Writing for this ZelZant fic I've been working on-and-off since mid-June. God these two are so fun to bounce off each other-- Not even romantically at this point, just gritting pleasantries through their teeth while simultaneously having moments of curiosity.
[I'm gonna continue rambling under the cut in case this gets very long, lol <3]
To grab some stuff directly from Discord chats:
It's just. They're so soooo. Twilight Princess' whole baseline is power, who gets it, what they do with it, and what that entails, and I find these two in particular to be especially fun in this regard, since they're both trying to project an aura of legitimacy moreso than the other main characters(Link is an Ordon goatherd who has to take up power but is not to use it beyond this liberatory purpose, Midna hides her true nature as Twilight Princess and doubts herself even as her status is crucial, Ganondorf wants to throw everything out because he recognises the whole institution as corrupt even as this version of him gestures to divine mandate as proof of his own competency, ect.).
Zelda is the would-be monarch of Hyrule, a bloody institution that, even if not responsible for the banishment of the Twili themselves, are heavily implied to have enacted genocide on the Gerudo, whom I consider Zant(and Midna!) diaspora of. At the same time, Zant himself is undeniably a cruel, oppressive figure not only robbing Zelda of her birthright, but all of Hyrule of its freedoms. He's a strongman dictator, hyped up on religious fervour and tight-lipped egomania.
This is by no means a super deep or particularly "great" exploration of the topic, but for me, in this little context, this weird topsy-turvy dynamic is fascinating. Historically, Zelda's ancestors were the ones doing the oppressing, but in the here and now Zant is trying to enact it upon her, while also leveraging this paternalistic, politely-misogynistic affect. It's everything he should, in theory, stand-against, but Zant for all his talk is nothing but an opportunist.
(He has no morals, he has no values-- He really is a Tory! My god 😭)
But like, despite all that, I do think the ways in which they are similar lend themselves to a degree of chemistry nevertheless. I think even without the backdrop of war and conquest, it'd remain stilted, and they'd still have issues with each other... But, oh!
They're fascinating. They remind me of those late-19th century early-20th not-quite-aristocratic couples forreal. Fucked up. Love that for them <3
I love gay Eddie and bisexual awakening Steve. It's solid and popular for a reason. It works, makes a lot of sense.
But...I also love flirty-cluelessly-queer Eddie and comfortable-with-his sexuality Steve.
Eddie does flirt. With everyone. It was pretty clear he was flirting with Chrissy. He was flirting with Steve. Calling him big boy and getting up in his personal space, being all cutesy.
So, imagine Eddie just casually flirting with Steve and it doesn't mean anything to him. He's just being Eddie. He isn't even aware that it's flirting. He really considers it teasing. The man is dramatic and silly. He loves to make a scene. So "teasing" people is fun for him.
Eddie who is a super senior running a DnD club for outcasts, loves Lord of the Rings, plays in a metal band. I think Eddie is always into some sort of hyperfixation to be trying to bang chicks or dudes.
There was totally a phase were he was obsessed with folk and old country music (Woody Guthrie much). There was the Jane Austen phase (It fits, c'mon). The time he tried to learn to crochet. His lasting phase with fantasy novels. His intense love of metal music. He knows a lot about music in general. Obscure shit. Oh, those handcuffs-definitely from his magic phase. Tell me, 12 year old Eddie didn't want to be a magician. He probably did card tricks, the whole deal.
Eddie would be the kind of guy who'd spout all sorts of random knowledge. He probably has one specific time period in history he could rant about for hours.
The man has raging ADHD (takes one to know one). He's a self-professed nerd and outcast. The only thing that might be considered "cool" is that he plays in his band. But even then, he's a total nerd about it.
Eddie is hot as hell. That is undeniable. But Eddie has been too damn busy being a fucking nerd to date or hook up. I think he's so focused on his interests, it could easily not have been on his radar. Same way he's failed senior year twice in a row despite being smart as hell. The shit they are trying to teach doesn't interest him and that makes Eddie fucking struggle.
He's bouncy and hyperactive. He probably has terrible tunnel vision when he gets into a book or movie or campaign. Dating has thus far not been interesting enough especially combined with how he's treated by the people in Hawkins.
So, yeah- he flirts and teases. He thinks it's harmless fun. With Chrissy, it was a way to make her feel safe and lighten the mood. With Steve, it's a way to disarm him. It's King Steve afterall. Why not play up the metalhead freak persona. Let him think he's weird.
It isn't until Steve starts flirting back and gives Eddie butterflies that Eddie realizes this is not heterosexual behavior. And he knows a lot about that because he was accidentally flagging for a whole goddamn year. Because he wanted to look metal as fuck and thought the bandana was badass.
Steve calls Eddie princess. Calls him pretty boy. Throws in a babe. Everytime Eddie refers to him as big boy or Stevie, Steve just smirks and comes up with a new pet name that wrecks Eddie (who has no idea what is fucking going on). Throw in the boys getting high together with no inhibitions and Steve actively trying to romance him and Eddie's in a full blown sexuality crisis.
best part: Steve thinks Eddie is gay because of the bandana that he wore all year. Add in all the flirting and then Steve's really putting the moves on totally clueless Eddie. And say what you want about Steve, but he has game. I can just imagine Eddie trying to frantically figure out why all of the sudden he wants to make out with Steve "the hair" Harrington and Steve's like...aren't you gay?
(if anyone knows of steddie fics anything like this, please rec them!)
love languages | charles leclerc instagram au
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
charles and y/n show off their love languages, gift giving and words of affirmation.
liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 661,083 others
charles_leclerc: sometimes facilitating your girlfriend's hyperfixations works out
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yourusername it's defo better than the cupboard full of yarn from when i wanted to start crochet
charles_leclerc you're a much better dj than crocheter (sp?)
landonorris you're coming for my brand
yourusername hush child i've been playing guitar hero since before you were born
landonorris you're two years older than me?
yourusername i was a cool fucking kid
danielricciardo so all i'm hearing is flat party
yourusername if you bring the alcohol i'm down
charles_leclerc it's literally my flat?
user223 they're my parents omg
liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 40,133 others
yourusername: who said boys don't like flowers?
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charles_leclerc i love anything from you <3
user521 the way they just use their instagrams to flex their relationship
user762 like we get it you're happy LEAVE US ALONE
landonorris you posted your rizz on instagram ???
yourusername it's called a love letter loser
yourusername just say you're lonely and bounce
charles_leclerc you guys good?
charles_leclerc posted to their story
[caption: learnt how to bake because there's no good cinnamon rolls in monaco for y/n]
[caption: ever want to feel lonely? sit with charles when he's on the phone to y/n}
liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 773,087 others
charles_leclerc: happy birthday to the love of my life, you've changed my life more than you can know. with only a few races left this season, we can celebrate properly soon xx
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yourusername i love you so much charles, virginia woof and i shall be cheering for you all the way til the end xx
user12 god when is it my turn
user44 i beg she gets to give a radio message if charles wins in abu dhabi
user77 OMG PLEASE I NEED IT
scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n!!! looking forward to seeing you in abu dhabi
user404 it's happening ITS HAPPENING
yourusername added to their story
[caption: nowhere i'd rather be, believe always]
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charles_leclerc: what i'm feeling right now can't be put into words. we've been working for this my whole life, sacrificing so much and losing so many people. i can't say it doesn't hurt not having them here to see it, but i know they're proud. to the tifosi, i am beyond happy to bring the championship back to maranello and take ferrari back to where they belong. y/n has always said my love language is gift giving so consider this my gift back to you for all the support you've shown me over the years. and finally to y/n, you're not only my escape from racing at home but also my focus on the road. i take your letters to every race and will always think of you when i cross that line, i love you and this championship is just as much yours as it is mine. forza ferrari
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pierregasly congrats calmar!! everyone is so proud of you
yourusername this is yours charles, and yours alone. you've worked for it, you deserve it. i'm so proud and honoured to even be a part of your journey. i love you.
charles_leclerc i hope you're ready for three months of nothing but me
yourusername i can't wait
scuderiaferrari CONGRATS CHARLES FORZA FERRARI
user16 omg he actually did it !!!! congrats charles
user689 her radio message, they're really in love man
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yourusername: thank god i got my nails done. no joke i love you so much charles, i can't wait to write you letters for the rest of my life.
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charles_leclerc i'm glad i booked the right nail salon. no jokes i can't wait to buy you random shit for the rest of my life.
user44 OMG HE DID IT
pierregasly congrats!!! bagsy best man
carlossainz55 that'll be me actually
arthur_leclerc it's me actually
yourusername you know he already asked seb right?
user88 so do we think he planned to wait until he won the championship to propose or?
charles_leclerc i did want to wait, but i was proposing this year no matter what, needed her to be mrs. leclerc as soon as possible
The Sovereign Beauty // J. Todd x f!reader
WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, loss of virginity (socially constructed theory ok), swearing, discussions around sex/consent (jason is a consent KING ok)
Summary: You can’t tell if the scene in this romance novel is realistic. When Jason finds out why, he offers to help explain.
A/N: the ending sucks, I struggled a lot writing this tbh. It’s so much harder to write first time situations IMO. I also really wanted to balance realism with sexiness. First times are not uber sexy or perfect, but they also don’t have to suck. Picture not mine, found on google.
Aside from the soft croon of Ella Fitzgerald and the occasional shift of a page turning, the apartment was relatively quiet. Gentle rain battered against the windows of Jason’s apartment and the comforting scent of the Bath and Body Works candle you had forced him to accept one day enveloped the two of you.
The tank of a man was sprawled out on the couch with the edges of a crocheted afghan Cass made was tucked around the both of you. Your feet rested in his lap and he occasionally ran his hand over your calf.
Ever since you started dating Jason Todd, days like this were some of your favorites. He brewed some tea, you set out some pastries you picked up from the bagel under your apartment, and the two of you just spent some time reading. No fancy dates, no expectations, just the two of you relaxing.
He was reading through The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett and you had picked up some Tessa Bailey novel that the librarians were raving about. You were past the halfway point of the book and one particular scene caught your eye.
“What’s got you looking like that?” Jason asked, pushing his foot against your thigh. You shrugged and lowered the book so you could see his teal eyes.
“I just…can’t tell if this is realistic,” you admitted.
“Isn’t that a romance novel? Haven’t I wooed you enough.”
You let out a snort and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t know. I’ve never, y’know.”
“I’m not picking up what you’re laying down here, babe.”
You wordlessly handed him the book and he set his down in his lap so he could give his full attention to the words in front of him. His eyebrows climbed higher with every sentence he read and you bit your lip as heat crept higher into your cheeks.
“We can have kitchen sex if you want,” he finally said.
“It’s not the location,” you explained. “But the act itself.”
Now he was really curious. Jason stuck a bookmark in between the pages of both yours and his novel before setting them on the coffee table. “You’ve never had an orgasm?”
“Vibrators exist for a reason, Todd. I’ve just never had one due to someone else.”
He sat up from his reclined position. “Woah, no one has ever gotten you off before? Who the fuck have you been sleeping with?”
“No one. I’m a virgin and before you come at me with the whole virginity is a social construct thing, I know. I just couldn’t think of a way to phrase that.”
Jason pursed his lips in thought and for a moment you were nervous. He was a great guy and a perfect gentleman. He walked you home after dates, paid for meals, read intersectional feminist literature without prompting, knocked transphobes around, and extorted and threatened politicians who got handsy with their interns on the regular. Surely he wouldn’t judge you for having never fucked someone else.
