that were vauge enough for this but I gave up.. I still like how it turned out tho without describing what flowers were put into the flower crown I'll let you guys imagine that. Hope you like this devil 🫶🫶 ]

★ — © nervocat || I appreciate any reblogs made, and pls don't repost or translate my works anywhere, ty — ✦

[beanwaterontherocks]

Stress relief

(Hoshina Soshiro)

Pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x gn!Reader (they/them pronouns) Pt2 Pt3 Summary: You and your platoon were sent to Japan's third division base. You get along well with the vice captain, though sparring with him brings way more stress than it relieves. Warnings: Suggestive language and situations, Kissing, 18+ only My first language isn't english, so mistakes may occur. Word count: 1959

You’d heard stories of Japan’s Defense Force back at home and seeing it in person sure didn’t disappoint. Sixteen whole divisions spread over the country. The Tachikawa base, belonging to the Third Division, was a sight to see. A massive structure full of high-tech weapons and skilled officers. You’d been ordered to help out at the base as a show of goodwill. You and your platoon felt a bit out of place at first, coming from a country with less kaiju attacks and a smaller force. But you and your team were willing to help out in any way you could during missions.

You leaned against the balcony, listening to the happy chatter inside the building. It was good that both teams seemed to be getting along, no doubt helped by the casual ‘welcome party’ you’d been greeted with. You fiddled with your half-empty can of beer, as you let out a breath, maybe you shouldn’t be so nervous about this. 

“There you are Commander, I was wonderin’ where you went off to”, a voice spoke and you turned to face Vice-Captain Hoshina. He smiled at you, an expression he seemed to wear a lot, you smiled back politely. “Are we boring ya?” He asked in a teasing tone. You’d pegged him as a more laid-back guy and you’d been right. 

But looking closer, there was something enigmatic about him. His cheerful grin, charming as it was, didn’t always seem sincere. There was more to him than a joking personality. Your interest was definitely piqued. 

“I just needed some fresh air, though I’m glad they’re all having fun”, you responded, watching as he moved to stand a few feet from you, leaning against the balcony too. “Thanks for the warm welcome, I’m glad you guys are more tight-knit like we are”, you spoke and took a sip of your now lukewarm beer. He looked at you for a moment, before glancing at the party through the window behind him. 

“I guess you could say that, though you shouldn’t get too attached, y’know”, he commented and you hummed in agreement. That much was true, it was an unpredictable and dangerous job and anything could happen at any time. There was something you had to point out though, to get back at his teasing earlier. 

“I think that’s a little hypocritical, Vice-Captain Hoshina”, you said, looking at him with a smile. He seemed a little taken back, crossing his arms. “You care a lot about your division, I can tell, otherwise you wouldn’t let them throw parties or even care to make fun of them”, you continued and finished off your drink. “Plus, it’s better to take the risks among friends than among strangers”, you said as you looked up towards the darkening sky. He tilted his head before opening his mouth and…bursting out laughing. You saw him double over and clutch his stomach as he chuckled. 

“Ya sound like some kind of fantasy character, what’s with that?” He said as he continued to wheeze. Although his laugh was cute to listen to (something you felt embarrassed admitting) you still put a hand over your chest, in mock scandal. You were about to speak up when he looked at you, his smile softer than usual. You felt your cheeks heat up, probably just because of the alcohol. “I hope we can get along!”, he said as he straightened his posture, holding a gloved hand out to you. You took his hand, shaking it firmly as you smiled. 

“Me too”, you responded and let go of his hand. 

“So, I heard you use swords when fighting kaiju”, you spoke up, recalling the documents you’d read before coming here. “You don’t see that often, even though it’s pretty effective”, you said and Hoshina raised an eyebrow. 

“You think so?” He asked, a hand resting on his chin. You nodded and explained how optimal it could be for smaller kaiju. There was a much less messy outcome than with guns and it gave more precision to exploit weak spots. Hoshina was silent for a moment before he simply grinned again.

“I heard you like different weapons too, ya use a staff right?” He said and you were a bit surprised, he’d read up on you too. 

“Well, it’s more of a secondary weapon, but I’d really like to spar with you sometime”, you said and Hoshina hummed a bit before nodding. 

“Sure, how about tomorrow night?” He asked, you chuckled in response but you were incredibly interested in seeing him in action. 

“Eager, aren’t we? I’ll take you up on that offer”, you chuckled, this was your chance to see him in action. The two of you rejoined the party and you spent the evening getting to know the officers, occasionally feeling like someone was stealing glances at you. 

It went without saying that being in the Defense Force came with a lot of stress. Daily training regimes, missions, strategizing  and, for you and Hoshina, keeping the officers in line. You had taken to sparring with Hoshina a few times a week to decompress and let it out. Sure, it was nice to relax and recommend books to each other but sparring was definitely the best way to relieve stress. 

Or it would have been, if it wasn’t for how you were distracted by something else.

That something being Hoshina in that skin-tight compression shirt. The way his impressive muscles rippled with every move and how snugly it clung to his defined waist. Though it was hard to take your eyes off his torso, his face was also becoming a problem. 

His jovial expression melted into something more serious when he first took a swing at you. His eyes seemed to open more, exposing that vibrant mauve hue that you wanted to look at even closer. You managed to move to the side and dodge his attack by a hair’s width. You kicked your leg out to throw him off his balance, but he dodged it. Typical, you couldn’t always land a hit on him barehanded, you thought back to earlier this week. You’d gotten your staff to Hoshina’s neck, pressing the wood against his skin and the look he’d given you…like he was daring you to do something. You still weren’t sure what that look meant, but it had been incredibly hot. Here you were thinking like this while he was trying to earnestly spar with you. You mentally slapped yourself as you backed up a bit.

“Hey, how about we make a wager? Whoever loses has to do a favor for the winner”, you suggested, thinking about the nice lunch that the vice-captain salary could get you. Just to think about anything else than the flex of his arms. Hoshina grinned as your match paused momentarily.

“Sure, that sounds fun”, he said teasingly, sending more blood to your face. Damn him. 

You saw his gaze rake over you, preparing himself for whatever you might do. A part deep inside of you hoped that he was looking at you like you did him. But you instantly doubted it, your training clothes were an old t-shirt and biker shorts. You gestured for him to come towards you as you assumed a fighting stance, 

Maybe you were extra distracted or maybe his movements were a bit slower as he lunged at you again. That move seemed way too predictable for Hoshina and you actually managed to catch his fist. 

“Wow, Vice-Captain, is something throwing you off?” You asked, chuckling a bit before you saw his expression. It was that exact same look from before, the one that challenged you, made your heart race so much it thumped in your ears. You couldn’t look anywhere but his face and that led to your defeat. 

He swept your legs out from under you, causing you to fall onto your back, hitting the training room floor. He got on his knees and pinned your wrists down 

“I got ya now”, he said as he leaned over you, dark violet locks framing his face, which was now right in front of yours. He let go of your wrists after three seconds, but neither of you moved away. You tried to keep your gaze upwards, but it slowly drifted down to his lips. His mouth was open slightly, he was breathing heavily. You studied his pointed canines, wondering how they’d feel against your lips. 

The match had been over for a hot minute, yet Hoshina was still this close. The two of you simply looked at each other, engaged in some kind of stalemate. What kind of move should you make? You didn’t want to mess up the steady friendship the two of you had. But you couldn’t ignore the heat radiating off his body or how his locked gaze made you shiver. 

“So, what about that favor?” Hoshina asked, his hand raising, hovering just over the side of your face, like he wanted to cup your cheek. It couldn’t be, was he really having the same feelings? Maybe this was only your only chance to know for sure, without completely messing things up. You looked him in the eye, taking a breath before speaking:

“I’ll do you the favor of letting you kiss me”. 

You waited, had you been wearing your suit, it would have warned you of a dangerously accelerated heart rate. If he didn’t feel the same way, you still had time to frame it as a joke, a cheeky remark like the ones you two always shared. There was no more time to nervously ponder. Because Hoshina leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

It was a feverous kiss, his hand went to hold your face as he pressed himself even closer. You felt relief wash over you as you kissed him back with matched passion. You wrapped your arms around his neck and ran your tongue across his bottom lip. Hoshina chuckled into the kiss before opening his mouth. Those sharpened canines felt just as good as you’d hoped. He nipped at your lips with them, though never hard enough to draw blood. Hoshina’s other hand went down to your thigh, snaking a finger under the hem of your shorts. He pulled the tight fabric and it snapped against your thigh, making you gasp. 

“How am I supposed to focus when you’re wearin’ these”, he said breathlessly when he pulled away from your lips. You laughed and moved your arms from his neck to his waist, running your palms over his clothed, toned back with a satisfied sigh.

“I guess we’re even then”, you spoke, finding the hem of that godforsaken shirt. You were desperate to get it off and feel more of his skin, more of him. 

But you both decided it’d be better to continue somewhere private. You leaned back on his bed, watching as he crawled towards you and caged your body in with his own. Wasting no time, you tugged at his shirt until he got the message and peeled it off. You felt heat between your legs as you pulled off your own shirt. He stared at you, a look like one he gave you when you were sparring. But there was something else in his gaze, a deep hunger, like he’d been holding it back for a while. 

“We’re far enough away from the others, make as much noise as you wanna”, he said, so close that you could feel his breath on your neck. You put your palm on the back of his head and threaded your fingers into his dark violet locks. You pushed him closer and caught his lips, moving your leg between his. Just like your sparring matches, you’d give it all you had. 

[lucasandlily]

Rui x Reader who is really affectionate, but can't touch him because of The Curse.

A/N: I'm alive!! Rui my beautiful beautiful tragic boy. I've actually been having a lot of brainrot for this game, particularly an isekai AU that made me contemplate making RP blog (I love you guys btw. This is probably my first fandom where they're so active, I've been really well connected with this fandom somehow and it's so fun!!), so I figured I might as well be writing it down now. This is an idea I've had spinning in my head for a while, so it's VERY self-indulgent/insert, but enjoy!! AO3 link here

Rui's POV. Second-person pronoun "You" is used. Angst! But also fluff!! (825 words)

You’ve always been an affectionate little thing. It’s something Rui finds adorable about you, staying optimistic despite all that looms over you, not letting any of the ghouls he KNOWS can be more than a little much sometimes destroy your positive attitude. It’s as if you decided to be the light in a place that literally has dark in its name, and he lov admires you for that.

He can’t help but feel the bitter green of envy though, when he watches you ruffle Lyca’s hair after he whines at you for treating him like a dog. 

He pointedly turns away from the look Ed gives him over your head when you relax into his chest after he leans over your shoulder.  

He just laughs along at your drunken antics when you nuzzle into Haru’s hand, somehow even more touchy when your cheeks are flushed with alcohol. 

He tries not to remember the flash of hurt, confusion, the first time he’d backed away from your hand when all you wanted to do was give him a pat for a job well done. He doesn’t know if it hurt more when your face morphed into regretful understanding, or when you apologised and told him you’d try not to do it again. 

Rui tells himself it’s for the better when he notices you’ve been avoiding him for the past week. He’d have done the same to you anyway, if he realised his feelings were starting to fester. He tries to not let it get to him when he hears you enter the Obscuary mansion, only to quickly patter up the stairs without stopping by the bar first, as you would have done previously. 

Maybe before, he would have made it a little competition to see who could mess up the other’s hair more. He’d watched you run your fingers through Lyca’s after you’d tousled it out of place, anyway. Maybe in another life, you’d gently hold his face as you showered him with kisses. He’d do the same to you anyway, if he wasn’t forced to keep his hands to himself. 

If he didn’t notice you hold your hand back every time you saw his mask slip. If he didn’t see your hand stop short before pulling it back to tell him he had a bit of hair out of place. 

It’s all just part of the cursed life, he tells himself. He should be getting used to it by now, he sighs as he walks down the hall over to his room. 

Behind him, he hears the jingle of the bell you like to wear on your keychain. He turns at the sound of your quick steps approaching. 

“Rui! Ruiruiruiii!!” You call.

“Ah, there you are! Haha, I’m not going anywhere you know~ though I guess I don’t mind being chased?” He teases as you approach. 

You smile up at him brightly, “I have something to show you!” You tell him, he notices now that you have a hand behind your back. 

“Hm? Aw, did you get me a gift? And here I was thinking you were hiding from me!” He regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth. Your smile falters a bit as you blink at his confession. 

But before he can backtrack with a “Just kidding!” your smile lightens again, eyes filling with some sort of resolve as you pull out… a glove on a stick? in your other hand.

He doesn’t pull away when he feels the simulation of a hand on his head. He can’t, when you look into his eyes with such unmistakable fondness. The awkward, stilted movements as you try to run the imitation hand through his hair communicates how long you’ve wanted to do this, and the tears that well up in his eyes betray how much he’s needed it. 

He feels the cloth soak up the tears when you move the glove down to hold his face. It feels soft under his skin, and he can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. 

“How long did it take you to make this?” He asks as you let him lace his fingers with your hand extension. He squeezes the plush hand, feeling the soft give before it reaches the stick inside, inspecting where the glove and stick are attached. 

“Um! A week? It took a bit of experimenting to get it to stay on… And they don’t really sell gloves on campus either.” 

Your eyes crinkle when you look at him, the corners of your lips pull up triumphantly when he lets go of the hand to let you pat his head again. 

