#this is specific to long straight ish hair

[starsonablackboard]

managed to finish another decent ish piece so here's narinder's inutial design!! as always probably will change later

we're living by furry laws in this house so "head fur" aka hair is an option and im using it. period. another unpopular(??) choice is giving narinder a fur pattern, and don't get me wrong i love the pure black void nari, but as an artist i enjoy making up details to draw, so i indulged myself here. (but if i ever were to draw comics with him i would simplify it or just make him all-black, because repeating this every frame is a misery. fun for a one-off ref sheet tho)

not a lot of lore stuff for the guy since the idea of the au is still fresh and im figuring it all out, but there're design inspirations under the cut if you're interested!!

sooo lets go

i wanted narinder to have that dramatic sharp featured og cartoon villain look, so i took inspiration from oriental longhairs for the facial structure and from maine coons for fluffy dramatics. also i just love using maine coons as cat references. look at those things. marvellous.

from the very start (pretty much) my brain was consistently giving me images of narinder with hair, specifically dark long-ish straight-ish, so i tried to walk this mental image backwards to find the origins of it, and i think scar and ozai are my best bets. in my first sketches narinder had shoulder length hair with slight waves, but in the end i opted for long and straight. not really a reason to, just was vibing better to me

clothes are pretty standard narinder robes i think. i find it funny that fandom unanimously gave him basically a priest outfit, and i like it too, so i kept it. that red stripe gave me a little bit of a headache though, couldn't get it to look okay and not weird or tacky. i think i managed. i had to contain my urge to design him an intricate outfit with different textiles and embroidery and shit, but i try to keep it at least somewhat tied to logic and the au, and let's say that no-one was willing to do something this elaborate for narinder for quite some time

and some lore crumbs

• narinder is declawed (after his defeat that is).

see the narinder's claw relic and the whole do no evil motive. the most evil narinder directly did was the injures he inflicted on his siblings, and he did it by, quoting shamura, "such sharp claws". so yeah, that tracks. funfact i considered taking only one of his claws, from the left ring finger, because the relic is "narinder's claw" singular, but "callamar's ear" relic is also one ear and not two, so it didn't feel kike a good enough basis to take only one claw yk. so sorry big cat, all your claws are now gone

• lamb did kill narinder after defeating him. there's nothing on the pic that's tied to that fact, just thought it would be interesting to know

[sayoneee]

☆ I WANNA BE YOUR MAN

“his band is playing tonight, at seven,” annabeth reminds you, with the knowing air of someone far wiser, and far older, “you should go.” (1.7k)

contains: loser older brother luke castellan x fem! reader. mortal au. pt 2 of parent trap but can be read standalone ish. guest appearances! rock / metal music references.

kashaf’s note: i think i can call myself a melomaniac now

LUKE CASTELLAN HAS always occupied that in-between space, the no-man’s-land between something and nothing — his indecipherable gaze as his cold, black, and blued knuckles grazed your cheek when he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear swims around your mind endlessly. despite how each thought, each expression, each breath is as familiar to you as your own, you have never quite known where you stand with him, regardless of how quickly he seemed to inhabit a piece of your soul.

the familiar weight of the mixtape that luke made you feels unusually burdensome in your hands, mirroring the heft of the songs on it that you have painstakingly committed to memory, each sleepless night’s offerings of tossing and turning becoming a reoccurring ritual. 

you had popped the tape in your walkman immediately after luke had handed it to you, incognizant of the way his eyes softened as you concentrated on the music, trying to identify the first song. 

“this is that band you like — l.a. guns, right?”

“you’re a regular sherlock,” luke had said, smiling and sarcastic, twisting his silver rings.

“shut up, no i know this song,” you say, tilting your head and snapping your fingers. “its — um — i wanna be yours? nono, don’t make that face at me, asshole, hold on… i wanna be your man?”

hues of pink crept up his cheeks, and you basked in the warmth of his answering crooked grin, the feeling wrapping around you like the caress of a summer night. 

you uselessly stirred the spoon in your now stone-cold cup of chai, leaning across the kitchen table with your head propped up in your other hand. the phone taunts you from its corner on the counter, sitting just by the clear jar of blue cookies, its black hue a beacon among the sea of greens (the cabinets, the tiles — you liked to tell sally that she should try her hand at interior design one of these days) — as of late, the jacksons’ kitchen has become somewhat of a refuge for you. 

you set a steaming china cup down in front of him, listening to the sounds of percy, annabeth, and grover in the living room, pulling out the chair in front of him with a slight creak on the slightly worn wooden floors, and watching him as he taps his fingers along to bob marley’s soft crooning, “little darlin’, stir it up”, lost in his own world.  

“luke,” you say, breaking him out of his revelry.

luke sits up straight, meeting your amused gaze, “yeah?” he asks, reaching for his chai, and mumbling a quiet thanks as he sips it.

“you look kinda stupid when you think,” you say, watching him blink before taking the bait, and hiding your smile of satisfaction behind your cup.

“y’know, this is why you have a black hole for a heart,” he says, grinning crookedly, filling you with an indescribable longing to reach out and trace his grin. 

“what?” you laugh, “what does that even mean?”

“just that you’re mean,” luke says, and the afternoon sun chooses that specific moment to encompass him in its glow, like a kiss from apollo. “and that you’re emo.”

“you literally say this every time, oh my god, i’m not mean or emo.”

“because i’m literally right?”

“you like him,” annabeth says, sympathetically, standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest, her braids resting across her shoulders, glancing from your untouched cup to your face, an expression of pity gracing her features. her presence caught you so off guard that you don’t even question where percy ran off to, who was usually attached to annabeth like a conjoined twin. 

“i know,” you say, shivering slightly, the revelation feeling strangely empty, although you suppose the same part of your soul that recognized him had always known, a small inkling reappearing with every argument, and every nudge. 

“he likes you,” annabeth adds matter-of-factly, interrupting your stream of consciousness. 

“i know,” you repeat, picking at the lint on your sweater, and while this revelation is supposed to be shocking, it is also hollow, as you suppose your soul also knew this with every hushed conversation in the dead of night, and the slips of silence that only spoke volumes around him.

“his band is playing tonight, at seven,” annabeth reminds you, with the knowing air of someone far wiser, and far older, “you should go.” she turned and stalked back toward the living room.

you sat still for a minute or so, before sighing and putting luke’s mixtape (even in your misery, he is somehow always there) in your walkman, putting your headphones on as axl rose trilled, ‘i said, baby you been lookin' real good’ in his voice that took a while to get used to — something luke gave you a heads up on.

you sighed, conceding to annabeth’s attempts to rewrite whatever fate had pushed the two of you apart, from the hours-long phone calls that dwindled into short, clipped conversations, you can’t necessarily blame annabeth for trying to fashion a phoenix from the ashes of your friendship. 

you stood up, grabbed your jacket off the back of the chair you were sitting upon, and walked into the living room, pausing for a few minutes to watch the scooby doo episode on the screen along with percy, grover, and annabeth, who were currently sprawled across the softly carpeted floor, arguing over monopoly.

“you’re literally cheating,” percy was saying.

“i’m the banker, i’m supposed to be innocent,” annabeth argued back.

“percy, i saw you steal a couple dollars behind annabeth’s back,” grover added, rolling the dice.

“guys,” you said, interrupting their three-way argument, “put on your jackets and shoes, we’re going to the fair in five minutes.”

you ignored the way the troublesome trio exchanged glances, walking through the hallway covered in framed photos of percy and sally, going to wait by the door for them.

“so,” percy says, all-too-innocently, “why the sudden change of plans?” once the four of you are a couple of blocks away from his apartment.

“no reason, just wanted to see what was so hot about the fair,” you say, digging your hands in the pockets of your jacket. once more, you ignore the glances the trio exchange. 

“so it doesn’t have anything to do with a certain curly-haired individual that we’re currently seeing less and less of?”

you keep walking, trying to feign ignorance, although the question was so pointed even you were concerned with percy’s audacity, “what’re you talking about?”

“oh, nothing,” percy smiles. “just the way —”

“— the two of you —”

“— were inseparable —”

“— for a disgustingly long time —”

“— and now you’re not —”

“— but we’re going to the fair because —”

“— his band is playing —”

“— and you’re going to try and fix —”

“— your troubles in paradise.”

you blinked slowly, as the three of them did jazz hands, matching shit-eating grins on all of their faces, “how long did it take for you guys to rehearse that?”

“a week, give or take,” grover says, and annabeth shoots him a glare.

“not the point, the point is, we support you.”

“gee, thanks, all i really needed was the support of three twelve-year-olds.”

“three twelve-year-olds that know you’re stupidly in love with luke castellan,” percy points out.

“okay, y’know what…” you trail off, frowning.

annabeth nudged percy, “not the point here, again.”

“fine, fine, fine,” you huff, as the four of you approach the brightly illuminated fair, looking for the ticket-selling booth, “i’ll buy you guys tickets so you can go hang out on the rides and i’ll go to the concert.”

the three of them nodded happily, making a beeline for the cotton candy stand a few feet away. you shook your head before pushing through the bustling crowd to look for the concert stage. when you finally do find it, after three excuse me’s and four sorry’s, the concert is already in full swing, with what looks like a mini moshpit already forming somewhere near the center.

once you’ve pushed your way to the absolute front, the darkening night sky serving as a backdrop, the harsh lights illuminate all five individuals on the stage, with a gorgeous girl with shaggily-cut hair and a raspy voice singing as lead (thalia? you think you remember luke telling you on the phone late at night once). however, your gaze almost immediately fixed on luke, who was playing a riff on his electric guitar, looking as hot as ever, his crooked grin on full display.

the band is covering l.a. guns’ ‘i wanna be your man’ at the moment, and you’re suddenly very grateful to annabeth for her unsubtle nudges, because you would’ve missed out on this sight of luke castellan, the view of his muscled arms bulging out of his band tee is permanently seared into your memory.

you’re almost sad when the show is over though, finally realizing why luke liked concerts so much, from the crowd surfing to the drumstick tricks during solos (beckendorf, you think the drummer’s name was — luke had mentioned him before) to the lead’s insane vocals, to the girl with long curly hair that stood next to you for most of the concert (probably the band’s most enthusiastic fan), you savored every minute of it. however, you’re glad for the chance to corner luke afterwards, climbing onto the stage as the crowd begins to disperse in waves, and realizing the curly-haired girl was already among the band members packing up their instruments, helping the curly-haired bassist pack his things. 

luke barely looks up at your sudden arrival. “what’re you doing here?” he asks, packing away his guitar.

“i’m here to see you,” you say, trying to drive the hint home.

“i told you that you didn’t have to come see the band if you were busy,” luke says, uncomprehendingly, making eye-contact with you. 

“i like you,” you say insistently.

“c’mon, let’s not kid ourselves right now, you said we’re friends so you don’t have to try to make me feel better,” luke says, shrugging and looking away from your face, rubbing the back of his neck.

“i listen to your dumb mixtape every night, luke castellan. does a person who’s not into you do that?”

there is something so raw about the way he looks right now, with his expression stilling as his cheeks are colored in swathes of red. 

smiling at his dumbstruck expression, you surged forward to kiss him, ignoring all the wolf whistles and “get some, castellan” enveloping the two of you, tangling your fingers into his hair, his hands coming to rest upon your hips.

© sayoneee on tumblr. do not repost, plagiarize, translate or claim any of my works as your own.

[readychilledwine]

The Art of a Dress

Summary - After commissioning you to make some of his mother's designs come to life, Rhysand faces the reality that artwork is more than what's painted on Feyre's canvas and even fabric can envoke memory.

Warnings - Parenting, children, vague mention of death, angsty-ish, Liz not doing the Venus and Junon dresses justice, platonic reader relationship

A/n - The first of my Christmas fics that don't center around Christmas. I was inspired to write this after talking to @daycourtofficial . It's how I imagine Feysand having a daughter will go.. Her and Feyre would constantly coordinate or match outfits. They'd be that mommy daughter duo.

✨️Master Masterlist✨️

Starfall.

Rhysand was beyond ready for Starfall. The cherished holiday had begun to mean so much more than just the traveling of souls across the sky almost 7 years ago.

Specifically because of the little girl holding his hand, her long dark hair bouncing with each step as his son and Feyre walked behind them, warm cups of hot chocolate in hand. Nyx had grown into a handsome young male at 20 years old, turning and winking at his little sister as she held Rhysand's hand.

“Do you think y/n got the dress perfect, daddy?” Deep blue eyes looked up at him as Lenora looked up at him. Her sweet face was etched in concern.

Rhysand only felt his lips twitch up, thinking of his long time friend. You had been trained as a seamstress by his mother, and your designs had quickly become demanded all across the Night Court. Fashion was art to you, it held no boundaries, no limitations. It was self expression, freeing.

For that reason, you were the only one he trusted to create the twin gowns he had found in his mother's sketch book. “Without a doubt, starlight,” he said to her. “It is probably better than we imagined.”

“It's just my big birthday,” she whispered, almost afraid you would disappoint her.

“Every year is your big birthday, Lala” Nyx rolled his eyes before opening the doors to white shop filled with many windows. Each window had a different display. Gowns and decor showing off y/n's skills and mastery of the craft.

You had opened today just for the High Lord and his family. The Inner Circle was already all seated as you locked the doors and then hugged Feyre, “I think we start with you, momma,” you said to her. “I need to talk to Rhysand really quick if you three want to head back,” you motioned towards the velvet sitting area for Nyx and then the dressing room for Feyre.

Lenora had already run to Azriel, picked up in his arms as you looked at Rhysand. “So, we need to have a gentle talk.”

Rhysand gave you a playful shoulder shove, “Price is no concern. I know you probably put in a lot of effort.”

“It's not about price. It's about Lenora. These dresses were originally designed for your mom and sister. Who your daughter looks a lot like.”

Rhysand brushed it off, having mentally prepared, at least he thought, “I'll be okay.”

You only nodded. “Then we should start.” You followed Feyre only laughing as you saw her face. The dresses you had been given to design were works of true artistry and would fall into the history of Night Court iconic moments.

The dress was a deep rich black with a fairly simple top. A straight strapless neckline with black beading that was heavier towards the top and faded to the drop waist. Two solid panels of matching black fabric at the top and on the waist.

The skirt was where the magic began.

The skirt was layered with elongated scallop shapes that felt almost flower petals like. Each one had silver and purple jewels and sequins sewn into the edges and up. Even the train matched the details, not a single spot looking out of place.

You had spared no expense on this dress, which, to Feyre, meant her daughter's matching dress would be just as fantastic.

Feyre was silent except for the occasional emotional huff of air as you pulled up the hidden zipper. “Is it comfortable,” you asked softly.

“Yes. Not even nearly as heavy as I expected.”

You nodded at her statement, “The fabric is from Scythia. It is so buttery soft it's extra gentle on your skin. I won't get into the details on the sequins and jewel work with you. Your dear husband.. spent far too much money getting me the ones he wanted for quality.”

The High Lady nodded, “Can we show them?” You helped her step down before opening the curtain. It was a collective gasp as the first of two dresses made its debut.

Rhysand immediately circled his mate like a hawk, checking the quality of the beading placement, the cuts of each scalloped edge. “Fantastic,” he finally approved. “You look beautiful, Feyre Darling.”

Feyre was all smiles before glancing at Lenora, “I imagine you don't want to wait to see yours?”

“No,” the princess immediately ran into the dressing room, making you laugh as you pulled the curtain and began helping her.

Her dress was similar to Feyre's, only adapted to fit her slender and youthful self. This dress had heavy black beading on the strapless top. This dress had a scalloped edge neckline that seemed to melt into the drop waist. The skirt had an over layer, scallops that matched Feyre's in color and design, only this dress had one layer before falling into full shining black tulle skirts. The back was your favorite part. Those scallops continued in the back, that petal look and texture running just the train of the princess-like gown. You and Rhysand had selected this to be Lenora’s dress for weight reasons, and as you zipped her up, you didn't regret that choice.

You glanced at the little princess in the mirror, “Do you love it?”

“Yes,” her excited scream had the room beyond them laughing.

“Is it comfortable?”

“Yes!” She ran out then, you laughing as she did and barely making it to the curtain.

She had expected joy, smiles, and laughter. She was welcomed with silence, with Azriel immediately having to leave the room, Cassian squeezing his hands together. Amren and Mor touched Feyre and Nyx, indicating for them to follow the two of them out.

Rhysand had prepared, he told himself as his hands shook. He had mentally readied himself to see his daughter in this gown. Yet that preparation failed in comparison to seeing what he was looking at.

Cassian stood, “I'm so sorry,” he left the room, tears beginning to fall.

“Its not you,” you murmured to Lenora as her little lip trembled. “Shh. It's not you. Give daddy a second.”

Rhys closed his eyes before walking over and kneeling down to her. Lenora broke the silence, “Is it ugly?”

“Mother no,” his voice was breaking. “I'm so sorry baby. This Isn't the reaction you deserved you just-” he looked up at you before taking a deep breath to continue. “You look like your auntie.”

“Like Auntie Ness or Auntie Elain," she glared. There was a right answer.

“No. Like my sister. Like Evangeline.”

The almost 7 year old felt her little face falling. She knew her dad had a sister. One who was gone. But she didn't know the reason why. “Is that why you're all sad?”

“They aren't sad,” you whispered before leaving. "Trust me, dove.

Rhysand thanked your intervention silently. It gave him a moment to process and breathe. “You look so beautiful and grown up,” he studied her face. His daughter wasn't the spitting image of him. No, Lenora was his sister. That same fierceness in her eyes. The same emotional need for approval. That same desire. He had not seen it before, but something about this dress highlighted it.

Cassian was the first to return, “I'm sorry,” he said to Lenora. “I needed a second. I hope you can forgive an emotional old male.”

“Do you think I'm pretty,” she brightened up.

“Oh absolutely. Prettiest girl I've ever seen.” Only Rhysand knew the significance of that sentence. Of who it was last said to. “Might have to tell Ness she needs a new Starfall date and keep you all to myself all night.”

Lenora made a little shocked face before cuddling with Rhysand, “But daddy promised me a dance.”

“I'd surrender you once to your dad. Then all Uncle Cass time,” his voice and smirk were playful though it didn't reach those almost sad eyes. Cassian hugged Lenora, taking the healing that came with that contact and sighing softly “Give Uncle Azzy a few more minutes. Y/n is talking to him.”

And a few more minutes is what it took. Azriel entered with a small box in hand. A little tiara you had paid Neve to make to match Lenora’s dress inside. He wordlessly turned his niece to face the mirror before opening the box and placing the amethyst and grey diamond tiara into her long dark curls. His hands then went to her little shoulders resting there. “Do you know how much we all love you,” Azriel asked her.

“More than the stars?”

All three males nodded. “You look so much like her,” Azriel's voice was tight. “And that is a special thing. Your aunt was a light in darkness. Her smile and laughter brought unmatched happiness when your dad, Cassian, and I needed it most.”

“And now you do,” Rhysand told her, finishing Azriel's thought while squeezing his brother's bicep. “You are perfect, my little love.”

Lenora smiled at herself in the mirror, then as Nyx entered in the suit that coordinated with his baby sister. Her brother wasted no time bringing added excitement to the room by carefully picking her up and standing in the mirror. “We are good looking.”

“Very,” Lenora giggled. “You're handsome.”

“You're breath-taking.”

The three older males watched the sight silently. Feyre joined them again and rested her head on Rhysand's bicep. Mor entered again, still wiping tears. Amren only smiled as she came in with you.

Nyx was still talking to Lenora, pointing at things in the mirror to show his little sister details she missed. The older fae were all silent, this moment closing a wound that they'd hoped was long forgotten.

Nyx, the very image of his father. Lenora the very image of her long gone aunt.

Rhysand finally cleared his throat, “Nyx, let your mother stand by Lala. I want to see the dresses side by side.” The princeling nodded and set his sister down, standing with a hand out to help Feyre onto the pedestal.

“Stunning,” Mor said first. “They're fantastic.”