“Do you want to? Have sex with someone else? I’m cool if you don’t want to. Asexuality is valid and relationships don’t need sex to function.”
“No, no! I want to. I do.”
“Okay.” His eyes raked over you and his gaze darkened. “That’s cool too.”
You don’t know where you got such confidence but you released your lower lip from the trap your teeth held it in, noticing how his eyes followed, and licked your lips before continuing. “I would like it if you were my first. If that’s something you want.”
“Yeah,” he blurted out. “That’s…yeah. I can do that.”
The two of you fell silent once more as you averted your gazes and studied the bare walls of his apartment. “Jason?”
“Can you please fuck me?”
“God yes.” His hands slid under your thighs and he hauled you up into his lap, your legs straddling his waist. Calloused, scar riddled hands slid up under your shirt as he kissed you. His lips were always so warm and soft, but now there was a strength in his kiss that had never been there before. He nipped at your bottom lip and you sighed, letting him slip his tongue in. He took control easily, but then again, you weren’t resisting.
“I want to lay some ground rules,” Jason said when he pulled away. His voice had lost its teasing edge and instead, he sounded more like the Red Hood than just Jason. You sat up straighter and rested your hands on his shoulders so you could focus all of your attention on him.
“We’re gonna go slow and I’m going to keep asking questions, even if you’re sick of my voice. My focus is on you and you alone. Don’t worry about me. Don’t even think. Just relax, okay?” His palms slid up your thighs and rested on your ass. “At any point you want to stop, you say it. You say stop, we stop. No questions asked.”
You nodded and he tipped your chin up so your eyes met. “How do you feel?”
“Nervous,” you admitted. “But I trust you.”
Jason grinned, crooked and charming and handsome and fuck you were so lucky. He effortlessly hoisted you up into his arms and carried you to his bedroom before setting you on his bed.
He bent down and captured your lips in a searing kiss once more. Carefully, Jason slid his hands under your shirt and started to push the fabric up your body.
“This okay?” he asked, low and quiet. You nodded and he continued his work, lips latching onto your collarbone and sucking. You were both overwhelmed and completely lost, but you didn’t want him to stop. Jason slid your shirt over your head and tossed it somewhere in his room before yanking off his own top.
You knew he was sculpted like a Greek god, but this was beyond your wildest dreams. He was all muscle and flushed skin, his chest rising and falling deeply with each breath. Your gaze fell on the thick y-shaped scar that spanned the length of his torso and you grimaced. You traced your finger down the puffy ridges of the scar, starting from his navel, and he watched as your hand climbed higher before coming to rest over his beating heart. He caught your wrist in his larger hand and drew your palm up to his lips for the tenderest of kisses.
“I’m here,” he promised. “And I’m not leaving anytime soon.”
“I know.” Your smile was tight and he eased it with a tender kiss. Jason eased you back to lay on the bed as he hovered over you. You ran your hands along his muscled back, feeling them tense and flutter under your touch. Jason trailed kisses from your jaw to your shoulder and down between the valley of your breasts and along your stomach before coming to rest at the edge of your pants. He glanced up at you and grinned.
“Hi,” you teased, feeling more than a little breathless.
“This okay to remove?”
That gave you a pause. You wanted this, you did. But the idea of being completely bare and naked in front of someone made fear boil up in your stomach and settle in your chest. Jason took note of the indecision and turmoil that flitted across your features and he moved up so you were chest to chest, face to face.
“Alright, talk me through it,” he said. “We can stop if you want to stop.”
“No. I just…I’ve never…No one has ever seen me like this.”
He softened, if that was at all possible, and reached up to stroke his thumb across your cheek. Jason thought for a moment and then leaned in, his lips a breath away from yours before he started murmuring.
“The sovereign beauty which I do admire.” He placed a kiss against your lips and traveled down.
“Witness the world how worthy to be praised.” A kiss placed on your jaw.
“The light whereof hath kindled heavenly fire..” A gentle press of lips on your sternum, teal eyes still locked with yours.
“In my frail spirit, by her from baseness raised.” One breast received a feather-light kiss.
“That being now with her huge brightness dazed.” The other breast.
“Base thing I can no more endure to view.” He mouthed the words as he slid his lips across the skin of your stomach, fingers tracing dips and curves and rolls and stretch marks before he stopped once more above the spot that ached with want and need.
“But looking still on her, I stand amazed, at wondrous sight of so celestial hue.”
You pushed his hair away from his face, tugging on the white streak at the front of his hair and nodded. He watched you as his fingers deftly slid your pants down your legs until you were nearly bare before him, only separated by the thin fabric of your underwear.
Jason dropped your pants onto the ground and got rid of his own sweats. He swallowed against the sudden dryness in his throat as he took in the sight of you. He leaned down and ghosted a kiss to your thigh. You jolted in surprise and he rubbed his hands over your waist in reassurance.
“Doing so well for me. What do you want, baby?”
“Touch me, please,” you breathed. “Want you to touch me.”
He grinned, something sharper and more fierce than he had been. Jason’s teeth enclosed around the band of your panties and he dragged them down to your ankles before licking his way up to your inner thighs. You whimpered as he spread your legs, exposing your glistening folds. He moved so he was sitting against the headboard and pulled you to rest back against his chest, your legs held apart by his. He slid his hands down to cup your cunt and you shuddered against him.
“Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he praised. “So wet. I can tell you’re gonna take me so well. I just wanna warm you up. Tell me, baby, have you ever touched yourself?”
“Y-Yes,” you gasped out. He traced his fingers around the lips of your cunt and then dipped one finger into your entrance, carefully testing the waters. “Didn’t feel as good as this.”
Jason hummed as he slowly began to circle your clit. Your breathing hitched as sparks of pleasure shot through your core and you moved to close your legs instinctively but his strong thighs held you open. He tutted against the shell of your ear and enclosed the cartilage with his teeth, tugging lightly.
“Be a good girl for me, okay? Keep those legs spread while I take care of you. Can you do that for me?”
“Yeah. Feels so good, Jay.”
“I know, baby. I wanna make you feel so good. I wanna hear you make pretty noises. Wanna see you fall apart.” As his thumb applied gentle, even strokes to your clit, one of his other fingers dipped down to your entrance and he hummed as he carefully pressed in. Your hips started to rise and he chuckled as his other hand came to rest on your stomach, keeping you pressed against his chest.
“So tight and warm. Can’t wait to fill you up with my cock. You’re going to take me so well, aren’t you, sweet girl?”
You nodded, your eyes shut as the pleasure built slowly. Jason slipped his finger fully inside of you and you gasped at the slight burn that followed. His finger was thicker and longer than yours and reached a part of you that had never been touched.
“How are you doing, baby?” Jason asked, all but his thumb stilled. You blearily blinked up at him, savoring the sight of his messy dark hair and warm eyes. Rarely did people get to see him like this and here he was, all for you.
“M’okay. Just surprised me.”
“Good to keep going?” You nodded in response to his question and then moaned as he drew his finger out and plunged it back in. He pumped the digit in and out of your pussy while simultaneously brushing gentle strokes across your clit. You had orgasmed before on your fingers and your vibrator, but this was new and different and amazing. It wasn’t you in control. You had placed all of the control in Jason’s hands and you trusted him to not hurt you. Based on how he was taking care of you, you had made the right decision.
“Slight pressure,” he warned before he added a second finger. You stifled a gasp and bit down on your lip but he leaned forward and tugged your lip free with his teeth. “I told you. I want to hear your pretty voice. Sing for me, sweetheart.”
“Your neighbors are going to kill you.”
He grinned against your shoulder, fingers pumping and twisting and stretching you as his thumb pulled you closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. A low moan escaped you and his smile grew, as did the tightening in your stomach. It felt like a cord that was being stretched thin and you couldn’t stop the whimpers that slipped past your tongue until it snapped and your mouth dropped open in a silent cry as your body seized against his constant touch.
“There we go. Let go, baby. I gotcha.” Jason’s murmurs started to make sense again once your mind fluttered back down to earth. He slid his fingers out of you and your cunt clenched around the empty space he had filled seconds before, a whine slipping out of you at the loss. Jason kissed your shoulder and moved out from under you, supporting you with one arm as he laid you back on the mattress. He stripped out of his boxers quickly and then paused at the end of the bed.
“If you want to stop, we can stop now and do this another night,” he said. You took in the sight of him standing above you, cock heavy and flush as it hung between his legs, sweat glistening across his skin and dark hair tousled, and that hungry look in his eyes…
“I’m gonna be really mad if you don’t fuck me now,” you snorted. His only reply was grabbing a foil packet and a small bottle out of the nightstand drawer. Jason tore the condom packet and slid it onto his shaft in one smooth move before he grabbed the lube bottle. You moved onto your knees and reached out for the lube, hand held expectantly. He raised a brow but squirted it onto your fingers and you wrapped your hand around his dick and coated the condom in lube. He groaned at the contact and pulled you in for another kiss, his breath short and panting into your mouth.
“If you keep that up, I’m going to come right here and now,” he grunted. You pulled away with a laugh and laid back down, watching as he kneeled on the bed and approached you with care. Jason lowered himself down, his face hovering over yours. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you blinked up at him. All the fears and horrors other women had whispered to you were coming to the forefront now. It would hurt, you would bleed, you could tear, the thoughts kept going until he kissed you again.
“You’ll go slow, right?”
He nodded and reached down so he could hold his cock, rubbing the head against your folds. You shivered at the foreign sensation and he paused until you nodded again. Jason carefully positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed his cock in, only slipping the head in for now. You sucked in a sharp breath at the intrusion and reached out to grasp something, anything. He caught your hand and entwined your fingers together, holding your arm down onto the mattress as she thrust tiny, shallow strokes to get you used to the feeling.
“Want me to recite another poem? Shakespeare? Browning?” he joked. You giggled despite yourself and felt yourself relax, giving him the chance to ease further in. The stretch hurt a bit, but Jason went slow and made sure you were relaxed. Occasionally, the pain would intensify and you would tighten up, but he was there in an instant with a joke or a soothing touch. Jason kept you laughing as he slid fully inside of you and gave an experimental thrust. A moan punched out of your lungs and he grinned before rolling his hips.
What a sight he was to behold. His hair fell over his sweaty forehead and his pupils nearly devoured his iris as lust burned through him. Jason had been so patient and kind through this that when the pain turned to pure pleasure, you didn’t hesitate to tilt your chin up, brush your lips against his jaw, and whisper two words.
His hips snapped forward, driving his cock into you. You scrambled for purchase on his back, nails digging into his skin as he sheathed himself in your cunt. The once painful stretch was now a brilliant, overwhelming bliss that stole the air from your lungs and made your legs tremble even when you wrapped them around his waist.
“Squeezing me so good,” he moaned. “So fucking good. God, you’re perfect. Fucking amazing. Want to just feel you always.”
“Jay.” His name was a high, broken whine on your lips. He pressed his forehead against yours as you rocked into his thrusts, chasing the high that was building once more. Hearing his groans and praises made your head spin and blood race. Jason’s thrusts grew sloppier and then his hips were stuttering in their moves before slowing. He continued thrusting, even as he emptied out into the condom, and reached down to circle your clit and help you finish once again. Your cunt clenched around his softening cock and he pitched forward, burying his face in the pillow next to you until your orgasm faded and he could pull his overstimulated shaft out of you.
You laid there, boneless and breathless, as he got up and disposed of the condom. You were exhausted but satiated. Unfortunately, Jason wouldn’t let you roll over and fall asleep just yet.
