#he really can rock any haircut

[leclercskiesahead]

HIM

[jobean12-blog]

Game On

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Word Count: 1,451

Summary: A game of Boggle, a haircut, and one sassy teenager makes for a regular day of surviving (or really almost living). 

Author’s Note: Here with some soft domestic Joel because I’m in love. I have another fun idea planned thanks to my sweet friend @justkinsey, it’s fun to pretend everything is just great...haha. But for real- happiness for them all please. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you darling! 🥰

Warnings: fun and flirty fluff, softness and sass

GIF NOT MINE: Credit goes to @a7estrellas​ thank you bunches 🥰

Joel Miller Masterlist

Joel groans and continues staring at the grid, his brow furrowed in concentration and the pencil motionless in his hand.

You write down another word and take a quick glance at the timer, grinning when he eyes you disdainfully.

You write down one last word before the final grain of sand falls on the other end of the hourglass.  

“That doesn’t count,” Joel says definitively. “Time was up!”

“No it wasn’t! I got it just before!” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest.

Joel stares you down, his jaw set firmly and his eyes narrowed.

“Honey,” he croons. “Time was up.”

“Oh my god,” you say as you throw your hands up in exasperation. “You are such a sore loser.”

He looks at you expectantly but you don’t back down.

“It counts.”

“It does not. Time was up.”

“No. It wasn’t.”

“Darlin’”

“Joel.”

“Fine. Let’s hear ‘em,” he grumbles with a sigh.

You start reading off your list of words but you can feel his eyes on you. Slowly, you lift your gaze from the paper and meet his stare.

“What?” you ask.

He puts down his list and moves the small board off the couch before he shifts closer. Without a word he swipes the paper from between your fingers and grabs your pencil, dropping both to the floor.

“What are you doing?!” you say firmly. “I want to know who won!”

“You know who won,” he replies as he pushes you down onto the couch and covers your body with his.

“Yea…I WON! Because I always win!” you tease. “But I still like to keep count of all the times I kick your ass at Boggle.”

You can tell he wants to keep arguing but instead he dips his head and brushes his lips to yours.

“Joel,” you warn, but it comes out breathy and needy.

Your legs fall open and he settles comfortably between them as he places feather light kisses across your jaw, stopping just under your ear before he nibbles on the soft flesh.

With a gasp you drag your nails through his hair and arch into him, craning your neck back.

“You’re distracting me,” you manage to whisper.

“Hmm,” he hums with the press of his lips to your throat. “Maybe I am darlin’. I don’t hear you complainin’.”

You smile just before he kisses you, soft and slow and sweet. His hand slips under your shirt and his calloused fingertips ghost along your silky skin, just grazing the edge of your bra.

With a rock of your hips you pull a low moan from the back of his throat.

“Fuck darlin’,” he whispers against your mouth.

The front door swings open with a slam and you both go still.

You hear Ellie’s mumbled ‘shit’ before she exclaims with true teenage enthusiasm, “WERE YOU TWO JUST ABOUT TO DO IT?”

Joel drops his head to the crook of your neck with a pained groan and you try to hide your muffled laughter.

“Ellie,” he grumbles before he pushes up and off you. “Did you need somethin’?”

“Shit you guys are like horny teenagers!” she says with sigh. “Can’t leave you two alone for a second…supposed to be playing fucking Boggle…” she rants on.

Joel clears his throat and she finally stops, glaring at him.

“And yes I did need something!” she states snootily. “Did you think I just came in here hoping to catch an eyeful?”

You can’t contain yourself any longer and you let out a cackle, sitting up and adjusting your shirt. When you look at Joel he’s clearly disgruntled but the side of his mouth is turned up into a boyish smirk.

“Your hair is a mess,” Ellie points out as she stares at Joel and tries not to smile. “You need a haircut.”

“Is that what you came here to tell me?” he says gruffly.

“No,” she states pointedly. “I can’t find my walk man.”

Joel obviously has no idea where it is but thankfully you do.

“You left it on the kitchen counter,” you tell Ellie with a wink.

She slips past the couch and walks into the kitchen, snatching it up and then rushing back for the door.

“Sorry,” she says cheekily, obviously not sorry at all. “Carry on.”

Joel watches her leave before he falls down onto the couch next to you, draping his arm over your stomach.

“Damn kid,” he mutters, his smile undeniable, before he drops his head and peppers your cheek with kisses.

You push on his chest with a giggle and study him when he meets your eyes.

“You really do need a haircut,” you tell him as you run your fingers through his graying locks, making them stick up this way and that.

“Is this really what you want to talk about right now?” he asks.

“Can I cut if for you?”

His eyes sparkle despite the way he grinds his teeth in silence and he finally gives you a small nod.

“Promise?” you ask.

“Later…” he murmurs.

You open your mouth to get more reassurance than his short answer but the words are silenced as he presses his mouth down on yours and without missing a beat, wraps you in his arms and pins you under him again.

“Make sure you keep still,” you say as you stand behind Joel with the spray bottle. “I don’t want to mess up.”

You adjust the towel at his shoulders, making sure that it covers as much of him as possible before you begin to spray his hair, wetting it and running your fingers through it. He visibly relaxes and you take your time lightly massaging his scalp.

Once it’s damp enough you start to cut it, going slowly and carefully. After you even out the back you move to the front, standing between his spread legs.

Joel’s eyes are closed and his breathing is steady but he lifts his hands and rests them gently on your waist as you work and you can feel his warmth even through the fabric of your shirt.

“I’m almost done,” you say softly.

“Mm’kay darlin’,” he answers, wrinkling his nose when the small hairs tickle it.

You smile to yourself and make the last snip then take a smaller towel and gently start to wipe his face of the stray hairs.

When his face is clean you get rid of the large towel that’s covered in hair and move back in front of him, brushing your thumb across his chin before you tilt his face up.

He opens his eyes and holds your gaze.

“Well?” he asks.

“Handsome as ever,” you smile.

He runs his hand through his hair. “Feels good.”

“I just trimmed it. I like having something to grab on to.”

Mischief dances in his eyes but it’s overpowered by something more intense and he reaches for you, pulling you down to straddle his lap.

Instinctively you wind your hands around his neck and lean into him. He slides his hands up your back and pulls you down to his lips.

“NOT AGAIN!” Ellie screeches.

Joel reluctantly stops kissing you and rests his forehead to yours. “I didn’t even hear her come in,” he sighs.

“Me either,” you admit as you rest your face in the crook of his neck.

You start to get off him but he holds you in place. “Don’t move darlin’.”

“What now?” he asks as he looks past you to Ellie.

She makes a face at him, sticking her tongue out before saying, “you’d think you’d be less grumpy with how much ass you’re getting.”

“Ellie!” you chide but it comes out as more of a snort laugh.

Joel’s eyes widen slightly but he quickly recovers, steeling his gaze and masking his expression with his usual gruffness.

Ellie’s lips twitch with her barely controlled laughter and you have to look away from her so you don’t join in.

“What did you forget now?” Joel asks Ellie, his teeth gritted as he does his best to erase her words.

“My book,” Ellie says, not hiding the sass in her tone. “And I’m going to hang out with Tommy, Maria and the baby…have fun.”

Ellie sings the last words with a twinkle of her fingers before walking out with her book in hand.

“I swear that kid…” he starts, a genuine smile playing on his lips.

“She’s pretty awesome,” you say with a knowing smile. “But maybe we should start locking the door…or maybe you can learn to keep your hands to yourself unless we’re in private…”

He has the audacity to look offended before murmuring, “now that’s just crazy talk darlin’. I can’t get enough. I always want more of you.”

@blackwidownat2814​

[columboscreens]

columbo is so gender to me but i dont think i could ever look like him</3

i think it's totally possible for anyone to embody his essence. you can even manage to rock something directly inspired by columbo without looking like you're cosplaying.

hair

if you have columbo's hair type, it's actually pretty easy to emulate his styles. i even know people who show pictures of columbo to hair stylists to get his look. my partner's hair in its natural state is very similar to columbo's--dark, wavy, tending to grow in spite of gravity rather than with it. whenever he gets his hair cut, he shows the stylist photos of late 60s/pilot episode peter falk, whose look is actually pretty on-trend for the current era. it works out pretty well.

your swag may have aged well pilot columbo but you can't beat floof

failing that, getting any haircut that is natural, low-maintenance, and not too attention-grabbing captures the visual language all the same. for reference, natasha lyonne in poker face has her hair in natural-looking, messy waves that to me just exude columbo.

clothing

how you present yourself to the world is up to you, but if you want to invoke columbo, there's a lot more you can do than buy a tan raincoat.

in an era of sharply-cut, wide-lapelled constructions, fat tie tuesdays, and gucci loafers, columbo stands out as classic comfort personified.

his collar, tie, and lapels are slim, proportional, and unassuming; they'd look good in almost any era. his pants fit closely to his leg but not too wide or slim, and sit at or near the natural waist. though his suits, shirts, ties, shoes, socks, and even coats rotate, there is a consistent color palette keeping him "on model". he embraces earth tones: creams, forest greens, light browns, dark browns, stony grays, rusts, and roses. his clothing seems like an afterthought, but it's an extension of his personality--rumpled and unassuming at first, yet sharp and deliberate upon further inspection.

amid the 1970s explosion of synthetic popularity, it says something that every stitch of textile on columbo's person is natural (aside from the raincoat, which is probably nylon or poly--he wears it without a lining and uses it as essentially an oversized windbreaker). his boots are leather with crepe latex soles; his tie is silk. his shirt is cotton, a bit boxy but comfortable and properly fitted. because the construction of his suits is roomy and unstructured, and because they're made of linen, they wrinkle easily.

this is easily confused for appearing slovenly. actually, all things considered, his clothes fit him pretty damn well, it's just hard to avoid wrinkling natural fibers like linen and cotton, especially in hot weather. he's running around los angeles sweating up a storm, the man needs loose, breathable fabric.

point is, columbo dresses very thoughtfully. since these clothes are workwear for him and he works a hell of a lot, it's imperative that he factors in the weather, his comfort, and proper fit when picking clothes. he wants to like and be comfortable in them while looking unassuming. so even though he sometimes ends up looking like an unmade bed, his choices are deliberate.

you could invoke these principles in your own appearance by picking earthy colors/jewel tones and comfortable, natural fabrics that you enjoy wearing, which has the added benefit of being better for you and the environment. consider also taking a few garments in to be altered. it's usually not that expensive, supports your local needlefolk, and makes even cheap clothes fit great.

as a last little aside, i think having a "signature" clothing item akin to columbo's raincoat would be a nice touch. a jacket, a pair of shoes, even a watch or necklace. something you always wear. if you really do want a raincoat like his, just make sure you're not buying a trench coat, because, repeat after me: columbo does not wear a trench coat.