“Artwork,” Amren flatly said. “These gowns are artwork. They will need to immediately be put in your family archives, High Lord.” A murmur of agreement filled the room, your face flushing.

“You did amazing,” Azriel whispered in your ear. “We had a little doubt this time around with how she drew these.”

“Me too,” You admitted. “I definitely did too.”

Lenora looked gorgeous the next night, faelights twinkling off the jewels on her and Feyre's gown. Nyx currently was waltzing with Feyre. The two of them were only outshined by the birthday girl on her very special day. Her and Rhysand were swaying, her father having picked her up to do so. “I love my dress, daddy.”

He hummed, “I love it too. Happy birthday, my starlight.”

“Thank you,” she leaned her head into him. “Its the most special birthday.”

“The most special birthday for my most special girl,” he said. “Always my most special girl.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites

[starry-bi-sky]

I am procrastinating homework and finals studying so I'm making another DPxDC au -- or more accurately, I am making an au of an au. or combining two aus to make a third one, because I am Procastinating And thinking about it.

(the part two for my Danny is Jason Todd au is like,,, half-made and I will get around to finishing it, promiiissse)

So the two aus I had in mind were combining, of course, the two clone aus - the Danny Clone and the Damian Clone au. For folks who haven't seen either posts (or saw one but not the other) here are summaries of both:

Damian Clone Au: The LoA make a clone of Damian Wayne specifically to either kill Damian Wayne and have the clone take his place as the heir to the LoA, or to bring him back. At 6 years old though and through magical teleportation mishaps, Baby Damian ends up in the warehouse district of Amity Park and picked up (and later adopted) by Danny Fenton. They develop a brotherly dynamic with one another.

Danny Clone Au: Danny is straight up a clone of Bruce Wayne, doesn't find out until a year after he has his accident. And, for the fun of it, is also mostly-powerless (he retains his ghost sense and a semblance of a ghost core and signature, but no ghost form). His reasoning for becoming Phantom is because he has walked into the lab watching his parents dissecting ghosts post-portal working more times than he can count. And due to this, changes his beliefs from "ghosts are evil" to "ghosts are sentient and sapient beings who don't deserve this treatment". (masterpost pinned on my blog, its currently incomplete) He is also a little GNC, as a treat. Long-haired Danny ftw. Ellie is a halfa because of the ectoplasm that Vlad used, and also the same age as Danny. They call each other twins and she is viciously protective of him. He uses a baseball bat and brass knuckles that I call 'jawbreakers' to fight ghosts.

Now admittedly, not much probably changes with the combination of these aus other than the potential parallels between Damian and Danny, and Bruce and Damian - and of course, I am always a sucker for parallels. Plus Damian's running off would take Danny finding him much longer, since he can no longer fly, but all the more meaningful because he still took so much time to find him.

(It probably also makes their first meeting different as well - Danny wears a ROTTMNT Casey Jones Jr. esq. mask when he goes out, but Damian would recognize lazarus green anywhere. He'd probably try harder to kill him though once he sees his face, since he knows that its not his father but an imposter.)

It also includes what I consider a hilarious conversation: "Since I'm a clone of Bruce Wayne, does this make me your dad or your brother?" "Don't be an idiot, laeazir." "You didn't answer my question."

The biggest change that comes from this is, of course, the fact that Danny now no longer has a leg to stand on with the "you're a human, I am a ghost" excuse in order to prevent Damian to help him with ghost-fighting, because now Danny is also a squishy, fleshy and fragile human just like Damian. And a human who, arguably, has less combat training than Damian and no powers to make up for it.

Now, Danny in both aus are about 16-17-ish in age, so they've had time to adapt to their new vigilante-hero lifestyle, but its still not the same as Damian's training as an assassin. Damian, unlike in the original clone au, remains insistent on his want to help Danny.

And,,, eventually wears him down after weeks or months of sneaking out after him, helping in fights, interfering, arguing, etc. Danny eventually agrees, exhausted, but he makes Damian promise, promise, that he will be careful and to focus on dodging and distraction. At least until Danny can figure out a safer alternative. He wants him as far removed from the fight as he can, he's a child for ancient's sake, after all.

Which is another issue too - if we follow Damian Clone timeline, then Damian is six years old when this happens. I'll be point blank, I do not see Danny ever actually agreeing to let a literal 6 year old go with him. SO, solution, I bump Damian's age to 7 when he arrives in the Fenton Family, and make him freshly eight years old when he finally gets Danny to agree.

It still SUCKS. He is still very much an itty bitty child, but as someone who has seen the difference between a six year old and an eight year old due to working at a daycare, an eight year old is still... slightly feasible. And an 8 year old assassin even more so (even if he hasn't trained properly in nearly a year or so)

So Danny, reluctantly, agrees to let Damian come with him on patrols.

He ghost-proofs Damian's sword (as he has since learned to do with his bat and jawbreakers), makes him a grappling hook and a Fenton thermos, and reluctantly lets Damian come with in his old LoA uniform that he appeared in (with some tailoring and ghost-proofing, because he has since begun to grow out of the uniform).

(and Danny himself also finally starts looking into alternatives to improve his own "suit" - which is all but a hoodie and reinforced jeans and a hockey mask. He needs to set an example to his little brother, goddammit.)

Then, as they're planning for Damian's eventual (dreaded on Danny's part) debut, they sit in their shared room and brainstorm for what to call Damian. "Ellie already uses the name Spirit." Danny says, sitting criss-cross at his desk with the eraser nub of a pencil chewed between his teeth.

(Behind him he has an investigative corkboard set up -- his accident left him with the ability to see ghosts not capable of being seen on the visible plane. 'Stereotypical' ghosts. Between school work, his social life, and ghost fighting, some of his downtime is spent figuring out ways to help them move on. His most recent is a cold case.)

(Bc with Danny, I loove to have him have some sort of trait that ties him in with his original counterpart. Nature vs Nurture and all that. Investigative work can be part of that.)

"What about Wraith?" Damian suggests from the floor, leaning against the bed frame while he goes over one of his english books. They've been practicing his reading and writing.

Danny furrows his brows. "A ghost seen typically shortly after or before someone's death?"

Damian nods. "Yes, it's of a similar cadence to 'Batman and Robin'."

"What's with you and your thing with Batman and Robin?" Danny asks with a playful half-smile, Damian shrugs and looks at his books. Danny sticks the eraser back between his incisors. "Phantom and Wraith... that works, though."

The first night out together, Danny fusses over Damian, making sure every bit of uniform was secured and in place -- something Damian took mild offense over. His outfit was far more reinforced than the juvenile get-up that his older brother wore.

But he let him fuss anyways. It made him loved.

"Now remember, Wraith--"

Damian interrupts him: "Yes, I know, Dany. Avoid and distract. Stay situationally aware. I fear that is something I should be telling you, however. Mother would have your head if she ever saw what your training was like."

(It was, not for the first time, that Damian wondered how his,,, "mother",,, would react if she ever met Danyal. Not good, he knows.)

Danny's shoulders sag, and he sighs. "I believe that, what with that super-secret spy--"

"Assassin."

Danny sends him a half-hearted chagrined look, "Assassin," he corrects, "organization that made you. I'm sure I'd give your mother an aneurysm." When he's finally okay with whatever make-believe issues he found with his suit, Danny reaches for the nearby side table and carefully slips on a black domino mask over Damian's eyes. It was thin, flexible, and made with some kind of material that Danny reassured was environmentally safe.

("Some kind of matieral that Wayne Industries invented awhile ago, Sam bought it for me." Danny told him when he first showed it to him.)

It was also cold. But the chill was made up for, slightly, with Danny's warmer hands smoothing it out over his skin, and ridding of any ridges that could form. Damian isn't sure entirely what Danyal did to keep it stuck onto his face, but when he touches it with his fingers he feels a very faint seam at the edge, and it doesn't budge against his hands. It felt like a second skin.

"There we go." Danny smiles, pulling his hands back. He still looks nervous. "It's not the same as my hockey mask," which sat atop his head, ready to be pulled down, "but I think a domino mask will work better for you considering your background."

He was right, a hockey mask would only hurt Damian's peripheral vision. This mask was thin enough that it didn't.

"Ready to go, Wraith?"

"After you, Phantom."

+++

Damian has much issue with Danny's suit. He can think of a million ways to make it better. It is one of the things he and Samantha Manson can get along with, and the few times they have spent time together they have brainstormed suit ideas. He knows that since Danny took him on as Wraith, he has started to look into better suit alternatives.

However. They are both aware of the same thing:

Danny is not Batman, nor Superman, nor Wonder Woman, nor Aquaman, or the Flash, or Green Arrow, or Nightwing, or any single hero on the public roster. He is also not rich like Lex Luthor or Vlad Masters or Bruce Wayne himself.

He has no money and no contacts, and thus, no way of properly improving his suit to be something even half as safe as the other supers.

And he refuses to let Samantha Manson help him find a way to fix that - even with all that money, Samantha Manson is on an allowance from her parents, and also, despite her other range of abilities, not capable of getting those materials without putting herself on a list of some sort. They are at a standstill.

Damian knows this, because he has asked.

Until one day when Danny is talking about a case he is working on and telling Damian about old adventures he had in the Ghost Zone, does he see his brother get hit with a lightbulb.

He slaps a hand against his forehead and straightens up from his swivel seat. He huffs a laugh, "Of course! Why didn't I think of it sooner?" And he turns on his heel and hurries to his bookshelf, pulling down a notebook and flipping open to an empty page.

Damian frowns, "Laeazir?"

"I know you don't like my suit, Damian," Danny says, striding over to his desk and snatching a pencil out of a cup. He begins jotting something down on the notebook. "And there's nothing I can really do about it because, well, I'm poor in comparison to my facesake, and I don't have the resources to get my hands on someone who would make me a new suit."

"Yes, we have talked about this..." Damian nods slowly, still frowning, and trying to follow his brother's line of reasoning.

Danny shoots him a megawatt, half-tilt smile, his hair tied up into a half-bun. "But! I was thinking about it from the wrong angle. I don't have the living resources to help me get a suit, but..." he trails off, staring at Damian intently.

It dinged in Damian's brain to where he was going, "But you have the undead resources instead." He says, his eyes widening slowly. Of course, of course! Danyal was ridiculously charismatic by accident, and Damian has seen plenty of times where his heart-of-gold had one or two non-hostile ghosts be incredibly grateful to him.

His brother makes a loud, 'ding-ding-ding!' sound, pointing his pencil at Damian as his smile stretches further across his face. In a few quick strides, he was sat down next to Damian and showing him his notebook. "Correct! When I first started out as Phantom a few years ago, I managed to help a ghost who called herself Taylor, and apparently she was a seamstress both in and out of life."

Damian watches as Danny writes the name at the top of the paper, and creates bullet-points down the page. "She said that in return for saving her, I should come find her in the Ghost Zone if I ever need clothes made for me. It's a one-time thing, but I was thinking that she could perhaps help make me a new suit."

Danny turns a bit pink at the ears, and rubs his neck, "I never thought much of it because I didn't think I'd ever go into the Ghost Zone, or ever need ghost clothes, so I forgot about it up until now."

A scoff forces itself out of Damian's mouth, but he is smiling. "Danyal, you are the smartest idiot I have ever met."

For the next hour, both he and Danny make a bullet point list of what both of their suits would need. Reinforcement in certain areas, gauntlets with reinforced knuckles to replace Danyal's jawbreakers. A different weapon than a bat.... a utility belt, reinforced boots. Anything they could think of.

It was Damian's idea to add a cloak to both of their suits, asymmetrical and torn at the edges for a more 'ghostly' look. They have a theme, after all. It's quite fun.

Then Danyal calls up Sam for help in drafting up design ideas. And while Danyal steps mostly to the side when it comes to the design itself, Damian and Sam fill pages with designs until coming up with one they both agreed on and like.

"What about a lightning bolt on the chest?" "Why are we using my traumatic accident as a symbol of my identity?" "Ghosts do it all the time, Danny. Ember sings about her death." "I'm not dead?" "No that won't work, Manson. Shazam already has a giant lighting bolt emblem." "Okay, but I still want to use it somewhere." "How about this?" "...That could work. Okay, now onto your emblem--"

Last was the hard part: getting into the Ghost Zone without the Fenton parents noticing the disappearance of their precious Fenton Specter Speeder. They employed Jazz's help with that. She would get the Fentons out of the house long enough for him and Danny to get into the ghost zone, hopefully find the seamstress, and cash in that favor.

They went through with their plan that following weekend. Danny tossed Damian a small jumpsuit as they both climbed into the specter speeder, but did not grab his own. He had a small duffle bag on him that he threw under the seat.

"What is this?" Damian asks, nose scrunching up at the gaudy picture of Jack Fenton's face square at the center of the chest. He held it far away from it, as if it had a disease.

"Your hazmat suit." Danny replies, settling himself into the driver's seat as the door hissed shut and he began turning it on. He had some sort of gas mask on in his lap, too small to fit Danny's head, but certainly the right size to fit Damian's. "Normally you wouldn't need it since you'd stay in the speeder, but we're both getting out once we find Taylor. It's to protect you from the ectoplasm."

A scowl forces itself across Damian's face, "You don't have one." He points out, finding seat in the passenger chair next to Danny. His arms cross over his chest, and he was not pouting.

Danny looks at him amusedly, "I have enough ectoplasm in my body that I don't need one, you however, do not." He retorts, poking a finger into Damian's ribcage pointedly. "If you don't put it on now, you'll put it on when we find Taylor."

Damian's scowl deepens, feeling petulant as he sunk into his chair. Danny turns back to the console and flips a few more switches. "I will not, it looks ridiculous." He turns it around to show Danny the Jack Fenton Face.

The Specter Speeder hums to life, and there's a moment of turbulence as it lifts off the ground. While it does, Danny turns back to him blankly, stares at the emblem, and then reaches forward and yanks it off with a scriiiiich of the emblem. He crumples it up with one hand, and throws it into a small bin at his feet.

"There, fixed." He smiles. Then turns back to the controls, taking the yoke with both hands. "And I'm calling Dad Rights; you will put it on when we find Taylor or you'll stay in the speeder."

Damian sputters, sitting up incredulously. "You are not my father." He argues.

"Teeechnically, I am." Danny says, "I'm a clone of your father, and since I am fully his clone, that makes you my son by a technicality." He says cheerfully, pushing the specter speeder forward and into the swirling green portal.

Before Damian can retort, they're passing through the portal. This was his first time going into the Ghost Zone, and for a few seconds there was nothing but bright, swirling green filling his vision. His body felt like it was being twisted and pulled, his up and down reversing and returning. It was painless, but dizzying.

It only lasts for a few seconds, but it feels like a minute, and when they exit out the other side, Damian is holding his head while his vision spots and swims. Internally, he felt like those cartoon characters when their eyeballs rolled around in their head.

The dizziness fades away slowly, and as Damian regains his sight, he notices Danny's hand splayed over his sternum, gently keeping him pressed against his seat. It fell away when Danny saw that he was alright.

"Put your seatbelt on," Danny orders, nodding to his chair. Damian listens absently, before remembering their conversation before they went through the portal.

"That is not how it works." He scowls, and, annoyingly, only gets a challenged eyebrow raise from Danny. He could see the words written on his face without Danyal ever having to say it.

Because, dangit, he was technically right. Damian refuses to say this aloud. He screws his jaw shut, and crosses his arms back across his chest.

Danny chuckles under his breath, and turns his eyes back to the ghost zone. "My point still stands, either you wear the suit, or you don't leave the speeder."

"Fine."

+++

They eventually find where the seamstress is. Through quite a lot of Danny stopping to ask questions with any friendly ghost he came across, they eventually locate an island with a strange, urban city bustling with life on it. Massive, rocky stalagmites grew from the ground, and buildings were built on top of it or around it, with strange, warping architecture.

It was oddly beautiful.

Danny parked the speeder on the side of the street with a two hour parking sign on a nearby post. As he turned off the engine, he flipped a switch on the console that darkened the windows. He unbuckles his seat, and stood up, stretching out his back with a deep groan.

"Alright, put your suit on. The windows are tinted, so nobody should be able to see into the speeder." He orders, pulling out the duffle he brought in earlier and unzipping it. He pulls out his hockey mask and the hoodie he wore out for patrol, and the notebook they'd been using to jot down ideas for their suit.

Danny even had the hindsight to write in their respective heights, and with Tucker's help, some of their measurements. While he did that, Damian sourly pulled on his hazmat suit, irritated by the need to wear it.

Unfortunately, he also had to wear the boots and gloves for 'extra precaution'. Damian nearly bites out a grumpy 'you're as paranoid as father', but holds his tongue. He wasn't going to tell Danyal that secret.

Once he was done and Danny has his hockey mask and hoodie on, Danny grabs the gas mask and helps fit it over Damian's face. It was a sleek, simple design, shaped similarly to a regular face mask, with little filters on both sides of the mouth and a clear, protective covering around the eyes and forehead. Danyal improved it from the original his parents made.

He was smarter than he gave himself credit for.

Danny checks, then double checks that it the mask is tight, then smiles. Patting Damian's shoulders before standing up fully. "Taylor's shop should be somewhere nearby." He says, grabbing the notebook and tucking it under his arm.

Damian nods, and follows him out the door and onto the busy streets.

Finding Taylor becomes remarkably quick now that they were inside her city - something that Damian silently wondered was based loosely off NYC. Danny kept a firm arm around Damian's shoulders the entire time they walked down the street, keeping the both of them on the inside sidewalk.

Barely anyone passed them a second glance, spare the few odd looks shot at Damian. Danny whispers to him the first time it happens that it's because he has no ghost core, those more attune to their signatures might've been picking up on it.

They didn't notice Danny, because he had one, albeit a weak one.

Taylor's shop has a big sign on it in logographic writing that Damian has no idea how to read. The text shifts slowly, a jambled squiggle of lines, dots, and connected curves that look like a mix of messy cursive, gibberish, and logographic alphabets. He only knows its Taylor's shop because Danny pulls them towards it, stating that it was the place.

"You can read that?" He asks, incredulous as they draw closer to the door. Danny moves his arm off his shoulder, and wraps his fingers around Damian's instead.

"Yep," He replies, then scrunches his nose up, "sort of. It's - uh--" he stumbles over a word that Damian's ears cannot comprehend, but fills his head with slight static regardless. Danny winces. "It's the written form of ghostspeak, but since I'm not a ghost, I can only read some of it. Like uh, dyslexia."

"...I see." Damian says after a moment of silence, trying to replay the word in his head. His mind can't grasp the sound.

When they enter, the door doesn't ding with the sound of a bell, but rather it makes a low scream. Nobody bats an eye to the sound, keeping to their slow search through the racks of clothes.

At the counter was a woman talking quietly to another woman, one of whom Danny recognizes, as he walks over to her.

He doesn't need to say anything, because the woman behind the counter sees him coming, and her face positively lights up with delight. "Phantom!" She cries, and gestures to come over. "I was wondering when in the high ancients you were going to come see me!"

Danny's face is obscured by his mask, but Damian knows he's smiling sheepishly with the way he tilts his head and the way he tenses his shoulders. "My bad, Miss Taylor," he says, reaching the counter and standing beside the woman she was talking to, "It kinda... slipped my mind."

Taylor waves her hand dismissively, "Well you are here now!" She replies, grinning wide. Then her eyes pop open - literally - and she puts a hand over her chest. "Oh, how rude of me!" She turns and gestures between Phantom and the lady next to him, "Miss Mabam, this is Phantom. I told you about him a couple of years ago. He saved me from humans. Phantom, this is Gigi Mabam, she funds my shop. In return I make clothes for her and her staff."

The 'Gigi' woman turns just as Danny does, and smiles wide at him. Damian narrows his eyes at her, shuffling behind Danny legs as he looked her up and down. She had silvery-white hair and purple skin, and wore a darker purple business suit, a red gem cravat at her collar, and teal cat-eye glasses.

There was a lot of purple.