“You deserve at least this much,” you tell him. “I know it’s not really the same or anything, but I don’t wanna leave you out, y’know?” 

“It was worth it though, if it made you happy.” You look into his eyes as you say this, and he can’t help but believe you.

Reblogs and Comments are appreciated! I love you (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

[danieyells]

idk if this has been brought up before, sorry if it has, and maybe I'm just thinking too hard on this but I keep looking at the official tokyo debunkers Twitter banner and like seeing taiga with that smirk, but then the broken piece has him with a wide eye + the theories of him seeing the future and such got me thinking.. or maybe it's just a cool banner, what do I know LOL

lol i waited until i got home because i had it saved in HQ for reasons that probably won't come to pass off the twitter page on my laptop

I LOVE THIS BANNER it's such a good image and it shows off Taiga's crazy. Taiga is kind of the game mascot atm, interestingly enough. He's the first character you meet, he's the game icon and twitter header, he has some important knowledge of a major plot point. . .you'd think it'd be Kaito since he's kind of your sidekick and the one who teaches you everything at first, but Taiga's got all the impact.

But yeah, either he's losing his mind back there, or he's Seeing Some Shit. The broken gap in the image showing him with wide eyes is very much a little suggestion of 'there is more going on here than you see on the surface' which, admittedly, is kind of the setting of the game('there's more to the world than meets the eye and you're thrown into the world of anomalies common sense would tell you aren't real') but. . .yeah, if you think about Taiga possibly being able to see the future, which is similarly a hidden aspect of him, then the image is even cooler.

I'm honestly getting more and more attached to that theory as time goes on. Because I remembered today at work. . .Taiga doesn't wear gloves with his uniform, unlike with his house outfit.

When the pc is in the torture chair and his hunger is triggered by their blood, he touches them, bare hand to bare skin.

and then suddenly he snaps out of it, suddenly aware that Romeo was coming.

to which I suspect. . .touching the pc caused them to enhance his stigma by accident. This happened to activate it automatically. And he saw the future without meaning to--perhaps in more detail than usual. That's also how he knew exactly where to shoot to hit the like dove--because he saw it fly in in his stigma's vision.

That's also why he said Ritsu could close the casino and he didn't need it.

The whole future he saw was so fucked(again?) and the casino wasn't helping to alleviate or avoid whatever he had made it for, or perhaps was causing more of a problem--it had, after all, spawned a dangerous anomaly. He just sort of lost steam and gave up all of a sudden. Yeah, take it away, we're fucked no matter what we do. (He got better, though. I too overcome my trauma and depression by forgetting things.)

. . .BUT UH YEAH. IT'S A SUPER GOOD BANNER IMAGE THAT SAYS A LOT. I really love it. Taiga is seeing into the code. It is traumatic but when he forgets in 15 minutes he'll be fine.

[creepswrites]

Hi there! I just recently discovered your page but I already love your writing style! Can I request a oneshot with poly Sinclair brothers (either just Bo and Vincent or all three, whichever you like better) and gn reader? Maybe the reader usually doesn't get involved when people come to Ambrose, and just stays at the house while the boys do their thing, but this time things get a bit out of control and they have to step in to help? Like prevent one of the victims from getting away or one of the boys from getting hurt?

Feel free to ignore this though, no pressure. Have a nice day! 😊

omg hiii i see you in the comments on a lot of my posts!! i'm so glad you like my writing, you're very sweet :) i loooove writing the Sinclair boys so i hope you enjoy!! sorry this took so long, lots of things kept popping up in my life

SINCLAIR BROTHERS x GN!READER (they/them)

SUMMARY: "There are people! A-A truck! Headin' towards town! They- They have guns, and, and!" Words spilled out of your mouth and you felt your heartrate skyrocketing. The idea of anything bad happening to Bo and Vincent just made you feel...

WARNING: graphic death/violence

Living in Ambrose had not been exactly your choice.

Bo had found you and a few of your friends on the side of the road and Vincent had convinced him to let him "keep" you once they had killed your friends. Not as a wax figure but as a real, living person. At first you'd kept to yourself, staying in the workshop to avoid Bo's anger and pretended you didn't hear the screams. You'd turn your back to Vincent when he worked, sitting and sobbing in the corner of the workshop with your hands over your ears to block out the sound of screams.

Now? It was perfectly normal to you.

"Hey Sweetpea!" Lester called to you, snapping you back to the present. Right, you were helping Lester this morning. Bo had tried to keep you inside to clean the house but the youngest Sinclair had begged to have you help him collect roadkill.

You liked Lester. He'd been sweet with you since the moment you'd arrived and, despite Bo and Vincent's constant arguments on the topic, you'd started a relationship with Lester before either of them. The two of you had just clicked and you'd been attached at the hip ever since. He was big on physical affection and would often make you little charms to hang in your bedroom - you had your own room, something you'd put your foot down after Bo had pitched the idea you just ocellate between sleeping in all their rooms. You wanted your own space.

Giving you choices wasn't always Bo's go-to. He'd been the toughest to wear down, always high-strung and he didn't exactly have a great role model as to what a good partner should be. Your relationship with Bo always felt rocky and unsteady. But he was sweet in his own way. He was terribly possessive of you - often to the detriment of everyone in the house - and wasn't afraid to flaunt you in front of guests. It always made your face flush hot when he did.

Vincent was the complete opposite. Shy and quiet, even after he'd insisted on you staying with them. He never tried to push you to do anything and always expressed his gratitude even for something as simple as doing the dishes. He liked to spend time with you, even if you were doing separate tasks. Vincent made you little wax figurines for your room - no people statues, you'd told him one afternoon - and they sat proudly on your windowsill beside a deer skull Lester had got you.

The term "dating" didn't really fall on any one particular brother. You were sort of "dating" all of them, in your own way. They knew this, you'd all talked about it, but it was still a relatively new shift in the dynamic.

"Gosh, you're awfully far away, huh?" Lester said with a warm chuckle and you startled a bit. He was much closer up now, dirt smudged on his cheeks and work gloves that he was careful not to touch you with.

"Sorry, yeah, must be." You trailed off, not meeting his eyes.

He tilted his head curiously and raised an eyebrow. "Good things?"

You hummed approval and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, relishing in the way he blushed. "Thinkin' 'bout you, if you can believe it."

Lester barked out a laugh. "Sometimes it still ain't feel real, Sweetpea. Flattered though, 'm always thinkin' 'bout you. But you know that."

The evening was calm, a beautiful pink-purple sunset and a cool breeze to offset the exhausting heat of the day. Cleaning the roads wasn't exactly your idea of a fun time but it beat cleaning the house for the fifth time in the past two weeks. The three weren't exactly the cleanest people but even they weren't that bad. Besides, you knew that some new "guests" were going to be coming to town in the next day or two and you wanted some time outside the town before Bo cracked down on you.

Sometimes it felt like he still didn't trust you.

You were climbing back into the truck with Lester when you both heard gunshots coming from down the road. "The hell?" He mumbled, squinting as he tried to get a good view of what was going on. "Are they headin' this way?"

A large truck was speeding towards you, bright headlights the only indication of where it was. The headlights were getting closer and you could hear people shouting as the truck picked up speed.

They were trying to hit you two.

You grabbed Lester's arm and yanked him off the road, the two of you falling over into the grass with the force of it. The people in the truck cheered and mocked you as they passed by, flinging an empty beer can at you and soaking through your shirt. It stunk but you were just glad it wasn't a glass bottle.

"Shit- Are you okay?!" Lester sat up with a wince as he rubbed his arm. You two hadn't landed gracefully, you were just happy he wasn't really hurt. "Jesus, Sweetpea, did they throw a-?"

"They're headin' towards Ambrose." You gasped, watching the blinding red taillights disappear down the road. "Bo and Vinny, they don't-!"

You both shot into action, scrambling to your feet and tossing your gloves in the back of the truck with the carcasses. It didn't matter, all that mattered was warning the twins. You winced at the stink of beer as you reached into your pocket to pull out your cell phone. It was old, something Bo stole from one of his many victims, and you only ever really used it to call Lester if you needed something at the store.

But you punched in Bo's phone number despite shaking fingers as you and Lester got in the truck. You took off after the truck, Lester's anxious fingers drumming on the wheel as you held the phone to your ear.

It felt like an eternity in between each thrum of the dial tone.

Bo picked up after the third ring.

"Hey, what's goin'-"

You cut him off. "There are people! A-A truck! Headin' towards town! They- They have guns, and, and!" Words spilled out of your mouth and you felt your heartrate skyrocketing. The idea of anything bad happening to Bo and Vincent just made you feel...

"Shit, fuck, didja see how many?"

"No! I- They sped right past, they, uh, they threw beer at me and-"

You could hear the sound of what must've been a wrench clanging to the floor. So he was in the autoshop. Okay. At least he wasn't far. "Like hell they did, I'll kick their asses when they get here!"

You swallowed around a dry throat and a tearless sob wracked your body. "Guns! They have guns, Bo."

"So do I." And he hung up before you could say anything else.

Lester could tell you were scared, reaching gingerly across the center console to over you his hand. You took it and squeezed tight, trying to hold in your anxiety and fear. "Shh, hey, it's alrigh' Sweetpea. We've done this all before, Bo'll be fine."

You just nodded, swallowing back the feeling that this felt different. More dangerous.

You wanted your boys to come out of this okay...

The truck was parked outside the entrance to town and you felt your heart sink at the sight. Lester hadn't even come to a complete stop before you were out the door and grabbing the old rusty shovel from the back of the truck. Usually, you'd never even dream of touching that thing without gloves on.

Now, you didn't even care.

You started your march towards the house, shovel tight in your hands and Lester's footsteps close behind. He must've grabbed his shotgun from the backseat since you heard him reload it. "Stay close, Sweetpea. Ain't no tellin' what those folks'll do."

"Okay," you mumbled, slowing only enough for him to catch up.

Screaming could be heard from inside the house. You and Lester shared a look before you both took off running. The front door was wide open and a dead body lay sprawled out on the porch, blood leaking from the back of it's head. You didn't even give it thought as you pushed inside.

Some guy was loading up his shotgun as Bo held a knife dangerously close to the throat of some girl, one arm around her squirming body as he shouted at the guy to drop the gun. The girl was begging the man not to shoot and you locked eyes with her for a brief, fleeting second.

Then you descended upon the man with ferocity you didn't even know you had. You slammed the shovel into the back of his head and sent him tumbling to the floor but you didn't let up. You swung over and over, the floor splattering with blood as you began to chip away at his flesh and skull. Bits of bone and brain began to splatter across the hardwood floor and you felt tears rolling down your cheeks.

With a final swing, you lodged the shovel into the guys head, his dead eyes lolling at nothing.

Both you and the girl were screaming and crying.

You fell to your knees with a heavy thud, sobbing openly over the dead body. You'd never had to kill anyone before, the brothers never made you, and you felt horrified with how angry you were. How afraid you'd felt at the idea of the man firing on Bo.

And, more importantly, how you didn't even regret killing him.

"Sh, shhh, it's okay," Lester's words washed over you as he wrapped an arm around your back. You sobbed into his chest as he rubbed your back, trying to soothe as best he could. Your ears were ringing and everything felt as though it were underwater.

Footsteps bounded up the stairs and you looked up to see Vincent. He was kneeling between you and the body, looking you over as though expecting to find injuries.

When Vincent helped you stand up, you could finally process the rest of the house.

The place was in shambles, the pool table flipped over as some poor attempt at cover and a few picture frames had fallen and broken. Glass scattered across the rug and a few more bodies littered the downstairs. Bo must've shot most of them and Vincent may have chased down the others.

You felt silly, in retrospect. Obviously they could handle themselves. But you'd just felt so scared. There'd never been an ambush before, nothing like this. Or, at least, not while you'd been living there.

Vincent and Lester helped you stand, your feet crunching in glass. Without hesitation, you slumped forwards and wrapped your arms around Vincent in a tight hug, hiding away your face as you tried to steady your breathing. His fingers traced gentle patterns on the back of your shirt that helped to steady you.

Bo had knocked the girl out, her limp body laying across the floor inelegantly. You suspected you'd see a polaroid or two of her on Bo's basement walls in the next few days, when he'd had his fun torturing her.

"Hey, doll," Bo's voice was close and you lifted your eyes to see him. He looked concerned but there was pride there. "Got 'em real good, huh?"

You gave a glance down at the man with a shovel lodged in his head and shrugged. "I was... worried."

"Well, shit, if that's what you do when yer worried, remind me to never miss yer calls." Lester huffed with a playful grin. Vincent grabbed his hat and smacked him with it, making the younger brother laugh.

Bo rolled his eyes and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Awful sweet of ya to come protect us, doll." He said as Vincent and Lester bickered. "I do appreciate it."

You hugged him and felt yourself finally relax. The bickering, the soft affection, everything seemed to be back to normal. Perfect.

Though it seems like you'll need to be cleaning the house again this week...

[rwrbficrecs]

We’ll Invite Something In by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@dot524: This is a fandom favorite and for good reason. In this canon divergence AU, Alex is President, Henry is out, and they never got together in their 20s. Instead, they encounter each other in their late 30s and a very different type of relationship ensues. They still hide it at first, but there’s a lot of living that they both have done and need to work through. I really enjoyed the character dynamics here and how the premise changed both Alex and Henry, making them bolder and more mature. Definitely read this one!

