#he is pretty! and messy. he needs a hairbrush

[maegalkarven]

Atrox and how Emperor thinks Glasya looks. Glasya disagrees so much.

Just normal Atrox things like speaking with a brain. Nothing concerning about it.

[fastandcarlos]

When He Carries An Item Specifically For You : ̗̀➛ F1 Reaction

» Max Verstappen

If there was one thing that Max loved, it was your hair, and when he loved playing with it as much as he did, it meant that he absolutely hated when it got ruined. To save that from happening, he always carried a hairband around his wrist so that he could offer it to you when you needed to move your hair out of your face and tie it back. As soon as he saw that it was annoying you, Max would hold the band out, or sometimes even decide that he was going to be the one to tie your hair up instead. 

» Lando Norris 

There were often times during the long race weekends when you found yourself getting pretty bored, using your phone to keep you entertained. The one thing you often forgot to pack with you though was a charger to keep your phone going throughout the day leaving you feeling a little lost as the screen went black. After one too many groans that your phone was dead, Lando decided that he was going to make sure that he kept a phone charger in his driver’s room at all times so that you always had easy access to one and could keep you happy whilst he raced. 

» Charles LeClerc 

When you were in the paddock, Charles loved to make sure that everyone knew which family you were a part of, and so usually had an item of Ferrari merch on him somewhere to pass onto you. Whether it was a top, a bracelet, a cap or a scarf, Charles loved to dress you in red. Even if it was a piece of merch that wasn’t realised to the fans, if he had access to it then he made sure that you did too so that everyone knew exactly who you were cheering on whilst at the back of the garage. 

» George Russell 

With all the travelling that you did, your bag was often filled with different things to keep yourself entertained, one of your favourite things being your latest read, the story usually gripping you. However, one thing you weren’t quite so good at remembering to take with you was a bookmark. After watching you fold pages for many weeks, George ended up going out and buying a bookmark on a day off and slipping it into his bag so he always had one that he could hand to you to use when you wanted to make sure that you didn’t lose your page. 

» Oscar Piastri 

To say you were clumsy was an absolute understatement, and so simply to survive, Oscar was always the one to carry your passport. After one too many near misses at airports, he decided that he would take it instead so you both knew exactly where it was. He had a safe space in his bag where yours and his sat, unlike you who tended to just hold it in your hand. You tried to protest that you were capable of carrying it, but after being responsible for several missed flights you knew that it was probably for the best that Oscar looked after such an important item. 

» Carlos Sainz 

Although he tried his best to convince you that the hairbrush that he usually carried in his bag was for you, you weren’t entirely convinced, and neither was the rest of Carlos’ team either. When you watched Carlos pull the brush out, quite often you’d catch him brushing quickly through his hair to fix his messy locks before handing it across to you to use. He was far too proud to ever confess to carrying a brush for himself, but you knew that he loved having it on him just as much for his benefit as it was for your benefit. 

» Daniel Ricciardo 

Just like Daniel, the cold was not your friend, especially during the tricky winters at some of the races. You were like holding onto an ice block sometimes with how cold you were, which Daniel was not particularly a fan of when he wanted so often to hold your hand. To counteract this, Daniel often kept a pair of gloves in the bottom of his bag when the two of you went out into the chilly air, making sure that you had a nice thick layer on to keep you warm, and make holding your hand much more comfortable for him too. 

» Lewis Hamilton 

It was a nervous habit of yours to mess with your lips, you often picked at the skin whenever you began to get worried which Lewis usually picked up on. Luckily for you, Lewis was always on hand to make sure that your lips were well taken care of though, with a lip balm safe in his pocket most of the time when you were out of the house. Every so often he would remind you to put some on so that your lips were nice and smooth and make sure there wasn’t any skin for you to tug at and risk making your lips sore. 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[msnmnt]

Midnight Comfort

Summary: Just a short something inspired by Mase’s little injury at the weekend. Set during early stages of a relationship, lots of (debatable) banter and just fluff really. 🥹🩶

The sound of your front door buzzing in sync with your phone startled you, the book you had once been engrossed in slipping from your fingers and down onto your bed.

You scrunched up your face in confusion, placing your book to the side as you hurriedly pulled your phone off charge from your bedside table, quickly tapping the notification that told you someone was at the front door of your flat.

You pondered who it could be, after all, it was getting on for midnight on a Sunday night. Anxiety hit you as the live feed of your security camera loaded up on your phone. Your heart hammered in your chest and you let out a heavy breath seeing Mason stood there, absent mindingly looking around the corridor as he waited on your door step.

You hurried out from the blanket you had been tucked under, winding down for the evening. You frantically searched for your hairbrush, tugging it through your messy locks as you did your best to somewhat tame it. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and cursed under your breath for having already taken your makeup off.

You hadn’t been living in Manchester for very long, but you had had your first meeting with Mason not long after you’d moved in. He had held the door open for you when you were both heading out at the same time one day, and from then on out you seemed to bump into him and his dreamy chocolate eyes every time you left your flat.

After numerous encounters of catching the other taking cheeky glances in the lift, passing in the hallway, walking to your cars. Mason had finally begun to make small talk and one evening when he had returned from having drinks with the boys, the alcohol had gave him the push he needed to pluck up the courage to ask you out.

It was still the early stages of your relationship, but you were absolutely smitten with him. Your dates so far had been kept casual: grabbing a drink at a local coffee shop, spending the afternoon on a dog walk and a Saturday spent having a game of crazy golf before indulging in a picnic. Mason had been the perfect gentleman; opening his car door for you, always complementing how you looked and never making you pay for a thing. He truly made you feel like a princess.

You had enjoyed your time getting to know him and were looking forward to your next date during the week at some fancy restaurant Mason often frequented. You weren’t ashamed to say the prospect of seeing him all dressed up for the first time made you feel a little giddy.

As much as you adored his company, you couldn’t help but be a little concerned as to what he could possibly be doing outside your flat at this time, and so you slipped your feet into your slippers and padded over to the front door.

You looked out of the eye hole, almost as if to check you hadn’t imagined what you had seen on your camera, before you cautiously opened the door.

His arms were folded across his big hoodie that made him look extra soft and cuddly. His hair appeared slightly damp and his face was a little paler than usual, wide brown eyes immediately meeting yours and making you melt as they always did.

“Y/n! Hi, how’re you?” He babbled out, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jogging bottoms, finding himself uncharacteristically nervous.

“Umm, I’m fine, are you - is everything okay, Mason?” You asked, confusion clear in your voice.

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine.” He quickly spoke, not wanting to worry you. “I just, um-“ He rambled on, not sure how to word himself. “I had a bit of an accident at the game today, I smacked my head up pretty bad.” He turned around briefly, showing you the fresh stitches which made you wince in sympathy.

“They told me I’ll be fine but it might be a good idea to have someone around, you know, just incase anything was to happen.”

You felt your chest tighten and your throat go dry. He wanted you to look after him?

“I remembered you said you had a few days off work and I just thought -“ Mason stopped himself, suddenly realising how much he was asking from you. After all, you weren’t his girlfriend. Hell, he hadn’t even asked you to be exclusive yet. But when the doctor told him he might want to have someone with him for the night, the only person he wanted to be with was you.

“You can say no, I mean - you probably have plans tomorrow, I shouldn’t have came round at this time, I just - God, I’m sorry.” Mason continued, a little overcome with emotions from the injury that added to his worry you were going to say no.

“Mason, of course you can come in.”

He dipped his head up, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

“Really?”

You nodded, opening the door and beckoning him inside.

Mason wandered in and you closed the door behind him, leading him through to the living room. You flicked the light switch on and Mason felt a pang of guilt that you had clearly been settled down for the evening.

“I’m sorry, were you asleep?” He glanced over at your body, taking in the plaid pair of pyjama bottoms and little strappy top you had on.

You shook your head. “I was just reading.”

“Another one of your spooky books?”

You couldn’t help but grin knowing he had remembered how much you loved your horror books, something you had mentioned to him on your first date.

You nodded and Mason smiled before pressing a little more for the details of his book. You knew he had no real interest in them, but the fact he was willing to listen to you go on about it made you so happy.

When the conversation died down a little, you took the opportunity to turn the TV on. You left it on whatever channel you had been watching most recently, just wanting a bit of background noise to help break the tension and make you feel a little more comfortable at the new setting you had found yourself in.

“So, what happened?” You asked and Mason couldn’t help but feel a little gutted that you hadn’t been watching the game.

He did his best to explain, showing off his stitches once more which just made you more concerned for him. He reassured you he was fine and there should be no after affects apart from a sore head for a few days.

“Shall I make us some hot chocolates?” You suggested and Mason’s eyes lit up. “It might do you good to get some sugar in you.”

“That would be nice.” Mason grinned.

You fixed up two mugs in the kitchen before returning to your living room to find Mason sat up straight on the sofa, his arms tucked in his lap. He looked almost as though he was a school boy waiting to be told what he could and couldn’t do.

You chuckled softly making Mason jump as you appeared around the corner. You walked over to him and he quietly thanked you as you handed him the mug.

“Cute slippers.” You looked down at your feet, your face warming as you took in your fluffy and totally seasonably inappropriate reindeer slippers that you had popped on to answer the door in.

“Well I wasn’t exactly expecting company at this time.” You pouted in an effort to defend yourself, but you immediately regretted it when you noticed Mason tense up, clearly feeling bad again.

“You can make yourself at home, Mase.” You settled yourself next to him on the sofa, trying to relax him. Mason’s heart jumped at you using his nickname for the first time, feeling a little more as ease.

He wiggled around on the sofa, repositioning himself as he lent back, taking a sip of the warm coco before placing it on a coaster on your coffee table.

“I’m sorry, I do feel bad for just turning up.” He murmed and you just wanted to make him feel better, loving the fact that you were the person he wanted to be with him.

“Honestly, don’t worry, Mason. I would’ve been up for another couple of hours reading anyway.” You lied, knowing full well you were dropping off to sleep in your book. You didn’t want him to feel guilty and besides, you’d have stayed up all night if that was what he wanted.

The pair of you made small talk about your days, Mason telling you about the rest of the game before his incident. You finished your hot chocolates and it wasn’t long before you felt your eyes threatening to close. You stifled a yawn with your hand, blinking in an attempt to keep your eyes open.

“You’re sleepy, I’m sorry -“ Mason stood up, fully prepared to leave till you jumped up to stop him.

“Why don’t we go relax in my bed?”

Your own words took you by surprise and Mason’s eyes lit up hearing you talk about your bed, for a brief moment completely forgetting about his injury.

Mason nodded at your suggestion. “If that’s okay with you, I mean, if it isn’t I can sleep on the sofa?”

You shook your head. “And how am I supposed to keep an eye on you if you’re in a different room to me?” You asked playfully, extending your hand out for him to grab. “Come on.”

Mason’s heart twinged as he followed you into your bedroom. Your duvet was pulled back on your side and your book was led open, upside down on your bedside table to save your page.

He made his way round to the other side of the bed, standing there hesitantly as he waited for you to pull the duvet back for him.

You giggled at how apprehensive he was. “There’s no need to be nervous, Mase. I won’t bite.” You chuckled, gladly slipping your legs under the duvet before playfully tapping the empty space next to you.

Mason felt silly as his cheeks heated up, internally telling himself to get a grip.

You gestured for him to come lay his head on your chest as he got himself cosy next to you. He begun to lean down onto you but as his head came into contact with your chest, he groaned in pain, having put too much pressure on the back of his head.

“Fuck.” Mason cursed. He immediately sat up and you followed him, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Shit, sorry, I - I shouldn’t have got you to do that, I wasn’t thinking.” You apologised, feeling awful.

Mason was clutching his head with one hand, reaching out with his other to intertwine his fingers with yours, letting you know he was okay. He took a few moments till the initial shock and pain had passed before he squeezed your hand.

Your eyes were glazed over as you watched on, not wanting to do anything that could potentially make the pain any worse. Mason noticed your bleary eyes, giving your hand another tight squeeze. “Hey, don’t be silly, baby. I should’ve known better than to put pressure on it. It’s not your fault.”

You huffed. I’m not doing a very good job of looking after you.” You bowed your head slightly. “You must be in so much pain, it looked like you hit it so hard.”

You were confused when a smirk appeared on Mason’s face, suddenly looking very smug.

“What?”

Mason chuckled. “I thought you didn’t watch the game?” He teased knowingly, enjoying watching as you squirmed knowing you had been caught out.

You didn’t want to come across as too keen, and admitting you had been sat at home on your own that evening, watching some football game you couldn’t care less about just to see his pretty face? That wasn’t something you were wanting to admit to.

You were greatful for the minimal lighting your lamp was providing, hoping Mason wouldn’t catch on to how embarrassed you were.

“I might have caught a little bit.” You admitted sheepishly. “I just wanted to see how you were getting on so I knew what kind of mood you’d be in for our date.”

