#today is a day for headcanons i suppose

[doodlemcnoodlee]

Uh, I might have gotten to hyper focussed on The dark Side of the Moon lol

Anyways enjoy, this is the longest fanfic I’ve written! Very fun :D

The Dark side of the moon had always been something to be hidden like he was a disgrace among men, never worth the slightest whisper of his name beside the venomous words of Luna when he even bothered being awake during Luna's few break from watching over Earth, when their body became tired after slaving away to make sure their orbit was intact and Earth's tilt was just right, he wasn't worth having a name of his very own or even an identity beside “Luna's dark side” always destined to face away from their planet until the very end.

He would never get to share the joy that sparks in the their core as Luna watches over Earth’s inhabitants go about their day, he'd never get to feel the love they Earthlings so willingly give back to their moon for watching over them all those years, thanking the Moon full heartily for stabilizing their seas and for keeping them safe as they dance under the moon filled sky, many Earthlings have loved Luna for billions of years and well continue loving him for billions more, while Earth and him never get the same respect, Earth can keep Luna (for the most part anyways) in the dark of the Earthlings true, statistic nature, but it's him who has to hear Earth's soft whimpers long after Luna has fallen asleep, all while not being able to do a dame thing about it.

He can only slowly orbit as he listen to their planet weep and cry in pain after so many years of abuse, Earth's illusion of grander and endless self-worth being stripped away as soon as the others rest, when there's no one left to judge him for his tears as they could never understand the sharp, piercing pain Earth feels on a never ending basis, his body becoming numb to the pain as the wars continue on and as his very own materials being use to rip apart his surface pice by pice from the selfish men thinking of their own wellbeing instead of the Earthling they so mercilessly killed.

No other planet could begin to understand how it feels, not even Mars who had an Earthling base be set up on his surface, as it's only one compared to billions.

And none of them knew how it felt to be nothing more then a secret side of someone else, forced to watch as other's live the life you always wanted, to be loved and cherish by few but with their love being stronger then hundreds others, being able to feel their planets arms around you, as you rest on their chest, his soft voice lolling you into deep sleep, with no care in the world other then the vibration you feel as they speak to quietly into the night.

Instead he was delegated to being a bystanders in his own body, forced to listen as Earth kisses Luna's face and whispers how much he loves his 'only' moon, being completely unaware of another just waiting to be heard, as he scream for anyone to notice him just for once! Is that really so much to ask for? He just wants to be hear, just wants to be loved much like Luna is, as said moon begin to make friends other than Earth, he wishes for nothing more then to be able to experience the same life as Luna has, as he gets to talk with the other moons and joke around with the rocky planet or when their surface burns, hot at Earth’s teasing Luna about his 'small' crush on Titan, he wishes more than anything to experience the same things! To go through the small yet meaningful experience of being alive, being able to live instead of being trapped in a body he barely even consider his own, he wishes to be something more then a shadow in someone else's life forever delegated to be hidden away, never to be seen by anyone.

———————————————————————

It was like any other night as he drifted slowly around Earth, looking up at shining stars, littering the sky around them, it was probably the only benefits of being awake, instead of trapped in Luna's mind, he could watch them for hours on end, never getting bored of the same old sight, it was truly beautiful after seeing nothingness for so many orbits, up until Luna decided to give up control again, and he was grateful for any change he gets even if it’s mostly for his other side's benefit. He didn't care, as long as he got to see the stars again.

"Luna? Are you still up?" Their planet asked as he looked up at them, rubbing gently at his eyes. He could feel their body grow tense as he felt Earth's eyes stay focused on them, never looking away even for a second.

"I know you're awake Luna, there's no point in pretending you're not." Earth continues letting out a small huff of air as his natural satellite remains silent.

His throat grew tight as panic set in, their planet had never noticed him move during the night before, why now?! Was the change in tides that noticeable as he went off their usual path? "Ugh! Luna, come on! Why are you ignoring me?!" The worry begin to turn into frustrated as the moon refused to answer him, his voice growing louder as he spoke, he could feel the Earth moving closer to them, his core ached with worry, Earth was never meant to find out about him, Luna made sure of that and would be furious if his secret got out, he needed to wake Luna up and fast! But before he could, a warm hand grab harshly onto his arm, unintentionally burning him after so many years of no celestial contact, "please Luna just talk to me! It's fine if you're upset! But we both promise to tell each other our issues instead of bottling them up!" He could hear the desperation in their planet's voice as the moon remained quiet, only after touching 'Luna' could Earth feel the moon's body begin to shake as fear developed his core, he didn't know what to do! What could he do? Luna wasn't waking up and their planet wouldn't let them escape now.

"..."

Silence filled the air as neither spoke, Earth's grip only grew tighter as worry over took any anger he might have had, a quite "Luna?" Escaped his lips, barely audible in the cold night sky, there was no other sound around them beside the soft snores of Mars near by, "are you okay?" He finished, his planet's voice was soft and loving, like nothing he had ever done heard before, at lest not directed at him, his body only shook more as emotion started to swell in his stomach, bagging to be free but instead coming out as small tears dripping down his face, unsure how to act after so long of being relegated into the shadows. "Oh MY GOD, LUNA!" Earth shouted barely being able to catch the small moon before his knees gave out completely, slowly lowering both of them to the floor as Earth hugged the celestial being as it cries rippled through it's body holding tightly onto his planet's hoodie as his tears wet the soft fabric "shh it's okay, everything is going to be okay" Earth now whispered gently in his ear, tucking their silver hair behind it as he did, the planet's other hand rubbing the small circles onto his back, trying desperately to calm the small moon now holding onto him for dear life.

“I-I-I'm not L-Luna!" The small moon cried out digging his face deeper into the planet's hoodie, he could feel Earth's hands stop its rubbing motion and his breathing growing thin against his ear as he pulled away. He could only let out another loud cry as he feared for what's to come, why did he have to say anything? He could have just stayed quiet and let the Earth sing him to sleep just like he heard their planet do too Luna all those times before!

"Uhhh, w-what?" He could hear the confusion in Earth's voice as he spoke. Feeling the tears wetting his hoodie from the small Moon crying harder into his chest, their fingers griping harshly onto the fabric still refusing to let go, Earth cleared his throat with a cough before he tried speaking again "what do you mean? Bring his other hand originally in his hair down to wrap the small moon into a warm hug, he couldn’t help but lean into it no matter how overstimulated it was for him.

"I-I- " the small moon began before a small hiccup interrupted him "I...I-I'm n-no-not Lu-na" his voice was rough after so many years of not speaking to anyone but Luna, making his vocal cords striated and hard to use. "I-I'm h-h-is d-da-ark s-side" even after he finish Earth didn't push him away like he had feared, didn't yell and scream at him like Luna made him believe after so many years to listening to Luna's mind making up every possible out come of Earth finding out about him. Instead the habitual planet arm tighten around him, letting him cry into his chest as he resumed rubbing small circles into his back.

Earth didn't let the silence continue for long before as countless questions began to pop up in his mind "If you're Luna's dark side how come I never heard of you before" their planet asked trying to keep his voice a levelled and quiet as possible as to not scare the small moon again, "how come this is the first time I've meet you?"

"Be-because L-lu-Luna didn't want you too, neither of us did..." he answered, his voice thick as he spoke, turning his head slightly to breath in the cold space 'air' filling his lungs with the fresh air, his brain relax as he stoped suffocating himself with Earth's hoodie.

Earth's brows lowered as he looked down on the small satellite in his lap, listening to their soft breath as they start to calm down, "Why didn't you want to meet me?" He asked, letting the small moon take their time to answer as he continued to rub his back gently.

"Luna didn't want you to hate us for being wired, because we sheared a body, he didn't want me to scare you by randomly showing up one day" his mouth felt dry as he spoke, his voice wavering as he finished, he could feel Earth's warm hands move gently to underneath his chin as he lifted his head to look straight into the moon's eyes.

"Oh, Moonlight, I could never hate you, either of you!" Earth said his eyes were soft and loving just like his voice, making the smaller's core melt like sweet honey in hot tea, as their planet's hands move again to cup either side of the moon's face wiping away any remaining tears off his cheeks, "And how could I ever be scared of such a cute face!" Earth's caring voice made him want to cry all over again as relief floods to his core, all the guilt and hatred he felt being lifted off his shoulders, shoving his face into Earth hoodie, before small tears escaped his closed eyes as HIS planet returned to rub his back gently as the shock of the moon's sudden movement wore off, instead Earth quietly hummed to his satellite, a smile etched into his face, as he looked up at the stars above them, his mind wondering as he thought about his moons, "do you have a name? Earth asked before he was able to stop himself "like Luna" he continued his core aches at the moon freezing in his arms.

A quiet "No." was his only answer as the moon fingers traced down the planet's hoodie, enjoying the soft fabric against his skin and the short distraction from the sinking feeling settling in his stomach, he never like thinking about his lack of a name.

“Would you like one?" Earth asked his voice filled with sorrow, as he tried to comfort the small moon in his arms.

“Y-y-you'd do that for me!" His eyes sparkled in the sun's light looking up at the planet, his hands gripping onto hoodie.

“Of course! but now to find the perfect name…" Earth said, his face became neutral as he lend back making the moon prop himself up on his arms, as Earth let his head fall back in deep thought, letting out a small hum, his mind wonder over all the name the Earthlings have called his little moons over the billions of years they've roamed his surface, but none stuck out as he mouthed each one, until he remembered the perfect choice, the Ancient Greek equivalent of Luna's own name, meaning Light, brightness and gleam and while the small moon doesn't shine in the Earthling sky like Luna dose, he eyes sure as hell do! almost bright then the stars around them.

“I got it!” The small moon's face lit up as Earth spoke hanging on every word that comes out of him mouth, "you shall be called Selene! A name only for the most worthy of Moon!" Earth boated dramatically his head up into the air, crossing one arm around his chest and another resting onto Selene's shoulder almost like he was crowning the moon with a highly esteemed title (and it was in Selene's mind at lest) only stoping his dramatic performance as a poorly muffled laugh filed the air from the small moon, a smile evident in his face, Selene looked away after meeting the planet’s gazes, slightly embarrassed by Earth seeing them laugh so openly, his core never felt so full…

Earth couldn’t help the small smile from reaching own face, he never knew just how much of himself was missing before he met Selene, any upset he felt at the two moons for hiding Selene for so long, were almost forgiven the moment he saw the moon’s face light up with joy as he laughed at Earth’s performance, probably the first time in a very long time (Earth’s core ached at the thought but that was a issue for another Lunar orbit) instead he kept quiet enjoying the moon’s presence before his impulse kicked in, leaning down to press a soft kiss onto Selene’s forehead making the moon freeze in place, Earth wrapped his arms around the moon, pulling him close as Selene melted into his chest, a world wind of a day began to eat away at his remaining energy, slowly getting lolled to sleep as he felt Earth chest softly rise and fall, the planet running his fingers throw Selene’s hair, said moon let his eyes close, drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

[pastelpousay]

Writing a Hadina one shot should be done by Saturday or earlier this week🙈🐺 keep an eye out it’ll be posted here ANYWAYS ENJOY!!

Also I mostly just came here to ramble about Hadina again because I’m depressed 😻 (basically just Hades x Rina Hcs)

⭐️=General 💙=Romantic

⭐️Anyways when Rina is having super depressive episodes or bad days to the point she can’t function well, Hades takes immediate notice and lets her have the rest of the day off

💙 if they’re dating he’ll have her cuddle up with him on his thrown and he’ll have her talk it out if she’s comfortable

⭐️Hades always speaks up for Rina when people pick on her or interrupt her when she speaks. Even if it weren’t much of a big deal he will fucking swing hands about his assistant don’t get it twisted

⭐️if it were done by a god no doubt there’ll be a fight or at the very least words will be exchanged. If it weren’t- say goodbye because you’re already dead💀

⭐️Rina is scared off by roaches and is a bit jumpy around spiders, although she certainly favors them above bugs. But usually Hades will eat kill them 😁

💙if She gets scared by anything else she’ll usually crawl into his bed, or if it’s during the time they share one, she’ll scoot closer to him

💙if he’s awake he’ll probably have her lay on his chest while he chats with her, to calm her down

⭐️Hades loves receiving little gifts from Rina whether it be art, or some sweet letters of appreciation he’ll keep them near his work space for safe keeping (god forbid Rina gets a bit too close to his desk)

⭐️Hades tends to lack personal space, so whenever he gets a bit too close to Rina or even touches her a bit she gets so exited like the little loser she is 😭

💙Rina has a hard time believing that Hades actually loves her so, but she refuses to believe that he would lie to her (if not for her own sake) so she usually won’t fully express that she doesn’t believe him- but he means every single one of his compliments to her and would 100% say them a 100 times over if it would get her believe them.