Eyes Blue, Like the Atlantic by bleedingballroomfloor (book-verse)

@dot524: A Titanic AU! Adapted by an excellent writer, this one has suspense, action, romance, and intrigue. There is a MCD (Main Character Death) in here and some other tags to be aware of, but also vibrant scenes with dancing, chasing, art, and formal wear. I really enjoyed it!

Clean Slate by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@heysweetheart-writes: This was just so excellent. I devoured it in no time, couldn't put it down. I love the way Alex just slips into Henry's life like a silk glove even though Henry has his hesitations. There's abslutely no angst at all other than "you're too young for me" "no, next question" I love it. I love Henry finally feeling young for the first time. I think that is something that Henry generally feels after meeting Alex, like he's never been able to, no matter at what point in life he is. ANYWAY I'm talking about Henry way too much again for a rec. Read this.

Most People Exist by @sprigsofviolets (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Henry, 30, is a nurse on a cancer ward. From the very first moment he feels an intense connection and attraction to his newest patient, the one who has a brain tumor and is named Alexander Claremont-Diaz. - The tags say it all: "Falling in love, Slow Burn, Angst with a happy ending, Hurt/Comfort". After reading this story I am a whole new person. I laughed and cried, had butterflies in my stomach, I felt it all. Hands down one of the best fics I've ever read!

after hours by @dumbpeachjuice (book-verse)

@na-dineee: How much can happen in a few hours? stutteringpeach: Hold my beer. 😅🤝 Reading this was truly a roller coaster ride, my stomach was doing somersaults non-stop: On his last evening in New York, poet Henry meets bartender Alex and the two spend the night together - in true "Before Sunrise" style. To sum it all up: enchanting, sweet, phenomenal, iconic!

No. 1 (Royal Red and Blue) Oil on Canvas by @captainjunglegym (book-verse)

@zwiazdziarka: This fic is so twisted and surprising in the best way! The summary did not prepare me for all the action that comes after the initial relationship drama and I'd really like to fawn over it some more but I don't want to spoil the fun of figuring out what really is going on and what are characters' motivations. Just give it a try.

Meet the Parents (series) by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)

@dot524: I really enjoyed these thoughtful character studies of Ellen and Oscar. The two short stories are a series of canon vignettes from Oscar and Ellen’s POV. These glimpses of the Claremont-Diaz parents add heart and depth to the RWRB canon, giving insight about how Ellen and Oscar think about parenthood, power, family, and each other.

Leave The World Better Than You Found It: A BONES AU by @treluna4 (book/movie-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: I really enjoyed this FirstPrince meets procedural TV show fic! With Alex as Booth and Henry as Brennan, they learn to work together, solve crimes--and fall in love, of course. Plus take down a very satisfying book villain.

No Laughing Matter by @inexplicablymine (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is absolutely hysterical- a must read if you need something to cheer you up! It's also very relatable for anyone who, like me, has said things they've regretted in all the best ways!

in summer air by @acdsbff (book-verse)

@na-dineee: I need a vacation and vitamin D - maybe that's why this series (both POVs are covered 🥰) captivated me so much?! It is set on a Greek island, where Alex, just cheated on by his boyfriend, meets hotel owner Henry. What follows is a whirlwind speedrun romance against a beautiful backdrop. Really therapeutic for the heart on dreary days!!

here is a map (with your name as a capital) by @alasse9 (book-verse)

@dot524: What an incredible surprise to have this entire 50k story drop at once. In this canon divergent story, Alex and Henry start getting to know each other in Rio, when Alex helps him recover from a panic attack. Their friendship, and later their relationship, is a delightful slow burn with funny moments, heartbreak, and steady support of each other. I thoroughly enjoyed this start to finish — the characterization of both Alex and Henry is on point and I really enjoyed how the writer changed some of the scenes from the book while keeping key callbacks. A delight.

Claremont 2008 by @happiness-of-the-pursuit (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This friends to lovers AU is done so well! Having Henry and Alex meet as kids means we get years of their friendship before they even start dating, and it gives every aspect of their relationship so much depth through this entire fic. It also gives some events only referenced in the novel a completely different perspective, which makes them even better!

keep me in the moment (don't it feel so real?) by @anincompletelist (book-verse)

@heysweetheart-writes: I absolutely love everything that comes out of Sarah's magic little fingers and this was no exception. Alex and Henry are best friends and pinning over eache other unknowingly and an accidental lil discovery turns their relationship upside-down (for the better) absolutely recommended. I honestly loved it so much.

you know i can't be found with you by @dumbpeachjuice (book-verse)

@heysweetheart-writes: This was SO much fun. Alex was RELENTLESS and I absolutely love an older Henry. It was also very fucking funny. 10/10

the great duck fiasco by @alexclaremont-diaz (book-verse)

@suseagull04: A spy AU, dating apps, and Alex's Texas roots combine in the funniest way possible- definitely read this if you want a good laugh!

[so-long-soldier-writes]

More Than Friends

kai parker x reader (80s!kai x witch!reader)

summary: your "more than friends" status with kai is revealed when you lose hold of a silencing spell. jo, of course, has a lot to say about it.

tags: jo's boyfriend, fluff, smut, choking, vaginal sex, pet names, overstimulation, loss of consciousness, spell failure, dysfunctional family, mentions of child abuse, siphoning

word count: 2.9k

“Do you hear that?” 

The smallest sound of a girl’s whine is heard over the movie playing. The boy watching the screen turns to his girlfriend to see if she caught it, too. 

“Jo?”

“Hm, what?”

“Did you hear that noise?”

Suddenly, on the tv, a woman cries out. The killer has slashed her throat.

“That one?”

“No, you goof, the one coming from upstairs. I thought we were home alone tonight.”

“We are. Aside from Kai, but Kai is Kai. He doesn’t leave his room.”

“Well could he be doing anything to be making that noise?”

“Jackson, I don’t even hear a noise. But no, he has strict orders from Dad and he knows the consequences if he breaks them.”

Jackson stills. Maybe he didn’t hear anything. In the back of his mind, he knows he did, but if Jo says it’s nothing, it’s nothing. Besides, if it is her brother, he figures it’s best to leave it alone. Jack’s never met Kai - Jo’s been adamant about that - but he does know the basics from her and her siblings. 

You can’t touch him, and you really shouldn’t talk to him. He can hurt people just by touching them, and will hurt people to get his way. 

Jo’s little sister, Clara, had said to him once: if Kai doesn’t wear his gloves, Daddy gets mad, because then he can hurt us. He did it to Sarah once and made her cry. 

That alone is enough to keep him away from the boy. And despite his curiosities, he refuses to pry, mostly out of fear of Jo’s dad. Even without the dangerous son, the man is scary. The first time he showed up on the doorstep to take Jo out on a date, he had nearly threatened him. Sure, that’s a typical dad thing, but something tells him that Joshua Parker wouldn’t hesitate to actually harm him if he thinks it’s necessary. Maybe that’s where Kai gets it…

An eerie chuckle from the TV snaps the boy out of his thoughts as Chucky approaches his next victim.

Jo curls into her boyfriend, sweating. “Maybe we should’ve watched “Children of the Corn” instead,” she mutters.

Oh, yeah, that’s another thing… 

Jackson’s mind flashes back to about an hour ago, when they were picking the movie.

“Not “Children of the Corn”,” Jo shudders, “that boy shares a name with my brother.”

Kai’s real name is Malachai. How creepy is that?!

“Eh, I think we’re better off with the killer doll,” he decides, also perturbed by the name. 