Mason raised his eyebrows. “Date?”

“Oh, I , er-“ You stuttered, scrambling for words. Is that not what it was?

You began to panic, only breathing a sigh of relief when Mason sniggered.

“I’m just kidding, angel.” All was forgotten when the pet name left his lips, your insides bubbling up and giving you a sickly sweet feeling in your tummy.

You tried not to let it show how happy one simple word had made you.

“You’re well enough to still behave like a little shit, then.” You rolled your eyes and Mason chuckled.

“I’m very much looking forward to it, our date.” He confirmed. “Our fourth date, actually.”

You gave him a soft smile, heart beaming that he had been keeping track.

“I’d still really like a cuddle.” He jutted out his bottom lip, his big brown eyes looking up at you like butter wouldn’t melt.

“If you lay on your side I can, um, I can cuddle up to you.” You shyly offered.

“Yeah?” He asked and you nodded.

“Just be careful laying down this time, okay?” You were stern, not wanting to see him in any more pain.

Mason slowly settled himself down in the bed, turning sideways so he wasn’t putting any pressure on the back of his head.

You were quick to join him, carefully laying behind him and tucking your body as close to his as you could. You wrapped your arm around his torso, repositioning your body so it was slightly higher up the bed and you could tuck your face into Mason’s neck, gently planting a singular soft kiss there.

“That okay?” You asked, suddenly feeling nervous about what you had just done.

Mason mumbled a content ‘yes’, the feel of your breath on his neck making his eyes fall shut, and the pain in his head somehow subsiding as he settled into your arms. His hand went to intertwine his fingers with yours, your arm still holding him closely to you.

“Mhm, think I could get used to this.” Mason shamelessly admitted, loving having you snuggled up behind him and holding him.

You tangled your legs with Mason’s, tucking your feet in between the fabric of his trousers to keep them warm. You just hoped Mason couldn’t feel the way your heart was hammering in your chest at being so close to him for the first time.

You hummed, feeling yourself get sleepy, completely relaxed. “No, this is special treatment for today only.” You told him. “I’m definitely being little spoon next time.”

[lijojo]

love is in the details.

after years of being married and living together, you two have settled into a little routine. what’s the little moments that make your life special?

genshin characters x reader 

brushing each other’s hair in the morning

early in the morning, regardless of whether either of you have to go out or not, you help brush each other’s hair. if you’re in a rush, he’s groggily following you into the kitchen, hairbrush in hand. you’ll be sitting there eating breakfast while he’s standing behind you trying to manage your bedhead.

his touch is gentle, loving as he files through your strands. if you have a specific hair routine in the morning, he’ll do that for you. rubbing your favorite hair oil in his hands, he’ll gingerly comb it through your hair, massaging your scalp in the process.

and you’ll brush through his hair and try to micromanage the little tufts that stick out. when you’re finished, he’ll turn around to give you the softest kiss on the forehead and say “thank you, love.”

when you two know neither of you are going out for the rest of the day, you’ll pull out your collection of flowery clips you saw the other day at the market and tie his hair up in multiple silly little ponytails decorated with butterflies.

even if he doesn’t like it, he’ll never tell you. not when you look so happy, content with making a mini ponytail that made him look akin to a unicorn. instead, he’ll sit still and look pretty, watching through the mirror’s reflection as you clip his hair back with a giggle. his eyes will soften, like you’re the most precious thing. 

kaeya, kazuha, diluc, zhongli, baizhu, albedo, alhaitham, xiao

 brushing your teeth together

it doesn’t seem like a big thing, but you two make it a point to never brush your teeth without the other. not if you can help it, at least. when one of you gets out of bed before the other, whether it’s because you have something you need to do or you’re making breakfast, the other will quickly follow suit. 

when your eyes accidentally meet each other’s in the mirror, he’ll raise his hand to ruffle through your hair. and depending on his mood, he might put you into playful headlock, not letting go until you squeeze the fat at his waist. 

sometimes while you’re doing other things, he’ll come from to tug at your wrist, signaling that he needs to brush his teeth after eating something sweet. he won’t say anything, but the two of you have quickly reached a silent understanding. 

and if he’s feeling a little bit annoying that day, he’ll press a messy kiss on your cheek. you’ll groan as you clean the toothpaste off your face but he’ll just smile smirk cheekily at you as he tries to dodge your own kisses. 

in the midst of your scuffle, if toothpaste lands on your shirt you’ll point at it and laugh together. 

some days, when you’re sad, you find it hard to keep up with personal hygiene. there are days where it feels too hard to get out of bed and take care of yourself, but he’s always there to make self-care seem just a bit easier. 

childe, thoma, tighnari, scaramouche, kaveh, ayato, gorou, alhaitham

singing songs in the kitchen

when you two are cooking, the two of you will sing together. it’s not some loud thing. if one of you has a song stuck in your head, you’ll hum it in harmony as you fry the eggs. 

occasionally, you two will break out in full-on concerts. you’ll pretend that the spatula is your microphone as you preform a grammy-winning duet. as you wait for the pot the boil, you’ll dance as if you’re on stage in front of thousands. 

as time passes, you guys end up leaving a notepad and pen somewhere in the corner. while you’re cooking, baking, or simply getting a snack from the fridge, if you have some kind of song/lyric idea you’ll messily scribble it down and be on your merry way. 

and so, you two probably have a couple albums worth of silly songs. sometimes you write it together, sometimes you’ll pass by and check to see if he added something new. sometimes the songs are about the new cooking recipe you’re trying out, sometimes it’s a sweet love song. 

either way, the two of you are jamming it out in the kitchen. whether the two of you are cutting vegetables or stirring the pot, you two are in harmony. 

venti, kaeya, kaveh, kazuha, cyno, childe, itto, thoma

playing little pranks 

when you least expect it, he’ll switch your rings. just to see if you’d noticed. he’ll give you at least a couple of hours (at most a day, but that’s only if you’re really busy) to notice. if you do, he just smiles cheekily and switches them back. if you don’t, he’ll pout and ask for a kiss to make up for it. 

when you’re feeling overworked and burnt out, he’ll walk into the room with a glass of water and some fruit. he’ll give you a kiss for good luck, nuzzling his nose into the crown of your hair and walk out swiftly as if he was never there. 

if you don’t look up fast enough to catch him before he’s out the room, you’ll miss the fact that he’s wearing your bra outside of his shirt and walking as if he was on a runway. when you do, you’re quick to act on it. you sprint out of the room with the biggest grin. by then, he’s heard your footsteps and is already on the run. when you catch him, you pepper him with hundreds of tiny little kisses.

“that’s what you get for taking my bra,” you say in-between giggles. 

he wraps his arms around your neck, peppering you with equally as many kisses. 

“i don’t think this is a very good punishment. i’m not supposed to like it,” he muses cheekily. 

when the two of you’ve calmed down, he’ll give you a final kiss goodbye before you return to work, recharged.

his little shenanigans might be distracting sometimes, but it’s because of him that you’ve learned the importance of stepping back and letting yourself breathe. 

venti, childe, kaveh, kaeya, itto, ayato

[helaelaemond]

Who Else Is Gonna Put Up With Me This Way? - Billy Washington x reader

Pairing: Billy Washington x female reader

Summary: You’re in an unstable relationship with Billy Washington - you've broken up with him countless times, and he's found himself back between your thighs again. This time, though, it's for real. But you're the one thing worth fighting for.

Dark!Billy, dub-con, possessive Billy, fingering, penetrative sex (f receiving), rough treatment, degradation.

Warnings: mentions of rape (none committed), mentions of domestic abuse (none committed by Billy, reader slaps him), discussions of Islamophobia,

Rating: E

Word count: 2.9k

Based on the results from this poll. Doing it for the girls gays and theys!

tagging those who showed interest: @tssf-imagines / @slytherincursebreaker / @humanpurposes / @arcielee / @elizarbell / @heimtathurs / @ewanmitchellcrumbs / @targaryenrealnessdarling / @valeskafics

"What are y'doing?"

You shove past him and storm into the bedroom, grabbing a bag from the wardrobe and dropping it onto the bed. "I'm done. I'm fucking done."

"Are you serious?" Billy stands in the doorway with a red face and thin lips, watching you with wide eyes.

You spit the answer back at him. "Does it look like I'm joking?" You grab whatever you can from the draws next to your side of the bed and shove them into your bag without looking.

"Over this?"

"This? This? You've lost your fucking mind! I don't recognise you anymore!"

"Oh, c'mon, I was drunk, and no one got hurt-!"

"Those people woke up to find they've been victims of your stupidity, all because you believe bullshit you've read-"

"Give me a fucking break!" He slams his hand on the door frame, and his eyes blaze.

"You hitting that because you want to hit me?"

Billy slinks over to you and rips the bag from your hand. "Don't act like I'd ever lay a hand on you; you know I wouldn't."

"I don't know what you'd do anymore," you answer defiantly. "I didn't think you'd ever smash up a Muslim butchers, yet here we are!"

"For fuck's sake! Who cares? No one got hurt!"

You wrench the bag from his hands and throw in a couple of tops and trousers, before pushing past him to the bathroom. He dogs your steps.

"They're real people; you know that, right?"

"I'm sure they're insured. Everyone knows those people are tight with their money. Got their own banks with special rules and everything."

"Those people? Your brain's been rotted by those fucking pigs you call friends! I don't even recognise you half the time!" After grabbing your toiletries, you're back in the bedroom packing up phone chargers, your earring box, your hairbrush. Whatever you need for a few nights, before you come back to get the rest of your stuff.

He keeps close to you. Threatening you. Shadowing you. He's so tall. You hate him. You fucking love him. That's why this is so hard.

"I'm still me," he says lowly.

"Oh yeah? Prove it."

"How?"

"Get rid of those cunts rewiring your brain, and start giving a fuck about people again."

His lip twitches and he catches your arm, pulling you close to him. "I care about you."

With more strength than you realise you have, you press your hands against his chest and escape his clutches. "Not enough."

He follows you when you go into the living room. It's messy, covered in beer cans and food containers and papers and cables, and you let out a shout of frustration. "I hate it here! I fucking hate it!"

"If you hate it so much, why do you keep coming back?" he thunders.

You open your mouth to reply, but no words come. You know why. He knows why. It's pathetic, really. But you can't quit him. He poisons your life, and God, you love the way it tastes.

Fury flashes in his pretty eyes, the eyes that capture you every time. He smirks, but there's no humour in it. "That's what I thought. Can't stay away, can you? You know you're mine."

"Don't play that game," you warn.

"S'not a game."

Billy steps closer to you again, and something akin to dread rushes through you. "No, it's not. So fuck off."

"D'you hate me?"

You glare up at him. There's fire in you now, fire in your belly, in your eyes. "Yeah, I do."

"Liar."

You suddenly slap him, and he grunts as his head is knocked to the side. God, it feels good to do that. Even when he turns to look at you in shock, in disgust, it feels good. "I hate you."

When he grabs you by the waist and shoves you against the wall, it's not a surprise. That doesn't make it any less of a thrill. He runs his nose up your neck and inhales deeply. "So if I shove my hand against your pussy, I'll find you dry?"

"Don't fucking touch me!" You hit his chest to try to get him away from you, but he's stronger. He doesn't go to the gym anymore, but he's stronger. You grab his hair and pull, but he's stronger.

"This is what you want, huh?" His large hands push up your shirt and grasp without care at your breasts. It hurts. It's good. "To pretend you hate me and pretend you don't want this?"

"I don't want it!" A half lie. You shouldn't want it. You know you shouldn't.

"Oh yeah?" he grunts. One hand wraps around your throat, finger and thumb pressing against the edge of your jaw, and the other slips under your waistband. You clench your legs together in response - but he's stronger. The heat between them betrays you, and he wedges his fingers between your folds to find slickness gathering there. "Sure feels like you want it."

"That's got fuck all to do with you."

His eyebrows are raised as he looks down at you, towering tall. Sandy hair flops messily over his eyes, unkempt and greasy. He's disgusting. But you chase his hand.

"I think you like me like this." Dropping his voice, he runs his finger around your clit, as if you're in any way ready for that.

"Like what?" you hiss. "A fucking rapist?"

"No one's getting raped, baby. You want this. You want me to force you to stay."

"No, I don't!" But you grab his wrist to hold it in place. For a moment, it seems like he's taking your words to heart and so his fingers still, but you hold him fast to make sure they stay where they are.

Looking into your face, he grins coldly. "You're such a slut, aren't you? You gonna come on my fingers?"

"You wish! You couldn't make me come now if you tried."

The fingers on your throat tighten slightly, and they apply pressure to the thick veins under your skin. He will be able to feel how quick your pulse is getting. Billy leans his close facer to yours. "You think anyone will be able to make you feel like I do?"

You shake your head slightly. "No. That's the point."