⭐️Rina likes to make sure that Hades is 100% comfortable with everything all the time and he finds it amusing as hell because she basically uses it as an excuse to see/be near him.

💙Back when hades was crushing on Rina. He actually backed up a little with the personal space because he felt SOOOOO SO nervous to to be by her he literally started flaring the hell up when she does get little bit to close

💙 speaking of which- he loves when she does, even though he’s already warm as hell he loves the feeling of her warm skin on his, it doesn’t matter what color, if it’s scarred, if it was rough and calloused. He just likes the feeling of her.

OKAY IM DONE WITH MY LITTLE HCS I MAY DO ANGST ONES IF I FEEL LIKE IT BUT THESE ARE JUST GENERAL

[bosesmikas]

my lg(b)tqiap+ headcanon of the day: Nikki Velasco from That 90s Show!

[downbad4sylus]

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

synopsis: You and Sylus visit a coffee shop and unexpectedly run into Doctor Zayne.

content: sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; pre-relationship; zayne cameo; just, so much fluff; mostly proofread

word count: ~2k

a/n: see guys, i’m capable of writing not-angst. also can you tell i have a headcanon about them holding hands while linked or what lol. anyway, i love exploring the dynamics of sylus with the other LIs, i have another one brewing ft. our resident doctor (NOT ANGST) and i’ll probably do some with the others in the future. if anyone has anything they want me try and write for them, please feel free to ask, im happy to do so :)

Dragging Sylus out in Linkon City during the day was never easy, but when a certain energy linkage was keeping you locked to each other’s sides and you just had to have your morning coffee, Sylus was a bit more agreeable.

So there you both stood, waiting in line to order. You’d developed a bit of a habit of holding hands as you’d long since grown used to the linkage binding your wrists. Sylus’s hand dwarfed yours, something that took time to get accustomed to, but now the feeling of his fingers laced with yours was a comfort, and admittedly something you often craved without the linkage.

“Will you let me pay for you this time?” you asked Sylus, peering up at him.

He breathed a low chuckle. “Don’t think so, sweetie,” he replied.

“You never let me pay for anything,” you grumbled.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

You tugged Sylus along as you stepped up to the cashier. After placing both your orders (and begrudgingly allowing Sylus to pay), you waited off to the side for your names to be called.

“I’d like to go for a walk after this, if that’s okay,” you said to Sylus. It was overcast today, weather Sylus was more comfortable to be in during the day, you’d noticed.

“That’s fine,” Sylus said. “Where would you like to go?”

You beamed at him. “Actually, there’s a park not far from here, and since the leaves are starting to turn the scenery should be perfect for a—”

“Y/N?”

You whirled around at the sound of your name, spoken by an all too familiar voice.

“Zayne?”

Sure enough, there was your primary care physician, standing with his brow slightly furrowed and his gaze locked on yours and Sylus’s intertwined hands.

“I wasn’t expecting to run into you here,” you commented, drawing his attention from your hand to your eyes.

“This coffee shop isn’t far from the hospital, I stop here in the mornings quite often,” Zayne said. His hazel eyes flicked to Sylus. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “Right, Doctor Zayne this is Sy—uh, Skye, he’s…” you trailed off, panic seizing your mind as you fumbled for any explanation as to why you were here with Sylus, holding his hand, that wasn’t the actual truth.

“Her boyfriend,” Sylus lied smoothly, sticking out his unoccupied hand at Zayne. “It’s nice to finally meet you, doctor, Y/N’s told me a lot about you.”

You missed the nearly imperceptible flare of Zayne’s eyes at Sylus’s answer, too busy short circuiting over the fact that Sylus had just introduced himself as your boyfriend. When had you gone from “besties” to “boyfriend?”

“Nice to meet you too,” Zayne said politely, shaking Sylus’s hand. “Y/N, you never told me you were seeing someone.”

Sylus laughed. “We only just became official.”

You finally managed to regain your composure. “Right, and I haven’t been by for an appointment since then, otherwise I would’ve told you,” you said, bolstering the lie.

Zayne nodded, as if satisfied by your answers. “Well, then I suppose congratulations are in order.”

“Oh, Zayne please, that’s not necessary,” you insisted. A barista called for your orders, which Sylus grabbed and handed to you before taking his own. “Zayne, why don’t you come sit with us? Unless you have important doctor business to take care of.”

Zayne’s lips tilted ever so slightly at your teasing remark. “Sure, I have some time before I have to get back.”

Once Zayne received his coffee, the three of you found an unoccupied table and sat, with you and Sylus on one side, hands still clasped, and Zayne on the other.

“So, how long have you two been seeing each other?” Zayne asked with clinical precision, his stare just as sharp.

“Quite a few months now,” Sylus said. His bright red eyes focused on you. “Y/N practically fell on my doorstep, and I guess you could say the rest is history.”

You snorted, though your cheeks were as red as Sylus’s eyes. “That’s one way to describe it,” you muttered.

“What, sweetie? Would you explain it differently?” Sylus asked, raising a brow.

You shook your head. “No, yours was fine,” you quipped.

“How kind,” Sylus drawled.

You glanced at Zayne and found him watching the two of you with his head tilted. Mirth danced in his hazel eyes, as if observing the “happy couple” was amusing.

“How’s work been, Doctor Zayne?” you asked.

“Fine, the usual,” he answered. “And you? Any injuries you haven’t told me about either?”

“No,” you said firmly. “I’ve been very careful.”

Zayne’s lips curled. “I have a hard time believing that. Skye, has our Hunter been careful lately?”

Sylus’s fingers twitched around yours but his expression didn’t falter. “To everyone’s surprise, she has. No secret injuries to report.”

Zayne made a satisfied hum. “What do you do for work Skye?”

You stiffened. Nothing caused you more anxiety than when someone asked Sylus too many questions. He was a practiced smooth talker, able to craft a believable lie without a second thought, but you still couldn’t help worrying. The last thing you wanted was for him to be recognized, for him to be taken away from you.

Sylus rubbed his thumb along yours soothingly. “I own a few small businesses here and there,” he told the doctor.

“He runs a fruit stall!” you chimed in excitedly.

“That’s one of the few,” Sylus chuckled.

“I had some of his watermelon once at a work function he happened to be catering,” you continued. The very same work function Sylus had called you “besties.” Sylus really was your best friend though, you realized so suddenly your heart practically skipped a beat.

“Well, I’m glad that business is good then,” Zayne said.

You and Zayne then slipped into a casual conversation, catching up on the recent happenings in each other’s lives, while Sylus remained more of a quiet observer.

Actually, Sylus was debating on whether or not to kill (or seriously maim) your primary care physician.

Sylus would never admit to being jealous, but his chest tightened watching you speak to the doctor, hearing the way you laughed at his eerily similar dry humor. He knew you’d been childhood friends and had a long history, but it certainly didn’t help that the way Zayne looked at you was the exact same way Sylus looked at you. And he hadn’t missed the flash of longing in Zayne’s eyes when he’d first spotted your clasped hands at the counter. It was why Sylus had gone out of his way to introduce himself as your boyfriend, even if it meant speeding up his timeline with you a little.

However, Sylus couldn’t deny that Zayne’s role as your primary care physician was an important one, crucial even. He was a renowned cardiac surgeon and an expert in Protocore Syndrome, making him perhaps the only person equipped to help with your heart condition. So Sylus would let him live, because you would be upset with him if he didn’t, and because he was a valuable asset.

Finishing the last of his coffee, Zayne flipped his wrist, checking the time on his watch. “I’m afraid I have to get going now, my break is almost over,” he declared, rising from his seat. “It was nice meeting you Skye, and I’ll see you for your next check up soon, Y/N. No getting hurt in the meantime, okay?”

“Hey! I told you I was being careful!” you exclaimed.

Zayne gave Sylus a withering look. “It’s good to know there’s someone else who understands Y/N’s penchant for danger.”

Sylus recognized the comment for what it was, a white flag thrown at his feet.

Brow cocked and mouth tilted, Sylus picked it up. “Her recklessness knows no bounds.”

“Since when did this become a gang-up-on-Y/N session?” you questioned.

Both Zayne and Sylus chuckled.

“Thank you for the invitation,” Zayne said. “I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.”

“I’m sure,” Sylus replied.

“It was nice seeing you Doctor Zayne!” you called after him as he swiftly took his leave.

You and Sylus left shortly thereafter, going to the park you had mentioned to walk amongst the multicolored trees. The linkage dissipated on the way over, but Sylus never let go of your hand.

And now alone with him, your thoughts spiraled.

You couldn’t deny that you had feelings for him, you had for quite a while. You two had been spending a lot of time together recently, whether it was you frequenting Onychinus’s base and ruining your sleep schedule, or him staying over at your apartment and ruining his sleep schedule. But even so, you weren’t sure if Sylus felt the same about you, and now that he’d so casually introduced himself as your boyfriend, you didn’t know what to think.

“I think I see steam coming out of your ears, sweetie.”

You whipped your head toward him. “Why would you say that?”

He smirked. “You’re thinking very loudly. Tell me, what is it?”

It was hard to deny him when he spoke so softly, something he reserved for you and you alone.

“Why did you say you were my boyfriend?” you asked quietly, averting your gaze.

“Because it was easier than explaining our actual relationship,” Sylus said simply.

“And what, exactly, is our actual relationship?”

His brow quirked. “I was under the impression we were something far more than just boyfriend and girlfriend, unless I’ve misread the situation.”

You pulled him to a stop, gaping at him. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Of course I’m being serious, when have I ever not been?” Sylus tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Have I misread the situation, sweetie?”

It was rare to see Sylus nervous, if that was what you could call it.

You shook your head. “No, I just—I had no idea you felt that way.”

Sylus huffed. “Y/N, I told you that I adore you, that there is no love purer than mine, what else could I have meant by that?”

“I don’t know,” you murmured.

He brought your entwined hands up to his lips, kissing the back of yours. “Talk to me, kitten.”

“Are you saying you love me?” you blurted.

Sylus grinned. “I am,” he said.

“Then say it,” you demanded.

He tugged your hand and you fell into his chest. His free hand threaded into your hair and tilted your head up to look at him, into those mesmerizing red eyes.

“I love you, Y/N,” he said, his deep voice so tender it made your heart flutter.

“Sylus,” you breathed. You reached up and cupped his cheek, tears welling in your eyes. “I love you too.”

He huffed a disbelieving chuckle before pressing the most gentle kiss to your forehead. “We should’ve run into your doctor sooner,” he murmured against your skin.

You reared back, slapping his chest. “Don’t ruin our moment!”

Sylus only laughed in response.

Finally letting go of your hand, he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you impossibly closer. Your own arms twined around his neck, stretching on your tip toes to better maintain eye contact.

“So where does this leave us?” you asked.

Sylus shrugged a shoulder. “Where do you want it to leave us?”

You smiled. “Well, I guess you’re my boyfriend now, even though you never formally asked me to be your girlfriend.”

His lips twitched. “Would you like me to perform a grand gesture?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“All right, kitten, then I hope you look forward to it.”