"So this is the ghost-touched you were telling me about, dear!" The woman, Mabam, said. Her voice was rich and low but she spoke in a whimsical cadence. It made Damian's skin crawl, and his narrowed eyes turned into a glare. "I must thank you for saving my seamstress, it would've been quite a fizzy-wink if she had been lost to those ghosty hunters."

What were those nonsense words? Damian hated it.

"Miss Mabam here runs a five-star hotel nearby," Taylor explains, her body turned to Danny, "she also is in charge of the city's Battle Nexus."

Danny is silent for a moment, and his free hand lifts and places itself on the back of Damian's head, keeping him close. "Battle Nexus...?"

Mabam claps cheerfully, laughing low, "Oh yes! Ghosts from all around the zone come to attend and watch as their fellow haunties are ripped from limbity-limb in a blood-curdling battle!"

Danny is still as stone. "I see." He says, careful. Damian wraps his fingers around his pant leg. "Well, I hate to interrupt your conversation, but I was hoping to cash in that favor, Miss Taylor?"

"Of course! What do you need?"

Danny looks down at Damian, and he looks up at him, locking eyes with the ominous green glowing from the eyeslits of his mask. He nods, and Danny looks back up. "Do you know how to make suits? Of the protective kind?"

+++

The seamstress it turns out, is capable of such a thing. And she ushers the both of them into one of the backrooms, sending off Mabam with a farewell and a promise to continue their conversation soon.

She flips through their design book, and immediately gets to work making their suits. In the end, with the help of her powers, she gets both done over the span of four hours. It's longer than both Danny and Damian want, but neither rush her.

Damian just hopes that Jasmine can keep the Fenton parents distracted for that long. She will have to.

The suits are better in real life than on paper, and Damian preens from the side in his own custom suit as Danny examines his own in front of the three mirrors. They were both dressed in all black, but whatever fabric Taylor used was of a blackest-black, turning Danyal - and Damian's - bodies into a black hole to look at. Both of them were fitted for agility, with reinforced padding around their shoulders and chests, as well as around the joints of their legs. Their boots were reinforced as well.

("It was hard to make your boots shock absorbent," Taylor explains, "since we all fly, but I applied similar stuff to what I did with your shoulders and chestplate.")

On the side of Danyal's legs were raised, black, lichtenberg-like figures that were contained to the seams and disappeared under his boots. There were similar designs going up his sleeves, with spiked gauntlets wrapped around his lower arm and hands. The knuckles were reinforced, just like he wanted.

Damian's favorite parts were their capes, however. Black like the rest of the outfit, but "wrapped" around their shoulders like an apocalyptic shawl with a back that went down to their knees, and at the hems the capes were torn and ripped like a wraith. Danyal's mask had gone through very little change. It was made of a stronger material, and Taylor had gone and made it more skull-like in its shape, with three large grills at the front, and the sides curving inward below the 'cheekbones' of the skull to better fit his face. It was still shock white, the only white part of Danyal's entire costume.

Damian's suit was almost identical. However, rather than having the seams of his suit resemble lichtenberg figures, the seams of his sleeves and upper torso were that of a black skeleton, with bone-y designs over his gauntlets and the fingers an ombre of dark red-to-black. And around his torso were raised lines that looked similar to a ribcage. The edge of his cloak was splatter a dark red as well. And he had a new domino mask that looked similar to the upper half of Danyal's mask, with the outer edges curved downward over his cheekbones. He was briefly allowed to take off the upper part of his gas mask to try on the mask.

The best part however, was that since the suits were made of material native to the ghost zone, they could also be taken off quickly and hidden in a small artifact. It was magic, is what it was. Danyal chose earrings, and Damian chose a ring.

When they got back to the Fenton house, Jazz demands a box of chocolate for her hard work. Damian thinks that's only fair as Danny takes them both out to get candy for Jazz.

+++

But other than vigilante stuff, not else much changes. Danny gets to pull a "Dad By Technicality Rule" card over Damian when he's being a brat. Danny doesn't have his run in with Rift (a ghost who portals him into Gotham) until after he meets Damian/lets Damian join him on patrol and when they get new suits.

My reason? Because I want it to happen after that point in time lol. It also makes the eventual "heyyyyy you have a clone" @ bruce much funnier to me because not only does he have a clone of HIMSELF but also THAT clone has a clone of Damian living with him.

Also when Danny destabilizes for the first time Damian is terrified for his safety. The fentons are surprisingly good at cloning, Danny hasn't had any issues up until this point in time, and that's only because he got hit with a new gun from Skulker that messed up the ectoplasm he had in his dna, which in term fucked with his own DNA.

Danny's destabilization, imo, is not "I cast you with Melt" he's not Ellie, he's not made of 50% ectoplasm. His parents surprisingly knew what they were doing, and he was human. So his destabilization should be unique to himself and different. Thus his destabilization is "I cast you with Compromised Immune System" his body slowly weakens over time as his cells destabilize. He becomes unnaturally frail and sick. Damian calls Ellie for help when Danny doesn't get up after being hit in a fight that he normally, and Ellie helps figure out that he's destabilizing. This is whats gonna happen in OG clone au too, but Ellie is going to be there rather than Damian.

It makes going to Wayne Manor after that slightly more interesting,,,

[ssajemilyprentiss]

In the air

Pairing: Emily Prentiss x reader 

Warnings: Smut, angsty-ish, reader is a bit cold/lacks emotion, Emily is a bit out of character lol (just this once), mentions of death (you know the regular cm stuff), sexual tension (or more like an attempt at it lol), curse words, eating out, vaginal fingering, nipple/breast play, dirty talk, use of pet names, degradation, praise. Let me know if i forgot something - Also MINORS DNI

Summary: When you get brought in for questioning at the FBI and they have Emily interrogate you - the tension between you is instant.

Wordcount: 2k

A/N: Um hello I guess, I’m back lol. It has been a hot minute since I both wrote and posted on here, and tbh I am a lil scared doing this again. Even tho I love posting and writing I have been so uninspired and unmotivated for so so long for some reason. But I will try to post more, can’t make any promises tho lol. 

The beginning of this has been sitting in my drafts for god knows how long and I wanted to do something with it so here I am doing it lmao

Also a reminder if it has been forgotten, english is not my first language - and I would deeply appreciate your thoughts and opinions on this, thanks besties <3

This was requested by the lovely Jas @rafetopia​​​ (you requested this such a long time ago so you have probably forgotten it, and i can’t find your ask either, sorry about that lmao) who wrote the following: “so what if you wrote a blurb or one shot with emily (or jj tbh i don’t really care i love them both) and there are some murders and the reader is the suspect and there’s a hot interrogation session (i’m a sucker for it) but the ending is up to you like if she’s innocent or not (only if you want to lol) i didn’t want to make it too specific so you still have freedom 😅”

I decided to go with Emily for this one, hope that’s fine Jas (also hope it's fine i added the smut lmao) thank you for this request and i hope this turns out the way you wanted to <3

☽ My masterlist here

☽ Want to request something from me? Take a look here

You let out a deep sigh, crossing your legs for what felt like the hundredth time. The dark, pale interrogation room at the FBI headquarters was freezing cold and you feel yourself getting goosebumps from the chilly atmosphere. How long had you been sitting here? An hour? Two? Who knew? No one had told you anything yet, and none of the agents who showed up and arrested you had come in. Just as you’re about to uncross your legs the door opens and a grey-haired goddess of an FBI agent steps inside the room, her commanding presence immediately taking over the room. She takes a seat across from you, not saying anything. She stares deadpanned at you but all you can think about her eyes - dark brown, almost black, and you feel how you could get lost staring into them. The next thing you see is her nose, straight and pointy - one of her defining features for sure. Your eyes move on to her lips, they are full with a hint of red - red is definitely her color. You keep staring at her lips, biting your own lower lip as you do. You sit in silence for you don’t know how long, until she breaks the silence by clearing her throat. Your eyes shoot up from her lips into her eyes once again, and you see a sly smile forming on her mouth before she starts talking:

“My name is Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss, I’m a profiler with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit” she takes a breath before continuing “do you know why you’re here Ms. Y/L/N?”

“Actually I don’t” you reply, your lips forming a small smirk “but please agent, do enlighten me”

“You are here on suspicion of murder” 

“Murder?” you retort, raising an eyebrow

“Correct, murder” she replies, tossing pictures on the table - but you keep staring into her eyes. 

“Look at the pictures” she demands

You do, and see yourself in all of them - together with different women. You look up at the agent again with a blank expression. 

“Do you recognize the women in the pictures?” she asks

“Well yes I do” you reply

You point to one of them “That’s me right there” 

“‘I mean the other women” she retorts annoyed

“Oh, silly me” you chuckle “well yes I recognize them too”

“Go on” she says

“Well, as you can see I’ve met them all” 

“Doing what?”

“Do you really wanna know that, Agent Prentiss?” 

“Go on” she encourages you “What about her?” she asks, holding up one of the photos

You look at the photo for a while, it’s of you and one of the girls you had met - what was her name? Mia? Sophia?

“She was a pleasure”

“How come all the women you have met turned up dead just a few days after meeting you?” she asks, her tone accusatory 

“Don’t know” you reply, shrugging your shoulders

“This isn’t a game Y/N, people are dead” she says, venom lacing her tone

“Don’t you think I know that?” you scoff “well I didn’t kill them”

“Where were you on these dates and times?” she asks, sliding a piece of paper with them written down towards you

“Well I can tell you that on all these dates I was very busy” 

“With what?” she asks

You bite your lip again before answering “Well I was with my very good friend Izzie”

She sighs “And you were doing?”

You lean back in your chair, keeping your eyes fixed on hers as you do “You know the usual - shopping, drinking coffee, eating”

“Eating what?” she asks

You chuckle lightly “We were eating a lot of things, if you know what I mean” you say as you raise an eyebrow at her. You see how she takes a second, thinking about what you’re saying, but if your answer startles her - she doesn’t give it away. 

“To be fair Y/N” Emily sighs “I’m getting kinda tired of this” 

“Likewise” you reply, crossing your arms

Emily leans across the table, staring into your eyes. Her hands firmly gripping the table, and you imagine them gripping your body instead. You are woken from your fantasy by her hot breath right next to your ear. You feel the hairs on your arms raising and how wetness starts pooling between your legs.

“So why won’t you just tell me the truth, like a good girl” she whispers, nipping lightly at your ear

You take a sharp breath, exhaling shakily and not daring to move a muscle. 

“Tell me Y/N” she whispers again “do you want to be my good girl?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. She chuckles lightly and tuts

“None of that now, I want to hear you say it” she whispers

You whimper lightly and swallow, just as you’re about to open your mouth the door opens and you and Emily get away from each other, she sits down in her chair composing herself. You sit back in your chair, feeling out of breath. You lock eyes with a tall grumpy agent who stares deadpanned at you. 

“You’re free to go Ms. Y/L/N” he says

“What?” you ask, shocked

“You’re free to go” he repeats “your alibi checks out”

You get up from the chair and as you’re about to leave the room you stop right by Emily’s ear and whisper:

“That was fun, we should do it again sometime” 

You don’t give her time to reply, swiftly exiting the room. On the way out you feel all the other agents staring at you as you walk past them, but all you can do is smirk - thinking back at the moment you just had with Emily - and how you need to get rid of the wetness between your legs the first thing you do when you get home. 

/

The sun was shining outside the BAU, and you close your eyes taking a deep breath. You felt your phone vibrating in your pocket, picking it up you see your uber is on its way. You close your eyes and exhale once more, but before you know it someone is behind you and pushes you against the wall of the building, their hand on your throat. You feel your air supply being cut off and open your eyes in panic, and there in front of you is the grey-haired goddess of an FBI agent once more. She releases the pressure against your throat a little, but keeps her hand steady. You gasp for air as she leans towards you. 

“Listen here you little slut” she says “I don’t think you’re as innocent as you make it look, but to be honest right now I don’t give a fuck”

You don’t answer, focusing on your breathing

“But what I’m more interested in right now is to keep our little party going” she says, backing away “If you want to?”

You raise an eyebrow at her, but can tell from the look on her face that she is serious. You chuckle, looking down at your feet with a sly smile - you look up again, meeting her brown eyes and reply:

“I’d never thought you’d ask”

/ 

She pulls you inside her apartment, dragging you towards her bedroom. She pushes you against the wall once again and presses her lips against yours. You moan into her mouth as your hands caress her body, reaching her breasts. 

“Let me take your shirt off” you pant into her mouth

She pulls away and you pull her shirt over her head, and then do the same with yours. You take off her bra while she does the same with yours. She trails her kisses along your neck, and you throw your head back, giving her full access. She stops by your pulse point, sucking hard on it. You close your eyes and moan as she does, your hands finding her breasts. You start rubbing one of her nipples between your fingers, causing her to moan against your neck. She keeps trailing kisses further down on your body and reaches your breasts. She takes one of your nipples in her mouth, circling her tongue against it. 

“Holy fuck” you breathe out “keep doing that”

She chuckles lightly against your nipple before pinching it lightly with her teeth, making you yelp. 

“Lay down on the bed” she says

You obey, laying down on your back

“You’re so wet for me, aren’t you?” she asks, smirking

You lick your lips and nod, staring up at her. 

She lowers herself, trailing kisses along your stomach down towards your pussy. You feel your clit pulsing and wetness dripping between your legs. 

“Spread those legs for me” she says, and you obey instantly “let me see that pretty pussy of yours” 

She starts kissing your inner thighs slowly, just brushing over your clit lightly when she switches from one leg to the other. 

“Please” you pant, putting your hands in her hair directing her towards your clit “Please stop teasing and fuck me”

“As you wish princess” she says and start sucking forcefully on your clit, making you moan hard of the instant pleasure she gives you

“Such a good girl” she says against your clit, and you thrust your hips forward, looking for more. She chuckles softly and starts licking up and down your slit, and she easily slips two fingers into you - thrusting them slowly. 

“Harder please” you pant “I’m gonna cum”

She picks up her pace, her thrusts becoming more determined, and your eyes starts fluttering from the overwhelming pleasure that is approaching you

“Cum for me” she husks and circle your clit once more, your orgasm washing over you like a wave of pleasure 

“Fuck” you breathe out as she starts lapping up your juices

She kiss you and you taste yourself on her tongue, and then you flip her over - with her underneath you this time

“My turn” you coo and lick your lips, pinning her wrists above her head as you caress one of her nipples with your tongue

"So perfect" you murmur "Perfect tits. Perfect ass. Perfect everything" 

You work your way down her body, kissing her 

“Please” she breathes heavily “I need you”

“Where do you need me?” you ask, kneading her breasts once more 

“Inside” she whimpers “your fingers inside”

You lick a line along her slit, tasting her wetness 

“My my” you chuckle “do I make you this wet?” 

“Yes” she groans “please just fuck me”

You slide two fingers inside of her, thrusting them slowly as you lower yourself towards her clit and take it in your mouth. She moans deeply and arches her back, and you start picking up your pace. 

“Please” she breathes “need more”

You add another finger smoothly, and let her adjust a little before you start thrusting again, and you curl your fingers at her g-spot and start circling your tongue on her clit again - feeling her walls clenching against your fingers

“Yes” she cries out “just like that, I’m cumming” 

You pick up the pace, flicking her clit harder and thrust your finger faster. 

You feel her orgasm taking over, and she cries out from pleasure. You keep thrusting, helping her ride out her orgasm. When she has calmed down you slip out your fingers and take them in your mouth, cleaning her juices from them - and you moan once again from her taste. 

The two of you crash down on the bed next to each other, panting heavily. 

“That was good” she whispers

“So fucking good” you reply and she chuckles at you, turning her head towards you

You stare into Emily’s dark brown eyes once again, the first thing you had noticed about her when she walked into that interrogation room what felt like an eternity ago. Whatever lies behind those beautiful brown eyes is one mystery you would spend your entire life solving. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @rafetopia / @ssa-sapphic  / @sweetmidnights / @alexbllake / @emilyprsntiss / @sleep-deprived-athlete / @jemilyssecretlover /  @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos / @cmslvtt / @phatcrackdad / @rookie-prentiss (this taglist is sooo old, so i'm sorry in advance if you don't want to be tagged, just let me know and i'll delete you <3)

[yeonjunsvape]

souls don’t meet by accident

jooyeon smut

w/c: 1.7k

warnings: very smutty, 18+ only, dry humping, fingering, suggestive language, drinking.

a/n: sorry it’s a little long at the beginning, i wanted to try building character development-ish. please enjoy and follow for more. i’ll be doing txt, svt, and more xdh soon!! if you’d like to see anything in specific, feel free to message!! also big thanks to @joocomics for helping me and being a complete angel 🫶

the body. the muscles. the long slick back blonde hair. the tattoos that cover his body.

every inch of your new neighbor makes your body warm inside, even if you were too shy to say anything to him.

the first time you laid eyes on him he was outside, shirtless, and sorting the recyclables in his trash. his tattoos took up both of his arms and some on his chest, though you couldn't make out what they were you were interested.

"[Y/N], will you stop stalking the neighbor, he's going to think we're freaks." your roommate says and shakes her head, then sitting next to you on the couch at your bay window when she noticed you weren't listening.

"but look at him... i think the only thing in his closet is sweatpants and i'm totally fine with that." you sigh out lovingly, resting a cheek on your arm.

"your last relationship was what?.... 6 months ago, you should be out there meeting new people." your roommate nags on, but you tune her out again, watching the man from across the street walk inside his house.

"okay, if i go out with you tonight will you stop sounding like my mother?" you ask and grab her hands while facing each other on the couch. "yes, and i'll buy all your drinks if you let me give you a makeover." your eyebrows raised then you look down at your long t-shirt and sweats. "okay deal."

after hours of getting ready, it was already dark and the two of you head out to the local bar she usually attends.

you look down at your outfit, blushing a bit, embarrassed because she put you in a tight strapless crop top paired with a plaid skirt and biker boots. “you don’t think this outfit is trying too hard?” you ask her and she analyzes you once more before you enter the bar. “no, you look perfect, now, when we go in i’ll introduce you to some nice guys.”

the regret soon filled your body once you walk through the doors, eyes from all around are looking straight at you. considering no one was dressed up this much, you became an eye sore and your roommate noticed your insecurities. “2 tequilas please.” she basically screamed, trying to speak louder than the music.

“alright everyone, next up is a local underground singer by the name of lee jooyeon.” a man over the mic on stage welcomed.

you turn your attention to the stage when you hear soft strums of a guitar playing and a beautiful voice singing ‘creep’ by radiohead. it was one of your favorite songs so you were mesmerized how he sang every key perfectly.

“lee jooyeon..” you whisper to yourself then your eyes squint to see better. “oh my god, that’s the neighbor.” you nudge your friend and she turns to face the stage, “let’s get closer to make sure.” the two of you find a table that was close enough to see him, but not close enough for him to see you and both confirm it was definitely jooyeon when you see the familiar tattoos littering his arms.

“can he be any more dreamy?” you ask, looking doe eyed at him on stage, not realizing a man sat next to you at the table, “hey pretty.” he smirks with confidence and you just ignore him, eyes stuck on jooyeon. he clears his throat and says it louder, “hey pretty!!” at that moment jooyeon finished the song and the whole bar heard the man next to you yelling.

your face got red when you hear laughs, then look up at the stage where jooyeon has his eyebrow raised with a smirk. the man was also embarrassed, walking away from your roommate and you.

“i’m leaving,” you mumble to your roommate but she grabs your wrist, “your crush is here and you’re leaving? you didn’t even know his name until tonight, i call that progress.” she was right so you sit back down, looking around to keep an eye out for jooyeon.

the tequila finally caught up with you after 4 more shots and you go to the dance floor when an up beat song starts playing, dancing by yourself with no care in the world. the promise your roommate made about not leaving your side was out the window, she was currently making out with a random man in a booth and you knew she was taking him home.

all thoughts about jooyeon or socializing weren’t a care to you right now, your main priority was dancing with a tequila in your hand and feeling the music. “hey pretty…” your face scrunched when you hear the familiar words and turn around to tell the man to leave you alone but you didn’t realize how close he was to you.

the feeling of breath on your neck made your body jolt and when your eyes met, it wasn’t the random guy trying to hit on you. it was jooyeon.