“Nope. I’m grabbing you some water and then you need to use the bathroom. I have lived with too many women to know that UTIs are a bitch.” Jason hauled you up like you weighed nothing and promptly set you on your feet in front of the bathroom. He kissed the top of your head and disappeared into the kitchen.
Five minutes later, you were bundled in one of his shirts and sweatpants on the couch using Jason’s chest as a pillow. His hand stroked lazily up and down your side and you nestled closer to his touch.
“How are you feeling? Was that okay?” If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he sounded almost insecure. You moved so your chin rested on his chest and you could meet his gaze before replying.
“Everyone says the first time is nothing special. They’re all fucking liars. Thank you. I wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else.”
“First person and hopefully last,” he grumbled. “Good luck getting rid of me.”
“That poem you were saying…”
His lips lifted in a small smile and he nodded. “I never finished it.” Jason drew you closer to him and he pressed a kiss to your temple.
“So when my tongue would speak her praises due, it stopped is with thought's astonishment.” A kiss to your cheek.
“And when my pen would write her titles true, it ravish'd is with fancy's wonderment.” The other cheek.
“Yet in my heart I then both speak and write the wonder that my wit cannot endite*.” He lowered his lips to yours and you couldn’t stop grinning into the kiss.
* poem is Edmund Spenser’s Amoretti III
Tag list (let me know if you want to be added!): @annalayton19 @tiannamortis
sweetheart crochets during road trips cough cough
Angel is a wizz at sewing, and mixes and matches hoodies all the time david secretly loves it
When baabe and sweetheart first hung out via the wolf boys they were surprised bc they were besties in 7th grade
Darlin is damn near fuckin blindddd but they wear contacts bc they think glasses make them look less intimidating but Sam think their cute with them.
Milo once saw a pigeon poop on Asher’s head and said absolutely nothing.
Sam only drinks coffee if it has honey in it.
Vincent Hates coffee tho
David only takes cold showers- unless angels with him then he can bear the heat.
Sweetheart doesn’t have daddy issues- fuck they call their dad every night, it’s their mommy they have issues with.
Aaron likes to pretend he didn’t have a MySpace account.
Smartass can whittle/carve, they made Aaron a mug with a butt on it.
Sweetheart has legitimately Every Nancy drew book
Laskos a slut. (Jk that’s already cannon. )
Gavin’s favorite ice cream is pistachio.
Milo doesn’t know who the majority of A-list artists are, but K-POP artists? He will list them all alphabetically
Baabe dislikes Plaid.
Huxleys favorite cereal is that cookie cereal with the wolf.
Asher says “mommy? Sorry Mommy? Sorry”(gn) when he sees baabe.
Freelancer collects bugs, and keeps them in little glass containers in an extra room- Gavin usually avoids said room.
Speaking of which, Gavin’s an arachnophob.
Baby (Ollie) is constantly quoting vine
Ollie is a floofy boi.
Sweetheart was a Hugeee nerd in MS/HS. I mean band kid, chess captain, class president, DnD the full length
Guy knows every word to JAWNEYs music. He went batshit feral, when It’s never fair always true. Came out
Honey is allergic to honey.
One time in high school some one bet angel they couldn’t memorize the shrek script in a week, guess who came hollering about swamps a week later?
Canaan University Au
Ok I thought of a college au for the locked tomb a awhile ago but I never bothered to write it down until now. Anyways I think they would all go to this imaginary university in New Zealand and it’s like the first book but with a lot less murder. Here’s what I think each house would study
Judith- Criminal justice major. Huge stickler for rules and doing homework. If she’s not in the gym reading a textbook while doing push-ups, she’s in the library getting into a heated debate with a Corona. Had a huge crush on Marta and went to the same college as her to hangout, just getting over it, may or may not have feelings for Corona, maybe.
Marta- In law school, was a mentor to Judith when she was in high school and that’s how they know each other. Gently turned Judith down but they’re still friends and study together sometime. Is the DD at every party.
Corona: Majoring in marketing with a minor in fashion merchandising. Doesn’t do great on tests but aces every presentation. President of her sorority. Can and will gaslight frat boys. Everyone wants her but she only has eyes for the stuck up criminal justice major.
Ianthe- Management major with a minor in maybe finance. Commits tax fraud and gets away with it. Sometimes does Corona’s homework for her. Doxxes people online (mostly Babs), smokes in the dorm hallways. Flirts with Harrow during their study sessions, which Harrow ignores.
Naberius- Economics major, and major fuck boy. Makes thirst traps and is doxxed. Hangs out with the twins even though they bully him. Doesn’t do shit during group projects. Will get a job at his dads company post graduation.
Jeannemary and Isaac don’t go to college but are tutored by Abigail at her house. They just silly teens who experiment with makeup and clothes to find their look. Talk loudly about anime in the school hallways. A little cringe but they’re doing their best.
Abigail- Anthropology professor and is really cool. Tough grader but genuinely loves her students and shares trivia with them. Brings donuts to test days. Will accidentally derail class to talk about books or her husband. If one of her students brings up one of the incredibly niche topics she likes, she will talk about it for hours.
Magnus- Not a teacher but visits Abigail's classes often. Nice guy, helps look after Jeannemary and Isaac. I'm not sure what he would do as a job, maybe chef or stay at home husband lol. Regardless, he's the one making all the meals.
Palamedes- Pre-med, wants to become a doctor so he can save Dulcinea save people. Smartest guy in the room always, a go to for anyone struggling with their biology homework. Has a friendly rivalry with Harrow (it's more rivalry than friendly for Harrow but she grows fond of him over time). Is the one derailing class with philosophical debates.
Camilla- Physics major, too cool for you. Really into sports, just not sure which, like gymnastics or soccer or rugby or fencing. Works hard but actually remembers to eat and sleep too. Probably in student government as well. Her and Palamedes are attached at the hip, they later get an apartment together and that's where all the main hangouts with the other characters happen.
Dulcinea- Suffers from chronic illness and focuses her life on learning and traveling rather than getting a traditional job. She's got multiple degrees in stuff like literature, philosophy, and art history. She is active on social media and has a blog, and sells crocheted animals on Etsy. Became mutuals with Pal and Camilla on social media and they met up later when they went off to college.
Protesilaus- Dulcie's caretaker, helps her with her medical stuff. Becomes like a cool uncle figure to her and her friends. Hangs out a lot with Ortus and they share poetry.
Silas- Double major in theology and philosophy. Freaky teen prodigy who graduated high school early and attends university. Little shit who people are either freaked out by or straight up just don't like him. Will snitch on anyone for anything he doesn't like. Really only friends with Colum.
Colum- Silas' nephew, but way older than him, weird dynamic. Not in school but drives Silas to his classes and Silas lives with him during the school year instead of in the dorms. Nice guy, looks out for Silas' well being the best he can but tries to keep him from being too nasty to others.
Harrow- Double major in theology and archeology. Studies at all hours and forgets to eat and sleep. Local cryptid. Autistic with special interests in religion and burial rituals. Went to Catholic school and had a suffocating home life. Trying to grapple with that as she starts to navigate adult life. Also trying to mend her relationship with Gideon after being so harsh in her younger years.
Gideon- Kinesiology major, butch vibes to the max. Does swordfighting and weight training in her down time. Has kissed both Ianthe and Corona at some point, though it never went anywhere after that. Wears her sunglasses at all times even in class. Finds the worst fashions from thrift stores and wears them to piss Harrow off. Grew up with Harrow in a foster home Harrow's parents ran and also attended Catholic school with her but they rarely interacted beyond antagonizing each other. Reconnected after being randomly assigned roommates. Now they're buddies and hang out alongside the 3rd and 6th, (also the 2nd and Dulcie sometimes too). They all do stupid shit together like sing karoke off key and hit up Taco Bell at 2am after binge watching movies.
I have been sitting on these for a long time because I wanted to have some more varried stuff but I haven't had time to write anything! So here's what I've got! Honestly these are some of my favorites
[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6]
- Whenever he's kicked out of an area or event, Oswald proceeds to start shoving anything not taped down into his pockets. He doesn't need the stuff, he just likes to be petty and ruin it for everyone else
- Bane has done a series of infomercials for various products & services that only air on late night product channels. Alfred is the only batfamily member who knows, he was doing laundry late one night and nearly lost it
- Mr Freeze writes restaurants/companies when they wrong him. Like nice formal letters, signing them and everything
- The Joker has an imdb page. Actually a lot of the villains do but like the Joker has one he updates with fun facts. Who says they're accurate but they sure are fun
- Riddler freaking hates puppets. Their soulless eyes say it all. He refuses to or "work" with puppets. That being said, Scarecrow has chased him around with Scarface once or twice "for science"
- Scarecrow has and still does write letters of recommendation for his ex students. He freaking still has Gotham University letterhead paper and everything. Honestly some of his students have gotten the job from his letter alone (maybe it's out of fear but like it's still a win), and they 100% send Jonathan thank you gifts in Arkham. He's got one of those dorky teacher scrapbooks where he keeps the thank you letters. One of his students even crocheted him a little plush scarecrow. It's like, they don't love his crimes but you know that was ol kooky professor Crane for ya
- Harvey kind of has a soft spot for sitcoms, he used to watch them with his mom growing up. One of their favorites, ironically, was night court
- Bane has a famous chili recipe and he makes one batch a year. It's fucking delicious! He makes an edition with meat and a vegetarian version too. Of course consults Ivy for home grown excellent quality vegetables and she gets first dibs in return
- the Joker has not one but TWO released albums. One is essentially a mash up of all the serenades he's made Batman listen to over the years and the other one is called "The Holidays with the Joker: Christmas selects edition"
- Scarecrow's car is a mess. He's got a work truck of course but his main car is like a wood panel sedan that he's been driving since he was a professor and refuses to get a new one. It's a fucking mess, he has like clothes, papers, garbage all over the place. He still has term papers he forgot to grade under the seats. Riddler HATES his car, with a passion
- Riddler has gone through the pain and suffering to teach all the rogues how to use discord, he had once hoped it would make their crimes more efficient. They have a group chat but it's mostly suffering on his end as all chaos ensues
- Scarecrow owns a Halloween train village he has set up in one of his lairs. It plays instrumental versions of Halloween songs as it goes around the track
- Joker will push open cups off of tables because he can. He's got the chaotic energy of a cat awake at 3 am
- Riddler and Scarecrow's friendship starts like super formal and co worker like but after like a year and a half, evolves into a weird symbiosis. Jonathan points at random ass objects or books and goes "you" when he's with Edward. Eddie has a habit of fixing or picking debris of Jonathan, usually when they're crimeing. Also one time, they were both startled so bad by Batman that Scarecrow jumped into riddler's arms like Scooby & shaggy, except they both held onto each other for a second before toppling over. Robin then unmasked them like scooby doo
- Harley & Ivy are frequent Panera customers and often get pick up orders there under "codenames" given by Harley. All the workers know who "Plantmamma" and "the quinnanator" are but like they tip great and everyone should get to enjoy soup
- Bane has one CD in his car, it's a 2010 greatest hits CD that someone accidentally left in there. Who you ask? He has no idea
- Harley has a getaway playlist preloaded in her phone for car chases
- Riddler and Scarecrow watch reality tv/game shows together. They binged all of survivor and the amazing race in a year. It was a joke at first but they both got really into the shows. They have both applied to be on amazing race together and unfortunately haven't been called back
- Joker still uses cassettes (and vinyls probably) except he mixes them himself and labels them all stupid titles like "Birthday bash #9", "Baty's mix", "what's the deal with airplane food?", "etc". But he also has a tape recorder and makes notes to himself and labels those ones too, so he gets his personal notes mixed up with his music jams all the time. He goes to put on some epic clown music and instead it's a twenty minute recording he made of himself eating fruit loops
Hi! If you don't mind taking requests, could you write headcanons for Brett Hand with a shy s/o that has crochet as their love language? Lol himbo lives in my head rent free and I'm always like "Hey I heard you offhandedly mention this is your favorite color, have a scarf I made"
No worries if you don't want to, thanks!