[riveranova]

(A/N): Aaand the second part! <3

IkePri's Sleeping positions! x GN! Reader - Part 2

Warnings:

Characters: Chevalier, Luke, Yves, Jin, Licht, Leon, Ikemen Prince

Word Count: 335

Chevalier Michel

Sleeping schedule worse than Jin's haircut

He's a hugger, 100%

No matter if it's a pillow or a poor, little rabbit

Doesn't sleep much, usually a really light sleeper

We know that he doesn't like to wake up early (slay)

So get ready to get squished to death by him

Luke Randolph

Sleeps everywhere, anytime

Sometimes you wonder if they way he's sleeping ever hurt him

Snores. Snores really loud. You'd think there was a construction side in the garden but suprise! it's just Luke

Head back, arms crossed, legs spread

Ffs, he's taking up the ENTIRE bench

Sleeps like a rock but open a jar of honey and he's awake and ready for duty! (eating the honey)

Yves Kloss

I will not elaborate further.

Jin Grandet

Similar to Luke, but less.. messy?

Manspreads like his life depends on it, too

But doesn't sleep around the palace (he does but that's a different thing-)

Takes up the entire bed, face first into the pillows

Honestly, he looks like he just fell into bed and went ''fuck it, this is how I sleep today''

On top of his covers, sometimes uses them when it's cold or he has uhm... 'guests' over

Licht Klein

Sleeps like a sick victorian child

Completely still in the middle of the bed, covers halfway up his chest and hands folded on top of them

Quiet, not a single sound can be heard, not even breathing

Doesn't turn around, ever

Just sleeps like that, still, unmoving

When you sleep in the same bed, you'll have to curve around him

Leon Dompteur

''I don't have any space, Leon.''

''Me neither.''

Camera cuts to the entire bed

You lay at the edge of your side, almost falling off while Leon hugs you from behind, the entire bed behind him is empty

Will not move, no matter what

Steals blankets just to throw them to the ground

Hugs you like a baby koala, so you don't even need those blankets :)

[adelheidvonschicksal]

I don't even like thinking about toji taking megumis girl. Like, in my mind he's trying to atone 😪

Yes!!! Let’s talk about it!

He loves ‘Gumi so much. He was just having a bit of a ✨ emotional breakdown ✨ during that whole selling him off deal. And personally I was coming off the Shouto train so it hits twice as hard cause he always gets his GF taken by Endeavor or Dabi (sometimes Bakugo), which Dabi makes sense since he HATES Shouto. But post-atonement Enji 😭I totally get the kink though (tbh I kinda like it in reverse 🤭). There’s actually a really GOOD fic I like called U&I with Bully!Megumi and you sleep with Toji to kinda get back at him after finding out he’s been using you. I like the revengeful ones or when it’s a 2-parter and they find out what you did.

BUT I DIGRESS, okay so I got some big brainrot and I was half asleep and started thinking about it and ahh! Plus I didn't post for his birthday so this is like the most slap together, grammarless of my brain rotting (and you brought it about Nonnie, so you gotta take responsibility lol) but:

»»———-　　———-««

(SFW) Imagine okay, like a modern AU: Toji is trying to be a better dad after the endless benders after losing his wife. He went from floating from random woman to woman, trying to catch that feeling again like when he was with his first wife. It always devolves into the same thing with him squeezing them dry for every penny he can get before moving on to the next with Megumi in tow. Sometimes it didn’t include Megumi, Toji would leave him alone for weeks to months at a time as he got older, occasionally bringing home some new mom that he’ll eventually abandon at the end of the day or that eventually gets tired of him; tired of both of them because Megumi refused to be nice to anyone Toji brought home.

But it finally hits him to be better, to try to be a good parent. Sadly, it’s too late. Megumi is a teenager now, one year from graduating high school and going to college, where Toji will definitely not have any chance to atone. He doesn’t blame the kid, it’s his own fault.

However, he sees a lot of himself in his son. The apathy that borders depression, the lone wolf attitude, the quietness and independent streak, the very small number of friends (if any, because Megumi NEVER brings anyone over or talks about school at all, usually avoids talking to him in general). He isn’t really sure what to say to the kid, not that he’s figured it all out himself or that Megumi would even listen to him. Indifference was the best he could hope for most of the time.

Then one day, he shows up at home with someone. A girl, even. And you’re cute, way too chipper to be following around his wallflower of a kid. Always entering and leaving with a “Hi, Mr. Fushiguro. Bye, Mr. Fushiguro. Looking good today, Mr. Fushiguro. Love the haircut, Mr. Fushiguro. Rocking that sweater, Mr. Fushiguro. Have a good day, Mr. Fushiguro.”

You seem too good for nobodies like them; and when he teases Megumi with the notion, his son claims you’re just his class partner for this semester, nothing else. But Toji sees how soft he gets around you, the little bit of extra effort he puts in trying to make conversation when you’re over, the blush and grouchy embarrassed complaints he makes whenever Toji tells him to leave his room door open when you guys work on projects in there. The complaints usually get a little quieter given the right laugh from you.

You have a good effect. Megumi seems a little less tense, walking the world with a little less cynicism even though it’s still clearly there. He starts hanging out with two other kids from his school, Megumi claims they’re your friends, not his, but Toji has seen the pink haired boy over twice without you. Overall, you all seem like a really good kids.

One weekend you pop because you and your friends were in the neighborhood and wanted to see if Megumi wanted to join in on whatever you’re doing. Unfortunately, Megumi’s not home, but it gives Toji a small window to prod you a little about your relationship with Megumi. He’s observant enough to notice by now that the two of you like each other but he just wanted to hear it from you, and you make the most darling lovesick face when he asks. As far as he can piece together, you’re not dating officially but the entire world treats you as you are.

When Megumi finds out what happened though. He doesn’t like it, and he makes it clear that the interference was highly unappreciated it. Toji is simply sitting in the kitchen and trying to enjoy his apple, and he’s getting the interrogation treatment by this little gremlin (affectionately) half his size.

“What were the two of you talking about?” “Nothing in particular.” “If you don’t need anything then don’t bother her.” “Why? You don’t want me speaking to her?” “No. She isn’t your type anyway.”

Then, Megumi starts going off on a tangent of why Toji shouldn’t be interested. You’re too young, you're still months off from 18, you don’t have any money for him to leech, and there’s no way you can decide on a movie together with that age gap; 'You’ll kick the bucket 30 years before her' is the meanest one though.

Based on the disrespect, it still looks like Toji has a lot of work to put in but it’s almost cute, in an grouchy, bratty (also affectionately) sea urchin type way that he’s getting so worked up over you. He thinks the kid will combust if he mentions that he does think you’re cute (in an overly energetic bubbly kind of way), and it makes him release a short chuckle as he resists the intrusive thought, which only serves to make Megumi’s frustration even worse.

Normally, he'd get tired at this point and ask if Megumi was done mouthing off yet, but this time it makes him glad to see Megumi getting so worked up over something. It’s a good feeling to know his actions didn’t completely ruin his son, that he didn't completely destroy Megumi's ability to care about life like his former family and the world had once done to him. It makes smile the tiniest bit even as Megumi seems to try to trudge away after making his point. Whatever point there was to be had. The boy is such a chronic overthinking about everything and everyone, including if you’re one of those girls at the school that squeal when they see him pick him up at school on the rare occasion.

“Hey,” Toji calls out to get his attention. “Do you know what you’re doing?” It’s not the best words but it’s the only way to sum up the familiar feelings he gets of his past, right after he left his family, right before he met Megumi’s mom. And after losing her without ever really making the most of everything back then and treasuring the moments together. “It’s hard to find something like that. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

He can sense the tension draining from Megumi, the panic and shaky nervousness from seconds ago leaving in the form of drooped shoulders and a soften, mildly confused expression as he looks back at him. Something seems to finally click in that overly worked brain of the younger Fushiguro and he mumbles, “I know.”

And Megumi gets that look again, that quiet one, too caught up in his own head.

"Do I need to make room for a daughter-in-law in that case?" he asks lazily before taking another bite of his apple, the chewing echoing. It's enough to earn some grumbles and a red face. He smirks when the boy quickly decides to hobble back to his room and hide away in embarassment. Like a normal kid.

And Toji thinks that maybe…a small maybe… that maybe they’ve gotten a little closer. If only in that moment. Regardless, he really hopes that the talk is one of those things the school already covered because he really doesn’t want to be responsible for that.

[bri-the-nautilus]

The Omega in the Room

Spoilers under the cut for the Bad Batch Season 3 trailer. All of this is my personal theorycrafting.

So something I haven't really seen talked about all that much is this shot of Omega from the new trailer.

She's flying a ship, clad in her Tantiss prison jumpsuit. The haircut is new, but her hair/eye color, clothes, and facial structure are indicators that it's her.

Now am I going crazy, or does Omega in this picture look markedly older than she does in Season 2 and in other shots from the S3 trailer? Take this one.

Maybe it's just the angle and the expression being different, but the top Omega looks somewhat older to me, and not just because she's changed her hair. See how she comes up to the clone commando's elbow in this one?

In this shot, she has her haircut from the cockpit scene. It's tough because she's standing in front of him, but she might be taller relative to the clone commando in this shot. And her face looks different. I really think this Omega is older than the one in the second picture by a not insignificant amount. Which is deeply worrying, because our girl is a Boba Fett-type clone. She doesn't have accelerated aging.

There's one other shot in the S3 trailer that people think is her, and it's the one of the downed Nu-class shuttle.

From the little we can make out, it looks like the two figures limping away from the crash site are Crosshair (rightmost, under a pointy rock) and Omega (on the slope just under the front of the dorsal fin). The first shot of Omega with her new hair is in the cockpit of a ship, which looks like it could be from a Nu. I couldn't find any good pictures of the inside of a Nu's cockpit, but from the canopy/size it looks similar enough. A fan theory I've seen floating around for this scene is that this is the aftermath of Omega and Crosshair escaping Tantiss, with Omega's flying lessons paying off as they narrowly escape before being forced to crashland.

The last thing that's relevant from the trailer is Hunter's line that Omega's "been waiting for a long time." Hunter doesn't strike me as someone who speaks in hyperbole, so if he's saying it's been a long time, we're definitely talking months to years. If I'm right, Omega has been on Tantiss long enough to noticeably age by the time she escapes. With her being in the 10-13 age range at the beginning of the show, she's at an age where it doesn't necessarily take a really long time for her to start looking older, but this doesn't happen overnight either. I think we're talking at least a year, and very possibly more, since the end of Season 2 and the time she escapes.

In the shots we have of younger Omega in the trailer, we see her looking surprised to see Crosshair and staring sadly out a window. Older?Omega looks grim and determined as she is escorted through the Tantiss facility and flies a Nu-class shuttle before bailing out with the aforementioned Crosshair. I think she's definitely older and harder in these scenes, and the fact that it's been so long and she's changed so much is going to be some great angst when they rejoin the Batch.