As Jo cuddles into him, he starts to forget the sounds he thought he heard upstairs. 

~~~~~

You’re breathing heavily, hardly. Kai’s hand is around your throat as he rocks his body into you. He pulls out nearly all the way before thrusting back in, and you swear his cock is reaching your stomach. His other hand holds onto your waist to keep you in place, probably leaving a bruise you’ll find in the morning. Every so often, he ducks his head to nip and lick at your breasts. Or, he’ll lock eyes with you, and you’ll feel your pussy fluttering, wetness pooling. 

“Kai,” you mutter, eyes fluttering. Between his grip and the pleasure, you’re having trouble forming words. 

And normally you wouldn’t care, but one thing’s wrong: the spell is breaking, you can feel it. You’re losing your concentration, and quite frankly, your consciousness. 

“Kai. Sl-slow d-, wait-” the last word turns into another moan, and you’re unable to get his attention.

You can feel the energy of the magic in the room as it weakens. Though as the spell fizzles out, your orgasm draws nearer. Harder, even, as if the magic is channeling itself into you instead of holding up your silencing spell. Kai repositions his fingers on your neck, but he doesn’t slow down. There’s no telling what Jo is probably hearing now. The thought of her telling on you two starts to fill you with fear. Sweat beads at your forehead and you fight to cry out your boyfriend’s name as he keeps pace.

“Cum for me, Princess,” he whispers into your neck. 

The pet name takes you out, quite literally. Forgetting all about Jo and the spell, your orgasm hits you. White spots take over your vision and your mouth becomes dry. Equal parts pain - from his grip on your neck - and pleasure - between your high and his, occurring at the same time - are felt throughout your body. He spills into you, filling you so much that it already starts to leak out. Your legs are shaking hard, and for a second, you black out. 

When your head slacks onto the pillow, Kai stops abruptly and removes his hand from your neck. “Princess, are you okay? Wake up, please, come on.” He gently taps the sides of your face to bring you back to consciousness. With no luck, panic starts to rise in his chest. “Y/N, please.” Grabbing the water bottle beside the bed, he puts the cool metal against your neck, hoping a temperature shock will do the trick. 

Immediately, your eyes open. You wake gasping, still feeling the effects of your high.

“Hey, gorgeous, you okay? Sit up, let me get you some water.” Kai fully pulls out of you, then comes to your side to tuck a few pillows under your head. He holds the bottle as you drink, playing with your hair gently at the same time. 

Finally, you’re stable enough to look at him. Before you can get a word out, he’s already talking. “Baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you okay? I think I choked you too hard, or maybe I should’ve slowed down. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

His concern melts your heart. “Shh, it’s okay,” you sit up to cradle his face, assuring him he didn’t hurt you. “I’m totally fine, and you didn’t do anything wrong. I enjoyed every minute of that, Kai.”

“You blacked out because of me.”

“Yeah, because you can fuck me that well, Kai. That’s something to be proud of.” 

He tries to smile, but you can see he’s still worried.

“I promise I’m okay.”

“Okay… can I at least take you downstairs to go get some orange juice? I don’t want you passing out again. Just in case.”

“Of course.” But as soon as you say it, you realize, “wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Part of the reason I think I blacked out was the spell.”

“What? What spell?” 

“Kai - the silencing spell.”

His blood runs cold, “oh fuck.”

“I lost it right before we came. I think I tried to warn you, but I was too lost in the feeling.”

“Oh fuck, Y/N, I’m sorry! You tried to stop me, this is my fault!”

“No, no, no, hey, baby, come here.” The boy avoids your eyes, so you hold his face to make him look at you. “It is not your fault. And even if it was, I don’t care. It’s not the end of the world if your innocent little sister hears us.”

“She’s my twin,” Kai misses the point. 

“Kai.”

“Hm?”

“She’ll live.”

“But if she tells Dad, we’re both screwed. He’ll ban you; he’ll do a stupid little spell that’ll keep us apart.”

“Then we’ll just have to bribe her. Chocolates?”

“Y/N, she’s daddy’s good little girl,” he mocks, “she’ll tell.”

You try to hide your anxiety. If Kai knows you’re worried, he’ll be ten times as worried. “Well, we can’t undo it. What’s done is done.”

“Maybe you didn’t lose the spell?”

Biting your lip, you answer, “no, I definitely did. But it’ll be okay, okay? Let’s just… go downstairs, like you said. Because to be honest, I am still a little out of it,” you try to refocus his anxiety onto your black out instead of his fear, “and if she brings it up, I’ll handle it.”

Thankfully, he nods. 

“I promise you, it’ll be fine, Kai.” You give him a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. I trust you.”

“I trust you, too, pumpkin.”

Minutes later when you’ve dressed, you and Kai head downstairs, hand-in-hand. He’s still adamant about getting you an orange juice, and has now suggested several snacks, too. Though the sound of the TV being on as you near the kitchen has him holding your hand more tightly. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, “maybe it blocked us out.”

The way the Parker house is designed, anyone in the living room can clearly see anyone in the kitchen, and vice versa. The fridge door, however, blocks the person looking inside it. So the minute Kai opens the fridge, and you’re left standing by the sink, Josette’s and Jackson’s eyes turn to you. 

“Hey, guys. Are youuuuu-?” You drag out the last letter, pointing at the unfamiliar boy. 

“Jackson, Jo’s boyfriend.”

“Right.” You knew she had a boyfriend, but had never met him. Kai hadn’t, either.

“And who are you?” He shoots the question back at you. 

Jo, however, cuts you off before you can even start to speak, “Kai’s only friend, that apparently, is a little more than a friend.”

So they heard. Whoops. 

“Yeah, um, about that…”

“Dad gave you one rule when you started hanging out with my brother, and it was to not touch him. Do you not remember that?!”

“Oh but how could I not? His skin is so soft,” you whine. 

“Y/N!”

“Jo, how am I not going to touch him? He’s my best friend.” You notice her eyes harden as soon as you say that. “What am I supposed to do if he needs a hug? Or if we’re watching a movie and our shoulders touch slightly? Ooh,” you make a wide gesture with your hands, “scandalous!”

“Y/N, this isn’t you.”

“Oh, it isn’t?! I’m sorry, was I supposed to come here almost every day to see you and pretend I didn’t notice your brother being left out of things? Forced to wear those stupid gloves because your daddy thinks he’s trying to hurt you? Not even allowed to talk to people, not allowed to leave his room half the time, not allowed to go on these stupid family functions you always have? Even I got invited to one of those, and I’m not even a part of this family. Josette, it’s insane! No wonder you think he’s crazy, you don’t even know him! You’ve never even let boyfriend over here meet him. Whatcha gonna do if he marries in? Say, ‘oh that’s my twin brother, but you’re never even gonna make face-to-face contact with him’? That screams dysfunctional family, and that’s not Kai’s fault!”

This interaction wasn’t going as planned. You hadn’t meant to start a fight with your ex-best-friend, you wanted to convince her not to tell on you and her brother. Well now she definitely will. Yet, you can’t stop. 

“We are a dysfunctional family because of him, Y/N! He’s the reason we’re like this.”

“Why?! Because he was born different?! Because he doesn’t have ma-”

“Shut up, Y/N!” Her eyes widen as she scolds you. 

Jo never says anything remotely close to a bad word, nor does she raise her voice. Her reaction only means one thing: Jackson doesn’t know. He doesn’t know they’re witches. Holy shit. You look over to Kai, both of you wearing shocked expressions. 

The house goes quiet. Jo’s embarrassed by her own outburst, and everyone else is too speechless. 

Finally, she calms, “just stop. I’m sorry I yelled. I don’t want to fight with you, I just want to know why you’re with him,” her face has a look of disgust, “like that.”

You sigh, “I’m dating him, because I love him, Jo. Because I let him in, and got to know him, and fell in love with him. He’s not some rabid animal trying to hurt you for fun, and he’s certainly not the man in the house you should be fearing.”

“Wait, me?” Jackson asks, confused, and ruining the seriousness of the conversation. 

“No, idiot. Her dad.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s scary.”

Kai finally comes out from behind the fridge door. You knew he was hiding, but now it seems he’s gotten the courage to face his sister. Jackson stares at him, seeing him for the first time. Without glancing up at them, he hands you a glass of orange juice and a snack.

“Eat that.”

“What is it?”

“Cheese blocks. One sec, I have crackers, too.”

“So you’re Mala-”

“Don’t call him that,” you hear Jo mutter.

“-Kai.”

“Yep.”

“And you’re-”

“Y/N.”

“Soooo, best friends,” he points to you and Jo, “then curious about brother, but can’t be friends with both, so you chose brother, now you’re dating?”

“Yep,” you confirm with the same tone your boyfriend just used.

Kai then rises from the pantry floor, crackers in hand. “Eat this, too. Salt good for dizziness.”

“Why are you dizzy?”

Jeez, this boy is nosy. 

“You wanna take a guess?” You can’t help being sassy to him. 

“Oh.”

“Anyway… we’re going to go watch a movie now. Leave you to Chucky.”

As you turn to go, Jo stops you. “Wait, Y/N-”

“What?”

“I just… I’ve never felt comfortable with you two alone together, but now that you’re… doing that?”

“Jo, never in my life have I felt in danger around Kai.”

“Yeah, but one wrong,” with Jackson facing you, she makes the gesture of a siphon touch to your arm, “and you can,” she then makes one imitating someone being killed.

You take a deep breath. “Said it once, I’ll say it again. Kai’s not the man in here you should fear. That being said, you tell him you heard us, we’re all in deep shit. Including you, for having your boyfriend over when your parents aren’t home.”

“Dad loves Jack, he won’t care.”

“Believe what you want, but all I’m saying is that I snuck into Kai’s window the other night, and we both overheard Joey getting punished for just kissing a girl at school. You cuddling after what’s probably acceptable Daddy Parker hours, and us actually having sex, plus you not intervening with that? We’re all fucked.”

Her face goes blank at your words. “So you really did?”

“What’d you think we were doing? Hardcore cuddling? Nah, our first time was a loooonnngg time ago, Josette.” You pause, waiting to see if she’ll answer. Nothing; too shocked, apparently. “But yeah… don’t let your daddy find out his kids are growing up. I mean, I guess no dad likes to know their kids are doing that, but yours is particularly aggressive. I literally heard the slap to your brother’s face through the walls when he admitted he kissed some Clarissa girl he likes. I flinched. Kai didn’t. Wake up, Jo, your dad is a monster.”

And with your last word spoken, you take the snacks back upstairs, Kai close behind you.

The walk isn’t interrupted by a single voice, and it stays that way until you turn to your boyfriend. You’re on his bed while he’s just watching you.

“Come here, baby,” you make grabby hands towards him like a child, “let me cuddle you. I’m not gonna let him hurt you. Jo won’t tell; she knows I’m right.”

“She won’t change her opinion of him. She’s always going to be a suck up.” He caves and joins you on the bed, laying between your legs, head on your chest. It’s his comfort position whenever he feels scared: close to you, inhaling your scent, feeling your soft breasts on his cheek, hands intertwined. 

“Yes, but she won’t tell about us, because she can’t do that without spilling her own secrets. One of them being that Jackson doesn’t even know she’s a witch. Like, that’s insane alone.”

Kai doesn’t answer, but you feel his tension ease up slightly. 

“Hey, you need to relax a little more, okay? Take some,” you hold out your forearm for him to siphon, knowing your magic in his bloodstream usually calms him. 

“No. Can’t hurt you.”

“Baby, it never hurts.”

“Already hurt you once today.”

“That didn’t hurt, either. I loved that. And I love this.”

He doesn’t answer. 

“C’mon, Kai. You need it, and I need it. Makes me feel closer to you. Y’know, I can feel it, just a little, when my magic’s in you. It tingles my stomach. If I relish in it too much, makes me want you. Makes me wet,” you whisper, letting your breath hit his ear. “And I know you can feel it, too.”

Your words affect him, and soon, he becomes hungry for the need for your magic. The need to feel that same tingling effect, now amplified knowing you feel it, too. Slowly, he reaches a hand out, the one that’s not linked with yours, and grasps your forearm. As he focuses, the site glows orange, and the energy transfers between your bodies. You both moan lightly, and you cradle his head closer to you. 

“There you go, my angel.”

After a few moments, he breaks contact, but that’s all that’s needed to have you swirling around his bloodstream. The sensation is there, and it’s strong, but you can tell Kai is too tired to take advantage of the feeling. Sometimes, it’s so intimate it puts him to sleep. Like this time, where you can feel the heaviness in his eyes from your linked bodies. It starts to make you tired, too. 

“Take a nap, it’s okay.”

“I love you,” he mutters, almost inaudibly. You feel the words from his lips moving on your chest, though, and know what he’s said.

“I love you, too.”

[prettyoatmeal]

General König Headcanons (x reader? Read AN)

Yeah, title is self explanatory, just some random headcanons I've thought of and need to get out of my head. There are some x reader headcanons. Even though it's not the majority, I've decided to include it in the title for the reason that there are some scattered within the mix. Take this as like a 'living with König' typa thing.

Content Warnings: None

Genre: All fluff, nothing explicit

Masterlist here!

***************

I feel like with his mental health history, he'd have some special way to calm himself down in stressful situations or just all the time.

Maybe a fidget toy? Like the small dimple ones.

Not too small since his hands are pretty above average in size, but yknow what I mean.

He'd need a way to release that nervousness or excitement he's feeling.

Though, his favourite things to fiddle with would probably be your hands. Running his fingertips along your middle finger down to your palm, gently stroking the skin, slowly intertwining his fingers with yours. Definitely comforting.

Would probably be a chronic nail biter and wears gloves outside his job to actually stop himself from tearing up his nail beds. Would have probably also used the bitter nail polish originally, but he probably found it too gross (behold, the function of the product). Found the gloves work way better. Out of sight, out of mind.

Since he has quite a large build, both in height and in muscle, he has trouble finding clothes his size in a lot of store. Trousers will fit his hips but the legs would be too short, or be too loose around his hips but legs are just right. He'd need to get them tailored to make sure they fit just right.

Would realise that taking so many pieces of clothing at once or over time to the seamstress would become expensive when repeated so many times, so he'd take on sewing as a hobby.

i.e. why he has his little DIY mask situation going on.

The mask had been made from a black shirt, so he'd be big on finding ways to save material and minimise the land waste.

Sewing would give him a nice distraction from the outside world, gives him time to do what he enjoys. It's a good way to kill time.

The needles would be so small compared to his fingers so he'd definitely need his gloves on for that just in case he were to accidentally prick himself.

Very big on keeping his home clean, gives him another distraction. Sweeping and mopping, generally tidying his desk and office, polishing furniture.

He finds himself very accomplished and happy with himself knowing he can keep his home looking pretty and spotless.

Speaking about something pretty,

Would have the prettiest puppy dog eyes ever.

Beautiful downturned eyes and heavy eyelids, probably green or blue, of course they give the prettiest eyes ever to the largest, most terrifying soldier.

During the time he's deployed, he'd be required to comply with KorTac's code of conduct and keep his hair cropped. Though when he has his time off, he likes growing it out and keeping it long. He finds it soothing to brush and comb through his locks, pinning his fringe out of his face with bobby pins as he curls the rest of his hair into a bun or a ponytail.