[aurumalatus]

𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 2.1k

genre/warnings. princess!reader, knight!kinich, slight enemies to lovers (not really, they just argue but idk the term for that tbh LOL), pixelprincess!au

summary.

ever since he became your personal guard, you've found kinich to be a royal pain in your ass. you've always assumed he felt the same, until the night of your matching ball. now, you're not sure what this burning in your chest means after all.

author's note. this is a drabble as part of a universe that i'm calling pixelprincess (knight!kinich x princess!reader). i don't really have a full fic planned for this or anything, i just have a bunch of small headcanons about them and i love aus so feel free to scream about them with me HAHA. thank you for reading! reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬!𝐚𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

If there’s one thing you can definitively say about Kinich, it’s that he’s not stupid.

Honestly, you could say a lot of things. You’ve heard the rumors just like everyone else, about the fearsome Captain of the Guard who passed training within a single day. They whisper that he holds a dragon’s power in his heart, a fact that strikes fear into any nation that dares encroach upon your territory. His reputation precedes him, and he’s somewhat of a mystery to the general public—most of them envision him as a hero, the key to the nation’s defense.

If there’s another thing you can definitively say about Kinich, it’s that sometimes, you wish he was stupid.

The castle always feels larger during the summer, when the sunlight bathes the interior with gold and the halls bustle with movement during the day. Guards and aides rush in every direction, though none of them seem to spare a glance in your direction; there’s simply far too much to pay attention to today.

The maids are replacing the vases with fresh flora, Brilliant Chrysanthemums and Saurian Claw Succulents that make the room seem brighter, discussing which configuration looks the best. You know them all, of course; growing up within the castle meant that these women had practically raised you. Even as an adult, it’s hard to escape them when they feel like pinching your cheeks and reminiscing on old times.

Sensing the coast is clear, you crack the door open another millimeter, carefully slipping into the hall and blending in with the crowd. The maids, luckily, don’t notice, still fussing over petals and stems. You’d calculated this time exactly—right now, the guard patrol should be across the castle, checking the entrances before the ball tonight. If your information wasn’t wrong, then you should have just enough time to make it to the servants’ passages, and then out to the garden—

“Oh?”

The familiar voice makes you murmur some choice curse words under your breath. Of course, the dark-haired man in front of you is always several steps ahead of everyone. He’s leaning against the stone wall, looking entirely too pleased with himself, as if he knows something you don’t.

“Princess,” Kinich greets, bowing his head despite how you wave him off—you’ve never been one for formalities. “What are you doing here?”

“Just taking a walk.”

You move at a brisk pace past him, but Kinich is faster—he always is, the annoying bastard. Before you can turn the corner, there’s the blade of a greatsword blocking your path. No matter how much you see it, you’re always surprised by the size of the damn thing—you’re shocked he can even lift it as it is. A half-smirk rests on his lips when you gasp.

“Taking a walk away from your lessons? I do believe your teacher’s room is in the opposite direction.”

The annoying thing about Kinich is that he truly knows everything, including your schedules. He’s thorough to a near fault, though you suppose that that’s exactly the kind of person who would be fit for Captain of the Guard. Still, you duck under his sword, unwilling to make eye contact.

“Lessons are tomorrow. I have other plans today.”

Kinich falls into step beside you, and the halls are suddenly clear of people—the crowd parts before you, a stubborn rock among a rushing river. You’re unsure if it’s due to your status, or due to your temper—it’s a well-known fact in the castle that Kinich can get you wound up quite quickly.

“And what might these other plans be?” 

He always has too many damn questions, you think. Silently, you curse your father for assigning him to you. A series of attempts on your life last year had made him paranoid, and he’d been quick to promote the strongest knight as your personal guard. Back then, you’d been fooled just like everyone else into thinking that Kinich was some kind of serious, straight-laced hero. Instead, you’d since discovered that he was seriously annoying.

“Can I guess?” he asks, deftly dodging past the maids carrying bundles of tablecloths and the waiters carrying sky-high stacks of platters. 

“No, you can’t. In fact, you can’t even ask. I should have you executed for that.”

Kinich raises a brow, amused. “The Queen would never let that happen.”

And, unfortunately, he’s correct. Your mother absolutely adores Kinich as if he were her own son, and it irritates you to no end—especially when she heavy-handedly suggests that you make him your groom. The door to the back stairwell falls into view, so you break into a jog as you reach the end of the hall, but he’s right on your heel.

If I can just make it to the stairs…

Kinich steps in front of you again, not allowing you an inch further, and you nearly scream in frustration.

“If I didn’t know any better—”

You scoff. “And you, in fact, don’t know anything—”

“—I would say that you’re trying to avoid going to the ball.”

And, once again, you wish that just once Kinich would let something fly over his head.

Utterly defeated, you collapse into one of the plush chairs nearby, fanning your face. Kinich stands over you, a bit tense, as if he thinks you’re going to try to run again. You won’t; at this point, you’re too tired.

“So what if I am?” you finally admit. “You always complain about them anyway. I find it a little unfair that you’re allowed to and I’m not.”

As great as he is at his job as a guard, Kinich isn’t so great at facing the public, despite how popular he is among them (particularly the women). Whenever he can, he avoids social events like the plague, often volunteering to run perimeter duty as a precaution rather than attending with you. You, unfortunately, don’t have that luxury.

Kinich sighs, resting his weight on his sword. “I don’t complain, it’s just annoying when everyone is so loud and—”

You snap your fingers, interrupting and pointing at him accusingly. “You hear that? What you were just doing? That’s called complaining.”

Realizing he was caught in the act, Kinich rolls his eyes. “How very profound of you. If you put that much effort into your escape routes, maybe you would’ve made it this time.”

Your gaze narrows. “How about I stick a profound fist up your a—”

“Kinich? Is that you?”

The booming voice makes you both straighten up instantly. Kinich smoothly sheaths his sword, saluting to the king as he makes his way down the hall. You’re far less graceful about it, gathering up your skirts messily and quickly curtseying to your father. 

“Your Highness,” you both echo.

If your father notices the tension between the two of you, he doesn’t say so; he looks as jolly as always, even more so because of the event today. He’s the social type, a trait you unfortunately did not inherit.

“Just the two people I was hoping to see,” he laughs, a full-bodied sound that booms from his chest. “I’m glad that the two of you get along so well.”

To your irritation, Kinich smirks, while you offer your father a thin-lipped smile.

“Of course,” you lie, sneakily jabbing your guard in the ribs. He coughs. “We get along like a house on fire.”

“That’s good,” your father says, nodding encouragingly. “You’ll both do well later tonight then.”

Your heart drops at the thought of attending the event. You know how long your parents have been planning this, and how long they’ve been practically begging you to find a companion. It’s all a long-winded scheme to find you a princely partner, and not one that you particularly appreciate—a great majority of the princes you’ve met are far too full of themselves. You truly have no interest in any of them.

Kinich, however, pointedly clears his throat at your father’s wording.

“Both of us?” he asks, enunciating slowly. “I’m not sure I follow, sir.”

You perk up in interest—that detail had been lost on you.

“I invited several princes from neighboring nations today,” your father says, eyeing you with a pitying stare. You try not to feel offended. “I want my daughter to find someone suitable for her, no matter who that may be. Still, I was hoping you could attend with her this time? I know it’s not your favorite, but I would feel uncomfortable with her being around so many strangers alone.”

Kinich’s smirk falters, and he suddenly falls still. You wonder if he’s irritated by the prospect of attending the ball at your side. 

(Distantly, you wonder why the thought of that makes you feel a bit ill.)

The silence grows awkward, and you rock on your heels, searching for something to say. Your guard looks a bit lost for words, likely because he wasn’t prepared for so much social interaction today. You can’t really blame him—if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t be thrilled either.

“Actually, Your Highness, that won’t be necessary.”

Your eyes nearly pop out of your skull at Kinich’s reply, but you hurry to control your expression, unwilling to give anything away to your father. The king raises a brow.

“And why is that?” he asks.

Kinich gnaws on his lip, an action that is wholly unlike him—you don’t think you’ve ever seen him appear nervous about anything in his life. Still, he meets your father’s gaze head on, coughs once, then says:

“The princess isn’t feeling well. I think it’d be best if she didn’t attend the ball today.”

He nudges your foot just as your father’s gaze drifts to you, and you thank your lucky stars that you did inherit your mother’s dramatics. You throw a hand over your forehead, fanning yourself aggressively.

“Since this morning,” you explain, looking as pitiful as possible, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Thank the archons Kinich was here, otherwise I might’ve fainted earlier.”

And you really do feel guilty when your father’s eyes well up with tears of worry.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he cries, then turns to one of his aides in a panic. “Call the doctor! Have him attend to her immediately. And announce that she’ll be absent from our festivities tonight.”

You force yourself to hide your smile at his announcement. Your eyes flicker over to Kinich, but for once, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit amused—in fact, he still looks troubled. Your father fusses over you for a bit longer, asking a series of questions about what you’d eaten and who you’d been in contact with. You answer as honestly as you can—the least you can do—and then he directs Kinich to escort you back to your room.

The hallway seems to empty out quickly after that display, and then it’s just you and your guard. For some reason, he seems to avoid your eyes. He doesn’t speak, merely offering you his arm, and after a moment, you take it. 

“So, what changed your mind?” you ask, unwilling to let him sit in silence. He looks displeased by your question, but answers anyway.

“Nothing,” he says, expression blank, “I just didn’t think you should go to the ball tonight.”

The tips of his ears are flushed red, you note. Liar. 

Still, Kinich keeps countless secrets that you’re sure you’ll never know, and you suppose it doesn’t really matter why he decided to let you off the hook tonight. Really, you’re just grateful you’ll get to sleep peacefully with no stinking princes breathing down your neck. The thought makes you smile as you finally reach your bedroom door.

“Well, what a shame it is,” you sigh sarcastically, turning the knob, “I could’ve been dancing the night away with the love of my life. Now I might never meet him.”

The corner of Kinich’s lip twitches.

“As if,” he replies gruffly, a touch too fast. “You wouldn’t like any of them anyway. They’re not nearly capable of handling you.”

Your eyes narrow, irritated by the implication. “And you are?”

He raises a brow in response. “Aren’t I?”

It comes out uncharacteristically soft. A switch seems to flip in the room, and you suddenly start feeling sick for real—it’s too hot, too quiet. Kinich’s stare weighs on you heavily, and you get lost in the depth of it. You freeze where you are, bedroom door half-open, and you can almost pick out the meaning in his words when he turns away, clearing his throat.

“Goodnight, princess,” he murmurs over his shoulder. “Sweet dreams, and…get well soon.”

He makes his exit without another word, and you wonder if he’s still working tonight. Is he still going to guard the ball? The perimeter? What if one of the other princesses takes a liking to him—

You huff, deciding you don’t care and slamming the door shut. The ball is bound to be a drag, and you find Kinich annoying, you think as you fall into bed. You’re happy about this arrangement. Overjoyed, even.

Yes, you find Kinich very annoying.

…Don’t you?

[anakinstwinklebunny]

JAMES KELLY HEADCANONS 🧰

TW: at some point it contains filthy, crazy sexual content, so if you're feeling uncomfortable with it, please do not read

James Kelly who met you during his work. At first he gave you few glances here and there but as you started to appear more often something started to stir in his heart

James Kelly who, from that time, always offered you his services and tried to bargain his friends so they would give him you as his new customer;

From the very first moment James saw you in his workplace, something shifted deep within him. It was a sensation that swept through his heart and stomach, enveloping his senses in a way he couldn’t ignore. Every time you visited the mechanical engineering shop, his ears would perk up at the sound of your sweet, melodic voice. He found himself irresistibly drawn to you, stealing furtive glances as you nervously tried to explain the issue with your car to his friend and coworker.

As the days passed and your visits became less frequent, a hollow emptiness settled in his heart. The absence of your presence left a noticeable void, making him long for your return. His thoughts were consumed by you, turning over the idea of you being his customer rather than just someone who came in occasionally. So, what's better way to make it happen than to persuade his friends to let him take over your case? “C’mon, please,” he sighed, trailing behind Jackson who headed toward the sink.

“james, I’m working,” Jackson replied, turning on the water to wash his hands, a splash of soapy bubbles momentarily obscuring his skin.