I also think there's amazing fluff potential for Emerie bonding with Omega and doing her sister's hair, but I digress

[luminous-letters]

Hello. So I have a funny thought. The dorm leaders over hearing Mc talking with someone about what do they like in a guy. Mc's response is a guy who has a ponytail. I can't stop snickering at someone like Riddle making up a rule about no one in his dorm can wear a ponytail. Well except him, which he tries to do when he invites Mc to an unbirthday party. Thats all I can think of, but it'll be funny if you can think of the dorm leaders reacting to this info. Or just any characters of your choosing. It doesn't matter. (Really want you to mention Sebek though)

due to the character limit 👁️ since you mentioned you wanted to see our dear crocodile child and riddle. i'll be adding azul and malleus since i believe they're that big of a shit to pull it off 😎

"Someone laid-back and relaxed..."

Sebek was sure that neither of those words would even be remotely associated with him. He knew well of his reputation of being the tight-laced and honorable retainer of Malleus Draconia!

Surely, there was something he could do for you to change your tastes. Some event that would make you say, 'No! That isn't my type! I like someone strong, passionate and devoted!'

He would show how inefficient of a significant other (bother) it would be to have someone who's annoyingly lax. Every situation must be taken seriously, and every action must be given one's all.

Or he could go for the alternative and — much to his dismay — loosen up a little.

So, with a plan, a backup plan, and a backup-backup plan, he marched towards your dorm.

It was quite a jarring sight to see Sebek lazily eating on the couch. Add the fact that he hasn't yelled nor spoke Malleus' name was enough to be nightmare fuel.

"Sebek, are you ill?"

"Yes."

"Ponytails look hot on a man..."

Ponytails...? Out of all hairstyles you had to choose someone that wore that devil-spawn style on their hair? Good grief, it might be just as bad as rock music. As mother says, it is the root of all evil— along with goatees.

And that same evil belies that dastardly hairstyle's roots as well.

New rule— No More Ponytails. Every student must keep their hairstyle as-is and should follow the school's hygiene guidelines. Which means everyone is to get a haircut with length well within the rules.

And yes, that extends to you, Cater. And that is final.

"Can't a man just style his hair in peace?"

"There, there, Cater."

"Dorm Leader! Wait— is that...a ponytail...?"

"You're pretty petty on this one, Dorm Leader."

"That's fair."

"If there's anything I want in someone— it's punctuality."

Of course, Azul wasn't into employing petty tactics such as adding more tasks to his employees'— erm, dormmates' workload. He wasn't the type.

It was merely chance that Mostro Lounge becomes incredibly packed and busy whenever you chose a lucky bachelor from Octavinelle. You must understand that the lounge needed more hands on deck than usual. Truly, he did wish for your dates to go swimmingly.

But if a punctual man is what you fancy, you need not search any further. The Octavinelle housewarden prides himself in that aspect of himself. Rest assured, he'd arrive not a minute late to any of your commitments with him.

Mysteriously, during your little date with Azul, Mostro Lounge was as quiet as a mouse. It was almost deserted, with only less than a few patrons along with Azul and you— his muse.

"It's good to see this place isn't as busy as before."

"Yes, Azul hasn't called any of those who are indebted to him to purchase a meal."

"Jade!"

"Oh, it was a slip of the tongue. My bad."

"I want someone smart, but still has that bad boy feel around them."

He hated the fact that Kingscholar was the first person to come to mind the moment you uttered those words.

Your preferences are quite strange. Do you not prefer a powerful and gentlemanly prince over a lazy and sloppy man such as Kingscholar?

He was not one to conform to another person's standards. But Savanaclaw's dorm attire did look rather stylish. It was far different from Diasomnia's military uniform.

And wouldn't missing out on this opportunity mean that he wasn't fully enjoying his life as a student now, would it? It wasn't an excuse, mind you.

"My, Malleus, Savanaclaw's attire rather fits you."

"Oh? And what's that to mean, Lilia? Piling me with those hooligans?"

"I'm sure father does wish not speak ill of your look, my Lord."

"It was a joke, Silver."

"YES! AND LORD MALLEUS LOOKS HANDSOME IN EVERYTHING HE WEARS!"

"I'm flattered, Sebek."

[beansricejc]

JOHN WICK x READER : The Courier

part 2 (part 1!)

summary: three years have passed since you ran into John, where you refused his offer for a drink. you have climbed the criminal underworld social ladder significantly in the past three years. John sees this as a challenge, and insists that you have that drink with him. sparks fly, slower burn. female reader, 4240 words.

author’s note: i really like going into detail about the reader’s job because girl boss things, lol! if you haven’t, I’d recommend reading part 1 if you’d like, you can certainly read this as a stand alone! pls lmk what you think if you want to! thx! 💕

warnings: nsfw fantasies, alcohol, cursing, implied violence, organized crime, slow burn, significant age gap.

Three years.

It had been three years since you saw the man at that party. The party full of criminal elites, hitmen, you name it. If they were a big deal in the criminal world, they were there that night. You were just starting out then, actually on the job, you had delivered some files to the Continental Manager, Winston, that night. Right before you left, you managed to catch the eye of the world’s most dangerous hitman.

Wick.

John Wick.

He had insisted that you join him for a drink, and you insisted harder that you were working, still on the job. You had other deliveries to run, you didn’t have time to just drop an hour to share conversation and possibly suck face with the man.

You had made yourself known back then, criminals used your services often, and your gig slowly grew. And grew. And grew some more.

Until three years later, you had accidentally created an entire enterprise dedicated for servicing several crime syndicates around New York City.

Before you knew it, you were technically a crime boss. Your business delicately walked the gray area of illegal and legal.

Okay, it was actually super illegal.

You had hired almost 70 women from the local NYC area, all of them that met your standards of talent and experience. Completing deliveries across the city for crime syndicates was tricky work, work that had to be meticulously done.

And with one of the largest servicer businesses in the area, people didn’t just know your name, they feared it.

But why? Why would they fear the CEO of a shady delivery company?

You were neutral territory. With all of the gangs across New York City using your service, they knew better than to decide to mess with you, or your business.

You were like the Switzerland of the criminal underground.

Everyone in the local industry knew this.

And tonight, you had actually been invited to join this party, formally by Winston himself. Your assistant had casually mentioned the event invitation that he emailed you, and despite your higher status on the current criminal food chain, you were still shocked about it.

Your past 48 hours were solely dedicated to being a self care queen. Haircut, mani pedi, facial, eyebrow waxing, you name it. If there was one thing, it was you were were going to be the center of attention tonight.

And you were.

With your form fitting black maxi dress, gold jewlery, perfectly applied makeup and styled hair, you could just sense all of the eyes on you tonight. You had walked in with your small entourage consisting of your personal assistant, and a few personal bodyguards. Of course with you and your non-chalant attitude, you acted like you didn’t know that you were the shit.

And there was John. An almost repeat scene from three years ago, mingling with the same group of OG hitmen in a corner of the hotel lounge. Once again nursing the same brand of bourbon on the rocks, talking about god knows what, probably the worst way they’ve ever killed a group of goons.

John’s eyes scanned the room for any pretty women to hit on tonight, the same old same old. Buy a few drinks, go upstairs with a cute little thing, cum on her back, buy her an uber and send her home. John lost all hope in trying to actually find a romantic interest a long time ago after the passing of his wife, there was just no time for it.

Although, the thought of being battered and bloody, shuffling through the door after a hard days work, and having a pretty girl to patch him up and then subsequently suck him off did sound appealing to him.

Anyways, there John was, scouring through the bar and lounge with his dark brown eyes for something to cum on later this evening, and before he knew it, his eyes darted, and landed on none other, but you.

Y/N.

John widened his eyes, his heartrate increasing a bit just from the mere sight of you. The way your feminine figure looked in that black dress that clung to your body, the way your manicured fingers applied another layer of lipgloss while your assistant spoke to you. The way you introduced yourself to some very dangerous looking Yakuza members but managed to make them laugh with the almost fluent Japanese you were speaking, he was almost in shock.

John keeps an eye on Y/N. He likes your style but he knows you could turn on him at any moment you wanted, even if you weren’t known to jump to violence like most.

You appeared like a typical crime boss, hiding the brutal side of your under layers of class, style, humor, and charm. It's an act. The best are able to hide their dark side behind their public face. John has seen these types in his many years in the business.

But he’d be lying if he said you weren’t the most beautiful woman in this room right now. And your laugh, it travels like wind to his ears, it’s almost ethereal. Was it the liquor? Probably. He didn’t care, it had been years since he’s seen you leave through those doors, and now he’s only heard mere stories of you and your enterprise.

-

“No way, Y/N? She decided to actually come? God, she’s a fucking dime.” one of John’s colleagues that was in his mingling circle commented. John inhaled sharply, snapping out of whatever trance he just had from looking at her.

“You hear she still does her own jobs? Could you imagine any other boss getting their hands dirty in this day in age? I’ll give it to her, she’s a bad bitch.” the same guy said, the rest of the men laugh and agree.

John remembers, it hits him. Y/N isn’t necessarily a hitman, nor does she run a hitman empire. That’s right, she’s an armed, fast, and efficient courier. Not to mention deadly. Her or her team wouldn’t just be regular hitmen for hire, they would only kill if it was necessary to complete their deliveries. And sometimes, it was definitely necessary.

John has only heard of the high speed chases that she or her crew took part in against the police, or even people that want to get their hands on whatever they were transporting. And what did this woman of great skill use to transport important items for crime bosses?

Simple.

A Kawasaki Ninja H2.

An absolute beast, somehow street legal that had a top speed of 209 miles per hour. With a two-speed centrifugal supercharger and the best suspension on the market. Anyone without the skillset of Y/N or even one of her employees didn’t stand a chance to utilize this creature to it’s full potential.

The thought of riding one of those magnificent bikes sent a chill down John’s spine.

Not only did she have one, but every woman under her employment was issued one for jobs as well. The fastest street legal bike there was.

“Remember when she totally cock blocked you three years ago?” one of his colleagues, Parker, reminded John, snickering after. John’s face gave a deadpan expression to the laughing group of men, as he downed the rest of his liquor and demanded a refill from the bartender. The worker obliged without hesitation, pouring the brown liquid into his crystal clear glass, and John took a large drag from the cup, finishing about half of it in one go.

One thing that John had always regretted in the past few years since meeting that woman, was not being persistent enough.

The status she had obtained over the years was something to behold. Not only was she young, but she had climbed the social ladder in his industry faster than he had ever seen. He could see how too, with what was displayed about 45 feet away from his eyes.

Y/N with her entourage of bodyguards, a personal assistant, with her confident demeanor demanding respect with a subtle tone in her voice as she spoke in a foreign language, to these Yakuza members no less.

She was this pretty little thing, with a beautiful smile and laugh. But John could see the beast of her personality and lethal skill behind that feminine figure.

And he was intimidated to say the least. Not petrified or scared for his life, the potential to be a worthy adversary was there, lingering in the air.

And John was slightly turned on by it.

-

You were laughing with these Japanese criminals as your gaze was distracted from the wolf that was stalking you from all the way at the oak carved bar. Your heartrate sped up a bit, images of your first and last encounter, at this very same location infiltrated your brain. It was short but you wouldn’t consider it sweet.

