#it’s him doing the opposite of his nature

[whowritessometimes]

Back and Forth - Art Donaldson x Reader

A Stanford!Art Donaldson and Stanford!Reader fic :) Kinda slow burn, very soft very sweet.

Word Count: 3.9k

---

The California summer sun beamed down on the court, making the colors of the advertisements and signs around you appear almost neon. Upbeat music flowed through speakers that you couldn't quite place, embodying the feeling of the tennis matches that surrounded you, the back-and-forth beat pulsating through your head. It was almost overstimulating, but this was your normal.

You were pre-med at Stanford, volunteering at some local tennis camp to fill your summer and add fodder to your resume. You didn't do much, occasionally helping some rich, pompous kid stretch out their wrist, or their knee, or their ankle, or whatever. The days blurred together, they all spoke to you in the same condescending way. For most people, it would be mind-numbing.

But it was exhilarating. You had this intrinsic love for tennis, you always had. Perhaps it was that love that led you to signing up for this gig, and not the resume experience. But you would never admit that to anyone. You had played tennis for fun your whole life, with your family growing up, with your friends in high school. It was only when you shattered your wrist sophomore year that you had to stop.

It sucked. It sucked at the time, and it sucked now. You weren't professional-level at tennis, not like these people, but it was nice to have a hobby unlike anything else people expected you to do. The pre-med thing, the reading, the studying, it came naturally to you. And it wasn't like you didn't enjoy it, and it wasn't like you weren't good at it, but you loved tennis. And every now and again, you missed it.

So here you were. Your head followed all the heads in the crowd in a practiced, synchronized, subconscious back-and-forth. There wasn't really ever a crowd, the games at the program were often informal, the audience often consisted of coaches and other players. But this was a unique match, Stanford's players engaged in a captivating display of athleticism. It was almost like a dance, the way they seemed to know the moves of the other before they made them. You could feel the intensity from your tent by the end of the bleachers.

Stanford's star player (well, one of them)—Art Donaldson. You'd half-watched him play from your tent whenever you weren't working. He was elusive, but undoubtably one of the best there. You had never spoken. He was enigmatic, focused on his training and on helping others. He had perfect technique, people said. Now, you had the chance to really see how he was. And he was. Top of his game.

Usually.

The air was thick with humidity. Your gaze flickered between the players, boredom warring with the gnawing anxiety that always hummed beneath the surface during matches. Then, a sound sliced through the rhythmic thwack of the tennis balls—a sharp cry of pain.

Your head snapped left like a whip, your heart leaping into your throat. There, sprawled on the opposite side of the net, lay Art. His face was contorted in agony, one hand clutching his ankle at an unnatural angle. His racket lay a few feet away, as forgotten as the polite pleasantries that had filled the air before the match.

The shitty plastic chair beneath you creaked in protest as you scrambled to your feet. Ignoring the surprised yelp from the equally shitty excuse for a supervisor you'd been assigned for the summer tennis program, you sprinted across the court. Dust billowed in your wake, blurring the vision that was already swimming with a mix of dread and the adrenaline rush that always came with seeing someone hurt.

You skidded to a halt beside him, kneeling. His eyes, usually bright with playful competitiveness, were screwed shut, teeth clenched as he fought back a string of obscenities you knew all too well.

"Hey," you said, forcing your voice to remain calm despite the tremor running through your body. He flinched at the sound of your voice, a flicker of something akin to fear crossing his normally confident expression.

"Hey," he managed to rasp out, opening one eye a sliver. He tried to push himself up, but his face crumpled again as a fresh wave of agony shot through him.

"Don't move," you ordered, the calmness in your voice surprising even you. You reached out, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. His skin was slick with sweat, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from his injured ankle.

"'S bad, huh?" he breathed, a flicker of vulnerability in his voice.

The concern in his eyes sent a jolt through you. It wasn't just the pain; it was the fear.

"Don't worry," you said, your voice softer now, "We'll get you checked out. Just...hold still."

Ignoring the sting of sweat in your eyes, you carefully slipped your arm around his waist, offering what little support your slight frame could provide. Heaving him halfway onto your leg, you began the slow, agonizing walk towards the medical tent. Each step sent a spike of pain through Art's leg, reflected in the way he gritted his teeth and winced with every movement.

The supervisor, finally spurred into action, scurried behind you, muttering something about ice packs and paramedics. But your focus remained solely on Art, on getting him to help as quickly as possible.

You knew what it was like. Maybe that's what spurred your immediate action, your need to help him recover, to keep playing. You knew what it was like.

The antiseptic sting of the medical tent assaulted your nose as you hovered beside the injured player. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he clenched his jaw with each prod from the trainer.

"Think they all saw that?" he finally rasped, a hint of amusement battling the pain in his voice. You blinked, surprised by his oddly timed humor.

"Doubt it," you played along, a small smile tugging at your lips. "'S not like you're Art Donaldson or anything."

A sheepish grin replaced his grimace. "Thank god."

The trainer finished his work, leaving you and the injured player alone in a tense silence. He cleared his throat, his gaze meeting yours for the first time.

"So," he began, trailing off as he stared into the ceiling of the tent. There was something in his expression, the physical pain, the fear that comes with injury, the odd quiet of an unfinished game.

"So," you mimicked, sitting next to him in another shitty chair.

Something hung in the air, something all too familiar to you. He turned his head to look at you, to make eye contact, keeping his body flat on the cot. You realized then how close you were. Close enough to see his eyes, the sharp point of his jawline, the strawberry blond of his curls.

You averted your gaze, looking out into the brightness of the tent entrance. The typical ambiance of the outside seemed to be drowned by the odd intimacy you'd created together, the silence between you and Art seemed to be the only noise you could hear. His shoddy breathing, despite his attempts to pretend he was okay, only brought you back to when you felt the same way he did, all those years ago.

A blush crept up your neck. You fumbled for something, anything, to break the charged silence in the tent. "I, uh, broke my wrist sophomore year," you blurted, surprised by the words leaving your lips. "Tennis, ironically. One minute I'm playing—probably terribly—and then I'm in the ER holding a bag of frozen peas. And, I don't know, I guess I'm just saying... I get it. Sort of."

"You trying to distract me?" he asked, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah," you admitted, a hesitant smile mirroring his. "Is it working?"

"Yeah, actually," he conceded, leaning back on the cot. "Tell me more."

You felt a genuine laugh bubble up from your chest, the first since the moment you saw him crumpled on the court.

---

And that was really the last time you saw Art. Suffice to say you hadn't forgotten about the encounter. It was actually stupid, how often you thought of it. He didn't even know your name, but you remembered the timbre of his voice, the softness of his gaze.

In your defense, he was hard to avoid. Now that the spring semester had started, tennis season was in full swing. His picture was plastered around the most of the facilities you frequented, future NCAA champion Art Donaldson.

The scent of freshly cut grass and blooming jasmine hung heavy in the crisp California air as you hurried across the bustling Stanford campus. The semester had sprung with a vengeance, bringing with it the usual flurry of activity—overloaded backpacks, animated discussions about last night's party, and the ever-present anxiety of looming deadlines.

Today, however, an extra weight sat on your shoulders. Your pre-med advisor dropped a last-minute surprise: mandatory tutoring for a struggling athlete. Juggling med school coursework with a part-time job at the campus health center was already a tightrope walk, and adding this felt like a precarious extra step. But you managed it, as you did most things. How you had some semblance of a social life was a mystery. And maybe your very obvious lack of a love life was why you thought about Art so often. You didn't have time to psychoanalyze yourself, though. You barely had time for whatever this tutoring session was about to be.

Reaching the designated classroom, a small, windowless space usually reserved for last-minute group study sessions, you took a deep breath before pushing open the heavy door. The sterile light inside momentarily blinded you, but as your eyes adjusted, a sight unfolded that caused your breath to hitch in your throat. Sprawled across a cluttered table, papers piled haphazardly around him, was a man who you'd spent the better part of the last few months thinking about.

There, unmistakably, was Art. His signature strawberry blond hair, slightly longer than you remembered, covered with a backwards baseball cap, curled at the edges, framing his face. A deep furrow creased his brow, a testament to the frustration radiating from his hunched form as he focused on a massive biology textbook. An unsettling warmth bloomed in your chest, a reaction entirely too potent for a tutoring session.

The memory of him sprawled on the opposite side of the tennis court last summer, his ankle twisted at an unnatural angle, flickered across your mind. The panic that had gripped you then seemed almost comical now. The sterile environment and the way his eyes had held a curious blend of pain and something else—gratitude, maybe?—all formed a vivid memory you hadn't realized had imprinted itself so deeply.

His presence filled the small room, unexpectedly stealing your breath and injecting a jolt of something entirely different into the monotonous routine of your day. A shyness spread across your face, tinged with an unfamiliar nervousness as you cleared your throat, the sound echoing awkwardly in the sudden silence.

A slow smile took over his features as he looked at you, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. For a moment, you were caught in that smile, a memory resurfacing from the hazy days of summer.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice warm. He reached a toned arm, pulling out a chair for you.

"Hi," you blinked, momentarily flustered by the gesture and the echo of familiarity in his voice. There was a moment of tension in the air, of uncertainty, of a strange sense of reconnection. Finally, you managed to force out the words, "How are you?"

"My ankle's a lot better now, if that's what you're asking," he replied with a playful glint in his eyes. His gaze lingered on you for a beat too long, making you hyperaware of the way your heart hammered against your ribs.

"You remember me?" you blurted out, the question leaving your lips before you could stop it.

"Course I remember you," he said, his voice laced with amusement. You couldn't ignore the way his eyes flickered from your face down to your body, and back up. Blatantly checking you out. And you could hear his smile in the way he spoke, warm and genuine, sending a familiar flutter through your stomach. The memory of his teasing laughter in the sterile medical tent resurfaced.

"Right," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. You shifted in your chair, suddenly hyperaware of the weight of his gaze on you.

The next hour or so unfolded in a way that surprised you both. Art's initial confusion melted away as you hovered next to him, animatedly explaining each concept. Social life, love life, Art Donaldson, you couldn't explain. Biology, medical stuff, sports, you understood.

And he was beginning to as well. Time became a forgotten entity, measured only by the turning of pages and the occasional frustrated groan from Art. He wasn't the cocky athlete you'd half-imagined, but someone with a genuine curiosity about the world around him and some kind of depth hidden beneath his confident facade on the court.

Finally, Art leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "We should probably call it," he declared, stretching his arms above his head with a satisfied groan. He thanked you, looking into your eyes as he said your name, the syllables dancing off his tongue in a way that made you feel like it was more than a word you had offhandedly mentioned to him.

"Yeah, sure," you replied, your voice softer than you intended.

The study sessions became a regular occurrence. The two of you exchanged numbers, only to arrange meetings, you reminded yourself.

But whenever he called, you found yourself talking about so much more than biology. It started with him asking how you were, a simple courtesy that somehow felt more genuine coming from him. Yet, as you replied, a comfortable ease would settle in. You'd find yourself laughing at inside jokes, dumb stories, the kind that wouldn't be particularly funny to anyone else, would mindlessly tumble out, fueled by the comfort you felt in his presence. It was a kind of nonsense, a space where you could just be yourself, and somehow, it felt like everything and nothing all at once.

---

Now, it was late, and it was finals week.

Papers and textbooks were scattered across your desk, a battlefield of scribbled notes and highlighted passages. You were in the trenches, neck-deep in the intricacies of biochemistry, desperately trying to cram information into your sleep-deprived brain.

Suddenly, the familiar buzz of your phone cut through the silence of your cramped dorm. You fished it out of your pocket, a flicker of annoyance battling with the ever-present hope that it might be a break, a distraction from the relentless onslaught of scientific jargon. Gratefulness shot through you when you saw Art Donaldson's name on the screen.

You answered the call. His voice crackled through the phone, laced with desperation. "I need your help," he blurted out, completely unlike his usual easygoing self. "What the fuck is molecular cell biology?"

You couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "In general?" you replied, already picturing the hours that it would take to explain the subject. Finals be damned, apparently.

"Can you just come over?" he groaned. "If you aren't doing anything."

You glanced back at the flashcards on your desk. "I'm not doing anything."

So here you were, knocking on the door of Art Donaldson's dorm. You heard rustling from the other side, making you wait just a beat longer in the dimly lit hallway. You rocked back and forth on your heels, chewing the inside of your cheek and rethinking your current appearance. The oversized Stanford hoodie, mess of your hair, and lack of makeup now seemed ill-fitting for a meeting with the boy who had somehow winded his way into becoming your crush. You felt like a kid again, back in high school.

You were starting to worry you had the wrong room until the door swung open, bathing the hallway in a golden, hazy light. There stood Art, moving his large frame out of the way to gesture you into his room with a short greeting and a "thank god." You didn't know what you expected, really, but there you were, slinking a little too closely past him as he stood in his doorframe. You felt his breath on the back of your neck as he stood behind you, guiding you to his tiny desk in the corner of the room. His hands ghosted over the small of your back, and you felt his warmth, despite him not actually touching you.

The room itself was small. It wasn't unlike yours, or any of the others on campus. But it somehow felt smaller with Art next to you, burying his face in his hands every time you patiently explained a concept you'd gone over already. His face. He was so close to you now, the quiet of the night and the room only making you feel closer.

The energy of this study session felt so different from all your others in the past. You weren't in a classroom, or meeting him after practice in the library. You were seeing another side of Art, the part of himself he didn't publicize. Every freckle, the stretch of his faded t-shirt over his body, the curls he brushed out of his eyes every now and again, the way he flexed his callused hands as he cracked his knuckles, a nervous fidget.

It felt like time slowed down. You labored over the biology textbook, finding practice questions and asking him some of your own. You were gentle, cautious. Maybe it was the weird intimacy of the moment, maybe it was the lack of air in the cramped dorm. Your voice was soft, and you couldn't help but notice how the tension Art held over the phone and when you entered the room melted away. Did you do that? You felt this reciprocation, possibly imagined. But whenever you cracked a dumb joke, he'd laugh and put a hand on your arm. The contact always made you freeze. The touch was a reminder he was real, he was tangible. Every fleeting gaze, every smile in your direction.

You had almost reached the end of the chapter, and Art was getting almost every practice question right. You fidgeted with a sheet of his messy notes, reading it over to continue some rant you were on about RNA.

"...made up of nucleotides, which are ribose sugars attached to nitrogenous bases and phosphate groups..." You trailed off, looking up from the papers only to find his gaze already on you. How long had he been looking at you? And the way he looked at you...

"Do you want to take a break?" He tilted his head.

You quirked an eyebrow, unable to fight your smile. "Sure."

He got up with an over-exaggerated sigh and stretched his arms over his head, exposing the bottom of his toned abdomen. For a moment. He reached under his desk, pulling out a box of some cheap canned beer. He popped the tab of a can, taking a long draw and passing it to you.

You looked away from his watchful eyes as you took a sip. Your face heated as you took into account the fact you were drinking from the same can he had.

You winced. "God, that tastes like ass."

"Sorry." He laughed, taking the can from you. Warm, callused fingertips brushing against yours.

"I didn't take you for a Steel Reserve kinda guy."

"What did you take me for?"

"I don't know. Gatorade?"

"Okay." He shook his head. "No more for you."

"Wait, wait, okay, I take it back."

He held out the can for you again.

"Mhm."

"Still taste like ass?"

"It tastes like what I imagine WD-40 tastes like."

You felt your heart swell as he laughed at that. You hadn't noticed how the two of you now sat impossibly closer, thighs brushing, shoulders sending sparks whenever they met. The half-empty can of beer felt like a nervous talisman being passed back and forth between you. Dumb jokes tumbled easily from your lips, punctuated by laughter that echoed weirdly loud in the quiet room. Finals week stress had completely evaporated, replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the shitty beer.

It was so easy, talking to Art. Easier than it should have been, considering you were explaining the intricacies of cellular respiration to a man who once thought mitochondria were a type of pasta. But he listened, truly listened, his eyes locked on yours. You caught yourself getting lost in their depths, a dizzying kaleidoscope that mirrored the nervousness in your stomach.

He leaned in, as if to hear you better, and you mimicked the movement unconsciously. The space between your faces shrunk, the air thick with unspoken words. His gaze did its familiar dance—right eye, lips, left eye—and this time, it lingered on your lips a beat too long.

A sudden self-consciousness washed over you. Should you pull back? This wasn't your intention. But before you could overthink it, Art's lips were hovering over yours, a question in the way they hovered, hesitant but hopeful.

"This okay?" His voice was impossibly low, breathy, quiet. His eyes raked over your features, eye contact shifting from left to right, back and forth. His hand, warm and calloused came up to cup your cheek, grounding you in the moment.

"Yeah." You breathed.

The kiss, when it came, was soft and unexpected. More of a tentative exploration than a passionate assault. It tasted of desperation and relief, of unspoken feelings finally finding a voice.

Your hands moved from your sides to toy with the curls on the back of his head, earning a barely audible groan from Art. His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, his other hand moving down to pull you impossibly closer by the small of your waist. His touch was shy, tender.

After what felt like forever (and you wouldn't have minded had it been), you pulled away slowly, breathless, a blush painting your face. His eyes searched yours for some unknown answer. For a long moment, the only sound was the ragged rhythm of your breath.

A slow smile spread across his face, mirroring the one blooming on yours. "God, you're so pretty."

Leaving Art's dorm room felt like navigating a dream. Your head spun, a mix of the cheap beer and the potent aftertaste of the kiss. Your lips still tingled where his had been, a brand new sensation that sent shivers dancing down your spine. Relief, sweet and unexpected, washed over you. Months of stolen glances, late-night calls disguised as study sessions, and a simmering tension that had threatened to consume you—all of it had culminated in that single, electrifying kiss.

As you walked down the quiet hallway, a giddy smile stretched across your face. It wasn't just the kiss itself, though that replayed in your mind in a loop—hesitant, searching, then deepening with a shared sense of discovery. It was the way he'd looked at you afterwards, his eyes soft with unspoken emotions, mirroring the whirlwind in your own chest. A nervous flutter remained in your stomach, a delicious mix of excitement and uncertainty.

But beneath it all, a quiet confidence bloomed. He felt it too. This wasn't just some fleeting moment, a stolen kiss in the dead of night. It was a turning point, a bridge crossed, and the future, once shrouded in the haze of exams and unspoken feelings, now shimmered with possibility.

[miguelhugger2099]

To be Known is to be Loved

Summary: It’s so easy to forget the little things. But Miguel loves you so he remembers. A/N: I’m on writers block so please forgive me for the lack of fics. I hope some fluff with suffice. Art: nellwhre17 on instagram No warnings, Fluffy

You hated being on your feet all day. Your soles were sore, your toes scrunched together in your shoes and you were pretty sure your laces were cutting off your circulation. You wanted nothing more than to take everything off and lie in bed.

So, once you opened the door to your home, tossing the keys to the couch, you crouched down to shove your shoes off. You were too impatient to slip off your shoelaces, settling for a fight of just ripping your shoes off your feet. Once the pair had flopped away from you, you wiggled your toes and sighed in relief.

“Mig?” You call out, searching for your boyfriend’s comfort after a long day. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot your fuzzy slippers right beside the couch where you had thrown your keys. It wouldn’t have been unusual since you often left your slippers by the door before you leave for work, but you were in a hurry today–Miguel must’ve moved them for you.

With a tired smile, you wobble over to them and slide them on. Its warm softness were heaven on your sore feet and you heard the pats of Miguel’s heavy footsteps. You look up to see Miguel give you a soft smile.

“Hi.” He whispers, a dry towel in hand. By the smell coming off of it, it seemed it was freshly washed and dried. He looks off to the side and sees your shoes discarded in opposite directions. He makes the move to collect the pair and set it on the shoe rack neatly. Miguel looks down at you on the floor and hands the towel to you. “I already showered so here.”

You take the towel with a bright grin. You were already feeling better.

When you had woken up from your nap, you instinctively crawl out of bed to search for Miguel. You found him in the living room, TV volume as low as possible with all the lights turned off. You could never sleep if even the smallest of light peeked in your room. Miguel’s jaw moved and his mouth opened to pop something in his mouth and you realized he was snacking on something.

You take a step forward on the wooden floor and it creaks, signaling your appearance. Miguel raises his eyebrows and turns his head to face you. He relaxes.

“Finally up?” He asks. The TV continues to play a random novela–something from the 2000s based on the camera quality.

“Yeah,” You croak out, voice hoarse from the long nap you took. Miguel pats the seat next to him and urges you closer with his hand. You follow his command, plopping beside him and instantly, you two fall in place. His hand around you protectively and your body smushed to his side.

Your eyes glance at the snack in his hand and you realize it’s actually candy. A rectangular packet of Starbursts. You look back up at Miguel, your vision seeing his side profile and you speak up, “Can I have some?”

Miguel takes his arm up and off you. He then takes the packet and rips it open and reveals the different colored cubes of flavor. He carefully plucks out the pink ones—sweet strawberry flavor—and places it in your outstretched palm. Then, he places the red ones—cherry flavored— with the pinks ones.

You smile to yourself, already unwrapping the candy and chewing on the taffy. You watch as Miguel keeps the yellows away from you, instead taking it upon himself to eat those.

He didn’t understand your need to be picky about the flavor and color, but usually you’d want it so he’d give it to you no questions asked. No reminders either.

Miguel settled his arm around you again, gnawing on the taffy and plucking the pieces that got stuck on his teeth. You snuggled back up to him happily, while you ate the strawberry and cherry Starburst.

If there was anything you shamelessly loved to do, it was kissing Miguel. He didn’t mind at all. Despite his introverted nature, he couldn’t help but smile with each extra kiss you’d give him. 

He was sure you never noticed this one thing about yourself. Maybe you did but he doesn’t think so. It was his favorite quirk of yours.

Sometimes, if he’s lucky, you’ll be so smitten when he initiates a kiss first that you’ll keep your eyes closed just to give him another chance to kiss you. A opportunity he's always willing to grab.

He liked pulling away and seeing you still, small smile playing on your lips and awaiting another smooch. And like a routine, he lifts your chin higher up and your lips quirk up higher. The tip of his thumb grazes your bottom lip and he leans down just enough to where your lips are brushing against each other. He watches your mouth twitch and your eyebrows scrunch when you could only barely feel him. Miguel finally leans down and kisses you again and he places a hand on your waist to feel you melt in his embrace. 

[xileonaaaa]

Thinking of Boyfriend!Choso

He’s not a shy twink who stutters after every word.

Tribute/ coping post after jjk chapter 259. 🙏

───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Boyfriend!Choso who spent countless days, weeks, even months just trying to put a name to the feelings you gave him whenever you were around.

Boyfriend!Choso who confided in his little brother about said feelings, and when he was told that what he was experiencing was an emotion called “love”, he wasted no time in literally telling you the next day.

Boyfriend!Choso who (unknowingly) confessed to you in the most inconspicuous way imaginable. (He didn’t even notice what he was saying until he saw your awe-stricken face. You said yes ofc!)

Boyfriend!Choso who assumed his boyfriend role in a heartbeat, and couldn’t help but feel proud of himself for pulling you.

Boyfriend!Choso who always makes sure that you feel your best, because to him, you always look your best. Don’t feel confident in your outfit? Better believe he’ll be your number one hype man.

Boyfriend!Choso who never, ever, ever, ever makes berating jokes towards you, regardless of the context.

Boyfriend!Choso who always makes sure you get everything off your chest. Never hide your true feelings from him. If you’re mad at him? “Okay, let’s sit down and talk about this.”

Boyfriend!Choso who you never end up fighting with, because he’s the embodiment of “we live, and we learn.” He listens when you come to him about something that he’s done/ or not done, and he promises to do better, and it’s not like he’s just saying that because he really does do better.