"Hmm." His lip twitches in anger. And then his fingers are pressing against your soft folds, digging it, dragging nails down them, and your stifled groan makes his eyes glint. "You love being used however I want."

"No, I don't. I'm not your thing to play with."

Then, his hands are gone, and he presses the length of his body against yours, and you're trapped tight between him and the wall, and it feels crushing, it's overwhelming, it's stifling-

Billy bites your ear and blows into it. It makes your nipples hard. "Yes, you are. Always have been." He rolls his hips against you, and it presses his half-hard cock against your stomach. As you clench around nothing, a shiver runs through your body. Of course, he notices, and he grins. "See? You want me to use you like the whore you are."

"I'm not a whore," you rasp. "You never fucking paid me."

"Maybe I should have done. You suck my cock like a porn star. All needy and whimpering like you can't live without it."

"Get off me!"

But you grasp the back of his shirt and claw at the skin at the base of his spine. It's so soft there, the gentle peach fuzz comforting under your fingertips. He's still Billy, somewhere underneath it all. Maybe. He presses harder. It's difficult to breathe.

Messily, he licks against your ear and groans. The obscene sound makes your eyes roll back."You leave this flat, you're never coming back."

"Then let me go."

"Never."

You drag your nails over his skin. Red welts are left in the wake. "You're a monster."

"What does that make you, then?" Billy asks with a dry chuckle.

"Stop trying to turn this into a game."

He pulls back to look at you with hooded eyes, lips parted. "I already told you, this in't a game."

"Even if it was, you'd lose." Something comes over you, and you spit in his face. "Fucking loser. Freak."

It makes him snarl. It makes him rough. With all his strength, he turns you to face the wall and shoves down your trousers, your underwear. You can barely spread your legs before he slaps between them, a hard hand grasping your cunt from behind. He squeezes and you yelp in pain. A strong arm is pinned across the back of your shoulders to keep you in place.

Then he squeezes your clit. At this angle, it's caught between two fingers while his thumb shoves against your entrance. It stings, the pressure, but it's worse when he takes his touch away. "If I'm a freak, you're the pathetic slut who wants to get fucked. God, you can't help it, can you? Getting this wet for me?" You can hear him inhale deeply, and the wet noises of him licking your taste off his fingers. You struggle slightly against his firm hold, but it's half-hearted. More than anything, you just want him to touch you again. "God, you taste so good. You ready to take me like the little fuck toy you are?"

"No," you lie, again and again. "Billy, don't you dare-!"

With knees bent, he pushes down his grey joggers and pulls his cock free, and slides between your thighs from behind. "No one's gonna treat you like this."

"You're a fucking monster!" Leaning forward, you press your forehead against the wall. You clamp your legs shut and trap his cock between them, and he responds by shoving you harder against the wall.

"And you're a cunt. My cunt, every dripping inch of it. Spread your legs."

"Make me."

Billy twists the arm on your back to grab your hair instead. The pull on it hurts, makes your spine arch uncomfortably, and a needy whimper escapes you. Fuck. He doesn't need to know how good he's making you feel.

"That's all you ever want, isn't it?" he whispers against your ear. "Me to take away every last bit of your control until you're nothing but a fuck toy for me."

Having your head pulled back this far makes it hard to speak. Between your thighs, his cock can't move, and you can tell how irritated it's making him. "I don't want anything from you."

"Open your mouth."

Your lip curls. Even with your hair wrapped around his hand, you manage to shake your head. Insolence isn't kindly received, and so rough hands suddenly straighten you up and flip you so your back is against the wall again. His hand goes back to your face and he presses against your cheeks until it hurts so bad you can't do anything but open your jaw. Without hesistating, Billy spits into it, heavy eyes watching your mouth. It makes your knees fucking weak.

You want to whimper. You want to swallow. Every part of him is sacred, and you want to consume him whole. At any other time, you would.

His voice is a murmur. "Swallow."

To let you do it, he lets go of your jaw, but his touch does not stray far. It finds its place on your throat, hoping to feel you obey him. Instead, you spit his taste out onto the floor. He doesn't like that.

"You stupid bitch." Suddenly, his fingers are buried back against your cunt and he rubs cruel and wide circles around your clit, fingers digging into soft and swollen flesh.

So, you grab his flushed balls and squeeze and he yelps in surprise, in pain. The hand at your throat shoves your head against the wall. The other leaves your heated core and shoves down your trouers and underwear until theyre at your ankles. Whether you would allow him or not, he takes them off completely, and as he bends down to do so, you wonder if he'll kiss your cunt.

Billy looks at it with longing in his eyes, but then he glances up at your face and the softness is gone. "Don't even need me to spit on you here, do you? You're so wet already."

"Nothing to do with you," you lie again.

"You need me."

"I'd rather die."

With more strength than seems possible, he looms over you and hooks his arm under one thigh. It makes you reach up onto your toe desperately, and then his blunt head is pressing against you. He holds it there for a moment, a threat, a promise. "Say you need me."

You squrim away from him half-heartedly. It makes you sick to your stomach that he's right. "I hate you!"

"Say it!"

One hand grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks. The other claws at the small of his back in an attempt to pull him closer. And then he does. The intrusion hurts in the best way. Your mouth opens in a silent scream, your throat refusing to let the noise escape.

And then he moves.

Billy is relentless in his pace, slamming into you over and over again. He doesn't give you time to adjust, time to relax, he just takes and takes and takes.

"Mine," he grunts, voice shaking.

"No," you choke.

"Yes."

"Fucking bastard!"

Billy kisses your mouth messily before you have a chance to turn away. It's sloppy, wet, desperate. His tongue presses roughly past your teeth and it makes your stomach tighten. But still, you turn your face away to deny him, so he covers your cheek and neck in hot kisses instead.

"Mine," he grunts again against your ear.

"Not anymore."

He returns his hand to your cunt again and as he keeps a steady and fast pace that makes sweat break out on his brow, he rubs you fiercely. It makes your hands clench into fists.

"I'll keep you forever," he promises. His words are punctuated with rough thrusts. "I own you."

Words are so beyond you now. He's rough, he's possessive, and he's fucking right. You fling an arm around the back of his neck and hold him close as he fucks you like it's the first time, the last time. His pace gets faster, more erratic, and then the tell-tale gasps begin to come.

"Don't you dare!" you cry out.

"With me," he answers breathlessly.

"Make me!"

You feel him nod as you hold him close. He licks your ear, making your heart rush in your cunt, and he moans for you just as you like. It drives you higher along with his hand, and then there it is, that pressure in your stomach, the tension between your thighs that pushes you higher.

"Shit, shit, Billy, yes, yes-!"

"With me," he begs. "Cum with me, baby."

"No!" Yes. Yes, cum with him, please, please, please-

"That's it, ah-! Fuck, like that, baby, keep-! Fuck, I'm-!"

Billy's hips stutter and he shoves them against yours as his thights tremble. His orgasm forces him to his toes, and his hand shakes against your clit. It washes over him again and again, and as the last of his seed spurts inside you, you follow him into oblivion. This time, your scream is not silent.

Against the wall, he holds you safely. Your heartbeats are matched as your chests press together, only thin layers of cotton separating your skin there. Your breathing is in time with his, too. In, out. In, out.

He kisses your neck. It makes you squirm. "Let me go."

Carefully, he pulls out of you and sets your leg down. Smiling softly at you, he kisses your forehead. Already you can feel his seed trickling out of you, and it turns your stomach. You can't be here a second longer. It's fine, you can shower later, get his stench of you.

You'll never be free of it.

"I need you," he murmurs as you pull your underwear and trousers back on. Now, his touches are soft and searching, petting your hair. You slap his hand away. He frowns. "I'll never leave you, you know?"

"I know." You might escape his presence, but he has taken root in your heart, for good or evil. "But it's done."

His trousers are back over his hips, and as he ties the string, he looks up at you with wide eyes. "What?"

"I'm done with you, Billy. I know you love me, every inch of my soul, but it's not enough anymore."

Large hands grasp yours. He winds his fingers through yours, and you let him. "You're my one true love. You can't go."

"You can't stop me."

And then his face darkens. Your lips part, and slowly, his eyes open, he kisses you on your open mouth. Pulling away, he smiles slightly and it doesn't spread kindly across his face. "I can."

"What're you gonna do, Billy? Tie me to the fucking bed?"

His hands return to the laces of his trousers, and as if he's not even thinking about it, he undoes them and begins pulling them through the waistband. Your stomach drops. And he takes your wrist, and kisses it. "If that's what it takes. I'll keep you forever. I own you."

[marmladejam]

can you write about Nulla getting a mohak? i was literally dreaming of it the other day  😭 

tysm <3

NULLA WITH A MOHAWK!?!??😳 YOU WERE DREAMING ABOUT NULLA WITH A MOHAWK??...😥 eh sure. I'm not an expert when it comes to literature so don't judge 🫵

I wasn't sure how to write this since in the actual game he kind of controls what you do and what you don't...😓 So this might not be as accurate compared to the lore of the game. 😁👍

Teheheheh I liked this one a bit much,🤫 sorry it's a bit rushed but nice idea 👌🤌🫶

Damn but poor Nulla though- 💔

-+-

"Uhhh, cariño...?" Nulla's voice echoed in your head, you open your eyes groggily, you might not be fully awake, but you can tell his voice was quiet while his tone was laced with some sort of nervousness. It was peculiar since most of the time he was pretty flirty towards you, or just super nice. Your vision takes a moment to adjust to the light of the room, somehow it was brighter than you think, though you ignore that for now as you look up at Nulla, your eyes widen in surprisement.

There he is, he almost looks normal, though his hair isn't slicked back like everyday. It's messy, some strands falling over his face while the rest was tucked behind his ear, you can tell it wasn't neat and probably rushed, despite this, you can't help but think he looks pretty cute with his hair down. He diverts his attention to the floor, looking away from you instantly after seeing you open your eyes, he grits his teeth, he obviously wants to say something, though he doesn't, he just stands there sheepishly.

There is a short pause between you two, the silence seemed to be carrying a thick tension, or maybe just a moment of embarrassing quietness. You sit up, despite feeling utterly tired, you had to reassure him, and you take a deep guess saying it was his to do with his hair.

"Bad hair day?"

You ask, tilting your head to the side, you could almost guess the answer by the look he was giving you, but he straightens his back, clearing his throat.

"Ahem- do you think you can uh....help me?" He asks hesitantly, you assume that he is trying to be confident, which was kind of working, though he was failing a bit. You nod your head quickly, you had to make him feel better about himself rather than bring his mood down.

"Yeah, I could help!"

You shrugged your shoulders, he smiles enthusiastically, a smile spreading from ear to ear as a way of thank you

-+-

"I'm assuming you know how to deal with hair, cariño?" You two were now in the living room, he was sat in a chair while you were standing behind him, a hand on his head while you yawned, you felt extremely tired for a reason but you responded to his question with no sign of hesitation, not that you were too focused on his question, the answer seemed to come out instantly without even needing to think about it

"Yep, don't worry about it."

You mutter, your eyes divert to the table, upon it, there is lots of stuff on the table, hairbrush, hair gel and a toothbrush? Most of them had nothing to do with his hair...but you don't give attention to them too much, reaching for the brush.

You do the basics, de-tangling his hair then brushing his hair back and adding the gel, you do the first half of his head not noticing that you had another half you hadn't completed.

Oh.

It's fine. You put the gel down, picking the brush back up, you yawn again while brushing his hair, it seems to make....a weird buzzing sounds until you hear a loud shriek coming from Nulla.

"Y/N!? WHAT'S THAT SOUND....?"

You look down at his head, noticing that half of his hair is gone....well in other words, shaved off. Your eyes widen as you look at the clipper in your hands. What? But you swear it was a brush a second ago....does this link to your tiredness.

"Y/N!?"

He calls again, you step back nervously, trying to say something but the words get stuck in your throat, not finding it's way to your mouth.

He turns around, a horrified expression plastering his face as he puts a hand to his head, looking at the hair clipper in your hand .

"IS THAT MY HAIR CLIPPER--?"

He looks back at the table, picking up a mirror and looking at his head. "AAAAAAAAAAGHHH-!!!"

He shouts, grabbing the hair that fell onto his shoulders.

"MY HAIRRR-!!"

Your eyes divert around you, trying to find something that would help, you gasp quickly, a useful thought crashing into your head, you grab the mirror in his hands putting it back on the table where is was left discarded with the many objects and hairbrush.

"H-hold on a minute! I know what I can do!"

"WAIT WHAT ARE YOU DOING- AGHHHH---!!"

BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

-+-

"So- how did you manage to shave his head without realising the clipper was on?"

Septem asks, he has an irritated look on his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with frustration building inside of him, you can tell he couldn't be bothered to be called here to deal with 'Nulla's hair'

"How do you even turn the clipper on 'unconsciously' in the first place-!?" He asks, his voice getting sightly louder which causes you to flinch, you look away sheepishly moving your attention to the floor as you tried to answer his question. He watches you squirm under his unsettling gaze.