Tense? Yeah.

John was clearly interested in something besides for sharing small talk over a drink, and seemed to take offense that you had more work you had to take care of that night. You stuck out like a sore thumb that night, with a motorcycle helmet on your head, in a crowd of people in black tie dress wear at the party.

And look what we had here, three years later.

Except instead of a wolf stalking his prey, it was a fair duel. Carnivor versus carnivor, in a sense. Both with a reputation and a high standing in the underground, no matter how long it was. You only had a few years under your belt, whereas John, had decades. And that was the most intimidating thing about him to you. Experience.

John decided he would take you as his challenge of the night. He may have failed three years ago, when you were nothing but a simple service provider, and he didn’t expect anything more this time around. But fuck it, right?

Let’s be a bit more persistent this time around, Wick. John thought to himself as he sauntered towards your stunned form.

Round two huh? No shit. You think, stifling a laugh and replying to something that one of the Japanese men said to you. You take another sip of your dirty martini, leaving a lipgloss stain on your glass as your eyes traveled up to John’s staggering expression as he finally approached you fully. You don’t move or say a word, in fact, one of your very large bodyguards steps between the two of you and begins to pat John down for any weapons he could possibly have on him.

John knew better than to carry a gun to a party hosted by the Continental. Besides, he hardly needed it. He was the weapon of the century, as far as he was concerned.

The bodyguard saw he was clean but knew that John was still a threat, if he really wanted to be. However, the guard stepped to the side, back to his original position, slightly behind Y/N’s much smaller and less menacing form.

A coy smirk painted your face when you finally meet his gaze again, as you delicately hold out your hand out towards John. He gladly takes it in his much larger, calloused hands, bending over slightly and placed a small kiss on your knuckles. A normal greeting for a woman of your position in this industry.

“You’re quite the persistent man, John.” you chuckle, as his lips leave your hand and he looked back at you, smiling in an almost tauntful manner.

That familiar scent of John Wick hits your nostrils once again. Patchouli, tobacco, and, gunpowder? Someone’s been busy.

“You’re not the first to notice, Y/N.” John retorts, holding up his glass to you in agreement. His knuckles are covered in freshly changed bandages, with yellow bruising peeking out from underneath them. “I’ve heard business is booming.” he comments, you roll your eyes and sigh.

“You could say that. A lot has changed in 3 years, as you can tell.” you reply, noticing that his dark brown eyes are studying everything about you. Classic hitman behavior. Your expressions, emotional state, movements, even the way that your nose scrunched when you smiled or laughed. Almost as if he’s unintentionally sizing you up, and this makes you chuckle.

“Oh, trust me. I know.” was the only thing John could reply to that. He realized you have caught him soaking in all of your features, including those tempting glossy lips of yours.

Sinful thoughts enter his mind, and he has to try his hardest not to give into them at this very moment.

He’s wondering what else those lips could do, he’s been fantasizing about you since day one, of course he’d never admit it. John was a notorious playboy after the death of his wife, his pride was too big to say that he may have regretted not going for you a little harder.

The thought of shoving you against one of his hotel room walls, with a thud that echoed out to the hallway ensuing from it. He’d loom over your much shorter frame, and you would breathe heavily, anticipating the hitman to not hold anything back with you. Moments of silence passed before he slammed his lips onto those pretty pink ones he’s been dreaming of for so long. Biting down on the flesh of your bottom lip, hands searching frantically for your core, ripping whatever fabric you had guarding it and teasing your clit with expertise. Slow and precise circles, just to torture you. You’d gasp at the sensation, leaving the perfect time for him to take over the kiss by tossing his tongue into your mouth, his other hand going to your neck and squeezing to keep you in your current spot. You wouldn’t be going anywhere, anytime soon.

“Did you want something?” you asked John, forcing him out of the fabrication that tantalized his brain. John cleared his throat, and laughed nervously.

“Was wondering, if you’d have that drink with me now.” John requested, nodding to the barren martini glass in your hand. You sighed, knowing that you were attracted to this older man, no matter how many times you tried to deny it to yourself.

You were the head of a criminal powerhouse, a young woman, independent, deadly, and an expert in your craft. Of course you didn’t want to be at the whim of some man that happened to get your attention, romantically, sexually, it didn’t matter. Besides, there was hardly time for it with the position you held.

But here you were, obliging John fucking Wick in having a drink with him, after three years of denying him.

Damn your hormones. Damn this man and his long dark hair.

So a drink you had. Then another drink. And a couple of shots, John wanted to know what the kids were drinking these days, so of course you had to show him. In the past couple of hours of actually easy going conversation, he had realized you were damn near his exact type of woman. Clever, with a great sense of humor, and fairly kind, all things considered. He could tell you weren’t just some underworld nepo-baby, and that you came from a humble upbringing, which made him even more attracted to you. (If that was even possible).

He met a woman who could keep up, even lead, a conversation with him.

If he was the Boogeyman, you were the Devil herself. Quick witted and sharp tongued, he couldn’t help but be even more intrigued after every sentence you dropped from your mouth.

The guests at this party were astonished to say the least.

The pair were certainly, a unique match. A young crime boss managing to make the world’s deadliest man open up like a badly wrapped package after a few drinks and good banter. What a sight to behold.

The night however, was ending. To his surprise, you were finishing the night up with a canned Pabst Blue Ribbon, a true contradiction to your current high ranking and your black tie event dress. John couldn’t help but be pleasantly surprised, and noticed that the alcohol was certainly hitting the both of you.

You had told your personal protection entourage that they could go to their respective hotel rooms for the night, knowing that John wouldn’t be deemed a threat to you after he had showed you images of his Blue Stafford Terrier on his phone.

“You mind if I, uh, walk you to your room?” John hiccuped as he asked, you giggled at this mannerisms, giving your signature nose crinkle that your face did whenever you smiled. Your grabbed your leather purse and left some large bills on the counter to cover for your drinks. John slid your cash back to you, waving the gesture you gave off.

“I already took care of it. Don’t you dare.” John informed you, tossing you a wink and you rolled your eyes at his ever so flirtatious nature.

“Well, unnecessary, but thank you.” you drunkenly told him, sliding the large bills over to your bartender for his tip, shrugging at John. He raised his eyebrows, and took that generous action down in his head.

Treats waitstaff well. Noted. John thought to himself while the palm of his hand found it’s way to the small of your back, taking in the feel of the luxurious fabric. He led you out of the lounge and towards the elevators, managing to snag an empty one to help you into, not that you really needed the help, he was just being a gentleman.

He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to be a gentleman with you. Maybe it was your high status? Maybe it was because he felt different with you than with other women he casually hit on at the bar.

“Which floor?” John asked, and you looked up at his handsome face, drinking in his sharp and manly features. You didn’t know why (it was the liquor) but you giggled a bit at him.

“8.” you simply told him, and he pressed the button to that exact floor.

The doors shut, and John cleared his throat.

And here comes the tension. Was it like the movies? Would this ride up the hotel floors ensue in a steamy makeout session?

Of course not.

This was you we were talking about. You were ridiculous. So of course you checked your phone for anything important, and John couldn’t help but take a look to see if you were secretive. You weren’t. (It was the liquor, usually you were).

You had received a string of memes from one of your closest friends and assistant, Marissa. You two were very close, and she had been a part of your enterprise since day one.

-

John could tell, the age gap was evident. Shown explicitly by Y/N giggling and intoxicated at these random pictures she had been sent.

John took a closer look.

He was staring at a photoshopped image of a Hello Kitty head pasted onto a muscular matching body. John raised his eyebrows. He read the caption on the picture, which read: if the homies are sleeping on you, spoon them.

“Wh-what the fuck am I looking at?” John slipped up, as Y/N was giggling nonstop at the image on her phone.

“It’s a masterpiece, you just- you just don’t get it. And that's okay.” Y/N replied as the elevator doors opened to the floor that your room was on.

John shook his head and laughed at the absurdity of the joke.

The consequences of hanging out with the younger generation.

John escorted Y/N to her room, where you took out your room card and sighed. The butterflies in your stomach were going absolutely haywire at the moment, and you didn’t know if that was because of the alcohol, or the DILF of a man gazing down at her with a romantic look in his deep brown eyes.

There was the tension. Thick enough to cause a fog in the room, it tingled between them as they both bore into each other’s eyes.

Fuck it. John thought, his head dipping a bit, Y/N’s hand lifting to his chest to stop his movement. Her heartbeat was out of control, and the anxiety had finally caught up to you. Here was this absolute art piece of a man who she had been getting along with all night, all worked up and ready to go. You took a deep breath.

“J-John. I don’t really, do this sort of thing, I’m just too busy for any of it.” you admit to him. John’s soul plummets into the pit of his liquor filled stomach, he had been expecting to kiss this woman who had been keeping him good company all night.

Well, that killed the mood, didn’t it?

You weren’t good at this sort of thing, of course you’ve had several ex boyfriends in the past, but for a few years, you hadn’t indulged in any sort of relationship, mainly because of the hunk of responsibility that has now weighed down on your back.

“God dammit.” you curse at yourself as you cave in, wrapping your hands quickly around John’s neck and pull him in, crashing your lips onto his as he first intended to do. The passion between the both of you could have been caused by the alcohol, or by the banter you two had shared at the bar for the past few hours. John grunts in surprise but he isn’t mad at all, very satisfied actually. His hands find their way to your well shaped hips, which your dress was so delicately covering, and his fingers give you a taunting squeeze in response to your sudden change of heart.

John’s teeth do what he had imagined earlier when he first spoke to you, biting down on your bottom lip, earning a squeak of surprise from you. He can’t help but smile into the kiss, humming in affirmation to your cute noise.

The pair of you break away, both breathing heavily, you’re slightly dizzy from the alcohol, and he is dizzy on the thought of fucking you right here any now against the wall. The scratch of his beard still stung your mouth and cheeks but you didn’t mind. It was a reminder of him, even though he was right there in front of you. Your breath hitched as John watched your prominent chest rise and fall with each heavy breath that you took.

“Um, how about I give you my card, okay?” you ask, fishing out a black and metal business card and slipping it into John’s right hand. He’s taken aback by the coolness of the metal against his warm skin, and nodded into your forehead, that he was touching with his own.

John cleared his throat, that was still tingling from all of the alcohol he had with you tonight.

“Y-yeah. That’s perfect.” John answered. You press your lips together, a pink hue dashes upon your cheeks and nose after the kiss, you haven’t done anything like this in a few years.

Jesus Christ, what are you, a middle schooler? Pull yourself together, girly. You think to yourself.

“Alright,” you sigh, slipping your key card into the lock on the hotel door, opening it. You pause to look back up at John, still in your drunken and flustered phase from that kiss you two shared. “Just text me, ‘kay?” you ask, shooting him a nervous but still excited smile, before you swoop into the room, barricading yourself from John with the hotel door.

It closes, and clicks to let you know it’s locked.

