#it's becoming a habit to doodle something before work

[gamerdraluc]

they're funny

[neoraso]

talk to me in your love language | lmk

idol!mark x non!idol reader (him being an idol is not part of the plot at all, it's just for context) wc: ~2.8k warnings: i truthfully do not know how it became suggestive it was supposed to be sweet, still only like pg-13, lots of kissing and suggestive comments but no actual smut.

it really was nothing big, so why was your heart racing? this was absolutely not the first time you’ve prepared gifts for mark, but you never got over the giddiness that came with waiting for him to come home. whenever you made these small gestures, he always made sure to let you know how thankful he was, how special you were to him, but even still, sometimes you felt like it wasn’t enough. it was hard to say how you felt out loud, so you relied on writing it in letters, sometimes with stickers or little doodles. flowers and his favorite snacks, printed pictures of the two of you were the usual pairings. these gifts were given sporadically and usually for no reason other than you felt a surge of love that had to come out somehow.

oh well, it didn’t matter now because you could already hear the keypad being pressed as the front door opened, followed by an immediate calling out for you. it was nearing 8 p.m. and he had left at 9 o’clock this morning so, as usual, he had had an exhausting day. with an inward sigh, you hoped this would cheer him up. he had told you on occasion that no matter how much he worked, how little he slept, or how defeated he felt, seeing and being with you made everything worth it. now that he had you, there was no way he could live without you. of course, you felt the same and took opportunities like this to prove it.

“babe?” you could tell he hadn’t even gotten his shoes off or put his bag down before half shouting again, “baby? are you home?”

you busied yourself grabbing his gift from the drawer of your bedside table before responding as you exited the bedroom.

“yes sir. here i am.” you replied, dramatically spreading your arms with a sweet grin. you were sure you’d never get tired of looking at him and how his face lights up with a smile that spreads slowly when he sees you.

shaking his head to move his bangs out of his eyes, he immediately walked towards you, hands drawn to your hips and smiling oh so sincerely down at you.

“how’s my girl?” he said lowly, sliding his hands up and down your sides. “you gonna give me a kiss or what? been waiting all day.”

already flustered even after being with him so long, sometimes he caught you off guard with how bold he could be now. he had certainly grown from the bashful, wide-eyed boy you knew him as years ago. what’s worse is half the time he didn’t even realize what he was doing.

“i’m good…” you dragged out the words trying to ignore how close his mouth was to yours. his eyes were trained on your lips and you knew he was only half paying attention.

you could barely keep it together when his nose touched yours and his mouth slid over your slightly parted lips. just before he could have his way with you, you spoke against him.

“i got you something…”

at this, his eyes widened and he pulled away to see what you were talking about, his gaze trailed down to your right hand landing on the small jewelry box in your palm.

“what’s this? it’s not my birthday. wait- is it?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at how startled he was. “no, it’s not your birthday- or any other occasion, don’t worry. no occasion other than just another day i wanted to say i love you.”

he had still been holding your waist but now reached up to take the box from you before looking back into your eyes with a glint of something in his own that you couldn’t put your finger on.

“let me know if it fits you or you don’t like it and i can return it…” suddenly self-conscious, you started twisting the ring he had given you on your one year anniversary around your finger. it had become a habit when you were nervous to fidget with the band engraved with his initial. he picked up on this as well, but instead of commenting he simply opened the box carefully. a smile instantly cut across his face when he figured out what was engraved on the pendant of the thin, shiny silver bracelet. then you could also tell that he noticed the small note attached to the inside of the lid.

day one of my forever <3

“is this the date of when i actually like finally for real asked you to be my girlfriend?” he said through the grin that had only widened after looking at your expectant expression. as obsessed and endeared by him as you were, he was sure he was at least eight times more enamored with you. you let out a laugh at his description, nodding to confirm.

“yeah i thought, maybe you should have something of us too. obviously something not too flashy because… you know. but i just thought it would be cute. i can get the chain adjusted if it’s too short or-“

he cut you off with a kiss to your cheek, pulling you in for a hug and kissing your hair when he had you close enough.