Brett Hand x GN!Reader:
Warnings: SFW, GENDER NEUTRAL, canon aligned depictions and material, BRETTS SIX PACK MAKES AN APPEARANCE, brett cries but it’s happy, food mention once, about coffee that Brett’s pouring no actual consuming of food or drink
Contents: SO PAINFULLY SWEET YOURE GONNA NEED TO BOOK A DENTIST APPOINTMENT, istg it’s so cute and y’all two are fools, brett needs love and cries when he gets it
Author note: this is so precious as a concept and thank you for submitting this request I literally fell in love with the idea when I first read this ask. Muah — all the kisses for you
Brett had always been accustomed to giving more love than recieving it. From his siblings, his parents, childhood friends and fraternity brothers. Even coworkers. But working with Cognito Incorporated opened his heart a bit with how he got to receive love, true affection back.
The one who cracked that well-guarded heart was you.
He was not immediately enamored by you. Not so say he didn’t find you incredibly awesome and cool, someone he immediately befriended and got along with. Brett just hadn’t fallen in love with you immediately.
That’s not to say it didn’t take long for him to actually develop feelings, strong ones, that had him pining after you wistfully in a manner that irritated the fuck out of each and every member of the gang. Andre was this close to just throwing a bunch of illicit drug recipes together in attempts to create a love potion or something adjacent.
He was this close to being nothing but a literally lovesick puppy, trailing and tripping over your feet and eager to get any meagre amount of attention and affection from you. Brett would literally lie his head on your knee or lap while you worked at your desk if he could, and just beam up at you.
He’s sick in the head. The good kind. Lovesick.
Throughout all of this, he thinks you’re just oblivious to him or don’t really know him. Think of him as a stranger. The truth is quite the opposite, with you being incredibly interested and intrigued by the man. Finding him charming and sweet, complete package looks and personality wise. No one’s got a bad word to say about him.
That and he’s the type to lend you an umbrella when it’s pouring when he’s only got the one between the two of you. That’s because he did.
You had stayed late working on a report for your department that got lost in the shuffle and needed to be expedited, forgetting the time and hurrying out only to find the parking lot in a down pour. While mentally bracing to make a run for it, you catch Brett Hand extending his umbrella and offering it.
“You can have it! My car’s closer than yours is, makes sense that way.”
And you’re about to offer just sharing it and walking together but the man carries on, rambling about how you can even keep it if you want and he flushes before dashing out, drenching himself in a mad dash for his car truly not parked to far away. Sadly, rain still dealt harshly on his button down.
Luckily for you, you got a glimpse of his shirt when drenched, understanding the appeal of wet t-shirt contests immensely now that you fell into a stupor just looking at his chest.
He tucks into his car, seating himself in the drivers seat and buckling before taking a second to check his mirrors — he’s that great of a driver? Where did he come from, an L.L. Bean catalogue?— and starts the radio before turning back to glance at you, sitting underneath the lip of the building entrance and shrouded from the rain. He waves.
You wave back.
Brett doesn’t pull out of the parking lot and he gets confused looking at you standing there before you realize with one of those “oh shit I’m being stupid” moments that you need to go to your own car, go on home, and he’s waiting to make sure you get out okay. As you unfold the umbrella and lift it overhead and step out into the rain, you make a note of visiting the cloning department to ask about Brett and whether he’s real or not.
You lose yourself in thought but make it to your car, stepping into the drivers seat in a mirrored motion similar to Brett and do your routine, turning the car on and checking the mirrors and backseat, turning the radio on then pulling up navigation. And as you tuck the closed umbrella against the shotgun seat, you glance back and see Brett scrolling through his phone and glance up to catch your eye and he smiles, waves again cheerily.
Good lord he’s not real. Did Hallmark start back up their cloning company again? It’s not Christmas yet.
You put the car in drive, passing his in the parking lot as you pull out to the main road leading to the highway for your route home. You try not to think of him when you sing along to the radio when the lyrics of love songs catch your throat.
Brett sees you alone the next week, not catching an eyeful of you between the rainy day and now. He can’t take his eyes off you and he nearly overflows the coffee cup in his hand in the communal kitchen.
You look so lovely and he’s trying to figure out what you have done with your hair and then the next he knows you are already on your way and walking up to him.
He’d shoot himself in the foot if he could.
You look amused at how his tone lifted in pitch when he saw you, bright smile unwavering and shift on your feet. “I wanted to thank you for the other day and wanted to make you something — and it’s completely fine if you don’t like it! I won’t be offended.” You’re lying through your teeth.
Brett flushes crimson, pretty pink on his tanned cheeks and tugs his lip between his teeth, smiling like a child and his eyes get wide with joy, thinking you at least have to like him somewhat to make him something.
“You didn’t have to do that! Going out of your way and everything, but I’m sure I’ll love it. I don’t know how there could be anything you could make that I wouldn’t love.”
While he’s berating himself for almost just confessing all his feelings, you’re trying to not let your heart unravel and pool at your feel like an upturned spool of twine.
You shift and remove your hands from behind your back, revealing a bundle of fabric in this lovely apricot shade. His favorite color — orange. It’s tied with a big bow, one of those wired ones from the craft store, something personal about it that has his tummy seizing and twirling at the same time. God he could cry.
He tunes back in, eyes glancing between the bundle of fabric in your palms and up to your lips that move, and he’s just entranced. Bewitched. Ensnared.
“- like to crochet sometimes, it’s fun and it keeps my hands busy and my mind empty. But I hope you like it, Gigi told me it was your favorite color and I wanted to repay you.”
“Can I hug you?”
You quite nearly drop the scarf you made for him when you hear Brett speak and hold yourself back from screaming yes but just manage a nod and a somewhat timid smile, muttering a sure that makes both of your grins wider.
He smells like old spice and old fashioned cologne, like hand cream and coffee, feels like a dream and his arms wrap around you and you want to cling to them and beg him to never let go.
Instead you don’t, you hug him back, and say nothing about the tears that flick at the collar of your shirt’s neckline and how he tugs you so close. You just run a hand through his hair and hum, unworried about the scarf pressed between you and your worries for if you’d ever get to be close to him.
You already were, and with the strong arms wrapped around you, you felt tied and strung to him, utterly hooked. With his head on your shoulder and feeling his watery smile there against your pulse, you had no worries. No loose threads.
You just felt him.
Favorite headcanon for every ghoul! Go!
Ahhh!! OK! Thank you so much for asking!?
Fair warning these are going to be all over the place--and I can't just pick one, you get two for each.
- Magically connected to all the ghouls in his pack--no matter how far away they are. With a little effort he can feel what they're feeling (emotionally and physically). He definitely checks in on all of them at least once a day while they're away.
- Works in the infirmary. Stayed home because he found working there far more fulfilling than being on stage.
- Can use his magic to literally turn into shadow. Uses this power for good, as well as voyeuristic reasons. Gives a killer massage in that form. Loves to eavesdrop on clergy meetings.
- Fire/Shadow (quintessence really, but he doesn't know any other quint ghouls who can become discorporate sooooo) hybrid. One purple eye, one yellow/amber (all hybrids have heterochromia!)
- Actually an introvert. Loves acting out on stage. Can be loud and obnoxious. But really thrives on time alone. Not shy. Not reserved. Just needs to be left the fuck alone every once in a while and isn't afraid to tell people when he does.
-Still has a lot of water ghoul traits, but refuses to call himself a hybrid because his gills are scared over, and both of his eyes are the same color (though whether they are copper, or blue, seems to depend on the day).
- Crafty! Knits. Crochets. Very good at both. Uses that to fill her free time on tour. Is always making something.
- Oddly, doesn't like thunderstorms. It has nothing to do with the air pressure and everything to do with the lightning/thunder.
- The biggest bookworm out of all the ghouls. Will read anything. Always has a book with her. Makes list of book recommendations for all the other ghouls. When she tells you that you'll like a book--you can take that as fact.
- Hates to cook. She can cook, she isn't bad at it. But she genuinely hates it and does everything she can to avoid getting roped into it.
- Plants grow from around his horns when he's feeling strong emotions. He can grow stuff on command as well, but that takes a lot of effort. But the stuff that just sprouts when he's feeling a lot of something happens without effort and has no impact on his energy.
- Resident chef. Always cooks breakfast. Knows what everyone likes and doesn't like. Makes sure everyone always is fed and happy.
- Water/Air hybrid, but has more affinity for water. Air is hard for her. Water is as easy as breathing. But she only has one set of gills (on her ribs) instead of multiple sets like full water ghouls.
- Really terrible at keeping track of her human glamour. Frequently gets shoved in between two bigger ghouls when they're in public to hide the sudden appearance of her tail/horns/claws.
- Shy. So shy. But also kind of an extrovert. Wants to be around people all the time. Basically the opposite of Dew. Is nervous about talking to a stranger (or anyone), but cannot stand to be alone.
- Very emotionally intuitive because of his element. It's a little like reading minds without hearing thoughts. He can absolutely tell if someone is lying to him (or themselves). You cannot get one over on Aeon.
- Exhibitionist. A little like Narcissus. Really loves to look at himself too. Knows other people like to look at him. Gets off on it. (He and shadow Swiss definitely have an arrangement).
- So so wet. And always cool. Hugging Rain is like hugging a person who just got done swimming in the North Atlantic. Damp, and cold.
- Loves to garden. Not an earth ghoul, but has a strange affinity toward flowers and herbs. Spends almost as much time in the greenhouse and gardens as Mountain. She takes care of all of the plants in and around the abbey when he's gone.
- Calls herself a fire/air hybrid, but has a really strange grip on light manipulation. Can absolutely redirect sunlight to blind the shit out of someone. Swiss thinks if she tried hard enough she might be able to do what he does with shadow--just with light. She is afraid to try.
PLEASE MORE INKY BENDY (NSFW OR SFW) RELATIONSHIP HC??? IK IF HE DID EXIST HE WILL KILL ME BUT I STILL LOVE HIM
WE CAN NEVER HAVE ENOUGH INK DEMON
i absolutely love our inky boy and love writing for him even more, so i’d be glad to do any requests!!
i tend to write more darker characters, bendy included, so this one is also gonna include a monsterous and more evil bendy!! he seems to be a favorite of mine hehe
also, i’ve been thinking about making an actual story book of a bendy/reader, like an actual long fanfic. i’ve had it planned out in my head for awhile, and would post it on AO3 and wattpad. let me know if this is something you’d like to see!!
[-: let’s be honest, he doesn’t pick you up without a reason. for these hcs, we’ll say you have some unknown potential with the ink, some locked power stored up inside. Bendy would notice this power, and takes you in. He’s violent and menacing at first, and throughout most of your friendship. its like trying to crack through diamond, his lesser known emotions and demons packed deep down through trauma and abandonment. Luckily, he has you, which has somehow calmed the raging monster he is. Of course, he is still violent and consumes innocent souls almost every day, he has a more calming, passionate yet possessive side with you.