You hurry to the bathroom and take a long deep breath, smacking yourself on the cheeks and splashing cold water on your face to knock yourself out of this state of anxiety you’re in.

John is still frozen in front of your hotel room door that you have just escaped behind, he shakes himself out of it and peeks down a the metal engraved business card.

It has your first and last name, phone number, email, and various social media accounts listed on the small card.

He still can’t believe what just happened.

Y/N, the ever so popular crime boss that was the next big thing, just melted like a schoolgirl in his arms.

No fucking way. John thinks, laughing a bit in disbelief.

He shuffles back to his hotel room, which happened to be on the same floor as yours, it’s down a few doors and to the right. He enters, goes inside and plops himself down on the bed, staring at the card that he still had in his hand.

“God, she’s hot.” He mumbled to himself, thoughts are racing through his mind, some innocent, most are filthy.

The image of you bent over his kitchen counter while pounding you into submission, spanking you hard on your nicely shaped ass while you scream his name is the consistent image in his head. Or him grabbing your hair, pulling your head back and whispering sweet nothings into your ear while he fucked, and fucked, and fucked you from behind.

John blinked a few times, realizing he now has a completely hard cock because of the fantasy that couldn’t seem to go away just now.

Well, looks like the playboy would have to take care of himself again. It wasn’t the first time he did it after meeting you, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

[impala-dreamer]

Like An Animal

~Left alone with Soldier Boy, Y/N has to try to hold her own against America's First Superhero and his deliciously dirty ideas...~

Ben (Soldier Boy) x F!Reader

2,854 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Cat and Mouse, Rough Sex, Breeding!Kink, Filthy and Delicious

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Y/N thought she was safe when Butcher and Hughie left. Ben- Soldier Boy- Whatever The Fuck His Name Was- was calm, deep into his second bottle of whiskey and watching the news. Every so often he would laugh at something the reporter said or shake his head at a random commercial, yell at the screen as if they could hear him. He was high as a kite and flooded with booze, but he seemed to handle it well.

She watched from the sofa across the room as he rocked back on the creaky wooden chair at the table and stuffed a handful of fries into his mouth. As handsome as he was, he was pretty disgusting. She didn’t mind the trimmed beard and haircut, though. The loose gray sweat pants he wore weren’t turning her away either. Every time he moved, her gaze would unconsciously shoot right to his crotch.

It was clear Hughie hadn’t brought him any shorts.

The snake in his pants moved as the chair teetered on two legs and Y/N let out a heavy breath that caught his attention.

“You alright over there?” he growled, deep voice crackling in her ears.

She looked up, embarrassed, and felt her cheeks burn under his gaze. “Yeah. Whatever.” She turned away quickly and pretended to check her phone. “I’m fine.”

Ben grinned. “You sure are.”

Her stomach tensed. “Excuse me?”

The chair hit the floor with a thud as he sat up right. Green eyes fell over her body and Ben bit down into his bottom lip, checking her out. “I said, you’re hot.”

There was no way to deny the stream of warmth that trickled down her spine, but Y/N did her best to ignore it.

“Actually you said I was fine, but whatever. Go back to your burger.”

“Not hungry for that,” he teased, leaning forward and rubbing his giant palms down his thighs.

Her mouth watered and she swallowed it down quickly. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Am I?” He ran his tongue across his top teeth, glaring at her like a lion stalking a deer. “Been locked up for a few decades… I could use a little… release.”

Her heart raced.

“If you know what I mean…”

Y/N pushed away the threat of arousal and rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately, I do. But I think breaking you out of your pod was all of the release you’re going to be getting.”

Ben tipped his head back a bit and laughed. Her eyes found his thick throat from across the room and her pussy clenched. She held her breath, desperate to calm down, but his stare was too strong, his presence too intoxicating suddenly.

“You know what I think?” he asked, pushing himself up to his feet.

Y/N shrugged. “I don’t really care-”

“I think you’re lying,” he answered for himself, slowly moving across the room. “In fact, I know you are.”

The closer he got, the faster her heart raced. Her hands trembled around her phone and she shoved them down into the cushions.

“And you’d know that how?”

Ben stopped short, bare toes digging into the ugly carpet. The long shadow in his sweatpants moved and Y/N’s eyes went right for it.

He grinned. “Because I can hear your heart pounding.” He reached out for her, long fingers hovering over her cheek. “I can see the sweat on your skin, the color bursting beneath…”

She sucked in a hard breath and the scent of him flooded her brain. Grease and cheap soap and something heavy underneath it all, something warm and smooth and utterly delicious.

Still, she tried to push it all away. “It’s just warm in here,” she whispered, barely able to move her tongue as his fingers landed on her cheek.

He brushed them downwards and over, gently plucking at her lips. “About to get a hell of a lot warmer too…”

He sounded so sure, so confident that he could get what he wanted that Y/N snapped out of her lustful stupor and slapped his hand away.

“You’re a pig,” she spat, jumping up from the couch and moving away from him. “You can’t just put your hands on me like that.”

Unphased, he smoothly spun on the spot to face her. “Can’t I?”

“No!”

The slight turn of his plump lips made her ears buzz and her nipples harden.

“I think I can…”

He took a step closer and Y/N shivered.

“You can fuck off is what you can do,” she warned, voice barely a gasp over the rush of blood in her head.

“I think I can fuck you.”

Violently, she shook her head and backed up. “Never.”

“Really?” He dipped his chin and countered her steps. “Because I can hear the wetness dripping from your pretty little pussy.”

Her jaw dropped. “That’s not- You can’t-”

Ben tapped his left ear. “Super hearing. Also, it’s written all over your face, doll.”

Y/N jolted when her back hit the wall, her entire frame stiffening as he inched closer. “Stay back.”

“And what are you gonna do if I don’t?”

His toes hit hers and he leaned in, placing his right hand on the wall beside her head.

“Can’t shoot me…”

His left hand mirrored the right and Y/N’s chest heaved with labored breaths as she found herself caged.

“Can’t out run me…”

The heat pushing off of him was nearly too much for Y/N to take and she stared up into his emerald eyes, wishing he would rip her apart.

“Can’t even move right now, can you?”

Y/N’s gaze fell from his eyes to his lips and she shook her head slowly.

He pressed in closer, the tip of his nose brushing lightly against hers.

“You’re stuck here with me and there’s nothing you can do about it. Those boys left you behind like an offering. A vestal fucking virgin just waiting to be destroyed.”

His hand slid from the wallpaper and landed on the side of her face. Y/N shuddered at the heat of his touch and stood frozen as he traced her jaw with one long finger.

“They-” She stammered, quickly losing the ability to think as the pad of his index finger reached her chin and dipped beyond the cliff. “They wanted me to watch you…”

Ben smiled softly and cocked his head to the side. His eyes were dark and vicious, his target set.

“That’s fine,” he whispered, lips drawing nearer as he fit his massive hand around her throat. “You can keep your eyes open.”

His lips were softer than she expected, framed by the bristling beard, and her eyes rolled shut as he forced his kiss upon her. Trembling, she shoved at his firm shoulders but it made no difference. He wouldn’t budge. His tongue slipped across her lips and Y/N moaned despite herself.

Ben took a breath and looked down at her with a sinister grin.

“I hate you,” she hissed.

“No,” he laughed, “I don’t think you do.”

Again he licked at her lips and this time she gave in, opening up for him as the grip on her delicate throat tightened. He squeezed and she gasped, eyes fluttering closed as his hot tongue plunged into her mouth.

His elbow buckled and Ben dropped his entire weight down over her, crushing her into the plaster. She struggled beneath him, squirming against his kiss, his heat, the smell of him, the taste. Her head was spinning when he grabbed her arms and tugged, lifting her clean off of her feet.

She fought for a breath, choking back a scream as he flung her down onto the messy bed. The sheets were askew, the pillows out of place. An empty bag of chips crushed beneath her back and Y/N flailed to catch her balance while the springs creaked.

“Well that finally shut you up.” Ben licked her kiss from his lips and tugged the jersey from his shoulders.

“Me?” Y/N crawled up to the headboard to steady herself. “You’re the one who hasn’t stopped talking.”

He chuckled under his breath and set one knee on the bed. “I’m about to…”

Every drop of sass and resistance in her died away when he fell to his hands and knees at her feet. The light sparked on the deep ridges of his shoulders and arms, shadows played along the thick ropes of his neck. Her stomach tightened and she let go, begging with wide eyes for him to have his way.

His big hand fell to her right ankle and Y/N sucked in a quick breath as he yanked her down to him. In one swift motion, she was lying helpless beneath him, trapped once more by his powerful arms.

He was stunning. Absolutely gorgeous and deadly and horrible and Y/N couldn’t last another second. She reached up, fingers twisting in the thin cotton of his undershirt. She tugged and he dipped down, nipping at her lips with a biting kiss that set her blood on fire.

“Fuck…”

The mattress shifted as he pushed a knee between her thighs. “Is that a request?”

Tiny fingers clawed at the tank top and Y/N ripped the fabric, tearing it at the collar. “I thought you were gonna shut the fuck up now-”

“So bitchy,” he breathed, licking at her lips. “I love it.”

Y/N pushed her hands up into his thick hair, pulling at the long locks while his suckling mouth traveled down her throat. He paused over her pulse and pressed his teeth threateningly over the throbbing artery.

“I could kill you, you know…”

His growling whisper made her body shake and her thighs clenched around his knee.

Her fingers tensed in his hair. “Kill me and the fun stops…”

He laughed against her collarbone and took a quick bite. “Maybe I’ll hold off then.”

Y/N yanked on his hair, lifting his face from the crook of her neck. “Good choice.”

Distracted by her bruising kiss, Ben let himself be moved. Y/N kicked with all her might and managed to roll him onto his back. He sank into the mattress and followed her with hungry eyes while she kicked off her jeans and straddled his trim waist. She pushed down on his dick and he hissed at the damp warmth that passed through his sweats. He kicked his knees up and knocked her forward into his arms.

“Slick,” she teased, tits crushed against his chest.

“What can I say? Some moves never go out of style.” His hands found her ass with a startling slap and he squeezed.

Y/N bit her lip and wiggled against him. “Why don’t you show me a few more?”

His fingers curled into the fleshly globes of her backside and Y/N moaned into his mouth at the sting of his blunt nails.

“My pleasure…”

His heavy touch slid up her spine as their tongues clashed and Ben ripped the shirt from her body with a growl. He snapped at her bra, breaking the clasp with a simple twist of his wrist, and bared his teeth like a wolf as her beautiful tits fell free.

She hovered above him, floating in and out of herself as he explored her flesh with is massive hands and perfect lips. When his hand slid beneath the cotton of her blue panties, Y/N jerked upwards and sat back, cradled by his firm thighs. The tip of his middle finger slipped through the slick line of her pussy and Y/N chewed her lip, her head falling back on her shoulders.

“Please…”

“Begging already?” he teased, pushing his finger in a little deeper. “This is gonna be fun.”