You and Nulla go to the hotel after he had a full on tantrum about his hair, you suggested you two going since Fames or anyone there would have any advice, and here you were, unfortunately, Septem also happened to be there at the time, finding out first wasnt easy.... and he looked displeased by your actions,

"I- I don't know." You mutter, your tone carried a hint of shame, yet you can't help but feel a bit of pride since you had given Nulla a whole new look.

"You don't know?" He repeats with a scoff, almost in disbelief, he takes a step closer, he already looks threatening enough, you narrow your eyes at him, silently praying he wouldn't kill you yet.

"You don't kn--"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAHGHG- MY HAIR, MY LOVELY HAIR--!!!"

You hear Nulla shrieking from inside the kitchen, your eyes widen in surprise as Septem shoots you a discomforting gaze, his eyes seem to pierce through your soul, making you regret even more what you had created, you knew that Septem and Nulla shared hatred, but now? It seemed that Septem was silently telling you that he was on Nulla's side for this one.

Whoops..

-+-

[purpleajisai]

Drop your Madara headcannons 🧠 💣

Hi! This is going to be quite a long list. Didn't add every single hc because I'm planning on writing a little fanfic and don't want to spoil some details to you hehe. Anyways, hope you enjoy! Some of these are very oddly specific, this man occupies at least half my brain if not more.

🔥 misc!

* He drinks his tea boiling hot. Burning your tongue? Never heard of it

* Is actually good at cooking and makes the most out of any ingredient available. Growing up in war, he knows how to make meals out of anything.

* Has a pillow to cuddle in bed! The dude is lonely.

* Very elegant and expensive hanko to stamp his documents. A clan leader needs to be fancy sometimes!

* Neat freak. Never has his house messy or his clothes out of place. Even his hair strands are calculated.

* Is actually able to mend/sew his clothes very well if some stitches are damaged during training.

* Sleeps a maximum of 6 hours a day, minimum of 30 minutes. The amount of sleep he gets is like playing a roulette (ever seen the eyebags? yeah)

* Speaking about the eyebags. His eyebags are both sunken and protruding (based on my personal experience of being sleep deprived+stressed) the lower eyelid pops out a little and the dark circles extend more.

* The man is physically unable to go out in social settings during the day. Only has social battery for the night. If he has to do some sort of diplomatic celebration with other clan leaders or kage during the day, he’ll leave the talking to someone better at social gatherings like Hashirama. 

* Has houseplants both for decoration and for cooking. We’re talking pretty succulents and mint plants or peach trees.

* The type of guy to wake up and immediately jump out of bed. Things have to be done everyday and he doesn’t trust people to do things the way he likes. 

🎀 appearance!

* Shaves to perfection every single morning, no excuses. Takes a little razor to missions, hates the feeling of facial hair growing. Trims his eyebrows as well. The Sharingan needs a pretty frame, right?

* The gloves have 2 purposes: protecting his hands from getting calluses or any form of damage due to the metal handle of the gunbai, kusarigama, etc and to hide burn scars (courtesy of @madaraservingcunt go follow her!)

* Continuing with the gloves, they’re made out of leather or thick cotton. Maybe has several sets of them for different activities.

* Smells like a mix of wood (cedar or pine), soot/ash, aloe and maybe lavender or wild daisy.

* Skincare and haircare? He’s VERY serious about these. Aloe vera facial masks for soothing the itchiness of constant katonjutsu, washes face with caution, rice water to keep his hair shiny, protective hairstyles to not damage the long hair strands, bamboo hairbrush to retain the natural oils, etc.

* Either has thick straight hair or textured and slightly wavy hair, definitely cut in layers. The wavy hair would make more sense as it poofs up when dry but looks rather straight when wet, taking into account the scenes of the battle in the Valley of the End (thank you Indra for the wavy hair and gorgeous mane genetics). Definitely loves his hair, fav part about himself.

* The bandages above his ankles are to keep the pants in place because his calves are thin and not very muscular, a small insecurity when he was a teen.

* Speaking of the terrible teens, he got grumpy whenever he got a breakout, zit, etc.

* Has mixed/dry, sensible skin. Dealt with painful and itchy sores due to lack of skin hydration while in war.

* Is a bit ashamed of his height and body proportions (i.e. wishing he was taller, less lean and more bulky, broader shoulders). These were regular nuisances during his teens but he eventually controlled the insecurities in adulthood, not managing to make them disappear completely nonetheless.

🍡 food!

* The databooks say that his fav food is inarizushi, so I've added that he likes similar things: onigiri, temaki, nigirizushi, tamagoyaki or even gyoza.

* Eats with little pleasure, only to fuel his body or whatever. That changes when Konoha is founded and he can actually enjoy and taste his meals.

* Dislikes greasy foods. Not a fan of ramen or katsudon, gyoza has to be boiled and would never eat tempura or ebi furai.

* Has a sweet tooth. We're talking dango, wagashi, dorayaki and more. However, only Izuna knew about this. Can't have a clan leader that eats candy like a little child.

* Prefers his sake cold and drinks mostly umeshu in informal gatherings.

* Actually likes fruit. I have no reason for believing this but he has the face of a man who likes fresh fruit. Fav fruit is persimmons or apples.

* Was malnourished as a child, giving away his food to his brothers or clansmen. Eventually took a toll on his muscle growth and height.

* Eats very light breakfast (maybe tea and some rice with nori or miso soup with wakame), heavy lunch (meat or fish, rice, more tea and other side dishes), no dinner.

* Favourite tea is jasmine or pu'erh, mostly drinks green tea and actually enjoys a good ceremonial matcha.

Thanks for the fun ask! I legit have a google docs of 4 pages full of hcs 😭 please send more asks about him I need to dump my brainrot

[care-puppy]

Regressor y/n and caregiver Jeremy? Maybe like Jeremy helping y/n with some self care and dressing them nice !

Sorry if it was short TwT

Mourning Routine

(Cg!Jeremy x Little!Reader)

"Stay still, little princet…" Jeremy told you, as he put you on a stool. You look at the mirror, tilting your head in curiosity. Your hair for sure was quite messy at the moment… Jeremy softly stroked your hair, holding a hairbrush in other hand. "Princesses and princes need to have tidy hair…" He caressed a strand of your hair. "Yours is very pretty, but it needs to be taken care of…" Jeremy took his humanoid form, since in his normal version is too big. He fixed his black cloak, then started brushing your hair. He did it very gently, to not pull any tangles. You swayed your legs back and forth, babbling some silly songs to yourself, hugging your fuzzy blanket. Jeremy smiled softly, continuing to brush your hair. Once your hair was smooth enough and without tangles, he switched hairbrush to comb. You were very relaxed as Jeremy was giving you mini spa. He could usually break someone's skull if they wanted to hug him, but you were an ecxeption. You were his little princet he loved very much. The cube took a can of hair conditioner and then sprayed your hair. Your head was covered in aromatic mist, which tickled your nose and made you sneeze. Jeremy chuckled. "Bless you…"

"Now, my princet, which one would you like?" Jeremy showed yoy two onesies. They were both in a vintage style, one was white with a powder pink ribbon, other one was the same but with swapped colors. You tilted your head, thinking. Then you chose the one you liked the most. "Now stay there, sweetie…" Jeremy slowly putted off your nightgown, then putted on the onesie. Then he buttoned the onesie up, and playfully booped your nose, making you giggle. "Wait, there is something else…" he whispered, and showed you an adorable little bonnet. You squeak with excitement. "I wan dis! I wan dis, pwease!" you babble. Jeremy putted on the bonnet, tied the ribbon under it. After helping you put on socks, he letted you look at the mirror. You twirled and clapped your hands in approbate. You looked like a lovely little doll. Jeremy had a nice fashion taste. "You look very pretty, my princet…" The cube leaned down and kissed your forehead.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Braids: Chapter 1

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rating: Teen Genre: Family Characters: Michael Yew, Apollo Cabin Five times Michael braided a sibling's hair, and one time a sibling braided his. It was pointed out to me that I don't give Michael much by way of fluff, so to prove I can write fluff, here is some Michael&siblings, well, fluff. I've also wanted to write a 5+1 format fic for years but could never come up with a concept that fit - until now! Also you guys get to see some of my Apollo kid ocs again, and also a few for the first time! I have a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi! Character ages in this chapter: Michael - 10 Ceri - 17

1) Ceri

“Michael, can you give me a hand?”

Michael jerked his head up from where he was sorting out straight shafts from bent shafts.  The arrow that had been spinning on the palm of his hand toppled as it ran out of momentum and he fumbled the catch, almost dropping it onto the floor.

“Huh?” he asked, setting the shaft down in the fucking bent pile – much larger than the straight pile.  “With what?”  He twisted around to face the older Apollo kid that had walked up behind him and baulked at the sight of a fucking hairbrush in her hands.

“Can I sit?” Ceri asked him, gesturing at the floor next to him.  It was strewn with shafts that Michael still needed to check, and with a grumble he nudged a few out of the way until there was room for her.

“Whatever,” he muttered.  “What do you want?”

Ceri settled cross-legged on the floor next to him and held out her hairbrush.  “Do my hair?”

Michael stared at her.  “You can do your own fucking hair,” he said.  He knew she could – her hair was long but he’d seen her twist it up into a messy bun in the blink of an eye when she got called to the infirmary.  “You don’t need me to do it.”

She gave him a soft smile.  The hairbrush didn’t move from in front of his face.  “No,” she admitted, “but I’d like you to.”

“Why?” he snapped, wondering why the fuck she’d want him to do her hair – why anyone would want anyone else to do their fucking hair.  Did she want half her hair torn out of her head?  Now that he thought about it, he’d seen Baird and Emily and several other Apollo kids perched on Ceri’s bed with her before, doing something with her hair.

Ceri’s hair was a really pretty red that fell in waves most of the way down her back.  Michael couldn’t understand why the fuck she’d risk it like that.

“Just because I can do it myself doesn’t mean it’s not easier if someone else does it,” she told him.  “And I like it when other people do my hair.  So… please, Michael?”

She sounded earnest, like she actually did, for some fucking reason, want Michael to do her hair.  She looked it, too, light green eyes fixed on his as she tilted her head fractionally to one side and gave him another soft smile.

Michael didn’t get it.  It didn’t make sense.

But Ceri was asking, and the fucking hairbrush was still in front of his face, unwavering, and part of Michael’s chest felt warm that she was asking him.  That she was trusting him not to fuck her hair up.

“Fine,” he huffed, snatching the brush from her fingers.  She let him take it easily, her hand falling down to her lap, and then swivelled on her butt until her back was facing him, complete with the mass of red spilling down it.  Michael shifted so that he was facing her back and not the strewn shards on the floor and raised the brush, before pausing.  “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

She didn’t laugh at him, which was a good thing because if she had, Michael would’ve thrown her hairbrush somewhere, likely out the fucking window, and then run off into the woods with the intention of never coming back.  (Baird, or Lee, damn them, would probably find him and coax him back because they were getting good at that, to Michael’s frustration.)

“Start by just brushing it,” Ceri said.  “It’s the same as brushing your own hair.  Don’t worry if it tugs a bit.”

Michael still felt unsure, but reached forwards with the brush until the bristles were touching Ceri’s hair, then pulled down.  Immediately, it caught, jerking Ceri’s head back, and Michael instantly dropped the brush.  It stayed where it was, snagged in red hair.  “Fuck.”  He scrambled back, but Ceri reached behind her and snagged his wrist.

“It’s fine,” she assured him, lightly tugging him back.  Tentatively, Michael settled back down again, and watched as she extracted the brush from her hair.  “Try again.”  She handed it back to him.  “My hair is quite thick so it might be easier if you do it in sections, like this.”  With deft fingers, she grabbed a small part of her hair and lifted it away from the rest, offering it to him.  “Hold it with one hand, and brush with the other.”

Not quite believing that Ceri was letting him continue – wanted him to continue – Michael cautiously did as he was told.  The brush still wanted to get stuck, but it was easier to stop it from actually getting stuck, and if he was hurting Ceri when it snagged, she didn’t show any signs of it.  Eventually, he figured out that it was easier if he gripped the sections at the top and brushed underneath where he was holding it.  Ceri’s head stopped jerking around when he did that, even when he tugged quite strongly on snags.

There was something satisfying when he passed the brush through her hair and it didn’t snag on anything, all the bristles running through smoothly with no resistance at all.  It was especially satisfying when he finished doing all the different sections and could run the brush smoothly through the entire bulk of Ceri’s locks.

He let himself brush all of it a few times, before stopping.  “Done.”

Ceri didn’t accept the brush when he tried to give it back to her.

“Can you plait it?” she asked him instead, and Michael frowned, confused.

“Plait?”

