#Flustered gatekeeper is flustered

[yandere-daydreams]

Confession: When I first saw you mention "I'm in Love with the Villainess" I had no intention to watch it because I confused it with a similar premise I had read a few months earlier and been meh about (isekai butler loves the villainess he serves), so I was confused when I saw the other anon mention that it was a girl's love series.

Long story short: I watched the anime in one sitting and am now waiting for all the volumes of manga currently released to be delivered. It is a great series and I need more of it.

i haven't gotten around to reading the manga/light novel (does anyone know which came first?) just yet, but it's such a good show fr fr T-T i feel like you never really hear characters say the word 'lesbian' in anime, even if there are girls kissing on the reg, so it was very refreshing to have multiple characters who both are and call themselves queer. ray and claire's arc is just,,, scrumptious as well. a protag who's convinced herself that she can love endlessly with no expectation of reciprocation + a love interest who legitimately believes she's made herself impossible to love is just,,,, what a fucking show. delicious delicious show if nothing else watch a compilation of the mc's english voice actor doing the goddamn most.

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when you're doing a sexy concept.

AN: think of this as a comeback stage! so bf! dreamies are watching from the backstage. Also I did crop Minnie and Winter for the photo moodboard, sorry. (secret relationship btw)

Mark Lee

Mark will be surprise that you were doing a sexy concept that he stood up from his seat so fast that the plastic chair fell. Mark's brain had a short-circuit moment because even though you were wearing a sleeveless top and slacks, the choreography was so sexy that the Dreamies watched him clear his throat a hundred times throughout your stage. When you two met backstage, he couldn't utter a word to you, still in the state of shock because of your performance.

Huang Renjun

Renjun was surprised when you two met backstage and you're wearing a short dress, he can see that you would try to pull it down so that your safety shorts wouldn't be seen. He looks at you with concern especially because it's his first time seeing you do a sexy concept. He asked you if you're okay with it and you only smile at him, assuring him that you're okay with the concept but your dress is what you're uncomfortable about. Renjun could only give you encouraging words before you leave for the recording.

Lee Jeno

Jeno watches you from the backstage with that 'dad stance' (you know, standing with his hands on his hips lol) but everyone can see the proud smile on his face as he watches your comeback stage. He knows that you're doing a sexy concept and you were excited about it! That's why your boyfriend is also excited for you. His eyes never left you and he looks so lovestruck especially during your solo parts. When you two met backstage, he gives you a hug and tells you that you look sexy back there!

Lee Donghyuck

Haechan cannot do anything but to sulk as he watch your comeback stage. You were too pretty and sexy! And the choreography was something else, that he could only scream when the part was too sensual. He wanted to gatekeep you so bad and even convinced the Dreamies to not look at you. (They told him that he's being dramatic.) So when you two met backstage, you weren't able to say hi because Haechan covered you quickly with his padded jacket.

Na Jaemin

"That's my girl!" Jaemin shouts the moment you two met backstage. You only raised at eyebrow because of how loud your boyfriend was, he will tease you nonstop because it's your first time doing a sexy concept. Even copying your moves and part, making you embarrassed with his antics. At the end, Jaemin asked if you two can film a dance challenge for your comeback because he loves the choreo so much.

Zhong Chenle

Chenle would probably do that soccer dad type of clap when your performance was finished. He would even scream when they feature you as the ending fairy, pointing you and telling everyone that your his girlfriend. That's why when you visited their room, he'll clap so loud that you'll be embarrassed. He'll hype you nonstop and telling you that you did great with your comeback stage! You were in relief because weeks earlier you started having doubt about whether you can pull the sexy concept or not, and with your boyfriend's assuring words, you had nothing to worry about.

Park Jisung

Jisung would be flustered when he discovered that your concept was sexy. The streetwear outfits were deceiving. So when he was watching your comeback stage, he looks like a lost chick with the eyes wide and open mouth, he would cover it with his hands from time to time until your performance is finished. When you two met, you asked for his thoughts, but you saw how he's so flustered with your performance! In the end, he told you that the choreography was great, like genuinely great in his opinion.

[dawndelion-winery]

I Met You Once, I Loved You Twice

Celebrity au! Their persona, and then their true self, it seems like you were meant to love them regardless

Ft. Childe, Furina, Kaveh, Scaramouche (Wanderer), Wriothesley

[Idol! Childe, Actress! Furina, Racer! Kaveh, Artist! Scaramouche, Athlete! Wriothesley]

Childe:

You knew him before the fame, before the glitz and glamour; when he was just Ajax

And as horribly sappy as it sounds, you've loved him since day 1

Falling in love with Ajax was like slipping on ice while you're hiking up a snowy mountain

You get a little too caught up in the scenery, a tad bit too comfortable being around him

And suddenly, you fail to notice the patch of ice and slip, tumbling down the cliffside, your affection for him snowballing into something greater

And so you support him through his dreams of becoming an idol, writing to him while he's a trainee, making care packages for him

Anything for your Ajax

And when he finally debuts...

Oh boy, all the fans calling themselves his partner? They could dream on

You called dibs on him before any of them even set eyes on him

Besides, how could they even fall for someone just from watching them perform?

That was answered for you the first time Ajax excitedly insisted you watch him in the MV

You're not exactly proud of your reactions to seeing him come up on screen, but he seemed happy enough about it

Falling in love with the idol Childe was like drowning

Holding your breath, choking and flailing

It's dizzying until you finally succumb, which doesn't take long at all

And once he's converted you into a fan?

He's such a little shit, whipping out the idol persona for a smidge of free fanservice just to get you flustered at the most random times

And he's back to your sweet old Ajax in seconds too, acting like nothing's amiss

Furina:

The world's greatest actress finds that the world is her stage

Ever perfect, ever entertaining, her splendour is unparalleled

It was impossible not to adore such craft, and you easily fell in love with her acting just as one would fall asleep, gently and blissfully without even realising

Immersing yourself in her works, you develop a sort of fanaticism, delving deeper to find her interviews

She's beautiful whether or not she's filming, you find

So much so that you can't help but wonder how much of it is true

And so when you do, by some trick of fate, meet her, you feel compelled to ask

It's a dark, foggy evening, and you're taking a brisk walk along the forest

Who would've thought you'd bump into her then?

And so you strike up conversation, eager to interact with your favourite actress

And when you broach the topic of her facade, you notice she gets a tad bit defensive

So you apologise and back off, meaning well, hoping to see her again

And you do: these late walks become a regular thing, and slowly, you start to know her for who she really was

It's almost like meeting her for the first time all over again, and it very well may have been if you don't count the act as meeting her

Falling for Furina, your friend, was like taking an ice bath

Frigidity seized you almost instantly, and yet, as you stayed longer, the more pleasant it felt, almost soothing in a sharp sort of way

Kaveh:

Not just anyone could race in what was known to be the pinnacle of motorsports

And Kaveh? He was brilliant, the light of Ksharewar, the face of the team

And frankly, a very charming face

Often regarded as one of the prettiest on the grid (if not the prettiest)

He's really raking in the viewers

Imagine people seeing *1* edit of him getting out his his car post race and suddenly they're invested in races

Ofc being a new fan, the gatekeeping you have to put up with is ridiculous

"I bet your favourite driver is Kaveh because he's handsome."

As if he's not one of the most talented to ever grace us with his presence?

He gets so involved with the car's engineering honestly he should just build the car himself too atp

He is speed on the track

And falling for the light of Ksharewar through the television screen is an adrenaline rush in and of itself

So bumping into him in real life was just breathtaking

You sincerely hoped you didn't come off as some crazed fanatic with the way you rambled on about how much you loved seeing the way he pushed the car to its limits and everything

Overall it was a great once in a lifetime experience and you planned to treasure it

Until it was just a once in a lifetime thing and you seemed to bump into him a fair bit ("Hey aren't you that fan that completely went off about the car that time?")

Once you'd started talking to him more frequently, the rush of meeting him started to fade into less of a frenzy, and more of a bubbling excitement

Falling in love with Kaveh was like taking a breath of fresh air and letting the chilly breeze fill your lungs, a crisp clarity creeping through your senses

But from the faint flush of pink on his cheeks, perhaps the opposite was the case on his end

Scaramouche(Wanderer):

You've heard of artists with depression, now what about artists with borderline personality disorder?

The first time you'd met him, you didn't even know it was him

You'd been at an art gallery admiring the works signed off by Kunikuzushi when a stranger stood beside you

"You've been staring at this sculpture for a pretty long time."

"I like it. I don't think I've ever felt such yearning embedded in stone."

The stranger didn't respond, but nodded in acknowledgement and continued to stand beside you

Falling for Kunikuzushi was like falling in love with shadows

It was no more than a feeling, a yearning, a desperation much like what he portrays in his works

Everything you knew about him seemed to drown in sorrow, loneliness, and self destruction, yet having never met him, you were sure this was only one small aspect of his being

Which left you ever curious

Curiouser still was that same stranger with the odd navy blue hair who always seemed to happen to bump into you at these exhibitions

Without fail, he'd prompt you to speak, as though digging for your thoughts on each piece

Not that it bothered you, the stranger felt familiar, and had become a welcome face

Warm was his presence and gentle was his gaze, yet a detached coldness kept you from him

He was beautiful, you noted, like moonlight, with all it melancholic splendour and grace, like the paintings and sculptures you loved so dearly

And so you found yourself falling for a beguiling stranger whose name you knew not

You loved him like the sea loves the shore, always reaching for him, but pulling back in uncertainty

"You're oddly silent today," he notes.

"I was thinking of how much this piece reminds me of us. It's weird, isn't it? How I'm seeing things, drawing links to some stranger."

"Not really. I made it like that for you. We don't have to be strangers."

Wriothesley:

Baseball player Wriothesley who has his fans swooning at his charming grin and chuckle

A real heart stopper (he could beat me with his bat)

Fans adore him regardless of whether they're simps (they are) because he's good at his job

The only people who hate him are fans of the opposing team

The way his arms flex with every swing, in this essay I will-

He's built like a tank and plays like one too

So obviously you'd expect him to be a pretty confident kind of guy

And he is

He's a charmer, a smooth talker, and painfully level headed

So why was this beefy cannon suddenly bashful over your incessant praise?

Just look at him, which of his fans haven't fallen completely smitten?

Falling for the star player was like stepping into a big city for the first time, and being wowed and blinded by the lights and massive skyscrapers

But Wriothesley was a soft person at heart

And oh so very vulnerable to affection

For every compliment you uttered, he'd readily deflect it, but when they just didn't end?