Uses special shampoos, conditioners and oils to keep his hair strong and healthy.

That being said, he loves when his S/O or a close friend plays with his hair.

Loves head scratches and massages, especially when it's someone else's hands.

If you listen really closely, you may just hear him purr as you work your fingertips along his scalp. Could definitely fall asleep to your massages.

That being said, when he's at home, he'd be a very heavy and very quiet sleeper. Maybe a few small hums is all you would be able to hear from him.

Waking him up would be a bit of a challenge as he'd be so exhausted from returning home that he'd be knocked out for a good 12+ hours.

Won't be all for braiding flowers into his hair, but if you do it for him then he's never taking them out.

Same with friendship bracelets or necklaces or rings. He wouldn't really be one to wear jewellery of any kind, but will forever wear whatever accessory you give him without any second thought.

Gives me big nose vibes (what Doja said), tooth gap, split lip, prominent, visible scarring along his lips and nose.

Due to how his sheer size already and he's prone to standing out in a crowd regardless of what he's wearing, I feel like he'd want to keep a mask on a lot of the time.

He's already way above average in his build, the last thing he'd want to do is draw anymore attention to himself.

That being said, he probably has the best skincare routine ever.

Cleanser, toner, serum, moisturiser, then sunscreen in the morning or a different cream at night.

In comparison to his rougher hands, you bet his cheeks are soft and plush. That being said, I reckon he'd keep his face shaven, maybe a little stubble.

WEARS READING GLASSES!!!!!!

Would wear those old man glasses with the thin metal frames and wide lenses.

Grandpa energy even though he's just in his early to mid thirties.

Will occasionally ask for help to define words for him if he reads or hears one which he doesn't know the meaning for.

"Engel, what does.. coi..tus.. 'coitus' mean? and why did the audience laugh after Sheldon had said it.. I don't understand American humour."

Since he enlisted in the military at age 17, barely an adult, he'd missed out on a lot of key moments in life like graduation at high school or a university, or finding himself a lover and marrying them, getting drunk or doing drugs with your best mates for the first time. He's lost a lot of time in the military, it makes him a little sad thinking how much he's devoted his life to becoming a mercenary. So when he's with you, he spends his time enjoying doing little things with you, such as when cooking or cleaning together.

Wouldn't prefer to go out and do anything out in public, but if you ask him really nicely, he'll go out with you to a park or a communal area for a sit down or to have an ice cream or whatever you're feeling.

Plays candy crush.

On level 1496.

Very talented with his thumbs.

***************

Yeah thats all :3 hope you enjoyed

Goodnight <3

[kiss-me-cill-me]

Cup of Coffee and a VHS | Pt. 1

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader Coffee Shop!AU

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: The owner of the video rental place down the street from your newly-opened coffee shop is adorable. And awkward. An arrangement to trade free coffee for movie recommendations turns into something more when you discover you both have feelings for each other.

Warnings: None, aside from my questionable attempt at a meet-cute and copious amounts of fluff

A/N: This will be a short miniseries with four parts. The final part will contain smut, but for now it's just winter vibes and awkward fluff. Neil is adorable; I had a lot of fun writing him!

Life was going pretty good. After the grand opening of your cafe a few weeks ago, you had quickly settled into a routine that felt both comfortable and familiar. You were happy, and excited to finally be your own boss after spending so many years as a wage worker for various jobs that you weren’t really passionate about. Business had been surprisingly good, so far. Winter was always a good time for hot drinks and sweet pastries, so you couldn’t complain about the nip in the air as long as it sent people inside your little shop to seek shelter and caffeine.

The day you met Neil started out as a typical one. You got up early, as you always did, to trudge through the dark streets earlier than anyone else in this little sleepy town. Or so you thought.

Something made you turn around as you slid your key into the lock of your little coffee shop, and when you did you were met by a man in a somewhat ridiculous frilled shirt, walking down the street at three in the morning. He waved, noticing that you were looking at him, and then stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Morning,” you said politely. 

You figured that would be the end of the interaction. Instead, the man came closer to you and stopped in front of your store. Not hovering, exactly, but a bit too uncomfortably close for being alone with him in the middle of the night. You had turned back to focus on twirling your key in the lock, but now you whipped around to face him.

“Oh, sorry! Sorry…” the man chuckled. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just realized we’ve never met. I’m Neil Lewis; I own the video rental store down the street.”

He motioned back in the direction he had been walking from, and you relaxed a little. You did recognize him, now that you’d gotten a better look at his face. You had seen Neil around the little shopping district a few times, but had never spoken to him.

You told him your name and took the hand he had stretched out to you. His grip was surprisingly soft, but not flimsy. After shaking hands, you looked him up and down. He certainly was wearing an interesting outfit; almost as if he had come from a party, though you couldn’t imagine where there would be one around here at 3 a.m.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing out so early?” you asked. “Or maybe late? I can’t imagine many people rent videos at this time of night.”

Neil laughed, his breath puffing out in front of him in the freezing cold air. You noticed he wasn’t wearing a winter jacket; just a thin suit coat. And one that looked more costume-y than anything. His cheeks were red, and you had the strange urge to cup your gloved hands over them to warm him up.

“Oh! Yeah, no…” Neil mumbled. “I just stepped out for a little fresh air. We’re actually having a get-together for the premier of my shop’s commercial.”

“At… 3 a.m.?” you giggled.

“Well, the primetime slots are expensive, and… Hey,” Neil interrupted himself. “Would you mind if I stepped inside for a minute? It’s freezing out here, and I forgot my jacket.”

“Uh, sure, no problem.”

You finished unlocking the door and let Neil inside, holding the door for him to follow after you as you shook the sludge from your boots. You flipped the lights, and your little coffee shop was bathed in a warm, yellow glow.

“Thank you,” Neil said. “I’m sorry to barge in, but I really appreciate you letting me warm up.”

“Don’t mention it.” 

You weren’t sure what it was about Neil, but he somehow made the small space feel homey. Of course, you felt comfortable being in your own store, but Neil being here with you didn’t feel like as much of an intrusion as you would have thought it would be. Normally you opened and closed the shop alone. It was a little strange to have someone here with you as you hung up your jacket and peeled off your gloves, but not unwelcome.

“Would you like something warm to drink?” you offered. 

“Sure! Hey, I’ll be your first customer of the day,” Neil said cheerfully.

“It’s on the house,” you told him, stepping behind the counter. “First one’s always free; it’s how I get people addicted.”

It took Neil a second to realize you were joking, but when he did a smile spread across his face. You felt your cheeks heat up a little, and not just from being out of the cold. You quickly turned around, grabbing your apron off the hook where you kept it.

“Well in that case, I’ll have whatever you recommend,” Neil beamed. “Chef’s choice.”

You couldn’t help but let a small smile spread across your lips. Neil pulled up a stool and watched you work; the only sound in the room was the gurgle of the espresso machine and the hiss of the frother as you steamed the milk. You quickly melted into the familiar routine of making a cappuccino. The process felt almost rhythmic and relaxing.

“So, what were you doing out there with no jacket in the middle of December?” you asked, trying to make small talk as you finished pouring the drink.

“Oh, like I said, just getting some air. Taking a break,” Neil answered.

“Not enjoying the party?”

You flicked your wrist to make a little pattern in the foamed milk, making sure it pooled just right at the top of the cup. Neil ran his hands over his face, resting his elbows on the counter.

“It’s not that,” he sighed. “It’s just… I dunno; it’s complicated. My girlfriend was supposed to show up, and she didn’t, and I know I shouldn’t be disappointed because she’s never really wanted anything to do with the shop, but…”

You stopped listening, still focused on the fact that Neil had a girlfriend. You weren’t quite sure why you were disappointed to learn that. You certainly had no reason to be. But something in your stomach had lurched when he’d mentioned her, and you’d almost spilled the cappuccino and had to start over. Neil let out a heavy breath of air as you put the drink down in front of him.

“I dunno; we’re probably going to break up,” he finished, wrapping his hands around the warm ceramic.

You perked up at that, and instantly felt terrible. Neil was obviously distraught by the idea. You tried to look sympathetic as you wiped down the counter. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said. 

“It’s okay,” Neil sighed. “We just have different interests. Anyway, sorry to heap my sob story on you. You’re probably never going to want to have me back at this rate.”

That really couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Even though you didn’t want Neil to be sad, it was refreshing to meet a man who was sensitive. Sure, the whole situation was a little unexpected - you certainly hadn’t woken up this morning and thought that you would be sitting with the video rental store owner from down the street at three in the morning, commiserating over coffee. But, it had actually been a rather pleasant surprise to end up here.

“Well, it wouldn’t really be a good business move to get you addicted to the coffee and then ban you from the shop,” you joked.

Neil’s face brightened again, and he lifted the cup of steaming coffee to his lips. He smiled at you over the rim before taking a sip, and you watched as he closed his eyes to concentrate on the flavors.

“Hm… very, ah, robust,” Neil floundered.

You giggled, and stepped off to start making a drink for yourself. Neil took another sip, and you caught him grimacing slightly as he lowered the cup from his lips.

“Not a coffee drinker?” you guessed. 

“I was hoping it wasn’t that obvious…”

You laughed again, and threw a glance in Neil’s direction. He was struggling through his third sip.

“You should have said so,” you scolded playfully. “Now I’m worried you’re the one who’s not gonna want to come back.”

“Hey,” Neil said, pointing a finger at you. “I would never turn down free anything, and besides, small businesses have to stick together, right? I’ll be back; don’t you worry.”

As if to prove his point, he took a gigantic gulp, remembering too late that the drink was hot. Neil sputtered and coughed, throwing a hand up to claw at his throat. The way his eyes bugged out of his head was funnier than it should have been. 

“Neil, let me make you something you actually like next time,” you laughed, offering him a napkin.

He took it and wiped at his lips, setting the cappuccino back down on the counter. Your heart swelled again, for reasons you couldn’t fully understand.

“I’m sorry,” Neil apologized. “I’m sure you think I’m a total mess. And I mean, I guess I kind of am-”

“I don’t think that,” you interrupted. “I actually think you’re really sweet, and… maybe a little scatterbrained if you can forget to wear your coat when it’s practically zero degrees out.”

Neil blushed lightly. He looked down at his half-empty coffee cup, and you hoped you hadn’t offended him. Or made him uncomfortable. What had you been thinking - telling him you thought he was sweet? You opened your mouth to apologize, but Neil beat you to the punch.

“I really appreciate you letting me in,” he said again, smiling. “And the free drink. Sorry I’m not that into coffee…”

“You don’t have to apologize for that, Neil,” you laughed. “I’ll just have to figure out what you do like - coffee or not - so I can make it for you next time.”

“I’d like that,” he agreed. “But for now, I’ll get out of your hair. They’re probably all wondering where I wandered off to back at the shop, anyway…”

Neil got up to leave, and you walked around the counter to see him out. As he opened the door, you called for him to wait, and rushed over to your coat rack.

“I know it’s a short walk,” you said, holding out your scarf to him. “But just so you’re a little warmer.”

Neil let you wrap the scarf around him. It clashed horribly with his slightly silly getup, but it would do the job of keeping him warm.

“Are you sure?” Neil asked, touching the scarf.

You nodded.

“Think of it as collateral,” you told him. “You promised you’d come back, right? Now you have an excuse.”

The barest hint of a blush crossed Neil’s cheeks again, and he buried his face a little deeper in the scarf. The way his bangs brushed against his eyelashes nearly made your heart melt.

“Thank you,” Neil said. “I guess I’ll… see you soon?”

“See you soon,” you agreed.

And with that, Neil left the little cafe with a cold gust of air from outside. You bit your thumb, giddy suddenly and not sure what to do about it. Tingling with excitement, you turned around and set about getting ready for the day.

You left Neil’s coffee on the counter until it was practically time to open, not wanting to clear away the memory of him being there.

Read Pt. 2 HERE!

[ghostaholics]

ᴍɪsᴄᴏɴᴅᴜᴄᴛ

SUMMARY: Ghost doesn't tolerate bad behavior. PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!Reader (drabble) WARNING(S): illicit relationship & power imbalance; dom/sub vibes (brattiness); this is not that fleshed out but I think their background is enemies-to-lovers; fingering; ruined orgasm, but he makes it all better, sorta; oral sex (receiving) A/N: this is OOC but I still wrote it anyway because my mind would just not shut the fuck up W/C: 2.1k

HE HOLDS YOU THE SAME WAY HE HOLDS HIS GUN – with all the confidence that he can take you apart and put you back together again like it’s muscle memory.

It's not pride. It's just fact.

He wants to know the inner-workings of your brain. He wants to know what makes you tick. Hell, all he wants to know is what it's like to be inside of you.

He’s still wearing his clothes – jacket, trousers, and boots – everything down to the signature gloves and the fabric balaclava that masks his face.

You, in turn, have nothing. It’s a very unfair playing field – one that you hope to level soon. But Ghost has always been mountains above you even before the current circumstances; you've never turned down a challenge, though.

"Maybe..." he says, musingly as he stands at the foot of his bed, "I won't let you come."

It's a taunt, one that you happily indulge.

You wet your lips in anticipation. You're excited – hungry for it. Back and forth. Pressing his buttons, and in return, learning your place under his direction.  A provocation to take up with the same kind of resolve you'd had when the rules said that you couldn't do it because he's your superior, your Lieutenant – it swells inside you, profuse – fills you up to the brim.

(Illicit. A violation of boundaries. Conflict of interest.)

But look at where you are now. You’ve managed to fucking do it.

It's so overwhelming that you can't possibly stop the next words that you fire back, like loaded bullets, full metal jackets shooting off at the mouth: "Maybe you just can't make me."

Ghost seizes you by the throat – hand so big it engulfs your lower jaw too; sick with power, the thought infects him like an all-consuming disease: he could crush your windpipe if he wanted to. It’d be so easy. Apply pressure. But only enough to provoke a sharp intake of breath. (You can take it.) "God, the fuckin' mouth on you," he growls.

Your voice, breathless under the force of his hand and far too flirtatious for your own good: "I can show you what else it can do." A shameless smile stretches over your mouth as if he doesn't have a noose around your neck – a palm instead of rope but equally as unforgiving.