Now she let out a small laugh, light and airy.  Michael scowled, crossing his arms.  “Sorry,” she said, “I forget Americans don’t call it that.  I meant braid.”  He huffed – he still hadn’t worked out what Ceri’s accent was – and shook his head.

“Why the fuck would I know how to braid hair?” he asked.

“Do you want to know?” she countered, peeking back at him over her shoulder.  “You might find it useful.”

“Huh?”

She gestured at his own hair.  “You’re growing it out, aren’t you?  Plaits – sorry, braids – are useful for keeping long hair out of the way.”

Michael chewed the inside of his cheek.  She had a point, he supposed.  “Fine,” he said, and she turned her head back around so that he was once again just facing the waterfall of red hair.

“I’ll talk you through it,” she promised.  “They’re easier than they look.  Split my hair into three sections.  The more evenly sized, the better.”

Michael reached out and grabbed a handful of her hair, and then another handful with his other hand, leaving a bunch free in between.  Despite being brushed out, the hair still clung to each other, making his three sections messy.  He scowled at them and dropped one side to tidy up the other, which worked fine until he realised that to do the other two sections, he had to let go of the one he’d just done, which would make the neat one messy again.

Ceri came to his rescue.  “Here,” she said, “I’ll hold this one while you sort the others out.”  Michael gladly let her take the neat section, although he was sure people didn’t normally need to do that.  “You’ll find separating the hair out easier with practice,” she assured him as he pulled the rest of her hair into two sections, running his fingers through the strands until they looked neat.  She offered him the third section back again, and after a moment, Michael dropped the middle section to take it.

“Now what?” he asked.

“Move one of the outside sections until it crosses over the middle one to become the new middle one,” Ceri instructed, and Michael did so, scowling in concentration as he had to drop one section and pick up another one, and they tried to tangle together again.

This did not seem fucking easy.

“And?” he prompted once he had the two sections somewhat behaving themselves.

“Do the same with the outside section on the other side,” she told him.  Michael obeyed, finding it no easier to keep the two sections from trying to merge together.  “Then take the outside on the other side again and do the same thing.”

Michael figured out the pattern after a few more passes, although that still didn’t make keeping the hair in its different sections any easier.  It seemed determined to mingle back together again, and more than once, Michael realised too late that he hadn’t managed to restore them properly.  Ceri didn’t tell him to stop or redo anything, though, so he carried on, frowning at the mess he was creating.

If he squinted, it probably did look like a braid, but it looked bad.

“Now you tie it off,” Ceri said, as though she didn’t realise her hair was a mess.  “Here.”  She handed him a hair tie.

Michael hesitated.  “It’s fucking awful,” he admitted, because it was behind her, of course she didn’t realise.  She couldn’t fucking see it.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Ceri told him.

“It’s not-”

“And you worked hard on it,” she continued, ignoring his correction, “and that’s more important, so tie it off, Michael.”

“Not that fucking hard,” Michael muttered (lied), but took the hair tie and looped it around the end a few times.  He knew how to do that much, at least, and when Ceri actually looked in a mirror and realised how fucking awful it was, she could take it out and redo it.

Ceri ignored his words as she stood up again, the tangled mess of a braid swaying with her movement.  “Thank you, Michael,” she said, smiling widely at him.  “I’ve got an infirmary shift, now, so I’ll let you get back to your shafts.”

He shrugged.  “You’re welcome, I guess,” he said, and picked up another shaft to spin on his palm.  Still, he couldn’t help watching Ceri out of the corner of his eye as she left the cabin, not even checking her hair in the mirror before she went out.  He wasn’t stupid; he knew she’d fix it soon, and while he knew it was a mess and deserved to be fixed, the thought still made him a little sad.

Michael spun the next shaft super-hard, ignoring the feeling of the point trying to bore into his palm.  He was just being stupid.

The next time he saw Ceri, several hours later when they were getting ready for dinner, he stared, feeling that something warm in his chest again.

She was still wearing his braid.

Chapter 2>>>

[gunilslaugh]

Hello! Same anon who requested Jun han with a fitness model! I loved it a lot!

I was wondering if I could request some headcanons (maybe with a small scenario aswell) with Jun han where the reader is kinda this super underground singer who really doesn't take care of themselves. Like kinda grungy, big eye bags, messy unkept hair, partakes in some activities that do not need to be disclosed but Jun han understands what's going on?

And reader has a huge crush on Jun han and is trying to get in order so that Jun han can like them back? Reader is also like, super mean to everyone but soooo sweet to Jun han :))

Sorry if this is long😭 I'm just so in love with this man

Thank you!

Hello. I'm glad you loved your other request I hope you love this one too :)

Han Hyeongjun

Summary: You’re an underground singer with a lot of bad habits, but Hyeongjun still sticks around despite all your flaws.

WC:~1.4k

Warning:grammar, one cuss word

photo not mine credits to owner.

The bright light seeping into your room through your curtains only made your head pound harder. Suddenly you felt bile burn its way up your throat. You quickly ran into your bathroom. Mid puke you felt gentle hands gathering your hair to hold it away from your face. Then you felt a gentle rubbing on your back. 

You know that it’s Hyeongjun and it kind of makes you feel worse. He always sees you in your worst state, yet for some reason he never leaves. Even though he knows all of the bad things you do. You no where near deserve him, but you can’t lie and say that you don’t have feelings for him. He took care of you, cared for you. Even though you don’t necessarily care about yourself. Anyone who looked at you could tell that. Your unkempt hair, dark eyebags, untidy clothes. You looked very grunge in a non-aesthetic way. 

You slumped against the bathroom floor after emptying whatever contents were in your stomach. Hyeongjun wipes your mouth with a tissue and discards it into the trash before helping you up. He guides you over to your small couch, sitting you down. He then goes to your kitchen getting you a bottle of water and pain relievers. He comes back over to where you sat and gives them to you. 

“I didn’t do anything too stupid last night did I?” you asked after taking the two small pills. You remember hardly anything about last night after you finished your set at a bar. Hyeongjun shook his head, taking a seat next to you. 

“Just called me drunk, so I picked you up.” That’s good. You were no stranger to starting a bar fight or two, so at least you only made one mistake that night. You should be better, you want to be better. Be a person that deserves Hyeongjun. It’s just that everytime you tried you always ended up falling right back into your bad habits. That saying really is true, old habits do die hard. You felt pathetic and sick of yourself. You really did need to change. Maybe you should start with finding your hairbrush. 

“Didn’t really expect you to show up today,” your co-worker at your part time job tells you. You turned towards them to give them a look. “You don’t remember last night at all, do you?” he asked. 

“Not really,” you mized, going back to stalking items on the shelf. 

“Let’s just say you were pretty gone. Not surprised you don’t remember running into me,” he continues to talk to you. 

“Look, can you just do your job? My head hurts,” you bite. He raises his hands in defense and walks away from you. You continued working until your shift ended. 

Once you got back from work you actually cleaned your apartment. For the first time in you don’t know how long. You discovered that your little laundry did have a floor hiding beneath all the layers of discarded clothing. The dirty clothes now sit in the designated basket that you’ll get to another day. Baby steps, you tell yourself. 

Later that evening you headed out to do some busking. A nice way of making a few extra dollars. 

“Hey y/n.” One of your busking…acquaintances (you weren’t really one for friends. Other than Hyeongjun) came up to you as you were putting away your things. 

“Hey,” you meekly replied. 

“Me and some others are gonna go have some fun. You wanna come?” She invited you. Yes you want to, but you know you shouldn’t. It won’t end well. Your life will continue to be pathetic if you go. A life where you don’t deserve Hyeongjun.

“No, I’ll pass,” you say. 

“Oh come on! Let’s let loose tonight,” she tests you.

“You let loose every night,” you scoffed. 

“I don’t know why I try to be nice to you. You really are just a bitch.” With that she walks away. You gathered your things and went home. It felt weird, you were never home this early. You were usually out doing things you know you shouldn’t be into late hours of the night or early morning. 

You sat on your couch bored. What did normal people do at this time of night? It wasn’t even 9:30 yet. Going out for a little bit couldn’t hurt right? You stood up about to head for your door. No, don’t do it. You know how it’ll end. You kept standing up and sitting down, battling yourself. Maybe you should just go to bed. 

You can’t sleep. You're not used to sleeping this early. Tossing and turning from one side to another. Pulling the blanket up higher, throwing it off you. Having it half on half off. Then your phone lights up. You picked it up, it was text. “Heard you were staying in tonight?” it read. “Piss off” you responded. Before putting your phone back you found yourself calling Hyeongjun. 

“Hello.” He picked up right away. 

“..Hey,” you said. This felt a little weird. You don’t really remember the last time you called him sober. 

“Are you ok?” Of course that’s the first question he asks. You don’t really know how to answer.

“Uh- yeah. I’m actually home right now,” you tell him. Hyeongjun was admittedly surprised to hear that. “Can you come over? I know it’s late, but…” You don’t trust yourself, but if Hyeongjun is with you then you know you won’t do anything bad. 

“I’ll be right over,” he says. 

He meant right over, no more than fifteen minutes you were letting Hyeongjun inside of your apartment. 

“You cleaned,” he noted.

“Yeah. My laundry room has a floor,” you chuckled. The two of you walked over to your little couch. You anxiously picked at your nails with shaky hands. Hyeongjun quickly notices and places his warm, gentle ones over your own.

“Are you ok y/n?” The caring look in his eyes makes you break.

“Why do you care?” Tears glazed over your eyes. 

“What?” He holds your hands tighter. 

“Why are you still here? Why do you stay? How come you haven’t left me? I’m a terrible person Hyeongjun,” you sobbed. “I have way too many bad habits. You know all the things I do. All the things I’ve done. I’m mean to everyone who’s not you. I’m really pathetic and I want to change. I want to be a better person, but it’s hard. It’s so tempting to just go back to how I originally am. I can’t even trust myself to stay in for one night!” You shouted, but it was at yourself. You’re so angry with yourself for letting you get to such a low point. Hyeongjun hugs you. One of his hands cradles your head and the other rubs your back. Just as gently as he did this morning.

“It’s ok. You’ll be ok. I’m right here,” he soothes you. Your hands clutched his shirt so tightly like you were scared he would disappear.

“Why?” Now your voice was no higher than a whisper. 

“Because I love you.” He said it so easily. You made a confused sound, thinking you must’ve heard wrong. “I love you y/n,” he repeated.

“I don’t deserve it,” you voiced pulling away. “I want to deserve it. I want to be a person who deserves your love, but I know right now I’m not.” You looked down at your lap. Hyeongjun once again grabs your hands. You look up at him.

“That’s for me to decide. I get to decide who I love, who deserves my love and I love you.” You want to confess your love for him back, but at the same time you don’t feel like you’re a good enough person to. You’ll wait until you're good enough. 

“Thank you.” Is how you respond. Hyeongjun hugs you again.

It took a very long time for you to clean up your act. There were triumphs and setbacks, but you did it. Sometimes you still had thoughts about going back to your old bad habits, but now you were strong enough to not listen to them. Hyeongjun stayed by your side the entire time. Now you have no problem saying.

“Hyeongjun I love you.” 

“I love you too y/n.” He has no problem saying it either, not like he ever did, but now you feel like you deserve it. You became a person who was good enough for Hyeongjun. Although he thought you were good enough the entire time. He never saw you as your flaws, he only saw you as you.

[androidcharles]

Deafeating the Androids (Act 2) Chapter 2

Two people suddenly go missing and that causes a bit of concern for the Toppats and Triple Threat. Especailly since Beatrice still hasn't said a word about Project SAI's newest location

TW for some torture.

It was a week later when things were finally set into motion once again.

Charles rose up from his slumber, feeling the static on the edge of his vision as he stretched before tossing his legs over the bed, going over his usual morning routine before heading into the kitchen to notice that Henry and Ellie weren’t in the kitchen. He glanced at the clock and saw the time was nine AM. Even this was early by his standards.

So what was going on?

He headed to Henry’s bedroom and noticed that he wasn’t even in bed (even Henry had a bad habit of sleeping in) and Ellie wasn’t present either (she was the only morning person among them).

Finally he headed into the office and saw Henry and Ellie with nervous looks on their faces, sitting at the table as they glanced up to see Charles.

“You’re awake,” Ellie said.

“Yeah, if you guys needed me to wake up, you could blown up my notifications in the chat room. I’m pretty sure that would have keyed me in that something was wrong, you know. What is wrong, anyway?” Charles asked. Ellie let out a small sigh as she tapped her fingers on the table as Henry looked down with a bit of guilt. There was a bit of silence before Ellie looked up at him.

“Dave has gone missing.”

Charles felt a cold chill go down his artificial spine as he sat down at the table with them. It was only yesterday that he had spoken to Dave at band practice, telling him he would see him tomorrow if he wanted to hang out. His smile was so cheerful, so happy…

What the heck happened between then and now to cause something like this to happen?