James leaned casually against the sink, his arms crossed over his chest, his posture radiating both confidence and a touch of impatience.

“Come on, man,” he said, his tone a mix of desperation. “Just once. I’ll owe you a favor, I swear.” He tilted his head slightly to the side, his eyes pleading in a way that made it clear how important this was to him.

Jackson glanced over at him, a hint of skepticism in his expression. “And what’s in it for me if I agree?”

A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of James' lips. He was on the brink of winning this argument and he loved it. “You name the price,” he said, his voice steady and assured.

Every time you stopped by the shop, James felt a flurry of butterflies in his stomach, as if his entire body were electrified with anticipation. His heart pounded so fiercely against his chest that it seemed to echo in his ears. He didn't understand it. He didn't even know you that much to have some kind of 'crush' on you. But maybe that's the case? Maybe people don't have to know each other so much to be attracted to them. He just wished he'd not mistake himself in thinking about you more as some customer, more as just friend.

Yet it felt like he won a lottery; you were beautiful, seemed so sweet and kind, had a sense of humor.. and the moment you appeared, a wide, genuine smile would spread across his face. He made a concerted effort not to stare too long, but even his best efforts couldn’t entirely tame his wandering gaze.

“Um… hi, is Jackson here?” your sweet voice chimed, cutting through the noise of the shop.

At the sound of your voice, James' heart skipped a beat, just as it did every single time you came around. He looked up from his work, his blue eyes instantly drawn to your figure

“Ah, no, he’s not in today,” he replied, his voice warm and inviting. “Can I help you with something?”

“Oh… he was supposed to check my car,” you said, a hint of disappointment in your voice when you pointed to the black machine behind you

He noticed the subtle disappointment in your voice and gave a small nod, seizing the chance to spend more time with you.

“Well, I’m not doing anything important right now, so I could take a look at it if you don’t mind,” he offered, his tone both casual and eager.

You thought about it for a moment. Jackson's not here, yet he promised to be there, your car in huge need to be checked out, a tall, handsome-looking guy with veiny hands in oil.. “Sure,” you replied, a hint of relief in your voice at his offer. It was important for you. So your car would have a proper care it needs and if someone offers you help and seems genuine about it, why refuse?

He pushed himself up from the hood of the other car he’d been leaning on and looked at you, taking in your slender form once more, your striking (e/c) eyes, and those plump lips that always seemed to captivate him.

“May I get your keys?” he asked, extending his hand in an attempt to appear as nonchalant as possible and forget about the awkward moment

You handed him the keys, and as he took them from your hand, he felt the soft warmth of your skin against his. His gaze followed the gentle graze of your fingers over his palm, which seemed to send a shiver through his body. He swallowed thickly to brush it off. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable and think of him as a perv

“Alright, I’ll take a look at it,” he said, already heading toward your car with a sense of purpose. Over his shoulder, he called out, “And you’re… Y/N, right?” He feigned uncertainty, though he obviously knew your name perfectly well

“Yes, did something happen?” you asked, your curiosity piqued with hint of worry

James inserted the key into the ignition, but he didn’t start the car. Instead, he popped the hood and peered inside at the engine.

“No, no,” he began, his voice thoughtful as he leaned over the opened hood, his tongue briefly touching his lower lip as he considered his words. After a moment, he sighed. “Jackson’s been swamped with clients lately, so he handed off a few to me… and you’re one of them.”

“Oh…” you replied, a bit surprised by the news.

He leaned further into the car, reaching for something under the engine. In this position, he had an unobstructed view of you—one that made his thoughts wander more than he cared to admit. He grasped a specific tool and began working on the engine, trying hard to focus on the task rather than the fact that you were so close.

“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind that it’s me taking care of you,” he said, attempting to lighten the mood. “I mean, not you personally, but… your car.” his tone slightly nervous. Yet to his surprise, you giggled at his awkwardness, the sound bright and uplifting his slightly crashed mood from moments ago

James Kelly who dyed his hair when he found out you like guys with darker hair at the beginning of your relationship (although you were sad that he did it and felt bad for somehow 'pushing' him to this decision)

James Kelly whose evenings often involve hanging out in his garage. It’s where he’s most at home, and he loves having you there with him. You might sit on a stool, sipping coffee while he works, occasionally handing him tools or just enjoying his company as he explains the nuances of car repair in his unique, enthusiastic way.

James Kelly who has a 'mechanic’s touch'. His hands, skilled and gentle from working with delicate engine parts, translate into tender, careful touches when he’s with you

James Kelly who has a soft spot for personal projects, especially ones that involve old, classic cars. He loves restoring vintage vehicles, and he often involves you in these projects;

James' eyes widened in awe as the old car was wheeled into his workshop. It was a vintage marvel, the kind of machine that whispered tales of a bygone era. The worn, weathered metal seemed to glow under the workshop lights, and his fingers twitched with impatience, itching to trace every curve, every detail of the car that had captured his imagination.

“Hell yeah,” he murmured, his voice a low, reverent whisper. A satisfied grin crept across his face as he took in the car's elegant lines and timeless design. “Look how beautiful this baby is.”

You glanced at the car, a little less impressed. “It’s… okay,” you mumbled, your voice lacking the enthusiasm he clearly felt.

His head whipped around to face you, disbelief etched into his features. For a moment, he just stared, as if trying to comprehend how anyone could see this masterpiece as merely okay. Then, with a snort and a roll of his eyes, he let out a soft chuckle.

“Okay?” he echoed, his tone almost incredulous. “This baby is a classic masterpiece. You’re looking at a piece of history, something built with passion and precision. There’s nothing just okay about it.”

His eyes sparkled with excitement as he turned back to the car, already envisioning the work he would do. To him, this wasn’t just a car—it was a labor of love, a chance to bring a piece of history back to life.

"Jimmy," you sighed, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. "I’m just not as into cars as you are."

He felt himself soften at your touch, almost melting into your embrace. But before he could fully surrender to the warmth of your hug, he let out another amused snort. With a gentle hand, he lifted your chin, tilting your face up toward him so your eyes met.

"You’re hopeless," he teased, his tone light and playful. He leaned down and pressed a quick, affectionate kiss to your forehead, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"At least tell me I’m more beautiful than this car," you quipped, your voice laced with a hint of mock seriousness.

He chuckled softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin. His eyes, a deep and vibrant blue, gazed into yours with a warmth that melted your insides. They were filled with soft, gentle affection, a look reserved only for you.

"Oh, doll," he murmured, his voice full of sincerity. "You’re way more beautiful than this car. You’re more beautiful than anything in this world."

You smiled when your lips connected in a soft kiss. Every time he was around you, it felt like fireworks were exploding in your stomach, a rush of excitement that never faded. The sensation of your skin against his, the softness of your form wrapped in his embrace, and the subtle, enchanting scent of your hair—it was all intoxicating. You were his personal addiction, a perfect drug he couldn’t get enough of, and each touch, each kiss only deepening his need for you.

“So…” he murmured, reluctantly pulling away just enough to rest his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck, “…what color should we make this car?”

A playful grin spread across your face. “Pink.”

Anakin chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest although something changed in his expression, “Pink? Really? Not red, orange, or yellow, but pink?”

“Why not?” you shot back with a teasing glint in your eyes.

"It's just… wrong on so many levels. Sorry, baby, but this is not a damn Barbie car," he muttered with a shudder, a grimace twisting his features as if the very thought of turning a classic car pink physically pained him.

"But it'd be pretty," you replied with a sweet smile, undeterred.

He stared at you, still processing the idea that you seriously wanted to paint this car pink. His mind struggled to reconcile the vision of a tough, masculine machine with the image of it decked out in pastel colors.

"This car is supposed to be badass," he said, his tone laced with disbelief. "A tough, masculine car. And you just… want to paint it pink?"

You bit your lip, holding back a laugh, and then smiled up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "A cute, baby pink shade… with glitter and jewels."

His soul practically left his body as you listed all the things you wanted to do to the car. He couldn’t believe you wanted to turn a classic, vintage masterpiece into something straight out of a fairytale.

“Are you kidding me? This is a vintage car, baby, and you want to make it sparkle like some kind of princess carriage?” he pleaded, his voice heavy with disbelief. He let out a long, weary sigh, already feeling the inevitable pull of giving in to your whims. Was he really going to agree to this just because he was hopelessly in love with you and couldn’t bear to see you anything but happy?

“Oh, please!” you chimed in, your tone sweet and persuasive.

He looked at you, a pout forming on his lips, his heart caught in the tug-of-war between his love for the car and his love for you. The way you didn’t quite grasp his distress—and the way you so innocently asked for a pink car—left him unable to say "no" outright.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know that?” he grumbled, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.

Your innocent smile only widened, the sparkle in your eyes growing brighter.

He just stood there for a moment, staring at you, trying to find the strength to resist. But finally, he let out a sigh so deep it almost sounded like a defeated groan.

“i am not going to spend hours trying to make this car look decent in freaking pink,” he muttered, shaking his head. “And I swear to god, if you even mention glitter or jewels one more time, I’ll lock you in this workshop and won’t even think about letting you out.”

“Now that’s rude,” you pouted, crossing your arms

James mirrored your stance, crossing his arms over his chest as well, his gaze fixed intently on you. He raised an eyebrow, feigning annoyance, though the small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips betrayed him.

“Oh, and it’s not rude to demand that I paint this car in the most atrocious color and slap glitter on it?” he shot back, his voice dripping with mock indignation.

“If not this car, then another one? Pretty please?” you countered, your tone softening as you tilted your head and gave him those puppy-dog eyes that always seemed to work like magic.

He let out another sigh, the kind that hinted at resignation, but there was no hiding the fond smile that crept onto his lips. You knew he could never resist when you looked at him like that, with those wide, pleading eyes and that sweet, hopeful tone. It was his kryptonite.

“Which other one then?” he murmured, his voice softening as his resolve melted away completely.

James Kelly who loves to show off his work to you since he feels like you're really proud of him

James Kelly who's your one and only engineering. If anything is broken, you call Anakin. If anything needs repair, you call Anakin. If you have to put new furniture together, you call Anakin

James Kelly whose protective nature extends to ensuring your safety. He would always check your car to make sure it’s in perfect condition;

“jimmy, the last time you checked my car was three days ago. Nothing has happened since that day” you said, watching as he anxiously inspected your car, determined to ensure it was in perfect condition.

He straightened up, his expression serious as he leaned against the car with his arms crossed. His eyes held a flicker of concern, betraying the worry he tried to hide.

“You can never be too sure,” he replied firmly, though it was evident he was slightly exaggerating. He ran a hand through his dark hair, ruffling it as he sighed with frustration.

“I just want you to be safe, you know? Let me take care of the car and make sure nothing happens to you,” he muttered, each word underscoring his deep protectiveness.

“You make me think about riding a bike,” you said, rolling your eyes at his overprotectiveness.

“You’d look hot on a bike,” he responded with a wide smirk, his blue eyes locking onto yours with playful admiration.

“Oh, stop. Just—check the car and let’s go,” you said, trying to cut off the conversation.

“Sure, my lady"

James Kelly ho loved to test his motorcycles he fixed;

James had just finished working on the engine of the motorcycle, his hands smeared with grease and oil stains. He wiped them on a dirty cloth, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. There was something about being surrounded by machines that made him feel like a kid again—pure, unbridled joy bubbling up inside him. His eyes traveled to the shiny, black motorcycle, admiring the way the lights danced across the gleaming metal. His body buzzed with excitement at the thought of taking it for a spin.

“Now, it’s for your safety,” he said firmly, as he carefully placed a helmet on your head. “I’m not risking your health nor your life.”

The very idea of something going wrong on the ride—the possibility of an accident—sent a wave of anxiety crashing through him. His stomach tightened, and his heart clenched with worry. He couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you, not when you meant everything to him. So, even if you were just sitting behind him, he wanted to make sure you were as safe as possible.

He swung his leg over the seat, straddling the motorcycle with practiced ease, and settled in comfortably. With a quick flick of his wrist, he started the engine, the loud, roaring rumble filling the air and sending a powerful vibration through his entire body. “Hop in, pretty girl,” he called out over the noise.