“it’s perfect baby. thank you so much…” he trailed off, swaying with you in his arms (still in the doorway.) after a couple minutes, he breathed in slowly and deeply before speaking again.

“i feel like you’re always doing these things for me, and i can never reciprocate.” you could’ve sworn his voice cracked at the end of his sentence which alarmed you because he was almost never choked up and especially not over a bracelet. instead of pulling away to look at him (because you knew he probably wouldn’t let you if he was actually crying) you patted his back, holding him tight too.

“aw baby,” you reassured him, “i don’t do this for anything in return. this is just how i show my love. i love you unconditionally anddon’t expect anything from you on top of everything you already do for me.” now you did pull away, slightly pushing him backwards by his chest. you only briefly acknowledged how his eyes were just a bit shinier than normal and instead pulled his face to yours with both hands now that they were free.

kissing him in between phrases you tried to tell him how you felt.

“you’re so sweet to me,”

“always cheering me up,”

“making sure i get good sleep, if i’ve taken my vitamins,” he was chasing your mouth at this point, nearly drunk from how much affection was pouring out of you.

“hugging me~”

“holding me~”

“making me laugh~”

“and, you give me gifts too.” with a final kiss you stood back and patted his chest and continued, “so basically, don’t feel bad. you just express it differently. and i’ve never doubted your love. not even once. okay?”

he hid his face in your neck and pressed his lips against the skin there, dragging his mouth back and forth making you shiver and thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

“okay… well i really do love it. and i love you,” he kissed your neck and continued as his lips ghosted upwards towards your ear, “you know i’d do anything for you don’t you?”

“yes…i do…” your answer was airy as you could only whisper trying to keep your knees from buckling with how close he was. obviously, he was unaware of the effect he was having on you because he keptgoing, moving upwards and inhaling audibly before kissing your cheek, finally ghosting over the corner of your mouth until pressing against your lips full on. you responded immediately, giving in to his original request (a mutually beneficial one).

surprisingly, he pulled away before you, just far enough that you could look into his eyes but still feel his warm breath on your face.

“you know i keep everything you give me. every letter, the movie tickets from our dates, i even still have that little shell you found at the beach and gave to me just because it was pretty.” now he was smiling again, petting your hair and straightening his posture upwards so his mouth was level with your forehead, leaving yet another kiss there. you hadn’t said anything to his confession, stunned that things you thought were insignificant meant so much to him. your lack of response didn’t faze him because he knew what you meant to say just from the way you looked up at him.

“come on, help me put this on then we can get some food, i’m starving.”

“you didn’t eat?” you asked him with a frown, now grabbing the fabric of his hoodie at his wrists that were hanging onto your shoulders.

instead of answering right away, he just straightened his arms more, starting to step forward forcing you to walk backwards, you could only laugh a bit at how you both had to waddle all the way to the couch.

“nah, i ate earlier today but i left before the guys did so i could see you.” he belatedly replied, looking a bit too happy with his decision even in the face of your glare (even though he had tried to explain to you that it was more adorable than menacing). you spared him the lecture about taking care of himself because all that mattered now was that he was here, and you could take care of him all you wanted.

he flopped onto the couch with a loud sigh, swiftly pulling you down too with the grip he had on you. you scooted back, getting more comfortable when he guided your legs over his lap throwing his head over the back of the sofa with his eyes closed. you could see the exhaustion in his face and let out a small breath too, causing him to open one eye to check on you only to find you looking back at him fondly. you reached towards his hand that was still grasping the jewelry box, but he seemed to think that you meant to hold his hand because he grabbed your fingers as soon as they touched the cool leather of the box.

“i was trying to help you put this on, silly.”

“oh” was all he could say, the tips of his ears red as he tried to calm his heart down, letting go of the gift and wondering if it was always going to be this nerve-wracking being around you.

he hoped so.

he was still looking at you with visible  heart eyes by the time you finished securing the bracelet around his wrist. before you removed your left hand, he softly held your fingers over his palm, admiring the ring on your middle finger.