Her eyes snapped open and she glared down at him. “God, I wish I had a gag…”

He clicked his tongue and shoved his finger all the way in. “Kinky. I like it.”

Y/N huffed. “The gag’s for you, asshole.”

Ben smirked and tapped her clit with his thumb, making her shoulders quake.

“Not my thing, sweetheart,” he confessed, carefully watching the arousal flood her brain as he rubbed at her cunt. “But you know what I’d love to do?”

Breathless and vibrating with desire, Y/N struggled to answer. “What’s that?”

Ben bucked his hips and drove another thick finger into her. “I’d love to fill up this sweet little cunt and watch my cum drip down your thighs.”

Her eyes rolled back and her body fluttered around his fingers. “Fuck… please.”

He took in a deep breath. “You want that?”

She moaned, “yeah.”

“To drown in my cum-”

“Yes…”

He curled his fingers inside and sparks erupted behind her eyes. Y/N bore down on his hand and shook as the orgasm ripped through her.

“Gonna stuff a baby in you,” he grit.

Out of breath, she fell down onto his chest, palms slapping his skin. “Yes!”

He growled and she slapped him again, tiny hands no match for his superior flesh. Sitting back up, Y/N rolled her hips down onto his cock and hissed, feeling the hardness through the layers of clothing between them. She panted, jaw dropped and eyes hazy, rocking on her knees, rubbing herself over him.

“Do it,” she begged, nails dragging down the deep ridges of his torso.

He licked his lips and hooked his hands around her hip bones.

She grit her teeth and reached down, striking the side of his face. “Do it!”

Shocked, Ben sucked in a quick breath, eyes wild and impressed.

Again, she moved to slap him, gathering up every ounce of strength to try and make an impact. “I said, do it!” Her arm swung through the air, but Ben caught her wrist at the last second, roughly jerking her to the side and flinging her onto the bed.

He was on her in a flash, rudely yanking at the delicate fabric covering her soaked cunt. She gasped at the sting as the pull of the elastic dug into her skin, and reached up, locking a tight hand at the nape of his neck. She pulled herself up and licked into his mouth, desperate to have every bit of him inside of her.

He kicked legs, tugging down the ruined gray sweats and swiftly fit himself between her thighs. The tip of his cock grazed over her swollen slit and Y/N tossed her head back, eyes mere slits as they stared upwards.

Ben’s upper lip twitched as her heat enveloped him. He went slowly, savoring the first thrust, inching his way into her tight hole.

“Fuck…” Her muscles contracted; entire body pulling in on itself as he invaded. “Do it… show me what being the best feels like.”

The color rose in his face and a slick smirk splayed across his lips. He jerked his hips and slammed all the way in, rocking the metal bedframe into the wall.

Y/N groaned at the feeling, packed full with his incredible cock. “Fuck!”

“That what you wanted?” he asked, face hovering over hers, hair falling down into his glowing eyes. “To be fucked like the little whore you are?”

He pulled out and slammed back in, making her eyes bulge and her breath stop. She clawed at his shoulders, holding on as the pleasure ran through her.

“Yes!” she screamed. “Like the whore I am… fuck!”

The louder she screamed, the harder he thrust. Y/N struggled to hold on, but the force of his movements, the rough piston of his hips knocked her out of her head and she lay limb beneath him, wrecked with pleasure as he tore another orgasm out of her.

She clenched down on him and Ben roared. He pushed up on his massive arms and quickened his pace, fucking her through the spasm as it tugged him to the edge.

“Do it,” she moaned, “fill me up… fucking do it!”

The moment snapped inside of him and Y/N felt him shudder. His body stiffened, his hips locked.

“That’s it,” she whispered, wrapping her legs around him, keeping him in place. “Give it.”

She felt the heat flow into her, heard the sharp, stunted grunt as he came. He pulled out and she shivered feeling a stream of fluid leaking from her aching cunt.

“You’re like a fucking animal,” she gasped, finally able to breathe as he rolled over onto his back.

He tossed an arm behind his head and rubbed the other down his chest, grinning proudly. “Just like riding a bike,” he laughed.

Stunned and a little dizzy, Y/N turned onto her side and stared at him. He had barely broken a sweat, but was still glowing, sated and momentarily amused.

“Was that really your first time in forty years?” she asked, amazed at the pleasure he’d wrung from her body.

Ben looked over and shrugged. “First- yes,” he grinned and reached for her, his giant hand eclipsing the side of her face as he closed in for a kiss. “Last? Not by a long shot…”

If you read this far, please reblog and spread the good word...

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[valentine-writes]

for you!

「 tws + notes: no tws, fluff, not edited, kinda ooc my bad,, im learnin,,, 」

↳ ft. gwen stacy, hobie brown/spider-punk, miguel o'hara/spider-man 2099, miles morales, and pavitr prabhakar

「 gn! reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

author's note: obvi strictly platonic for miles, pav, + gwen but like. anyways!! just practicing writing for them becuz otherwise they will be So OOC for everyone's reqz and i literally would die. highkey struggled a bit but i'm tryin y'all!!! ("trying" but this is unedited ASF) ...eveyone look away from my obvious bias for gwen i heart her. i wanna,, also write for more characters eventually,, sooo,, hc reqs,,, hehehe :3 no full ficz,,, yet-

GWEN STACY headcanons:

▸ she doesn't do friends. not really anymore. oh but like. aside from miles, ur also an exception.

your friendship just kinda. happened?? it was a slow process but eventually y'all got close

▸ you supported her in her band endeavours! u know how knives chau rocks the homemade sex bob-omb merch in scott pilgrim vs the world (sorry 4 being a scott pilgrim fan and referencing it. im battling DEMONS.) THATZ U. biggest supporter for realz!! and she appreciates it so so much :,(

▸ she tries to hold u at arms length initially but ends up missing u too much when ur not around :( you've gotten really close to her over time– something neither of you had expected. but having a friend is refreshing for her. she's secretly always just a little anxious about losing you.

one time, in the middle of your developing friendship, she just kinda... dipped. left you on seen, didn't return your calls– you hadn't seen her in a while. but she came back, apologized profusely (through a lot of stumbled sentences and awkward rambles), and then swore never to do it again. you were... conflicted. so you asked her if anything was wrong and she mustered the courage to be vulnerable with you.

you are probably one of the first people in a long time that she'd actually been able to open up to.

▸ sleepovers where u jus stay up and watch slasher films. idk man i just feel this one in my heart. even if ur not particularly fond of horror, gwen is cool abt it if u need to cover ur eyes or hide under a blanket. y'all are practically screaming at the screen whenever the protagonist makes a dumb choice, acting like the characters can actually hear u

"if you go into that FUCKING BASEMENT I SWEAR–"

"nah– she's doing it. watch. WATCH."

"I CANT"

HOBIE BROWN headcanons:

▸ u are NOT calling this guy hobart. the first time u ever called him that Everyone Else was thrown off. like. no. we gonna stick w/ hobie for this one.

you, however, had the funny little idea of shortening his nickname even further. now sometimes– just on occasion– it's bee.

naturally, he's too cool to care abt what he's called, so he doesn't seem to have too many feelings about your overly cutesy nickname for him.

▸ you know any instruments? great. jam sessions with him. you don't? he'll teach you to play guitar. few ppl are given permission to touch His Guitar... but he can afford to make exceptions.

as he's teaching you, his chest collides against ur back a couple times, his hands guiding yours. he'll gently guide your fingers on the fretboard and yeah it's like– maybe not the most efficient way to learn. but whatever. he's pretty good with helping you figure it out.

▸ if you express wanting a piercing, tattoo or wanting to change up your hair (dying it, cutting it, whatever–) he's immediately gonna be like. "yea? ok. bathroom. right now." he'll help you out. king of diy truly.

and hey, the piercings never get infected, the stick and pokes turn out fine, the haircuts never look that bad, and the hair dye doesn't turn out awful so like. win???

supports you in your impulsive choices– piercings can close, diy tattoos fade, hair can grow– but the joy of self expression iz 4eva!!!!

▸ he lets you steal clothes from him. totally will point it out, but won't be all that bothered by it. HE'S GONNA BE TAKING FROM UR CLOSET TOO you practically share a wardrobe at this point. the others slowly become unable to differentiate which clothes you and hobie own individually. even if your wardrobes are completely different– trust he will find a way to keep a small piece of you with him

MIGUEL O'HARA headcanons:

▸ this man is emotionally distant asf. how did you achieve this relationship with him. answer: no clue!!! (｡･･｡) now that ur tight w/ him i am begging you. for the sake of the multiverse. get this man a therapy consultation RIGHT NEOWWW..... they literally have therapy services available in the spider society hq. if you dont HAUL HIS ASS OVER THERE–

▸ it's really no secret miguel has a soft spot for you. though he is very adamant about the fact that he doesn't– most people know that he's a little less grumpy with you around.

you seem to be one of the only people who can actually make him smile. which is. crazy. the first time he ever laughed at a joke you made you just kinda froze and stared at him, wondering if you had just vividly hallucinated miguel being happy. it was a light chuckle, where he kinda,, put his hand over his mouth and looked away. but it was SHOCKINGGG

▸ if you managed to get along with miguel, you're probably also besties with lyla. miguel however does not enjoy this. mainly because you two gang up on him. a lot. aka whenever ur arguing about anything w/ miguel, lyla is more likely to take your side. for funzies!!! she calls you her favourite– and it's like. man. are you getting along with miguel just for his little hologram assistant? i would but im gon shut my mouth on this one

it's funny how easily u two get along. she has officially attached all his bank info to ur online shopping accs and gaming shit. go wild. he'll never know (he finds out.. eventually.)

▸ it's actually really weird how you affect him. and everyone's noticing. he's constantly overworking himself to preserve the safety of the multiverse and when he's not, he's reminiscing on the past- but you give him something that he hasn't had in a while- an actual break. you pull him away from his responsibilities, from the screens he gazes into for so long, and for once he can relax. even if it's just for a minute

MILES MORALES headcanons:

▸ i saw hcs of a friendship w/ miles like gumball and darwin and i literally cannot get it out of my head. y'all r tight like that!!!! itz canon now. considering miles doesn't have a lotta friends (in his universe, at least) he's glad to have you!!! you're probably one of the people he hangs around the most. if you're somewhere, miles is probably somewhere around you too. and if he is not? he's probably just late. spiderman-ing around nyc probably

▸ his parents have really grown to like you too!!! let's assume u dont pull a gwen and address them by their first names. (i love her so much no shade at all but PLEADYUWEGFEHF that was So White of her) miles always has you over to hang out– which usually means you're invited to have dinner with them. his mom especially is always makin sure ur feeling at home and u got enough on ur plate (she is so sweet i adore her)

miles is constantly hearing: "when are they coming over again? you haven't had them over in a while-" rio hearts u. (and i heart rio.)