His eyes burn holes into you. They smolder. And his temper? He's fuming. Underneath the surface, but raging all the same, make no mistake. There are a lot of things he’d like to do to you that would wipe the grin clean off your face and scrub the insubordination from your brain. "Think I’d rather take an apology, first."

"Oh," you lament around a pout. "You'll be waiting a long time before you hear one out of me."

The answer is an act of arson; it reeks of gasoline. Octane. It’s a fuel that you douse onto ever-growing flames. Scorched earth policy, like you want to sit back and watch the world go up in smoke, embers and all.

"Trust me,” he says, shucking his gloves off –doesn't want to get them dirty with your recklessness. (At least he can wash this sin from his hands later.) “You’ll feel sorry by the time I’m through with you.”

So how far can you push him? Turns out, a lot. More than you’d anticipated, actually, because earlier:

“Don’t test me.” “Why?” “You won’t want to find out.” “I think I do.”

His fingers brutally stuff your cunt, and your walls eagerly accommodate the stretch around the width of him. An uninhibited moan wretches itself from your throat at the intrusion. You clamp onto his arm instinctively for purchase. He's got you filled to capacity.

"You're so tight," he murmurs, feeling around for a bit, searching for – there it is. He hits that little spongy spot inside, and he knows he's got you. His digits slide through your hot core in that come-hither motion, and he's enticed by the way your body convulses at his discovery. He's addicted to the sensation, already knows he'll never be able to find anything else that gives him a high as good as this – that he'll never be able to quit you. Perfect, so perfect. The craving is bad, like he's been stabbed full of needles and shot up with something that he knows will have him hooked forever.

You rut down, hips canting as you fuck yourself down on his fingers, meeting him thrust-for-thrust because you're just that needy for it.

He collects every moan like it’s payment, and after the defiance you've been throwing his way, it's the least that you owe him.

And—

He doesn't need to do it – you're already soaked. But he fucking spits on your pussy anyway. Yeah, that’s good. So bloody fucking good. He watches it mix with your arousal. Slickness, everywhere. It leaks out of your puffy folds, juices running down to the juncture of his wrist where his tattoos start – floods the gaps in between the ink of his sleeve. He's aching for more.

Filthy. Filthy. Filthy.

You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch the sight. It's lewd. You nearly collapse on the spot.

But still, you capture his wrist, nails sinking into his flesh as he continues to pump in and out of your sopping cunt. You’re so wet, it’s almost embarrassing. You don’t want him to stop. You have to keep him there forever. "I'm close," you croak out. "I'm—"

"Gonna come now?"

A familiar wave of heat starts to crest within you. "God, yes." It surges, rises hard and rises fast. The feeling is blinding.

"That's it," he says around a low rumble of approval. "Give it to me."

It's the final tipping point to send you over the edge – no return. Euphoria is within sights. You're flying to a climax and it's right there, so close you can almost touch it and—

He snatches his fingers away.

You come around nothing.

You're yanked back into a cold and disappointing reality. It's disorienting. The heat fizzles out so fast it’s like a bonfire during a downpour.

That ecstasy that had been building up passes through you like a phantom. It's just gone. Goddamn it.

"No, no, no! Fuck, Ghost! What the fuck?" 

You didn't finish. You didn't get to the end, because he took it from you and snuffed the life out of it with no remorse.

It's what he does best.

You're drowning in your own bitter rage, reeling between riptides of ire and violence. The feeling is highwater. You want to commit atrocities against this man.

He draws his fingers into his mouth, mask pulled up for a fraction before he sucks, eyes lazily flicking over to you – you’re the picture of red-hot anger and burning insolence. Deep satisfaction settles in his bones. He lowers the balaclava back to where it was. "You taste sweet," he comments, almost absentmindedly. "Shame the personality doesn't match."

You're seething, a temper bristling with unfathomable resentment. "You're so fucking mean."

"Hate me all you want, love. We both know whose cock you get wet for at the end of the day. You wouldn't be here otherwise."

He calls you the term of endearment as if he cares. You aren't stupid. That’s not what this is. His tone is laced with derision.

"Unbelievable," you mutter. "I'm gonna have you court-martialed for being such an asshole."

He chuckles darkly. "Let's try this again."

The first day he met you: Your file, in big bold letters with an extensive skillset, and one section that stood out to him: INTERROGATION. Everything redacted. "How good are you?"– he'd asked. "That's classified, sir. But all you really need to be worried about is that I know how to make people talk." Smartass.

"I wanna... oh, God. Let me come. I want it, need it," you moan. He's been continuing his onslaught for too long, and you can't handle it.

"Where'd all the attitude go, huh, love?"

The whimper is high in your throat. "Please."

"The begging's a nice touch. Unfortunately, it won't save you now. I’m already fresh out of fucks.”

“Simon—”

He wouldn’t call you a whore, but that’s exactly what you sound like.

Your composure snaps.

"I'm sorry," you gasp, wrecked.

Finally.

His voice is devastating – a sawtoothed-edge that threatens to tear you apart. "Done playing games?"

It sends cracks throughout your fortitude – fractures spidering along your backbone. It’s a thousand splintered fragments.

Something in you shatters. It feels a lot like your self-respect.

“Yes, sir.”

This is rock bottom, a callous reminder of where the two of you stand. You despise using his title now more than you do out on the field.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “thought so.”

He kneels in between your legs, has your thighs wrenched open between the sheer size of his bulky shoulders. Simon lifts the edge of his mask up to settle onto the bridge of his nose, just to expose the bottom half of his face – sharp contour, a determined set to his stubbled jaw. It’s not all of him, but it’s enough. Simon’s mouth is on you in no time flat. It's not something he'll admit, but he’s starving for this. Ravenous – a carnal appetite. He wants his fill. Lust gnaws at his gut; it bites away at his resolve.

"Tastes so good," he grunts, sending vibrations rocking through you. His tongue laves over your clit, your entrance, lapping it up, taking what he wants. "Anyone ever tell you how much of a brat you are?" he asks, voice like gravel.

"Christ, shut up," you mumble pathetically.

Simon sinks his teeth into the side of your thigh to show his displeasure before turning his attention back to the task at hand. He's amused at the way you curse at him for being a bastard. More passes at your clit that make you tremor under him – he could get drunk off of this. It sends a nice buzz to his head better than his favorite whiskey.

His tongue is wet and soft, dipping between your engorged folds and making the nastiest noises. He's licking his way into your cunt. "Fuck." Again and again, using his mouth to rip those pretty sounds from you – the moans and everything, he'll drink it all up.

He adds his fingers back to the foray, knuckle deep. A high-pitched whine leaves you, cresting into another low moan as you adjust around the familiar feeling of the heavy and thick drag of his fingers through you; it almost makes him come, untouched.

"Ah, Simon," you whimper.

He lifts his head, chin drenched. There's a glossy sheen to his lips. Thoroughly wet. So much. You can feel it pooling under your ass, too. The sheets are saturated. That's all you. "I'll let you come this time," he rasps, sounding just as bad as you.

And at that, you don't care. Nothing else matters anymore.

You chase the high, white-hot pleasure mounting to a fever pitch. It strikes somewhere deep inside you. Blinding ecstasy swallows you whole. It’s cataclysmic. Bliss surges through your veins. “Oh, fuck me,” you choke out, arching off the bed. Your body's wracked with spasms. It's the hardest you've ever come in your life, and you hate that he's the reason for it.

Beginning and end — everything in between, and all at once — he's there. Simon continues, even after you ride out the rest of the orgasm, working you through the entirety of it – a mercy that he grants you for your earlier penitence until you're spent and oversensitive. It's charity. He's just that generous.

"Fuckin'... just drippin' all over my fingers," he growls, "can't wait to see what kind of a mess you make on my cock. I'm gonna ruin you."

"Yeah?" you say, in between shuddering breaths.

"Mm."

You've gotten what you wanted from him already, so a vain attempt to save face: "Do your worst."

The switch is instant. His eyes flash to yours in warning. "How many times am I gonna have to prove you wrong today?"

That same smile again, the one that spells trouble –  it's what started this in the first place. “However long it takes until you make me cry, maybe.”

[projectbluearcadia]

Well-Deserved Rest

NSFW Sub!Lucifer x GN!MC Spice Rating - 3/4 ; BDSM Rating 0/3

[ Premise - Lucifer is all stressed out again, and you’ve decided that you’re going to make him unwind by taking control and spoiling the shit out of him. ]

Lucifer makes me sub... but sub!Luci makes me want to dom his ass.

CW: None, really? One spank, Lucifer receiving.

Wordcount - 2546

smutty notes (consult if you haven’t read my smut before.)

“Lucifer?” you say in shock as you watch the oldest brother, not even wearing his waistcoat or his gloves in the kitchen. His sleeves are hiked up to his elbows, his crimson tie missing. He gazes at you for a long moment, just as he reaches the coffee grinder, and the stress in his eyes momentarily seems to ease before he looks away. 

“Morning,” he mumbles, filling the grinder with fresh beans, and the machine hums quietly before the sound of coffee being ground fills the air, along with its wonderful scent. 

“Lucifer… did you even sleep?” you ask, and at first, you think he’s ignoring you, and on the off-chance that he couldn’t hear you over the grinder, you decide to wait until it’s finished. “Lucifer. Did you sleep?” 

“What? Oh… I think I did?” He takes the grounds out, pushing them into a neat little puck before packing it into the espresso machine. 

“You think?” you ask. “If you’re not going to sleep next to me, the least you can do is actually take more than a power nap. Seriously; this is getting ridiculous. You should not be getting up in the middle of the night to do work, much less pulling all-nighters.” 

“I’ve gone for more than a month with less than an hour of sleep; I’ll be fine,” he mumbles, taking his coffee cup out from underneath the machine. “I don’t need you to mind me like I’m some kind of child. I know where my limits are.” 

You fold your arms at him, half-tempted to actually yell at him with frustration. Though you’ve been getting him to fix some of his unhealthy habits, R.A.D. loves throwing a wrench in the works, whether it’s Diavolo, the students, his brothers, or diplomatic meetings. 

“Hey!” you protest as Lucifer starts walking off with his coffee, and he pauses to look back at you. 

“I have to go back to work, MC. Later?” Meaning, I will not discuss this with you now, and I’m going whether you want me to or not; be content with the fact that you’ve seen me at all today. 

“You’d better come to bed tonight, Lucifer,” you growl at him, and he softly chuckles. “By 11 P.M. If you’re not there, I’m going to drag you there by force.” 

“Yes, honey, I’ll come to bed. So greedy…” His voice trails off as he travels out of earshot, and you grumble a retort. I’m going to make sure you have a proper rest, you son of a bitch. 

—

You’re sitting in front of Lucifer’s fireplace, reading one of Satan’s book recommendations when you hear Lucifer knock on the frame of his bedroom door..

“Here I am, as requested,” Lucifer says, and you hear his leather oxfords briefly clack against the wooden floor before muffling against his rug. Then he’s behind your chair, pulling his hands over yours, leaning his head down to kiss your temple. “Come on… don’t be mad at me,” he whispers sweetly, rubbing your arms up and down. “I know it’s been a lonely week, so let’s go out for some quality time on Sunday.” Lucifer kisses your cheek, teasing your bookmark from your fingers and closing your book on it. “Maybe we can go shopping… or maybe we can see a show… go to your favorite restaurant for dinner…” He drags his lips against the back of your ear, his voice lowering by an octave. “Have lots of sex when we get home… how does that sound, darling?” 

“I’m still mad at you,” you reply, and he pauses, his mouth opening to try to butter you up some more, but you don’t let him. “If you want me to stop being mad, I get to torture you when I fuck you tonight.” It’s not an unreasonable request per se, considering you’ve topped him before. It’s just not one that Lucifer expects you to ask so bluntly, which is why he doesn’t answer you for several uncomfortably long moments. 

“Do whatever you please with me then,” he responds, finally, and you get up to turn and look back at him. Surprisingly enough, he looks a little nervous, and you barely stop yourself from launching at him in a fit of cuteness aggression. “Am I allowed to touch you this time…?” God, fuck, stop me from ripping his clothes off; I want to tease him. 

“Yes,” you reply after a moment, “but you’re not allowed to switch to being dominant halfway through doing that. That means not taking advantage of your demon strength.” 

“I agreed to this; I want to make it up to you,” Lucifer concedes softly, loosely pulling his arms around your lower back. “I’ll be your stress toy tonight, okay?” Oh, honey, that is far from what I have planned.

“That’s my good little demon,” you murmur, rubbing his head slowly, and a faint blush scatters over his cheeks at the praise. He opens his mouth to ask a question, but you cut him off as you push your lips against his, a soft groan leaving his mouth as you pull his hair and dominate his tongue. His fingers stray under your shirt, caressing the skin of your back with deliberate slowness as if he needed to savor every second he was allowed to touch you. 

“Mn,” he grunts into your mouth as you tease your fingers up his inner thigh, teasing him until his hands stiffen, struggling to restrain himself from picking you up on his waist and carrying you to bed. “Ugh,” he gasps, breaking from your lips as you rub the palm of your hand against his rapidly growing bulge. “MC…”

“Remember what I told you, Lucifer,” you murmur against his lips before you shut him up, lightly tucking your fingertips underneath his shirt, stroking up his navel, into the crevice of his abdominal muscles. He relaxes a little with this little motion of yours, only to make a startled sound into your mouth as a high-pitched zip! hits the air. “You’re already like this?” you murmur against his ear as you run your thumb over his cock, straining to escape his underwear. You can feel Lucifer’s skin running hotter as you do so, his breath getting shorter. “Good boy.” 

“Hah…” Lucifer gasps softly before he mumbles a soft protest. 

“Oh? Then why’d your little soldier respond so eagerly, hm?” you tease, and a faint blush scatters over his cheeks as you take your time freeing his cock from its clothy confinement. It even starts to drip little white tears of gratitude. 

“...because evidently, I liked it,” he admits with a bit of an embarrassed chuckle. 

“You’re adorable,” you murmur sweetly, wrapping your hand around his member and half debating whether or not you wanted to wipe that calm look off his face by pushing him onto the bed and sucking on it. No, no, MC, work up to that. Make him orgasm in progressively more exciting ways. 

“Right back at you,” Lucifer replies, breathless as he watches you intently, his hands rubbing your waist up and down, up and down. “And incredibly fucking tempting.” He squeezes your hips, a naughty grunt slipping past his teeth when you give his wanting tip some special attention.

“But you’re very good at resisting, aren’t you, darling? You’re doing so well, Lucifer.” 

“Shit,” he groans before you kiss him again, stroking him much harder, and an almost needy moan sinks into your mouth. Ugh, I want to make him cum his brains out. “Mnn… mmm…” You can feel how close he is just by his kiss as he stops all forms of playful resistance, his lip twitching faintly as he tries not to close his mouth. His erection is just as antsy, right about ready to burst. 