You climbed on behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. The moment he felt your body pressed against his back, and your arms encircling him, a sense of contentment washed over him. The warmth of your breath against the back of his neck sent a shiver down his spine. It was one of the best feelings in the world—having you right there with him, close enough that he could reach out and touch you whenever he wanted.

“now hold on tight, doll,” he shouted over the roar of the engine, his voice laced with excitement, as he revved the motorcycle, ready to take off on the open road.

James Kelly who has little rituals that revolve around his work and you. For example, he would always start his day with a quick text to check in on you, and end it with a call to check if youre alright or just to hear your voice

James Kelly who made matching necklaces for both of you

James Kelly who's a big dog person. He'd very often stop by to stroke local dog (if it doesn't have an owner by itself) or gives food if some are wandering around his workplace

James Kelly who used, to your dissatisfaction, shower gel 3 in 1..and even if you've bought him more suitable and better shampoo, he had never used it due to his opinion that 'his shampoo is better and costs less'

James Kelly who had become completely devoted to you, giving all his attention and heart to you. He would do anything to see a smile on your lips and a sparkle in those beautiful eyes of yours. He'd do anything to make you happy, no matter what's the cost. He'd even go against everything and everyone for you if he'd have to

James Kelly who definitely talks you through it

James Kelly who loves to make love to you (obviously) however he, as much as adores sex in bed, he also likes the thrill of making it in the empty workshop..;

"someone could see us" you - tried to - say between moans, your cheeks flushed pink while you held onto James' arms

As often as he does, James ignores your concern, his eyes locked onto yours as he continues to pound into you with no care in the surroundings. "Shh, just let go, sweetheart. No one's around. We're alone out here". he grabs your hips and starts slamming into you harder, the car hood creaking beneath you.

His breath hitches as he feels your nails digging into his skin, his thrusts becoming even more frantic. He almost takes as his goal to hit this sweet spot of yours like he always does. He leans forward, his forehead pressing against your neck as he speaks in a rough, desperate voice. "Yeah..just like that baby..gonna mark this car with your little pretty body..and--oh god--" he groaned after feeling your walls clench and hug him so deliciously "when we're done..whenever I'll look at this car I'll just see your pretty face, those beautiful legs all spread out and waiting for me--"

James Kelly who has a habit to just have you in his lap, while your naked, and play with your breasts. Enamoured by your deliciously perfect taste, he can't help but trace the puffy skin to delicately spread his saliva all over your nipple before taking it back again for the hundreds of time to his mouth, as if almost worshipping your flavour

James Kelly who would definitely finger you while watching TV;

"So wet for me, baby" his fingers glide over your folds, spreading your slickness around in slow, teasing strokes. "Do you want me to touch you here?" his voice rumbled against your ear

"mhm--"

His grin widens, and he slowly slides one finger inside you, his touch gentle yet firm. "Just one to start, alright baby?" He begins to slowly move his finger in and out, his thumb circling your nub. "You're so tight...you like that? Just one finger?"

He tuts disapprovingly to your nod, slowing down his touch although his tone turns into chiming-mocking. "Eyes on the screen, love". He punctuates his words with a slow thrust of his finger "Good girl.." he praised after seeing you submit to him and to give you a prize, he sped up his touch once more, adding another finger and curving them inward to hit that spot. His actions elicited more gasps and moans from your mouth

"Shh, baby...quiet now". He adds a third finger, scissoring them inside you as he rubs your clit with his thumb. "Gotta hear the dialogue..." He whispered directly to your ear

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @ysrjune (sad about her not being her anymore..) @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[theragethatisdesire]

aot men as dads - headcanon!! some 18+!!

includes: eren, jean, reiner, & levi

i'm still working on some full-fledged one-shots and parts of my series', but i'm nannying for the summer and have BABY FEVER. please enjoy my little headcanons of my fav aot men as dads <3

DISCLAIMER: some of this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

Eren

ok but eren is such a cringe dad lol

buys himself all of the #1 Dad! merch. he’s got mugs, tshirts, hats, all of it, and all of it went on his credit card.

10000% a girl dad. loves all the little dresses and bows; he puts your daughter’s hair in its first bun, nearly tears up when she points at his matching hairstyle and babbles “like da-da!”

you have to parent eren as much as the children. when you turn the corner into the living room where he’s supposed to be having “quiet time” with your toddler only to find that they’re buried in a pillow fort and eren’s signed his own name in crayon on the wall next to your daughter’s scribblings. “babe, we can just repaint it! she’s being creative.”

loves when you’re pregnant. after your first, eren keeps a calendar on the wall marking off the days until it’s safe for him to fuck you again, fuck a baby right back into you. already has a breeding kink before your first. develops a lactation kink after.

TERRIFIED (and i mean terrified) of hurting your little angel. has absolutely zero concept of “cry it out”; if he hears his baby crying, he’s sprinting into the next room, kissing a nonexistent boo-boo.

refuses to admit it but he has no backbone when it comes to your daughter wanting literally anything. she wants it, she gets it.

favorite thing in the world is matching outfits. favorite. “babe, where’s her green hoodie? i’m wearing mine today for the park!” “of course it matters, we have to match! on that note, where’s yours?”

lets your daughter use his hair to learn how to braid. usually has a few pink hair ties or glittery clips sticking out of it when you come home from a mom’s night out.

really big on your baby getting to see the world. drags you on vacation to any place he can think of, even as you try to explain to him that she can’t form any long term memories yet. “but baby, she’ll have pictures. how many kids in her class can bring a picture of them at the eiffel tower to their first show-and-tell?”

accidentally ruins santa and the tooth fairy for your daughter. cries harder than she does over it.

aggressively vets babysitters. ends up settling for a nursing student in the labor & delivery school who’s the oldest of seven children and probably more knowledgeable about child development than both of you combined, but he’s still suspicious.

wants to watch while you push, watch his baby come into the world. you’ve never seen a sweeter sight than eren in his scrubs, crying while holding your baby girl.

Jean

most people picture eren as being the roughhousing dad, but it’s jean, and i will die on this hill.

freaks out every time he drops your first boy while throwing him around like a ragdoll, but he’ll never stop because “listen!! he’s laughing!”. when it comes to the rest of them, he’s experienced enough now to tell the difference between a real booboo and an imagined one, and he simply brushes their little pants off caringly before shouting “now you tackle me!”

jean’s got no gender preference for your first, or the rest of your little brood for that matter. he raises them exactly the same, regardless: tough.

it takes him awhile to get used to the concept of babies’ minds. you’ve walked in on him having full-blown arguments with your shrieking toddlers several times. “what’s not making sense? if you let your goldfish ‘swim’ in the toilet, it dies, simple as that.”

plays “bad cop” for you because you’re terrible at it, but he’s always having to turn around and snicker into his elbow in the middle of scolding because your babies get the same little throbbing forehead vein as you when they’re mad

wants a big family, and gets it. you practically have to drag him to get his balls snipped after your fourth, him reminding you that “it’s reversible!” the entire way there.

the newborn phase is his favorite. he’s rarely home for any longer than ten minutes without scooping your most recent addition into his arms, squishing their little cheeks and marveling at their gurgling noises.

the kids never give him anxiety, but when you’re pregnant??? jean’s a wreck.

“do your feet still hurt, love?” “what do you mean you have indigestion? that could be the baby coming!” “of course we can’t have sex, what if we poke its little head?”

definitely the dad that’s got a delivery bag and a backup bag and an emergency third backup of the backup bag in his car at all times. the first week of your third trimester, he starts watching you suspiciously for any signs of labor, even though this is your fourth together. you think you’ve got it down by now, you tell him, but he won’t listen.

always gets the kids to work together on little surprises for you. every mother’s day they wake you up with breakfast, every valentines day your dining room table is covered in handmade cards, every birthday your kitchen is coated in flour from jean and four little ones attempting to bake

SO HARD to drag him out for a date night. he wants to bring them everywhere: the fancy restaurant, the couples' get away trip

jean's that dad standing in the bar, watching the game, beer in hand, with an occupied baby carrier strapped to his chest

wants to watch during delivery, but he passed out the first go-round, so now he’s content standing up by your head, trying not to turn white as you squeeze his hand hard enough to break.

talks you into just one more on your fourth’s second birthday. “they’re all so big now. don’t you miss it, babe? my baby in your belly? c’mon…” turns out he reversed that vasectomy without telling you

Reiner

another girl dad. hardcore girl dad.

buys his little princess all number of dresses and barbies, is confused when she’s more interested in the baseballs her classmates have.

accidentally raises the most tomboyish, toughest little girl. still babies her, and she hates it.

cries more than you do on your first date night out when you leave her with your mom. forgets to order his entree at the restaurant because he’s watching the baby monitor app on his phone.

definitely the best at splitting baby duties with you. reiner’s up before you most nights when she wakes, grabbing a bottle and cooing at her lovingly even as she screams. you always try to stay awake to watch him on the baby monitor, though, heart melting as his massive arms rock the tiny bundle back to sleep.

all the neighborhood kids love him because of his size. at every cookout, reiner can’t help on the grill because he’s buried in the grass in a little army of toddlers, led by your daughter, shrieking with joy.

always taking pictures. literally always. unflattering ones when you fall asleep breastfeeding, candids at the zoo, eighteen identical pictures of the lock of hair from her first haircut clogging up his camera roll.

can’t be the bad cop. literally ever. he just can’t say no to his little princess, can’t break her precious little heart by telling her that throwing her food onto the floor is bad.

takes your daughter to mommy & me classes with him

DILF DILF DILF. all the moms in the classes swoon over him and gossip about him when he’s not there; much to your annoyance, reiner never notices, insisting that they’re his “mommy friends”.

always sporting a little bit of glitter on his face or a sticker on his back from your daughter

coming from a fatherless background, reiner nearly kills himself trying to be a constant presence in your daughter’s life (you have to remind him that he has to rest too)

never misses an open house night at school, even if it nearly gets him fired. coaches all of her sports teams. literally almost cries when she makes her first soccer goal. actually does cry when she tells you the boy sitting beside her in class called her his girlfriend. full-blown breakdown on her first day of school, so bad he has to stay home from work.

the absolute BEST through your pregnancy and delivery. always cooking your craving of the week, constant foot and back rubs, stays up all night with you for the three days before the birth when you’re just too swollen and miserable to sleep.

holds your hand through the entire delivery, gets in the doctors’ way when they’re performing checkups because “i’m her father, i need to know what’s going on”

Levi

levi never pictured himself as having children, but when your little surprise arrives, blinking up at levi with his own grey, owlish eyes, levi can’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner.

very easily irritated with anyone asking questions about your home life.

when his coworkers ask for your newborn’s name, levi simply says “child.” are you two trying again? “why the fuck do you need to know?”

super overprotective. your baby waves at someone in the supermarket, and levi’s leaning down to explain (in words your eight-month-old can’t yet understand) stranger danger.

totally one of those parents that goes half-crazy trying to get their child into the top-notch, snobby preschool in town.

“we’re not wasting his intelligence on the public school”

levi grew up with basically nothing, so he goes all out buying the best baby products on the market. $2,500 strollers, researching “best baby toys for development”, the whole nine yards.

100% spends months trying to get your child to make a game out of picking up his own toys after playtime, but it never works.

has a meal plan for your child to “optimize nutrition” that you have to sneak around to give your baby little chocolates and junk snacks.

“why are there pringles in his playtime bag? they have no nutritional value.”

vets anyone that comes around your child, even other children. “no more playtime with that evan kid. he’s always got a cold or something.”

he’s always been a light sleeper, but once you have your child, levi snores beside them watching kids’ cartoons on the tv like you’ve never seen him, even drooling as his head lolls, arm tucked tight around your little one.

learned everything he could about labor and delivery beforehand

you almost killed him in the delivery room as he explained each medical detail of your labor symptoms to “reassure” you. he finally got the hint when you threatened to decapitate him.

he thinks it’s shameful, but watching you be a mother turns. him. on. 

wants to take you right there when he catches you breastfeeding, watches you read a bedtime story, spin your child around laughing. you’re just so naturally good at it and it makes him love you all the more, all that love going straight between his legs.