Boyfriend!Choso who’s quite inexperienced in a lot of things, and spends his free time learning about the ins and outs of relationships.

Boyfriend!Choso who always looks uninterested in what you’re doing, but is actually quite the opposite. (He’s always paying attention, making sure you don’t hurt yourself, or need help.)

Boyfriend!Choso who always looks a bit stunned whenever you look in his general direction, but always smiles that small, tight-lipped smile whenever he makes eye contact with you.

Boyfriend!Choso who loves being needed by you. Can’t reach something on the top shelf? He’ll get it for you. Scared to go in a spooky, cursed filled tunnel by yourself? Don’t worry, he’ll go in first, and clear the path for you.

Boyfriend!Choso who you never have to worry about possibly cheating on you. He is literally infatuated with you. The two of you could go out in public, and all eyes would be on him, and his focused solely on you. (If it isn’t you or his family, he could really care less.)

Boyfriend!Choso who takes the time to learn the things he knows you like. He would teach himself how to cook, so you wouldn’t have to spend so much money on take-outs. He’d learn how to do basic chores for times when you weren’t quite feeling like yourself.

Boyfriend!Choso who always puts your needs before his own. Are you hungry? Sure, he’ll whip up some of your favorite food, and have it ready in no-time. Are you tired, and don’t feel like going to the school? He’ll just call Yuuji, and ask him to inform Gojo about your absence. Anything you could possibly need, he’ll do it all.

Boyfriend!Choso who is naturally protective of you, and won’t hesitate to throw himself into incoming danger for your sake, even if he really is outclassed.

Boyfriend!Choso who used to question what he was, finds himself radiating with new found confidence that you’d given him.

Boyfriend!Choso who isn’t exactly clingy, but at the same time he is. (He follows you around like a lost puppy, with an aura of a guard dog.) Wherever you go, he goes, unless you say otherwise.

Boyfriend!Choso who loves to let you fall asleep on his chest. (Your weight grounds him in all the right ways.)

Boyfriend!Choso who simply can’t imagine how his life as human would’ve turned out, had it not been for you.

Boyfriend!Choso who is the most loving, doting, caring, supportive, and protective boyfriend you could ever ask for.

Boyfriend!Choso who loves you with all of his cursed heart.

[scarareg]

From 0 to 10, which grades would you give to PJO ships?

Hi anon! This is such a fun question! Thanks for sending it! I tried to choose the most popular ships because there are so many variations of them, but if you are curious about a specific one that I didn't mention, feel free to ask!

Percabeth (Percy x Annabeth)

3/10 I give it a 3 only because in PJO they are cute but in HOO they are full of red flags and I hate what Rick did with them. I feel like their goals for the future do not align at all, and it is as if they together because that is what they are used to and not because they are in love. It seems like Percy is always trying to accommodate to what Annabeth wants and I think in the long run that would make him miserable, and those feeling will make worst a relationship that is already fragile.

In the future he is going to resent her so bad, because we already see that he doesn't feel comfortable joking/talking about some topics because Annabeth gets mad, now add him feeling like he has to follow everything she says or do just to be "the perfect boyfriend". It is a recipe for disaster

AnnieLuke (Annabeth x Luke)

1/10 this one is complicated. The thing is that I understand the appeal of a childhood besfrieds to lovers, I love those, BUT Luke never saw Annabeth as anything but a little sister. That + the fact that their relationship became toxic, it just make me uncomfortable. Sorry Annie, but this one is not the one, at least in my opinion (and in Luke's lmao)

Perluke (Percy x Luke)

4/10 I see you fans of friends to enemies to lovers or friends to lovers to enemies, I get it, but to me this one lacks that je ne sais quoi to make it appealing. But I can understand why some people like it. And I am part of the team "Percy had a crush on Luke yet he was the last to know"

Percico (Percy x Nico)

10/10 they are my OTP. I like how they complement each other. They have the history, the angst, the complexity. I like the dynamic of two characters who went through a lot, but deal with trauma in opposite ways.

They are ride or die for each other, but they keep that information a secret from each other, which makes their relationship really fun.

Most importantly Nico thinks Percy is cool AF and he adores him just the way he is. Percy is one of the few people who tried to get close to Nico and to understand him.

Their empathetic nature would make this relationship super sweet, tender and calm. For example, if one of them need to rest or are stressed out, they can go to the other and they will know if they need to talk or just want to nap.

Bonus points because their relationship with each other's parents would make their relationship even more interesting and fun!

Perachel (Percy x Rachel)

9/10 love this one! My second fave Percy ship! This is Percy's loss, to be honest. Their chemistry is super natural and they are always having fun! Rachel seems like a low-maintenance partner, so being with her must be pretty easy. She would not make drama if Percy can't be there with her for some time because he has to save the world or whatever. I think he can chill with her, and just like with Nico, Percy just being Percy is enough

Valgrace (Leo x Jason)

9/10 What I like about them is that both are insecure about themselves but always see the best in each other. Jason is Leo's hype man and Leo is always thinking about how impressive Jason is. Where Leo is chaotic, Jason is calm. Where Jason is anxious, Leo is chill. They just screams healthy couple

Jiper (Jason x Piper)

2/10 the problem here is how the relationship started. Both of them are really kind to each other, but their romance is based on a lie, which neither of them is to blame for, but it just feels wrong. To me, after knowing how their relationship started, Piper seems to like Jason enough to stay a couple, and Jason was too kind and just rolled with it, and that is not good reason to stay with someone in my opinion.

Liper (Leo x Piper)

9/10 shout out to @maygirlsposts to make me see the light with this one! Before, it never crossed my mind they could be a couple, but gosh! They are so cute together!

Piper and Leo genuinely have a connection, they share sense of humor, they have been through difficult stuff together and are empathetic towards the other's problems. They have a healthy balance between being chaotic when they are chilling, and having the ability to have honest conversations when necessary. They are overall wholesome AF!

Extra points for being the healthy version of Hephaestus x Aphrodite

Jasico (Jason x Nico)

10/10 this one is not my ship,only because I prefer them as besties, but I see the vision of their shippers; and I give them a 10 because they are probably the healthiest ship Nico has, to be honest.

Jason is always so patient with Nico, and sincere yet kind. Is great to see Nico feeling at ease with him. Jason has the stability Nico needs in a relationship.

Both bring the best of each other, and push the other to do and be the best they can be!

Jeyna (Jason x Reyna)

8/10 oh what could have been! The tragedy of the lost potential! They were too powerful together and Rick couldn't handle that.

They have history together and understand each other deeply. They are both strong mentally and physically, so they could be the standard of a demigod couple. They are both healthy people on their own, so their relationship would naturally be nice.

Their love story could have been so interesting, like: separated by war and the gods, reunited by fate!

To tell you a secret, I see them as Nico's unofficial parents/older siblings. Basically, they both adopted him separately, protect him, and genuinely care about him. They would have been one hell of parents lmao

Jercy (Jason x Percy)

6/10 this one is fun! Again it is not my ship, but I like their dynamic. They give "Two bros,chilling in the hot tub, five feet apart cause they’re not gay" energy

Frazel (Frank x Hazel)

9/10 this is the only canon ship I like! Frank is super sweet and Hazel is always so kind, both are just wholesome AF! Like two teddy bears! I like that they started out as friends and both were seen as the "weird kids", that makes me think their bond is just genuine!

Lazel (Leo x Hazel)

5/10 they are cute, I just prefer them as friends. And not gonna lie, the fact that Hazel's ex is Leo's grandpa makes them kinda weird to me as a couple.

As friends will give them a 8/10, they need more time to get closer, but they already are super fun!

Fraleo (Frank x Leo)

6/10 They are funny! Like wholesome-awkward meets wholesome-chaotic. They just make me laugh because of how cute they would be, completely adorable! Too pure for this world!

I like this, but personally I like my ships with more angst, so I prefer them as friends. But you guys, their shippers, you must be the cutest, most wholesome people out there!

Leo x Frank x Hazel

7/10 I see the vision, but as you can see, I like Leo being their bestie instead of in a romance. But I understand! What's better than a love triangle? An OT3!

Pipabeth (Piper x Annabeth)

8/10 I like them a lot! This is the ship I like for Annabeth. In general I think Annabeth seems more comfortable with women. It feels like Rick wrote her as a lesbian-who-doesn't-know-she-is-one, but did so whithout realizing. Her chemistry with Piper (and with Reyna) just comes naturally and she looks like she is having fun!

Piper's fun personality complements Annabeth's logical one. Piper is all feelings, Annabeth is all brains, love that!

Also, just imagine their mothers' reactions when they find out they are dating!

Pipercy (Piper x Percy)

5/10 this is fun! But it needs that something else to make it super appealing to me, you know. Both are crack heads so they would be hilarious and a menace together! I can see the appeal! For me, I just prefer them as besties, like "Prepare for trouble! And make it double!"

Solangelo (Nico x Will)

3/10 in canon, 10/10 in fanon

First of all, can we talk about how fucking ethereal their ship name is? The ship name gets an ∞/10!

Now, the ship. I will start saying that I LOVE ships that are opposites attracts, but sadly this ship is a bit like Percabeth, but better. Let me explain. The concept is there, but at the moment of writing their romance, Rick kinda sucks. Genuinely think fic writers do a better job writing them.

For starters I have a problem with Nico being outed by Cupid. And I do not like at all that he doesn't have time to process that trauma, neither his crush on Percy and the heartbreak that comes after his rejection. Will is shoehorned into the narrative because "Nico needs a boyfriend" and Will is the only character available. He was a glorified extra.

This takes me to that I feel Rick thinks a relationship will solve all of your problems. I firmly believe that Nico needed time alone to recover from all of his trauma, which is a lot. But Rick's solution for this kind of stuff is "get a partner!". (Leo and Piper also suffered of this)

Is like: "Did you live through World War II? Your mom died and you were immediately stuck in an hotel for maybe one or two months? When you finally got out, were you in another century? Your sister died one week later? Years passed and you lived on your own for a while and felt scared and isolated from everyone you knew? Did you fight another war? Went to Tartarus and came back and then get kidnapped? You almost died, again? Had to fight again? Don't worry, having a boyfriend will solve all your problems!"

And I HATE IT! This is not Will's fault, it's Rick's. So I feel bad for not loving Solangelo in canon, but I really think Nico needs time for himself, he will have time for boyfriends in the future after he gets in a better head space.

Conclusion Will and Nico deserve better writers.

Once again thanks Anon! Would love to know what you think about this!

[wombywoo]

Are there other characters within Quinn and Vincent's world? And sorry if I missed it, but have you talked about the role of non-humans in the military? The piece you made with some of their documents was really interesting, but especially from a worldbuilding perspective!

hihi yes! I do have a bunch of characters in mind for this universe already 😙 There are several members of their military unit (perhaps a secret werewolf 🤫), as well as Quinn's dad and sister, his former squad mate, a problematic ex, Vincent's geriatric bff, evil past acquaintances, etc... I'm still trying to piece everything together but it's been fun so far 🤙

As for the role of non-humans in the military--it was a recent development, alongside the integration of said 'abhuman' people into modern society. Quinn's unit is specifically committed to combating supernatural threats, so Vincent was taken on as a sort of field consultant--he has intimate expertise on the subject, as well as heightened senses/reflexes/strength etc (plus he's a veteran ☝️). Naturally, there had been a fair amount of opposition to allowing this in the first place (due to preconceived notions that all vampires are inherently dangerous), but after witnessing him in the field, I think no one can dispute the effectiveness of Vincent's unique skillset 💅 slay, quite literally

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Peter and Zara were also at Gordonstoun. Zara being the in same year as W. So there was precedent in H's generation as well of sending kids to Gordonstoun. They did know the kinda academic+outdoorsey life a child that age would experience at G.