“may i dance with you?” he asks politely but before you could answer he held you by the hips, swaying to the music. “you’re-i’m- jooyeon.” was all you mustered out and he chuckles, pulling you closer. “i know who i am, who are you?” he smirks, taking a sip of the drink he had. “oh, my name is [Y/N].”

his head nods and his lips go close to your ear, “nice to meet you, you look really sexy in that outfit.” your face turns plum red, which he noticed of course and you put your free hand on his moist neck. “you look really sexy with your shirt off.” you whisper back, the tequila giving you all the confidence. “how would you know?” jooyeon asks and you didn’t answer, grinding slowly on his imprint.

his head hangs back so his entire neck was exposed and it gives you room to kiss his adams apple. “we just met and i already like your style.” he mumbles in your ear, then leans down to give your lips a hard kiss.

it was euphoric to finally feel what jooyeon’s lips taste like and the moans escaping his mouth when you press your knee down on his growing dick through his pants. pulling away was hard, but you wanted to look in his eyes as you were dry humping him in front of everyone.

the lip bite he did from trying not to moan was sexier than him actually making noises so you continue, looking down to see his cock outline. “you’re huge.” you mumble in his ear and he kisses your neck roughly. “should we take this somewhere else?” you nod and grab his hand, leading him towards an empty bathroom.

when the music was just background noise now you lock the door and turn to see his long frame in the light, walking towards you. “i can tell you’re excited too.” he says bluntly, the both of you looking down at the wet spot you left on his thigh.

a smile grows on your face and you start laughing, “feeling your big cock against my pussy made me wet, it’s natural.” within seconds he had you up against the wall by the neck and you hum slightly. “are you going to fuck me now?” you ask in a rhetorical manner, hearing him grunt lowly.

“get on the sink counter.” he orders without question, watching you climb up. “let me see what panties you’re wearing.” he mumbles, pulling off your skirt to see nothing underneath. “oh you came to the bar expecting to be fucked huh?” jooyeon asks, pulling your legs towards him so he could bend down and give your pussy a kiss.

“i was going to find the sexiest guy in the bar and let him fuck me until i lose vision.” you moan out when he starts sucking on your clit, a hand finding his hair so you had something to grip.

the way he works his tongue was like magic, he seems to know exactly where all your sweet spots are, and the more you moan, the rougher he is with his movements. “please fuck me jooyeon.” you’re becoming impatient and want to cum on his dick instead of in his mouth. “i thought you wanted the sexiest guy in the bar to fuck you baby,” he smirks and stands up, sliding two fingers immediately in your wetness.

“fuck the bar, you’re the sexiest guy i’ve ever seen.” you whimper when he starts pumping fast. “say it again.” he demands, his fingers never losing momentum. “you’re the sexiest guy jooyeon!” the words only made his fingers go faster, then adding a third. “again.” you scream out when he adds the third finger and he pushes them hard. “i said again.” “you’re the sexiest guy in the world.” you whimper out, a strange feeling in your gut approached and the smirk on his face scared you for what was about to happen.

three more pumps of his fingers you let out a blood curdling scream and he pulls all digits out, then fiercely rubs your clit. “good girl, you’re such a good girl.” he whispers in your ear out of breath and your hips jolt up, squirting on his hand.

you two sit there for a minute, him still slowly rubbing your clit. “i can’t believe that came out of me, i’ve never done that before.” you were pleased and surprised at how much was on the floor when you look down with your legs still spread.

“you can ask me to do that anytime you want, all i have to do is walk across the street. it’s better than just staring at me through your window.” jooyeon says with a confident laugh, helping you off the counter. “you knew? why didn’t you tell me?” you scoff, fixing your skirt so it wasnt at your waist anymore. “the same reason you didn’t tell me, it would’ve been better if we just pretended not to know each other. why else would i only come outside shirtless? i wanted to impress you.”

jooyeon gives you a kiss and you pout, looking at his still hard cock through his pants. “i didn’t get to please you though..” he wraps an around your shoulders and walks out of the bathroom, “you’ll have to come over tonight and make it up to me then.”

you can tell you’ll be having fun with jooyeon the entire night.

[strayrockette]

His Eyes on Me: Part 1

a/n: I MADE MY FIRST COLLAGE AGHHHHH!!

Summary: His eyes are on her but she'd reluctant to believe it

Masterlist/Part Two-Part Three

“You’ve got yourself an admirer,” Lacey’s voice giggled beside me, the teasing lilt impossible to ignore. I hummed in response, pulling my straw into my mouth and taking a long sip of my milkshake. My voice was muffled as I spoke around the straw, “Ish pro’ly fa you.” I hadn’t bothered to look the first three times she mentioned it, figuring she was just trying to get a rise out of me. Lacey was sitting right next to me, all blonde curls and striking blue eyes that turned heads wherever she went. She was the kind of gorgeous that guys couldn’t look away from, and I was… well, the pretty girl next door by comparison.

I didn’t have Lacey’s sharp cheekbones or Natalie’s cold, model-like grace. My features were softer—plump cheeks, plump lips, and wide eyes that always made me look a little younger than I was. My body followed suit: wide hips, thick thighs, and a waist that dipped but was hidden behind layers of comfortable clothes. I wasn’t insecure by any means; I just knew my role in our trio. Lacey was the bombshell, Natalie the dark-haired siren, and I was somewhere in between—sweet, approachable, the one who got attention when no one else was around.

Lacey nudged me with a pout, her voice dipping into a whine as she tried to coax me into looking. “Come on, just take a peek out the window. You’ve been ignoring him all night.”

I hissed at her, “No, stop it. It’s definitely not for me.” My eyes stayed glued to my milkshake, focusing on the way the whipped cream was starting to melt into the chocolate swirl.

Natalie, who had been pretending not to listen, chimed in with a giggle. “Oh honey, he’s definitely eyeing you.” She waggled her eyebrows, her sharp hazel eyes glinting with mischief.

I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at her, trying to brush off the attention. “You guys are just desperate to pair me up with anyone you can find.”

Lacey, never one to give up, poked my side playfully, wiggling her finger into the soft spot she knew would make me squeal. I jerked away from her, my shoulder colliding with the glass window and the counter digging into my ribs. “You promised you wouldn’t bring out the tickle monster,” I glared at her, pointing an accusing finger.

She crossed her eyes and puckered her lips in a comically exaggerated expression, her voice lowering into a mock-serious tone. “Yes, I did, but only on a specific condition that you had to follow.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully, mimicking the look of a wise old sage. Silence fell around us, and we all stared at her ridiculous expression, trying to keep straight faces. But I couldn’t hold it in for long—I burst out laughing just as she took a sharp breath and choked on air. Her face twisted in surprise as she coughed, eyes watering. “I breathed down the wrong hole,” she wheezed.

Our laughter rang through the small diner, drowning out the clinking of silverware and the low murmur of conversations. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue through the windows as the evening crowd trickled in. It was supposed to be a girls’ night, just the three of us catching up, but I was starting to suspect my friends had other plans. Everywhere we went, they nudged me and whispered about some guy staring at me. I loved them for it—loved that they wanted me to find someone—but I knew the truth. Most of the time, the guys who feigned interest in me were just using me to get closer to my friends.

Natalie leaned in, snapping her fingers in front of my face to get my attention. “Just give him a peek and decide for yourself who he’s starin’ at, sweet pea.”

I glanced at her, seeing the encouragement in her hazel eyes, and then shifted to Lacey, who was already wiggling her fingers again, threatening another tickle attack. “No more tickle monster,” I warned, pointing sternly.

Lacey slumped in mock defeat. “Fine, fine. No more tickle monster, but you have to look at him.”

I sighed, feeling the weight of their anticipation. “Fine,” I grumbled, turning toward the window. “But I seriously dou—”

The words caught in my throat, disappearing in an instant. My breath hitched, and I felt my heart stutter as my eyes found him across the street. He was leaning against his motorcycle, completely at ease, like he owned the whole damn world and knew it. The sunset bathed him in a warm, golden light, illuminating every detail: his tousled blonde hair, rugged and windswept, and those eyes—striking blue, clear and sharp, staring directly at me.

There was no mistaking it; he was staring right at me. Not a casual glance or a lazy look, but an intense, unwavering gaze that made my skin heat and my stomach twist. His eyes were piercing, almost electric in their intensity, a shade of blue so vivid it was impossible not to get lost in. There was a quiet intensity to the way he watched me, like he was seeing something no one else did, and it was both unnerving and thrilling.

He was effortlessly handsome, the kind of guy who looked like he belonged on the cover of a gritty magazine. His blonde hair was slightly messy, perfectly imperfect, and he wore a black t-shirt that clung to his muscular frame, showing off strong, defined arms and the hint of a tattoo peeking out just above his rolled-up sleeve. His jeans were worn and faded, and he wore rings on his fingers—little details that spoke of a man who lived his life on his own terms.

“That’s Benny Cross,” Natalie whispered conspiratorially, as if saying his name too loud would draw him in. “He’s got a bit of a reputation, if you know what I mean.”

Benny Cross. The name was familiar, whispered around town like a secret everyone knew but no one dared to speak too loudly. He was the kind of guy your parents warned you about—the rough-around-the-edges rebel who lived on his own terms. Not much was known about how he grew up, but the rumors were enough. His family was rough, the kind you kept your distance from if you knew what was good for you. Benny had carved out his own path, far removed from whatever mess his family was involved in. He was trouble, wrapped in leather and bad decisions, and yet, there was something about the way he stood there, so self-assured and unbothered, that pulled me in.

His expression was unreadable, He didn’t look away. He didn’t even blink. It was like he was studying me, taking in every detail, every reaction, and it made me feel more seen than I ever had before. Lacey’s teasing grin, Natalie’s knowing smirk—they were lost to me now. All I could think about was the boy on the bike, his piercing blue eyes, and the sudden, reckless thrill that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t staring at Lacey or Natalie after all.

“He’s probably starin’ at his reflection or somethin’,” the excuse fell from my lips, weak and lame even as I said it. I turned back toward the counter, pulling my milkshake close and letting my thick hair fall over my left shoulder, effectively hiding my face from his view. It wasn’t like I was hiding—I just didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I noticed. At least that’s what I told myself.

Natalie giggled beside me, her voice dripping with amusement. “If that were true, you wouldn’t be hidin’,” she pointed out, her eyes dancing with mischief.

I scoffed, hoping to deflect the heat rising to my cheeks. “I’m just tryin’ to enjoy this delicious milkshake in peace,” I mumbled, swirling the empty cup absentmindedly as if there was still something left to savor.

Lacey snorted, reaching out and snatching the cup from my hands. “Yeah, a milkshake that’s been empty for the last 5 minutes,” she teased, tipping it upside down for emphasis. A few melted drops hit the table, proving her point.

I glanced between them, trying to keep my expression neutral even though my heart was doing somersaults. Both of them were grinning at me like they were in on some secret I wasn’t. “He’s into you,” they sang in unison, their voices lilting with a teasing harmony that made me want to crawl under the table.

My face flushed, and I reached over, playfully slapping Lacey’s arm. “No, he’s not. I promise he isn’t,” I insisted, though my voice wavered with the insecurity I tried so hard to hide.

“Oh yeah?” Lacey’s tone held a challenge, her eyes narrowing with a spark of mischief. Natalie leaned in closer, her grin widening. “You wanna bet?”

I stared at them incredulously, my mouth dropping open. “Stop that!” I muttered, trying to hide how flustered I was, but they were relentless.

“Triple dog dare ya to go talk to him,” they said in perfect sync, their eyes gleaming with the thrill of the dare.

“You aren’t even twins! Stop it,” I whisper-shouted, my voice tinged with annoyance. “He isn’t into me. He could be starin’ at anybody.”

“Then go ask him,” Natalie chimed in, her grin turning wicked. She folded her arms, watching me like a hawk waiting for its prey to make a move.

I shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest defensively. “No. I’m not goin’ up to him. That’s insane.”

Lacey sighed dramatically, leaning back against the booth with a knowing look. “He’s been following us for a while, sweet pea, and his eyes are ON you. He’s definitely into you.”

I blinked, my stomach flipping at her words. “What?” I asked, my voice shaky. The thought of Benny following us sent a shiver down my spine, though I wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else entirely.

Natalie nodded, giggling as she recalled the day’s events. “When we came out of the picture show and were crossin’ the street, he was there at the stop sign. He was eyeing you like a kid at a candy store.”

I blinked again, my blush deepening as the pieces started to fit together. “He’s been following us?” My voice rose with a mix of surprise and something I couldn’t quite place.

Lacey shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing with the motion. “Not like that. But we’ve crossed paths with him more than a few times today. And he’s been parked outside the diner for an hour just starin’ at yah.”

“You guys don’t think that’s WEIRD?” I questioned, my disbelief spilling over. I couldn’t fathom why a guy like Benny Cross, with his effortless bad-boy charm and those piercing blue eyes, would spend his time watching me. It didn’t make sense.

They looked at each other, their eyes sparkling with shared amusement before they burst into giggles. Lacey leaned in closer, her shoulder bumping against mine. “Sweetie, some men know what they want, and when they do, they go for it,” she said softly, her voice gentle but firm, as if trying to impart some great wisdom I had yet to learn.

I glanced back toward the window, my eyes drawn to Benny like a magnet. He hadn’t moved, still leaning against his bike with that same steady gaze locked on me, unbothered by the world around him. There was a quiet intensity about him, something that made him stand out even when he was still. He wasn’t smirking, wasn’t putting on a show. He was just… watching, like he was waiting for something. “He could be starin' at anybody...”

“Then go ask him,” Natalie chimed in, her grin turning wicked, her posture straightening as if she were gearing up for a show. She folded her arms over her chest, watching me like a hawk, her expression smug and self-satisfied, as if she were certain I wouldn’t take the dare. “Come on, sweet pea, prove us wrong.”

Their challenge hung in the air, heavy and charged, pulling at the part of me that hated being underestimated. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, my skin prickling under their scrutiny. They’d never steered me wrong before, but this felt different. My heart thudded in my chest, a frantic drumbeat that echoed their taunts. I wasn’t the type to back down easily, but the idea of walking up to Benny Cross, of meeting those piercing blue eyes up close, sent a rush of anxiety through me.

I looked between my two best friends; their expectant faces lit up with anticipation. Lacey’s blue eyes sparkled with excitement, her blonde curls bouncing as she nodded encouragingly. Natalie, with her dark, sleek hair and knowing smirk, leaned closer, her gaze unyielding, practically daring me to make a move.

Their confidence only made my doubts louder. I didn’t want to admit it, but a part of me was scared. Scared that if I crossed that street, I’d find out Benny was just like all the others—interested until someone better came along. But another part, the stubborn, reckless part, was itching to prove them wrong, to show them that I wasn’t afraid of a guy like Benny Cross.

I bit my lip, my thoughts swirling as I weighed my options. I could stay here, tucked safely behind the glass, hidden in the comfort of my friends’ teasing and the familiar din of the diner. Or I could take a chance, step outside and face whatever waited on the other side of those piercing blue eyes.

Natalie leaned in even closer, her voice dropping to a whisper, full of excitement. “Just go. Ask him why he’s staring. Worst case, you come back, and we buy you another milkshake.”

I glanced back at Benny, still leaning against his bike with that same unreadable expression. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t looked away, and something in his unwavering attention made my heart skip a beat. There was a quiet confidence in the way he stood, like he was waiting for me to make the first move, and that realization sent a jolt of determination through me.

“Fine,” I said suddenly, my voice firmer than I expected. Lacey and Natalie exchanged surprised looks, their eyebrows shooting up as if they hadn’t actually believed I’d go through with it. “But you guys are so wrong,” I added, shaking my head.

Lacey squealed in delight, shimming out of the way to let me pass. I tugged at the hem of my skirt, feeling the fabric flutter around my thighs, and quickly ran a hand through my hair, trying to muster up some semblance of confidence. My boots scuffed against the floor as I made my way to the door, each step echoing the rapid beat of my heart.

Taglist: @storiesfromafan

[saintsenara]

Not disputing you ofc but do you remember the exact line about ron looking like bill perchance? I would love it for referencing purposes

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

and i am afraid that you're getting a more long-winded answer than you may have been hoping for...

male weasleys are split down the middle into two camps, physically:

charlie, fred, and george are described as being short and stocky [although "short" is doing a lot of heavy lifting here, since they're all taller than harry: fred and george shrink when they take polyjuice potion to transform into him in deathly hallows].

the implication - i think - is that charlie and the twins look like molly, who is described several times as short and plump in build. ginny is also described numerous times in the books as short and is said in chapter thirty-three of order of the phoenix to resemble fred and george facially, which, since's she's described in deathly hallows as having her mother's brown eyes - which probably triggered some sort of freudian shudder in harry - means i think we can conclude that this half of the family all look their mam.

[and also that molly is a hottie herself. she often gets turned by the fandom into a fairly sexless being - even though she didn't have those seven children immaculately, did she? - with a strict, prudish vibe. and - to do some discourse for a moment - we all know that the fact that she's described as fat is the direct cause of this. but several men are canonically ready to risk it all for ginny - and it's time we all acknowledged this is because she inherited her bonafide baddie powers straight from molly.]

percy and ron - on the other hand - are, like arthur, described as being tall, thin, and gangly. bill is never explicitly said to be slender, but he is described in the fifth chapter of goblet of fire as "tall" immediately after harry has stated that charlie is short[ish] and broad - which allows us to reasonably infer that he's on the arthur-weasley-skinny-legend side of the family.

and we can also assume - since ron is never said to resemble molly, nor [to harry's great relief] ginny, facially - that his features - his long nose and blue eyes - come from his father, who is also the source of percy's short-sightedness.

and, while harry [the narrative perspective] never says that he thinks arthur is hot - because why would he? - nor percy and ron [although i think it's worth noting that he doesn't consider it ridiculous that both of them manage to pull - and it's never suggested that penelope clearwater and lavender brown aren't cuties] it's actually possible to justify the idea that they are canonically fit using more than pure hot air...

[harry does - obviously - think bill's a babe. he sees fleur checking him out and immediately thinks... same.]

because a very striking narrative choice that the series makes is the idea that all pureblood nuclear family units look identical to each other - which serves as a visual metaphor for the importance of blood-status and lineage within the wizarding world. this is why narcissa malfoy is as pale and blonde as lucius and draco [even though bellatrix and andromeda are dark haired] and why molly is a redhead even though red hair and freckles are stated in the text to be weasley - rather than prewett - traits. harry's resemblance to his pureblood father eases his passage through wizarding society. voldemort's lack of resemblance to his pureblood mother does the opposite.

the weasleys and the malfoys are narrative mirrors within the series - with the fact that ron and draco are both so near-identical to arthur and lucius as to be immediately identifiable as each man's son by anyone who meets them part of this mirroring. it makes sense, then, that since the non-ron weasley children don't have a specific malfoy mirror, the same general principle applies, and the three weasley brothers who are built like arthur also strongly resemble him facially - and that bill also has a long nose [and a long something else, i'll wager!] and a cracking pair of baby blues.

or that if bill is hot, arthur is hot - and therefore if arthur is hot, ron is hot.

[where bill outpaces his brothers, i fear, is that he clearly has rizz - whereas ron's seduction skills are famously weak before he gets his hands on a copy of twelve fail-safe ways to charm witches - i.e. when he cockblocks harry spectacularly by beefing with cho unprovoked about the quidditch team she supports, which always sends me - and percy is... percy.]

[if ron had simply played it cool he could have finessed going to the ball with fleur, and i'll die on that hill...]

[undeadcannibal]

Your honor I'd like to propose an amendment to the 🍆 head cannon post:

Curvature and distinguishing colors, features? Are they darker or the same shade? Lighter? Hair color? Texture? Who's got a lean? 🥎⚾s?

Summary: More requested ‘N.SF.T’ headcanons for Task Force 141, Los Vaqueros, and König~ Part 2 of this post here!