[-: he limits your contact with the rest of the studio as much as he can. as i’ve mentioned before, the ink demon is an extremely possessive creature, having only known hate and horror his entire life. seeing you with other people, conversing and helping them fills him with rage. your not supposed to help, your his.
[-: Something nice I think that would start between you both is listening to some soft jazz while Bendy plays with your hair.
[-: Another sort of intimate act he would enjoy is reading with his S/O. He prefers if you spoke in a soft voice, nearly a whisper, reading out the chapters. His head often hurts being able to hear everything going on in the studio, and just wants to relax while listening to your voice.
[-: I think he’d be like a crow. He’d memorize your face, sound, and scent, and actively seek you out to give you small gifts. Their nothing more than a rock he thought looked interesting, something shiny, or a little finger-scribbled note.
likes his tea with ink and two sugars
[-: okokok I’m gonna make him a bit of a granny, and say he enjoys knitting/crochet. I say this because he enjoys simple and couple-like activities, so, he would enjoy curling up with you while you sip on a cup of ink tea while his big hands move in symmetry, crossing the yarn over and knitting you a blanket.
[-: Sammy worships you as he would worship Bendy, seeing as you actually befriended and calmed the demon. But Sammy is delusional and two sides, so some days he’ll just be like “touch the ink demon and I’ll cut your fucking eyeballs out” and other days hes like “surrender to the demon and his royalty!!”
[-: I think it’d be such a contrast from Bendy’s personality to have a partner. The demon worshippers around the studio would definitely be confused, if not a little conflicted. While they did have their doubts, they soon learned that you were a helpful asset and enjoyed you, looking up to you as they would Bendy.
[-: Collects junk for you. It could be something as simple as a paperclip, or weird as a hunk of crushed metal resembling a frying-pan. He wants to show you things he found interesting as a way of showing his appreciation for you.
[-: He doesn’t understand the impact of the words “i love you”, and doesn’t say it, like ever. He’d welcome it from you like it was his dying words, but he’d never say it. He instead shows his “i love yous” through gifts.
NSFW under the cut!
[-: Has a big thing on breeding and claiming. Do expect to have many bites, scratches, and claw punctures all over your body.
[-: Bendy is not familiar with being slow or intimate, meaning he goes hard & fast, leaving your legs shaky and hands tremoring.
[-: While he doesn’t have endless stamina, he does tend to use you for at least 2-3 rounds or until he’s satisfied. Bendy needs outlets for anger, and apparently rough sex has become one of these.
[-: loves to “groom” you. i say groom, because I feel like its like how a cat would groom themselves. He licks around areas where he can feel your pulse or blood rush, especially the insides of your thighs, right where they meet your crotch. He nibbles on your skin, not enough to hurt, but just enough to tickle.
[-: going into a bit more darker side of bendy, he isn’t one for patience. While he doesn’t mind you being a brat and a “naughty lamb” to others, the ink demon is not particularly fond of it when its aimed at him. Punishment can range from ignoring you until your begging, wet tears sobbing down your face, or to inflict pain on you until your begging for a release. (His favorite form of punishment is biting your clit, or the tip of your cock until you sob)
[-: He loves to draw, as I think we all can agree. His favorite thing to draw is anatomy by far, seeing how bodys can deform and change down here. So, when he sees you, someone who has a fairly human body, he naturally wants to draw you, and nudes are apart of this.
[-: relating to the one above, he also likes to draw on your body. Either with his finger or with a paint brush dipped in ink, he loves the look of your skin being drawn in ink. If you have tattoos, he enjoys to copy them down onto a piece of paper. Loves to draw little hearts on the inside of your thighs or right above your crotch.
thank you for reading! ask box is open for BATIM/BATDR asks <3
of snow angels, ridiculousness, and the liberating breathlessness of falling in love with robin buckley
There's insistent knocking on the front door that draws Nancy's attention away from the book she's been sucked into for the last three hours.
"Coming!" she calls, moving the blanket from around her shoulders and rushing down the stairs. The knocking only gets more insistent and louder, and Nancy calls again, "I am coming, geez!"
If this is Mike who forgot his keys, again, she's going to ask Steve for the nail bat to whoop his ass like Erica has suggested a couple times already.
But when she opens the door, it's not Mike standing there. It's a very adorable, very excited-looking Robin, her hair and jacket covered in thick white snowflakes. When exactly it started snowing, Nancy doesn't know, but the streets are white.
And so is Robin.
Robin, who's grinning at her, swaying back and forth on her feet.
"It's snowing," is all she says, and Nancy wants to roll her eyes, because obviously, but all she can do is chuckle, feeling a bit breathless.
"Y-yeah, looks like it is, huh?"
"Snow, Nance!" Robin is laughing, her excited rocking almost turning into little jumps on the spot now, the same way Dustin does when he's overly enthused.
"It's winter, Robbie, that's bound to happen, you know?"
The nickname slips past her tongue before she can rein it in, and Nancy feels her cheeks heat up. She smiles, because that's what happens when Robin is there, and leans against the doorframe – partly to keep herself from reaching out and taking Robin's hand in hers like she's been longing to do.
It's crazy and Nancy doesn't really know what to do with it. This fluttering inside her chest, this inability to stop smiling, and – most importantly – this readiness to just follow Robin anywhere. Not just physically, but mentally. Robin's thoughts are all over the place most of the time, but still Nancy wants to follow them, wants to understand, wants to share with Robin the way she sees the world.
Nancy has always loved exploration and knowledge, has always valued facts and arguments and discourse and all those things that make stupid people roll their eyes in exasperation and impatience. But never Robin. She will engage with Nancy's hunger for knowledge, will support it, will spend hours in the library with her, smiling and bringing Nancy books upon books, even if they will stray from their original mission because Robin got excited over one thing or another, and then it's Nancy who indulges with a smile on her face.
They follow each other, and they do it with soft smiles, gentle massages if they've been stuck in one position too long, and patience. Curiosity. Trust.
It's new. It shouldn't work – and it didn't, in the beginning – but it does. Miraculously, wonderfully, it does. Miraculously, wonderfully, Robin's excitement sparks a giddiness in Nancy that she can only compensate by letting out a breathy laugh.
That only makes Robin grin all the brighter, and Nancy feels dizzy with it.
"Come and make snow angels with me. Dingus is busy, he has betrayed me and I'll make him pay by making the mightiest of all snow angels! And you're gonna join me."
Nancy's cheeks are starting to ache from smiling so much, but still she keeps at it. She crosses her arms in front of her chest and inclines her head.
"Oh, am I now?"
"You are in fact, Lady Wheeler," Robin says in that voice of hers. That stupidly endearing voice. "You're going to put on your coat and that floofy pink wooly hat that Steve crocheted for you the other week, and you're gonna join me on this adventure."
They look at each other for a moment or two, the snow keeps falling, covering Robin in white flakes that look so good on her, that make her look so young, so carefree. So beautiful.
See, beautiful is not usually a word that Nancy associates with the other woman. Smart, yes. Adorable, infuriating, endearing, really fucking amazing, sure. But lately, Nancy has started to put beautiful up there on the shelf of Robin Words inside her mind.
Before she knows it, captivated by the ethereal beauty of Robin covered in snow, waiting patiently, the entirety of her absolutely breathtaking attention solely on Nancy, she reaches up and brushes a strand of Robin's hair back behind her ear.
The excitement and giddiness make way for something different and Nancy watches as Robin's face falls slightly. It does that sometimes when she looks at Nancy for a bit too long and Nancy looks back. When they share something personal that makes the air sizzle or heavy between them.
And every time Nancy forgets how to breathe.
"I'll be right back," she says, her voice no more than a whisper, before she whirls around and all but slams the door shut behind her. She leans against it for a second, catching her breath and clenching her eyes shut. "Get it together, Wheeler!" she hisses at herself.
But eventually she does grab her coat, puts on her new hat that Robin keeps commenting on, and grabs some matching woollen gloves. When she opens the door, Robin is still outside, but her grin has made way to a more tender smile. She's made no move to free her hair from the snow, and Nancy has to bite her tongue on the remark that she's gonna catch her death like that. Because snow looks too good on her, and Nancy apparently likes to watch now.
"Well, let's go then, Lady Buckley," she says and pulls the front door closed behind her.
Robin immediately offers her arm for Nancy to link with, which she promptly accepts.
"Oh, I'm no lady," she says, taking Nancy down her driveway and onto the street, leading her away from home. "I'm a knight who tricked the king in a game of wits. I'm gonna be head of the royal guard one day, actually."
Nancy smiles down at the white ground, her heart fluttering at Robin's antics. Of course she's a knight, not a lady, and of course she says it in such a matter-of-fact voice that there's not a hint of doubt to it.
"Let me guess, the king is Steve."
"Please," Robin scoffs. "The king is Erica, who's tricking the entire kingdom into believing Steve has any say here."
Nancy laughs at that and sobers only when Robin joins her. Sobers because it's quite breathtaking to see Robin joking and making up stories so easily, laughing in a manner so carefree it's liberating.
Robin is always liberating. Nancy has never met someone like her, has never felt like she does around Robin. Never dared. Never followed anyone as lightly as she does with her.
At night, when the hours on the clock aren't real anymore, stuck in the void between 2am and 5am, Nancy feels like she has uncovered one of life's great mysteries when she's with Robin. Or maybe Robin has discovered it simply by existing and being herself. By being Steve's soulmate.
But Nancy gets to witness it, gets to exist in Robin's orbit, gets to follow her wherever she leads, gets to explore and experience life through Robin's eyes and hands and words. There is always sense to her ramblings, and it's usually deeper than she lets on at first, but it always captures Nancy in a way that no one ever has before.
Like now, when Robin lets go of her arm and takes Nancy's gloved hand in hers, leading her down a trail and into the forest. She's sure that Robin isn't even entirely aware of how tight their grip is, but Nancy only laughs as she follows, hiding the way she squeezes Robin's hand by feigning a stumble here and there. Robin's grip is secure and unrelenting, and Nancy feels safe.
"We always used to go here when I was little, because my mother said that the angels are always in the woods more than around the houses, and so they'd find my snow angels better if they were here than in my backyard. Granted, that didn't stop me from essentially digging over our yard in my clumsy attempts at making snow angels first thing in the morning, but mother just left me to it and made hot choc– Oh shit!"
Robin stops abruptly and whirls around to Nancy, still not letting go of her hand.
"I should have made hot chocolate! Because we're gonna be freezing so hard when we're done. I'm so sorry, Nancy, next time I'm gonna bring hot chocolate!"
Next time. Nancy isn't even entirely sure what's gonna happen, but the thought of a next time makes her heart jump somehow. So she brings her hands up to Robin's shoulders and keeps her still.
"Next time," she says, smiling gently at the ball of nerves that is Sir Robin of Buckley, royal knight to the kingdom.
"Next time," Robin confirms and calms down. "Next time. Good, yes, perfect." She looks around at the untouched snow in the clearing they have reached and then looks back at Nancy with an almost manic grin. "Let's make some snow angels, Lady Wheeler."
"Sure," Nancy laughs, everything inside her tingling in the face of that look on Robin's face. "I'm guessing this is as good a time as any to tell you that I've honestly never made a snow angel before."
And Robin is gaping at her. Appalled, horrified, positively flabbergasted! Nancy wants to kiss it away, but all she does is turn away with what can only be called a giggle. Nancy Wheeler is not someone who giggles! She hasn't since sophomore year of high school! Leave it to Robin Buckley to resort her to all those confusing things again, but in a softer way than boys ever have.