H's problem isn't the school he attended. It's he himself. There were no checks & balances on him once he was at school. No discipline for him once he hit his teens. Teachers couldn't discipline him, he constantly bullied other boys, staff. Took advantage of his RPOs. Wasted his time stoned or skipping classes. He did visit home- Windsor castle or Highgrove just as much as William did. He did his grandparents and they spoiled him rotten.

The Queen Mother spent an hour every other week with William telling him and teaching him about his legacy, his family's role etc. essentially grooming him for his role as king. She was pretty strict and no-nonsense. And if Harry had been made to do this he would have hated it. For a child William or Harry's age that mandated hour would have been a chore. But William put up with it and in hindsight saw how invaluable it was.

Harry probably spent that hour watching TV, horse riding swimming, eating sausage rolls and would have relished the fact that William is being punished. At the same he also saw that William getting extra attention.

What I'm saying is, Harrys problem is he himself. It would be the case wherever he was. William, in the same situation, chose different because he is made differently.

After Eton Harry was given so many opportunities, he had so many people in side family and outer circle who supported him, loved him, mentored him, guided him, covered for him. He had therapy, he had expert advisors, very competent staff, opportunities to get some.perspective because of all the charities and organizations he worked with.

At no point did he make better choices. If something was done for him to put him on the right path he went along with it until it got too hard. Then quit and it's on to the next thing. He didn't go to university. All his other cousins did. He could have had his pick of whichever uni, whatever course and he would have skirted through. Then he had his military career handed to him. But the moment it became non-glamorous actual work he quit.

I still think he was motivated to quit because William and Catherine had started having a public role and we're getting the limelight, so he thought he should also be a public figure and be admired.

We can only blame Charles and Harry's childhood trauma and his wounded inner child to a certain extent. When he becomes a bully, an abuser, an entitlement addict...when he starts sabotaging his loved ones ... It's on him.

William and Harry, with the exact same upbringing and trauma, with just 2 years between them, have turned out to be complete opposites. That's a great argument in favour of nature vs nurture.

I mean, everything and everyone warned him against Meghan. Most people predicted 7 years ago how their relationship would go. And yet he made that choice, stuck with it. The rest is history in making.

Anon hits it right on the nail - I like the analytical side of royal-watching precisely for what they point out: nature vs nurture, and how the royals are fascinating case studies for it.

[trashytoastboi]

Day of Dominance - Diavolo

~SFW Alphabet~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

👑 Attention, affection and connection. Diavolo truly thrives on the attention you give him. He understands having to respect his image and will be reserved due to that even though all he wants to do is be affectionate towards you. It’s reserved for when it’s the two of you, or at least when you’re with the circle of people who already know. They all confess that Diavolo’s PDA is a bit much but he trusts them enough to drop his image a little in front of them. Barbatos is just used to seeing Diavolo smothering you with his touch. He’s like an oversized kitten. 

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

👑 The always busy but never too busy for you friend. His responsibilities keep him busy and Diavolo himself is craving any excuse or reason for a break, you give him the perfect reason for that. Honestly watching him sneak out of the castle is funny in itself. He instantly lights up the room with a natural charisma to him, but when it’s just the two of you he’s more focused on having fun. You go quieter places, Diavolo has even attempted a few disguises and the two of you head out incognito. Diavolo usually always has something he wants to try so you’re always doing something different, trying a new place to eat, walking around, shopping, or even going to some of the attractions in the Devildom that his usual fame doesn’t allow him to.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle) 

👑 Diavolo loves cuddles, if he could have you on his lap while he cuddles you on his throne he really would. Barbatos tells him it’s not the proper decorum though :( Enjoys being both the big and little spoon, the little spoon more on days when he’s really exhausted and frustrated. He’ll just snuggle up to you and lay his head on your chest with his arms around you. He won’t say anything, you could sense his unease though and cuddling acts as a form of comfort for him. It also helps him fall asleep when his mind is too busy. 

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) 

👑 1/10 on domestic skills, not for lack of trying. His cooking is better than Solomon’s. It looks similar and there’s questionable taste. It’s probably going to give you food poisoning but not threaten your life like a certain sorcerer's concoctions of the kitchen. He does try he really does but unintentionally creates more work, an example is when he decided to join you for doing dishes after dinner at the House of Lamentation and broke more plates than he washed…Barbatos very dutifully took over for him. When it comes to settling down, Diavolo regards you as one of the most stable pillars in his life. One of the more honest and genuine people. He loves that about you and settling down doesn’t seem a far stretch from his desire to just be with you all the time. 

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

👑 Puts on demon lord mode. He’s suddenly serious and very formal. He says what needs to be said and he’s eloquent about it. The moment he’s finished all of his practiced words, he is trying to hold himself together because he’s more heartsore and sad about this than you could imagine. He might cry a little the moment he was left alone. He doesn’t do it without reason either and will explain his side of things so there are no questions left unanswered, it’s the least he could do. It’s painful and upsetting for both of you. 

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married.)

👑 He’s all for it but the decision is not his alone, an unfortunate circumstance of his position. If he does announce his desire to marry you- there would be opposition and a lot of politics involved. Diavolo honestly doesn’t want to involve you in that sort of mess. He’s devoted to you and you’ve never questioned that before. However, Diavolo might keep his desire to marry you to himself. 

G = Gentle (How gentle are they? Both physically and emotionally.)

👑 He’s a sunflower to you. Endlessly gentle and you think it's sweet how the strongest demon is the squishiest with you. He’s got a good sense of his strength and knows not to overdo it with you. His extra care always shows through his actions and how he handles himself around you. Emotionally he’s soft, sometimes he gets wrapped up in trying to keep his problems to himself and shuts you out as a result of that.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) 

👑 Diavolo is a fan of hugs and says they always recharge him. You adore how he brightens up after a hug, whether it’s a quick one or a longer one. If he’s able to, he'll pull you into a quick hug before running along to his next meeting, just to give him a little extra spring in his step. If he has the time and the privacy he pulls you into those tight hugs. Feeling your warmth and form in his arms. He’ll just enjoy the moment with you, and rest his head on yours.  

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-Word) 

👑 He’s a master of choosing his words carefully and preventing any slips of the tongue. You’re probably one of the only people who can get him all tongue tied, breaking the infallible appearance he cultivates for others. The simple words bear a heavy weight when there is meaning to them, Diavolo understands this well and so he didn’t throw them around meaninglessly. He meant it, whenever he told you he loved you. It was his honest feelings, and he said it pretty quickly, because he just knew he is so in love with you. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?) 

👑 Diavolo doesn’t show his jealousy even if he really is jealous. He’s not vengeful or angry about it. It makes him more insecure and sad than anything, he’s just envious that he isn’t spending as much time with you as others are. He’d never choose to isolate you, nor is he thinking that it’s something else. He trusts you implicitly. It’s more his own desire to spend more time with you and honestly…He’d like to have your attention on him. He enjoys when you dote on him and it makes him sulk a bit if you’re not doing it as much. 

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

👑 His kisses are sweet, and very passionate. Diavolo has to limit himself to little pecks, or a kiss on the hand if he’s careful about the eyes that are around. When comfortable and not caring about the company there, (mostly his inner circle and those he trusts) he’s more open about it. He kisses you deeply, with all his repressed affection. He likes kissing the top of your head, your nose, your lips and your hands, he likes being kissed by you- full stop. Doesn’t matter where, but if you kiss his hand he finds it adorable and it makes him a little bashful. 

L = Little Ones (How are they around children?)

👑 He’s loud, boisterous and energetic. He has a friendly feel to him and children naturally gravitate towards Diavolo. He’s good at handling kids, he knows how to talk to them and they seem to naturally follow his lead. Diavolo finds kids really cute, yeah they can be a bit messy and disastrous but it's just because they’re kids. He’s forgiving, patient and understanding. He never raises his voice in anger but he can get a little nervous if the kids get too rowdy because he’s concerned about them hurting themselves. 

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

👑 Mornings with Diavolo are a little more relaxed than one would expect. A big part of that is thanks to Barbatos, he wakes the two of you up with some tea. While getting ready Barbatos has already sorted out breakfast and he’s on top of everything. It’s a little weird not doing anything, but from the moment Diavolo wakes up he’s already preparing for the day. Trying to get his schedule in order and make sure he knows all the meetings he has to go to, responsibilities he has to attend to and anything else. He always makes time for a good morning kiss though. 

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

👑 He’s tired, sometimes a little more stressed than he lets on. He just wants to spend time with you, unwind and maybe do something he doesn’t often have time for. He’ll lay in your arms and ask questions about the human world and humans. He’s excited to learn about you and your home. He asks the strangest questions at times but you know it stems from genuine curiosity. As long as he can rest a little and be with you he’ll unwind enough to fall asleep. Something he really appreciates is when you let him lay his head in your lap and you pet his head or play with his hair. It puts him to sleep every time. 

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while and reveal things slowly?)

👑 He’s easily open and honest about most things. To you at least, but he’s lived a life of having to bury his real self under pressures of a position and facades by necessity. It takes a bit more trust and comfort before he’s opening up his true self to you. You feel like you’re looking at a different person whenever you see him concealing himself to evade showing weakness or what could be perceived as weakness in his responsibilities. 

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) 

👑 Patience is a virtue, one he has plenty of. It isn’t often when you’ve seen Diavolo truly angry, maybe never. He holds back a lot and tries to find a more diplomatic and calmer way of solving things. Even in moments of intense duress he keeps his head about him, he has too. He can get worked up but he deals with it really well and tries to work through it rather than acting on it. 

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or they kind of or forget everything?) 

👑 He’s excited to learn about you and will ask various questions pertaining to ANYTHING you tell him. He’ll remember the things you tell him, sometimes details get a little muddled because he has a lot on his plate but you appreciate the amount of thought he always gives with anything and everything he does for you. If he does forget something he’s honest, he’ll apologize and ask you to remind him. Usually a little reminder sparks it again and he’ll be able to recall the finer details. 

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

👑 The first time you snuck him out of the castle to go on a secret date. It’s his favorite memory. How you very bravely broke into the castle without getting caught (You did but you somehow convinced Barbatos to let you go and not mention anything to Diavolo) you gave him a very interesting disguise and the two of you snuck out (it wasn’t that hard since Barbatos practically let the two of you out) and went around Devildom on your date. The awkward part was both of you getting back and Barbatos, true to his word of pretending not to know anything, was waiting for Diavolo, late at night asking where he had been if not in bed. 

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

👑 Diavolo is protective of you in different ways and he always asks you to take care and stay safe. Whether he is protecting you against a threat- say a rabid monster, or something like safeguarding you from the snakes who are trying to undermine his position he does it gladly. He wants you to be safe and happy, he’s often got to think about the good of Devildom in his decisions but he always tries to find a way and means to protect you. You protect him in every way you can, despite his protests, you want him to be safe and feel like someone has his back no matter what happens. 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

👑 Within his means (limited time) he tries his hardest to make things happen. He pushes himself a little hard with work to free himself up for the evening so he can invite you to eat dinner with him, he ropes Barbatos into helping him decide on gifts, or plans for anniversaries where to go and what to do if it’s romantic enough for the two of you. Sometimes his plans don’t always work out and that's okay because you know how hard Diavolo always tries for you.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

👑 Trying to shoulder the burden and bear the weight of the world, always. In a sense it’s not an overstatement considering he is the leader of the Devildom. Diavolo tries not to rely on others, and he has a difficult time asking for help and communicating that he needs a little rest. Instead he’ll stretch himself thin, overwork himself and burn himself out. It’s awful to see and you always tell him to rely on you more because you can handle it. Diavolo is insistent on bearing his own work, much to your frustration. You can only support him quietly as much as you can and hope to relieve some of his struggle. 

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) 

👑 He’s sensitive to his appearance, he has to be. If he looks a little sloppy or unkempt people could pick him apart and question him over something so insignificant. Diavolo is very involved in the upkeep of his appearance; everything from clothing to grooming is meticulous. He actually enjoys the days he gets to dress down a little and when you tell him his bed hair is cute and just love him no matter what his current state. 