Genre: Headcanons, request(s) Characters featured: Price, Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alejandro, Rodolfo, and König.

Warnings: explicit content!

A/N: Never did I expect for that other post to become as popular as it did. I’m happy y’all enjoy my gross and overly-detailed headcanons. Also, please note, if any of you happen to not like or find any of my hcs to be gross or not what you expected, keep in mind they’re just my headcanons. Don’t take ‘em seriously, dudes. Weird and rude replies will be deleted. ( Gif credit: xxx )

Gaz―

Not much of a curve to it, honestly, he’s pretty straight curvature wise. Distinguishing colors? I’d say his foreskin is the same as his skin tone overall, tip-wise? I’m thinking it’s a bit darker than the color of his lips and flushes an even deeper color when he’s fully aroused, mhm. Hair color of his pubes is dark and also has a some curl and texture to it when he does let it grow out for some time. Balls, too? Hm... I’d say Kyle’s sporting a nice, snug set he prefers to keep smooth and clean more often than not.

Bonus! Kink headcanon is that he adores you paying extra special attention to his balls. Worship them and he’ll be cumming all over your face in no time~

Ghost―

Slight upward curve that stimulates you in the best of ways. IDC what anyone says, man has a mouthwatering cock with a nice flesh-pink tip and anyone can fight me on it. Probably slightly darker than his overall skin tone but not by much. Pubic hair stuff... I’m torn between him being a natural dirty blond or brunet. (I can’t remember where I saw the fanart from, but someone has a headcanon that he bleaches his brunet hair blond and oof, I’m in love, also give him long ass roots since he can’t keep up with his root touch-ups while out on missions) Straight-ish texture to his hair as well, grows pretty smoothly altogether. THIS MAN has a thick vein running down the middle of his shaft, my lord. And finally, for his balls, I’m thinking he’s got a hefty set that he’s quick to push you down to so you can pay them some attention, expect some light tickling from the hair there, too. uwu

Bonus! Kink headcanon is he struggles with being submissive and prefers being dominant the majority of the time due to his trauma. He doesn’t like the idea of submitting to someone -- he’s far too afraid of what kind of consequences it could possibly have for him. This doesn’t mean he’s a sadistic or strict Dom. If anything, he’s hyper aware of your reactions to every little thing he does, also refuses anything hard or physical against you, he detests the thought of causing his partner pain.

Price―

Leans ever so slightly to the right, isn’t too noticeable though. Since he’s circumcised in my previous post, could probably notice a scar that separates light flesh-tone color of his shaft from the faint pink of his tip. Also, despite him preferring to trim his facial hair specifically, I’d see him as going fully natural bush-wise. Man’s got a lovely cushion of brown hair that’s got just the faintest amount of gray speckled throughout. While he looks very textured, I personally think his hair would be soft af. Large set of balls that droops a bit lower now than when he was younger~

Bonus! Kink headcanon for John is - if you’re willing - he’d love to use you as an ashtray when he’s smoking. He’d light up, take a few puffs, than order you to open your mouth so he could tap the ashes off onto your tongue. Ordering you to keep your mouth open so he can see the black and grey specks of ash decorating your tongue before having you swallow.

Soap―

Has just the slightest upward curve to him, definitely jokes it’s great for helping stimulate his partner’s g-spot. Also knows all the best camera angles for top-tier dick pics. Shade darker than his natural skin tone and also has a smidge of hair going up the bottom of his shaft. Doesn’t mind in the slightest though. As mentioned before, he prefers going all natural and doesn’t shave or trim much. Lord, the amount of hair this man has. Has treasure trail, hair thighs, ass, groin, everything. Sorry, I love hairy men, what can I say? Also, when he’s super pent up, his tips turns a deep ruddy shade you love to see every time. Balls are on the larger side with one being slightly smaller than the other, also very sensitive and will have him turning into a whimpering mess if you pay special attention to them.

Bonus! Kink headcanon is he takes every spare chance he can get to take and send nudes and videos of him jacking off. Doing his best to make those sounds you love whilst trying not to get caught by anyone. Those moments are for your eyes and your eyes only~

Rodolfo―

Sobbing because his cock is the same gorgeous shade as the rest of his skin, although can see the head of his cock and his balls being a tad darker. Maybe has a tad lean towards the left. Has trimmed dark hair that feels amazing beneath your fingertips. Balls are a bit on the larger side. Run your tongue over them and his dick will be twitching above your face in no time, also will draw up tight to him when he’s cumming~ Please spread this man’s thighs apart, he’s got beauty marks for days and will fucking tremble if you kiss and run your tongue over them!

Bonus! Kink headcanon is he’s got such a praise kink when it comes to his partners. The hottest thing in the world for him is for him to be showering his partner with compliments, feeling them clench tightly around him as his words register in their pleasured-addled minds.

Alejandro―

Much like Rudy, he’s a beautiful shade of tan all throughout, and his cock head is just as flushed and ruddy when he’s aroused. Much like Rudy, has a lean but his is the exact opposite, veering to  Also is hairy just like Soap, but nowhere near to the same degree. If anything, man’s sporting a thick bush, hairy thighs, and legs. Also another man sporting thick veins throughout the length of him that he’s more sensitive about being touched than he’d like to admit. Large set of balls that do sag a bit but doesn’t mind in the slightest definitely likes to teabag his partner as a result if they allow him to  

Bonus! Kink headcanon for our man is that he’s a sucker for sloppy oral, giving or receiving, but especially receiving. Nothing excites him more than seeing how ruined and messy he can make your face as he fucks it.

König―

Doesn’t really have much of a curve or lean to him, but rest assured he’s got veins for days lining his shaft. And, if you run your tongue along them, he melts on the spot. Perfect male whimpering audio material <3 The color of him is noticeably darker than the rest of him. That, combined with his beautiful sandy colored curls make for a mouthwatering view. Also has large, yet tight balls that are far more sensitive than he’d like. Overstimulate the big guy right now!

Bonus! Kink headcanon is that due to his size all around, he’s grown to have a liking for size difference with his partner being smaller than his. It’s pretty easy given his height, but more so it drives him feral to see his cock bulging his partner’s belly out with every thrust he gives.

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

we've already talked about the limited body types in spop which didn't care enough to give us more than one (1) slightly larger character (spinerella; and as someone pointed out, it's strange that her face is still skinny, despite her being a larger woman).

but as i was looking at the characters in carmen sandiego, another thing i want to talk about is the facial features. specifically the noses.

the nose is quite possibly the most distinct feature a person can have. different nose shapes really help frame a character's face and set them apart from other characters.

and uh, spop..

does barely anything on this side either.

most of the characters seem to have the exact same nose shape, decently long-ish and straight, with the only difference being that some of their nose bridges are slightly more visible.

look at these pictures and tell me they do not have the same nose. and again, diversity isn't just different skin tones. different races and ethnicities have different facial features. and spop doesn't take this into consideration at all.

the only character who seems to have a different nose shape is scorpia, whose nose is larger and slightly hooked (not even hooked, it's just like curving outwards instead of inwards).

and glimmer used to have a slightly shorter button-type nose when she was younger, but in s4, they changed that so her nose looks exactly the same as everyone else's.

and you know, this might seem like a nitpicky thing to complain about, but it's a genuine flaw in character design. the best way to create distinct characters is to give them distinct nose shapes. otherwise they're all practically the same character, just with different hair and skin color. and that's what it seems like in spop, because there's barely any distinction in the characters' other features too, like their eyes and mouths.

and if you want to say that "it's because of the artstyle!" or "they had restrictions!" (which makes absolutely no sense in this scenario, but i've still seen fans use that as a free ticket for any situation) let's take a look at gravity falls, a show that was released 6 years before spop was, was known for getting unnecessary restrictions from the execs for the stupidest reasons, and had a distinct cartoonish artstyle.

oh, would you look at that! they still all have very distinct nose shapes! and unique facial features in general, and even different body types?

and you know, you could say that there are other shows that don't pay attention to facial features just like spop, but i guess the reason why spop specifically bothers me so much is because of the emphasis they put on representing diversity.

if they really want to make the characters look like real people and not like "barbie dolls" as so many of the fans lovingly call the 80s designs, they should have committed to it. they should have done some research on people of color and looked at all the different distinct features that set each race and ethnicity apart from one another. instead they just gave everyone slightly different skin tones and called it a day.

[correctproseka]

Our prsk appearance headcanons that no one asked but

(btw by tan we mean: darker skin tone we didnt think of one specific to most of them)

Ichika: skinny/girl twink, her arms hurt when she carries her guitar her full day. Girl loser /affectionate, also taller than canon. Her hair is straight but thick.

Saki: chubby (she deserves after the hospital time), very visible freckles on her whole body, though she tends to hide it with makeup, and her face is round and with chubby cheeks even while sick. Canon size. Wavy but thin hair which sucks to take care of.

Honami: fat, and strong. More on the tan side, taller than canon, slightly wavy hair

Shiho: average id say? Some light freckles, gets confused with a twink a lot but she's just a lesbian, shorter than canon for funsies, straight hair, very light freckles on her cheeks.

Minori: she's more legs than human, like a fucking deer. /Hj. Gets stronger/chubbier as mmj goes on because she needs to adapt her diet for the amount of energy she's releasing, tan, shes average size, id say canon is good for her, thin and straight hair

Haruka: . Thin for . Canon reasons. However she has some muscles. Pale id say? Also canon height, thick and straight hair.

Airi: muscular, not too chubby for idol reasons otherwise she would be, tan too, slightly bit shorter, thick curly hair.

Shizuku: she looks like a swan and I can't explain it. Thats all, taller than every girl and Tsukasa, slightly wavy but thin hair. Very light freckles on her nose.

Kohane: chubby-ish. Round face, looks like a hamster, same height as canon, straight-ish hair

An: very Lean, not very muscular but athletic like that tiktok archery twink (also random but has done pole dance+street dance classes), tan, she's really fast and eats a lot without gaining weight, which she complains about, also taller than canon, thick and straight hair.

Akito: a little muscular, especially his legs, tan, lots of freckles on his face and shoulders, bit shorter than canon, freckled, thick hair thats slightly wavy.

Toya: twink and pale, his fingers are pianist long and he's very elastic and stretchy somehow. Taller than canon, veery straight and thin hair.

Tsukasa: he looks like a twink but somehow has muscles, tan, his freckles are very visible because of the sun but they're only around the cheeks, wavy hair like Saki.

Emu: chubby/fat, stronger than she looks, same height as canon, straight hair.

Nene: girl twink once again, pale because she does not know what sun is, thin ass hair.

Rui: twink, and also looks like a square, he's taller thsn canon (shorter than rui) but slouches a lot, his hair changes on the day tbh, and its a bit longer than canon.

Kanade: extremely thin but after eating nofmally again she goes to average id say? Chubby cheeks though, extremely pale anyways, canon height and straight hair thats thin and frail but it gets better as niigo teaches her how to take care of it. Mizuki also cuts her hair to shoulder height

Mafuyu: muscular, taller than canon (taller than mizuki, tanner than canon too, thick wavy hair, Mizuki also cut his hair.

Ena: chubby, same height as canon and tan, her freckles are only around the nose and cheeks but they're very visible, not as much ws Akito or the Tenmas tho, letting her hair grow and its slightly wavy but she tends to make it straight because she claims its easier, she's also a ginger but dyes her hair

Mizuki: lean, but not as much of a twink as the others, also her legs look long too, grows a bit more than canon, straight hair who tends to try and give it a bit more waves to it.

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Revenant!Jazz ideas:

Continuing from this DPxDC prompt of mine, I’ve had some more thoughts about Jasmine Fenton and Revenants, especially where it concerns DC lore and Jason Todd in particular.

———————-

In my original post, @starlightcat04 asked whether or not Jazz’s eyes would glow toxic green too. I propose that, no, they wouldn’t.

While it’s a common head canon that Ectoplasm is heavily influenced by emotions, Jazz’s Ecto-contamination is bone deep and pure, unlike Jason’s. So no, I don’t believe her eyes would glow green.

They turn from the teal she had in life to a smoldering green that reflects light just like a feline, with a heavily damaged sclera that is perceived as black in low lighting, with ash grey veins spreading from her eye sockets down to her jaw like tears.

Her once bright hair turns from a lively orange-ish red to the color of cooling embers.

That which caused her death, a punctured artery is half-way healed by the time Jazz reanimates in the crematorium, so not only is she supposed to be dead still, she also has to be very careful with her movements otherwise she could very well bleed out again before she is fully healed.

What else changes with Revenant!Jazz?

In exchange for a higher mental processing and the high damage absorption of Revenants, Jazz loses most (almost all) of her memories of her life. What she does remember is thankfully not her death, but rather Danny’s, his death scream and ghostly wail overlap in her mind, at times causing severe headaches and nausea.

(According to his wiki page, Jason spent a year in a coma and as an amnesiac vagrant, therefore it’s not entirely without precedent that Jazz wouldn’t keep hers.)

Her Ecto-contamination has to factor in a lot though.

Jason was revived by Superboy-Prime’s Reality Shattering Punch. Jazz was reanimated by her own willpower, aided by Ecto to allow her body to heal and regress the stages of rigor mortis.

———//:///////———-

What does Jazz need to accomplish as a Revenant?

In the original prompt I wrote that Jazz returned to keep Danny safe- broad enough for a prompt, but what exactly does “safe” for a halfa entail?

Let’s list the major threats to Danny’s health, beginning with the obvious: the Ghost Investigation Ward and The Fenton Parents.

The Fentons are capable of tracking Phantom by his Ecto-signature, creating and having created weaponry specifically designed to target the ghost in question, to which they pass that tech on to the GIW.

If Danny remains in Gotham, the ambient Ecto will scramble the tech over enough of a distance, but if Danny were in a line up of three people right next to a GIW agent he’d be clocked almost immediately.

So, the Fentons and the GIW have to go. How does this happen?

The greatest irony I could possibly inflict on these anti-ghosters- becoming ghosts themselves. I won’t go into detail about what my brain jumped to when I thought about that outcome, but let’s just say it was pretty dark.

(And karmically well-deserved.)

#3 on the list depends on where Danny is when Jazz is finished with numbers 1 & 2 on her list.

If Danny is is Gotham and staying there for the long haul, then I believe this girl would take one look at Batman’s rogue gallery and nope them so hard everyone in Gotham gets the sense of their world about to be rocked, but the ones she gunning for the most?

(Joker, Bane, Manbat, Firefly, Madhatter, Riddler…)

They get the sensation that someone just walked over their non-existent graves.

(I got a little gleeful demented imagining Jazz just straight up ripping Manbat’s wings clean off, burning Firefly alive and throwing a detoxed Bane into a crowd of vengeful Gothamites.)

(Jazz learns that Joker killed a young hero with a crowbar and a bomb. She’s fully onboard with turnabout being fair play when it comes to that Pennywise reject.)

(I can’t even begin to list every rogue Jazz cuts down, it she doesn’t kill all of them, just most of their number.)

(Gotham celebrates for weeks.)

(I’m not sure whether or not Jazz kills the four mentioned previously in a couple of nights, one night or over a a few months, but it doesn’t take as long as one might think.)

/://:///////:::/::::///////

What’s next for Revenant!Jazz?

I’m still writing The Regent series, so I doubt I’ll come back to this for a while, but I’ll still be posting ideas and whatnot about Revenant!Jazz. There’s still plenty to explore here, and I have a pretty angst/bittersweet ending for Jazz in mind I want to talk about later.

If you have any ideas to add, please feel free to comment! If anyone does write this, please let me know so I can read it!

[swiss-mrs]

Theater Kid

Rating: PG-13, Pure Fluff, All Major Characters are 18+ (Seniors in HS)

Reader/OC Description: Reader is African American/Mixed. Reader’s Hair is Usually Braided. Body shape/type is not detailed.

Synopsis: Being known as part of the designated nerd squad didn't leave Dave in the best light at school, but some nerds are more acceptable than others, specifically pretty, talented ones. 

Warnings(?): Minimal Adult Language, Not Much Kick-Ass, Just a Whole Lotta Awkward Teenage Dave, Reader’s Parents are described (Mom is Black, Dad is Ambiguous), but They Are Not Explicitly Labeled Biological. Reader’s Parents are Not Together, but They Have a Healthy-ish Parent-Daughter Relationship. Somewhat of a Lengthy Play/Musical Description.

This is written in second POV, but No Use of Y/N.

Musical Soundtrack

Dave stood in the hall, staring at a particular poster on the school's bulletin board. ‘Millard Fillmore High Presents The Hunchback of Notre Dame’. Just underneath the word ‘Staring’, he saw your name listed second. He vaguely remembers seeing the Disney cartoon as a kid and recalls Esmeralda as one of his sexual awakenings, but that was about it. Of course, that's who you were staring as.

Dave was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the jocks who he clearly caught the attention of. As they passed, one of them snuck up behind Dave and threw a basketball at the back of Dave’s head, knocking his glasses right off his face. A chorus of laughter could be heard behind him. Dave rubbed the back of his head, bending down to pick up his glasses. The laughter was cut short by the sound of a loud smack and a rogue basketball.

“Oh no! Are you okay?” A feminine voice rings through, grabbing the attention of everyone in the hall. “You're not hurt are you?” Dave's eyes adjust as he puts back on his glasses and looks over to the commotion, finding the guy who hit him on the floor with a bewildered look on his face. Above him stood you, clutching your textbooks to your chest.

“Uh, yeah, no. I'm cool. Just…tripped?” He replies, looking around as if he'll find the reason he's suddenly on the tile floor.

“Be more careful, stupid.” You say with an innocent pout before walking off, in the direction of Dave. The jock’s buddies and a couple other students laugh at him as he scrambles to his feet. They all continue down their path in your opposite direction. Dave thinks he's hallucinating for a second, but you seem to be waking straight for him. “Are you okay?” Your voice carries a tone different from the one it held earlier. It was softer, genuine. Dave stares at you wide eyed like you've just seen through his power of invisibility. The pause between you was long, long enough for your face to contort further with concern. “Hello?” You wave a hand in front of his face, the other hand still gripped tightly around your books. Dave blinks rapidly for a few seconds. “Wow, he hit you pretty hard.” you say sadly.

“You- You saw that?” He says starstruck. You scoff. 

“Of course. Why do you think I tripped him?” You retort, putting your hand down, letting it fall at your side. Dave stared at you, gaping. There's no way. Not only are you acknowledging his existence, you're talking to him. Not only that, but you also stood up for him. What? “Jeez, I think he might’ve given you a concussion. Let's get you checked out.” You place a gentle hand on his shoulder, turning him slowly and leading him to the nurses office. The short walk there was spent in silence with Dave staring down at you, you occasionally looking up to him with concerned eyes. As soon as you both walk through the doorway of the office, your name rings out from the nurse herself. The graying brunette rounds the corner of her desk and greets you.

“How ya doin, superstar? You alright?” You let out a sigh of a laugh and return her soft smile.

“Hi, Nurse Patty. I'm perfectly fine.” You look up at Dave and pat his shoulder, his eyes still on you. “This guy on the other hand.” You look back to the nurse. “That jerk, Matthew, hit him pretty hard on the back of the head with a basketball. I'm just concerned. Do you mind checking him out real quick?” Nurse Patty glances up at the taller boy.

“Not a problem at all.” She replaces your hand with hers, “Right this way, kiddo.” She says guiding him to one of the private rooms. His eyes continue to follow you as he is led away. Patty notices and calls you over, keeping you from leaving. She sits him down on a bench and starts rummaging through her tool drawers.

“Yes, Ms. Patty?” You reply, coming to her call but staying in the doorway of the room.

“Would you mind staying here for a few while I do his check up?” You open your mouth to protest as the bell rings, announcing tardiness for the current class period. “I'll get you a slip.” She says before you could counter, giving you a knowing look. She holds a suspiciously smug expression on her face. You scrunch together your brows and squint your eyes at her. You don't know what she's up to, but you can't help but let a small smile creep onto your lips. Her aging features were just too cute to decline, her plump cheeks pushed up even further by her grin.