“I can’t believe it… I saw him yesterday, he was-”

“I know Charles, it’s OK,” Ellie said, “I know how much this hurts… but we can’t sit here and panic. We’re gonna head to his apartment and see if we can find any clues that might key in where he’s gone.”

Charles nodded his head slowly as Henry stood up, patting his shoulder in reassurance. Just as they were about to head off, Beatrice opened her eyes, sitting up from her position on the couch.

“Ms. Ellie, can I borrow your hairbrush again? Ugh, my hair is so messy… it’s gonna take forever for it to look nice and neat again,” Beatrice said, running her hands through her messy hair. She looked up to see the three of them hovering over her as her eyes widened.

“Did… did something happen?”

“One of our friends has disappeared,” Ellie said, “Can we trust you to look after the place while we do this?”

“Or are we gonna find you looking through our possessions again?” Charles said, narrowing his eyes.

“You should be lucky I haven’t killed you guys yet! You guys have a lot of knives…” Beatrice said.

WHATEVER. WE’LL BE BACK IN ABOUT AN HOUR. JUST TRY NOT TO BURN THE PLACE DOWN WHILE WE’RE GONE PLEASE, Henry said as he walked out the door.

As soon as the three of them were gone, Beatrice let out a small huff as she glanced to the side.

“It’s super tempting, I’ll tell you that,” Beatrice muttered.

After a few minutes of travel, the three of them were in front of Dave’s apartment as Ellie picked the lock while Henry and Charles stood guard. Eventually she got the door open as they entered his small apartment.

“Dave’s apartment is pretty small, so try to search every room thoroughly,” Ellie said, “Charles you search the bedroom. Henry, you search the bathroom. I’ll check in here.” The three of them got to work as Charles entered the bedroom, already seeing that the window had been forced open and his bedroom was a huge mess. He scanned the area and saw the foot imprints on the window sill along with the blanket hanging halfway out the window. He wondered if the neighbors even knew that he had been kidnapped.

Or if they cared. He gritted his teeth at that thought as he began to search for more clues. He glanced around for more clues as he heard Ellie talking to Henry in the other room. He exited the room to see Henry and Ellie talking to each other about what was going on.

“Maybe we should ask the neighbors…” Ellie said, “But I don’t think we can do that without sounding suspicious.” Henry nodded his head as he gazed at Charles and motioned for him to head back in the living area.

“I can’t believe Dave lives in a place like this. Henry, we might have to consider having him move. Maybe we can convince him to join our PI business?” Ellie asked.

“Maybe…” Henry said softly.

“It wasn’t the Toppats who kidnapped him. Again. It was something else, but I can’t tell what. But he was taken while he was asleep, that’s for sure,” Charles said.

“I hate to see what would happen once Amelia finds out what happened,” Ellie said softly, “Let me take a look in there and see what’s up.” Ellie entered the bedroom as Charles sat on Dave’s worn couch, looking a bit forlorn.

WE’LL FIND HIM, DON’T WORRY, Henry signed at him, trying to look reassuring as Charles let out a small sigh.

“I know, I know, it’s just… I just can’t imagine how scared he is right now,” Charles said, “He’s already been through so much hell. Why does the universe feel the need to crap on him like this?”

“Hey, guys! I might have found a lead!” Ellie shouted from his bedroom. Henry and Charles stood at the doorway as Ellie pulled up a business card and handed it to Charles. He felt static at the edges of his vision as he saw the Project SAI logo on the back. There was no address (of course) but maybe finding out where this business card was printed would be a good start.

- - - - -

The three of them had spent a majority of the day going to every print shop in the entirety of Stickburg and making as many phone calls as possible to try to find any information about where the business card was printed. But to no avail, there wasn’t any luck.

Charles hung up as aggressively as possible on yet another tired employee as he let out a small growl, staring at the wall in anger as Beatrice cowered in fear.

“Bea, if you want to talk, now’s a good time,” Ellie said as she hung up herself.

“I’m not saying anything. Seriously!” Beatrice said, “I don’t know why they kidnapped your friend though. I don’t understand it myself. We’ve been kidnapping children of course, but never adults. I don’t understand what’s going on…”

WELL, IF YOU WANT US TO FIGURE IT OUT, YOU SHOULD AT LEAST SAY SOMETHING, Henry said, AT THIS POINT, YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE A CHOICE. THEY’RE DOING SOMETHING THAT YOU DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND YOURSELF. ARE YOU SURE YOU WANNA KEEP HIDING THIS INFORMATION FROM US?

Beatrice slumped in her seat a bit more, as if trying to disappear, despite that not being able to happen. After all, she wasn’t even capable of doing that at the moment as the three of them stared her down.

“I… I don’t… the scientists probably aren’t even worried about me anyway. I don’t want to say anything because… BECAUSE I HATE PROJECT SAI AS MUCH AS YOU GUYS!” Beatrice shouted. The three of the exchanged glances as Beatrice sighed.

“They make us do menial tasks and they don’t even thank us,” Beatrice said, “I often had to work without limits and when I was practically running on nothing. I would often go to bed having to run my antivirus because they would keep us up for so long. Why do you think I’ve been so reluctant on telling you guys about all this? I don’t want to go back. Especially if you guys are unsuccessful…”

“Bea…” Ellie said softly, walking over to her to rub her back, “You’re telling me that if you don’t tell us the location of these people that we won’t be able to fight them?”

“They’re androids! And the scientists-”

“Are just weak losers we can give wedgies to. We’ve already handled Theodore before and we have an android on our side as well. We can’t exactly say we’ll be prepared, but if these people are treating you like this… we want to help,” Ellie said.

“I didn’t know that they were treating you like that. How about we just arrest the scientists!? The androids don’t need to be destroyed… do they?” Charles asked.

“No, they shouldn’t be. We’ll fight tooth and nail if it means you get to live the life that you want to live,” Ellie said, “And I mean it!”

“You… you really mean it? I can have an ordinary life?” Beatrice asked.

“Mhm! Once we make the arrests, maybe the generals will let you have some freedom. Maybe even grant you a pardon so you can start working with them. Like Charles did!” Ellie said, “Just don’t talk to Amelia.”

“Amelia… she’s the other android, isn’t she? She seems so happy, despite being part of a criminal group,” Beatrice said.

WELL ALL OF THEM REALLY LOVE HER AND SUPPORT HER, Henry said, SO SHE’S HAPPY BECAUSE SHE’S SURROUNDED BY PEOPLE WHO CARE ABOUT HER AND LOVE HER.

Beatrice glanced down at the ground, feeling a wave of disbelief wash over her before she looked up at them.

“Do you guys… care about me?” Beatrice said. The three of them exchanged glances once again, as if they were unsure of what to say.

“I care about you,” Charles said, “I was only hard on you these past few weeks because… I wanted to make sure you didn’t try anything. But I still care about you. And knowing about all this… it must really hurt, huh?”

“I care about you too,” Ellie said, “I don’t think that androids should be treated like this. Especially considering where you guys came from.”

I CARE ABOUT AS YOU WELL. I MEAN YOU’RE A LITTLE ROUGH AROUND THE EDGES BUT IN ALL HONESTY… YOU’RE KINDA LIKE A LITTLE SISTER YOU KNOW, Henry said, smiling thoughtfully at her. Static filled the edges of her vision as she stood up.

“I’m sorry, I have to… go into the living room now,” Beatrice said softly. She headed into the living room as she sat on the couch, contemplating what to do now. These people were being way too nice to her. They cared about her? Why? What benefit would it gain them? Obviously they had nothing to gain from telling her that she was valued.

That she was worth saving. She clenched her fists as she grabbed the TV remote and turned on the TV. At least this would distract her… hopefully.

- - - - -

Amelia sat on her bed, trying to understand why Dave wasn’t answering her messages. She never really messaged him unless she really felt like it. But it bothered her that she had already sent a couple of messages and he still hadn’t answered.

His “I’m busy” message had popped up a bit too much for her liking as she pursed her lips, laying back down on her bed trying to not let it get to her before she heard a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” Amelia asked. The door opened and a Toppat grunt opened the door, smiling at her gently.

“You dad… er the chief wants to speak to you,” he said. Amelia thought that was strange, because if her dad wanted her, he would have messaged her right? She just shrugged as she headed towards the elevator and headed to her dad’s office.

As soon as she entered, both her fathers were sitting near the desk, looks of concern on their face as Amelia closed the door behind her.

“Amelia, this concerns you now more then ever. I was about to schedule another monthly check-up with Dr. V when I was directed to her voice mail. I was a little skeptical, but I left a message letting her know I’d call her back, figuring she was probably busy. I called her a few hours later and it still went to her voice mail. I know how busy she gets, but I would have figured she would have at least called back. So I had a couple of Toppat scouts go to her location and find out what was going on, maybe make an appointment personally, but they ended up finding the office completely empty,” Reginald explained.

“Well… except for this,” the Right Hand Man said, showing her a business card. She looked at it and felt a cold chill down her artificial spine as she saw the Project SAI logo.

“I don’t understand what they want with her… nor do I know their motivations. But something is very wrong and we have to find out where they took her…” Reginald said, “I think you need to contact the Triple Threat and let them know about this dire situation.”

Amelia felt static forming at the edges of her vision. Dave hasn’t been answering her messages, but there couldn’t be a connection, could there?

“I’ll… I’ll talk to Charles about all this,” Amelia said.

“It’s at times like this I’m glad that you managed to befriend him. It’s been awfully helpful,” Reginald said.

“Are you actually starting to care about them?” the Right Hand Man asked as Amelia left the room in a hurry.

“You know, it’s funny. It’s almost as if it’s hard wired in me to be worried about Henry and his ragtag group of friends. Even if they aren’t on our side…” Reginald said. The Right Hand Man looked at Reginald thoughtfully before chuckling.

“Funny… I thought I was the only one who felt that way…” Right said softly.

Meanwhile, Amelia had rushed towards the elevator and hopped on as she headed to her room once again before slamming the door behind her, contacting Charles as fast as possible.

GlitterToppatGirl: Hey, Charles did you know that Dr. V is missing?

xXBold_Action_ManXx: Wait Dr. V is missing too?

GlitterToppatGirl: Wait, Dr. V isn’t the only one who’s missing?

xXBold_Action_ManXx: Yeah, Dave has gone missing too.

Amelia felt even more static filling her vision as she tried to process what Charles had just said. Dave was gone too? What was going on?

GlitterToppatGirl: We have to find him!

xXBold_Action_ManXx: We don’t know where Project SAI is though… I don’t understand why these guys have ordered the androids to kidnap Dave or Dr. V. Bea hasn’t been very cooperative either.

GlitterToppatGirl: Than you’re just gonna have to force the answer out of her! Being nice isn’t going to work anymore.

xXBold_Action_ManXx: If we try to force the answer out of her, we’d just be isolating her. Especially after everything she told us.

GlitterToppatGirl: What do you mean?

xXBold_Action_ManXx: Apparently the scientists in Project SAI have been… mistreating her and the other androids a bit. I don’t think she wants to go back as a result of that. She has this utmost belief that we can’t handle it.

GlitterToppatGirl: You guys have been through hell and back together and she believes you can’t handle Project SAI?

xXBold_Action_ManXx: I don’t know. Henry wants to give her some space for the time being. Maybe he can convince her to give the location away after she has some time to think.

GlitterToppatGirl: Whatever you say. You’d better be right… or I’m gonna follow one of those Project SAI androids and find him myself. Even if it kills me…

xXBold_Action_ManXx: Please don’t put yourself in danger.

GlitterToppatGirl: For his sake, I would.

Amelia sighed as she placed her head into her pillow, feeling like screaming at the moment. Charles, of course, was being as calm as usual, which really grated at her nerves, but she trusted him, so she wasn’t about to make a big deal if Charles wasn’t.

Still, she was worried deeply as she gripped the pillow tightly, feeling a wave of hurt and hatred washing over her. She would just have to wait for Charles to do a bit of investigating.

Meanwhile, back at the apartment, Charles was now a bit more worried as he relayed the news to Ellie and Henry, who had ordered him to stay behind while they investigated, in case he can get any information out of Beatrice.

Beatrice was currently watching a cartoon, obviously trying to keep her mind off of things as Charles sat down at his usual spot in front of the coffee table and watched with her.

“You want me to tell you where Site B is do you?” Beatrice said softly. Charles glanced at her briefly before turning his attention back to the TV.

“I mean, I can’t exactly force the information out of you. But considering the circumstances, there’s only one thing I can say for certain. That you have to consider what’s happening and know that two innocent people… well I’m not sure how innocent Dr. V is, have been kidnapped wrongfully. I don’t know what kind of moral compass you have, but even you have to admit that’s not a good thing…” Charles said.

“I-” Beatrice wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure what to really say. She sighed as she stared off into the distance.