Maybe that's what it's like to like a girl. Soft. Easy. Tentative and yet so sure. The air filled with a kiddy kind of patience and a patient kind of giddiness that makes you want to take her hand more than it makes you want to kiss her.
Maybe. She never asked. But it's definitely what it's like to like Robin Buckley. Maybe she's special like that, too.
"I'll show you how to make a snow angel, Nancy Elizabeth Wheeler the twenty-third, and if it's the last thing I do!" Robin declares, and Nancy sputters at the ridiculousness of the name. Robin only grins back, obviously proud of herself. God, Nancy wants to kiss her stupid and then do nothing but hug her in the snow.
And so Robin shows her. They lie down in the snow beside each other, their eyes meeting, their arms spread out. Robin reaches for her hand, linking their fingers slowly, oh so slowly that it sort of takes Nancy's breath away. She wants to learn. Not only how to make a snow angel, but also how to hold Robin's hand in a way that makes her feel safe, too. Warm. Wonderful. Giddy.
All those urgently soft things that Nancy is feeling right now.
Gently, slowly, Robin moves their linked hands up until they can't hold each other's eyes anymore, the sight obstructed by linked hands on glittering white powder. It's Nancy who moves their hands down, farther than where they started, all the way until they'd have to let go.
"Yeah," Robin rasps when they still again. "That's how you do it. You move your arms up and down to create the wings, and then your legs to make the dress."
Nancy smirks, moving their hands in the motion Robin suggested, her other arm joining in, but her legs still. "What if my angel is actually a royal knight who tricked the king and will be head of the royal guard one day?"
She's flirting. And even though Robin's cheeks are red from the cold, she could swear they flush even further.
"Knights can wear dresses, too."
"Mm-hm. This one feels better like this, though," Nancy argues, her smile softening. "They look better like that, too."
Robin hesitates for a second, her breath hitching, before she comes up to lean on one arm, hand still linked with Nancy's.
"Ridiculous angel, huh?"
Nancy feels dizzy with the way Robin looks at her, that heaviness back to her gaze, a certain importance that looks a lot like the urgent softness and soft urgency Nancy's been feeling since Robin came knocking on her door.
"Absolutely infuriating angel," she agrees, feeling rather breathless. "Ridiculous. Stubborn enough to turn entire worlds on their head, and endearing enough to get away with it."
Robin huffs, looking down for a moment as if in an attempt to hide her face. Nancy can't quite breathe or track her own mind, but that's fine because all she wants to focus on is Robin.
That's another wonderful feature about her. Nancy's mind is very loud very often, but not in the same way that Eddie's or Steve's or even Robin's are. It's loud with responsibility, with the need to control, to explore, to figure out, to solve.
Robin gets her to quiet down. Gets her to focus on something other than that.
Something less to do with Nancy Wheeler and the world, and everything to do with Robin Buckley and the universe. Life. In a different way than what can be captured and expressed with science and reason and words.
That was what's drawn Nancy in, and that's what's keeping her.
It's what makes her shift her hold on Robin's hand so they're holding onto each other more securely.
"What?" she's whispering when Robin doesn't move for a while, and it's quiet enough not to burst the bubble of heaviness they find themselves in.
"Nothing." Robin shakes her head and then lets herself fall forward into the snow, her head inches away from Nancy's. Their hands, still linked, are now resting on Robin's stomach. "The ridiculous angel is just a mess."
Nancy's heart is fluttering at Robin's proximity and her breathy voice so, so close. She turns lightly, lying on her side in the snow, her other hand landing between them. They're so close she can smell Robin's scent of laundry detergent, books, Steve and something much sweeter.
"How?" she asks, just as breathy as Robin.
There's a huff of breath and Nancy can see that Robin's eyes are closed. "Because the ridiculous angel is ridiculous enough that… that they can't stop thinking about… someone. And think that there might be something there. Something more. With that someone."
"Someone," Nancy says, smiling still, and Gods, she feels so inebriated with it. "Why's it ridiculous to like that someone?"
"It's not ridiculous to like that someone. It's a law of nature, actually, to like that someone. She's, like, the smartest, prettiest, most badass gir– someone out there. It's just ridiculous to think that they would like the angel back. It's ridiculous to think that they'd like how much the angel dreams about taking their hand and holding it as they kiss. How much the angel thinks about holding them. It's all the angel, the ridiculous, infuriating angel can think about. The angel is actually a crazy person, you see."
"I see," Nancy breathes, her smile so wide, so painful that she wonders briefly if it should at all be possible to smile so wide. But she does. Because Robin still has her eyes closed. Because Robin is a crazy person. And so is Nancy.
Crazy. Absolutely batshit. Gone for the angel.
"Can you look at me?"
"Why?" She sounds like a toddler, her question more a refusal than a complaint, and it makes Nancy laugh. Crazy.
"Please?" And Nancy knows no one can resist her pouty voice. Robin herself has told her so.
It works. Robin opens those pretty eyes of hers and Nancy hopes that one day she'll get her breath back. They look at each other for a moment, two, three, and then Nancy moves her free hand up to Robin's cheek, gently stroking the hair back from her eyes.
And then she whispers, because she's still out of breath, because she doesn't want to spook Robin, and because she doesn't want to burst their bubble. She isn't ready yet for the world to hear. Only Robin. Only Robin. "None of that is ridiculous."
It takes a moment, but then understanding dawns in those eyes and Nancy is falling and falling and falling. That smile catches her, though.
"Shit," Robin breathes, and then they're laughing again, leaning into each other with it until their foreheads are touching, the snow making way for every confession, every touch, every possibility.
"Nance," she whispers once they've calmed down again. "Can I kiss you?"
And so they kiss in the embrace of the snow angels they've made, half covered by snow, secluded and safe from the world so ready to judge. It's just them. And Nancy finds that kissing Robin Buckley feels just as right as saving the world with her, just as right as following her into the library, into the forest, into the depths of her mind.
She never wants to stop.
written for @thefreakandthehair's spicy six winter fic challenge. the prompt: “I’ve honestly never made a snow angel before.” 🤍 thank you for creating this event/challenge! 🤍
A/N: merry fucking christmas *tears down calendar that says it's June* sorry to everyone who requested fics that i blatantly ignored, i have had an excruciatingly stressful year, and i feel like if i wrote said requests they wouldnt turn out the best they could be. ENJOY!!!!! (also fucking finally got around to writing erik omg yaayyyy)
Warnings: Swearing (probably), Dogs, Brief joke about murder, Mentions of alcohol (let me know if i missed any)
Pairings: (All Platonic) Logan Howlett x gn!teen!reader, Hank McCoy x gn!teen!reader, Scott Summers x gn!teen!reader, Kurt Wagner x gn!teen!reader, Jean Grey x gn!teen!reader, Jubilation Lee x gn!teen!reader, Charles Xavier x gn!teen!reader, Erik Lenhsherr x gn!teen!reader
It was early on Christmas morning. Scott had woken you up at 6am and dragged you down the stairs to open presents with the rest of your friends. You decided that your present to him this Christmas was not murdering him for this act of treachery (and a small painting of Scott depicted as one of Snow White's dwarves).
You curled up on the couch with your loving dog Edo, half asleep, as everyone exchanged gifts. A pile of presents and wrapping paper were slowly building up on the floor. So far, you had received a pair of fuzzy socks that Kurt had crocheted, the Twilight book series from Jean, a Snow White colouring book from Scott, and a new glitter-pen stationery set from Jubilee. Among those gifts you also had a thick leather-bound notebook from Professor McCoy, "The Art Of War" by Sun-Tzu from Erik, and a pair of novelty dice from the Professor. You weren't sure why you got that last one but you appreciated it all the same. As the group surrounding you chattered and joked, your gaze drifted towards the door. Logan had gone on a trip a few weeks ago, with the promise of being back before Christmas. So far he had yet to make an appearance, which was worrying you, but you tried to focus your thoughts back to your friends.
As the day went on, you found yourself glancing over to the door every few minutes, hoping Logan would walk in at any minute. You were currently trying to distract yourself by playing with Edo outdoors in the garden, despite the freezing cold. It wasn't working as well as you had hoped, as your mind still wandered and worried about Logan. Plus, your hands were getting numb.
As you throw a ball for Edo to catch, you hear someone walking up behind you. You turn, and are greeted with the site of Erik Lenhsherr, who has a mixture of a kind look and a "What the fuck are you doing out here in the freezing cold on Christmas?" look on his face. You knew Erik pretty well, despite the fact he had only moved into the mansion a few months ago, and the pair of you shared many pleasant conversations (which were all almost entirely about philosophy, western literature and cat memes.) You turn back around and watch as Edo runs up to you, a happy expression adorning his features.
"Might I ask why you aren't inside with everyone else?" Erik asked, watching Edo drop the ball in front of you, before his gaze turns to you. You pick up the slimy ball and pelt it across the yard. You watch Edo sprint after it, then deciding to say "Just thought I should appreciate nature at it's finest, s'all." You hear Erik sigh, and you turn back around to face him. His smile was gone now, instead replaced by creased eyebrows and a downturned mouth.
Erik shifted his shoulders, pondering what he should say, then sighed again. "I know you miss Logan, Y/N." Your gaze turns to the frost tipped grass as Erik continues, "And I know it's hard not having him here with you on Christmas." Erik pauses before saying "But I also know that if Logan were here, he wouldn't want you outside in the freezing cold, especially not alone." He paused again, then simply said with a small bit of worry evident in his voice "Come back inside, Y/N." You watch as Edo drops the ball further away and chases a bird around. You bite your the inside of your cheek, thinking for a moment, before agreeing "Ok." Erik smiled and patted you on the shoulder. "I'll see you inside." He turned and started walking away, then called after him "And put some gloves on!" You huff a small laugh and then whistle for Edo to come over.
It was now the late evening. Most of the younger kids had gone off to bed a while ago, so the living had the older kids and some of the teachers inside. An old re-run of 'Home Alone' was playing on the crappy TV that looked like it was around longer than Logan. Edo was curled up beside the fireplace, a content look on his face. Jean and Scott were leaning against each other on the couch, talking quietly amongst themselves. Jubilee and Kurt had gone to bed as they both apparently wanted to keep on track with their "sleep schedule", and wouldn't stay up for just another half hour. What a bunch of losers, you thought as you pulled on the socks Kurt crocheted for you.
You walk out of the living room, wandering down the hall towarss the main entrance. As you round the corner, you see the door open and Logan step in, covered in snow and rain. Your once bored expression turns into one of pure glee as you shout "LOGAN!" before barrelling into the man. Logan lets out a small 'oof' as you hug him, you wings wrapped around him. He hugs you back and says in his usual gruff manner "Missed you too, kid." You release him from your death grip and grin up at him, bouncing on the balls of your feet. "I have a present for you!" Logan raises an eyebrow, but before he can question the gift, you grab his hand and start dragging him towards the living room. As you walk, you ask Logan about where he went, and what it was like, and did he see any cute dogs, and did he take any photographs. He tried to keep up with your rapid fire questioning- that he was somewhat used to, after over a year of knowing you- when you arrive in the living room.
As the rest of the room greet Logan and make conversation with him, you walk over to the far corner of the room where you stashed your present for him during the morning. You fished out the present from behind a few books, which was brightly wrapped in pink wrapping paper, and had a pink bow stuck on top. As you turned around (nearly knocking over a vase with your tail due to your enthusiasm) you caught Erik throwing a questioning look at the present. In return you stuck your tongue out at him, to which he rolled his eyes and turned back around to Charles. You walked back over to Logan, who was standing near the fireplace, and stood in front of him. Logan looked down at you and raised an eyebrow when he spotted the present.