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

👑 He’d feel your absence deeply. It will affect him for a long time and he’d find himself unable to concentrate on work or his day to day tasks, his mind would constantly go back to you. He’d mope a lot because he wants you here with him and if you’re not it makes him worry about you. If you’re doing okay, looking after yourself, if everything is fine. He wonders if you think about him even a little as much as he thinks about you. Diavolo didn’t realize he would be so affected by someone as much as this. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

👑 He likes it when you come to visit him while he’s holed up in his office. Your presence makes him happy and even if you’re doing your own thing while sitting with him, Diavolo is happy and can work a little faster and with more energy. All for the sake of finishing up quickly so he can spend time with you properly. Barabatos invites you over whenever he feels Diavolo is struggling because you have such a positive effect on his work and his general well being.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

👑 He doesn’t like unkind and deceitful people. Those who approach him with the intent of using or manipulating him for his position alone. People who come with false intentions are the worst kind and Diavolo has had to deal with the type since he was very young. He’s gotten better at discerning people and the reasons for them approaching him. He forges new relationships with a lot of internal hesitation and keeps them very much at a distance until he’s certain of their intentions.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?) 

👑 He wakes up a lot in the middle of the night and his sleep is usually disturbed because his mind is too busy. He’ll lay awake, tossing and turning and trying to sleep. He finds the nights when he gets the best sleep is when you’re with him. If you have to get up in the middle of the night whether for some water or needing the bathroom, if you don’t give Diavolo something to snuggle in your place then he’ll wake up and be sad to see you’re not next to him. He’s extra clingy when he’s half asleep.

Taglist: @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @roninfromtheops

[angstywaifu]

He's Watching You Again - Bodhi Durran x Reader

Request: You’ve been catching Bodhi staring at you for weeks. Each time he quickly looks away and is too shy to actually speak to you. Until one day when you’re trying to carry too many books or weapons or something and you drop them all. Bodhi rushes over to help you pick them up and offered to help carry them which causes you to strike up a conversation, and suddenly shy little baby Bodhi becomes YOUR little baby Bodhi A/N: I am such a sucker for some cute Bodhi fluff. I hope you guys enjoy. Requests are open if you guys want to send anything in! Masterlist

It had started a few weeks ago. At least I had started noticing it a few weeks ago. Every now and then I would catch his eye before he quickly looked away, his cheeks flushed. I couldn’t help but admit it was cute, even peaked my curiosity about him. But every time I approached him or got close to him, he would bolt in the opposite direction like I was the plague. Often earning confused and worried glances from his friends at his sudden disappearance.

”He’s watching you again.” Imogen teases as we grab our packs and head out of battle brief.

I roll my eyes at her and shove her shoulder as I push past her, leading our way over to the Scribes Quadrant where we had been instructed to pick up some books for training later with some of the first year cadets by Xaden.

”Don’t know what you’re talking about.” I mutter as she catches up to me.

”Oh come on Y/N, we’ve all seen him starting at you. Or my personal favourite, when he runs away from you like you’re the plague. Never seen that boy run so fast in my life.” She muses as we push through the crowd trying to get to lunch.

”You’re looking too much into it.” I try to tell her confidently as we finally break through the crowd of cadets.

She cocks an eyebrow at me as she bites into an apple she must have snuck into her pack at breakfast. A smug look on her face.

”Something tells me his stares have caught your attention.” She teases, her turn to shove into my shoulder.

There was no hiding it from Imogen. We’d practically been attached to each other since day one here in the quadrant. We had never known each other prior to the rebellion or starting here, but we we’re one of the few marked ones in our year and in the same squad. So it was only natural we had gravitated towards each other. But despite that, it had not granted me friendship with Bodhi who she knew quite well.

”Look, I won’t deny it’s caught my attention.” I tell her as we stop in front of the doors to the archives, waiting for a scribe to come and help us. “But thats it. He wants nothing to do with me Imogen.”

”Are you sure about that?” She asks.

”He runs away anytime I am near him or go near him. Trust me, he either wants nothing to do with me or he’s scared of me or something.” I state as I hand the list of books to the scribe that has approached us.

Imogen’s laugh echoes off the walls, a few scribes in the archives glaring at the sudden outburst. “Girl he hangs out with Xaden and Garrick. Trust me, he ain’t scared of you.”

”Then he wants nothing to do with me. Simple as that.” I tell her bluntly.

”You keep telling yourself that.” She muses as the scribe returns with trolley laden with way more books than I was expecting.

We aren’t allowed to take the trolley, but the scribe is at least nice enough to help us stack the books into our arms before sending us on our way with strict instructions to have them back within the week. The walk back to the riders quadrant is slower than our trip over as we can barely see around the stack of books in our arms. Imogen and I tactfully using each other to help navigate our way back. Which so far had been a success. Right up until my boot catches on a small lip in the stone floor in the courtyard, books flying everywhere as my hands dart out to catch my self. I barely register the sound of rushed footsteps approaching till someone is kneeling in front of me.

”Are you ok?” The slightly unfamiliar voice asks.

I look up to see Bodhi kneeling in front of me, hands stretching out to see if I’m ok. As our eyes meet, his eyes go wide as if realising who he has rushed over to help. I can’t help but get lost in his dark brown eyes. They’re almost dark enough to pass as black, but up close I can see the dark chocolate hue to them.

”Yeah I’m ok. Just couldn’t see where I was going is all.” I tell him softly with a smile, hoping it might ease his nerves and not have him running away from me.

Bodhi breathes a sigh of relief and nods before looking at the books strewn across the ground. They we’re everywhere. I turn to find Imogen, but all I find is her retreating back as she leaves Bodhi and I alone in the empty courtyard. Bitch.

”I can help you carry them if you like. But it’s ok if you don’t want me to. And I’m not saying you can’t carry them, you’re definitely more than capable of carrying them yourself. Definitely don’t need my help. But I can if you want and-” Bodhi rambles before I reach out and place a hand on his arm, his body going rigid as he looks up at me in shock.

”Bodhi.”

”Y-yeah?”

I stand up and offer him my hand, pulling him up as he takes it. Gods he was tall. My neck craning to keep eye contact with him as he stands to his full height.

”I’d love for you to help me.” I say with a smile.

Bodhi smiles so wide it takes up most of his face before he rushes to pick up the scattered books, dropping a few in the process. He rushes back over to me with a far smaller pile than I had before. Clearly wanting to make sure I had a clear view of my path after my incident a few moments prior.

”Can’t have you falling in front of me again can we?” He jokes as he starts walking off in the direction Imogen had gone in with a pile of books placed firmly in his arms.

But little did Bodhi know, I was. I was falling. But instead of falling towards the floor at an alarming rate, I was falling head over heels for the shy and bumbling boy in front of me.

[figsnpassionfruits]

Paint Away, My Little Dove - Chapter 5

A/N: surprise, surprise- I came out earlier with this than expected. this chapter shows the backstory of the reader which is extremely dark (check tags before reading). if you cannot handle them, please act accordingly. i am not responsible for your feelings over given tws. word count: 3.3k tags: torture, child sa, child abuse, human trafficking, corruption, canon-typical violence and language, lots of smooches, age gap, infertility dividers by: @strangergraphics-archive pictures are from pinterest

It felt good to paint again. Arthur had suggested to bring you to a hill in the Heartlands, allowing you to practice your strokes. You had scheduled to sell some art in Rhodes soon yet did not have enough for your stand. Therefore, painting was the number one thing you had to catch up with. No work meant no money.

“There we go, sweetheart.” Arthur said as he leaned back, tilting his head to take a better look at the two bison he had sketched for you. “That look alright t’ya?”

It was almost ridiculous that he asked you that question. Arthurs sketches were always amazing. The way he would effortlessly flick his wrist, forming the outlines of beautiful animals in the most natural positions. It never looked out of place. It was as if your landscapes and his animals fell in love, forming a picturesque harmony.

You leaned over to Arthur, placing your hand on his wooden stool as it creaked to kiss him on his scruffy stubble. “Thank you.”

Arthurs features softened, his lips forming a small smile as he looked down to the ground, obviously flustered by your kiss.

Even after your night in Saint Denis both of you still got nervous around each other’s presence. It was a good sign for you, showing that you still cared for each other and that things had not gotten awkward after you allowed yourself to be more direct. You felt like it was the opposite; your relationship had just gotten better. Arthur would allow himself to give into more to what you guys were, going as far as being the first to initiate touch and small kisses. Touching each other’s lips however, had not happened yet. In your opinion, you already had given him all the hints in the world. This was not something you had to do. It was him.

Arthur however, oh boy. He still felt shame about the way he felt about you. Of course it was the age gap that could not leave him be, but it also was the dishonesty between you two. You did not know much about his life. And after that night in Saint Denis, he figured that he did not know much about yours either.

Arthur squinted his eyes as he watched you paint, leaning back to see what you were doing. But today, it just looked off. Your usual flowing lines were crooked, your brush strokes were too heavy and you were picking up too much paint all while struggling with what part of the canvas to focus on next.

“Shit.” You cussed under your breath as you dropped your wet paintbrush, bending down to pick it back up from the yellowish grass.

Arthur knew you lied about that bruise. You had told him that you walked into a shelf while drunk and that it must have developed overnight. However, he had been with you the entire evening. You did no such thing. But he let it go. There was no point in pressuring you to tell him. All he could do was ask again. It was up to you whether you told him the truth or not.

“Darlin’, I-“

You turned to him, seeing his worried and skeptic face. ‘Please, don’t ask again’ You thought, knowing what was about to come out of his mouth.

“I can’t let yesterday go, dove.” Arthur cooed, gently squeezing your thigh as you stared vacantly at your unfinished painting, refusing to look into his shiny eyes. “What are ya hidin’ from me?”

As you still did not answer, he put his strong hand up to your face, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Please.” He begged.

Silence.

Arthur let out a sigh, pulling your stool closer to him, only to put his hands on the sides of your face to force you to face him. “Look at me. Y/N- look at me.”

Finally you were able to face him, your lip already quivering as a reaction.

“There ya are.” He goofed as an attempt to cheer you up, using his thumb to caress the skin around your cheekbones.

“I don’t think I am ready to tell you, Arthur.” You frowned, feeling a burning sensation in your eyes. Your shoulders were slumped, making you feel all weak and fragile. This was not the you that Arthur knew. It was as if Saint Denis sucked the life out of his sweetheart. He could not allow to be an accomplice to your turmoil.

“Just tell me- is it something I gotta take care of?” Arthur asked firmly, still holding on tight, this time not allowing you to run away from his question.

You placed a hand over one of his, which was full of muscle and sinew, turning your face so you could place a kiss to his pale palm.

“No.” Another lie.

…………………………………………..

After all that mess with the Braithwaites, Arthur was back in Saint Denis. Catherine Braithwaite had given them a lead to Jacks whereabouts, so they headed exactly there; Angelo Brontes home.

It was night, the mansion enlightened with a bunch of warm candle lights and guarded by an army of men. Dutch was talking back and forth with the Italian mob boss, negotiating on how to get Jack back. Arthur was more worried with analyzing each and every move the guards were doing, trying to ensure Dutchs and Johns safety. They had come in by threatening his man outside of the gate. Getting their heads blown off for disturbing the peace was not too far-fetched.  Brontes laugh pulled Arthur out of his focus, asking for the two younger men to take a seat next to Dutch. He had agreed to let Jack go back home with them, yet Arthurs intuition told him not to get tricked by his words too early.

“How about this, huh? You perform a simple job for me… and you get your son back.” Bronte offered in his thick Italian accent, letting his leather couch support his weight as he took a sip from his drink.

“What is it?” Arthur asked, obviously annoyed as he placed the glass that was handed to him on the table, not wanting it anymore out of pettiness.

Bronte answered him, talking about some sort of grave robbers. ‘That sounds easy enough‘ Arthur thought.

“Maybe you-“ Bronte pointed to John. “And you, Mr. Van der Linde can go. I would like to talk to Mr. Morgan.”