“If I take you… tomorrow… will you promise that we’ll be allowed to live our lives?” Beatrice asked. Charles looked up and gasped as he glanced at her again.

“Of course. I’m gonna do everything in my power to keep you guys safe, no matter what,” Charles said, “I don’t want you guys to be turned into scrap because of some backwards ideals. You guys are much more then just machines. Even if I can’t remember you…”

Beatrice started to shake as she shifted her position onto the ground before pulling Charles into a hug.

“It’s gonna be alright. And don’t worry, we’ll get out of this no problem, alright?” Charles reassured her.

- - - - -

Dave woke up with a start, trying to figure out where he was as he glanced around the room.

Oh no…

Another cell.

He banged against the door, whimpering as he tried to push the door open.

“I wouldn’t bother if I were you.” He jumped at the new voice as he looked around.

“Who?”

“Dr. Vinschpinsilstien. Most people call me Dr. V. Something that… I didn’t really agree on,” she said.

“Where are we?”

“I don’t know,” Dr. Vinschpinsilstien said, “All I know is that I woke up here with this brace on my neck.”

Neck brace? Dave reached up and felt the metal collar around his neck, shaking a bit.

“What’s going on?” Dave asked.

“You humans should consider yourselves lucky. You’ll probably be our most important asset going forward into our new goal.” Dave looked through the small window to see a two figures in front of the cells.

“Theodore?!” Dave said, “I thought you were dead!”

“Why does everyone keep saying that…” Theodore muttered as Daxton shook his head.

“You left him to die, of course. That’s why we revitalized him,” Daxton said, “And now he’s going to help us with Project SAI’s newest plan: eradicating all humans.”

“Wait, what?” Dave said.

“And give us one good reason why we should help you with THAAATAAAAAHAT!!!” Dr. Vinschpinsilstien suddenly shrunk down as the collar started to shock her.

“That is why. Because if you don’t cooperate with us, there’s nothing stopping us from frying you to death. Now we have a long list of things we need you to do and Theodore will be happy to walk you through them. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Daxton turned away and walked off, leaving Theodore with the remote.

He stared, almost blankly at it before he opened the cell, beckoning Dave to come out.

“CJ and Adam are about to head out to find Charles and Amelia. And once they do, you need to do exactly what it says on this piece of paper,” Theodore said.

“What, reprogram them? Like hell I’m gonna do that! I’m sick of being a wimp little weakling and I’m not gonna let you get away with THIIISISSSISISIS!” Dave fell to the floor as he shook, feeling the shock traveling through his spine.

“You have no choice Mr. Panpa. If you want any hope of surviving this situation, I highly suggest following orders. Or else,” Theodore said, “D… Dr. Vinschpinsilstien…”

“What?” Dr. Vinschpinsilstien said, not an ounce of remorse in how terse she sounded.

“I have my own special notes for you as well. Read them carefully,” Theodore said, handing over a sheet of paper to her. She snarled as she unfolded the piece of paper, reading it carefully. Dave started blankly at his own paper and sighed, feeling a bit of hopelessness as he began to read the paper himself.

Suddenly his eyes widened as he read through the paper word for word before staring at Dr. Vinschpinsilstien. She returned the stare, a wave of disbelief in the air.

[realmsthewitch]

Demo of SWM chapter 1

Lana had recently been accepted to Silverwater Monastery, the best school for studying both the arts and the magics. She had prepared an outfit for her first day on her nightstand. The clothes drooped with laziness yearning for the ground but blocked by a backpack which was bursting at the zipper with papers. Lana set her alarm clock for 5:00, hoping to have time to prepare for her introductions.

The next day the clock hummed a popular song. Lana turned off the alarm and went to her closet to get dressed, but she had noticed that she left her blinds open. Lana slowly trotted to the window to close the blinds getting greeted by a beam of light from the sun. Lana realized that she had accidentally set the alarm to 5:00 P.M.

In a panic, Lana dressed in a green hoodie and grey sweatpants, she remembered that she needed to keep track of a key. Instead of neatly tying a ribbon around her waist as usual, she hastily got entangled in ribbon. Lana looked in the mirror and was hit with an untidy, clumsy mess wrapped in string.

Lana darted out the door and ran to the school. A deafening silence flooded the room as the disheveled student opened the door. After a few seconds everything went back to normal with nobody paying attention to Lana.

Lana checked her letter of acceptance which stated which classes she would go to. She went to the rooms marked on the paper one by one. Eventually she found herself in Mr Orgendy’s class: Intro To Runic Spells.

On an unoccupied desk lay a beginner fire rune, a unique tablet which functions as a reference to draw runes. Next to Lana was someone who seemed oddly familiar to her.

“Hello.” the familiar girl said.

“H-hello.” Lana responded

“You look pretty messy, do you want to borrow my hairbrush?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

The girl handed Lana her hairbrush. Lana used her phone camera as a mirror and brushed her hair. She handed the brush back to the girl.

“Sooooooooo… what’s your name?”

“I’m Lana, Lana Redwood.”

The girls eyes widened with an optimistic shock.

“Lana!? O.M.G. it’s me! Marlene!”

“Marlene?! Oh my gosh how’ve you been?”

“I’ve been pretty good, I decided to enroll because my aunt founded the place. It’d be kind of a disservice to my family…”

Lana remembered that Marlene hated the idea of magic.

“So why are you in this class?”

“I’m gonna try and write a paper, just because runes are new doesn’t mean they are any more special then old magic.”

Lana had gotten a conversation. She checked off a task on her bucket list and started focusing on the topic at hand. She took diligent notes in an unintelligible handwriting. Once she had gotten comfortable with the lesson she doodled to pass the time. She drew a sketch of her old cat. Suddenly, she needed to take notes quickly. Her cat would be engulfed by notes, with the note which required it to be erased creeping in. Lana sorrowfully erased the cat to write.

Curiosity is only good in moderation, when testing out new spells do it in a safe environment and do a quick search to see if the spell has already been discovered.

At 6:45 the bell rang. Lana asked Marlene for her phone number so they could stay in contact. She gave Lana her number and she added her to her contacts. She texted her to double check and Marlene’s phone went off. After gaining the ability to contact one another outside of class the two would part ways.

7:00, the bell rang informing the people that the last class of the day was about to start. It was the beginning of the end.

“All right, let’s see what the next class is.”

Spirit 5

The spirit track had 6 classes. She had started learning about the spirit in her freshman year of high school, and now, it was time, time for her to continue her journey.

She was instructed to open her textbook to page 152, the preamble to demonic and angelic soul bonds.

In 529 A.C. Barworlock discovered the soul. While the theory of the soul was widely rejected he was determined to prove that the soul was real and the source of magic. Since Mana is used as a payment to the gods while also being used a divine pen to request favors from the higher beings, proving the existence of the soul would require finding a way to avoid possessing Mana, and proving the lack of Mana in one without a soul.

Mrs. Safir summarized,

“This is why we give up our souls in places of both holy, and unholy worship.”

A student raises his hand.

“Why would someone forfeit their soul? What benefits does not having Mana have?”

“Mana is both how we communicate with higher beings and a sacrifice we use to ask them for favors. While giving up our souls makes us lose our Mana, and capacity to ask the divine for favors, the god which we gift our soul will aid us without being asked for support.”

Lana takes notes. The influx of information floods her page hastley creating a mess of unintelligible letters.

The student which had raised his hand pulls out a vial of a red, crystalline, semi-solid. He pulls off the cork and the substance oozes out of the vial like a slug creeping out of a cracked brick wall.

“And what’s the difference between angelic and demonic soul bonds?”

“While an angelic bond gives one the guidance and care of a divine being, a demonic bond strengthens one, but…”

Lana looks down looking away from the lesson.

“A demonic bond will make one lose themself.”

The substance starts glowing as the boy raises his hands.

“Well, maybe we should be the ones who get the souls!”

The substance morphs into the shape of a tetragram before slamming into an orb. The orb opens it’s eye and a deep, bellowing, voice cries.

“Who dare awaken Jlegnoor, demon of wisdom?”

“I did, I have come to make a deal.”

The teacher frantically tries to stop the student from continuing the ritual, but withers into an old and crippled state.

“And this time… you will get the short-end of the stick.”

The boy grasps the orb in his hand before chanting a soul bind. Unlike typical soul binds, he uses his own name in place of the name of a higher being. The orb dissipates into dust before the boy’s arms grow scaly and armored.

“Come on classmates, how about we take the strength of the gods? For centuries we have worshipped dieties which are no better then us. In order for magic to advance, we must take what we have borrowed, and gain full control of both demons and gods.”

The boy turned demon revives Mrs. Safir.

“To humanity, and to godhood!”

He lands back on the floor. A fire ignites engulfing him before skinless arms drag him downwards. He dies.

“I’m so sorry you had to witness that. The biggest problem with soul binds is that they require an object, and after death the soul will linger. It is impossible to take the soul of a higher being, only lessen their supply of souls.”

Lana raises her hand.

“Mrs. Safir, why do the higher beings want souls?”

She looks down at the textbook which educates the class before closing it.

“We may never know the answer to that question.”

Lana thinks to herself as she holds her key.

“If a soul is bound to an object then absorbing a gods power requires siphoning-”

A portal opens from the ground interrupting Lana’s thought. The boy flies out beaten and bruised along with sparks from the portal. The sparks touch the marble tiles and set the building ablaze despite it being non-flammable. Alarms ring begging the inhabitants to evacuate. The once orderly place turns into a havoc of everyone running to the exits. A group of water sorcerors try casting spells to extinguish the flames yet fail. In mere minutes, Silverwater Monastery is burnt to ash.

[z-h-i-e]

((I should really get this to AO3. All in good time.))

“Again, this is why you need a maid,” Thranduil said as he eyed the cork, which had bounced off and onto the floor. “Such a messy Elf.” He clicked his tongue. 

Elrond, who was positioning himself at the foot of the bed, cast a narrowed-eyed gaze upon Thranduil, and then turned his head towards Celebrian and said, “Go get the hairbrush.”

“Oh, no, not that, whatever shall I do?” Thranduil placed his hands behind his head, continuing on in the bored tone, “You would not dare sully my flawlessly perfect delicate skin.”

Celebrian was already out of bed.  “Do you want the big one, or the–”

“The big one,” confirmed Elrond.

Thranduil smirked.  “Yes, get the hairbrush.  We would not want him to harm his hand in the process of punishing me, would we?”

The bottle had been tilted, but the oil had yet to spill out.  Elrond righted the vessel and gripped it in his palm with his thumb over the opening.  With his other hand, he managed to flip Thranduil over, for the king was caught off his guard in that moment, and he struck Thranduil’s backside thrice with his free hand.  “You are being very naughty tonight,” drawled Elrond.

“Obviously,” returned Thranduil, lifting his hips by drawing his knees closer to his body. 

Elrond leaned in and nipped at Thranduil’s rear, for which he was greeted with a groan from below.  Celebrian crawled up onto the bed next to Elrond, handing him the hairbrush.  With the bottle of oil held tight in one hand, Elrond used the other to alternate from left to right, giving sharp, stinging strikes, but nothing hard enough to cause lasting harm.  Thranduil grunted a few times, then pulled one of the pillows closer to hold it as Elrond handed the brush off to Celebrian.

It was Celebrian who was more creative, using the bristle side to draw over the reddish-pink skin, only to flip it over a second later to give Thranduil another swat or two.  When Elrond had been in control, Thranduil had at times given his backside a wiggle, or even covered a little laughter at the situation with a snort into the pillow, but now that Celebrian wielded the brush, Thranduil’s body undulated, and short grunts turned to drawn out moans.  His hips were higher, giving Elrond the opportunity to begin preparations while Celebrian countered Thranduil’s sassiness with the hairbrush. 

“I was thinking about what you said about the two of us needing a maid,” said Celebrian while tracing a figure eight over Thranduil’s bum with the bristles of the brush.  “The suite does need tidying, but Elrond and I have so much to prepare for with the vicennial conference coming up next week.  You hate all of those meetings anyhow, so you could be our maid for the next few weeks.”

“Blasphemy.”  Thranduil sobered, movement slowing.  “I am far too pretty to perform menial labor.”

“Oh, I think you are just pretty enough,” said Celebrian.  “I even have a lace lembas-making apron I brought with me from Lothlorien, and I think it would look amazing on you.  What do you think, Elrond?”

“Just the apron?” he asked as he massaged Thranduil’s puckered opening and added a little more oil to his fingers.  

“Only the apron,” agreed Celebrian.

“I approve.”  Elrond slide his whole finger within, silencing any disagreement from Thranduil, who moaned with appreciation.  “Sounds like he is coming around to the idea.”

“We can have him dust the top of all of the high furniture.  He is very tall.”  Celebrian lifted the brush back, then paused, and considered it.  She turned it around, thrust it forward in the air, and gave Elrond a shrug.