You thrust the present into his hands before holding your own behind your back. You smiled, slightly nervous, and said cheerfully "Open it!". Logan carefully unwrapped it, to reveal a mug. He turned the mug around and read the print on it, and laughed heartily. You grinned and laughed a bit yourself. "I'll use it everyday." Logan said, smiling down at the mug. The mug in question read; 'May contain Whiskey, Vodka and/or Beer' You had found it in a novelty gift shop a few months prior and thought it was perfect for Logan.
As you two talked, Logan thought about how grateful he was to have a little brat like you in his life. Sure, you could be a pain in the ass- especially when he was trying to teach you Maths- but you were a sweet kid. He didn't know where he'd be without you, his reminder to keep going and stick around. Meanwhile, you thought about how your life had been tipped upside down like a glass of water when you first entered the school, and then how quickly it was refilled. Your life had become so much better as you built your new home, your new family, that you loved so dearly. You were eternally grateful for your family, and hoped it would stay this way forever- filled with hugs, dogs, jokes, happiness and cat memes. Though, as you were surrounded by your loved ones chattering away, you had the dreading sense of feeling it wouldn't.
Smut with prompt 1 if that’s alright <3
In retrospect, this is not what I had in mind when I said surprise me.
Um, I got REALLY carried away so basically have a short-fic???
feel free to request: prompt list
Happy Anniversary - prompt 1
JJ’s never had an anniversary before. The longest ‘relationship’ he’s been in, before you, lasted a whole two weeks in ninth grade. The farthest they went was holding hands, and that was only because their friends wouldn’t stop heckling for them to. So, when JJ casually asked you what you wanted to do for your one-year anniversary whilst the two of you were walking back from the beach, you shrugged and said possibly the worst answer you could’ve given him. “Surprise me.”
JJ isn’t heartless. He knows what girls like, inside the bedroom and outside. He knows how to woo someone. What to say to have them all mushy and blushing and stuff. Hell, it’d clearly worked with you. But was he romantic? Now that’s a different thing entirely.
It didn’t help that you were rather low maintenance. That you were more than content with date nights that involved surfing and smoking and sometimes a late-night walk. Staying and watching a movie, usually ending up with the film completely neglected and your clothes on the floor. Dinners and presents and all of that weren’t as much your style. You weren’t against them, per say, but as a broke cut-resident yourself, you didn’t care about all the finer things in life.
“Why don’t you buy her a necklace?” John B offers from the deckchair.
“She doesn’t really wear necklaces,” JJ replies from the hammock. “She just has this one chain with her mom’s wedding ring on it. Always wears it.”
“A book?” Pope says.
“Not much of a reader,” JJ returns.
“Why don’t you do something for her instead of buying her something, then?” Kiara tries.
JJ sits up at that, frowning at her. “What’d ya mean?”
“Well, she seems like the kinda girl who likes doing things.”
“Oh, definitely,” JJ replies with a growing smirk.
Kie rolls her eyes at the innuendo. “JJ, gross. I mean, she’s always surfing or crocheting or whatever.”
“I don’t know shit about crocheting,” JJ tells Kie. “She does like to cook though. Makes the best lemon sea bass ever.”
“Why don’t you cook for her then?” Sarah says.
John B and Pope burst into laughter. JJ glares at them, unamused.
“What?” she innocently asks.
“JJ’s level of cooking is a piece of toast,” John B says.
“And even that’s got a fifty-fifty chance of success,” Pope adds.
“Fuck you guys! I can cook! How hard can it be? You just follow a recipe and throw some shit in a pan and then boom,” JJ challenges. They stare up at him, amused and unconvinced. “I can cook!”
“What’s her favourite meal?” Kie asks.
“She likes Italian,” JJ thinks aloud. “Maybe spaghetti and meatballs or something?”
“You’re going to make spaghetti and meatballs? Something that requires three different things being done simultaneously?” Pope asks him, eyebrows raised so high they nearly teeter on greeting his hairline.
“Watch me, golden boy,” JJ grins self-assuredly.
The only form of reply the blonde boy gets is John B digging into his pockets and pulling out a five-dollar bill, which he then holds out to Pope in bet.
The first thought you have as you walk up the porch steps of the chateau is ‘what the hell is that smell?’ It’s something akin to burning, though tinged with an overwhelming stench of garlic and tomato. The second thought you have as you open the door is ‘oh dear God.’
You’re greeted by a cloud of smoke and steam. It stings yours eyes a little. There’s chaos in the kitchen ahead. The clattering of pots and pans and JJ’s mumbled curses. The fact that the fire alarm hasn’t gone off can only mean that it’s broken. Smiling smally to yourself, amused, you dump your bag and cardigan on the pull-out sofa and walk through to the kitchen.
“In retrospect, this is not what I had in mind when I said surprise me,” you say, loud enough for him to hear you over the madness of his cooking.
JJ spins around at the sound of your voice. His hair is sticking in every which way (cap clearly abandoned) which only tells you he’s been stressfully raking his fingers through it. His eyes are wide and frantic like a man who just committed murder. Muscle tee damp with sweat from the overwhelming warmth that is standing in an unventilated kitchen of mayhem.
“I told you to come at eight,” he says.
You quirk a brow. “It is eight.”
“Wha—” His eyes flit to the clock on the wall, to the right of you. He cusses under his breath.
“What are you doing?”
You watch as he looks around at the chaos, as if coming to from sleepwalking. Your brow quirks higher still. “Starting a small house fire?”
“Cooking you dinner,” he corrects, shooting you a glare. “For our anniversary.”
Your smile can’t help but grow at that. Heart does a little summersault. He’s never cooked you dinner before (and now you can see why).
“Spaghetti and meatballs,” JJ adds, driven by your expression it seems. But then his confidence dwindles as he gestures lamely to the hob. The smoke and steam coming from it is the source of the garlic-tinged smell monstrosity. “But it’s, uh, not exactly going to plan.”
“In what way?”
“Well, to start, the pasta isn’t going all soft and stuff. It’s just sorta sticking to the pan,” he sighs, annoyed.
“Well, how much water did you add to it?”
He looks to you, blank. “I’m supposed to add water?”
You stare at him, gaping a little. Seriously?
Walking to the hob, looking down into the pan…Yep. That is just pasta, glued and burnt and probably never coming free. Then, you glance into the second pan. Pasta sauce that is weirdly brown-ish in colour, saturated with garlic (you can tell from smell alone) and mixed herbs that haven’t been diced properly, leading them to float at the top like driftwood. The meatballs are burnt past the point of no return. Chargrilled. The cooking top is covered in splatters of sauce and seasonings, making it filthy. The countertops are cluttered with every cooking utensil and appliance under the sun: spoons, knives, spatulas and even whisks (?). A bowl of grated cheese sits sadly to the side; the only thing that survived JJ’s culinary hand.
But, despite the catastrophe that it is, you can’t help but feel your heart thrum happily. Ironically, it’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever had done for you and is weirdly the perfect anniversary celebration. All of this took thought and time and effort. So, turning around, facing a very meek, embarrassed JJ who stands with his back against the fridge, hands shoved in his pockets and head hung in defeat, you find yourself smiling lovingly.
Your hands cradle his jaw, drawing his gaze to you, and you lean forward to kiss him. “I love it.”
“I do,” you assure. “And I love you.” Then you’re kissing him again.
JJ’s hands find home on your waist as he kisses you back, smiling. Pulling away after a moment, a little breathless, you glance over your shoulder. “I love it,” you repeat, “but I don’t think we should eat it.”
“Oh, definitely not,” JJ agrees quickly. The two of you laugh.
Another fleeting kiss and then you’re stepping out of his hold, the two of you moving to turn everything off. You toss the pan of pasta into the sink and run the tap, dunking half a bottle of washing up liquid in. Maybe that might give it a fighting chance. JJ half-arsedly piles up all the cooking utensils he’d used so there’s some more space. He then moves to the fridge to put away the grated cheese (no point letting it go to waste) whilst you tip the sauce and meatballs down the drain or into the bin.
“So, the main course might have been a bust,” JJ says with his head still in the fridge.
You chuckle as you lean to crack open every window in the kitchen, hoping to aerate the room. “To put it lightly.”
“But, hey: dessert and wine are still good,” JJ announces.
You shut off the tap and turn around, wiping your hands dry on a towel. He’s holding a tub of chocolate mousse and a bottle of cheap white wine up.
“Dessert’s the best course anyway,” you tell him with a grin that mirrors his own.
With that, the two of you head to the pull out. You swipe two spoons from the drawer on the way whilst JJ grabs a couple of mismatched wine glasses. Sighing as you sit, shuffling back to the pillows, you get to opening the wine. JJ’s wandering around the sitting room, messing with the old CD player, and as you’re filling up two glasses, some soft R&B music kicks on from the early 2000s.
“Oh?” you jokingly say, raising a brow at him.
He rolls his eyes and joins you, taking the outstretched glass you offer him. Smiling, you lean up to kiss him.
“Happy anniversary,” you whisper.
He clinks his glass to yours. “Happy anniversary, baby.”
The two of you drink and then JJ’s placing his glass on the window ledge, moving to open the mousse. You clap your hands happily, rubbing them together with a giggle.
“This might taste like shit,” JJ warns as he grabs one of the spoons. You place your glass on the side too.
“Can’t be much worse than your cooking,” you reply.
He decides not to respond to that, but you watch him roll his eyes mirthfully. Then he’s dipping the spoon in and holding it out for you. Leaning forward, you taste off the spoon.
“Mhm!” you nod, swallowing.
“Good!” you grin.
You take the other spoon and do the same for him, watching as he eats practically from the palm of your hands. His eyes hold your gaze as he does. Shamelessly, you squeeze your legs together. You swear only he could make something this cheesy sexy to you.
“You like it?” you wonder. He licks his lips.
“It’s alright,” JJ says, feigning being in thought (his growing smile giving him away). “Think I know something that tastes better.”
“Mhm,” he nods, leaning closer until you’re subconsciously sinking onto your back.
Playing along, you innocently ask through your excited smile, “what would that be?”
He takes your spoon from your hold, tossing it to the side after doing the same with his. Hovering over you, JJ leans down so his lips are a breadth’s width from yours.
“I think you know, baby,” he mumbles.
With that, he’s kissing you. Tastes like chocolate and vino. Your hands grab at his face, pulling him nearer, hooking your feet over his legs. JJ sighs against you, chuckles a little as you do too. Breaks away to kiss down your neck, moving slowly down the bed, coming to rest on his knees and dragging you by your feet to pull you nearer, making you laugh all flustered-like. JJ chews on his lower lip, grinning that punch-drunk grin you love, as he pulls off your skirt and panties. Then he’s going down on you. Relentless and unforgiving, as if to make-up for the cooking catastrophe. He’s tongue-fucking your centre and lapping at your wetness.
“Fuck, JJ,” you whimper, eyes slipping shut.
It’s like he’s spurred on by the sounds you make, likes when you whine out his name. You grip at the blankets on the pull-out sofa, staring at the ceiling, moaning through a blissed-out smile. His thumb rubs at your clit as he works at you with newfound fever. Moaning from the taste of you, the sound making you clench your legs tighter against his head. JJ uses a hand to hold one of your legs open for him. It’s all so fucking good. You’re building, closer and closer, until you’re coming with a gasp, quietly chanting his name.