Boy was he at a loss

He did end up treating you to coffee, so that was nice

But he was very obviously avoiding your gaze which he deemed to raw for him to meet

Yet it is that exact raw adoration that he can't quite dismiss

He knows how superficial fawning can be, yet there's an undeniable gratification when it comes from you

So he keeps you at arm's length, letting you in ever so slightly, but never too close despite not pushing you away

Falling in love with Wriothesley was like planting a seed and nurturing it as it grows

The germination takes place out of sight, the results unnoticeable until it finally sprouts as a fragile sapling

Discouraging as it may be, with continued work, it does get easier

And when he's secure enough to trust you entirely...he promised to return all your efforts tenfold

Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyarobin @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating

[shinjisdone]

When You Have An Secret Admirer - And Everybody Thinks It's Them (3; Octavinelle)

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that ‘secret admirer’ - everyone wants to help you out…but have their own reason for it. Yet now, it seems like there are quite a few misunderstandings on campus...and everyone thinks they have finally found that secret admirer.

Spin-off of the first 'secert admirer’ series + form of headcanons

note: reader is gender-neutral but mostly mentioned in 2. pov; a series of everyone being mistaken for the secret admirer. headcanon will follow each char. own thoughts on the situation.]

“Hey…you think he could be the famous admirer of the Ramshakle prefect?”

Tag list: @justm3di0cr3 , @a-small-tyrant , @twistedcece , @savanaclaw1996

1;Heartslabyul

2; Savanaclaw

Azul Ashengrotto:

Euxkrbwöaöwlfffhsk - ???

UHM - wh-what a silly, little rumor! Ho-How, why would anyone think that???

There he goes, laughing awkwardly (almost like a sea witch)

He becomes a bit of a fidgety, awkward mess. Wherever he goes he really tries to uphold his 'cool, poised manner' but it simply fails time and time again when his own dorm theorizes about him being the secret admirer!

They aren't even rumors anymore! People wholeheartedly believe it!

After all, who else but the Azul Ashengrotto would be capable to plan and scheme to such extends? He is a schemer. It is in his nature after all.

If the many infamous tricks up his sleeves does not convince one, certainly his obvious pining for the perfect does.

Azul splutters- wha-wha- whatdoyoumean????

P-pining?! Ah - ahahahHAHAHAHA-JDKYJkekcislfks...

*heavy breathing as he hides himself in his pot*

Jade and Floyd may have just 1% of pity for him but the remaining 99% is spent on laughing at his misery. They are well aware that he is not the secret admirer - after all, the arguements of him being the one are solid, so they checked (not even Azul will take Shrimpy away from them) but kind of knew that he was too much of a coward to even display his affections for you, anonymous or not.

"No! This can't be!" Azul dramatically pants inside his pot, "I-I have to set this right!"

So here comes his plan to convince you that he is not the secret admirer.

Even though "convincing" is an overstatement. He would just be telling you the truth.

He likes you, yes...but Azul wouldn't ever have the courage to do the things the admirer did for you...

Maybe he doesn't deserve you, being the coward that he is...

So, he approaches you in a rather big crowd. Many hoop that Azul is finally going to reveal the identity of the admirer - he himself!

Yet, there is confusion and disappointment. The scheming Ashengrotto, pathetically putty in your hands, is not the one confessing in secret to you?

Azul is flustered beyond belief. Face a sweating, flushed mess as he stutters out the truth.

Well, the one truth besides his feelings for you.

"Ah, prefect...simply to make things c-clear. Your precious, dear s-secret admirer is not me. I can't have such reput-tation on me, for the sake of Mostro Lounge, you understand...I..."

He falters before forming a smile on his pained, red face.

"...I wouldn't do these things for you."

It hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts but it has to be done.

He doesnt deserve you. Not a coward like him...but more like a brave hero.

Jade Leech

Oh my...is everyone this stupid?

Finds the whole ordeal funny. It is flattering in a way to be compared to the secret admirer, the one who seems to have your heart in their hands, but his dorm truly couldn't be that dumb, right?

No evidence whatsoever...just basing it all on his almost picture-perfect attitude.

Which is as flexible as the waves.

Definitely messes with the rest of the school. Oh, is he the admirer now or not? Hm, perhaps. Perhaps not.

Jade finds pleasure in tricking everyone in his usual fashion. However...

He'll have to realize that all good things come to an end. He will absolutely girlboss gatekeep gaslight mess with everyone but he cannot give you any doubts.

No, no. Jade likes to tease you but this whole ordeal of keeping a false identity would just hurt you. And Jade would never hurt you.

"My, my, Prefect...seems like everyone in the school caught the fungi. They believe me to be the secret admirer...flattering but I assure you, if I wanted to, I would have long conquered your heart."

Floyd Leech

HAHAHAHHAHA

Are you serious? Really, really serious?! Oh, this is hilarious!

You must be so dumb!

Floyd cannot stop laughing - guffawing, cackling, snickering, giggling- the whole stick. It is beyond funny that not even one, not two, not three but the majority think him to be the secret admirer!

Wjajfkwnq? Are you stupid? No, seriously, are you?

Have you seen Floyd? Experienced Floyd? The guy's a ticking time bomb full of unpredictability! He may do many things commit crimes if only he could :( but anyone with a brain knows he would not ever pull a 'secret admirer' stunt!

Floyd holds no secrets. His feelings are not secret. Especially his admiration for you.

Well, admiration is a strong word. More like, adoration? Fascination? End to his boredom???

Is it love when he tackles you from behind and hugs you so tight your spine threatens to snap?

Is it love when he lets you off the hook though and protects you from unwanted attention, students and situations? By becoming the bigger problem

It's a bit of a mystery...but what is sure is that unlike his brother, Floyd laughs at the faces of those who believe instead of taking it to his advantage to mess with them.

He won't even really bother to correct any of them, let alone give you any reassurance. He might break it to you unprompted and rather involuntarily.

"Ne, Shrimpy...these guppies are super funny but so dumb. They seriously think I did all that lovey-dovey stuff for you! Kyehehe! Don't they know that I already love you~?"

[chosolala]

⊹ ‧₊˚ ౨ৎ Megumi headcannons

like the title says, here are some of my silly stupid megumi fushiguro headcannons ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

he really likes to read, so sometimes he’ll buy 2 copies of a new book so he can give the second to you and you guys can read together

sometimes your hangout sessions are just you two sitting in the common room reading your books together while listening to music.

when he’s crushing on you, sometimes he’ll let nobara and yuji motivate him to do stupid things to “get you to fall for him” and he gets super flustered and red.

one time you all were in the library doing research and megumi came up to you like “it’s a good thing i have my library card because i am totally checking you out”. you couldn’t help but giggle at this.

gojo heavily influenced the way he styles his hair

he takes his divine dogs out for walks, brings them to dog parks at night and plays fetch with them.

he loves going on walks while listening to music and zoning out, sometimes he just sits somewhere and watches the world around him, not thinking about all the craziness that comes with being a jujutsu sorcerer.

he loves photography, his camera roll is secretly filled with pictures of yuji and nobara smiling and laughing together, pretty pictures of the sky, him and gojo, and pictures of his divine dogs.

he’s actually super sentimental and he hates that about himself. he can’t bring himself to throw away any stupid note one of his classmates slid him or the acorn that one of his dogs brought to him randomly or any of his polaroids.

he likes watching news or true crime stories with a snack late at night. sometimes his classmates will ask to join him but they get bored easily so he’s usually on his own.

summons his shikigami randomly just for you to play with, especially his dogs whenever you’re visibly upset or had a bad day, he loves seeing how they light up your face.

he loves when people touch his hair or play with it. he would never admit it so it doesn’t happen often but when someone ruffs his hair up he doesn’t push them away

unironically listens to weezer.

he’s a hot head but he never lets his emotions get THAT out of hand

tells you the craziest things ever so nonchalantly, like he’ll tell you a story about how he hardly escaped with his life on one of his missions without a hint of any emotion and then is shocked when you show emotion over it

he loves coffee, he knows all the best coffee spots in tokyo, but he gatekeeps them. one time he brought you to this coffee shop/ bakery he really liked though and he is thinking about showing you another one of his spots

he has a crazy memory, like you mentioned liking a specific fast food place and he surprised you with your favorite food from said restaurant and a movie because you had a bad day.

he practically lives in track pants and sweat pants outside of his school uniform, most of his clothes are dark colors.

he actually has really big sweet tooth but tries to avoid too many sugary foods since it’s bad for him

he actually shops with nobara quiet often, he usually doesn’t buy much though.

he’s the type of guy to be like “¥25,000?? I can get this online for half that” even though he could easily afford the 25000.

-------------------౨ৎ---------------------

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt VI good omens s1e2, a totally all-inclusive summary i remember everything

i don't, that's a lie. i lie like aziraphale, rarely and badly but with great gaslight energy.

alright well let's not dawdle for 6000 years, i'll forget what i DO remember.

An angel named Gabriel who is not Jimbriel yet, so a foetus Jimbriel, gets into Aziraphale's bookstore and yells about pornography to keep humans from following him into Aziraphale's secret back chamber.

What they do there, I do not know. It is up to speculation. They talk and Aziraphale is flustered about Crowley, I think, but that's the whole show so far.

The intro sequence remains strange. Cartoon Aziraphale is an impregnated chicken, cartoon Crowley is the baby daddy.

There are witch hunters and they want to burn Agnes Nutter alive. I don't know who Anges Nutter is yet.

We cut to Agnes Nutter and I know I will never forget her. She is beautiful and a BAMF. A MILF. An absolute bombshell.

The bombshell part is literal. They set her on fire and she explodes, killing all those in a 100 metre radius. I want to be her.

I assume it is a witch thing, but then find out she put bombs under her skirts. I want to be her, but more ardently.

There is a book. She writes prophecies in it.

There are horsemen of the apocalypse, which I forgot was still happening. We are in present day.

War kills everyone. She is pretty. She is not Warlock, the kid whom Aziraphale and Crowley raised.

Famine is a sexy beast, and runs Michelin star restaurants. He likes tiny food. He is developing foodless food.

If there are others, I do not notice. There could be. There really could be. There probably are.

There is a girl who scribbles on the book from earlier. She grows up. I think she is War. I am wrong. This is probably a good time to mention to Tumblr that I have mild issues with facial recognition, which is totally not going to affect my understanding of what is happening at all.

She is named Anathema. That could be someone else. What is real? Not Neil Gaiman.

She finds the Antichrist and the Them, and they are all playing at a witch hunt. The Antichrist does not have an aura. Yellow is fear. Yellow is joy. I lose track of what is happening for several scenes.

Newt is works in an office. There is a power cut. Newt no longer works at an office.

Newt joins a witch hunt.