You shrug it off, breaking eye contact with her, and silently make your way over to the metal chair in the corner of the room. You place your backpack on the floor next to you and let your textbooks rest on your lap. You look up to catch Dave still staring at you, but this time his eyes quickly avert your gaze, a warm blush dancing across his face. Patty grabs his attention.

“Alright, hun. I'm gonna do a few tests, just follow as best you can.” She starts, beginning to run through the series of minimally invasive tests. It takes a few minutes, but each chance he got, he would sneak a glance at you. You were sat there, watching him. God, you were just so pretty. Your hair was braided away from your face, the loose braids in the back gathered into a messy bun, a few strands sticking out strategically. You had one braid framing the front of your face, of which Dave desperately wanted to move behind your ear as an excuse to touch your face. You wore black leggings that flared out at the bottom, falling over your dirty and well-loved black and white converse. You had a large black hoodie that was half zipped up in the front. He found it cute how the sleeves of your hoodie constantly fell passed your hands and the legs of you pants seemed just an inch too long, constantly getting caught under the back of you shoes. He mindlessly completed each task he was half paying attention to.

“Welp, seems like you're just fine, young man.” Patty interrupts his trance. “Maybe he's just lovestruck.” She chuckles. Both you and Dave look at her wide eyed, but she pretends not to notice and continues with her tasks. This time when your eyes meet, you both quickly look away with heated faces. She walks out of the room and to her desk. You quickly gather your things and follow suit. You and Dave nearly trap each other in the door frame, neither of you wanting to be left alone in the awkward silence. Dave takes a step back and silently motions for you to exit first, mumbling an apology.

“Alrighty, my dears.” Patty says, eyes still trained down as she scribbles on two pink slips. She looks up at you two, standing side by side on the other side of her desk. She hands one slip to you and one to Dave. “Here ya go!” She looks over at Dave, “If you notice any worsening symptoms, come back to see me.” She turns to you, “Thank you for bringing him in, sweetheart. It was a pleasure to see you as always.” She gives you a sweet smile and wiggles her brows. You squint at her. That was suspicious. Dave mutters a small thank you, and you give her a smile, still squinting at her. You exchange your goodbyes, and you and Dave file out of the office. You both start walking in the same direction to your next class. You look up at him as you walk, his eyes scanning over the pink slip.

“You sure you're alright?” You break the silence. Dave jumps as if he didn't realize you were still walking beside him. His eyes dart back and forth between you and every other thing in the empty corridors.

“Uh- Yeah, I'm ok. Thanks.” He says, subconsciously rubbing the back of his aching head. “It's just a bit tender, but I'll be fine.” He drops his hand back to his side, his hand grazing yours. He flinches away, apologizing. You let out a scoff of a laugh, giving him a curious look. He’s so odd. He continues to avoid your stare as you squint at the side of his head. “Why’d you help me?” The strange question breaks your stare, taking you off guard.

“Uh… well,” It was now your turn to struggle to find words. “That’s a weird question…” You turn your head, looking forward as you two slowly make your way down the empty hall. You shrug, “What was I supposed to do? Just let some jackass be a bully without consequence? Don’t think so.” You raise a brow and hold your head high. You notice out of the corner of your eye that it is now Dave’s turn to stare at your profile. “Why are you so surprised that someone stepped in?”

“No one ever does.” He shrugs. The way that sentence rolls off so easily and nonchalantly pierces your heart, and you glance over to him before switching your gaze to the ground with a heavy feeling in your chest. Dave looks down shyly, running his fingers up and down his backpack straps nervously, “And, you know, you’re, well, you.” You are taken aback. You look up to him with furrowed brows, confused, wondering if you should be offended or not.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You ask. Dave stutters, trying to find the right words.

“Well… I mean... You know... You’re just so… Uh…” He huffs out an uncomfortable, humorless laugh, gripping to his backpack straps for dear life. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.” He lets out a sigh, “You’re just, you know, really pretty, and, uh, kinda popular, and I, uh, I guess it’s just a bit of a shock that someone of your… status?... would give me the time of day, let alone stand up for me.” You tried not to focus on the fact that he just called you pretty. You look down at your feet.

“That’s sad…” You say just above a whisper. You look up at him. “I’m sorry I never stepped in sooner. I mean,” You look back ahead of you, “I’ve never been one to watch idly while douchebags try to run things, but I guess they’re just a little more well behaved when they realize they’re around me.” You shrug and look down, ashamed.

“No, no, no! Don’t blame yourself! I’m not blaming you. I just…” he lets out a heavy sigh, looking down, defeated. “I finally get a chance to talk to you, and I’m really screwing this up right now.” He says out loud, more to himself. He glances over to you, nearly tripping over his own feet when he sees the wide eyed, innocent, kicked puppy look on your face. He quickly steadies himself as you slow to a stop.

“Finally get to talk to me?” you look up at him confused. You turn to face him, he does the same. He curses under his breath.

“I need to learn how to keep my thoughts in my head.” He says nervously. “I just, uh… I’ve… admired you?... for, like, a while now.” You avoid eye contact, eyes darting wildly, “I mean, your performances are always so fantastic!” he backpedals, a bit louder than intended. You let out a soft sigh of laughter.

“Well, thank you. I’m actually headed to the theater right now.” You say and point to the door behind him.

“Oh!” He jumps out of the way. He glances through the small window and is met with the sight of some kids in mismatched capes ‘fighting’ with plastic swords. It genuinely looked like an easygoing, fun (and slightly nerdy) environment. Dave felt a small pang of longing in his chest, wishing he had a group to belong to like this.

“Will you come see the musical? It’s the largest production of the year, and we only get to do one of these every two years. It’ll be my best performance. I promise.” You grin up at him.

“Of course!” He says a bit too quickly. “I- I can’t wait.” He says, trying to redeem his everly excited exclamation from earlier.

“Good. I’m excited. Esmeralda is like my dream casting. I have to nail every show. Do her justice.” You look straight ahead with a happy yet determined expression. Dave finds your determination utterly adorable. He looks at you longingly.

“I can't wait.” He sighs out in an almost whisper. You switch your gaze to him and smile brightly.

“I’ll save you a ticket.” Daves brows shoot up. “See you around, Dave.” you say before opening up the door. The class erupts with a chorus of dramatic, accusing ‘ooo’s at your presence, mocking your tardiness. You hold up your pink slip with a smirk, getting a couple of playful scoffs and eyerolls, the class half upset they don’t get to see you get in trouble. Dave stands there even after the door shuts behind you, awestruck. You… You know his name? You know his name!

Dave breaks out of his trance by the sound of the final bell to dismiss class. None of the kids in the theater room actually leave as they all have a theater club immediately after school, but the rest of the classes are soon to empty, flooding the hallway. Dave looks around him, ignored by everyone passing by. His face lights up. He couldn’t think of a better way he could’ve spent his final period of the day than by getting to talk with you alone. He carries a happy grin on his face as he makes his way down the hall to meet up with Todd and Marty. You know his name.

》》》

Tonight is opening night. Tonight is opening night! Dave didn’t even bother leaving the school that day. He didn’t even care that he had 4 hours to kill afterwards. He wanted to be the first person in the theater to ensure he had the perfect seat. He even gave a half-assed excuse, so he can ditch Marty and Todd. They already made a comment, questioning him for wearing one of his ‘nice shirts’ to school today. Thankfully, they didn’t see the flowers he hid in his locker. He didn’t need them making fun of him ‘simping’ over the female lead of the school musical.

He spent hours in the school library, reading and rereading his favorite spiderman comic he kept on him. He finished all his homework and eventually moved from comics to doodling in his notebook. He started out by sketching himself in his ‘Kick-Ass’ costume, but his pencil soon switched over to doodling a girl with varying braided hairstyles, even sketching his cartoon version of you with ‘Kick-Ass’, drawing out his dreams of sweeping you off your feet like Peter did with MJ.

His eyes found the clock hanging on the library wall, and he decided it was time to pack up and head down to the school’s theater. Though it was 30 minutes prior to showtime, there were already people gathering by the theater entrance. Some were students, some seemed to be parents. Dave noticed a dark-skinned woman with long straight braids and a hot pink beret talking excitedly to a dark haired man. She was standing and talking with her hands while the man sat on a nearby bench, seemingly ignoring her and focusing on reading through the laminated playbill. “I can’t believe my baby gets to play her dream part in her senior year! My girl is so talented!” She squeals excitedly, causing the man to wince at her loudness. “Aren’t you just so proud of her?” She smacks the man’s plaid sleeve covered arm. He looks up at her annoyed.

“Of course, I’m proud of her. She’s a natural talent, and she’s flourishing. I’m just not as hyper as you.” He quips, almost offended by the question. The woman scoffs and rolls her eyes, killing her mood.

“Boy, whatever. Maybe you should try to be a little less depressed looking.”

“I’m here for my daughter. She knows good and well I am happy for her.” He retorts, going back to busing himself with the playbill.

These were your parents, Dave realizes. His heart pumps hard in his chest as he passes them. It’s not like he needs to go up and introduce himself. It’s not like he’s your boyfriend. Jesus, you couldn’t even be considered friends, barely acquaintances. His panicked thoughts are interrupted by the sliding of the box office shade opening, the student behind the glass announcing the booth’s opening.

A group of 5 students who were obviously together were first to line up and get tickets. Next was your parents. Behind them was a single, balding man with glasses holding a clipboard and tablet, probably someone’s dad? David guessed. Dave lined up just behind him. The line quickly moves up, and he finally gets to the glass. “Just one, please.” He says shyly.

“That’ll be $7, please. Name?”

“Dave? Dave Lizewski.” He says, more so coming out as a question. He reaches in to hand the brunette his cash.

“Oh! Nevermind!” The student says, looking up from her paper. “Here.” She takes a ticket and a playbill, handing it through the hole in the glass barrier. “You already have a ticket saved for you.” Dave’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, taking the ticket from her.

“Th-thanks.” He says shyly. She gives him a kind, customer service-y smile, and he walks off, heading into the theater.

The house lights were warm and dim, just bright enough to find a seat without tripping over anything. Dave noticed the group of friends that were first took up most of the front row, off to the left of the stage. Your parents were 3rd row back and centered. The man he saw earlier was seated at the end of the aisle, not far from the entrance, busying himself on his tablet. Dave decided to pick a happy medium, choosing a seat in the middle, two rows behind your parents. It gave him a perfect view. He was far enough to view the entire stage without straining his neck but not too far that he would have to strain his eyes to see. Perfect.

It didn’t take long for the theater to fill up. The seats right next to Dave remained empty, but besides that, the theater seemed nearly sold out. Dave felt a slight pang of pride. His girl who isn’t quite his girl brought this kind of crowd? Of course she did. She deserves it. The lights began to dim, and the theater began to silence. Slow claps and cheers started as the spotlight grew to show some of the choir students walking onto the stage. They were dressed in old looking robes. As they walked out, they began singing in Latin harmonies. Dave sat back in his chair ready to be fully immersed in the story. He recognized the two boys who came out next as one senior and one junior in the drama club. The spotlight brightened on another senior boy and then two girls, keeping this same pattern as each individual sung their lines.

As the prologue comes to completion, the introduction to an adult hunchback begins. The lyrics strike a chord with Dave. He feels sorry for the character. He’s already fully immersed in the play before you even appear on stage, growing a jealous dislike for the Captain.

The guy who played him was a senior, Andrew Samonsky. A tall and handsome dirty blonde with hazel eyes. He recalls overhearing some of his female classmates gushing over him. He fit this Captain character well, overconfident and a little douchey.

Not long after the Captain’s introduction, you finally appear, popping out of the crowd of actors on stage. You start dancing with your tambourine. Dave’s heart dropped to his stomach. Your usual braided style was replaced by long black and brown waves that fell just passed your waist. He noticed the chunky waves were mixed with braids, giving you what Dave associated with a bohemian goddess look. He sat up in his chair as soon as he saw you, entranced by your dance moves and angelic voice. Your teasing and playful act made his heart flutter.

Soon your first proper solo came, ‘God Help The Outcasts’ you’d sing. The message of the song, your voice, and your emotion nearly brought tears to Dave’s eyes. He was thanking the powers that be in the back of his mind that Marty and Todd didn’t tag along with him. He would never live this down. His heart only wrenched further when your duet with Quasimodo came. Not once in his life had he regretted his decision to quit choir back in middle school, but right now? He never regretted anything more. Dave desperately wished he could be up there with you, sharing these moments, up close and personal.

The entire play was spent with his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. He was focused hard on the story and on your performance, especially at the turn of the story. His chest burned and his brows grew closer together when he realized you, well Esmeralda, were being hunted down for being such an angel, all because some religious, rapey dickhead couldn’t keep it to himself.

When your song with the Captain came, he felt another pang of jealousy, not liking that your story was being driven into a love triangle. He wanted you to end up with Quasimodo. Give him a chance. He needed you to end up with Quasimodo.

Dave was genuinely taken aback when you were caught. Things were no longer looking up, and he didn’t like it. He was frustrated. There’s no way you don’t get a happy ending.

Your next big song came, ‘Someday’. You sang with such sadness. There was this dark and contradicting mixture of hope and hopelessness. Man, Dave was really grateful for his lone attendance. He was really tearing up now. Even though he wasn’t a fan of that Andrew guy getting to hold you, your heartfelt performance was too emotional for him to get taken out of the moment. Even from where he sat, he could see tears welling up in your own eyes. As the song came to a close, Dave took a deep breath, blinking his tears away. He looked around him, preemptively embarrassed for crying in public, but the embarrassment quickly dissipated when he realized he wasn’t the only one affected. Several faces in the crowd were damp with tears of others who let them fall freely. Dave sat back, sighing as he gathered himself. He focuses his eyes back on the stage, allowing himself to get drawn back in by the hunchback’s defeated solo.

Dave resonated with the scared, misunderstood character, but god, he wanted to smack the shit out of him and yell at him to go save you. He watched as you held a brave face, tied to a stake, ready to burn. His body flourished with violent fire. He wanted to kill that creepy ass priest, his leg shaking anxiously as he watched the finale. Finally. He mentally thanked the hunchback for ridding the fictional world of that asshole. His leg ceased its movements and sat idly as the story closed. You were badly hurt, weakened from the flames. You were dying. Dave frowned, quickly losing all anger. All of it was quickly replaced by a wave of sadness as he watches your limp body get lifted up by the hunchback and carried to the back, disappearing off stage. You died.

Dave listened solemnly as the story came to an end. Slowly, the actors on stage filed off the stage in lines as they sang their final melodies. The crowd erupted in loud claps and cheers, giving a standing ovation.

The choir of townspeople and background characters reappeared back on stage first, then the gargoyles, then the gypsies, then the lead fool/gypsy guy, Clopin. After him was the senior who played Frollo, still dressed in his old man get up, then Andrew aka Captain Pheobus. For him, lots of high pitched cheers could be heard, Andrew’s little fanclub. Then, finally, it was your turn.

You came out, walking side by side, down the middle of the stage, with the senior who played Quasimodo. The crowd gave you both a long, loud cheer. He could hear your mother’s, “That’s my baby!” above the rest. It brought a small smile to his face. He joined in, letting out a loud ‘woo!’. Dave never raised his voice, so the sensation was a bit unfamiliar, but he had no regrets and didn’t hold back. He had an overwhelming feeling of pride supporting you. He watched you and the shorter, brown haired boy next to you bow with big smiles on your faces. You took the hands of your neighboring actors and lifted your arms, the entire cast bowing in unison.

The cheers went on as the cast exited the stage and the house lights came back on. As Dave was dead center, he didn’t have anyone waiting on him. He sat back down and waited for his row to empty. He was one of the last people out, your parents not far behind him. He smiled, laughing under his breath, hearing your mother gush over your performance. Even though he couldn’t see him, he could tell your dad was probably trying his best to ignore the woman.

As soon as he makes it outside the theater and back into the halls. He debates on whether or not he should just leave or if he should wait around and see if he can find you. Some of the audience has mostly dispersed, but a few parents and students hang around, waiting for the cast to empty into the halls. Dave comes up with a quick plan. He’ll wait.

He sits on a bench, close enough to spot you when you come out from backstage, but far enough that he can make a quick exit if things start to look like he won’t be welcome. A few feet away, he notices your dad finds a seat on the bench next to the theater, the same one he sat at earlier.

Daves looks down at his backpack and opens it up, pulling out the assortment of flowers he brought you. Thankfully, they weren’t too squished. He sat, bouncing his leg as he waits. About 15 minutes go by, and most of the people in the hall have left by now, their friends and family members already appeared from backstage. The crowd had dwindled down to about 8 people, Dave, your parents, a redheaded girl with an older couple, and two other girls. Dave didn’t realize, but your mom had passed by him a minute ago to use the bathrooms that were just on the other side of him. “Look at all that beautiful hair!” Dave looks up to find your mom walking toward him with a big smile, exiting from the ladies restroom. His brows raise, and he points a finger at himself. “Yes, you. Oh my goodness. I love your curls. You are so handsome, and those eyes!” She holds out a hand towards him but restrains herself from the urge to reach out and touch his hair. She purses her smiling lips, squinting at him. “You don’t have a girlfriend do you?” She asks, pointing at the flowers in his hands. He smiles shyly, her squinting eyes reminding him of you. You definitely must get that habit from your mother. He chuckles awkwardly and shakes his head.

“No, ma’am.”

“And a gentleman, too? Good! My daughter is single, you should meet her. You definitely seem like her type.” She exposes, laughing a little. “She’s a sucker for nerdy boys with curly hair and glasses.” She continues. Dave’s heart flutters, and his shocked expression causes your dad to pipe up. Dave looks over at the older man.

“Leave the kid alone. I’m sure our daughter won’t want you playing matchmaker.” He spares an awkward glance over in Dave’s direction. Dave felt a small wave a calm wash over him. Apparently, your dad also shared a little awkwardness, and it strangely brought Dave a sense of comfort. Your dad wasn’t a stereotype hard-ass that would rather die than let Dave near his daughter. Good to know.

Your mom rolls her eyes at your dad’s comment and continues on with the conversation. “Did you enjoy the show?” She asks.

“Y-Yes, ma’am. It was amazing.” That answer seemed to please her. 

“Right! It was fantastic! My daughter is the lead. I’m so proud of her. Everyone did so well. She has dreamed of playing this role since forever, and she completely nailed it.” Your mom has a proud smile, and Dave breaths out a laugh, nodding in agreement.

“100%. She did wonderful. Definitely deserves to be on Broadway or something.” He says with a smile.

“I agree! She said there was going to be a scout here, scouting for future talents to qualify for a college scholarship. She wouldn’t stop worrying about tonight. To think she was so nervous and she completely nailed it!” Daves brows shoot up, again. That must’ve been who the guy in front of him in line was. A few squeals interrupt them. The two girls Dave noticed earlier jumped up out of their seats and ran up to you as you round the corner. Those must’ve been friends of yours. Dave allows himself to stare now that all eyes are off him. You were makeup free, fresh faced, and your hair was still wavy and long. You had on a pullover hoodie and leggings similar to the ones you wore the other day. They talked loudly of how great you were, causing you to smile wide and laugh. You turn to your dad, and he gives you a big hug. Dave stands as your mom starts walking over to you.

“Good job, munchkin.” He says calmly. Even Dave could feel the warm sincerity in his voice.

“There’s my superstar!” Your mom shouts, next to give you a big hug, rocking you back and forth. “I knew that wet and wavy crochet look would be perfect!” She adds, touching your hair, causing you to roll your eyes with a small smile.

“Mo-om!” you say in a playfully whiny tone. Dave couldn’t help but smile watching your biggest supporters praise you. He stood back as they all talked about the play and how proud and blown away they were at your performance. You seemed busy, and Dave felt as though he might be intruding, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave. Instead, he chose to stay back and wait for his turn patiently.