▸ STREET ART WITH MILES STREET ART WITH MILES– he def taught u what he learned from his uncle aaron. eventually u found a place you two can spray paint 2gether and u go w/ him whenever u need to destress a bit ^_^ it doesn't matter what ur skill level is in art, he's happy to teach you! sometimes, for practice, he'll even draw you!!! and though he hasn't shown you yet,,, he's been comfortable enough w/ you to leave his sketchbook open when you're around

▸ ALSO!! your hangouts probably have a killer soundtrack. u share a collaborative playlist w/ miles and swap recommendations every so often– so whenever ur both 2gether and jus chilling you've got good music 2 blast which is a combo of both ur tastes!!! he probably loves ur music, even if itz something he doesn't typically listen to. it's jus so you.

▸U ARE HIS CANVAS NOW. if u let him, he'll doodle in pen on your arm. he's always so focused, his eyes fixed on your skin as he doodles all over your forearm and hand. his grip is gentle as he turns your arm, tilting it every so often to make sure it looks right. there is no awkward silence, no pressure to make conversation- the quiet shared is comforting.

eventually he runs out of space and blinks up at you,, almost forgetting who he was drawing on. he'll apologize for getting so carried- but his drawings look amazing.

...and then he realized it was permanent marker and immediately doubled his apologizes.

PAVITR PRABHAKAR headcanons:

▸ im going to put this here and i dont know why specifically this came to mind. but never play just dance with him. you will LOSE. one of thse people who don't have to try to win. but he WILL put his 100% in it and eat you UPPPP.

sorry u can't outdo him </3

like bro those moves AREN'T EVEN PART OF THIS DANCE HOW ARE YOU STILL WINNING???

▸ gym bro but not Insane Gym Bro just.... gym bro. will try to get you to workout with him,, but like. cool if you don't wanna! is the most supportive gym buddy to have though. will always encourage you throughout the entire thing and not even just to get you to push through a set- this boy genuinely jus believes in you so much.

▸ he's constantly talking to you about gayatri. he loves his gf sm. if ur one of those people who Don't Like hearing abt other ppls relationships he'll make an attempt to tone it down

but trust he NEVER. EVER. makes you third wheel them. gayatri also will make sure of this- so now... more than often... if you're tryin' to hang with the both of them- THEY BOTH TRY TO PLAY MATCHMAKER FOR YOU.

LIKE. you can't just be LONELY. they're gonna make sure of it. pav and gaytri number one wingmen,..,, women,,, besties

▸ probably texts u like crazy. the type of guy to send u things throughout the day like "this is so you :]" he loves his bestie (YOU!!!)

sometimes it's like,, a particularly interestingly shaped cloud. maybe a cool bug that landed nearby him. a flower growing out of the pavement cracks.

and then sometimes it's like. this.

"this is you."

[thottyimagines]

What are the Konoha 12’s favorite reality TV shows? You can literally say anything from Dance Moms to Kitchen Nightmares, I just need to know what you think 😭 Love your work btw <3

Thank you!

Naruto loves Jersey Shore Family Vacation, specifically, because he really likes that these crazy party animals have grown up to have wholesome family fun. That they are still crazy and spend entire episodes yelling at each other, just now they sometimes disappear for a while to go hang out with their kids, does not occur to him.

Sasuke doesn't watch reality tv. At least, not after the time he got sucked into a Toddlers & Tiaras marathon and walked away four hours later thinking of Itachi with absolute pity for reasons he still can't quite explain or understand.

Sakura likes watching Bad Girls Club; she takes notes during both verbal and physical altercations.

Kiba is a reality tv connoisseur, and it's not even a little bit because of his sister. He can talk to anyone about their favorites, because he's seen at least a handful of episodes of any show he can get his hands on. If he had to pick, his favorite would be Love Island. Most of his slang comes from there.

Hinata likes Love is Blind, even if it saddens her that her Byakugan would surely disqualify her from ever being a contestant herself. But she would (a) totally never cheat and (b) absolutely never try to be on reality tv, lest she get picked and die of shame.

Shino has been watching RuPaul's Drag Race religiously for longer than he'd care to admit. He watches Untucked, too, because one thing about Shino is that he wants to know the dirty details.

Shikamaru isn't big on most reality tv, but he stumbled upon The Circle and turned watching it into some sort of weird mental exercise on picking apart human social intricacies. He's getting frighteningly good at figuring out exactly how entire seasons are going to play out, down to the order of eliminations.

Ino is a die-hard Bachelor fan. She's weirdly very good at picking out who the winner is going to be by the end of the first night, but Sakura tells herself Ino is just somehow rigging the bachelor fantasy league year after year.

Choji watches Hell's Kitchen. He would never want to be on the receiving end of Gordon Ramsay's ire, but he also feels secure in the knowledge that he'd never be anything but the top dog in that kitchen.

Neji spits on reality tv! What is he, a moron? Anyway, if he walks by Hinata watching Love is Blind, he's lingering in front of the tv with his hands on his hips and a vacant expression on his face until the end of the episode, at the very least.

Tenten likes America's (Konoha's?) Next Top Model, and her favorite episode is always the makeover one. She's equally thrilled by the good and bad haircuts, but looks down on anyone who cries.

Rock Lee is inspired to work hard and be his best by Project Runway each and every time he tunes in. He's never seen the contestants create anything quite so glorious as his Jumpsuit, of course, but it's been a near thing on a few memorable occasions.

[apoptoses]

Character building questions for Daniel please, if you're in the mood for answering

What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

If invited to a TED Talk, what topic would they present on? What would the title of their presentation be?

What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

Wow, I think there's such a progression for this one. Like the answer would change over time right?

I think Armand really nailed it with his description of Daniel in that basement: the violet eyes, the naive sort of beauty. The perennially young sort face where he could pass for a student even after thirty. I think that's part of what made him a good interviewer in the first place, looking pretty and gentle and young. People would look at that sort of face and trust him right off the bat.

But I think Daniel sees the changes in his body. The dark circles under his eyes first, the lines around his mouth from chainsmoking away the stress of the chase years. His hair starting to curl just behind his ears because he's been on the run for a while and fuck, who can bother with a haircut when they're not sure if they're going to be lectured or killed by the thing that's chasing them?

And it gets a little better after Pompeii. He's trying to develop a sleep schedule, he's catching up on rest. And the blood wipes away some of the exhaustion on his face. It gives his skin a flushed look when Armand lets him drink, keeps him from looking too pallid. Staying up all night has left him pale. His mom would be aghast seeing him like this, without any sun on his cheeks or tanlines on his upper arms.

But the blood gives and the blood takes away. It dries up his hunger, makes it hard to sleep. He looks in the mirror at their new Villa in Miami and notices his cheeks are getting hollow. He looks like one of those guys on speed, haunted but too awake at the same time.

And then there's aging. He's only 30, he's not old. But he finds a grey hair, notices the very beginning of crow's feet at the corner of his eye and panics at the reminder that if this goes on he will get old.

It hits rock bottom when the running starts and he's taking care of himself less. His stubble is becoming a beard. The alcohol has his skin looking like shit. He knows when people look at him they wonder what's wrong with him and when he looks in the mirror Daniel wonders what's wrong with himself.

So being turned- it's jarring, winding back the clock like that. He gets on the plane looking like a relic of himself and gets off as fresh faced as the boy who'd first interviewed Louis. Paler, sure, and with his nails looking like glass. But Daniel has filled back out like it all never happened and when he looks in the mirror he can't look away, because were those other raggedy guys he saw for years really him?

And people go back to looking at him the way they did before. Pretty, youthful, trustworthy. Just now if Daniel looks at them too intently they get lost in his violet eyes and look drugged by the sight of him, the way he felt lost in the sight of Louis once.

If the body deteriorated to the edge of death and then overnight returned to its 20-something splendor, is it really the same body at all? Is this a ship of Theseus problem? Daniel can never really decide.

(And maybe if Gabrielle wasn't so wretched he'd ask her, she'd be the only one who'd really understand what with how she was being consumed by illness and then brought back to splendor but fuck, she scares him)

So I think it's complicated for Daniel in his own way. The mirror reflected the outer effects of his inner turmoil and made it inescapable, and now it reflects his victory. But even that isn't cut and dry- sometimes it's surreal and he can't look for long.

[thelostgirl21]

I'm late to the party like you wouldn't believe, but I've got to say something, because I'm so upset!

Okay, unpopular opinion, I actually loved Jaskier's Season 3 hair!

Was it always perfectly styled? No. There were a few scenes where I personally thought it could have used a bit more volume, or a bit more volume in some places while a bit less in others; but, most or the time, I was more than fine with it, and thought it suited Jaskier well!

At times, I literally adored it!

Ex:

To me, those are moments where I thought Jaskier looked his best in the series! Loved the hair!

Then again, personally, I tend to prefer Joey's looks with his forehead cleared and his hair longer.

Like, this is I think one of the most gorgeous non-feral hairstyles I've ever seen on him:

(X)

This is an absolutely gorgeous man, and I personally prefer his hair styled like this than short.

(Note: I'm not saying he's not beautiful with short hair, too, simply stating personal preferences. Certain aesthetic choices are based on comfort, too, and he can 100% afford to sacrifice the "long haired look" for something that makes him feel more comfortable. He can rock plenty of different looks!)

Then, of course, there's the feral look that is just in its own category...

So why am I upset?

I've just found out that he didn't wear a wig in Season 3!

That Jaskier's Season 3 hair were simply Joey's own hair that he had decided to grow out.

And look, I'm fine with everyone having preferences!

That's not my issue. Having your own tastes and not being a fan of Joey's Season 3 hairstyle is not the issue at all!

There were posts simply mentioning that they hated that it looked so flat, when we could have been graced with something a bit more like this:

And I do get preferences when it comes to styling.

It's just that I recall how - since people assumed it was "an ugly wig" that had been forced on his head by the wig department, rather than what they considered "a bad hairstyle" - the comments on "Jaskier's hair" were at times downright nasty!

And I just gotta get out of my system that those of you that have been literally making fun of his "sudden 4-inches receeding hairline" (first I'll have you know I find receeding hairline pretty hot!), when it's kinda remained the same for 3 seasons (it's called BANGS people. Joey tends to wear those with his shorter haircuts! Look it up!), for example, really suck!

His hairline has always gone pretty far up on each side, even in some of his earlier work... Ex: Gopher in "Mount Pleasant" (2016):

Like he's got very thick hair that form a "V" shape at the top (my mom had that, but I didn't inherit it... And we've got tons of hair... Like, a lot! * ) and a pretty large forehead.

*

(That's me at 18, and then at 28 - before I brought them back to a lower back length - but my mom is the same in terms of thickness, she just has that V in the front I lack, and it never receeded any further in her life.)

And there would be no shame in having thin hair, or any form of baldness anyway!

So yeah! I remember sort of heavily ignoring all those "ugly wig" comments because I, too, had assumed it was a wig (turns out Joey's hair seem to be a bit like mine, and grow pretty fast), and at some point you choose your battles.

Did I think a bunch of you were immature assholes for needing to hate on that "ugly wig" so much? Yes. But you find those in any fandom!