There is a delivery man. I think he is Newt. I am wrong. His name is something resembling Judy. It is an easy mistake, everyone's reaction to not-Newt-maybe-Judy is the same as that to Newt, deep protective love.

Crowley and Aziraphale steal a Bentley. Find a Bentley? I am unsure. I am too busy looking at Crowley.

Crowley speeds. Crowley likes speeding. They hit a motorbike that has maybe-Anathema. They pick her up and take her to a house somewhere. The Bentley plays Queen music. Everyone is very excited about this. Beepop.

Maybe-Anathema enters the house. This could have been before she finds the Antichrist. But if the show isn't linear I don't have to be either, I decide.

Crowley and Aziraphale panic a lot, but find time to eye each other hungrily and lovingly. They have priorities, and I respect that.

Crowley yells at his plants to grow better. He pretends to kill one of them. I cannot believe I was entirely right about my interpretation of that GIF. I am filled with confused anger. Later I find out that he is projecting how heaven told him he was a disappointment and threw him out. I am no longer angry. I am sad. This is an ongoing thing when it comes to Crowley.

A major plot point is Dog, the best friend of the Antichrist, having a face off with a fat tabby cat. Dog loses. It was doomed from the start.

Aziraphale gaslights gatekeeps and girlbosses. He assures heaven that everything is under control. It is not. That is okay. I think.

Heaven asks about Crowley. Aziraphale gets flustered. This is as per usual and he assures them that he is battling Crowley, who keeps him on his toes. I not-so-privately think that Crowley keeps him on his knees, really.

Things happen. I'm too busy thinking about Aziraphale's puppy eyes. He is a bitchy sweetheart. I love him.

More things happen. I'm too busy thinking about Crowley's sexy hips and shoulders and, well, everything.

The episode ends. I am still thinking about Crowley. I am always thinking about Crowley. Everyone is always thinking about Crowley.

This... this is all I remember. Have it, Tumblr.

[roe-and-memory]

its been enough time for me to stop gatekeeping and Immediately talk about how, in a human au, i choose to interpret the night in cars 1 where lightning and sally talk.

sally listens to mater and lightning talk, mater slowly driving down the main road and lightning trotting along beside, talking to him through the open window. the conversation goes how it does in the movie, nothing much changes there, but when they split lightning makes his way into the motel office to get his room key.

hes Dirty. hes got mud in his hair and sally just cringes because the rooms have white sheets and she does NOT want to scrub dirt off of them. she tells him that, he cant sleep in the room if hes gonna track dirt everywhere. he just kind of winces and apologizes. its not like he really has anything with him, and, on his crash into town, he cut his arm open pretty badly and has gauze wrapped around it. doc still isnt too fond of him, and he tells sally that he cant really shower because doc will Kill him if he ruins the bandages.

without hesitation and out of nowhere, sally is like well i can help you wash your hair in the sink right here! and she cant even process her offer until its already out of her mouth. he gets a kind of shocked look on his face and is like oh! okay. that’d be nice. and they both stand there awkwardly before one of them makes the first move (its sally; she quickly runs into the “back room aka her little apartment” to grab her shampoo)

lightning wanders around the counter, studies the stuff on her desk, and flinches when she reappears. he doesnt really know what do to so he just stands there and waits for instruction.

they get to talking, conversation Basically the same as it is in the movie, shes helping scrub the dirt out of his curly hair and its dawning on her that maybe hes not an awful person after all. maybe he Is a little misguided.

its a generally quiet scene, a majority of the light in the little office/lobby is from the streetlights outside, and its very comfortable. they get more comfortable as they chat, and its at this moment that she realizes maybe she even likes him.

the end of the conversation is the same, he thanks her for letting him stay and Also helping him feel a little cleaner considering he hasnt showered in what feels like years (its been like 3 days)

the next morning shes talking to flo and she thinks she can casually talk about how lightning is actually kind of nice and flos like ohhh honey ure so in love with him arent u. she immediately gets flustered and tries to deny it and all flo can do is give her the knowing motherly look of “u love him dont bullshit me!!!”

her and sallys conversation, though, kind of opens flos mind up to the idea of hearing lightning out — maybe he ISNT that bad.

anyways silly domestic salqueen Gets me . i think stuff like this becomes a little tradition between the two like just quiet comfortable chats over random little things. do you get me.

[brittle-doughie]

I have failed as a Pure vanilla simp 😔

Burnt Cheese kinda 🤭

Burnt cheese cookie with a MC! inspired by the Egyptian goddess Bastet (also inspired by Ankha from animal crossing but shhhh-)

MC is basically the sign of Protection, pleasure and good health inside of Golden cheese's kingdom. (Had to research that.)

What's different of MC? They're snooty asf, often judging people often.-🎀

“You seem not in the best spirits, Y/N (or Domiati) Cookie”

HAH! He was only now noticing that?! It’s those outlanders he has let into your goddess’s city! Smoked Cheese has a point, maybe these outsiders have a link to the increase in monster attacks! You will not allow them to bring harm to the Golden Cheese Kingdom and its citizens!

“They’ve past the Three Trials, but were not given the right to enter the kingdom.”

Then what were you both waiting for!? You snapped your fingers and a number of Marzipan Cookies arrived.

“What would you like for us to do, Domiati Cookie?”

Keep an eye on those outlanders, nothing good comes from cookies on the outside making a mess of things in your city and Golden Cheese especially wasn’t tolerant of any chaos happening in her kingdom-GAH!

You jolted when you felt someone scratch your ears from behind, causing your tail to stand up at attention as you turned around and took a step back, seeing that it was Burnt Cheese Cookie.

What was he doing?!

“Getting all worked up will not do any good to your dough”

Normally, you’d have the cookie that touched you quickly detained and sent away, but..this was Burnt Cheese doing the touching this time, so all you could do is growl loudly in irritation and face forwards again, a blush spreading across your face.

Burnt Cheese was lucky he was the gatekeeper…a cute one at that…

It was barely noticeable, but Burnt Cheese smiled at your flustered state.

The Marzipan Cookies, while blank-faced as ever, had also garnered blushes as they watched their Domiati Cookie get all red in the face, something you picked up right away.

WHAT?! You weren’t blushing! Not at all! That darn Burnt Cheese Cookie…

[lowkeyrobin]

hiiiiii can u pls make a tommy x fem!reader where they go on a fake date for a vlog (but its actually a secret plot by tommy or yn (u choose) to go on a date w the other bc theyve had a secret crush on thr other for a long time🤭🤭)

and then like,,,, in the middle of the date the other realizes that oh,,,, i like them

AND THEN CUE THE PANIC THAT COMES WITH REALIZING U LOVE UR BEST FRIEND IN THE MIDDLE OF A FAKE DATE AND THEN MAYBE AFTER FINISHING THE VLOG THEY LIKE REVEAL THEIR FEELINGS TO EACH OTHER AND AGREE TO GO ON A REAL DATE LATER???👁️👁️

omg yes of COURSEEEE ; also I do only do gn readers but I can 100% do the rest of this 💪💪 hope you enjoy 🫶 ; also djo is mentioned (I've been a fan since like 2020) do not start gatekeeping on me LMAO ; listening to my tommyinnit playlist while making this and 🙏🙏🙏🙏 (link can be found on my masterlist -> playlists 👍 it's a banger

TOMMYINNIT ; real date ❌️ fake date ✅️

summary ; you go on a fake date for a vlog and decide to go on a real one because the romantic tension got you both positively nauseated

warnings ; language

genre ; fluff

word count ; 1.5k

masterlist

"Y/n, you wanna go stop for food?" The blonde asks, dropping the vlog camera a bit as he hears his stomach grumble in hunger. "We can make it a date for the vlog" He suggests, praying you'd say yes.

You nod, agreeing to the bit and the food considering you were also beginning to starve. Meanwhile, he feels his intestines flip around in his torso, trying to hide a giggle of approval as you agree.

You stop at a little lunch place and dine in with some sandwiches and soup. You and Tommy sit at one of the half-booth-half-chair tables, and put the camera in front of you as you sit next to each other. You talk about and eat at the same time, basically doing a mini storytime for the vlog, considering he was trying to do a vlog challenge to upload every week and have his videos reach at least twenty minutes and you were down to help him.

Tommy tries to push off the weight off his shoulders, love pulling him down as he looks over at you, talking to the camera about a story from earlier. He feels his stomach fill with butterflies as you laugh and smile, your eyes twinkling like sun reflecting off of water.

He quickly looks back down at his food, trying to hide his longing eyes for you. His ears dust a little red, feeling flustered as you joke around with him, making little date conversation to play up the bit.

You eventually get into the joke as a whole, making fake flirty conversation, making both of you silently panic inside. It's obvious to everyone but you, his ears and cheeks dusted pink, you trying to hide your smile as your face warms up past the heat of the oven when you bake out-the-box cakes together. You have to walk out of the building because you were getting too loud with laughter and didn't want to disturb the other patrons.

You walk down the sidewalk together, talking on and on and opening up more than usual about a lot of things. Tommy shows off all the scenery as you walk, later to be edited with Empire State Of Mind in the background, considering you'd been traveling around New York together while Freddie and Jack did their own things around the city.

You take the camera after a few minutes, wanting to have some fun with it. From silly angles and .5's of your foreheads to the Empire State Building and the flashy lights and screens everywhere like Times Square, you got it all. You found it so fucking enjoyable, catching all the beauties of city life you'd never experienced before. The bustling streets and the sound of music coming from just about everywhere, it weirdly comforted you.

You hold the camera up high, zoomed all the way out to capture you and the blonde, singing along to End Of Beginning by Djo, the song playing in the earbuds you were sharing. I mean, this was the beginning of a new end, in all honesty, the tour, him, your new eras and styles of content, the new way you'd picked yourselves off the floor and made yourselves new people. You were both happy enough to be on the hectic rollercoaster of life with each other in the seat next to the other.

Tommy can't help but find your funny control over the camera and your jokes amusing, to say the least. He couldn't help but fall more head over heels than he already was. He didn't know how he didn't notice it already, but when you touched the concrete in New York City, he felt it. Something in him awakened, like he realized how amazing it was to have this tour going on, for one, two, you were there. You were always there. You were always right in fucking front of his eyes.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You lay face up on the bed in your hotel room, staring at the ceiling. The room is freezing considering the heater doesn't work, and you needed the window open to get some fresh air. You're wrapped in a blanket you'd brought from home for comfort, and hidden under the thick bedsheets you'd been given for the night.

The show went well as per usual, at least.

What wasn't going well was the fact you couldn't sleep.

All because of a certain blonde haired boy who was currently obsessed with sweatshirts and jeans.