Dutch looked around for a second, confused by the Italians decision. “You see, Senior Bronte, my boy Arthur is a man for everything. Whatever you want, he gets it done.”

Bronte formed a thin line with his lips, scanning the trio with his eyes as he took a long sip again. “I’m sure he is… But I insist.” Bronte laughed, leaning further back, his arms spread all over the furniture.

Arthur turned to Dutch, nodding once to tell him that he would be fine.

“Salute.” Bronte cheered as Dutch and John left the room, leaving him alone with Arthur.

“Arthur Morgan, huh. You still haven’t touched your drink.”

“Don’t really feel like it when I’m alone. Safety reasons.” Arthur snickered, trying to match the jokingly manner to Brontes. If he was forced to be alone with him, might as well not get on his bad side. Especially after he had already agreed on letting Jack go.

Bronte clicked his tongue a few times, his eyes still not leaving Arthur. The tension in the air was at an high. Arthur could tell that there was another thing that Bronte wanted from him. The confusing part about that was that Bronte seemed to be extremely direct with what he wanted before. And now it seemed like the opposite.

“You were here a few days ago, no?”

“Yup.” Arthur answered casually, shifting a little bit in his seat.

“One of my men saw you. With a lady, perhaps. Are you friends? Lovers? What are you?”

It was as if Arthurs brain shut down. Why was all this important to Bronte? After all, the trio had only come for Jack. Why were you now the subject of the topic? Clearing his throat, Arthur was pondering what to do. Should he risk Jacks life by lying for you or risk yours by telling the truth?

“We’re business partners.” In this moment, this was an appropriate term. He was not lying about knowing you, but still protecting you by not showing Bronte how close you and him were. Arthur would be lying if he said that he was not curious or interested in where this was leading to. You were able to fool him with your artist gimmick before, but after this little chat with Bronte; not anymore. The bruise on your neck was now bigger than he thought it was.

“Business partners.” Bronte repeated, his fake smile still plastered all over his face. “Well, the way I see it, Mr. Morgan, you have two choices.”

‘God, where the hell are ya Dutch?’ Arthur asked himself as he scanned the room, trying to remember the objective of coming here in the first place. “And what would those be?”

“Well, since that snake of a woman is still breathing, I will let you pick. Bring her to me, dead or alive.” After a beat of silence, Bronte suddenly erupted with laughter, his whole body moving to his voice.

Arthur took a deep breath in. ‘Goddamn it, darlin’, what did you do?’

…………………………………………..

Nightmares were not unfamiliar to you. After all that you have been through it was always a surprise whenever they would not show up. For some reason, you would get those more when you were in camps while travelling than you would get them at the cabin of Hamish. It was as if your body knew where you could feel safe and where to sleep with one eye open. Maybe its function was to be a reminder to be alert at all times. But some nights, even the domestic feeling of the cabin at O’Creagh’s Run could not keep those away.

Your sleep was interrupted by an overwhelming feeling of nausea. As you threw your covers off, you placed a hand in front of your mouth, attempting to keep the acidic fluid in your system until you could reach the outsides. Once out, there was no keeping it in anymore. With a painful gag the colored retch rushed out of your body, your back arching like a cat while you bent over with knees trembling like a newborn foal.

As the vomit kept coming out, Arthur came up behind you, still drowsy from the night, a hand holding back your hair while the other rubbed big circles on your back. “You’re alright, sweetheart. I’m here for ya.”

‘Poor Arthur’. All that travelling must make him so tired. You felt horrible for waking him. “I’m sorry.” You coughed, slowly straightening your spine as you wiped your teary eyes.

Arthur took a hold of your face, eyes roaming all over it. “Are you okay?” He whispered, trying to not be too loud in order to not wake Hamish as well.

You nodded, placing your shaky hands on his wrists. “Just a nightmare.”

“That don’t seem like ‘just a nightmare’ t’me.”

This time it was hard to get away from him. It was the middle of the night with just the two of you around. He basically had you trapped in this position. The more days went by since he saw that bruise on your neck, the more his questioning arose. Arthur was not a stupid man. You were more surprised that he had not found out yet, one way or another. Perhaps, this man just had to hear your story from you and you only.

“We gotta talk.” You exhaled, swallowing down a sob that was about to escape your mouth.

With no hesitation, Arthur had pulled you into his chest, wrapping his thick forearms around you like a blanket. “I know, darlin’, I know. Let’s talk.” He had a hand on the back of your head, stroking your hair as he shushed your cries, slowly guiding you towards the pier on the water.

Ever since you were young your life consisted out of struggle. You came from a poverty-stricken town far away from where you were now. Men would work themselves to death while women would sell their bodies to get crumbles on the dinner table. Disease had hit the area as well, causing more death and unrest in the air. You were only four, when your family made the decision to sell you off into the city of Saint Denis, thinking you were about to live a life without suffering from sickness or hunger.

“It started out normal. I got an education from within the mansion, they taught me how to read and write. And paint, obviously. That’s what they wanted me for anyway.” You smiled and you sniffed, wrapping your own arms around you tighter.

Arthurs arm was now wrapped around you as you both sat on the wood. He was listening closely, his eyes on yours, his lips slightly apart to focus on your voice.

“I was there to create paintings for him to sell. He has the whole city in his pocket, Arthur. Whatever gets sold in the city, whether that’s food or art, he profits off it.”

Angelo Brontes wealth was no secret to anyone. That man was filthy rich for all the wrong reasons. But whoever has the money, has the power. There was no reason for the lawmen and sheriffs to expose him. Why would anyone want to get in the way of someone who pays them? So whatever it was that he was doing, he would be able to continue.

You were around the building all the time, like the other kids growing up around you who all had different tasks throughout their days. But one day he did not want you to paint. Out of sudden you were good for other things that children should never have to endure. It started out as being his personal favorite. But Saint Denis was a big city with a big society. For Bronte, a demand meant that he had to come up with a product before anyone else, to secure the money that would flow his way. So whenever the rich men would sneak away from the parties held at the mansion, they would come to you.

Arthur swallowed hard listening to your words. Even without going into detail he’d rub his face, his own eyes prickling with tears as he felt his heart break. There you were, this sassy lady that loved to paint, pouring your heart out to him and all he could do was hold you silently and listen. Arthur thrives whenever he can solve an issue. This? This he could not solve. This was the past. He felt useless. Useless as he had to listen to the pain you underwent.

“That filthy bastard sold ya to his friends?” Arthur questioned in a low, monotone voice, his fingers digging into the surface of the wood.

You did not intent to hurt him like this. Of course you knew this was not an easy narrative to listen to. But seeing the man you love react this emotional to it tore you apart.

“Sweetheart, please, don’t make me beg for answers.”

You closed your eyes for a split-second upon hearing that, pondering over how to give him the most painless answer. Therefore, you nodded. Slowly.

Arthur closed his eyes tightly, his fist that positioned next to, clenched hard to match his anger. “Jesus.”

Before you could allow him to feed into his feelings, you kept explaining, your voice already raw from the cries you struggled to hold back. “One day I just realized it was wrong and I- I realized I had to get away. So-“ You put a hand in front of your mouth, choking down another high-pitched sob.

“It’s okay, darlin’. You’re safe with me.” Arthur soothed you, pulling you close to his chest once again.

A true, meaningful conversation with someone that mattered was rare to you anyway. But it had been long time since you received comfort like this. It felt good to be able to let go and allow others to take care of you. When Arthur needed help, you were there. This was him repaying you.

You wished you had never told that maid. To this day you would beat yourself up over it, telling yourself that you should have known that the money was overshadowing everybody’s morals. She had reached Bronte before you could reach the law. Bronte was never known for taking the easy way out of things. He was creative in everything he did. That was possibly the reason as to why he was so successful.

At this point, you were as close as humanly possible to the older man, your bodies taking each other’s radiated heat in to keep you warm. Arthur had his right arm around you, rubbing your own up and down, while the other was on your cheek, wiping away the salty tears whenever they had dared to drop.

“He decided not to kill me but to kill me over and over again. He sold me once and for all to the Murfree Brood. For eleven dollars.” Even if it was painful, you could not help but scoff at your own remark. All you had withstood was thrown away for eleven dollars. Your whole life up to that point was filled with pain, agony and heartache. Still, it had only been worth eleven dollars. “Angelo Bronte took my childhood. Those animals took my womanhood.”

Arthur still kept silent, leaving you to tell him about your anecdote. He kept doing what he had been doing for the past moments, which was comforting you as much as he possibly could with his touch and affirmations. There was no need for the rationality of him. All you needed was for him to listen. And he obliged.

“I’m not able to bear children, Arthur.”

His gentle caressing had turned into a tight hug now. Your face was nestled in his neck as you sobbed into his scent. “You’re okay.” He whispered, placing a soft kiss on your hair.

As the wolves kept howling and the hugs got tighter, you told him about how you escaped the cave you were kept in. The only details you had given him when he asked you how was ‘tomahawks’ and ‘lots of blood’. Afterwards you told him about how you wandered deep enough into the woods to this area. Hamish had found you near the road on his weekly food restock. He was the one who built you up into the woman you were now. The old veteran was able to make you fall in love with your talent again. He was able to make you lose the mental connection you had between Bronte and art. While telling Arthur all of this, you came to a realization; for you, there was no one who could ever replace Hamish as a father figure. But it took you to say it out loud to understand that Hamish was indeed your father.

The birds began chirping as the sky turned a light blue with a mixture of yellow, implying that the night was coming to an end. Your head was now slumped down on Arthur shoulder as he was processing all the information you had given to him. Yes, Dutch and him and the whole other bunch of the gang were outlaws. Breaking the law was how they ensured their survival. Though only now Arthur had realized, that in the middle of Saint Denis, he had met the worst criminal known to him.

- 🍯

[sodos-mummy-dust]

This was supposed to be a small rant, it’s sweet then smutty, but I got too carried away… so enjoy!

Warning: Lots of kinks and sex, oh yeah, and piss. We nasty here, don’t read it if you don’t like it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So you know how the ghouls have their elements and their own abilities? I imagine they feel at peace and comfortable while in their element. For example, waters love being in the lake or some type of water. There’s even a rumor that there is a river on the other side of the ministry, opposite side of the lake. Theres a little cave just under a cascade in the river, that’s where the waters go to do whatever they feel like.

I also think the ghouls have a natural form, most of them are recognizable in this form but only a bit. Some earths will have rough almost rocky skin and stone hard horns. Waters will have a almost see through skin and have a slim cover over their body, like a stingray. They also have tentacles, fins on their elbows, and gills on their neck and ribs.

Fires have charcoal black coals and horns, they also have fire running through their veins and it shines through their skin and horns. They have black tails and they are always very warm and can easily conjure and manipulate fire.

Quintessence has crystal horns and sharp claws, along with dark blotches along their body and it it’s dark enough you’ll see stars and comets, their magic creates this beautiful sight.

Multi ghouls usually have a combination or if they have a stronger element then that’s what they have more features of.

The earths like to be in the forest and trees that surround the ministry, perhaps they even have a treehouse whenever they want to be together, they absolutely camp out together often. It’s also good for them because they can sleep and relax while absorbing the energy of their elements. Just be careful because they absolutely get cookies after, they absolutely roll around in the mud and act like dogs.

Fires like to be basking in the sun on the status outside or any comfortable surface really. But some of them (totally not Sodo) like to shove themselves into the common rooms fireplace, while it’s on. A sibling went down there to help the ghoulettes with some furniture and they saw that, they ran while the fire ghoul woke up confused.

The airs like to be anywhere surrounded by wind, they like using their real form to float and fly through the trees and clouds on a warm and breezy day. They also have see through skin just like the waters, but their skin is a bit cooler. And yes, they do this nude, because why not?