When JJ pulls away, panting, you whine at the loss of his mouth on you. Moving atop of you again, you kiss at his mouth, sighing at the taste of yourself that lingers on his tongue. Your hands hurriedly move to undo his shorts as he kisses you, making him chuckle.
“Need you to fuck me,” you tell him breathlessly.
“Yes, ma’am,” he grins, moving to suck a hickey on your jawline.
Shucking the shorts off – JJ pulling back a moment to help – you slip a hand into his boxers and work at him. He groans against your jaw, falling pliant to your touch, making you smile. But you’re impatient the way he is, and you shove off his boxers.
“I wanna be on top,” you say as he kisses your neck.
“Fuck yes,” he replies. Climbs off you and grabs for your hips, guiding you atop of him as he collapses onto his back. You’re guiding him to your entrance, moaning as he slides against your wetness. As you go to sink down, he’s stopping you, making you meet his gaze. “Wait! We need a condom.”
You shake your head. Move to sink down again.
“Baby, stop, I’m serious,” JJ chuckles, breathless.
Smiling to yourself, you lean down to kiss him. Then, against his lips, you tell him your anniversary gift to him. “I’m on the pill.”
JJ pulls you away from him by the jaw so he can meet your eyes. Through nothing but looks, the two of you have a quick, silent conversation. Really? Yes. Chuckling boyishly, kissing you again, deeper and rushed, you giggle against him.
“Happy anniversary, baby.”
Yes i know his characterisation is utter shit and yes i am taking a marie kondo approach to the s2 canon
Sebastian had at least been around humans before his contract, so he at least had a passing idea of how to Human. Claude had not. Only interacted with humans ever if murder counts.
He’s actually short-sighted (someone on a wattpad book Black Butler Headcanons I can’t find for the life of me because wattpad utterly fucked up their search system suggested this was because his true form has eight eyes and I love it. I think the person who wrote it was called something like ‘The King Fisher’, so if that sounds familiar, say and I’ll tag you)
He has very little concept of social norms. Alois will be like ‘men are supposed to wear trousers and women are supposed to wear skirts >:(‘ and claude will be like
They’re both coming at the ‘gender is bullshit’ thing from two very different places
Sebastian is over-achieving as far as Claude’s concerned. He’s got three other Demons working for him and he’s going to make the most of it, there is no benefit from doing more than he has to.
He has mixed feeling about Alois. On the one hand he does know that Alois’ situation is not great and has even grown somewhat fond of him (platonically i swear to fuck some people in this fandom) but on the other there are few people on the planet less equipped to help than him.
Jokes aside, I imagine it’s a he/they/it situation, but it’s the Victorian era so Alois was like ‘well you’re probably not a woman so unfortunately that leaves you with one other option’ and Claude was like ‘that’s fine, how long could these contract things last anyway?’
His life pre-contract was basically just surviving in Hell, which has left him with extensive knowledge of nature and no sense of identity
Hates people, loves animals!
Took the contract more out of curiosity than anything else. He fucked around and found out!
Most of Alois and his contract is ‘if you have no idea what you’re supposed to be doing and I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing who’s driving this ship?’
The answer is Hannah obviously
My interpretation of the Hannah-Claude situation is that Claude (somehow) knows that Hannah killed Alois’ brother and that chasing after Sebastian is totally pointless, but if he tells Alois, Hannah will kill him (I hc Hannah as a very old, very powerful Demon). Hannah obviously doesn’t want Alois to find out the truth, so she has to sabotage quite a lot of Alois’ plans (which Claude has to carry out, so it makes his life a lot harder, which is Not A Vibe as far as Claude’s concerned)
Plus Hannah is like ‘actually you’re doing a shit job with Alois’ (true) ‘and if I had this contract instead of you he would be fine’ (not true)
Sort of mid-level Demon. Like he’s in pretty good health (aside from the crappy eyesight) but he’s not especially skilled in combat. He’s just sort of meh.
He likes knitting, crocheting, sewing, lace-making etc because it’s similar to web-building and he finds it relaxing
Sebastian fucking hates him after the Ciel kidnapping incident but the hatred is entirely one-sided. Claude does not give a singular shit about Sebastian, just thinks he’s (as the kids say) a bit of a try-hard
Knows for a Fact that Alois is a lot smarter than he lets on. Doesn’t rat him out on it though, he doesn’t get paid extra to be a snitch, and he’d probably do the same if the situation allowed
I’m torn between ‘totally non-judgemental’ and ‘is a massive bitch’, so I think it’s both. Totally non-judgemental is he’s ambivalent to/likes you, if he dislikes you he is judging you on everything you do right down to how you butter your toast and will chat shit behind your back
Even he didn’t like the previous Earl Trancy
Really not a fan of physical affection
I think if he and Aunt Frances met, it would be a case of unstoppable force (Aunt Frances knowing that Claude is doing 10000 things wrong and cutting so many corners he now has a circle) vs immovable object (Claude doesn’t care). The Sebastian - Aunt Frances dynamic heavily relies on Sebastian caring about her opinion and Claude simply does not have that problem.
Unlike Sebastian, he sometimes sleeps.
I don’t think he’s aro/ace he’s just never really had much of a chance to explore any of that,
Anyway, I will stop for now, this is already very long. I might make ones for Hannah and the Triplets because I will simply never stop talking about the kuro demons
More Kaneki Headcanons And Ideas!
Kaneki has a very nice puffy jacket with a fluffy hood! It keeps him very warm!
Kaneki loves to wander off! Never go shopping with this boy! He doesn’t do it on purpose, it just doesn’t occur to him that people would look for him
If you taught him to crochet, he’d crochet all day! He’d love the stimmy repetition and softness of the wool!
Kaneki enjoys rice paper wraps with prawn and peanut sauce!
One time he hit someone in the face very hard with insect repellent, but the can got busted and the gas went straight to his face! Thank god he was wearing a mask
Kaneki doesn’t really like fire. Sure, a little is fine because people get scared of it, however, he is also a bit scared of the fire, and he hates how bright it gets
Hide once gave him some worcestershire sauce in a glass and told him it was pepsi and he drank it and fell on the floor
Kaneki is a huge fan of farming in minecraft!
Kaneki thinks axolotls are awesome but also pretty weird. He’s done research on how to look after them, and decided it wasn’t really worth it, which he brings up every time anyone talks about axolotls
Kaneki likes to hibernate through his problems! When he quit being a gang leader to go back to Anteiku, he spent a lot of time sleeping to avoid thinking about things, even though he decided to use this time to find himself. Maybe he doesn’t really want to find himself after all he’s done?
Kaneki is a huge fan of M’n’Ms. He loves the small ones. He tries to restrain himself when he’s around others though
He talks a bit like a book character sometimes, which can be a little cringey on occasions, but he’ll also say really profound things completely on accident that change the vibe of the entire scenario
If you took him to Belle’s library from Beauty And The Beast, his jaw would drop and he’d start running excitedly around the library, admiring all of the collections. This is true regardless of which Kaneki you bring. The only exception is #240, who seems very stiff and unsure but is excited nonetheless and will look through the books with you if you coax him a little
Kaneki really likes things to be clean, Shironeki especially. He uses a lot of water washing all the clothes 3 times a week and all the sheets once a week, but it’s worth it to him to feel clean (“Doesn’t it smell nice? Tsukiyama pays for it anyway.”)
Every Kaneki hugs his pillow while sleeping. He’s not really aware of it
Haise is the only Kaneki who accepts hugs from other people
Black Reaper has a comically fancy case for his glasses, and whenever people comment on it he acts as if they were merely jealous. This is very funny to him somehow. It has his full name and everything, even a fake middle name written in gold
Shironeki doesn’t laugh at anyone’s jokes except his own. Sometimes he bursts out laughing randomly because he had a funny thought, but when someone asks it’s either something completely fucked or the most unfunny dad joke/pun to come out of someone’s mouth (usually the latter). Kuroneki and Haise laugh at everyone’s jokes to be polite. Reaperneki stares and then fake laughs in an obvious way, with his eyes open
Shironeki gets embarrassed about how small he is. On one hand it’s useful to look so delicate since it catches people off guard, but on the other he sometimes wishes he could look as scary as he wants to be. He feels a guilty pride when Banjou says he terrifies him regardless
Kaneki is actually a very pretty boy! He just has shit fashion, doesn’t eat or sleep in a healthy way ever, and a lot of people think he’s kinda weird when meeting him, so he doesn’t look as great as he could. If we fixed up his diet and sleep schedule (Shuu solves his fashion issue) he’s actually a cutie patootie! Idk what we’d do about him being weird though
Kaneki is a soggy lad in more ways than one! This man loves playing in the water. Forest adventure with the ghoulie? He’s going in the creek. You beg him not to, you beg him to stay, but in the end there’s nothing to stop him from leaving - he pads quietly towards the running water. Determined to try. He’s stripping away his shoes and socks, your pleads not reaching him. At first shocked by the cold, but willing to reattempt.
The vibrant moss springs back to its original position as his feet dip fully into the water. “It’s cold in here” “I JUST SAID NOT TO GET INTO THE WATER YOU’RE NOT MEANT TO BE THERE” “It’s kinda nice” “YOU COULD SLIP AND GET WET” “Uhuh. You should try this too, you can feel the water flowing around your legs. It’s so chilly”
He does fall on his ass actually and his butt is wet for the rest of the walk. Only reason he’s not taking off his jacket and shirt to swim too is the fact that someone is with him and he doesn’t want to hold them up for more than 5 minutes
Kaneki has a car but he’s still on his P-plate
Presenting all the artists I have worked with on my author journey thus far. 🏳️🌈📚🎨
Because I'm Team Human, and always will be.
Lianne Peterson, fantasyspritestudio on Instagram, is also a crochet artist, which is how I first met her. Back in the day, I made crochet toys and sculptures, and she still does. One thing led to another, and after she read my first book, we collaborated on the Iverbourne Tarot project, which expanded to include other indie artists.
Then we did the special editions together, which includes the tarot art as full page illustrations, and the scene with Lythienne threatening her boytoy—Panrauth, I mean. Also, that fan art of Novak still makes my heart sing. The plant guy is Lysander from the Levena books, and also fan art that I treasure.
@gagakumadraws has done so much work for me, this isn't even all of it. She is an absolute gem of a person and artist, and I'm so thankful to be able to call her my friend. There are the five Iverbourne cards, The Rebel Foxes cover, and so much Arlo and Thatch, from Phantom and Rook. There's the inside of the bookstore, and side characters like Silas (silver hair boi) and Arche.
Art not pictured are beautiful spice scenes, the outside of the bookstore, and a pirate play scene from Phantom and Rook. Oh, and a certain enby wolf shifter all tied up in knots.
@prince-peachie did some character art for me, depicting Novak as he first meet him and when the demon comes out to play. I first fell in love with Peachie's AFTG fan art, and I love everything he does!
The bottom left is Novak and Alvis on the ship, brought to life by @kislurysuje around the time Prince of Sylvan came out. It was one of my first printed pieces of gay art, and I love it so much.
The Moon is Eros from the Iverbourne series, and her card was created by @sholdthebus who I found on Tiktok. She does some amazing work, and has a Pride Armory! Think pride themed pins, like bisexual battle axes.
And my beloveds, @crossroadart-seabear and @foxglovefaun
I love these covers so dearly. The colors, the emotion and detail. Bear did Phantom and Rook, and Fox did Matsdotter and Adrastus. I love that the colors of the sequel echo the first book, and while each artist has their own style, the books look like they belong together. They are both fantastic people, and beautiful artists.
So yeah, fuck AI, and scream about your favorite artists. 🤘✨