His laugh was contagious, his smile shining a thousand sun's, his eyes flowing as deep as the sea you longed for back in Europe, which you frequently walked with MotherInnit. You could stare at him all day, you'd never realized how you felt about him, or the fact the way you thought about him was romantic.

You stare up at the ceiling, a boob light hanging above your feet. It was times like these where you wished you could afford a nicer hotel. The mattress itched of dirty sheets and crumbs, which were not caused by you, or maybe that was the fear of sleeping in a bed that wasn't yours... one of the two.

You wanted to stomp up to Tommy's room, a floor above you and down the hall some, to just rant about taking him on a proper date tomorrow considering how much you'd enjoyed your "date" earlier. But you didn't have the heart, you lay with your stomach twisting and turning, heart aching and burning for him by your side to warm you up.

The bustling city night life soothes you to sleep, the vehicles below on the streets all headed home or to work or around the city. The people shoulder to shoulder on the street, enjoying a peaceful walk to wherever their feet were taking them, the homeless girl you'd given a couple hundred dollars to earlier as she played her flute. A boy about her age had joined her since then, wielded with a guitar, possibly becoming friends through bonding with their interests and the fact they were both struggling.

You could hear their music even from four floors up and through the city traffic, it was beautiful. They fit together perfectly, like two neighboring pieces of a puzzle. You wished you felt that way with Tommy. You wished you could come clean to him about your feelings and how you really thought of him. Yet, tonight was not that night.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The panic had set in from last night now.

You were barely awake when you stared up at the ceiling, swooning over your best friend, but now you were wide awake and in total realization of your thoughts. You internally cringe every time you think about it, wanting to vanish off the face of the Earth.

Through the last day in New York, you found yourself avoiding Tommy at all costs. From wandering off with Freddie to eating by your lonesome and spending time in your hotel room to "edit videos," you'd probably only spent a half hour around him.

He was growing concerned while Jack and Freddie shared a knowing look, knowing exactly what was happening. They'd both known of his crush on you, which spanned past the past four or so months. You finally realized you liked him back and wanted to deny it.

The two wanted to intervene but decide to let fate run its course, trusting that your natural human instincts would bring you together again. You bump into the blonde in the hallway, needing to go get ice to sit in it for an hour in the bathtub as some sort of therapy, which Tommy highly always made fun of you for. You apologize, the empty bin for ice in your hands.

"Ice?" He asks, then groans with a smile, "You seriously gonna sit in ice til we have to leave for the airport tomorrow morning?"

You shrug with a light smile, feeling your heart racing. You hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out his beautiful voice.

"Y/n? You okay?" He speaks, snapping you back to reality.

Without any thought behind it, you shoot your shot. "Do you wanna go on an actual date sometime?" You quickly speak, stumbling over your words.

His face quickly shifts to a smile, his smile lines showing themselves off. "Yeah! Wait, no, I mean like, "Yeah, sure," not like, "I'm so desperate, yeah-"

"Cool!" You quickly rush past him, your hands sweaty, your face flushing as you dart towards the ice machine.

He turns and watches you quickly speed walk away, his cheeks burning bright as he smiles, watching you walk away.

TommyInnit ; fake and real dates with Y/n <3 ; 20:49 ; Posted 4 hours ago

Y/U/N left a comment!

Y/U/N ; youre actually a dork

TommyInnit replied to your comment!

TommyInnit ; well you couldn't pick between a fake and a real date, apparently. we had to do both

Y/U/N ; fake date ✅️ real date ❌️

TommyInnit ; people.

[allfearstofallto]

I hear your pleas for ideas loud and clear so I raise you yandere Kaeya gaslighting tf out of you. So talented you are, but you always fumble when it comes to presenting your skills to the world. Oh so many wonderful ideas in that mind of yours - too bad they die on your lips.

And that's why you need him. To save you from embarrassing yourself as you clutch your latest creation that would undoubtedly revolutionize some industry against your chest as your eyes burn with unshed tears. It always baffled him that you thought that you were worthy of that honor. I mean, you can't even order a meal without shaking like a leaf.

You aren't built for this lifestyle, now are you? Geniuses could easily bounce back from failure, yet here you are, soaking his shirt with your never-ending tears. Were you ever a genius?

(basically Kaeya gaslight gatekeep girlbossing talented inventor darling into oblivion bc I just know this man would be jealous if you were famous. I'm so sorry for writing so much but this idea has been eating me up inside so now I send it to you. May I be 🐇 Anon?)

🐇 anon, first of all, it is a pleasure to meet you! Secondly, my dear bun, you've saved my ass!! This was such a good prompt and it felt incredible to write!

Maybe I'm just in the mood to write gaslighting bitches cause this felt natural!!

Voiceless

Yandere! Kaeya x reader

TW: gaslight, and quite harsh words, but Kaeya is saying them so it's kinda sexy

If people could see what was going on inside your head, they'd think you were a genius. And you are, or at least, you believe that you are. But all those faces, all those eyes on you, those people looking at you makes your body go stiff and your words lodge in your throat. And in the end, you look like a bumbling idiot.

But you were his bumbling idiot. That's what he'd tell you at least. Hurtful words yes, but he meant them in an endearing way. His phrases were sweet and loving, even if to the average person they sounded a bit harsh. You explained to people that he didn't truly mean it that way, he was just trying to make you feel better.

“And how was it today?” He’d asked you. He always looked like a work of art when he came home from his long shifts. Every strap and piece of clothing would be pulled from his body as he spoke, he was so careless about showing himself off in front of you, but you were still flustered and shy around him.

With a sheepish smile, you held up the mora that he'd given you to use for a drink, completely untouched. You couldn't even bring yourself to leave the house. A dramatic sigh fell from his lips, but he still kneeled on the couch and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

“Oh, you sweet, poor thing,” he whispered in your ear. He took your cheeks into his hands and squeezed them lightly, like he was coddling a child, “Still so shy aren't you? It's okay, I speak for you.”

It's like you breathed a sigh of relief when he spoke. All the weight of the world was lifted off your shoulder. You were a genius, yes, but you were a genius who could barely speak a full sentence to anyone. Except for Kaeya.

His charming smile and flashy personality made you weary at first. Why would someone like him be interested in something so quiet and timid? You felt like a coal in comparison to his flashy, diamond-like nature. Your mind was like a maze, endless corners and rooms filled with ideas, but you got lost in them as well, and just ended up choking on your own words.

Kaeya released you from his warm embrace and sat down next to you. He looked at the coffee table in front of you, covered in ideas and doodles that you'd have for your latest inventions. Your mouth never moved, but your brain was a constant machine, most days you couldn't get it to shut up. It all had to be let out, in notes or drawings.

He picked up one of the random pages, an idea for a water filter, and a chuckle fell from his lips, “And how would you pitch this one?” He asked. The way those words fell from his lips felt condescending, he already knew that you couldn't do it, but you knew better than to think that. It was just his love, it was how he showed it, he wanted you to succeed.

You felt yourself flush even thinking about it, but you still stood with the paper in your hands. Walking to the other side of the coffee table, you looked down at the notes you'd written. It was all there. Everything about your idea was right there, everything you needed to say was right in front of you. But when you looked up from the page, you felt dizzy, the letters on the paper began to merge and swirl together.

It was like your world had tilted on its axis and suddenly everything was lopsided. You felt yourself spinning, but you knew you were standing perfectly still. The only person looking at you was Kaeya. His beautiful self, like a statue crafted by the gods, was sitting there, focused on you.

An average person would love and adore the amount of attention someone like Kaeya gave. A smolder on his lips and all a sparkle in his eye. But you weren't the average person and you already felt as if you were sinking into yourself, like the world was about to swallow you whole, and before you knew it, tears had started to fall from your eyes.

“Can't even talk in front of me anymore, can you?” He asked and you gave him a slow, solemn nod. You tried to hold back sobs as you realized how truly useless you were. Unable to speak in front of even your own boyfriend, a true genius would never suffer from this.

“I'm- I'm sorry,” you'd somehow managed to stutter through your apology, but that much was to be expected of you. Tears fell onto the page and smeared the ink of your notes, but it didn't matter, it's not like you were going to read it anyways.

“That's the problem, my love,” he cooed to you in his usual tone, he stood from the couch and began scooping up all the pages that lay on the coffee table. All your ideas, all your work was crumbled up into a ball. It stung a bit, seeing everything you had worked so hard to make be treated like trash and thrown away, but nothing hurt more than your failures, “You're not built for this kind of thing. You know that, right?” He spoke close to your face, your lips brushing against your, soft like flower petals on your skin.

“I know,”

“But that's okay. Do you know why?” He asked, placing a gentle hand on your face and squeezing the fat of your cheeks.

“Because I'm yours. And I don't need to be smart to be yours,”

He held you close to his chest, peppering your forehead with kisses. All your work was thrown in the trash. “It's only making you unhappy,” he said. And he was right. You weren't ready for this. This type of thing wasn't for you. You only needed him.

So you lay in his arms and tried to stop the sniffling. He was the only person you'd need to talk to, he'd be your voice if needed be. You were only hurting yourself trying to do these things that you weren't made for.

[hee-blee-art]

part 2 of the new postman! alfred is nervous :)

[ <- part 1 ] [ directory ] [ part 3 -> ]

[ID: Five comic pages of a colourful cartoony toyland.

Basil, a black and white cat marionette, is walking down a small road. He reaches a large castle-looking wall with tall golden gates and gatehouse towers on either side. Beyond the wall is a sprawling city. Basil stops to take it all in in the morning light.

BASIL: [whistles] Well I’ll be. Kinda fancy ‘round here. Got a wall with a big gate and everything…

Sir Alfred, a nutcracker doll dressed in a red uniform and black cap, is sitting in one of the towers, engrossed in reading a book titled “The Mystery of the Emerald Spectacles.” He spots Basil through the outward facing window of the gatehouse and quickly sets the book aside and goes to the window, a little flustered. 

ALFRED: Oh! Hello! Good morning! Ahem—what can I help you with, good sir?

B: Well, opening up the gate would be a good start.

A: Right! Yes. My apologies, it’s usually open by now, I was just busy with, ehm—here—just a moment.

Alfred cranks the gate open and then joins Basil on the inside of it, now breathless from working the gate crank. Basil marvels at the city.

A: Welcome—huff, huff—to Toyhouse Corners!

Alfred dashes over to Basil and holds out his hand. 

A: I’m Sir Alfred, the gatekeeper and the town guard. And who might you be?

Basil looks at Alfred’s hand but doesn’t shake it. 

B: …Basil. Uh, Postman Basil. 

A: Postman? Is Gertie out sick today? 

B: Nope. I’m the new postman for this area—so, mostly your fair city, it seems. 