[ilonii]

Prisoner Toji Headcanons - T.F

Prisoner Toji who you met on complete accident. You and a friend thought it’d be a good idea to try out “write-a-inmate”. The pair of you cooked up some letters and prepared to ship them out right up until you unfortunately got cold feet. Your friend, however, was determined to complete the process, sending off both your letters to your respective inmates.

Prisoner Toji, who was absolutely shocked to receive a pink, strawberry scented letter in the mail. The only person who’s ever sent him as much as high five is his son, and even that’s only once in a blue moon.

Prisoner Toji who isn’t really interested in replying until he saw the small polaroid attached to the bottom of the letter. This couldn’t possibly be the person writing to him. You were too young, and far too pretty be interested in writing some 40-year-old man rotting away in a cell.

Prisoner Toji who ends up taking a few extra weeks to write you back. He wants to make sure that he didn’t talk about the wrong things or say something that’d stop you from replying to his message.

Prisoner Toji who doesn’t know how shocked you are to see a letter from the state penitentiary mixed in with your bills and magazine subscriptions.

Prisoner Toji who is delighted to see you’re long-awaited waiting on his bed after an early morning workout.

Prisoner Toji who realizes how much you two have in common. You answered all his questions and even asked him a few of your own. It turns out that you guys like the same shows, enjoyed the same foods, even had a few of the same hobbies (toji had a hidden talent for crochet but shhh, only you need to know that)

Prisoner Toji who after five consistent months of writing each other, finally works up the nerve to ask you to come and see him. He even asked for your number to give you a call and arrange for a date.

Prisoner Toji who almost creams his pants the first time he hears your voice. It’s more perfect than he imagined. Absolute music to his ears. You ended up talking so long he had to threaten a few of the guys behind him just to get a few extra minutes.

Prisoner Toji who absolutely cannot wait to see you. On the day he’s supposed to see you he wakes up extra early, showers longer than he’s supposed to and attempts to actually style his hair for the first time in the five years he’s been incarcerated.

Prisoner Toji who didn’t think you could get any beautiful but stands corrected when he see’s you walk through the doors.

“Hi Toji”

“Hello pretty”

“Sorry If I’m a little nervous, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon”

“Don’t worry, I’m a little nervous myself”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve been locked up five years this is the firs time I’ve seen any outside of sweaty old men; I don’t even think I still know how to talk to a woman”

“Toji you’re so silly, but for what it’s worth I think you’re doing a pretty good job”

“Well thank you, how have you been”

“I’ve been good, I spent a lot of time tryna figure out what to wear today, I wanted to look nice for you.”

“Yeah? Stand up let me see what you landed on”

Did toji really care what you were wearing? A little. Did he really just want to see you get up and spin for him? Absolutely.

“Wow, I think you look amazing. Wonderful choice sweetheart”

Prisoner Toji who makes the best of the next 30 minutes he has with you. Flirting, laughing, cracking jokes. He does it all in the little time he has left.

Prisoner Toji who after you, for the first time in half a decade, really wishes he was out of this hell hole.

border by @bernardsbendystraws

[midnight-els]

It is a truth universally acknowledged that the West Wing would have been even better if they'd had a White House cat. Some headcanons bc I was thinking about it today:

Jed gave the cat a very grand, biblical name. Everyone else has shortened it to something very stupid.

Obviously all of the press and the public adore the cat. There's a minor upset in a polling themed episode when Joey confirms that once again the cat has higher approval ratings than the president. Josh is cross that they are polling on this at all.

There is one chair in the Oval Office that is The Cat's Chair. The staff know not to sit there as you'll get a. covered in fur and b. screamed at by an irate cat trying to force you off. They never warn any of their least favourite congresspeople about this.

The cat wanders around in the background of episodes, often being chased or petted by the extras.

The cat is not allowed in the situation room. The cat is always in the situation room. They had to come up with a special bug detecting protocol for the cat in case anyone tried to take advantage of this.

Ripped from the headlines plot about a congressional investigation into something related to the cat, based on the incident about Clinton's cat's postage.

The cat LOVES Air Force One. The Secret Service do not love having to get him on board or captured to get back off.

Leo and the cat are best friends. They're basically this meme. Leo's the grandma. Jed is the mom.

Aside from Leo, the cat loves the secretaries best. They always have lots of treats for him in their desks. Debbie is the only one he doesn't get on with; she has resorted to using a plant mister to spray him when he tries to get on her desk.

Josh thinks he and the cat are archenemies. The cat hasn't paid more than 2 seconds notice to Josh in his life.

CJ and the cat are archenemies. CJ was very pro-cat until she caught it fishing in Gail's bowl one day. Now she's at war to keep it out of her office. She's still trying to convince Danny to write a piece exposing the cat's dark side to its adoring public. Carol is very tired.

Sam wants so badly to be best friends with the cat. The cat thinks he's trying too hard. Will ends up exactly the same way.

Toby and the cat have never properly interacted and both are very happy to leave it that way.

The cat is supposed to stay in the residence during big events. Abbey stopped enforcing that after he got out and scratched Lord John Marbury when he picked him up against his will.

The cat has a secret service code name. One time, the code names are changed and an overenthusiatic reporter tries to break a story on the first lady's 'unusual activity' by following what he thinks is her code name. It's the cat's. CJ dines out on this for weeks.

The cat occasionally goes missing. The secretaries and Charlie have a recurring B-plot where they have to go and recover him. Somehow, the cat has always ended up somewhere relevant to the A-plot.

The cat properly goes missing after the incidents with the Thanksgiving turkeys and the goat in CJ's office (aka prime cat territory). Each time she claims she'll be nicer to the cat when it returns. Each time it lasts about two days.

Margaret thinks the cat has psychic powers and frequently provides warnings based on her interpretations of 'the signs'. Usually she's right.

The cat somehow makes off with the final edits for the state of the union one time (of course they were only handwritten on one piece of paper). Chaos ensues.

Jed tries to send the cat to Manchester partway through the series. After large-scale outcry from the staff, press and public he is returned to the White House. Unfortunately, after a couple of months as a barn cat he is even more badly behaved than before.

The cat is in both Jed and Abbey's official portraits.

[yan-randomfandom]

First of all, I REALLY LOVE YOUR YANDERE WRITING (especially Yandere gravity falls),I would like to make a request (if I don't order from you), could you make a Stanley Yandere headcanon with more details? 🥹, I really love this old scammer

Stanley Pines x Wealthy!Reader

warnings: bizzare body thoughts at the end!!

a/n: I finally wrote a short story for Stan... Here's a quick one before I get ready for college (I'm already late) Enjoy!! supposed to be Mullet Stan, or js younger [Words: 1201]

💰

Somehow, Stanley Pines managed to get an extremely rich partner. The highest class of the higher class in the social system.

It only took him two dates. The fact that you agreed to a second date was disturbing, especially considering how disastrous the first one had been. He fully expected you to ditch him just for laughs. You didn't, and actually showed up.

Stan seriously wondered if there was something wrong with you. Were you that desperately lonely? Willing to date a broke, unemployed man? Pick up the first person you find?

Yet you showered him with gifts he has never had before in his entire life. You gave him unlimited food. You gave him money and a house.

Guess his flirting skills were just that good. He liked you too, to some extent, but he suspected it's mostly because you're rich.

But, strangely enough, after your two dates, you never really gave him attention again. You were almost never home.

Very rarely you gave him affection like a significant other is supposed to do.

That was fine with him; he didn’t really expect the relationship to last like any of his others. The whole situation was weird enough as it is. As long as he got a roof over his head, he really shouldn't be one to complain... Just make sure it's not a car roof.

It's honestly all just confusing, at most.

And so, he wholeheartedly enjoyed your money, trying to double it and invest as much as he could. Hey, it's free stuff! Not like it'd backfire or anything! If you ignore fumbling that one lottery win because he got disqualified...

Then, one day, Stanley got sick.

You stayed home that same day.

He felt his body shivering, wrapping himself around his blanket like his life depended on it. Head pounding, body shaking, skin sweating. Everything was so uncomfortable.

"You're really burning up, Stan," you murmured, clicking your tongue as you read his temperature. Higher than the usual fever.

Grabbing a cup of water, you tapped him over his layer of blanket. "Please sit up and drink this. I'll give you medicine."

It was too hard for him to move. You gently pulled the blanket from him. When it reached his nose, he made eye contact with you. His eyes were glazed and half-lidded from exhaustion.

"Why are you here?" he grunted, sitting up eventually. "Thought ya forgot about me."

You stared as he drank his water. "What?"

He wiped his mouth. "Eh, nothin'. Must be busy being rich."

"..." You quietly passed him his medicine.

After he took it, Stan ignored your silence and laid back on the bed. Once again, he buried himself under his comforter.

You frowned. "After our second date, I didn't expect my schedule to be so filled. I thought I'd make it up to you by giving you gifts."

A deep chuckle rumbled from the blanket. "It's alright, toots, I'm more curious on why you bothered anyway."

"Why?" you parroted, blinking. "...Oh, Stan."

Stan felt his comforter get pulled again, turning to see your expression. It was quite unreadable, to his dismay.

He almost stopped breathing when you put a gentle hand on his cheek.

"Believe it or not, I do like you," you rubbed a thumb across his hot skin, "I'm so sorry. We'll have more bonding time when you get better, okay? I dropped everything today to take care of you, and I promise I'll do it again."

Stan's vision blurred. He quickly blinked away the tears, trying to turn away from you.

"I don't deserve that. You do know I was after your money, right?"

You chuckled. "I knew that. Don't we all?"

He pursed his lips. "Wait, seriously? Then why'd you date me?"

"I don't know," you shrugged, pulling your hand away from him. He missed your touch already. "But I don't regret it."

"What do you even see in me? I sure as hell don't know. Unless..." his eyes widened, "You're trying to—"

Your face heated up immensely with furrowed eyebrows, shaking your head. "Of course not! I would never! Please don't ever mention that again??"

He laughed, yet it sounded throaty and scratchy. You smiled anyway at the fact he got to smile.

...

"...Permission to kiss you?" you asked.

...

You cringed internally. Terrible timing to ask that question.

But Stan had different thoughts... He didn't even know if he loved you like that. Your relationship moved too fast, and now you're here, taking care of him while he's sick. Sure, you're both in a relationship, but he knew this was wrong, because it felt wrong.

But... ah, he can't think straight.

"Yes," he breathed, desperately. Almost starved. Needy.

He reveled in the feeling of both your hands resting on his cheeks, only to feel slightly dejected when you kissed his forehead.

Guess even you're aware of your relationship right now. That's nice to know. Still, he liked the sentiment to the point that a smile is threatening to go out. "You're gonna, uh... steal my fever because of this."

A chuckle left your lips. "Then I'll trust you to take care of me next."

Trust.

Stan had never trusted anyone again after the incident, and no one else had any reason to trust him either.

He raised his hands and placed them over yours, which were still on his cheeks. You watched as he brushed his nose against your hand, giving you soft, ghostly kisses with his lips.

You smiled. "During our first date, I knew you were more than what you let on. Sure, you're charming and funny, but then I saw you staring at that family with kids, and I definitely noticed when you helped that old lady with the door."

Stan stared at you.

"And I really appreciated how hard you tried to make me comfortable," your smile widened. "I think that's the main reason that made me go on a second date with you."

He coughed, looking away. "Hey. I seem to be... in need of a warm body beside me. On the bed. Because I'm sick. And in need of emotional support."

"Sure," you chuckled. "Worth the risk."

He snuggled up to you as soon as you laid beside him, wrapping his arms around your waist. It was cold, yet so warm.

You played with his hair, combing your fingers through it.

The longer you stayed with him, his warm body pressed against yours, the more he became addicted to the feeling.

The feeling of having someone by his side. Someone who actually understands him.

His eyes closed, indulging himself with your presence and warmth, trying to press himself further into you.