“Go on, sweetheart. Cum for me,” you whisper against his lips, panting, before you swallow his soft, reluctant moan as he coats your hand in his sticky, off-white semen. “See? You’re a good boy, Lucifer.” You ruffle your clean hand into his hair, and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes and blushing badly at his own actions. His tired face already looks relaxed. “Come on. Let’s go sit on the bed.” 

And, as if to get back at you for how embarrassed he was, he unexpectedly squeezes your ass—hard—in both hands. You almost yelp, and you smack his ass in return, making him chuckle as you shake your hand with a wince. 

He does not protest as you push him onto the edge of the bed, his lips parted as if waiting for another kiss, and you decide to grant his wish. He deserves some thorough spoiling for all that work he does. 

“Take your shirt off for me,” you order, and as he does so after a moment of hesitation, you finally pay some attention to your white-slicked hand. Without breaking eye contact with Lucifer, you lick his semen off, watching him grip his covers while his demon form starts to slip out at the undoubtedly crude sight. 

“MC, please… if you don’t want me to attack you right now, tie me up,” he grinds out as you suck two fingers slowly before letting them pop out of your mouth. “I can’t restrain myself for this.” 

“Yes, you can,” you soothe, laying your hands on his thighs. “But if you want me to get the rope out from under the bed, that’s a different story…” You lean towards his ear to bite the shell. “Your cum is very thick and rich, by the way.” 

You can tell, as you lean back, that he’s so close to snapping and railing you into oblivion that he’s nearly glaring at you with lust. If your sex wasn’t dripping before, it is now. 

“I don’t want you to,” he mumbles, slowly relaxing his muscles, one by one. “But I do want to be… obedient for you.” He has to grind out the last words, his face flushing a little again as he averts his eyes from yours. 

“But you’re already being so obedient,” you reply gently, kissing his neck. “Being my perfect demon. Don’t be so hard on yourself, honey. You’re doing just fine.” A rewarding little groan slips out of his throat, and you kiss down to his collarbone, offering him a gentle nibble. 

“MC, I really can’t do this,” he rasps out as you rub your fingers up and down his chest, going around to his back to rub firm little circles on his lower back. You wordlessly and gently hush him with the finger of your other hand as he tries to continue before you lower your head again to kiss near one of his nipples. You desperately wish in that second that he liked it when you toyed with them, but alas… 

Despite the fact that Lucifer fully shifts into his demon form as he loses patience, he doesn’t act on it as you work your way down his midsection, down his pretty abs. He is, however, much stiffer than you’d prefer, so you make sure to shower him with some extra praise for being so good for you. 

“That’s right, Lucifer. You’re doing it all by yourself.” You kiss his v-line. “I’m proud of you.” 

“Dammit, don’t do that to me,” he moans, covering his mouth. “Please don’t do what I hope you’re doing.” You almost laugh at him for purposely denying himself pleasure; there would be none of that tonight. 

“Why not?” you purr, your cheek practically rubbing his swollen, rosy-headed penis. His wings cutely flutter at the contact. “I want seconds… while it’s still hot.” You kiss his base, and one of his hands tangles into your hair, the veins on his forearm sharply standing out as he stopped himself from pulling. His expression screeches at you, screeches, that he wants to fill your mouth up so much that his seed will flow down your chin. Dear God, why did you make this sexy creature and piss him off? I mean, more for me, but still. “Can you do that for me, you absurdly sexy bastard?” Didn’t mean to add that last part, but I guess he liked that.

“Fuck me,” he groans obscenely as you kiss his tip, looking up at him. 

“Your moans are doing an excellent job of making me ready to fuck you, darling,” you rumble before you hornily close your lips around the tip of his cock, giving it a nice, long suck before you start taking more of it. More, until he’s hitting the back of your throat, and you moan softly onto him, restraining yourself from distracting yourself by rubbing your throbbing sex. Your body is already screaming at you, but you want to make sure he’s nice and warmed up for the main event. 

Every movement of your tongue, every bob, every lick, every hollowing your cheeks makes Lucifer grunt, moan, and even whimper a little. Louder and filthier for you, as if he’s trying to beg for you to hurry up and fuck him without saying it. 

“Do you… like that, MC?” He smiles down at you, his cheeks still pink as he grips your hair harder at the root. “Do… you like my cock? How it feels…ugh… inside your mouth?” He just wants praise now. That’s really cute.

“Mmm hm,” you hum onto him, sucking him harder and making his breath catch. You moan onto him as you fondle his balls with one hand, making him tighten his hold on your hair. He can’t stop himself from bobbing your head a few times right before he splatters the inside of your mouth, his wings spreading wide and trembling. 

“MC!” he gasps out, panting as he watches you slowly let go of him, licking a streak off his length that escaped your mouth. When you swallow everything, he flops backwards into the bed, his eyes almost rolling back into his head before they refocus on the ceiling. For once, his thoughts are written on his face—that felt so fucking good; I needed this so bad… 

“I do love your cock, Lucifer,” you finally say, impatiently shedding your clothes, practically throwing them to the floor with annoyance. “It’s absolutely perfect for filling me the way I want it. And it feels amazing when it’s inside me.”

Lucifer ogles your body as you crawl on top of him, smiling before you kiss him again. He doesn’t seem to mind tasting himself as he hugs you close to him gratefully, almost crying as you cup his cheek. “You had a hard week, honey… You did such an excellent job like you always do, and I love you even when I don’t see you; you’re breathtaking from those horns down to your sweet personality…” You litter his neck with kisses. “Just let me take care of you tonight, okay?”

“Yes, please,” he groans before he goes right back to kissing you, his blissful tears spilling from the corners of his eyes, his hands rubbing your back. “Please praise me more… reward me. Make love to me; I need you.” 

“Finally asking for what you want,” you purr as you get ready to lower yourself onto him, kissing the corner of his lips. “Good boy.”

[talesofesther]

find the beauty

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: Wednesday is infatuated with you; in a snowy walk, she might just do something about it.

Requested by multiple anons for my Christmas Special event.

A/N: Soft Wednesday because I said so. Changed the requests just a tiny bit but hope y'all like it. Prompts used: 3, 8, 11, 13, 14, 19. So if you requested any of these together, this is for you. <3

Masterlist

You were different than most people. When Wednesday said she liked thunderstorms, she would mostly receive weird looks and questions about why she'd like something so gloomy; but you saw beauty in the way the lightning painted the skies and the rain fell heavily against the windows. You told Wednesday you enjoyed the cold weather on your skin, and how there was poetry to wearing black in someone's honor.

Wednesday didn't do feelings. But she felt a lot for you.

Her infatuation with you was something undeniable, it made her think of her father making heart eyes for her mother, and sometimes it made her sick to her stomach. But the thought of living without this feeling was simply unappealing.

Maybe that's why, when the day started with snow falling nonstop from the sky, she asked you out. She didn't use the word date, but it had been on her mind when she put on her trenchcoat and walked to your dorm.

The school already had a thin layer of snow on its grounds; the trees were bare of leaves and the once stone path now created footprints over a white blanket as you walked by the garden.

"The snow is so pretty isn't it?" You asked mindlessly, turning your palm up and watching as snowflakes slowly collected on top of your glove.

"It's pleasant, yes," Wednesday answered, her gaze moving from you to the looming trees around her that had grown enough to form an archway for you to walk under.

"Oh hey, look," you jogged a little ways further, stopping under a lower branch that had something attached to it. Standing on your tiptoes, you shook off the snow that covered the little green leaves; "it's a small mistletoe."

Wednesday knew of the silly tradition, though it didn't stop her from walking the rest of the way to you. She came to a stop in front of you, her personal space mingling with yours.

"I wonder who put this here." You hummed, only then glancing down from the mistletoe hanging above you to notice Wednesday standing before you.

There was something about seeing her with an immensity of white around her that was enchanting; with her dark eyes and raven hair, she looked like a painting, like something out of a dream of yours.

And yet here she was, her eyes traveling up to yours in a tender blink, features as soft as you've ever seen them; her hair loose for once, falling in waves over her shoulders as her hands rested on the pockets of her coat; her lips with the ghost of a tilt to them that if you didn't know better, you'd say you were her dream as much as she's yours.

You glanced away from Wednesday then, eyes downcast as your cheeks turned pink under her gaze.

"Your cheeks are flushed, why?" There was a soft furrow to Wednesday's eyebrows as she asked, she could see tiny snowflakes clinging to your hair and even smaller ones settling on your eyelashes; they touched you with delicacy, all intimate and tender as some of the flakes melted on you. For some reason, Wednesday was envious of their privilege.

"It's uh- just the wind," you uttered the first little lie that came to your mind, because saying that she was the reason for the color on your cheeks seemed too much.

Wednesday closed her gloved hands into fists as she took in a breath. The air came out past her lips in a white puff, and she waited until it faded completely before taking a bold step closer.

There was a snowflake resting on your bottom lip, so small you didn't even feel it, but it was taunting Wednesday. If she tilted her head forward just a bit, her nose would be brushing yours. And why was that the only thing she could think about?

Your eyes finally found Wednesday's again when she stepped closer to you, so close you could see every speck of color on her lips, every little freckle over her nose and cheeks. Would she be mad if you leaned in just a tad further?

There was no telling who kissed who first, you just ended up meeting in the middle.

Wednesday kissed the snowflake away from your lips, claiming them as her own for good. One of her hands came up to your cheek, feeling your warmth underneath her palm as her lips moved against yours.

If a machine was to check your heartbeat right now, it would go crazy as the lines came in shambles. There was something addictive about Wednesday, about the way her hair touched your eyelashes when she turned or how she pulled away oh so slowly and opened her eyes even slower; that got you all warm and fuzzy even on the coldest day of the year.

You decided it was a privilege, to see her in this new light.

Wednesday's gaze was darting all over your face after she pulled away, casting over every little emotion on you.

She smiled something shy, all soft and intimate, taking a shot at vulnerability; a small tilt of her lips that barely showed her dimples.

You leaned in to touch your forehead with hers for a moment. It felt a lot like a promise.

And maybe that's why she took your hand on the way back to school.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @gayestfeels26 @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @witchyhs-blog @tobylikesfire @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest

[koolades-world]

Obey me! brothers jewelry headcanons

Lucifer

Definitely a plain kind of man, not much

Since he previous wore the ring of light, he might get a ring or two to replace it and wear under his gloves

He owns some jewelry for special occasions like some nice horn jewelry and necklaces. Several of these pieces were gifts from Diavolo

Has a whole set of horn jewelry for all his brothers but doesn’t let them have it because he’s afraid they’re going to do something to it. It’s a custom made set so if one gets lost it will be hard to replace

If Mc made him any, he wouldn't wear it because he would be afraid of losing it or getting it stolen, so it sits in a special charmed drawer in his desk

Mammon

100% the most dripped out

Lots of rings, lots of bracelets, lots of neckalces. He probably also has anklets, toe rings, and other face piercings too. Most likely to have a nipple piercing lol

Seems like the kind to have a million random bracelets on and pass them off to someone they trust whenever they can’t wear them (ie mc, and my middle school bestie and I) about to get arms dirty? about to throw hands? need to braid hair? hold my bracelets

I like to think he had a little jewelry tree, a divider hang on the back of a door, and a ring holder for all of his things, but even then it’s overfilled (lol I’m projecting again)

Would take jewelry Mc made him everywhere. If he couldn’t wear it, it would be in his pocket or in a bag, secured. Would treat it nicer than his expensive jewelry

Levi

He probably has the same jewelry characters he likes has or is at least inspired by them

Everything is probably tangled together in a giant mess in a little jewelry box Mc gave him and complains every time he wants one specific piece and can’t get it untangled

All his nicer pieces were gifts because if it were up to him, he would have bought something more useful to him

Another one who would take Mc made jewelry literally everywhere since he’s so touched anyone would care enough to give him a handmade gift, probably would never take it off and get super heartbroken if he broke it by accident

Satan

He’s giving rings, lots of rings. He’s also giving chokers because Lucifer once said he hated them

He seems like the type to really like lockets since they’re typically romantic or for familiar bonds so he got one for Mc with a picture of either them together in it or a cat

Would definitely use a bracelet or necklace as a bookmark. You can’t tell me he also doesn’t make his own. Originally they were just to make bookmarks but after Asmo suggested he do more with his talent, he got hooked

The type to always quietly highlight any jewelry given to him by Mc, like wearing shortsleeves to showcase a bracelet or wearing more subtle colors to make it pop more

Asmo

If he doesn’t have a jewelry collection I’m eating my running shoes

He has the most ear piercings, basically the most you can have, with Mammon in close second

He has so much there’s some he’s never worn. They are gifts, they are things he’s picked out, and things he’s not quite sure how he got

His outfits are always coordinated so he has something for everything

If Mc gave him jewelry, he would only wear it if it matched his outfit but would keep it somewhere safe

Beel

He probably has a couple pieces of really nice and durable jewelry but that’s it

He’s probably afraid of breaking or losing it, so he lets Belphie hold onto it

Probably just one set of ear piercings to wear studs

His favorite piece is the gold chain in his human world outfit. I hc Mc said they liked it on him once so he always wear it with his human outfit

Would always wear jewelry made by Mc but would definitely break it and need a replacement

Belphie

Another one that doesn’t wear a lot of jewelry. Maybe has one necklace he likes but never remembers to wear it

I kinda feel like he would have a nose piercing, like a simple stud. Although him with a septum piercing is also tempting…

Prefers gold to silver even though silver goes better with his hair

If Mc gave him jewelry, he would always wear it. Mc would think it's because he was being sweet, but its half that, half he never remembers to take it off. Probably lasts a while since he doesn't do too much

[rorywritesjunk]

Yours are the sweetest eyes I've ever seen

You decide to ask Buggy an important question but he has major doubts.