A: Oh! Hm. I wasn’t informed there was to be a switch up. What happened to Gertie?

B: [shrugging] Dunno. Maybe she kicked the bucket?

A: Good heavens! Well, I… I mean, I suppose she was getting up in years… oh my, how very dreadful.

B: Hold on, you said you’re Sir Alfred, right?

A: Uhm, yes, I am.

Basil digs around in his delivery bag.

B: You’re my first delivery.

end ID.]

[strwberri-milk]

ok, so I've thinking of something, but I am not creative enough, and I'm not gatekeeping my genius idea.

would you take advantage of my idea? 😽 please 🙏

so, jealous kaeya x puppy fem reader + "what? cat caught your tongue?", "brats don't get to cum", "beg for it, let me know you deserve it", "you're mine and I'm yours, got it?"

like, reader has been teasing him all day and BOOM

btw, I love your writing, keep it going

this is kinda similar to my other set of hcs of kaeya coming back after a hard day and fucking the shit out of his puppygirl lover uwu so feel free to look for that under the kaeya smut tag/kaeya x reader (im still scared to put links in my posts)

You were being a brat, and brats deserve to get punished. Kaeya knows for sure that you know what you're doing with the way you look up at him after doing something "bad" or the impish grin you give him after pushing his buttons.

Due to how busy he was right now, Kaeya wasn't able to properly tell you off the way he wanted to. Instead, he's forced to just sit back and bear it, eye watching you closely as you flit about and continue to tease him. Not only that, but he had to watch you flaunt yourself for everybody else at the headquarters could see. He was proud of the way they looked back at him with envy, but he also wanted to keep you all to himself, something becoming increasingly more difficult as you continued to talk to whoever pulled your attention.

His eye trails the lines of your body, knowing you chose what you were wearing today to purposefully fluster him. Instead of him getting worked up in the softer way you might have been planning to. You were just thinking of making him give you a bit more affection, shower you in soft kisses and just be very sweet. Since he wasn't, you decided to up the ante by coming down to headquarters to get him to give you more attention again, even if i meant tricking some of the other knights into giving you the attention that Kaeya wasn't able to yet.

That very innocent desire was unable to be fulfilled thanks to Kaeya perverting it. He couldn't get over the swell of your lips, the thought of holding your hips in his hands, the need to pull your body under his. Everything you did was pushing him further and further off the edge.

You had just finished spending the last hour sitting in his lap, cuddling into his neck as your tail languidly made its home on his waist. He liked the gentle pressure of it pressing against his stomach, but the heat of your core was beginning to make his head spin. There was no way for you to get your punishment right now, but he was concocting several plans to get back at you. You give him a kiss goodbye, ignoring the evil glint in his expression as you leave his office.

Your hands are buried in the sheets, Kaeya's fingers holding them tightly as his hips piston into you over and over again. He's done more than enough to melt your brain, currently sucking more dark marks into your neck and collar. Thankfully for you, his pace slowed to a grind, letting your walls clench over him as you give him your pathetic little whines.

"What? Cat got your tongue? You're so quiet now," he muses against your neck, reveling in the soft moan you give him when he shifts a bit.

"Come on, where'd all that spunk go, huh? Where was that energy when you had every knight drooling over how good you looked today?" he taunts a little further, laughing just a little evilly when your grip tightens on him in response.

You were dripping all over his thighs, unable to cum thanks to his incredibly inconsistent and patient self. He could feel your thighs spasming a little around his hips, knees trying to lock together to force him into fucking you to completion but failing miserably.

"You want to cum, don't you?" Your ears perk up at the thought, whimpering softly as your tail smacks the bed lightly.

"I told you you can't cum unless you begged me, and you haven't done enough of that yet," he says mildly condescendingly, sitting back up to admire your ruined body underneath him.

"Please," you say meekly, the light jangling of the collar Kaeya made you wear louder than your voice.

"I can't hear you," he sings slightly, bringing a hand down so he can use the pad of his thumb to rub at your clit.

The reaction is immediate. You let out a pathetic sounding yip, whimpering and melting into the sheets as his dick starts to bring you back up to the high you were almost able to achieve earlier. Your back arches high, practically shoving your tits in his face as he starts to fuck you earnestly again.

"You're fucking mine, you got it?" he growls, leaning over your body as you pant.

"You're mine, and only mine. I'm the only one who gets to hear these noises, the only one who gets to fuck you like this. Nobody else is allowed to touch you, you hear me?"

You nod quickly, using your newly freed hand to scratch angry lines down his back.

"Yours, I'm - mn - yours!" you cry out, trying to implore him to let you cum.

"Please let me cum! I want to cum on your cock so bad, please, please, Kaeya I'm yours, and you're mine! You're the only one who can make me feel this good, please just let me cum!"

Your begging finally does it for him and Kaeya quickly pulls out to flip you on all fours. Your body aches to be fucked like this, sharply yelping when he slides back into you by way of pulling your hips over his cock via your tail. The tight grip he has on both your hips and tail makes you scream, squirting all over the bed from the constant edging he had just subjected you to.

Kaeya can feel your juices soaking him even further, creamy hole dripping down his shaft to line his balls. All of it makes his eyes role into the back of his head as he finally cums deep inside of you. However, he refuses to stop there, continuing to fuck you over and over and over again until your body refuses to forget the shape of his cock.

[jester-lover]

Dorm Leaders with a Goth Girlfriend

Warnings: Fluff, insecurity, mentions of past mistreatment, overuse of the ‘lipstick kiss’ trope, Author wants more people to experience goth music

A/N: I notice how often the fanfic community focuses in on the clothing/makeup (dw, this post has a lot of that too) relating to the goth subculture, I want more people to experience the music! I left a goth song recommendation I think fits each character, from gothic metal to softer new wave, I hope you enjoy my head canons, and check out some new music! No gatekeeping here.

Riddle Rosehearts

He definitely finds himself attracted to your confidence, wearing all black and leather.

“Doesn’t it get warm? Wearing all black?”

Riddle is, deep down in his heart, insecure about himself and his identity; your presence helps him explore different parts of himself.

Teenage rebellion!

He finds himself loving your more romantic gothic looks, with Victorian skirts and pirate shirts, it accents his look well, you both look so pretty next to each other

He asks you for eyeliner tips

A song that reminds me of Riddle is: Dear Prudence, Covered by Souxie and the Banshees

Leona Kingscholar

You are right up his alley! I mean, look at him, he looks like a grunge cowboy, he’s so down for the way you dress

Certified woman-respector, will personally beat the crap out of anyone who’s talking bad about you

Loves it when you get all ‘dolled up’ and show him new music

Dolled up meaning extreme goth, deathhawk, leather, piercings, the whole nine yards

Just be a little careful with gothic metal, homie has sensitive ears

“When did I get so lucky, hm?”

A song that reminds me of Leona is: Black No. 1 by type 0 Negative

Azul Ashengrotto

Flustered fishy fishman

He finds you so intriguing, a mysterious traveler from another dimension, dressed in leather lace and fishnet

You love covering him in black lipstick kisses, sometimes one of the twins will catch him wiping off the lipstick and snicker

Definitely adores goth love songs, especially from the 80s

“Y/N, I found this old song and it reminded me of you.”

A song that reminds me of Azul: Sea Swallow Me by the Cocteau Twins and Harold Budd

Kalim Al-Asim

Opposite attraction really worked this time, huh?

He’s so stoked to have a goth girlfriend, homie is bouncing off the walls everytime he sees you

He’s the type of boyfriend to always be able to figure out if you changed your look. New hair color? Cool! New piercing? Awesome! Cut all your hair off? Twinsies!!!

Literally so cute he will always listen to the music you recommend, he has a whole playlist he listens to whenever he misses you

“Oh my goodness Y/N! I adore your new piercings!”

A song that reminds me of Kalim is: Friday I’m in Love by The Cure

Vil Shoenheit

He’s a little iffy at first, giving the unconventional look and all, but when Vil falls, he falls head over heels.

He is the world’s biggest worrywart boyfriend, he’s literally stressing so hard about whatever hijinks you’re getting up to.

You’re going to a concert? Take a can of pepper spray. New piercing? Follow the proper aftercare to a T. Hair dye? Moisturizing shampoo, immediately.

His fans begin to notice a slight difference in his daily makeup, a darker tone of eyeliner or lipstick. It’s his little way of showing off his ‘taken’ status

His favorite gothic music is more repetitive gothic rock, his guilty pleasure.

“Dearest, please refrain from covering me in your lipstick, save that for when we’re alone.”

A song that reminds me of Vil is: Right Here in my Arms by H.I.M

Idia Shroud

You two share a similar yet different style, he’s a lot more laid back

On the topic of music, he really loves Synthwave, the electronic vibe is so up his alley

He probably gets super shy if you wear more revealing goth clothing, but he’ll look up to you and your confidence

He loves looking for more gothic games for you two to play together, he absolutely loves the way your eyes light up

If you give him a kiss and leave a lipstick mark on his face, he’ll love you forever

Mmmmm domesticity

“Y/N, I found this anime you would like it has this butler who’s also a demon and he’s dressed all cool and he reminds me of you and-“

A song that reminds me of Idia is: Fade to Grey by Visage

Malleus Draconia

Wowowowow matching aesthetics I see

You tend to lean into the music of the subculture, while Malleus opts to lean into a gothic royal aesthetic

(If you know anything about Jrock and the band Malice Mizer, he gives me Mana Sama energy)

He adores the goth music you share with him, especially slower romantic goth songs, those that allow him to daydream about you

“I have met my perfect match.”

A song that reminds me of Malleus is: Sacrifice by London After Midnight

Bonus! More alternative songs I think fit them

Riddle: Mutter- Rammistein

Leona: The Lion from the North- Sabaton

Azul: Dr. Feelgood- Motley Crue

Kalim: No One Lives Forever- Oingo Boingo

Vil: Ziggy Stardust, covered by Bauhaus

Idia: Gentlemen Take Polaroids- Japan

Malleus: Ma Cherie- Malice Mizer

Thank you for reading!! I would love some feedback, this is one of my first posts I’m really proud of! I would love to make more like this!

[statustemporary]

take my hand, take a breath

SUMMARY: Viscount Bridgerton was stubborn, frustrating, got in his own way more often than not, and there was a melancholy about his person most times when she saw him, but she gave him more leeway than she did nearly all of the rest of the Ton.

Except when conversing with her charge before an introduction, a conversation that is decidedly not their first.

//

Or Lady Danbury notices Kate has given them the slip during the Conservatory Ball and she finds her charge having a conversation with the viscount in the garden.