The fever made him feel as if he would melt into you, his flesh becoming one with yours, and everything in his body merging beneath your skin.

If he didn't love you just a few minutes ago, then he certainly does now.

And he's never letting you go.

BONUS:

"Noooooo. Please come back. I need you," he sobbed, actual tears leaking from his eyes. Your lips twitched; at least now you knew he has intense mood swings when he's sick.

You twisted the towel you had just soaked in water. "This will be quick. It'll seep the fever out of you."

"Nooo."

[covenofagatha]

just realised that on Saturday supposedly the FFF (finger free february) started so now I'll make it my own personal goal to not touch myself for the whole month (ignoring the fact that I already lost the challenge lmao) and its gonna be so hard because you'll be writing and posting so many delicious filth and its gonna ruin me

ALSO, would you THINK reader would make it until the end of the month with g!p Agatha teasing them and making them squirm... 'innocently' brushing he cock against reader's ass, pressing gently against her and making her hiss almost in pain

Or also just being horny and dirty talking all day, for example during breakfast as they both take their coffee and maybe Agatha says "do you like how I made your coffee dear" and reader's like "of course, did you add cream today? It tastes a little.bit different?" And Agatha is smirking and shes smug and her eyes scream i need to bend you over the kitchen island while she says "yeah added MY cream" and you see her palming her cock though her pants and you just gulp and whine as you rub your legs together to get some friction but Agatha puts her hands firmly on your thighs and tuts "oh no darling, you're not supposed to touch yourself, in any way. First of all, it's because we both know that is only mommy's place to touch; second, it's February and it was you who told me you wanted to do this challenge"

She says all that as she gets up from her seat and nears you and whisper in the ear "You told me, no begged me to let you go through this, but never said anything about me teasing you to make you break. And I will break you. Like I always do, cause your role is just to be a whiny little puppy for mommy to use, isnt it?"

And then she just kind of lean and sucks a mark on your neck

btw this is not a request ask, I'd love to know if you had any headcanons about how this ^^^^ could work, because I personally think it would be so hot and frustrating and would be a clear example of how edging worksss and why it is so used

- ✒

I didn't know FFF was a thing (have we all failed?) but I absolutely love this idea and I would be MORE than happy to add some thoughts

It's January 31st, and you're scrolling on your phone in bed after Agatha just thoroughly fucked you, and you see a post about Finger Free February. Before you can think about it, you show Agatha and ask, "Think I could do it?" Agatha smirks and says there is no way you could last an entire month without her touch, so of course you have to commit

However, just the next day you come to regret it when you wake up and find Agatha jerking off next to you, staring at you. You can't resist trying to slide a hand into your pants to relieve some of the heat because watching her touch herself is just too hot, when she tuts and reminds you of the challenge. It's fucking torture when she has you take your shirt off and cums all over your tits and licks herself off while you're squirming underneath her and wondering if it counts if you cum without being touched

It seems like Agatha is just being mean on purpose now, grinding her cock into your ass each time she steps behind you (even when there is MORE than enough space where she doesn't have to touch you at all), pinching your nipples, sucking on your neck and whispering how much mommy misses your cunt in your ear

It's about eight days in when you start purposefully moving away from her whenever she comes near you because you physically can't take it anymore, and of course Agatha is by no means okay with this, so she bends you over her knee and spanks you until you're a sobbing, wet mess and apologizing profusely

"That's my good girl. I'm sorry that mommy is trying to get you to break - I just need you too bad. Come on, honey, let mommy touch you," she purrs and you almost give in right there, but you're ultimately too proud and too stubborn to give in

Not having your cunt available whenever she wants it is making Agatha really struggle too, so she ramps up her efforts to get you to break because at this point, she is also too horny that she can't think straight

She begs you while stroking her cock in front of you, telling you "Look how hard mommy is for you, mommy's cock needs you so bad, baby, please" and fuck, you've never been more wet and needy in your life but you're determined because it's been over half a month and you can't give in now

So you suck her off and she cums down your throat with a loud grunt and you should just throw out your pair of underwear because there's no coming back from how badly you just ruined them

The closest you come to breaking is when you're in the shower with three days to go (even just the thought of Agatha now has you soaked and aching to be filled) and she gets in too. You gasp, already dizzy with need at the proximity of her naked body and hard cock, and she pins you against the wall and kisses down your body and slides her cock in between your pussy lips to just grind her length against you and you think you might just be able to cum from how it feels to have her sliding against your clit and opening

Just before you give in and let your orgasm wash over you, she pulls back and you actually cry out. "You're so close to the end, honey. You can't quit now," Agatha says with a wink and frustrated tears sting your eyes.

On the 28th (thank god it's not a leap year), you start a countdown with a minute until midnight and the moment the clock strikes 12 on March 1st, you practically pounce on Agatha, who has also been eagerly waiting. She shoves two fingers inside you and strokes your clit and you instantly cum, having been on edge for an entire month

She makes you cum until you have to beg her to stop, and then just one more time for good measure because it's been too long and she wants to make sure that you're completely satiated

"Think you'll do it again next year?" she asks teasingly and you shake your head immediately because you know there's no way you could survive that long without her touching you again

But you absolutely cannot wait for No Nut November to turn the tables on her

[barbiesmuse]

BETTER VERSION HEADCANONS ༘⋆₊˚ෆ

;ֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָsimon riley + reader

talia talks: i'm just going to leave this here. it's actually filthy and i probably won't be looking in the mirror for the next week. this was originally supposed to come out before the actual fic buuuut it didn't so enjoy my scraps while i finish "welcome to new york!!" ofc credits for the idea go to @ungodlybre. she's such a baddie!! okay, enjoy this filth! love you yesterday, today, and tomorrow! with all the love in my heart, natty. here's the link to better version.

“they call it the honeymoon phase.”

sweethusband!simon who was the sweetest man when you'd met him. it was hard to believe he killed men with how kind he was to you. he practically worshipped the ground you walked on.

sweethusband!simon who had made sure whenever he came home from work he stripped at the door in case he smelled of gunpowder. showering as quickly as possible so he could hold you in his arms.

sweethusband!simon who pressed soft kisses to your hair while he fingered you in your sleep the feeling of your warm walls comforting him. the smell of your shampoo clouded his senses, and his movements became staggered as his hard-on grew. But your pleasure always came before his.

sweethusband!simon would beg to wash your hair in the shower, he loved the feeling of his body against yours while the water pours down on the two of you. the sticky feeling casting a comforting warmth over him.

sweethusband!simon who felt himself falling more and more in love with you every day. if felt as if he was meeting you for the first time all over again. every time he woke up next to you, butterflies fluttered in his stomach. the beautiful sight of you sprawled in his bed, his cum stuffed inside of you from the night before.

sweethusband!simon who fucked you so so well before his first deployment since your wedding. your pretty pussy clenched on nothing for the next six days just at the thought of how he touched you that night. his hand gently embracing your neck as he fucks you in front of the mirror. his nose pressed behind your ear, his breath hot on your neck. sweethusband!simon who made you watch his fat cock plunge in and out of you, of course you didn't have to do any work. you just had to watch and keep those pretty eyes of yours open. even when you tried to help him, he pushed your hips down and muttered something about how “i wouldn't be a real man if i needed your help, b'sides s' good workout for me.”

sweethusband!simon who would whispered dirty things in your ear, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. every time those pretty eyes of yours closed he would pull back on your hair, force your mouth open, and spit in it. he'd push your head forehead and force your eyes open if he had to. if you wanted this you'd better watch. like his sweet girl would.

sweethusband!simon who would say things like, “fuck baby, she's squeezing me so tight. she missed me today didn't she?” and you would just nod in embarrassment, your cheeks flushed a soft pink. he would tut at you in disappointment before slapping your clit. the sudden stimulation making you whimper. “say it, tell me how much my sweet girls missed me. how bad they needed me. cause fuck sweetheart, i missed you both to pieces.

“then it'll turn to hell, just. like. that.”

assholehusband!simon who would treat you as a roommate, not on purpose you just simply became another being in his life. his love never faded, his sweet actions however did. if you asked him to help you he'd drop whatever task, but he wouldn't say a single word. and when you muttered a thank you she would give you a shrug.

assholehusband!simon simon who didn't strip at the door anymore. when you'd ask he'd simply grunt something about, “shit, forget it'll be fine.” and you'd simply let out a sigh. he'd just gotten back from deployment and you didn't want to push him. so each time you'd let it slide. the smell of gunpowder soon became an odd cologne.

assholehusband!simon who would still finger you in your sleep, the only time he truly felt comfortable with expressing his love for you. he'd have small conversations with you, it gave him comfort knowing that you still trusted him this way. “you're so damn perfect sweet girl, please don't leave.” and when you'd respond, he would pull his fingers out of your gushy pussy as quickly as possible. your orgasm snatched away from you. he'd stuff his fingers in your mouth and make you suck them yourself.

assholehusband!simon who would let you shower with him. he'd be just fine without you in the shower. he couldn't care less, and he made it known just by his actions. he wouldn't even touch touch you. the water was steaming hot, the steam clouds floating out of the shower as if they were trying to escape the awkwardness themselves. the water was hot but you felt cold.

assholehusband!simon who would trudge up the stairs if he got home late from deployment. his eyes immediately landing on the lingerie that adorned your body in such a gorgeous way. like you were a little present waiting for him to present. he loved how even though he treated you like a sleeve for his cum you still got all pretty just for him.

assholehusband!simon who watched his cum drip out of your sweet little pussy, his mark on you. he'd dreamt about your stomach becoming swollen with his kids. the thought of your beautiful tits only becoming larger. the thought of him fucking you, his veiny cock deep inside your cunt. his lips wrapped around your nipple, your sweet milk filing his mouth.

assholehusband!simon who would slap his cock on your tongue, your sweet eyes meeting his. he looked down at you as if you were his servant yet there was a small hint of guilt. yet it was clouded by a small look of love in his eyes. no matter what, you'd always be his sweet girl. always. “mm, suck so it can be all ready for my girls.” he'd whisper as his cock hits the back of your throat.

[sweet-as-petrichor]

Headcanon that a fact very rarely known about Damian Wayne al Ghul, son of Bruce What emotion am I feeling today Wayne, is that he's a crier. Whenever he's having a bad day, the only thing that can fix it and make him feel better is a long, hard cry.

Of course, he's learned to cry completely silently (growing up in the league that viewed every supposed weakness as lethal will do that to you). He's also very good at compartmentalization and can push it down until he has time and privacy enough to let go.

When he first came to the manor, it was in the in suite bathroom behind two locked doors with the shower running. Once he started trusting him, it was on his eldest brother's shoulder.

The day he goes to Bruce to be held when he's crying, his father goes wide eyed, heart so full of love it hurts and it's like finding he has a son all over again.

[jweekgoji]

Hiii I really like your writings and headcanons, especially the ones with yandere sentinel from TF 1 being a sub and us being a power femdom.id really appreciate it if you could write about yn or us finding sentinel after Megatron kills him and we repair sentinel just for him to be our dedicated servant boy put on a leash his entire life.

If you don't feel comfortable with the request you can ignore it and take your time no pressure! ❤️

Sentinel/Reader [TFO]

tw: dark themes, emotional manipulation, power imbalance, touch starvation/co-dependency, brief description of past trauma, anxiety, mentions of death, injuries, angst, dubcon [at the end], reader gets a little yandere-ish. word count: ~1830. a/n: i like this request so much, hehehe.

When you first saw your leader being ripped apart by one of the iaconian miners, you were devastated and as shocked as everyone else. Waking up early today, getting ready for another, long and tiring day of work only to suddenly learn that the bot you looked up to was lying to everyone for 50 cycles?

It felt so surreal, here you were standing over the Sentinel Prime. Ruler of Iacon City yesterday, and a leftover piece of scrap today. You're still not certain how you feel about him after what happened. Maybe it was a remnant of admiration for him, after all, how much has passed since the fight?

You were probably standing there for a good few minutes, staring down at Sentinel, not a word or a flick of emotion on your face. That was, until you heard heavy footsteps behind you and a large servo placed on your shoulder.