Rating: PG-13 just because of mentions of sex but nothing graphic at all. Warning: Insecure Buggy, mentions of an ex who was not nice to Buggy (no physical abuse, one mention of possible verbal abuse). There's a misunderstanding, there's tears, Buggy just isn't sure of anything. Mild angst. Lots of 'I love you's. A/N: A request from a lovely Anon wanting Buggy to be the one getting proposed to! This was sweet to write and I managed to get it done in one night. It just happened. And it was good to get it out of my system. Title comes from "Your Song" by Elton John.

All you said to Buggy at breakfast that morning was for him to dress nice and meet you on the docks after the work was done for the day. It didn’t ring suspicious to him at all, you had been talking about having a date night for a while, one away from the crew, the ship, just the two of you at some little restaurant or cafe, whatever it was you were in the mood for. Lately it had been crepes but to Buggy, that was more breakfast food than dinner. 

So he did as you requested, even washing his face to refresh his makeup, making sure the bones on his forehead were perfect, the blue around his eyes the right amount of sparkly, and even made sure the red around his mouth was applied a little thicker than usual so he could cover your face with it when he kissed you (one of his favorite things to do). He made sure his clothes looked their best (a little grubby, maybe even a little bit of blood on the front) and perched his hat on his head, his long blue hair threaded to the top and coming off the sides; you said it reminded you of waterfalls when you first saw his hair that way and he brushed off his face turning red by insisting the sun was in his eyes, even though it was evening time inside a dimly lit pub.

You’d been together for three years now, the anniversary having been just two weeks ago. The two of you celebrated with a bottle of rum, no clothes, and the two of you spent the entire day together in the captain’s quarters. Buggy wondered if this was a followup to that, but you didn’t say anything about the anniversary this morning, just that you wanted to take him out. And he was fine with it, it was a nice break from the same ol’ food on the ship. 

He only waited a few minutes down at the docks when you showed up. To you, dressing nice was your performance clothing. Loose fitting black and gray striped pants, your black ankle high boots, and a snug fitting black vest with a dark red liner. Honestly, it was Buggy’s favorite thing to see you wear and his favorite thing to take off you.

“So, where are we going?” He asked as you walked up to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You got me all dressed up and nowhere to go, love.”

“I’m taking you out, don’t fuss.” You told him as you took his gloved hand in yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as you led him to the streets. He looked around as he followed you, taking in the sights, sounds, and smell of the town. It was like any port town, really, with the fishy smells, the movement of people, and the sounds of chattering all around. He caught a whiff of a particularly funky smell and he made a face, frowning at you as you walked.

“Where are you taking me?” He asked as you made a sudden turn down an alley. “Hope it smells better than where we just were.”

“It will.” You squeezed his hand to reassure him, glancing back with a grin. He trusted you, sure, but the alley was narrow, there were some doors, garbage, stored goods, nothing that really said romantic but at the same time, the two of you didn’t really fit the definition.

Hell, the two of you met at a bar years ago. He was drinking away his shattered heart while you were showing off your ability to swallow swords in front of a crowd, snatching handfuls of berry from the spectators and stuffing it down your shirt for safe keeping. He caught your eye right as you opened your mouth and tilted your head back, allowing the sword to safely slip down your throat. You gave him a wink as the hilt touched your lips.

He was in love and forgot all about whats-their-name.

And Buggy moves fast. He invited you to join his band of freaks while you were between his legs in his room, demonstrating your swallowing abilities in person. You called it an audition while he called it a first date. 

That was three and a half years ago. It took him six months to actually get the courage to ask if you wanted to be with him as a couple, no other hookups or things like that. Just you and him, because well, Buggy sometimes didn’t really know how to express his feelings and he didn’t know if he should just say he was in love with you or if that would come off too strong? Would it scare you off the ship and out of his life? And he got nervous when you didn’t respond, but he also chose the worst time to ask as you were practicing your technique with two swords this time, but your eyes were comically large as you stared at him in shock. 

You couldn’t really speak (Buggy thought from disgust but again, swords down your throat) so you just took his hand and gave it a squeeze to reassure him.

It felt like forever until you finally stopped in front of a door at the end of the alley. Buggy looked around, wondering where you two were, when you looked at him with a big smile and opened the door for him, gesturing for him to go in. He did so, straightening his hat before stepping over the threshold. 

The smell of something savory hit him almost immediately before the sounds of people cooking came next. The place was small, only a few tables, one of which was occupied already with a couple who were staring lovingly into each other’s eyes over candlelight. It was a little much. You led him to a table and pulled his chair out for him, still smiling as he sat down. This wasn’t really what he expected. White, wrought iron tables with doilies decorating the top. The chairs matched with pink seat cushions tied to them. Pink and white candles were lit in the middle, casting a warm glow at those seated at the table. Buggy looked over at you while a server came over with menus and water glasses for the two of you. 

“How… did you hear of this place?” He asked as he looked around while you took your seat. “It’s an interesting… choice.”

“Heard about it by chance.” You told him as you opened the menu. “Been craving crepes and they have good ones apparently.”

“That’s breakfast food.” He pointed out as he glanced over the menu. He’d just get something savory but have something sweet to take back to the ship. “You’re weird.”

“I love you too, Buggy.” You chuckled as you set the menu down, smiling at him from across the table. He tried to ignore you, hiding his blushing face behind the menu. Even after three years, he still wasn’t used to those words being directed at him. He said it back to you, of course, and showed you in different ways how he loved you, but you would just say it whenever you felt like it, catching him off guard, sometimes making him stumble over his words, but you meant it when you said it. 

When he finally set the menu down, you reached across the table for his hand. He let you hold it without much thought, your thumb brushing over his knuckles softly while your other hand reached into your pocket. Your smile looked a bit nervous now and he wondered what you were doing; your hand came up to the table with a small black box in it and he wondered what the hell was going on.

And then the box was opened, revealing a gold ring. Buggy leaned forward to get a better look at it, squinting in the candlelight. It was gold, he could see that, and the design almost looked like the blade of a sword with a stone where the hilt would be. He looked between you and the box, a frown appearing on his face as you took the ring out of the box and held it out to him.

“What the hell is that?” He asked, voice cracking nervously as you chuckled, looking just as nervous as him.

“I love you, Buggy.” You told him again. “And… and I saw this ring at our last stop and thought it would look so good on you, y’know? The stone reminded me of the color of your eyes and the design reminded me of us and and how we met… and I realized how much you mean to me and how great these last few years have been-”

“Is this a breakup ring?” He demanded angrily, jerking his hand back and knocking his water glass over. He pushed back from the table to avoid the spill. “Why the hell would you give that to me?! You should have just said something if you didn’t want to be with me!”

‘What? It’s, it’s not a breakup ring, that’s not a thing, Buggy!” You told him with a laugh; he glared at you, whether over the ring or the laugh, you weren’t sure, so you grabbed his hand once more. “Buggy, I’m asking you to marry me, you goof.”

Marry me.

Oh. So, not a breakup ring. Not that that’s a real thing anyway.

“Why?” He asked suspiciously.

“Why what, Buggy?”

He didn’t pull back this time, the glare turning into a perplexed expression as he looked across the table at you. Was this for real or some kind of joke? You never played a joke on him in the past, that wasn’t your thing. His ex did that sometimes: say something cruel to Buggy then claim it was just a joke, don’t be so sensitive, Bugs, geez when he would even look a bit upset. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No?”

“It’s not funny.” He shook his head and pulled back, leaving his hand with you as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. The couple at the other table were holding hands and smiling at each other over the candlelight. It was kind of gross. “I’m not laughing.”

“Buggy, I promise it’s not a joke.” You insisted, the nervousness gone and replaced with concern. “I want to marry you, babe, really.”

He glanced over at you quickly before looking away again. It was hard not to think of it as a joke. Why would you want to marry him? You said you loved him all the time, whether it was waking him up with kisses and kind words, over breakfast when you brought him your coffee, after practices and performances, and always before, during, and after sex. But that didn’t mean you would want to marry him. He figured that was something that wouldn’t ever happen to him. 

You wanted him to know you loved him unconditionally, that the ring meant that, but his reaction to it wasn’t what you expected. You didn’t want to draw attention to him, noting that the kitchen seemed to get a bit quieter since you pulled the ring out and the server hadn’t come by yet. You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to smile. 

“Do… you need to think about it?” You asked as you put the ring back in the box. “I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s… that’s okay. We probably should have talked about it before I sprung it on you.” You closed the box and stuck it back in your pocket before squeezing his hand once more. “Buggy, I’m sorry if I upset you.”

I’m sorry if I upset you. That… that was a phrase he wasn’t used to hearing until you came into his life. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before he turned to look back at you. He wanted to ignore the way your eyes glistened with tears as you picked the menu back up to look at it. 

“Why are you crying?” He asked. 

“Because I’m upset.” You told him with a sniff. “I’m upset that I… I made you uncomfortable.”

“Oh.” He waited a moment before saying, “D’you really want to marry me?”

You looked over the top of the menu with a nod and sniffle. “Really.”

“Really?” He didn’t sound convinced.

“Yes, really.” You said, lowering the menu and wiping at your eyes. “I am asking Captain Buggy the Clown, the Flashiest Fool I’ve ever met, for his hand in marriage. I want to marry you because I love you, Buggy.” You hesitated before reaching into your pocket and pulling the box back out. “I love you so much, you take such good care of me, of the rest of the freaks, and… I feel so lucky you chose me.”

He didn’t say anything as he straightened his hand out for you, wiggling his ring finger. You took the ring out of the box and watched him as you slowly slid it onto his finger. He pulled his hand back to look at it, tilting his hand in different ways to get the perfect view of the stone in the candlelight. Finally, he nodded, clearing his throat as he held his hand back over to you. 

“Y-Yes.” He said, voice catching, sounding just a bit higher before he cleared his throat again. “You can have the honor of marrying me.” 

“Yea?” A grin slowly started to spread across your face. “Really, Buggy? It’s a yes?”

“Well, it’s not a no.” He said with a shrug. “If you’ll have me, of course, baggage and all.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” You chuckled as you brought his hand closer, kissing the knuckle above his ring finger before looking up at him with a big smile. “I love you, Buggy, baggage and all.”

He couldn’t help but glance over at the couple. They were looking in your direction, having now heard some of the conversation. Buggy pulled his hand away from you and held his hand up, showing off the ring to them.

“Yea, I’m getting married. How ‘bout that?” He laughed. One of them looked expectantly at the other, who just scooted their chair away, looking uncomfortable. With a huff, the other stormed out, mumbling something about it’s been how long and that guy gets a ring? And well, Buggy felt pretty smug about that. Of the two couples in the place that night, two had a miscommunication but one got engaged. He glanced back over at you and leaned back in his chair. “So, when we doing it? When do you make an honest clown outta me?”

“Whenever you want, Buggy.” You smiled as he reached across the table for your hand. “I love you.”

“Yea, the ring makes it pretty clear that you do.” He replied as he took your hand in his. “We gotta get a matching one for your hand now, love. It’s naked without one.” 

“We can do that.” You assured him. He looked down at your hand in his, a smile appearing on his face as he looked at the ring once more.

“You really want to marry me?” He asked, needing that assurance from you once more.

You squeezed his hand gently. “I really do, Buggy. I promise.”

“Yea?”

“Yea.” 

“Okay.” He nodded as he glanced up at you, meeting your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Buggy.” 

[laurancezvahlslefteyebrow]

well hello there

here is aphmau in my au/rewrite

i tried to draw her in as many of her iconic outfits as possible but good irene she has a lot [click for better quality]

so here are some changes and headcanons i have for aph in my au:

•she’s neurodivergent. not entirely sure what specifically, probably adhd. for sure dyslexic.

•she has sensory issues, which is why she’s usually in shorts. she feels like she can’t move properly in a dress for pants.

•so in my au she is irene just like regular canon. i gave her her markings but you might notice they’re different; here’s why: so in my au, scars and tattoos can both be used as runes to conduct magicks. scar runes amplify one’s existing magicks while tattoo runes bestow a certain magicks ability to a person (even if they already have one to begin with). though this practice is outdated and illegal in most parts of the world. because irene’s abilities existed prior to her become a divine warrior, she scarred herself to not only enhance said abilities but to also show her true dedication. nowadays no one, except maybe zoey, actually knows what they are or what they’re for exactly.

sorry that was a lot… ANYWAY

•when irene locked herself away, she tried to dress in a way she thought might help her blend in in whatever time she popped back out.

•she was wrong.

•phoenix drop gets really hot, especially in the summer, and it doesn’t snow there. aphmau uses it as an excuse to wear shorts all the time.

•when she first showed up she wasn’t as clueless as they made her seem in rebirth. she was just as aware as she was in the og beginning (except no she didn’t think she was playing minecraft) her reason for helping out the village was basically this: “oh look a village, cool i needed a place to stay. oh man these guys are in rough shape, they don’t have a lord?!? ah geez no one’s helping them, guess i gotta help them. oh shit they made me lord!” ok maybe not EXACTLY like that but yk

•she’s not a pick me in this universe :) and she doesn’t lead people on.

•when garroth first noticed how hard she was working on the village without even being asked, he bought her some gloves so she’d stop tearing up her hands. he bought some basic fingerless leather gloves but payed extra to have them dyed black and embroidered with lil purpley pink flowers. he hopes she’d like them and that his gesture wouldn’t come off as clunky or weird. she loved them and keeps them with her even when they’ve gotten too worn to wear.

•laurmau is endgame. aph and aaron never have any kind of romantic relationship. he’s more of a mentor to her. (i’m sorry garmau lovers i love y’all but laurance is my guy)

ok

so that’s all folks, i’m sure i have more headcanons and changes for aphmau but none come to mind right now. feel free to leave suggestions tho :)

garroth is next >:)