RATING: General Audiences

WORD COUNT: 1,760 words

TAGS: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Conservatory Ball AU, First Dance, no beta we die like edmund bridgerton

AO3

AUTHOR’S NOTE: ahhh not only is this the most i've written since like october??? but this is also my first work for bridgerton. kanthony brainrot has never left me so time to put it to paper. anyway this was inspired by one of my 87 different fanfic prompts i've been posting to tumblr (on @myficprompts) in hopes others will write it but i got impatient on this one and figured i'd just do it myself. (would love to see someone take on the original prompt though! please!!!!! thanks!!!)

***

Despite the way they have butted heads since their introduction, Lady Danbury had a begrudging respect for Miss Sharma. Her obstinance in the face of harsh truths was admirable to a degree. Frustrating, to be certain. Ill-mannered, to some extent. Yet the firm set of her shoulders, straight back, and words infused with a note of smugness proved she would be a formidable gatekeeper for her sister’s suitors.

If only the miss would not write herself off so young. Old maid by the Ton’s standards, unfortunately, but by her own, she had a full life still ahead of her.

Miss Sharma may have rejected her suggestion of a match but the curious way in which she admired Viscount Anthony Bridgerton also proved that the walls fortified around her young heart were not impenetrable.

Which meant that Miss Sharma’s disappearance in the midst of her sister’s first dance raised alarm.

As much as she had written herself off, she was still under Lady Danbury’s protection. Personal declarations of not being on the marriage mart did not make her unsusceptible to being compromised or other scandal. A thought that she would have hoped Miss Sharma to consider before wandering off but as Lady Danbury learned earlier, there was still much for her to learn about the Ton.

The dowager parted ways from a nervous Lady Mary with nothing more than a quip about watching her thirst before she moved about the room. The music covered the sound of her cane clacking against the wood floor and gave Lady Danbury the ability to slink along the walls of the conservatory.

Her stop at the set of windows near the entrance door proved most fruitful. She heard the faint sounds of gentlemen departing for the smoking room and, just before she continued her search, she spied her own charge stepping into close proximity to the viscount.

In view of the ballroom and still a respectable distance to not cause scandal, Lady Danbury did not appreciate the familiar nature in which the two conversed, especially as they had not been introduced. Huffing, she made her way to the entry garden.

“…as deficient as your horsemanship. I shall bid you goodnight.”

Lady Danbury came around the hedge at the same moment as Miss Sharma, their bodies nearly colliding.

“Miss Sharma,” she drawled, resting both hands on the head of her cane. She scrutinized the young woman, her eyes traveling to the flustered man who gaped at them like a fish out of water. “Viscount Bridgerton. How curious to find you both out here. Together.”

“My apologies, Lady Danbury – ” Viscount Bridgerton attempted to speak before Miss Sharma cut in suddenly, louder.

“I simply needed air. I did not realize I had to alert you of my need for a break.” She smiled, thin-lipped and with a hint of frustration – at the viscount, at her, at the situation – before bowing her head to Lady Danbury.

“Yes, well, seeing as you are under my protection,” Lady Danbury said, a warning glance to Viscount Bridgerton as he looked equal parts fearful and thrilled at the information, “I fear I did not stress the seriousness of some of the Ton’s etiquette specificities. It is of the utmost importance that they are understood, to lessen any troubles of your sister making a good match. Understood?”

Miss Sharma bit her tongue, her eyes darting to the side to the silent viscount behind her. “Of course, Lady Danbury,” she forced out.

“Lady Danbury, if I may – ”

Her eyes narrowed as she focused on the boy she’d known since he was in leading strings. A boy no longer if the title of Rake he’d worn without care for years meant anything. She always had a soft spot for the Bridgerton family. Her own connection aside, to find a love match such as the one between Edmund and Violet, a love match that proved fruitful until the eighth viscount’s death, was a rarity in the Ton. The strength of the family bonded by that love match showed in the closeness of the children and the genuine love and affection they showered upon each other. Even when she’d watch the children squabble and fight, it was never with the nasty cold demeanor of the rest of the Ton.

Then to watch as Anthony took on the role of viscount, father, and provider before heading to university had softened her more. Lady Danbury admired the way he took care of his family and how he not only kept them afloat following his father’s death but ensured that they thrived. He was stubborn, frustrating, got in his own way more often than not, and there was a melancholy about his person most times when she saw him, but she gave him more leeway than she did nearly all of the rest of the Ton.

Except when conversing with her charge before an introduction, a conversation that is decidedly not their first. She did, after all, recall Miss Sharma’s slip of the tongue on the edge of the dance floor.

“You have done quite enough, Viscount Bridgerton.”

Her glare silenced the viscount as his mouth thinned and his brows furrowed in displeasure.

“Lady Danbury, I must go see to my sister – ”

“Your sister is being looked after by your mother, Miss Sharma. Perhaps you should let those of us seasoned within the Ton take over from here.”

Miss Sharma pressed her lips together for a moment before she responded. “With all due respect, as I mentioned earlier, I was the one to prepare my sister for her debut and I really should be helping to vet the quality of her dance partners…”

The young woman’s words never made it to Lady Danbury’s ears as her eyes were too busy taking in the scene before her. They flickered between Miss Sharma and Viscount Bridgerton with a quick and startling realization.

Cut from the same cloth, they stood before her as the eldest siblings of their families, the caretakers and providers, with strong shoulders upon which the heavy burdens of their families laid. The protectors who cannot see the wood for the trees in regards to the marriage mart.

Equals.

“Hm,” Lady Danbury cut Miss Sharma off. “A dance is a brilliant idea.”

“My lady?” Miss Sharma asked, blinking her eyes in confusion.

“Pardon me?” Viscount Bridgerton asked behind her.

Lady Danbury hit her cane against the ground. Even without the sound of its impact, the two before her stood just a hair taller. She raised her voice as the doors to the ballroom opened. “How wonderful of Viscount Bridgerton to ask for your next dance. Splendid indeed!”

Miss Sharma huffed. “He absolutely did nothing of the sort. He cannot even dance.”

Viscount Bridgerton rolled his eyes. “Now you object to my dancing abilities?”

“I saw how you nearly trampled the young miss on your last dance.”

A smug grin worked its way onto his face as he stepped closer. “So you admit to eavesdropping and watching me now?”

“As I said, it is not eavesdropping if you speak loud enough for the entire party to hear!”

Lady Danbury cleared her throat and raised her eyebrows expectantly at the two in front of her. She swung out her cane, hitting their shins and watching in satisfaction as the two stepped apart though neither were entirely pleased.

“Yes, a dance will be a nice way to tidy this situation up. Afterall,” she said, lowering her voice, “it would not do well for others to know of your conversations and familiarity prior to an introduction. And I will require to know just how familiar you are with each other.”

Miss Sharma laughed off the suggestion. “That will not be necessary, Lady Danbury. I do not host any of the, what was it,” she turned to the viscount for a moment with a saccharine smile before facing Lady Danbury once more. “Ah, yes, impeccable qualities that Viscount Bridgerton is in search of in a wife.”

This time, the huff came from the viscount’s mouth. “That is completely unfair and you know it, Miss Sharma,” he said, a teasing lilt endearing to his voice as he said her name, negating the frustration that colored it prior. He cleared his throat before she could respond and grinned at Lady Danbury much like the cat that ate the canary. “However, you are right, Lady Danbury. A dance is a wonderful idea to mitigate any chance of scandal.”

She watched in amusement as Viscount Bridgerton’s grin widened when he turned to Miss Sharma. He lifted his hand and held it out to her, waiting for a moment.

“Miss Sharma, may I have this dance?”

Despite his proud swagger, the viscount’s request came out soft and like a whisper. His eyes crinkled and his gaze warmed, melting the arrogance that so often moved him forward. For a moment, Lady Danbury felt as if she was witnessing Edmund charming Violet all over again.

Miss Sharma’s breath hitched in the back of her throat at the intimacy that laced his words and she swallowed before quietly answering her agreement. Her hand shook, though Lady Danbury assumed she was the only one to notice, as she lifted it to place in the viscount’s.

Lady Danbury hummed in satisfaction as she allowed the two to enter the ballroom before her, Viscount Bridgerton’s perfect posture only lending to the peacocking he did as he led Miss Sharma to the dance floor. If she knew the viscount as well as she believed to, his peacocking, was less of a matter of besting Miss Sharma at their undisclosed challenge and more at having her on his arm, contrary to what he was currently telling himself. The way their eyes never strayed from one another as they readied themselves only proved her point.

From the corner of her eye, she watched Violet’s jaw drop minutely before their eyes met.

Did he willingly ask…? Her oldest friend seemed to ask. Lady Danbury nodded with a smug smile. The viscount who saw finding a wife more of a duty and chore than a chance for happiness, bewitched by a so-called spinster.

The music started and the two moved in perfect harmony. Their connection was palpable and they enchanted the room as they seemed to float through each step. Only when they began to whisper amongst themselves, a mix of bickering and flirting, did Lady Danbury notice the queen’s arrival at her side.

“What an interesting season this will be,” Queen Charlotte murmured, her smile pleased and mischievous.

“Interesting, indeed.”

[minecraftbookshelf]

Gone Fishing

Mr. InTheLittleWood I know you’re in your tags on here, walk away from this one.

(No, this isn't Marriage of State, that is still with my beta, this is something i started writing for Mermay and then semi-abandoned until these past couple of weeks.)

Mildly Dark Comedy Urban Fantasy Adventures featuring Sleep Deprived Martyn, Selkie!Scott, and Swan Maiden!Cleo and Pearl.

AO3

Rating: T on AO3

Wordcount: ~4k

Characters: Martyn InTheLittleWood, Scott Smajor, ZombieCleo, PearlescentMoon, bonus appearances by JoeHills (with accompanying breaking of the fourth wall) and Rendog.

Relationships: Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss + Martyn (its not quite Divorcee Quartet imo) Background Martyn?Ren and Referenced Past Flower Husbands

Warnings: Off-screen murder and on-screen blood spatter, kidnapping, selkie tropes and the adjacent concepts

-

This is directly inspired by that one tumblr post (I'll link it if i ever successfully find it again) that starts out "swan maidens would be hella built and down for violence, actually" and ends with "a swan maiden and a selkie team up and do violence"

-

3AM calls directly after the full moon are officially Martyn's nemesis. Nonetheless, he listens to the flustered emergency dispatcher stammer through a semi-explanation of the situation. (Murder. Kidnapped mythicals. The usual. He's not even on call this week; how and why is he the only Hunter in the area?) He hauls himself out of bed, knocks on Ren's door on the way out to let him know he is leaving and grabs his keys. He pauses, halfway out the front door and texts Ren because there is no way he'll remember given that he probably didn't even wake up when Martyn knocked, deep asleep and dead to the world in a way only exhausted werewolves can manage.