The quintessence ghouls like being in the laboratory. They have a few telescopes and chalkboards where Omega and Aether like to do their research on space and their magic. Delta and Phantom often like to sleep in the laboratory whilst listening to Omega write on the chalkboard, Aether looking in the telescope and mumbling about whatever he’s thinking, and a comforting fireplace cracking.

NSFW

But also they are very sexual creatures, I mean it’s basically their job, to sin. So what if they used their element while having fun? Sodo likes to see his dick glowing through Rains skin, and Rain likes to control Sodo’s orgasms by using his element and making Sodo either nearly piss himself or cum too quickly.

Phantom likes to use his magic to edge himself or make himself cum constantly all day so Mountain will smell it and take him roughly against the trees or the cold glass of the greenhouse.

The ghoulettes like to float back and forth in front of Aether’s telescope so that they can float down and show him just what they can do with their magic and airy form.

Aurora likes to wear tight and small shorts or skirts and a white see through tank top with no bra in front of Swiss before bending down to place whatever she’s baking in the oven. Just for Swiss to pin her against the table and take her roughly as the pastries bake in the oven.

Zephyr likes to feel up on Ifrit before letting him roughly take him after a warm and nice massage. He likes feeling all fuzzy and hot from the inside where Ifrit’s cock is.

Pebble likes to lay in the treehouse or on a tree branch fully nude just to work Ivy up and either dominate him or be dominated. He likes it when Ivy conjures vines of Ivy to hold him down.

Omega likes to either ride Alpha or let Alpha pound him just to see the light from Aloha’s cock come through and shine through the darkness of the blotches on his body.

Earth likes to lay back and let River have their fun with him on the rocks just by the river. Likes to see them struggle to take something larger then they’ve ever had.

Air likes to have fun with Delta in the laboratory or common room when anybody could find them, they like seeing the fear and arousal in Delta’s eyes whenever anyone passes by the doors.

Water likes to float suggestively by Mist when she’s relaxing by the cascade, just to rile her up and make her drag him back by his tail and use her tentacle on him.

[pinkandpurple360]

someone made one of those color coded lyric things for the stol!tz duet and holy smokes, Blitzo has barely any lines compared to Stolas

the song is basically structured like - Stolas intro, pseudo-duet bit in the middle where Blitzo gets a verse to himself, Stolas outro

like in what other show would the main character's song where the voice actor is doing the singing this time (unlike Moxxie's bad trip) be written so that his emotional state is effectively overshadowed by the emotions of his 'love interest'?

like outside of Viv's favoritism for creator's pet Stolas I can only assume they had to do it this way since there's no real way to have Blitzo sing 'I remember that time I got sold to be his playmate and he thinks that makes us childhood friends' or 'I remember that time he didn't care I was getting shot, extorted me for sex and talked down to me for 6 episodes straight' and make it sound better than it was.

like if they bothered to dig into what he would be feeling in this situation outside of surface level stuff it would really undercut this whole 'Stol!tz should be be endgame & also everything is Blitzo's fault' angle they're going for

Yeah from what I saw, stolas/bryce has his fourth song and Blitzø got to have a single verse in it. Lucky for him /sarc can’t wait for his fifth song in his two back to back episodes. Then the sixth and the seventh…Is it not obvious that stolas is actually the main character? Episode 1 (sortve), 3, and 4 are an episodic break from the recurring stolas plot, which takes up 2, 5, 6, 7, season 2 ep 1, 2, 4, 6, 8, 9 etc etc. Like this is the stolas show.

And you’re right, Blitzø, who is now just the villains minion, has nothing to sing about? I think medrano realised that she can’t come up with anything substantial for him, so just focussed on the funnee sex part and transferred that flaw onto him. Normally it’s the owl wanting sex and cuddles and Blitzø wanting to focus on his life goals.

If you tried to dig to what he’s feeling it would validate stolas ‘adorable’ insecurity that he’s making someone else do things for him: sex and being his escapism. Oddly, even though he said he wants to make amends and lamented that it was wrong, now he’s “testing” whether somethings wrong or not, wanting to become a couple. That is a dramatic whiplash in motivation.

This is the messiest inconsistent plot line I’ve ever seen? It’s like it’s desperately trying to retcon and cover its tracks but keeps changing its mind on how to do it. I’m actually dizzy? The season 2 premier had him letting it go then 2 - not, then 4 - back again, but here we are episode 8 and it’s back to not doing that.

A while back Viv said stolas was getting all this screentime “because he’s important to Blitzø and imps story” but who is that kidding? This isnt his story or theirs. Stolas is the only character with an ongoing narrative which is solely focussed on his emotional journey and his life, especially his romantic life, ever since Ozzies. It doesn’t touch on Blitzø only to vilify him for not saving stolas from his responsibilities and messy divorce. Yet. Maybe even since LooLoo land. And every time the show drifts premise, it’s for imp to do a job for stolas, security, which in harvest moon he didn’t intend but that’s still what ended up happening anyways. Or for his random shoe horned appearances in e6 and e7.

That duet showed disharmony, unequal power, discomfort, two entirely different paths, lack of rhythm and lack of compatibility. Kinda the opposite of what a romantic duet is supposed to do? It’s painfully opposite to the harmony and in sync nature of the crooked duet.

[eveistdiepommes]

Classes Start ! SideTrack A !

Hellloooooo everyone! I’m back with more college au! Omg omg, okay, I had so much fun with these designs and coming up with the majors! So! Welcome to SideTrack A! SideTrack drawings and chapters will be sprinkled in amongst the main character art and chapters! This is the first SideTrack, but I have a couple others in mind (Mostly the Nordics, which I hint at :3) Welcome our newest additions!

(Character bios and info below, as usual! :D)

Who has time for gender when you’re this smart? Feliks Łukasiewicz is a bonafide genius, their pink, glittery clothes might just distract you from that fact! Feliks is beyond talkative, they love chatting about anything and everything and anyone and everyone! They basically got this friend group together, albeit very pushy-ily and stubbornly. They can be pretty demanding, pretty bossy, and maybe even pretty arrogant, but that’s mostly for show! Their brain is constantly moving, constantly thinking, and if they had to be left alone with ruminating thoughts, they’d surely get overwhelmed! Feliks is incredibly kind at their core, they’ve just built up a lot of layers of self importance for safety.

And Toris didn’t even mean to break through those layers! Toris is a straight A, top of the top student! He keeps to himself, he greets people with a polite smile and tilt of the head, he is mild and generally unnoticed. Well… he was… Feliks attached themself to Toris. They share many classes together, and one day, in a whirlwind of pink hoodie and fragrant body spray, Feliks declared they were friends! Neither of them expected to actually develop feelings for each other. Feliks had initially approached Toris because he seemed lonely (and he needed to loosen up) and Toris stuck around because, well, he was lonely. But, the closer they got, the closer Toris got to Feliks’ core, Toris felt bubbling adoration. And to Feliks’ surprise, Toris was the one who confessed first, which really really really meant a lot to Feliks!

The two are a couple, one people wouldn’t expect! Feliks is loud and flashy, Toris is introverted and seemingly always nervous. But they both swell with pride knowing they know each other’s true colors. Toris hushes Feliks’ anxious and fearful thoughts, Feliks cherishes Toris’ strength and secretly fiery nature. Together, they are an odd display of opposites attract!

Dimitri is used to just getting by in life. He doesn’t ask for much, and he doesn’t want to! He’s a sweet guy who just wants to do his best and expects nothing in return! Okay well… maybe he wants a little something in return! But not much! Dimitri has dreams of attending the World Academy, but thanks to his financial and family background, he isn’t exactly an immediate candidate. So! He works at the frozen yogurt place in the mall to raise money! He and his coworker, Natalya have grown quite close, and thanks to her help, he gets to understand what to expect from the world academy! The only thing about being so close, however… is that Natalya is quite involved with Dimitri’s interest in a frequent customer…

Mihai frequents the mall constantly! He loves anything dark and gloomy, which explains why he’s friends with Natalya! Mihai, like his best friend, has a very eccentric fashion sense, 2000s scene and emo inspired! Despite his dark looks, however, he is the brightest and warmest person! He’s always smiling, always so happy looking! He honestly didn’t even want frozen yogurt the first day he went up to the counter, he just figured he’d get something since Natalya could give him a discount! But… when he got up to the counter and saw an incredibly handsome guy with dark hair and pretty eyes ready to take his order, it was hard to contain his excitement! Ever since then, whenever he’s at the mall, he gets frozen yogurt! And he’ll never get sick of it!!

Little do both of these dorks know, Natalya is playing matchmaker behind the scenes. She purposely goes on break when she sees Mihai approaching (and Dimitri is starting to catch on), she drops hints that Dimitri is interested in Mihai when they are in class together, and she might perform a spell or two just to make sure her efforts are not wasted. She had frequently spent her life worrying about love for herself, but once she met her… everything fell into place. Natalya is devoted to both her girlfriend and her friends, hoping to bring them all happiness in her own, eccentric way. Many are scared of Natalya, rumors surround her because of her dark and off color remarks, but she is the sweetest and most thoughtful person. Just don’t end up on her bad side. She could get away with murder!

[kamjkaze]

Some Andre HCs cause I feel like I understand my baby the most.. TW: eating disorders

I think Andre struggles with anorexia as a means of having control over his life. If pried about it you’ll learn he genuinely does not believe he has disordered eating. He will fast for days on end to simply feel like he has a grip on his own reality.

I think his brain still thinks I’m german and when he’s only around his family for awhile he fumbles a little when translating his thoughts into English. Cal, naturally makes fun of him for this.

When he’s very sleepy and keeping himself awake his brain defaults to German and Cal usually just goes along with whatever Andre is saying.

Cal and Andre are super different in how they go to sleep. Andre can force himself to be awake for hours even if he’s barely lucid. But Cal, once he’s out, he’s out.

Andre is a mega computer nerd and begged his parents for that little computer for a full calendar year before he received it. He loves to tinker with it and I think once when he was younger his tinkering went too far and he broke something inside it. His dad got suuupppeer pissed and threatened to throw the whole thing out if Andre was so comfortable with breaking the things he bought him. , thankfully Andre fixed it with a bit of reading and stressing

Andre is a terrible skin picker. He has acne as it is but he will poke and prod and squeeze and scratch at all the little bumps on his face. The fact he has dirty man hands all up in his open ass acne is not doing the problem any favors

Andre still struggles with his own religious identity and never fully dropped the idea of Judaism from his mind, even on zero day.

I think he actually enjoys working with his dad, I think he’s a daddy’s boy as it is but being able to be out of the house and actually social with his father most nights is really good for him. Many of his doubts for zero day occurred while he was at work with his father.

I think Andre is very sensitive to weed and cannot handle himself very well with getting high because the Goldilocks zone of “this ain’t shit” to “throwing up and greening out” is so small for Andre. As opposed to Cal who hasn’t taken a tolerance break in the four years he’s been smoking.

This is the opposite for drinking. Andre can smash as much alcohol as he wants in a night whereas Cal is a total lightweight who can’t handle his vodka

Andre sleeps completely naked no matter the season. Andre is also naked most of the time in his bedroom or when left alone in the house. It’s a small quirk about him that he doesn’t really know where it came from. “I guess I was just meant to be a nudist. I mean, it’s how we’re all born”

Andre is not the type to admit his jealousy but it is one of the few things he’s able to laugh about just because I think he understands that he is a very jealous person and has more or less come to terms with it (unless of course pushed too hard about it, Andre would get mad about anything if pushed too hard about it)

When andre was a small boy his favorite book was The Runaway Bunny

Andre Kriegman is my life and joy PLLEAASSEEE share your Andre Hcs with me I beg of you

[alwaysinstyle]

Do you have any headcanons for Kyle that are considered uncommon by the fandom?

Ooooooh I love this question!

The most obvious one, I suppose, would be that I headcanon Kyle as short and I know that’s a fairly unpopular opinion. I love Style in every form but when it comes to personal preference I am a Tall Stan/Short Kyle TRUTHER. That may or may not have a lot to do with my unhealthy obsession very normal level of enjoyment of the Style Carry™️. Let’s face it, it’s just really damn cute when Kyle is small and easy for his strong boyfriend to pick up and that just pisses him off lmao (he secretly loves it of course).