Personally, I thought "the wig" was awesome!

But now, I kinda regret not having taken the time to be more supportive of Jaskier's Season's 3 hair given I actually like it...

Because that's just a (very sweet) human being's hair, that was styled in a way that a number of people didn't like.

Again, zero problem for those that thought it was badly styled, and that the look didn't suit Jaskier!

Critiquing what you find a "bad hairstyle" is no cause for shame!

But, for those of you that took it to the next level with all those "ugly wig" comments, you fucking suck, I sure hope you've since found out that you'd been openly ridiculing a fellow human being's real hair, that it makes you feel like complete pieces of shit, and that feeling like complete pieces of shit is going to help you learn from your mistakes, before you start attacking other people's personal physical features in the future!

"Well, I didn't know!"

Here's today's lesson:

When you don't know, please kindly shut up and assume the hair you see is the real thing!

Or critique the wig like you would a real hairstyle, asking yourself "Hmm... Is describing someone's real hair the way I do going to make me sound like a bully?"

Like I said, I'm aware I'm pretty late to the party, but the the kid in me that got heavily bullied in school over her own hair really needed to get it out of her system!

[the-three-last-brain-cells]

Oh boy, you made a mistake in asking for character design headcanons. I will go insane if you don't stop me. I'm gonna make this be small text so the ask doesn't get too long.

First of all: Hair. Because not even the authors seem to be able to agree on that. I might send more asks on other topics, so beware.

Peter has the messiest hair. Partially because it's messy by nature (it's that sort of hair that just does not cooperate), partially because he's out surfing so much and the salt in the air at the ocean does things to your hair. Speaking from experience. I don’t really know how to describe it but it gets slightly wet from the air droplets and also firmer and more textured so it kinda stays wherever you brush it to? Kinda like hairspray or gel put kinda not? Anyway. I would love to say Peter has soft hair, but no. Not with how much saltwater it gets into contact with. Saltwater is not kind to your hair. Also, his hair is reddish-brown and moderately straight but probably gets a little wavier when met with ocean spray air (once again, speaking from experience). Probably outgrown haircuts from time to time.

Justus has somewhat floofy hair, but it's definitely not as floofy as Bob's. Our beloved Erster probably puts a bit of effort into how he looks but not too much. Definitely doesn't miss hairdresser appointments because he needs his hair to look organized because everything else just icks him. Black hair, maybe slightly to not-so-slightly wavy.

Bob, my beloved! Curly blonde hair and lots of floof. I imagine it's a moderately light blonde, in any case lighter than Jelena's. Takes to styling his hair from time to time but his hair doesn't listen, so he just starts wearing it naturally and absolutely rocking it. I can’t decide whether his or Justus's hair is softer but both are definitely soft. Also, not entirely hair-related headcanon BUT: Bob has tiny scars at the back of his head from his various concussions and if you run your fingers through his hair and look for them, you can feel them.

Skinny, in my head, is blonde, but his hair is bleached blonde and not naturally blonde. I imagine he probably plays around with hair dyes and so you can find leftover traces of those in his hair from time to time. Pretty messy hair but that's because he doesn't brush it. He thinks it's cool. The general vibe is: Tries so hard to look rebellious™ and cool that it ends up being not cool.

And finally (because I'm me and I can't help myself): Jelena. Jelena has straight, dirty blonde hair that goes until about her chest/just below her shoulder blades. She experimented with bangs/curtain bangs for a bit and they're growing out now, which looks a bit messy from time to time if she doesn't feel like pinning those stray hairs back. But otherwise, she takes good care of her hair. Very soft but not very shiny.

There we go, long ask over! Hope this is what you wanted...

EXACTLY WHAT I WANTED YES YES L, danke! Vor allem Peter's Salz-haar situation und Bob's Narben.... very very good

[maletf32]

Perfect Cut

It had been a while since you had gotten a haircut. Looking in the mirror, you couldn’t believe how long it was getting! Your thick and dense hair was sticking out in almost every direction. You had to admit it.. you needed a haircut.

Luckily, you remember a new one had been built just down the street from you. You’ve never really had a barber you’ve stuck with, guess you’re just picky with how you hair looks! This new place looked promising though, and it wouldn’t hurt to try it once.

You walk in, the place seemingly empty as you suppose it just opened. There was only one barber there.

“Hey there handsome!” the barber says. “What can I do for you?”

“Just a trim please, you say. He gestures to the seat in front of him. You sit down, and he drapes the cloth over you, hand brushing against your side.

“You’ve got a lot of hair boy! Don’t worry, I’ll have you looking much more clean cut in no time!”

He starts to cut your hair, it falling down around you onto the floor. It felt nice, the admittedly sexy older guy. His hands were almost caressing your head as he slowly trimmed down your hair to a more suitable length.

You look in the mirror, watching the barber work away at your hair. He was clearly focused, making sure that you walked away with the perfect cut. You close your eyes, letting him do his magic. 

Suddenly you feel a wetness on your head, as cool misted water is sprayed all over your head. He starts massaging your head, applying some shampoo. You can smell the sweet yet masculine scent as it permeates your skull.

“Enjoying that? I know it’s your favorite!” the barber chuckles.

Your.. favorite? Hadn’t you just met this guy? Maybe you had actually been here before but just forgot. Also he was right, this was your favorite shampoo.

“Now onto the beard huh hun? We gotta keep it looking nice!”

Before you could say you didn’t have a beard, he was already trimming it. Small black and grey hairs getting cut as he sculpts your face. Soon you are left with a nice salt and pepper beard adorning your face. Before you could protest, say something was wrong, he turns on a razor. The hum getting closer, somehow drowning out any thoughts you were having.

“Just one last thing we gotta do; give you a nice shaven head I know my husband loves!”

He brings the razor to your head, gently shaving of the last strands of your hair. As they fall, you head gets emptier and emptier, unable to think of much but the here and now.

As your brain drains, someone else fills it up. Whispers of love, tenderness, and masculinity. Of how much of a great devoted husband you were, married for thirty years now. Of how much he loved your body, how big, hairy and muscular you were. How we loved to maintain your hair, perfect beard and dome just the way you both liked it.

“Think I’m all done!” your husband says, bringing you out of your reverie. “Why don’t you take a look at yourself.”

He turns you to a mirror, and for a second you don’t recognize the hirsute man in the reflection.

Bald, fat, hairy, old. But it only takes a second for you to realize it is you; a proper man just like your husband. You rubbed your hand across you head, the chest and belly, resting in finally at your crotch. It felt like the first time you’ve ever felt this body, but you knew that wasn’t true.

“So how’d I do?” Richard laughs, giving you a kiss on the cheek, making your two beards bristle against one another.

“Perfect!” you say with a grin. You’ve been together so long, he always knows how to style his man.

“Seems like you still need some.. help?” Richard says, glancing down. You hadn’t even realized it, but all that touching, whispering, and kissing has got you hard as a rock, your fat cock pushing up against your belly.

You grin, following him to the back room to have some fun before more customers came in. There was another thing he knew how to do; please his man. You shut the door as your husband strips for you, soon both of you are on top of each other like you’d been apart for ages. Both your fat dicks pushing against the other’s, beards meshing as you make out.

It didn’t take long till he was ramming your fat ass, deep moans echoing throughout the office, until suddenly he cums deep in you, you yourself splattering onto your hairy belly.

You get dressed, ready to go back and keep the house in order while your husband makes all the money at his barber shop. 

“See you back at home babe.” you say, giving him a quick peck, leaving though the back entrance. 

God you had a perfect husband; you wouldn’t have anyone else.

[omegalomania]

highlights from the virtual signing joe did back before his book tour, cause i havent seen anyone talk about it yet:

ppl who participated in the signing got to do a sweepstakes for a merch package and when the spokesperson was showing it off joe was like "and it's got a LOCKPICK and a GARROTE and a BALACLAVA so just DO WHATEVER DAMAGE YOU LIKE"

he introduced black flag, his favorite band, to his daughter and she thought it sounded terrible lkdfjldjfkd

when fob went to induct green day at the hall of fame joe mentions smoking weed with joan jett and miley cyrus. icon.

he regrets not having better tools to deal with his anxiety about touring and worrying about how every time he got in the van he'd be leaving home. "...and i wish i had, instead of looking out the back window, looked toward the front of the van and realized i was with four or five of my best friends and that i was in safe company."

re: the rest of the band, "they are like brothers, at the end of the day. it's a brotherly relationship."

his 8 year old begs him to watch horror movies and r-rated movies with him and he tells her she can watch them when she's 30

"let's talk about music. nothing better than talking about music. don't listen to it. just talk about it."

when asked about his proudest accomplishment: "i love all my children equally. but here's the reality. i am SO proud of fall out boy because it's a gigantic band that i started as a teenager. we just did stadium shows supporting GREEN DAY."

he's also super proud of the damned things and how honored he was that scott ian from anthrax, one of his personal heroes, trusted him to do so much writing

the interviewer goes, "all right here's a softball" and joe goes, "SOFT ME. uh, what?"

his favorite guitar is his 1965 reverse-body gibson firebird

his favorite transformer is grimlock

this question was supposed to be a lightning round but when asked "nintendo or sega" he says nintendo and then spends about 3 minutes talking abt punchout and then rattling off obscure sonic trivia. i love him.

his favorite video game is final fantasy 7. he says he "nearly flunked" out of middle school because of it.

he has a hard time picking a favorite horror movie since he loves horror but he picks "texas chainsaw massacre" as the one that affected him the most. he also recommends "anything for jackson" because it will "give you nightmares, if you are interested in having nightmares"

his favorite star wars character is yoda because his wisdom applies to real life very frequently

a fan-submitted question talked about with knives and how much the fan liked his vocals and both the interviewer and joe smiled REALLY big!!!!

sadly he doesn't like singing that much cause he doesn't like his voice. also he says fall out boy has a really good singer already. but he won't rule out doing some solo venture and recording super distorted vocals someday

re: what he wants to be remembered for the most - "having a sick bod, man."

"no, genuinely, i want my children to remember me as a good father. that's like the truth. and for having a sick bod."

he really doesn't hold any grudges about the hazing he got in the early days of touring because it was an initiation ritual and it weathered him quickly to touring life. he doesn't think people could get away with it now though.

"if you're gonna punch somebody though, do it when they're not looking"

re: favorite song to play live - "i don't care" because it "Just Rocks." and it's really fun!

his bluetooth in his car started playing "of all the gin joints in the world" and he texted patrick about how good of a song it was and how it'd be nice to play it live again

"as the kids maybe used to say, it SLAPS." brief discussion regarding the difference between a bop and a slap.

currently most of his musical ambitions lie in whatever fall out boy will do next

he tried scoring and composing for commercials and the like and he found that he really does not like it that much

he apologizes for not getting a haircut before the livestream. "this is just how i am, sloppy and unpresentable." (note: he was doing this livestream after a 13-hour flight from rock in rio in brazil)