It's a bit of a drive; some fancy, palace-like mansion outside town on the far side. About as far away as it can get while still being in Martyn's district.

He gets two more calls on the way over, one from the same dispatcher, one from the police on the scene, practically begging him to hurry up with all the usual frantic desperation of humans who've never encountered magic before.

He stops for coffee.

It's a right mess by the time he does arrive; multiple police complete with flashing lights. The press (complete with their own version of flashing lights) a coroners van, at least five ambulances, and an arch-fey lurking by the tree-sized bush sculpted into a pegasus.

Oh no.

Joe Hills gives a jaunty wave that Martyn returns on autopilot.

There's only one reason Joe Hills ever leaves Tennessee.

One cup of coffee is not enough to deal with Cleo.

Much less what they usually drag with them.

Maybe-if Martyn is really, really lucky-Cleo was flying solo when they got mixed up in whatever the hell this is. (Even if they tend a bit more towards arson than murder.) Maybe its just them and not any of the rest of their crew.

He slips through the frazzled crowd of medical and law enforcement personnel, taking note of the battered and sickly looking people sitting in the backs of the ambulances, all of them visibly Not Exactly Human. He recognizes the vampire in the nearest one. Her missing persons case has been sitting on Jimmy's desk at Guild HQ for almost six months now with no new leads. She's sipping on a blood packet while a nervous paramedic hovers just out of her immediate reach.

Now he just has to find someone who knows what's going on-

"Hiyaa!"

Oh no.

Scott Smajor is sitting in the entryway of the stupidly fancy house, wrapped in a shock blanket, practically beaming at Martyn around the paramedic who is very clearly just trying to do their job and is not being paid enough for this.

Martyn can relate.

Scott's smile is wide and bright, his eyes are glassy and feverish, and he's visibly shaking. There is blood spattered on his clothes. And that is just what Martyn can see around the blanket.

He should revisit that offer from the Syndicate. He's pretty sure their annual salary is double what the Guild pays. More than enough to make up for not being a strictly legal operation. Half the stuff Ren brings into their apartment would get them both imprisoned in a pocket dimension somewhere for centuries anyway, might as well go all in.

With a resigned sigh he sucks it up, sticks his hands in his pockets, and strolls up to the front steps.

"Well if it isn't our favorite friendly neighborhood black widow," he says, dry as summer in purgatory. Already piecing together the picture to form something of a complete answer to the question of 'what happened.' "Fancy meeting you here."

Scott actually has the audacity to look offended. "Excuuse you. Most of my husbands are still alive."

Based off the amount of blood spatter on his clothes and the presence of the coroners van, Martyn is going to assume that the most recent one isn't.

'Clothes' is a bit of a generous term. Scott is wearing what most people would consider appropriate-if a bit risque- for clubbing, and what Martyn recognizes as what Scott wears when he's hunting. Most strongly indicated not by what he is wearing but by one very specific and important thing he isn't. This kind of scenario usually ends in at least a week of headaches and several different levels of bureaucratic hell for Martyn that he has to deal with all on his own because Jimmy and Scott are apparently fighting or something and Jimmy reuses to touch anything to do with this nonsense with a fifty foot pole. That could also just be Jimmy deciding to be smart for once and growing a backbone at a time extremely inconvenient for Martyn in particular.

Every day, Martyn regrets getting mixed up in mythical society. If he'd known it outstripped even the smallest of small towns on the 'everyone knows everyone' front he would have run so fast in the other direction. No matter what Grian had to offer. And now he's stuck here.

"Speaking of husbands," Scott purrs, craning to look around the paramedic, ostensibly at Martyn but he's really not as subtle as he thinks in the way he scans the driveway around Martyn's car. "Where is your partner?" He's hiding it well, but his jaw is tense and his eyes pinched. It's probably been hours since he was Separated.

"So what kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time?" Martyn ignores his question and brushes past it, offering an alternate distraction he is actually willing to play along with. He does not have the energy to deal with the drama surrounding his partner and said partner's ex(?)-husband, especially when Jimmy isn't here to give a hard time over it. It already gets brought up way too much every time Scott pops up yet again, dancing merrily back and forth across the line between victim and perpetrator in yet another one of their cases.

"Are you the Guild agent?" A loud voice demands from behind him.

Martyn whirls on his heel, far more ready to trust Scott at his back than some random police. (Not that he would ever admit it.) "I am!" he responds brightly, deliberately irritating in the way he knows best. "What happened here, Officer?"

The policeman, clearly someone important by the lack of wear and tear on his...everything, pulls himself pompously up to his full, rail-thin height and peers down at Martyn over his nose. "Aren't you lot supposed to keep your rabble in check?"

Oh, its going to be like that, is it?

Martyn fixes a blandly polite smile on his face and slips his voice into something a little bit more professional. "That still doesn't answer my question. What happened here?" Behind the officer he can see Joe Hills, still lingering amongst the topiary, eyes fixed on the officer's back. Suddenly it is a lot more reassuring, knowing there is an exit strategy for the people without the protection of a government employee ID. Even if that exit strategy is one of the most dangerously unpredictable beings Martyn is aware of. Which really is saying something.

"That," The officer (Hughes, his nameplate says) jabs a finger over Martyn's shoulder, presumably at Scott. "Has murdered an upstanding citizen and has the audacity to claim immunity!"

Martyn cocks his head to the side. "From where I'm standing, you're pointing the finger at a selkie missing his skin, so yeah, there is probably immunity involved."

"Well first of all," Cleo announces their presence as they emerge from the depths of the house, trailed by a very nervous looking police officer.

They stop in the doorway to drop a bundle on Scott's head, the dark mass makes contact with his bright blue hair and unfolds to drape over him. By the time Scott has discarded the shock blanket to wrap himself in his pelt instead, Cleo has stepped past him to stand shoulder to shoulder with Martyn. They're taller than Officer Hughes, which a very petty part of Martyn appreciates. The crisp white feathers of their own skin tickle his arms as they cross their arms. There is blood spatter on their feathers.

"He didn't kill the asshole," they continue without so much as looking at Martyn. "He physically couldn't. I did. And I'd do it again."

Cleo is hardly new to scenes like this, neither are they squeamish. The combined records of the entirety of their little squad speak to that. But something about this one clearly has them rattled and angry. At least Officer Hughes is here to take the brunt instead of them turning it on Martyn.

"Chapter four of the Magical Coexistence Treaties, Section B, Paragraph 13; 'Should the autonomy of any selkie, swan maiden, or similar being be violated, any and all members of their pod/flock can take whatever measures they deem necessary to right and/or avenge the wrong and secure the freedom of the violated party or, should the victim have perished, obtain were-guild from the one who harmed them.'"  Cleo rattles off the sentences that Martyn knows by heart at this point, from the frequency he's encountered them in more or less this exact context with this exact cast.

They point at Scott. "Selkie." They point to themself. "Swan." They gesture back and forth between the both of them. "Pod, flock, whatever you want to call it. And given I just retrieved his skin from the asshole's locked personal office I think his autonomy was violated enough." Their voice is deeply sarcastic in the way that only Cleo can be. Martyn is half-surprised Officer Hughes isn't on the ground bleeding from it.

"And all that was before we found the dungeon in the basement." They turn to Martyn, brushing Hughes off with as much concern as if he were a fly. "He was a collector, apparently. And he'd been at it awhile."

Martyn looks around the assembled ambulances and their occupants with a new, more critical eye. A starved and weakened vampire, a silver-collared werewolf, two nervous and twitch sirens (wrapped in damp blankets as a paramedic with a lock-picking kit fiddles with the muzzles fitted around their faces. Martyn makes a mental note; someone with flexible skills set like that might work out at the Guild. And they can always use more medical personnel.) an emaciated naga. As he turns back two more paramedics emerge behind them, carefully wheeling out a criminally (literally) small tank containing brackish water and an insensate mer.

Oh this is going to be so much paperwork.

Martyn is very glad the guy is dead. At least that means he won't have to work on a prosecution on top of everything else.

"There's more inside," Scott says behind them. Martyn glances over his shoulder and is glad to see him looking a lot less feverish and pained than before with the return of his pelt. "I got a grand tour. He's got a dragon-hide hanging on the wall in the library and a whole hall of displayed...parts."

So much paperwork.

Jimmy had better enjoy that vacation. They'll still probably be sorting this all out when he gets back.

"He was going to put me in a concrete enclosure, Martyn, he showed me. It's so ugly. Almost as bad as the rest of his house."

Of course that is equally offensive to Scott's sensibilities as his entire free will being stolen. That tracks.

There is still an elephant in the room that Martyn hasn't sen hide nor feather of at all.

"Pearl?" He asks Cleo, almost dreading the answer.

"Left already."

Suspicious, but at least it means he only has to deal with Gaslight and Gatekeep here. Or whatever they call themselves.

This time.

Because this is not the first time The Terrible Honeypot Trio, as they are unofficially referred to at Guild headquarters, have used this exact legal loophole to go after a creep or two. The murder is outside the norm, admittedly. Usually they limit themselves to theft and arson. It's a very lucrative racket for them and they have it down to a science. Dress Scott (its usually Scott; Cleo is scary and Pearl has a stab first ask questions later policy) up, flaunt his selkie status, and dangle him in front of a bunch of rich guys and see who takes the bait.

And every angle of it is legal.

Multiple Guild members are of the opinion that, whatever their (financial) motivations they are also providing a valuable public service. Their trail of victims is also a trail of overall shitty and predatory people that the Guild can make sure get nailed for something else, whether mythical or mundane in nature.

Ultimately, given that all someone has to do to not end up as a target of 'The Three Gs' is, you know, not abduct someone, they've never had a very convincing entrapment case leveled against them. Though a few of their victims have tried.

This one likely won't be, given that his blood is currently smeared all over Scott's clothes and Cleo's face.

Hmmmmm.

Martyn squints thoughtfully at the spatter on Cleo. It's hard to tell, since they've clearly been doing things, he's not going to think too hard about what, and its been smeared quite a bit...but that doesn't look like murder spatter. That looks like adjacent to murder spatter.

Which means, given that Scott couldn't, Pearl was probably the one who actually killed the asshole.

Honestly, that tracks.

Cleo and Hughes are in some kind of stare down now, Martyn would wish the officer luck but honestly, he hopes Cleo eats him alive. He ignores the two of them and turns back to Scott, who's still sitting on the front step, leaning against the door-frame. He looks tired and is shivering a little, but winks at Martyn when he notices his attention. Getting his pelt back has cleared away most of the lingering discomfort or shakiness and as annoying as it is how unruffled he seems after having just witnessed a murder at what was very clearly close proximity, it is reassuring to have him back to his usual demeanor. Despite having made a career out of it, playing the victim really does not suit Scott at all.