Another one is that while fanon Kyle is frequently a glasses wearer and often portrayed with godawful vision, I headcanon the polar opposite. Like I imagine Kyle being that freak of nature with absolute laser sharp vision who can read to the very bottom line of the visual acuity chart and everyone is like “wtf HOW.” Don’t piss him off on the road because he CAN read your license plate no matter how quickly you try to speed off LMAO.

[vacantgodling]

a guide to: amon

we're back with another one. special shout out to annika for giving me the DRIVE to finish this lmao

transposed under the cut!

SLIDE 1: A GUIDE TO: AMON -- a man with literally no fucking chill. another monstrosity by yours truly @vacantgodling

SLIDE 2: BASIC INFORMATION pt. 1

FULL NAME: AMON

in GALERE those who are not of nobility literally do not have surnames. they’re not considered important enough to have them.

ie: erecia, terian, asahel, tamhas, vira, miss. shanin, knox, etc. none of these characters have surnames

HOWEVER, amon has a secret identity — or could’ve had one, its complicated — that many of these non-noble characters don’t know about: 

OCCASIONALLY KNOWN AS: CORIANDRUM FARRAH

after amon was attacked by the gang THE KEYS and his mother was killed, he was found and saved by a noble family: lord and lady farrah. unable to have children themselves, the two wanted to adopt the young boy, despite his many scars from the attack, to serve as their heir.

there are 2 alternate universe aus where amon does stay with the farrah’s and becomes their heir ⟶ the role swap au & the fiance au.

however, in canon, amon runs away from them after he heals at about 12 years old and returns to the slums of halifax, which are his home.

SLIDE 3: BASIC INFORMATION PT. 2

AGE: 29

BIRTHDAY: JANUARY 29TH

GENDER: CIS MAN

SEXUALITY: GAY. EXTREMELY KINKY. WE WILL GET TO THIS LATER.

OCCUPATION: MANSERVANT AT THE CHATEAU AUX AISLES D’OR

however, amon is also a member of the slum-gang THE LOCKS, who are in direct opposition to THE KEYS. THE LOCKS are run underneath the leadership of knox, a man who is also amon’s father figure.

despite their closeness, the two still butt heads.

knox wants to focus lock efforts on keeping the slums safe for everyone who lives there. however, amon knows that they will never be safe if the keys continue to stalk their streets at night. he wants to cut the head off of the proverbial snake—and take out their leader once and for all!

the only problem? well. 

the leader of the keys is THE KEEPER.

SLIDE 4: KINKY DETOUR✨PLEASE IGNORE IF Y’AIN’T LIKE SEX✨

a non-exhaustive list of amon’s kinks

impact play (actual fisticuffs turn him on), being restrained, orgasm play in any capacity, breath play (he has a huge oral fixation & choking on dick is his favorite pastime), cock worship/rimming, rough sex to the point of dubcon, anything “primal” (ie: wrestling, biting, scratching, growling, etc), blood play, degradation/humiliation—he is a BRAT, skin sensation or temperature play (such as ice/wax), exhibitionism/voyeurism… and he’s generally experimental. you get the picture. 

the man is insatiable.

SLIDE 5: GENERAL APPEARANCE:

HEIGHT: 6’2” (~187cm)

EYE COLOR: light brown; almost hazel

HAIR: dark black; short and choppy. his hair is actually naturally curly but he straightens it to appear more “dignified” as part of his act. 

BUILD: tall and lean; upside down triangle lookin’ ass. he doesn’t find himself particularly handsome.

there are 2 photos of amon to display how he looks. the first is a close up shot of amon--he has short cropped hair in a messy style, and sweeps on the left side over his brow bone. he has a few pinkish colored scars that criss cross his neck and he is making a smarmy expression. the second photo is a full body (sans feet) shot of amon bloodied and covered in bandages. the scars are revealed to cover most of his upper torso and one of his eyes is blackened.

SLIDE 6: SCARS

as a child, amon and his mother were attacked by keys; leaving him both an orphan and on the brink of death. miraculously (and with medical intervention) amon survived, but the attack left a mark on him—mentally and physically. 

to this day, amon hasn’t said what exactly the keys did to him to leave such marks. but nearly every available surface of his skin, including his genitals has some form of scarring. the worst scars are on his back. 

he is somewhat self conscious about them only because people can become uncomfortable about them. 

there is a photo of the backside of amon that showcases the scars on his back. the largest is one at the near center that goes from the top of his shoulder blades crossing diagonally down to his tailbone.

SLIDE 7: IMPORTANT RELATIONSHIPS

KNOX ⟶ as mentioned, knox is like a father figure to amon and he was the one who took him in once he returned to the slums after the brief period he lived with the farrah’s. while knox is wise and caring, he is critical of amon’s fight now, questions later approach, and tends to reproach him for causing ‘unnecessary drama’. despite this, he knows amon has the slums and the gang’s best interest at heart, and the two of them never stay mad at each other for long. knox is also willing to help in SOME of amon’s exploits (not all)

ERECIA ⟶ amon’s best friend and right hand man, the two have known each other since they were extremely small, and rekindled their friendship after they both experienced personal tragedy (erecia lost her father, and amon lost his mother/almost died/left the slums/came back). while amon is more verbally affectionate and likes to deflect his inner mind, erecia is someone who (to his chagrin) knows him very, very well. to the point that she is genuinely surprised at how enraptured amon has become with hya. she worries about him.

SLIDE 8: EXPLAINING THE OBSESSION WITH HYACINTHUS SHRAPNEL

this is extremely difficult to explain because in a number of ways, amon doesn’t really understand it either. he didn’t think much of hya at first; and at first, definitely only saw him as a means (the wife of the keeper) to an end (killing the keeper).

its the perfect storm of fucking around and finding out—not that i can blame him. he’s fucked hundreds of people without catching feelings; why should a pompous little lord be different? 

it’s more than just the fact that he can get a rise out of hya as amon can get a rise out of most people if he tries hard enough. it’s more than the fact that he thinks hya is attractive (and he does, immensely so) — somehow, hya is the perfect storm of a stubborn ass prick that fires all of amon’s dog-like synapses. 

he’s extremely lucky that hya feels the same about him tbh, even if its unsaid. idk. they’re made for each other.

SLIDE 9: ASSOCIATIONS

alcoholic drink: fireball shot

food: opera cake (or any sweet really)

colors: black & red

flower: coriander

animal: vulture

zodiac: aquarius

tarot: king of wands

song: king for a day — pierce the veil

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Blaise Zabini hcs

flavor: fluffy and smutish but they're separated so you won't get jump scared

fluffy

literally liked you since 2cend year

saw you in herbology and was like “I may be 13 but that's the love of my life”

all his friends were goofing around with him bc he was too anxious to actually talk to you

He never even made eye contact with you he was too scared

and then you just appeared next to his seat at dinner and handed him a letter

you asked him out in your letter in the best way a second-year student can and he was bullied so hard by his friends bc he was flustered 24/7

Eventually, as your one-month anniversary turned into 6 and then a year his friends cared less and less

you guys just kept going and they just got accustomed to you two just being together it was like “Where are our parents” and then they found you both sitting in the commonroom just sitting in silence together and they're like “Aha we’ve found them”

like you've become a package deal

you guys are the healthiest relationship on the entire planet

you're perfect

he's your number one supporter no matter what you could kill a man and he'd be like “Yeah baby whatever you want”

you could walk out wearing only a belt and he'd be like “Oh fuck them up do a spin hell yeah you look bomb oh shit hell yeah baby”

He will listen to you talking about your favorite flavor of candle wax for years he just loves you soooooooo much

rates your burps you guys have been together since you were 13 years old you grew together and so it's just like nothing is gross anymore bc like “and?”

so far you have not gotten a 10 but you're working on it

you have gotten a 9.25 though so you are getting there

You guys are so stable in your relationship that even if someone does flirt with you or him the other is just like “Okay? And?”’ Like Draco will be like “Your boyfriend got flirted with today” and you're like “Alright. Hey also did you do that essay or like what?”

biter

he's a tad rabid you'll both be sitting next to each other minding your own business and he'll just lean over and bite your shoulder

and when you're like ? he's like “It's cuteness aggression, it's natural. Read a book every now and then”

once you saw how much he enjoyed quidditch and so you tried out, broke your arm, and decided not to do sports anymore

Blaise was super stressed out the entire time you were in the hospital wing he pacing constantly and muttering

He makes your breakfast plate every morning while you're passed out on his shoulder

you have so many inside jokes that have you two almost pissing yourself from laughter and everyone else is just glaring at you

impromptu dancing in sync is a bit frequent between you two

you'll get stuck in a hallway doing that “Oh they'll go that way so I should go this way” but you both go in the same direction thing and he'll just pull you in and you both waltz out of the situation before just walking off in opposite directions like nothing happened

he's literally perfect the best boy in the whole world

He listens to all your rants all the way through and takes notes

one time Draco asked if Blaise knew anything about your friends and Blaise pulled out one of those corkboards with the red yarn

he's like perposterly good at history of magic

massive lover of study dates and nap dates

your grades skyrocket every time you ask for his help stg

spoils you rotten his mother is a breadwinner dude she bathes in 100-dollar bills

also he is a total mommas boy he sends his mom a letter every single day

when you did meet her you were like “Aha so that's where his good looks come from” Pansy heavily thirsted over her she was actively asking Blaise how old she was like “Mm that's not that big of an age difference” and Blaise was like “You're not rich enough babe cut your losses and end with dignity”

you guys are passing letters

he will be writing out love poems and handing them to you while stealing a piece of bacon off your plate

he's so deeply in love with you and has been for so long that he just like gives no shits anymore

yeah he gets all wimpy and lovey-dovey around you of course he would what are talking about dude

if anyone is like “Dude you're pussywhipped” or whatevs yk ppl hate Simps yadaa yada hell just be like “Yeah? and? which one of us in in the committed relationship again?”

god he is so-

he's just such a loverboy

he remembers every anniversary, holiday, birthday, and the day you first made eye contact with him, every time there's something important going on with you he remembers

he has your friends' birthdays memorized better than you do

his job is trophy husband and that's about as far as he goes(I'm lying he's so DTDTUYUgfADXZaSFDFZjcADFAGYUA ZXDJADHJKYJWAEMQC DFSIN)

he's so funny You're giggling all the time

nsfw(ish)

tits guy unless you don't have tits then he's all over your ass dude

this one time you guys were relaxing in his dorm as one does and Draco walked in and you were straight up just shirtless laying back against Blaise and he was just holding your tits (he's self-soothing its fine) and you guys were just like “hey:)” “hi:) how was your test” Draco just turned around and left

if he ever sees you laying down on your stomach he's flinging himself to you as fast as he can so he can use your ass as his pillow

you think he's weird though when he does that so you're like “Dude what if I fart” and he's like “Why do you have to rain on my parade?” And he continues to do it bc like that's his home<3

every time you walk past him he slaps your ass

you threatened to stab him once because he did it out of habit in front of a teacher and both got detention

he oddly talks dirty quite well however he always does it at the worst of times

You'll be mid-conversation about Enzo’s grades and he'll lean over and whisper the filthiest thing in your ear and you're just like “:/ who raised you?”

munch when he got older he went through a beard phase and shit was bleached 24/7 it was basically platinum

grabbing your ass if you breathe a little differently like the only time hell stop is if his hands are cut off

he likes leaving the door unlocked just cause “babe someone could walk in that makes it 10x more exciting” “I wish you'd shut the fuck up sometimes”

is so used to you shaking ass on him at the randomist of times he's learned how double task so he’ll fully be standing next to Lorenzo and explaining something to him while Pansy is showing you her new playlist and you find a song you like and you’re like “Where is boyfriend the shaking of ass must commenece” and he continues to explain everything to Lorenzeo while you do

:)