Elrond poured a little of the oil over the handle, and then exchanged objects with Celebrian.  He then made sure the oil had covered the smooth surface before he teased it against Thranduil’s very cooperative body.  Soon, Elrond was using the brush handle to continue his preparations; Thranduil was practically purring, fingers gripping the pillow, presenting himself to his lovers and their whims. 

“I have half a mind to leave him here like this,” said Elrond.  He turned the brush, the handle rotating within where it was lodged.  Thranduil grunted.  “What did you order for supper?”

“Oh, there is some roasted pork, and small buttered potatoes with garlic.  I am sure they included fresh bread.  Also some early peas, if I recall correctly,” said Celebrian. 

“Perhaps we should take a look before it gets cold, and get back to him later,” said Elrond.  He patted Thranduil’s cheek and received a whine.

“Seems reasonable to me,” said Celebrian.  “We did work all day.”

“Someone just fuck me already!” demanded Thranduil. 

“Rude and impatient,” remarked Elrond as he gave the brush another turn.  Thranduil seemed to truly be on the edge of sobbing, so Elrond withdrew the handle and exchanged it for the bottle of oil.  His own erection had been growing while they teased Thranduil, and he coated himself with the oil before he pressed against Thranduil’s entrance.  

Thranduil strained to lift his hips higher, and let out a pleased moan as Elrond sunk deep within.  He began to open his mouth, no doubt to offer a cheeky comment or two, but Celebrian was sliding between the headboard and Thranduil.  She found a way to sit upon the pillows, legs to either side of Thranduil, and guided him so that his tongue was now tasting her sweetness.  Celebrian resumed petting Thranduil’s hair, perhaps with a firmer grip than before, and his moans led to her humming with satisfaction. 

I just think elrond, celebrían, and thranduil had kind of relationship where thranduil would come over to visit them when he was sad and just climb into their bed between them for back rubs and to get his head stroked and ears rubbed like some kind of spoiled little dog

[lemonflavoreddishsoap]

good morning/afternoon/evening, i saw your request open and i was wondering if you'd be up to write some headcanons about risotto & ghiaccio with a gn! s/o who likes to take care of them; whether it's combing/washing their hair, making meals for them, helping them relax after a day of work, etc.

feel free to delete/ignore this request if it's not of your liking. and, thanks in advance (<3).

I actually received another anon request asking for something similar-

- so I'm just gonna lump them all into one big heaping pile of headcanons! Thank you for the requests <333 La Squadra with a house husband/wife who loves to take care of them

Formaggio

Loves it so so so so much

How lucky he is to have an s/o like you, doting on him and putting in so much work for the two of you.

Always goes to you to massage out any aches from the day

Hugs you from behind while you're in the middle of cooking every time. No matter what. It's not a problem at all unless it leads to you getting something on yourself or getting burnt (in that case he'll apologize - then do it again the very next time.)

In return, he tries his best to treat you whenever he can. He buys you sweet lil gifts all the time, leaving them around for you to find while he's out on missions <333333

Illuso

All those pigtails of his? Yeah, they aren't much, but every time he puts his hair into them he considers asking you to do it instead. He never does, but if you find him doing his hair with a dumb smile on his face, that's why.

Need I say this man praises you and your work?

"Smells amazing, doll, whatcha cooking this time?"

"Damn, the room's spotless! You worked real hard, didn't ya?"

gives you a big ol' smorch on the lips....sigh....

Prosciutto

It's the kind of s/o he always pictured himself having, this is just what he expected life to have in store for him.

As a result, he sort of treats the things you do pretty casually. If you didn't know better you'd say he doesn't notice or care.

But of course, you know him better than that. The kiss on your knuckles before every meal and the quick compliments he gives you throughout the day are how he lets you know he loves you and the work you do.

It's the way he intertwines his fingers with yours in the late hours of the night, you two tucked in bed, that lets you know it's all appreciated.

Pesci

Oh Pesci.. oh this boy...

No matter how many times you do all these nice things for him, no matter how much of an everyday thing it is, it makes him feel so incredibly special every single time.

Every sweet thing you do for him has him practically blubbering out "thank you"s and "you're so sweet"s

Oh my GOODNESS. PLAY WITH HIS HAIR. his hairstyle may be strange (all of La Squadra's are), but please please please run your fingers through it, ruffle it around, mess it up a bit, he loves it.

BONUS POINTS if you get a hairbrush and fix up his messy hair afterwards. Oh he's putty in your hands.

Will do anything he can to return the favors, unless you tell him he doesn't have to. augghhh

damn i got passionate about this one

Melone

Remember how I said Formaggio hugs you from behind while you cook? Well, Melone does that too.

But unlike Formaggio he does it while you're doing literally anything. You could be scrubbing the toilet and he's embracing ya and peppering kissing down your neck and. probably distracting you quite a bit.

But also unlike Formaggio, Melone stops when asked, or when it's clear his affection is making it super hard for you to work.

He'd love it for you to braid his hair, and if you have long enough hair, he'll braid your hair too.

If there's ever a day where you aren't doing too hot, sick in bed and he has the day to stay home, he'll be your house husband for the day. A perfect chance for him to give back some kindness ;3

Ghiaccio

It's no surprise that he's coming home with a million things to complain about. So he'll pace around the kitchen and ramble while you make dinner. He's usually irritable at this time, might get picky with how you cut ingredients or how long you cook for.

Still loves everything you make, even if it's not to his exact specifications. Mutters out a "thanks" afterwards and pulls you close to press a looong kiss to your forehead.

Lets you massage the immense amounts of tension out of him. Also wants you to run your fingers through his hair, brushing through his curls and massaging his scalp. For once he stays silent, sighing and leaning into your loving touch.

This man spouts a million words a minute, but he knows he doesn't need to speak to let you know how much he loves you. He just basks in your comfort. Damn, you treat him so well.

Risotto

He loves the caring part of you, he really does, but at the start of your relationship you may need to tell him a few times to stop saying things like "you know, you don't have to do that for me."

Eventually you reach a compromise, and when it comes to cooking and cleaning, you two make it a team effort whenever he's around.

When it comes to helping him relax after work though, he never complains (anymore) about your pampering.

a comforting bath, your hands scrubbing sweet scents through his hair, a moment where he doesn't need to focus on anything except his s/o.

He dreams of having these moments for the rest of his life, holding you close in the eerie silent night and cherishing every second you love him and care for him.

[aromantic-misguide-to-romance]

Hair headcanon - the new three

Mephistopheles

his hair looks smooth and nice but if you’d ever touch it, it’d turn out actually much rougher than you’d expect – blame the fact he dyed it without the needed practice... but with a suspicious potion of very dubious quality

btw yes his hair was originally black and one of the reasons his hair never gets to fully recover is his persistence at never letting any roots show

the damage isn’t that bad – mostly normally barely noticeable since his hair is good at keeping appearance

his hair also knows better than to try to curl in humid weather. And also after all the potion abuse it isn’t in the mood anyway to cause trouble

in general it’s a very obedient mane that takes styling well but excessive attempts make it finally lose its shine so he doesn’t try too hardit gets tangled and knotted a lot so he has to carry a hairbrush with him – not a comb since individual hairs are usually quite thin and even fragile if handled roughly

in general it’s pretty average… just like Lucifer’s actually

 Raphael

his hair looks spiky and rough but it’s actually surprisingly soft

not the softest hair ever, but gives a pleasant and quite smooth sensation if you touch it

he never really brushes it though. Maybe once in a century I guess? But it’s not like it needs it much – yeah, it’s messy but not tangled and it’s enough for him to run his fingers through his hair to keep it from getting knots

usually it stays in its place once left alone, but any intervention and it’s incredibly messy

mess with his hair and it will stay like you left it with hairs sticking out left and right

on the other hand, run your fingers through it once and its orderly again

it catches all dust, dirt and whatever else very easily though

he isn’t particularly interested in hair care, he does what he needs to keep it clean

doesn’t react to weather much – if anything, it just seems heavier and flatter in humid weather, but won’t curl

 Thirteen

that one that actually knows how to dye her hair properly

she knows how to keep her hair in a good shape while keeping it look exactly as she wants it to

but note, it’s not Asmo’s level of self-care obsession – she definitely likes to like her own reflection but her approach is actually pretty practical, so she’s not going to star in a Panthene’s ad anytime soon

the closer to the end of the hair, it gets slightly rougher and more worn out but the change is more or less marginal thanks to the proper hair care

she knows how to brush it to keep it from tangling, from drying from getting dirty fast and what brush straight hair needs for which task

she doesn’t style her hair much – normally she just keeps her hair down, but it’s not unlikely to see her with her hair tied

has plenty pretty accessories and ties her hair in various ways – most often it’d be a side ponytail, but sooner or later you’ll witness other options as well

if she needs to be more formal, probably a loose side braid

generally keeps it rather practical and doesn’t try any elaborate but fragile and time-consuming hairstyles

does her hair curl in humid weather? Yes. And she absolutely rocks that look

[rfaromance]

Can I request the RFA + Minor Trio with a MC who loves to play with their hair?

Yoosung takes a lot of time and care to style his hair the way he does. He's probably the only person who actually read the directions on his hair dye to make sure the bleaching and coloring process went properly, because he was determined to get a specific shade of blond. He also takes pride in the shape and style of his bangs, complete with cute hairclips! So if MC starts fiddling with the ends of his hair, he may be startled at first. "Waaah... Am I still cute? Am I too messy?" MC needs to reassure him that he's always the cutest, and then he will enjoy the feeling of his lover ruffling his (very stiff) locks.

Zen is always ready to boast about his luscious hair, and if MC expresses any interest, he will spam them with selfies of his hair in different styles: ponytail, down, bun, braided, you name it. But MC sees that the first time he actually believes he's beautiful is the first time they run their fingers through his hair and gasp, murmuring, "Your hair is so soft and pretty." He's spent most of his life being shamed and ridiculed for his white hair, and to hear MC praise it... He's not crying. He's totally not crying. He just suddenly starts asking MC to play with his hair every other day.

Jaehee is caught off-guard the first time that MC plays with her hair. "Your hair is so silky!" MC twirls the short ends of Jaehee's hair between their fingers, relishing in the texture. Jaehee is visibly flustered. "I... have not heard any compliments about my hair since I cut it," she would confess. "You should have seen it when it was long, before Mr. Han...." When Jaehee starts fresh and grows her hair out once again, MC is eager to twirl the long, wavy strands around their fingers once again.

707 will not ask MC to fiddle with his hair, but he secretly hopes they will. He loves the feeling of fingers getting tangled in his thick, fiery curls, and the drag of nails on his scalp helps ground him when he gets too absorbed in his work. The first time MC starts to play with his curls, he's ecstatic. "Feel free to ruffle 'em up!" The only problem is when he and MC get too excited and end up knocking his glasses off.

Jumin has never experienced someone playing with his hair. He learned how to groom his hair by himself, more or less, with occasional assistance from a housekeeper when he was young. But none of those touches were ever tender or caring, always calculated and cold. He almost seems overstimulated the first time that MC runs their fingers along the back of his head, humming about how shiny and fine his hair is. Now he understands why Elizabeth loves being pet, and he finds himself asking for headpats or small strokes along the crown of his head before he goes to sleep.

Ray is far too focused on making life perfect at Magenta for MC to ever think about his own wants and needs. But one evening when he comes bearing dessert, MC invites him to sit down with them. He doesn't know what he's expecting, but it's certainly not the sudden feeling of a hairbrush dragging through his stiff, coarse bleached locks. Shame washes over him, flushing his face a deeper color than his jacket. Will MC think him weak and pathetic, once they learn how tough and dull his hair is? "You always take such good care of me. I wanted to take care of you for once." He's afraid of getting too comfortable, too complacent. He wants to be the one who provides for MC... but being pampered in their arms is a blessing he would dare not spurn.

V has grown accustomed to the question of whether his hair color is natural. He can feel his teeth grit and his blood run cold, as he forces a polite smile onto his face to inform nosy inquirers that he inherited it from his mother. He hates talking about her. Not because he hates her, but on the contrary, because he hates how he and his father neglected and mistreated her for so long. So when MC toys with the ends of his hair for the first time, he braces himself for that miserable question. But instead MC simply whispers, "Your hair is so silky and soft. Have you considered growing it even longer?" He doesn't know how to respond when MC starts braiding his hair. He just knows that he subconsciously lies his head in their lap as he melts into their gentle touch.

Vanderwood does not like when people get too close to them without permission. He's forced himself to become tough, aloof, and icy to prevent others from getting hurt... and to ensure he never develops another liability or weakness. They're already grumpy about being on a name basis with MC, because they know that any "connections" they forge must be temporary. But when MC sits behind Vanderwood one day and pretends to make twintails out of the long ends of his mullet... well, he knows he's in trouble, because he can't help but chuckle.