“You don't have to do this, I can take care of him if you want,” Optimus says carefully. For some reason, the young Prime already felt responsible for his people.

There was a brief silence between the two of you before you shook your helm in response. You didn't want to bother Optimus with this, knowing that he had gone through enough for the past few days. This is the least you can do, helping with rebuilding a new Iacon and getting rid of the past.

A soft sigh escapes your lips once Optimus leaves you alone. This wasn't supposed to be so hard, wasn't it? Just pick him up, and then...what else? Does Sentinel, the selfish betrayer of his own kind, deserve some respect even after his death? To bury him might be a too much of a kind gesture from you, considering that he had no kindness for anyone but himself. On the other hand, melting his remnants still doesn't sound right for you.

You would have kept thinking about it for hours, until a brief, almost too light to notice pulsating of a spark under the tips of your digits caught your attention. You pause, in mind an immediate “am I imagining this? was it real?”, it felt like everything just went quiet around you. A soft beat, then another. Despite everything, the spark inside his chamber was still beating.

And so, you decided to take care of him.

It was a miracle that he survived. The impact of his injuries should have left him dead, you swear, no, everyone swear to see the light goes off from his optics. He was dead, there are no possible explanation for him not to stay offline like he supposed to be. Some might consider it a blessing of Primus himself, for you just a pure luck.

Outliving 13 Primes, somehow not getting killed by quintessons during one of the secret meetings, and now you, the bot who decided to let him live, even though ignoring everything might have been the best solution.

After countless days of work, you are finally able to stabilize his systems, fixing up a few dents here and there, probably left after his last fight with the silver bot. For a cogless miner before, that mech was surprisingly strong, you note.

You hold a piece of a small energon cube in the palm of your servo. Was it the right choice? You never tell anyone, not even Optimus about what you have found. You knew Sentinel would be thrown in prison, if lucky, or hunted down by Megatron if the news reached him. No, you already went too far, letting anyone find out about Sentinel would be a huge mistake. That's why you made sure he didn't get to keep his lower half of the body. He should never be able to leave.

When you gently pushed the energon cube into his mouth, letting it slip down his throat, you waited. A second of silence...another few—until his optics begin to shine light blue once again. You open your mouth to start explaining everything, but you are immediately interrupted by a loud “no!” and you have to clamp your servo over his mouth to make him quiet.

The mech in front of you remembers only the last few seconds before he went offline, that burning pain through his whole body is now forever printed in his mind. You can see the genuine fear in his optics, which soon changed into surprise once he processed everything. He wasn't in the center of Iacon. No one, but you were around him.

Only after a good few minutes of soft explaining calmed his raising spark. Sentinel was relieved, after all, there are some loyal worshippers of his who took care of him and repaired him! As you stood in front of the former leader, you made sure to leave no details about everything that happened after. A new Prime was born, and D-16, now well known as Megatron, is one of the future concerns for everyone in Iacon besides quintessons. Even after his «death» Sentinel made sure to leave a huge impact on your lives for cycles and cycles in the future.

“And about...the other part of me?” Sentinel asks, glancing down where his lower half should be before looking back at you.

You go silent for a mere second before a quick “I wasn't able to repair it” excuse slips from your glossa.

Thankfully, he swallows this response rather quickly, and without questioning any further, that smug smirk appears on his face, ready to boss you again. It was amusing at first. In such a position, Sentinel forgets, he's a no Prime anymore, just another cogless bot left at your mercy.

You were merciful enough to let him live in this fantasy, letting him think that he has that control over something, despite how annoying he gets whenever you don't do something immediately. What do you mean you have to leave him? He's Sentinel Prime, you should obey and listen to him!...Please?

Maybe in the back of his mind, he slowly realizes it. He's dependent. He can't live without you, he can't even reach for a cube of an energon for himself without you kindly putting it on the tip of his glossa. If you suddenly decide to leave him, he's all alone. That takes a good sacrifice of his own pride to give you a few signs, angrily growling a “Don't you dare to leave!” or “I am not done with you, come back this instant!”.

When you had to leave today once again, making him suffer in the silence of his own thoughts and a soft humming of mechanisms in this room, he felt insecure. He hates it, waiting and counting the seconds until you finally come back to him. How could you disrespect him like this? Who do you think you are, huh?

“Oh, please, leave then! I don't need you anyway,” Sentinel says proudly, rolling his optics with a slight annoyance hidden in his tone.

He doesn't need your help, if you leave, it would change nothing for him. You're just another nameless bot, the one who supposed to serve and listen to him, after all. If you don't want to do what he says, there will certainly be someone else to replace you. Right?

Then why, why he feels that deep, suffocating feeling every time you leave? When he calls your name over and over again, his tone changes from an authoritative to a weak, pleading one. No, no, no, you wouldn't really leave him, would you? He panics, breathing a little heavy at the realization that there he is, with no one but him in here. He's so, so screwed.

With each passing hour, his anxiety grows even more. From the most ridiculous to the most horrifying scenarios, he can't help but silently plead for your soon return. A constant “come back, please, please come back, you can't just leave me here,” in his thoughts. Sentinel would certainly go insane if it weren't for a soft hiss of an opening door. You were back.

Once you are close to him, he quickly wraps his servos around you, clinging to your frame for a dear life. You can hear him, muttering something under his breath over and over again, and without a need to ask him to repeat his words, you understand everything.

“I would never leave you, Sentinel,” you say softly, placing your servo on the side of his face, only for him to lean into it, as if begging for more.

“Please don't,” he whispers back, his servo moving to the back of your helm, making you lean closer to his height so he could kiss you.

Who would have thought that Sentinel Prime is such a touchstarved mech? Begging someone to notice him? Like you? If only you had known that leaving a poor bot for a good day or two all alone would make him such a sucker for attention, you would have done it much sooner.

And suddenly Sentinel is not that annoying, noisy menace, as you remember. Every soft sound he lets out, every gentle caress and touch of his servos on your frame, feels like a desperate attempt to make you stay. He wants to show you that he's worthy of your time, if only you stay!

Sentinel's hold on you is tight, as he keeps you right next to him, afraid that the moment he lets go, you're going to disappear. Just a mere thought of it makes him whine into the kiss, and he pushes his glossa into your mouth, as if hoping to please you.

The moment you pull away from him, Sentinel grips tighter, mewling a soft “no”, a look of desperation in his optics. You can't help but feel a pang of satisfaction from it. How couldn't you, when you have someone who is always so needy of your attention? Always looking forward to the moment you come back?

At this point, he doesn't care what he has to do to keep you with him for another minute or two. The old, commanding and cruel part of him is so ashamed of what he has become. Any other good day in past, you would already be mining energon and hoping for a better future, and he would be a king, just like he was supposed to.

“Please, use me, however you want just— just don't go,” he pleads once again, his servos tightening around your wrists, wanting and needing you closer.

And how can you really tell him no if he asks you so, so nicely today?

You only nod gently at his another plead, placing your servo on top of his helm to gently nudge him lower and to position him between your thighs. Sentinel was so great with every word of his speeches that it's no surprise that he certainly knows how to use his own tongue.

[eclipsedechoesofmywords]

Saw you were looking for requests… Robert Chase (House MD) realizes he is in love with reader. F or gn reader is fine I know you’re more comfy with f reader so whatever you want to do is great. How would Chase react? How long did it take him to realize? What would he say or do? If he did confess how would he do it and how would he react after? Head canons, blurb, or a fic is perfect but honestly do what feels right to you. Thanks so much in advance! All the love and support to you, Madzzz. 💜💜💜

"Realisation"

Robert Chase Headcanons

[Robert Chase x doctor!fem!reader]

Masterlist

Warnings: angst, death, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 635 words

A/N: Hello dear! Thank you for the request! I'm gonna try headcanons since it's something I haven't done before. He is my latest obsession. I have a thing for blondes with daddy issues I'm afraid.

You had known Robert Chase for years, long before you ended up on House's team. From med school to residency, you'd always been by each other's side. Through late-night study sessions, exams, and cases.

Now, let's say a surgery went wrong, and the patient died on the table. Foreman announces the time of death:

2:53

Chase couldn't believe it. That wasn't what was supposed to happen. They had been working nonstop on this case for days. They had finally figured out what was wrong. The patient couldn't just die.

The OR is quiet after Foreman announces the time of death.

You exchange a look with Chase, seeing the disbelief and frustration in his eyes. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He's usually composed in these situations, but today is different. This case was personal to him.

He was barely out of his scrubs before you hugged him tightly. No words were spoken, just the warmth of your embrace.

You felt him freeze for a second, but then, slowly, his arms wrapped around you. He held onto you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

You two went back to your apartment after that and had some wine and takeout. He left at 5.

He's pretty sure that day(night technically) was when he realized he was in love with you.

And that he had been for a while.

It was a hell of a way to find out since it was because of a patient's death

He felt guilty about it.

Then there were other things too, on the one hand, he was scared he was going to ruin your friendship.

On the other, he isn't one to hide how he feels, and it felt wrong not to tell you just how much he wanted to be more than a friend to you.

And you were co-workers.

What if you rejected him if he told you how he felt? He couldn't work with you after that!

It takes a few months of debating— and a 'therapy session' with Wilson— with himself to decide to tell you.

In these months, though, he had started distancing himself from you.

You started to worry. Chase’s distance hurt more than you’d like to admit. You wonder if he’s just tired, or stressed, or if maybe something deeper is going on. Did you do something wrong? You didn't want to lose him.

When you just couldn't take it anymore, you basically hunted him down and dragged him to an empty MRI room to ask him what the hell was going on and if you were the reason for it.

It’s the last thing he wanted—for you to think you had done something wrong.

This wasn't how he wanted to tell you.

He sighs, rubs the back of his neck nervously, and finally says, "This isn't how I wanted to— I don’t know how to say this..." 

"I didn’t want you to think I was—I didn’t want to ruin what we have. But I care about you, like, really care. I'm in love with you."

You can see the fear in his eyes, the fear that he might lose you for good. You feel something else though, relief and joy. You grin brightly.

"You scared me, Chase. I thought I was losing you."

He looks confused. "What? So-"

"I love you too," you confessed. "For a while now, actually."

His expression shifts from confusion to pure joy. The realization that you’ve felt the same way brings a brightness to him.

He grinned, pulling you closer, and for the first time in weeks, everything felt right. You’re no longer just colleagues or friends— and it was exhilarating.

Both of you were sure you would figure out what to do from here.

You were never safe from the team teasing after you two told them you were dating

And of course, money was won and lost by all.

Because of course, they made a bet on you and Chase, What, you didn't expect that?

[blackheart-6]

dess-ember day 11/31

and doecember day 11

hi yall

what, this is late? nope, cant be, you all just must be early to the 12th 😋

lol, anyways, i didnt mean for this to be late, sorry about that! ive been working on this pretty much all day (i even started thing yesterday, because i knew it would take awhile), with only stopping for school and family stuff, and i still finished late 😖😫😫 all that effort to do it on time lead to nothing, i suppose 😞

but its not actually that serious lol, its my own challenge so i guess i can do what i want at the end of the day :P (i wont make a habit of this though, i promise!)

heres the drawing for today!

this is an entry for doecember as well, with the prompt being tree! with that, i decided to have it as little baby noelle putting the angel on the tree 👼🎄

if youre wondering about the little tape piece, thats mostly due to me headcanonning noelle as trans, so that originally said her birth name, but it was edited when noelle came out ^^

(a cute idea i thought of while drawing was that, when noelle came out to her parents (i think she came out to dess first) dess wanted to help calm her anxieties afterwards and had her and noelle go up to their attic and fix things like this, that had noelles old name or said the wrong gender 😊 but thats just a little thought of mine)

...

okay, this also took awhile because i didnt want to just leave this all happy and nice, cant have that! i dont think ive done any angst at all this month, so i had to do something!

noelle looking at old memories, and making herself sad by remembering how happy things used to be 😢

so, heres me taking this cute image and making it more sad 🙁

but yeah, thats it for now, bye yall