After a couple minutes, your two friends gave you a quick hug, saying something about catching up with you later before leaving. Your parents, your mom more so, continue to talk about how great you were, your dad checking up on you, knowing how nervous you were prior to the performance. You say some reassuring words to him to let him know you’re okay. Just then, you finally look in Dave’s direction. When you catch his gaze, a bright smile breaks out on your face, nearly melting Dave where he stood. Your dad follows your gaze, noticing you tune out your mother’s words, distracted. He notices Dave, the flowers in his hands, and the shy look on his face. Your dad places a hand on your mothers shoulder, effectively shutting her up as this was out of the norm for him.

“We’ll be waiting for you up front, munchkin.” He says, gently ushering your mom away. She was confused and a bit offended at first, that was until she followed your dad’s gaze, quickly getting the message. She bites back a knowing smile and reiterates your dad’s words.

“Good job, sweetie.” She gives you a kiss on the cheek before they both walk away. As they walked away, another squeal broke out. The redheaded girl from earlier runs up to Captain Andrew himself, jumping into his arms and giving him a kiss, what Dave presumes are his parents walking up to the guy shortly after. Dave refocuses his attention to you as you close the distance between you two.

“Hi.” You say shyly, biting your smile. Dave studders.

“H-Hi.” You two stare at each other for a few seconds before he breaks the trance, looking down at the flowers in his hands. He shoves them abruptly into your arms, the sudden movement taking you aback. You allow your smile to grow as your eyes dart back and forth from the flowers to an awkward Dave.

“Thanks, Dave.” You laugh out in a sigh, biting your bottom lip as you smile down at the flowers.

“Your problem!” He says a little too loud. Your smile falters slightly, and your jaw drops a little.

“What?” You laugh out, confused.

He stammers “Uh, no, uh- shit.” he curses under his breath before letting out an awkward laugh. “I- I, uh, I couldn’t decide between saying ‘You’re welcome’ and ‘no problem’, and it came out as ‘Your problem’. I’m so sorry.” He rambles on nervously, a horrified look on his face. You giggle and shake your head.

“Do you have this hard of a time talking to all girls or just me?” You look up at him with an amused look on your face, trying to contain your smile. He smiles shyly, looking down.

“Technically, all girls, but you’re special.” he sways awkwardly, shifting his weight from side to side, glancing over his glasses at you. You lose control of your smile and allow it to grow so wide it scrunches your nose and narrows your eyes, lighting up his world.

“You know, if you keep making comments like that, I think you’ll break some hearts.” You say, leaning in to nudge his arm with your shoulder. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“I don’t want to break hearts. There’s only one I’m after.” Your brows shoot up, a shocked and impressed expression on your face.

“Wow, you’re a quick learner.” You laugh out. “That’s a good one.” You and Dave share a short laugh.

“Thanks.” He looks back down, all boldness leaving his body. A male voice interrupts your moment, Felipe the Janitor. He’s always been nice to Dave.

“Alright, we gotta start locking up.” The short, chubby man motions for all of you to start heading to the front doors. Dave quickly picks his backpack up from the floor and slides it on, the other four people walking to the front a few feet ahead, you and Dave following not far behind.

“So…” You start, Dave’s eyes finding you, “you got any plans after this?” You ask, looking down shyly at your flowers. Dave shakes his head, shoving his hand in his pockets.

“No, not really. Probably, just gonna go straight home.” he admits, opening the door for you as you two make it out of the front doors and into the crisp night air.

“You gonna catch a ride with your boy, babe?!” Your mom yells over to you from her car, halfway out the driver’s seat. Your eyes widen in embarrassment.

“MOM!” She raises her hands in surrender and sinks back into the car. Your dad could be seen shaking his head in his car, parked right next to hers. You wince and look over to Dave.

“Sorry about that.” You let out a big sigh.

“It’s okay. Your mom is actually really nice.” He says. Your face drops.

“My mom talked to you?” You ask, horrified. He chuckled.

“Yeah, just for a little bit after the show while we were waiting for you.” He held a small smirk, deciding not to bring up the little secret she shared with him about your ‘type’. You close your eyes and shrink a bit, wincing.

“Oh no.” You strain out, with a frown. He lets out another chuckle.

“Nothing bad. I promise.” He looks over at your parents as they wait. “I don’t want to keep them waiting for you. I don’t actually have a car.” He admits. You lose all embarrassment and look at him with furrowed brows.

“You’re walking? This late?” You ask in disbelief. He shrugs.

“Yeah, it’s how I get around.” You scoff and shake your head.

“Yeah, no. You’re riding with me.” You say firmly. “I’m not just gonna let you walk.” Before he can protest, you’re grabbing his arm and dragging him behind you towards your mom’s car. You let go of his arm as soon as you guys are across the lot and in front of your parents’ cars. You walk around to your dad’s driver’s side. He gave you another ‘good job’ and a ‘smell you later, munchkin’. You gave him a quick ‘thank you for coming’ and ‘goodnight’ before walking over to your mom’s car. “Hey, mom? Can we give Dave a ride? He’s on foot.” You tell her, and she is quick to gasp.

“Of course!” She looks at him through the windshield, “Get in, babe!” You look back at Dave as you round the car and wave him over. You get into the passenger’s side, and he sides into the backseat.

“Thank you, ma’am.” She waves a dismissive hand.

“Don’t mention it. What do I look like letting a little boy walk home alone at this time of night. It’s cold out!” She replies. Your dad pulls out of the lot first, your mom following behind him. Your mom turns on the radio, playing one of her favorite CDs, Mariah Carrey’s ‘The Emancipation of Mimi’ album. “Sing it, baby!” She says to you. Dave chuckles from the backseat and looks over at your shrinking form in the passenger seat.

“Mom, please.”

“She used to sing to this album as a little girl right in that seat. Every morning to school. No wonder she’s got such a beautiful voice. She was born singing along to Mariah.” Dave can barely see you anymore. You’re shrunken down so much. Dave can’t help but smile at your embarrassment. You were just too cute. “Are you going to the after show party too or am I taking you home, young man?” Dave looks over the passenger seat to get a better look at you. You look over your shoulder at him.

“After every opening show of our performances, we usually gather at Brandy’s house and throw a bonfire. I was going to ask if you wanted to join earlier…” You trailed off, giving him a look, silently asking if he wanted to go.

“I-I wouldn’t want to intrude.” He says. You sit up properly and turn to face him a bit more.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re welcome to join if you want to. ” You look down shyly, “But, I understand if you’d rather go home. It has been a long day after all.”

“I’ll go.” Dave rushes out. Your mom looks at him through the rearview mirror with a knowing look. You look back up to him with a hopeful smile.

“Yeah?” He nods. “Great!” You turn back around in your seat. “To Brandy’s, mom!”

“You got it.”

The rest of the drive was spent with your mom belting out Mariah as best as she could, you humming some of the songs to yourself as you looked out the window. Dave watched you the whole 15-minute ride there. The only time Dave takes his eyes off you is when you pull up to Brandy’s house. It was a stand alone, two story house, easily a multimillion dollar property. He shouldn’t be surprised, Brandy Radke was a well-known, wealthy kid. “Here we are.” Your mom announces, pulling up right along the curb to let you and Dave out. “I know you will probably catch a ride with your friends after, but let me know when and if I need to pick you up, and don’t get into any trouble.” Your mom calls after you through the rolled down window as you and Dave exit the car.

“Thanks, mom!” You shout back before grabbing Dave’s hand and leading him up Brandy’s front porch. You knock on the door, and an older lady opens the door, yelling your name and bringing you into a tight hug.

“Glad you could make it, leading lady!” The woman releases you and looks over to Dave with a smile, “And who is this?”

“This is Dave. He came to support me tonight, and I thought I’d bring him as my plus one. Hope that’s okay.” You reply. Dave looks down at your interlocked hands.

“Of course! You know we always have extra food!” She moves out of the door frame gesturing for you both to enter. “Everyone is already in the backyard.” You thank her as you pass, leading Dave through the house. Dave looks around as he’s being pulled, enamored by the nice interior. This was moons away from his place. As soon as you two reach the screen door leading into the backyard, loads of cheers could be heard, the group of teenagers chanting your name.

“There’s our Esmeralda!” A strawberry blonde girl with wavy locks down her back stands up and starts walking over.

“Hey Brandy!” You go in to hug each other. Dave misses the touch of your hand as soon as it leaves.

“Who’d you bring with you?” She turns to face Dave with a curious look on her face.

“This is Dave. Dave, meet Brandy.” The green eyed girl greets him. Dave was already well aware of who Brandy Radke is, but, of course, she had no idea who he was, even though they had two classes together.

“Hi.” He returns. 

“Well, make yourself at home, girly!” She gestures, heading back over to her spot around the fire. You start walking over to an empty spot, grabbing one fold out chair and placing it next to another, Dave following like a lost puppy. You take a seat and look up at him with a smile, patting the empty chair beside you. He does as you command and sits down. As soon as he’s sat, Mrs. Radke appears seemingly out of nowhere, startling Dave. She hands a plate of grilled food and a canned drink to each of you before disappearing back into the house to chat it up over a beer with the small group of adults inside.

“Oh, hell yeah.” You say over your food before placing the can in the cup holder of your chair. Dave looks over at you, watching you take a bite. You hum. “I am starving. This really hits the spot.” You giggle shyly when you notice his stare. He smiles, mimicking your actions. He hums as he tastes his first bite, nodding.

“Oh, yeah.” He chuckles. “This is amazing.” You both share a laugh with stuffed cheeks.

An hour passes quickly with Dave watching you interact with your fellow castmates, friends, and friends of friends. Suddenly, someone calls out to him. “So,” He looks over to find none other than Andrew Samonsky looking at him, his arm draped over the shoulders of the redhead from earlier. “Since when was Dave Lizewski into musical theater? I thought you were just a comic and science nerd.” He teases.

“Oh come on. We’re theater kids. We’re all nerds.” You but in, glaring at Andrew with a raised brow. The corners of Andrew’s lips tilt down and he raises his hands in surrender.

“No harm, no foul. I’m just askin’.” You squint at him, daring Andrew to try something. Dave speaks up.

“Well,” He looks over to you, “I was invited to the show,” He pauses before looking back over to Andrew, “and, you know, it would be rude of me not to show.” He concluded.

“Yeah, she saved her one family-friend ticket for him.” A girl adds, he notices her as the one who was running the ticket booth. You were met with a chorus of ‘ooo’s and kissing noises. You shake your head.

“Oh my god, you guys. Shut up.” You roll your eyes and turn your head, looking out to the trees lining the backyard.

“Didn’t your little boyfriend show up, too?” Another kid asked one of the other girls, one Dave recognized as one of the gargoyles. Another round of ‘ooo’s sounded off as everyone got back to talking. You sigh, thankful that the attention was taken off of you two. A sudden wave of confidence hits Dave.

“So,” he says quietly, just enough for you and only you to hear. You turn to look at him. You cock your head to the side, urging him to continue. “Your mom said you like nerdy boys with curly hair and glasses.” He smirks innocently. Your face drops, and you bring your hands up to cover your face.

“Lord have mercy.” You whisper, the words muffled by your hands. Dave chuckles. “I’m so sorry about her.” you drop your hands to your lap. He looks down at your fidgeting hands and fights the urge to grab your hand in his.

“No need…” He pauses, contemplating his next words, “Was- Was she right?” He asks softly, still looking down at our lap. You turn back to the trees, trying to hide your face from him. You were utterly embarrassed.

“What would you do if I said yes?” Dave stills, his long pause feels like a rejection. Your nose started burning. You felt like crying.

“I-” He starts slowly. “I don’t know…” Jesus, he was shit with words. He wanted to punch himself in the face for how bad he was fumbling this.

Your wandering glance at the trees turned into the thousand yard stare, trying to fight your tears off. Dave watched as your hands stilled before gripping tightly to one another. He couldn’t stop himself. Dave reached out and forced his hand in between yours, prying them apart and taking your right hand in his left. He wrapped his fingers around your palm and gave your hand a light squeeze. Your head turned slightly to look at your connected hands. Dave’s heart tightened seeing the nervous and sad look on your face. He sighs. “Look, remember what we established earlier? I’m terrible at talking to girls, and you aren’t just any girl to me.” He ducks down to try and make eye contact with you. “You’re you. You’re the star of Millard Fillmore. You’re going to be a superstar after graduation. You’re- You’re going places, and I’m just… me. Just Dave.” He shrugs. “You deserve the world, so much more than I can give you.” He leans back, still holding your hand. He reaches his other hand up to mindlessly scratch the back of his head. “You don’t know it, but,” He lets out a huff, an awkward laugh. “You’re everything to me, and I- I’m nothing to you. I- I’d just bring you down.” his hand drops to his lap. “You- You don’t want that.” It’s your turn to squeeze his hand.

“Don’t tell me what I want.” You say, determined. You sigh and turn in your seat, facing him as best as you can in your flimsy camping chair. Your eyes dart across his face. “If- If I’m as great as you say, we should try this. Whatever, this,” You gesture between you two, “is.” You pause, sighing. Your eyes flutter in soft, rapid blinks. “I like you Dave. I really do. You’re sweet and cute, and ever since I first saw you walk into our home ec class in sophomore year, I knew, if I had the chance, I’d put on my big girl panties and ask you out.” Dave looked up at you with wide eyes. He could've sworn he was dreaming right now.

The soft glow of the flickering fire danced across your skin, bringing out the richness of your eyes. You looked ethereal. “So,” you started again as you stared into each other’s eyes, “bullshit high school popularity status aside, all fallacies about you aside,” You raise a brow, squinting slightly and giving him a barely there, reassuring smile. “What would you say if I asked you to give me a chance and go out on a date with me?” You searched his eyes. He stared back, surprised at your boldness.

“Yes!” He blurts out, a little louder than expected. Thankfully, the loud conversation and laughter of those around you provided cover, so he didn’t bring much attention to you two. “y-yeah, yeah, yes.” he sighs, trying to calm himself. Your smile grows, bringing light to his world once again. It’s contiguous. He smiles in return, albeit a bit more restrained and shy than yours. You bite your lip, and in the blink of an eye, you lean forward and plant a quick kiss on his cheek. It happened so quickly that Dave thought he hallucinated the interaction. He blinks a few times, eyes following as you lean back in your seat, avoiding his eyes and blushing. Dave’s face breaks out on a huge, dorky grin. He leans down and plants a quick kiss on your cheek as well in a wave of confidence and excitement. Your eyes widen, and you bite back your smile. Dave mimics your posture, slowly leaning back into his chair, but he leans back a little too hard, causing the front legs of the flimsy thing to lift off the ground. A split second heart attack occurs, but thanks to his quick reflexes, he leans back forward and catches himself. You can’t help but lose it, breaking out in a hearty laugh. Once Dave regains his composure, he joins in.

You two laugh like maniacs, stuck in your own little, happy world. You get a couple weird looks from the others, but you two ignore them, painfully happy tears brimming your eyes. Your laughter becomes contagious to the strawberry blonde seated a couple feet in front of you. Brandy shakes her head and turns back to face the fire. “You guys are such weirdos.”

This seems very self insert 😅 but idc. let me be. Hope you enjoyed!

As usual, proper moodboard under the fic tag.

P.S. reader's Esmeralda look is giving Doja/Tinashe 2021 MTV VMAs Red Carpet

[rottencherrypie]

R-18+; Bring a Friend (Kili x Fem!Reader x Tauriel)

Summary - Threesome with Tauriel and Kili.

Warnings - Smut, language, swearing, afab reader, female reader, threesome, mention of female genitalia (reader and Tauriel), mention of male genitalia (Kili), oral (reader receiving), face riding (reader rides Tauriel's face), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mention of squirting (Tauriel), nails digging into skin (reader and Tauriel), creampie (reader receiving), mention of male bodily fluids (Kili), mention of female bodily fluids (Tauriel), slight dom!Tauriel, reader is called pretty, Kili ruining a moment.

Pronouns & POV - She/Her, third-person-ish

Word Count - 2,700+

A/N - I am working on a completely different smut (the one mentioned prior in another post) when I was listening to "Lost in the Fire" by Gesaffelstein and The Weeknd which sparked this idea. (Specifically the line "baby you can bring a friend, she can ride on top your face while I fuck you straight".) I rewrote this several times, and this is the only version I managed to complete (and I finished it a few minutes before one in the morning, so please excuse any typos or grammatical errors). I kept the reader as vague as possible, the only defining features are hair being soft and long enough to able to be tangled in. I could not figure out what to put as a photo for this post, so...cherries? Pure smut under the cut.

Read on AO3 Read on Wattpad

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

The squelching snap of flesh slapping against each other danced throughout the air. A tune that was guided by the steady beat of a wooden headboard thumping against the marble wall, filling the once-silent room with the rhythm of lust.

A melody composed of breathless moans and incoherent whimpers, swaying throughout the air alongside the pace of the creaking bed beneath you. Yet, your melody of pleasure never graced the air.

No, it had been muffled, almost silenced, by the elven flesh that sat upon your face.

The eager elven guard bucked her hips with wild abandon. Her hips rose and fell rapidly as she chased after the patterns of your tongue. Her hands tangled within your soft hair, the soft sting of her fingers pinched at your scalp as she tugged against the strands.

An action which caused more muffled moans to vibrate against her sensitive, dripping cunt. A sensation that was outright heavenly to the guard's wound-up, soaking cunt.

The weight of her skull fell back slightly at the sensations, a blur of fiery hair draping back at her swift motions as she danced upon your tongue. The harmony of her moans grew louder in volume, yet higher in pitch as your tongue lapped at her.

The tang of her wetness filled your mouth as the motions of your tongue grew more eager, seeking out more of her delicious nectar as she bucked against your face wildly. Almost as wildly as her lover bucked into you.

The sensation was a deep stretch as the dwarven prince's throbbing cock pushed in and out of you, carving away at the inner walls of your core. His rough, calloused hands found their way around your soft hips; the tips of his nails digging into your flesh, piercing you the same way his elven lover pierced at your scalp.

A sensation that earned yet another vibration against the elven guard's sensitive, sopping cunt.

The dwarven prince groaned in satisfaction as he felt your inner walls stretching around him, clinging and clenching around his aching cock with each stroke of his hips. The lids of his eyes glued together for a moment as he sunk into the sensation of you around him, his hips stalling for a moment as he tuned into the beautiful melody of pleasure that left the elf's lips.

A memory he yearned to have burnt in his mind for the rest of eternity.

"Fuck..." The breathy whine of a word slipped through his thin lips, allowing a damn of pleased mewls to follow as the speed of his hips returned. His thick cock slowly carved its way deeper into your heavenly cunt, the swollen tip inching closer to the most sensitive parts of your core with each movement he made as he slowly memorized every ounce of your cunt.

The way it stretched around him, the squelch of your wetness each time he pulled back before thrusting in, and most tempting of all -- the warmth of it. Yet, his elven lover cared little for memorization.

The motions of her hips were rapid, nearly leaving your tongue chasing after her dripping cunt as you yearned for a longer taste of her. A far more urgent pace than the dwarf who carved into you. The wet muscle within your mouth began to tire from all the trailing behind her wetness, nearly aching from all the quick laps it was making, yet you did not let up on your eager endeavors.

As you felt the rough grasp upon your hips tighten, you did the same to the elf upon your face. The subtle pinch of your nails digging into the toned flesh of the elf's ass earned a surprised gasp to slip out of her soft lips.

The speed of her hips stalling, now stuttering in place at the sensation of your tongue entering her core. "Shit!" The high-pitched moan rang throughout the room as your tongue swirled around inside of her. Dancing within her inner walls, feeling the welcoming warm tang of her coating your tongue as you feasted upon her sweet nectar.

The weight of her skull began to fall further back at the sensation, her emerald gaze shifting away from her dwarven lover and looping towards the back of her skull as the swirling of your tongue began to tie an all too familiar knot within her core.

A knot you knew too well, as it began to tie itself into you.

A deep groan escaped the dwarven prince's lips as your inner walls clenched around him. The sudden tightness of your core milked his cock with each stroke of his hips. "Gods..." The sensation was hypnotic, eating away at his waning control as the weight of his need lay firm within his hips.