"See something you like?"

Martyn snorts a laugh and nudges the discarded shock blanket with the toe of his boot. "You should probably take this back."

"Awww," Scott coos at him, head cocked to the side. "You do care!"

"It's like, 6° out and you're wearing fishnets," Martyn says, somewhat proud of his deadpan and also for resisting making a joke about how fishnets seem a bit on the nose. "It's making me cold just to look at you."

Scott rolls his eyes, but concedes enough to drag the shock blanket over his lap. "You realize I don't really get cold, right? It's like, a whole selkie thing."

"Yeah, when you're in seal form, which you're very clearly not, at the moment."

"It doesn't just go away," Scott grumbles, but tucks the blanket more securely under his knees anyway.

Martyn is going to blame his fussing on still being in post-full moon mode. He'd been throwing blankets and pillows and soup at Ren all afternoon and is going to have to pick right back up where he left off when he gets back home. Ren is notoriously terrible at self-care after a transformation.

"Right," Cleo is suddenly there, looming threateningly over Martyn's shoulder. "Martyn, can you tell this idiot that he's not going to be able to arrest us so we can get on with it all."

God, Martyn hates inter-departmental politics. He leans back to peer around Cleo's shoulder at Hughes. "They're in my custody, you can't have them."

He ignores Hughes' subsequent blustering to give Scott and Cleo his full attention. "Is there anything else either of you needs, or can we get out of here?"

The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon. Martyn has spent the past several days taking care of a worn-out and antsy werewolf he is supposed to be dead asleep right now. He will send a preliminary report into HQ (text his boss a two sentence summary) and then he is done. This can be someone else's problem until he's had a minimum of twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. The murder part has already been done anyway, what's left sounds like it is much more in Research & Preservation's jurisdiction. And Medical. He'll be sure to add a whole extra sentence to that effect.

Scott and Cleo exchange a glance and shake their heads. "Didn't bring anything," Cleo says with a shrug. "I got what I came for."

Scott kicks at their ankle but also looks kind of touched. For a second and only a second, because those two don't do sappy emotions. He then kicks the shock blanket back off and begins hauling himself to his feet. Cleo gives him a hand up and he wobbles on his high-heeled boots but stays standing. Given how shaky he still looks, Martyn is counting that as a win.

He's starting to think Scott might have been separated from his skin for more than just a few hours this time. He's usually completely shaken off the effects by the time Martyn shows up. He's never seen this level of severity.

The two mythicals wander over, Scott still holding onto Cleo's arm, pacing carefully to try and hide the way he is leaning on them for support. Cleo, being Cleo, blatantly ignores the entire situation but still slows their usually brisk stride to accommodate.

"You'll have to give us a ride."

"What?" Visions of his bed vanish before Martyn's eyes at Cleo's declaration.

"You heard me," Cleo repeats, heading towards the edge of the crime scene, Scott only staggering a little bit as he keeps up. "Now where did you park, I'm ready to be rid of this place."

Martyn opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, "Excuse me?" He looks back at the topiary Joe Hills had been standing by. 'Had been' turns out to be the important part of that sentence. "What happened to-"

"He had to go pick his kid up from school, keep up, Martyn." Cleo yells over their shoulder without looking back. "He has a schedule to keep and you took too long. HE was just here to take down the wards."

"Wards?" Martyn rushes to catch up to them. "This is the first you've said about wards. What kind of wards?"

"The kind that keep people like us out," Cleo snaps back, not slowing down at all. "What kind do you think?"

They beeline directly for Martyn's car, pull open the passenger door, and push Scott into the seat. The entire time Martyn has known Cleo, they have never given up the front seat for anyone.

Martyn wonders just how close their luck came to running out this time.

Cleo closes the back seat door behind themself  and then the two of them are looking at Martyn impatiently through the windows, as if he is the one acting weird.

There are not enough braincells in Sleep-Deprived Martyn's head to untangle all of this. He gets in the car.

He gives both Scott and Cleo a onceover while starting it. Now tthat they are out of sight of the masses, Scott is slumped against the door, face pale and eyes closed. Cleo is being very deliberately casual in a very Cleo way, and their face is pinched and the line that shows up on their forehead when they are stressed is definitely line-ing. The hand they have held up, pretending to pick dried blood out from under their nails, is shaking.

"Can we get chicken nuggies?" Pearl asks, her face very suddenly right in Martyn's.

Martyn does not yell or flail. Just for the record. And he certainly doesn't scream or jump.

Pearl just stares at him, eyes eerily blank behind her usual 'thrilled with violence' sparkle. She must have been laying down in his back seat. She's sitting in the middle now, next to Cleo, spattered with even more blood than the other two, in a way that bears out Martyn's theory on who actually killed the homeowner.

Her expression turns wheedling and she leans forward even more, propping her chin on the back of Scott's seat. "Nuggies?"

How is this Martyn's life.

"Fine," he sighs as he pulls out of the fancy big circle drive, leaving the oversized house and all its horrors behind them. "We can get chicken nuggies."

-

Ren wakes up, for a given definition of "wakes up" at...some point. Checking the clock would require opening his eyes and, between the sandy sensation and general lingering exhaustion, he doesn't really want to do that.

He can feel the sun through the curtains and his window face west. So afternoon sometime.

His stomach rumbles.

Perchance he should investigate the kitchen.

A moment of consideration and he decides it still isn't worth opening his eyes. He wraps his comforter over his head and around his shoulders as if it were a winter cape and stumbles towards the door. It takes a few moments of groping around but he manages to find the doorknob and free himself from his confines.

He can smell coffee.

Coffee and people and fast food and...blood?

Instantly set on edge, the clinging territorial instincts from the moon reaction to unexpected intruders in the home, Ren finally cracks one eye open.

Half of the sofa is taken up by a blurry white mass that, after a few blinks, solidifies into a swan sleeping on a pile of messy blankets, head tucked under one wing. A very familiar swan that is awakened enough by Ren's racket to raise their head and give him a displeased hiss, before going back to sleep, settling deeper into their impromptu nest.

His attention is pulled away from Cleo by a shuffling from the kitchen.

Pearl Moon waves at him from where she is sitting on the floor, leaning up against the partition between kitchen and sitting room, halfway through a tub of Ren's ice cream. Ren blinks back at her.

Major is sitting at the kitchen table across from Martyn, who has his face down on the surface of said table and is giving off the general smell he does anytime his emotions are best summarized as "I don't want to be here anymore."

Major looks back over his shoulder and beams at Ren, "Oh good, you're up! Come take a look at these!"

Ren shuffles closer until he can see what exactly it is the selkie has spread all over the table.

It's quite the variety, all placed carefully on Ren's good tea towels. Several trinkets of questionable origin, a cursed box of some kind that smells of fae magic, some mundane jewelry, and a small collection of potion vials. Major taps one of the un-enchanted necklaces proudly. "How would you price this lot?"

Martyn groans against the table top. "Could you at least not conduct your illegal sales in my kitchen when I'm here?"

Ren pats him on the shoulder and does his best to wake up enough to give the haul a more critical look. "Hard to say without a close examination but at least a couple thousand."

Behind him, Pearl makes a disparaging noise. "Only a couple thousand?" She says around a mouthful of ice cream. "Wow, that's cheap."

She shakes something that makes a jingling sound. "Now come look at mine!"

Martyn groans again and shoves his chair away from the table. "I'm going to go get food, if this is what you are doing now." He heads for the door.

Ren takes his chair as Pearl scrambles to her feet and joins them at the table, pulling things willy-nilly out of the pockets of her bright red jacket. He certainly wasn't planning on business on a day off when he hadn't even opened the shop, but Cleo and friends were always a good source of dubiously obtained items.

Martyn closes the front door behind him and Ren can hear him grumbling his way down the stairwell.

He can smell cheap chicken nuggets and his stomach rumbles. Hopefully Martyn brings some of those back with him.

[merakiui]

I saw akademiya wanderer. My brain functions at mach 20. Imagine having a project with him or sharing the same dorm cuz you're broke! Oh the possibilities!

SHARING A DORM……… he can be such an annoying roommate at times and you know he acts the way he does just to be a playful nuisance. When he cooks breakfast for you each morning before the two of you head off to classes (sometimes he won’t let you leave the dorm until you eat; he just wants to make sure you’re taking care of yourself), he insists he only does this because if he didn’t you’d just starve and it would be annoying to hear you complain about being hungry. He walks the long distance to your classroom just to make sure you won’t try cutting class (not that you ever do) before eventually leaving for his own classroom. And he always waits outside the door for you once class is over, though it’s usually to teasingly nag you over various things. Definitely not because he wants to walk home with you or go to a nearby café to study and talk! No way!

Since the two of you live together, you’re bound to get into a few…situations. :) Wanderer has caught you masturbating before or he’s walked in on you while you were bathing or changing. You never seem to catch him being anything less than perfect (or maybe he does things when you’re sleeping… :) hmm somnophilia…), and he either vows to never speak to you about it again or he’ll tease you to the Abyss and back just to see your flustered expression. The two of you play TCG on weekends when you’re not swamped with assignments and projects, usually gambling certain things. Loser has to do laundry. Loser has to cook for the week. Loser has to do whatever the winner wants for an entire day. And so on. Wanderer claimed he could care less about trivial things such as card games, but he ends up really enjoying it. He has quite the competitive streak and loves to win, especially if there’s a prize to be had. >:)

You often drag him to gatherings and events so that he can be more social. He complains about it, but he can be tame for your sake (and your sake only). Truthfully, he’s willing to go anywhere you go so long as he’ll be able to stand by your side. Wanderer gets a little huffy if you bring your friends back to the dorm, and good luck bringing home a partner. You may have tried to get into the mood with them before, but Wanderer was such an irritating cockblock, barging into your room, making noise in the kitchen, spontaneously cleaning and organizing things around the dorm; and so it made it impossible to get into any sort of sensual mood. Wanderer likes to chase any potential partners away. You only need him, after all. He’s made it his mission to protect and gatekeep you from others.

After finals week has passed, the two of you usually celebrate. Whether that’s by going out for a celebratory meal with some friends or staying in and relaxing, you always end up having a lot of reckless fun together. One particular finals week left the both of you so drunk you ended up falling asleep in a heap of limbs together. Neither of you can truly remember all that you did that night, but Wanderer often jokes that if he’s ever going to have drunk sex with someone he’d want it to be with you. You tell him to be real and stop with the meaningless flirting. He laughs; if only you knew.