A need that screamed at him, desperate for him to let go and take control. Yet he stayed dormant, too hypnotized by the sensation of your cunt and the song of his elven lover's pleasure to do anything but tighten his grasp upon your hips. The skin on his knuckles straining, turning white from how tightly he grasped at you; how hard he was resisting the urge to lose all control.

The motion of his hips began to slow because of this, as all his focus was on resisting the temptation of ruining you. A desperate whine vibrated against the elf's cunt as you felt his motions gradually slow, nearly coming to a complete halt at moments.

The pressure of his cock pushing in lingered for a few moments, slowly fading as the pull of his cock sliding out, inch by inch, rang throughout your core. Your core tightened around him mindlessly, an attempt by your body to keep him in place, yet it only made the glide of him exiting you all the more pleasurable to him as he backed himself out of you. Only his throbbing tip remained in you, hovering there inside of your desperate, twitching entrance for a moment before he slowly pushed back into you.

Yet, you were not the only one displeased by the dwarf's slowed motions.

As he continued his slow, nearly torturous motions, the motions of your tongue began to slow by extension. The pleasure of the elven beauty on your face began to fade, only the weight and occasional taste of her reminded you of her presence as your tongue lingered inside of her; an occasional swirl to further coat your tongue in her nectar, earning a soft, yet desperate mewl from her soft lips.

"Fuck her harder." The elven guard panted, a command which made the dwarf's smoky eyes open; still glazed over with lust. "When you slow, she slows. Fuck her harder for me." The command was clear and dripped with lust, the heat of her emerald gaze was the final weight that broke the ounce of restraint within the dwarven prince.

It was as if a flip switched within him. A sudden, renewed sense of energy flooded his veins, a fire lighting within his loins as the pace his hips once held grew rapid.

A surprised squeak vibrated against the guard's cunt at the sudden harshness of the dwarf's hips ramming into you, but it was not an unwelcome surprise. Your inner walls opened slightly around him, fluttering at the pleasurable sensation as he carved himself deeper and deeper into you. The tip of his throbbing cock met the most sensitive spots of your core in sudden short bursts.

The melody of skin slapping against each other boomed throughout the room. The soft taps of the headboard against the wall turned to full-blown pounding as the dwarf pounded into you, the bed shifting and creaking with each motion making the elven guard rock slightly upon your tongue.

A tension began to spread throughout your body as you felt a familiar heat begin to spread within your core. The tightness of which your hands clenched around the elf's arse tightened, holding her onto your face as if she was your anchor from drifting away in the sea of pleasure. Tasting her pleasure on your tongue, singing your whines of pleasure into her core.

"That's it." The lids of her emerald eyes fluttered closed, you could feel the subtle shifting of her weight in your palms; her hips mindlessly attempting to match the motions of your tongue, yet you held her firm. "Just like that." The knot within her core began to tighten, fraying at the edges with every flick of your tongue. The taste of her pleasure grew more potent, the aroma of her lust weighing heavy within your nostrils as she inched closer and closer to her sweet release.

A release you had not granted her, slipping your tongue out of her core allowing her wetness to hover meer breaths away from your mouth.

A pitiful whine escaped her soft lips, the lids of her eyes quickly snapping open as the weight of her skull became aligned with her neck. Her desperate, lustful gaze shifted down to your pleasure-filled face. The squelching click of the dwarven prince stretching out your aching core danced throughout the air, accompanied by his soft mewls and whimpers of pleasure.

"Why did you--" The question died upon her tongue, not allowing her time to even ask the entirety of it as the sensation of your tongue slowly lapping up the entirety of her cunt silenced her. The slow, wet glide of your tongue inching up from her entrance caused a tingle to run down her spine. Her toned body quivering at the sensation, the grip she held upon your soft hair tightened further as she felt the wet member slide up to her sensitive bundle of nerves. Slowly circling it.

"Fuck..." The curse was nothing more than a soft breath on her equally soft lips. The weight of her skull returned backward, her gaze shifting up to the ceiling as she sunk into the sensation of your wetness circling her aching clit. The innerness of her womanhood twitched at the electric sensation as her hands knotted in your hair. "Just like that..." The tips of her toes began to tingle, toes curling at the sensation as she cried out those three words.

"Don't you dare stop, neither of you." The command sounded more pleading than dominant as it left her lips. The heat of pleasure spread throughout her body, a fire the three of you shared in.

The heat within the dwarven prince's hips grew hotter, nearly boiling, yet he paid it no mind as his thrusts grew sharper. Each stroke his cock made was sloppy, yet somehow precise. It was as if something triggered within his brain, something deeper, more feral.

It was as if the sweet dwarven prince had faded away, leaving behind a caged beast freed for mating season. The thrusts of his hips grew harder, deeper, the tip of his throbbing cock pounding away at the most sensitive spots within your core, leaving it no moment to recover as he continued to pump deeper and deeper.

A sensation that caused your inner walls to pulsate, fluttering around him as it signaled you were nearing your release. As did the various slews of moans that vibrated against the elf's cunt as your lips found their way to her clit, a suction forming around it as one of your hands releasing its firm grip from her ass, slowly sliding down between her legs, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as the tips of your fingers inched to her dripping heat.

A short gasp fell from her lips as two of your fingers pushed into her aching core, stretching out the trembling walls that yearned for something to return to it. Each thrust of your skillful fingers spread her inner walls further, in a manner she had only known yours to do. The wetness of her coated your digits, the scent of her nectar sure to linger upon them for a while yet you did not care as you continued to pump into her as your lips sucked around her sensitive bundle of nerves.

The sight of his two lovers in the throes of passion, so open and free with their heavenly bodies, made the dwarf's cock twitch within your core. A sight he wished to forever be in his mind, yet this time the dwarf did not stop to savor the moment as he once did. The speed at which his hips held remained consistent, yet he also dropped a hand from your hip as you dropped a hand from the elf's arse.

There was little time wasted from the loss of the dwarf's grasp upon your ass and the connection between his calloused fingertips and your clit. The rough caress of his fingers grazing over your overly sensitive bundle of nerves in repeated, deliberately slow circles was all it took to push you over the edge.

The deep abyss of pleasure welcomed you with open arms, pulling you down further as static began to roam throughout your body. A burning tingling sensation rang throughout your overly sensitive body in waves, your body mindlessly moving in sync with the waves allowing them to sweep the elven guard away as well.

The sensation of your orgasmic moans against the guard's clit could be described as divine vibrations. A sensation that was paired with the rough, sloppy thrusts of your digits frantically pounding inside of her as the waves of your orgasm racked throughout your body. Yet, the thing that threw her in that sea of pleasure was feeling them curl into that spot.

Her nails dug into your skull as you managed to roll her hips into your mouth. "Oh, gods yes!" She cried out as the knot within her stomach snapped, opening the floodgates of her sweet nectar to gush down upon your fingers, trickling down your arm and onto the sheets beneath you.

The sight of his beloved coming undone in the palm of your hand, and the sensation of you coming undone upon his cock was all it took to break the dwarven prince.

The hypnotic sensation of your inner walls pulsating around him was the final siren that sent him over the edge of pleasure, pushing him deep into that same sea that both you and the redheaded elf were drowning in.

"Fuck!" He whined. The weight of his body pressed deeply inside of you, hitting your sweet spot for a final time as he released the burning white ribbons of his pleasure into your soaked cunt. Painting the inner walls white as he flooded you deeply.

The song of pleasure came to an end, as now the following act of uneven pants flooded the air.

The three of you glistened in sweat, bodies trembling from the sensations of pleasure as each of you struggled to fully come back from the depths of that glorious sea.

The weight of your head shifted to the side, resting partially on the elf's inner thigh as you panted against her sensitive clit. The gentle glide of your fingers departing from her dripping core earned a soft whimper from the elf, yet she did not show any signs of displeasure. The air buzzed with a comfortable silence, the cold air flooding your lungs as you released your tight grasp from her arse.

The soft creak of the bed broke the silent buzz as the elven guard slid off your face and slumped next to you. The typically steady speed of her chest was now uneven, rising and falling rapidly as she attempted to steady her breath.

"Gods you two are beautiful." The gruff, breathless sound of the dwarven prince's voice broke the air. An innocent comment that made the eyes of the elven guard loop around her skull.

"And you're an idiot." The elf spoke, her voice still shaky from pleasure. "I must not be that idiotic if I managed to get the two of you in the same bed as me." The dwarven prince proclaimed, his voice dripping with smugness as the corners of his lips curved up in an idiotic grin.

Yet the act was quickly deemed idiotic once it was discovered that the entirety of Mirkwood had heard you three.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[tetraandtheapples]

Quickie Template doodle?????? Got bored halfway so his clothes don't have the same colouring style as his face/hair LMAO

This was my attempt at drawing cornrows first time.......... Ehgh???? Ehh?????????? My issue halfway was that he looked kinda bald but now I'm a bit.... he looks too hairy HEHAHAHA

Based on my discussion with @fishfrypi about Template's hair....... He was the one to first bring up Cornrows and I fell in love guh...... Template's whole deal is that he tries way too hard to NOT be like Error so I think while Error would have wild and crazy afro-ish/dreads maybe (undecided) (hobo core) Template would have this to keep his hair somewhat contained.... (I like to imagine especially whenever Errors get mad/emotionally strong their hair puffs up like static electricity..... This is also a way for Template to keep his hair tucked down LMAO)

Guhhhgh I have a lot more to say so guhhh below the cut.......

Oh yeah. Oh yeah that's right you pressed READ MORE I guess somepony wants to hear about my hair head canons. Head. Like head of hair? Haha geddit??? anyways

INK

Erm so I did actually draw him but I'm not very confident in bald people yet. Anyways spoiler alert he's bald..... More specifically Alopecia Universalis

Yeagh guh..... I think he would wear out a lot of wigs because of this and draw on eyebrows and such. He's never wearing the same wig two days in a row and is always experimenting..... Little creature. They're my favourite.

I think he would wear all kinds of wigs!!! Bright & Bold vs Normal and inconspicuous... depends on how he's feeling!!! Hair is very much an expression of oneself, and Ink has some issues with that I think..... He's a bit disconnected from reality in a way, literally viewing everyone around him as "fictional characters." (I am NOT letting people forget this factoid it's literally my favourite thing about him. I love you Ink)

I think he changes a lot about himself depending on who he's talking to, minus possibly Error who he goes and harasses with all of his weirdness LMAO. And I think the wigs are a way of representing that almost!!! He's an ever changing ball of goo.

Also. The reason why Alopecia Universalis and not just general baldness.... His eyebrows. No hair. He has to draw them on. Eyebrows are probably the main visual way we communicate emotions. Ink has emotion issues. Yeah. I want to kill him too.

DREAMTALE TWINS

Yeah this is going in no particular order just how they pop up in my mind. Also lumping these two together for reasons that shall be explored in a minute.....

These two! My favourites. Twins twins twins..... I love to see them as identical so their hair shall be, too.

I imagine their hair would be brown and a bit curly/wavy..... Trust the process gamers.....

These queens make it seem like their hair is much more clean than it is but no it's probably very dirty covered in twigs and shit. Tree boys.

I'm stuck between how long it should be.... Since they're very young I imagine not that long... But as they get older and Dream and Nightmare drift apart, maybe their hair length changes/differs?

Dream with the villagers gets imposed with male hair standards so it gets cut short, meanwhile Nightmare is neglected (nobody touching stinky demon hair!) and his hair is left to grow long........ More difference in their hair shows their widening relationship oooooooh writing!!!!! Metaphor alert! Metaphor alert! SOS! SOS!

DREAM & SWAN

So yeah uh blatantly stealing the hair apple magic thing from This Post. Because it's a cool concept!!!!!!!!! What the hell!!!!!!!!!! They're my favourites!!!!!!!!

So I think Dream and Swan's hair would look very similar.... With possibly streaks of golden blonde/black respectively. Maybe if you were to really, really compare Swan's hair would be a bit more straight and Dream's more bouncy/curly. (I know I've drawn Swan with total pitch black hair before. But. That was then.... This is the Future....)

And length is where I stumble a bit again!!!!! Because I am. Quite literally obsessed with the idea of Positivity representing stasis/tranquility vs Negativity representing momentum/drive towards change (Both of which are important for a healthy individual!!! I think I should say this.)

However I really really want Swan to have long hair vs Dream having shorter hair. Remnants from their upbringing maybe?

But for Swan is seems less practical to be running around with a whole set of hair... I imagine it would be especially easy for Swad to swoop in and nap him by it, which makes even less sense for him to have it around.... guh

When I do draw him with longer hair I love to image he plats it like so. Keeps it all tucked away under his hood so no Bird man can come in and yoink him away (and leave an obvious patch of burnt hair where he touched it LMAO)

Dream having shorter hair at least makes a little sense in my view.... He keeps it short because its what he's used to... But I also really love the idea of him growing it longer in remembrance of Nightmare and their shared history. He's definitely not as crazy as Swad is about living Dreamtale again! And knows logically that he would never want to subject Night to the abuse that went on behind the scenes..... But he would still like to have his brother back to reconnect and to try and make up for all of it.

Probably something like this?? But more messy?????? Dream to me would seem like a very clean guy but actually is very disorganised and messy. He would roll around in dirt for fun if he could.

So I'm very stuck on their length..... Need to think about it some more. As for facial hair, I do like to think of the twins as generally clean shaven? Not that they shave per say but just don't grow facial hair LOL..... I am definitely not opposed to bearded twins though, I just need to see a beard design I actually like for them before I go fluffing them up HEHAHA.

Hmmm now that I'm actually seeing the hair styles I can actually see Swan wearing the short hair vs Dream with the long...... Maybe I just needed an image guh HEHEHEHE

SWAD

Swad..... My beloved...... My precious..... YOU'RE MY FAVOURITE did you know.

Swad hair I imagine is long as...... However in contrast to Dream's brown-golden hair it's just straight up pure blonde.... Glowing a little, too!!! Hell, I imagine it even floats a little around his shoulders like an aura, or halo of some kind.... ethereal LMAO (I could imagine him maybe with a few brown tips like his original hair colour, but they'd be very unnoticeable..... Maybe when the hair falls out it turns back into it's original colour gehehe)

This is where the twins' hair texture comes in a bit. Because I imagine apple transformative character design magic not just altering the hair colour, but also texture.... Where his hair was once maybe wavy, it's now fully curly.

I also like to imagine his hair is very very frizzy and heat damaged due to his general core temperature being off the charts.... It all curls around him, framing his face (egotist i hate him)

I don't view Swad as somebody who takes care of himself very well. He cares about his appearance, sure, but when actually practicing self care, he's kinda actually the worst.... HEHAHA. He lets his hair grow all long but that's okay because it all floats around him anyway. He doesn't wash it, but that's okay too because any bugs that try to inhabit his scalp instantly combust upon entering a 1m radius HEHAHA. I would be a little worried about sebum, but it's hard to tell.......

Reddit says not to try and evaporate the oils but only because it'll cause heat damage to your hair and skin.... Which wouldn't affect Sol in the first place HEHAHA (hottie!!) So it's hard to say really. Even if his hair was really oily I don't think it would be that noticeable, his hair already shines with or without oil HEHEHE.

NIGHTMARE

Nightmare. Now THIS One. He's my favourite.

Opposite of Swad time baby...... Where the twins' hair was kinda wavy, Swad's is more curly, Nightmare is dead straight..... Like a cloak.

I don't think it even behaves like hair anymore really. You could separate it, but it acts more like a cloak or window blind than actual hair. It sticks all together because of the slime.... Slimey man... His hair is literally "depressed" and flat lol

Like these two images, but DEFINITELY not as shiny...... It's very dull/matte, could definitely camouflage into the darkness/shadows if you didn't know what to expect. As dark and black as you can get with hair.

It's always Dreamtale where I get stuck on long vs short..... On one hand I think long would come a lot more naturally to Nightmare's whole design.... It makes him look less humanoid almost, hiding his form... On the other though, character-wise I could see him cutting it shorter.

I always thought of Nightmare Dreamtale to be a lot more.... royalty oriented than the others. Swad perceives himself as a God, sure, but Nightmare I think need to do little things to make himself feel better/"prove" he is in control of his life.... Him actually cutting it shorter in contrast to how he had his hair longer when he was younger (more weak and pathetic)..... I think it would be neat!!!! But sigh. ilu nightmare

KILLER (Honourable Mention)

Killer. My favourite of them all!!!!!

Okay this one is an honourable mention because I had. absolutely zero opinions about Killer's hair. Until. UNTIL.

Cowsmilkzz's design. Oh my god.

Oh my god

OH MY GOD

Absolute no notes. This is stunning. Killer skinhead was not something I knew I needed until I saw it....... I feel like if I saw Killer walking down the street coming in my direction I SHOULD feel the need to cross to the other side. Please go away. I don't wanna be mugged/murdered. Especially the face tattoo there are absolute no notes. A+++++

They seem to be more active on Insta so like please please pretty please. Go to their Insta and follow them there........ They post other humanoid skeleton art I'm absolutely in love with it's so cool. (I'm decently certain they've got one slot open for a commission!!!!! Wink wink nudge nudge) https://www.instagram.com/cowsmilkzz/ https://www.instagram.com/cowsmilkzz/ https://www.instagram.com/cowsmilkzz/

And yeagh guh. That's all folks........

By the by if you love hair (autism) as much as I do please consider checking out "Sister, dear" by honey_bubbletea33 on Ao3!!! Fem human versions of the characters and it's amazing. I loved it. 10/10 read absolutely worth your time

[lightfeltmemories]

black!reader finds out feitan's hair is actually naturally curly

kind of a small thing when you find out that feitan actually has curly hair naturally and... it's kind of cute :3 this is based off the fact that when curly hair while its straight is exposed to steam and water it curls up ;)

also, spoilers! if you haven't caught up with the manga and especially read chapter 396 then don't read this (the curly hair thing isn't made up btw look it up!) and please do not come in my comments asking "why is the reader specifically black shouldn't this be for everyone!!!??" first of all go to literally any other feitan x reader fanfic on here then you can see content geared towards you and second it makes more sense for the reader to be black so hush.. anyway

tags; x black!fem!reader, this is kinda short less than 500 words so if you want something novel long then idk what to tell you, non yandere feitan, soft-ish feitan (you know how he is), definitely self indulgent don't judge, nothing bad happens tbh it's pretty fluffy and just normal couple stuff honestly but there are very brief mentions of torture and murder and that's all, feitan uses your conditioner xD

------------------------------------------------------------------------

you were currently in the kitchen making dinner while feitan was in the shower, before you met him he didn't shower very often, he always had either a metallic smell of blood or straight up rotting human flesh and it smelled horrible, so, you had to talk him into taking showers at least once a week, you were practically begging this man.

and to your surprise, he actually listened.

it had been only about half a year since you both decided to officially start dating, at first you were a bit nervous that he might torture and eventually kill you like everyone else, but that time hasn't come yet, he's actually a tad bit more open with you than he is anyone else, he's more open to your touch, he'll tease you, purposefully hide things you always use just to see you look for them, you learned that he is quite playful.

dinner was almost done and you heard the water shut off in the bathroom meaning feitan was done with the shower.

you decided to fix his dinner first and yours last so that he can come out with his food already out and ready for him, he had been in the shower for about 40 or so minutes while his food was out and ready for less than 10.

you go in the hallway to check on him and you see him walk out with a tower wrapped around his waist, showing off his fit body, for such a small guy it looked as if he lived at the gym.

but that wasn't what surprised you.

what surprised you was the fact that his hair wasn't straight anymore, he had tight, wet curls!

feitan looked at you, confused by your shocked face.

"what?" he asked you.

walking over to him to feel his wet hair, it was soft... and oddly smelled of your conditioner.

"first of all, i didn't know you had curly hair! and second, did you use my conditioner?"

feitan shrugs at the questions. "maybe i did use your conditioner." he says, walking to the shared room, smiling and closing the door behind you.

"well, hurry it up in there because your dinner is ready!"