“you wear this every day huh?” he said, chest puffing with pride at his girl wearing a ring with his name. he only saw your nod out of the corner of his eye before getting lost back in thought. he began stroking the finger next to it, your ring finger. he took a pause, with his eyes still fixed on your hand. “there’ll be a ring here next, i promise.”

you didn’t even have a chance to say anything before he leaned over to leave a quick kiss on your lips before continuing like nothing had happened. the tension dissipated just as easily as he had built it up, giving you major whiplash (which actually was nothing new with him).

“i’m thinking chicken, whatchu want girl?” he was teasing you now, squeezing the flesh of your exposed thigh, his bracelet cool against your skin. his other hand maneuvered his phone out of his pocket. your mind was still replaying his words from just a second ago, so you responded dazedly,

“whatever you want baby.” you replied simply, truly just wanting him to eat at all.

“aw, i have everything i want but i would also like some fried chicken.” he replied looking all too pleased with himself.

“how romantic.” you said flippantly, adjusting your position onto your knees to look at his phone screen for the menu. after about 30 seconds you realized he was staring at you again. when you turned your head to face him, he grinned as if this was his plan all along.

“hi.” he said simply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. it was your turn to be flustered now as you could feel your face heating up, but you still didn’t want to look away.

“hello...”

he looked at you for a moment.

“you’re so pretty, did you know that?”

he says this often, and still, it never fails to make your heart skip a beat.

“my boyfriend has told me that once or twice…”

“hm, seems like your boyfriend is slacking, what ever could he do to show you how special you are?” he played right along.

“well, he could kiss me right now for starters…”

“that’s a simple enough request.” he was already leaning in with his nose brushing yours. you met him there, parting your lips when he lightly grabbed your cheeks. he hastily slid his tongue in and pressed you impossibly close, practically panting into your mouth when you reciprocated just as eagerly. his eyes were still closed and his chest was rising and falling just a tad heavier than usual when you pulled away from him.

this only lasted for five seconds before he was already guiding you towards his face by the back of your neck so you had to talk against his mouth.

“my boyfriend…allllways shows me how pretty and special i am to him.” you kissed him once, “i have no complaints.” another kiss “love him more than he knows.” a final kiss to his lips, another on the beauty mark on each of his cheeks and a final one to his nose before attempting to sit back up.

this whole time you had been hovering over him sideways, only being held up by your hand on his knee. it was such an awkward position you tried to return to your original arrangement but he refused, tugging you closer and manipulating your hips until you were sat with your back on his chest.

“there we go, now you can help me order.” he rested his cheek on your head and turned his face a bit to kiss you there several times.

“you know what i like baby, i trust you to order.”

“yeah i do know what you like, i could show you if you want…” you couldn’t see him but you know he was smirking and raising his eyebrows suggestively like he always did when he tried to start something.

“can you order the food first and then show me?”

“can you kiss me again?”

“mark.”

“ok my bad, my bad.” finally paying for the food he all but threw his phone to the side and almost instantaneously flipping you (as delicately as possible) with your back to the couch, hovering over you.

“wow, somebody is excited.” you teased before holding in your breath when he put his face in your neck, immediately mouthing at it.

“wanted to be with my girl allll day, you gonna deny me of it?” he leaned back up over you, with a pleading look on his face. he knew if you didn’t really want his affection, you’d say it, so it was a half-rhetorical question.

“no, no, carry on cutie pie”

he groaned at this making you giggle, knowing how calling him cute makes him want to prove something. it was a fun trick you liked to pull out every once in a while.

“ugh dude, you’re killing the moment right now, we were having a moment.”

you opted to trail your finger along the neckline of his hoodie and lifting your knee upwards so it brushed the inside of his thigh. his expression was one of slight panic which always satisfied you when you got to have your moments.

“so sorry baby, let’s go have a moment anywhere but this couch my neck is already getting tweaked i can feel it.”

with your green light, he got impatient all over again. he tugged you up off the couch with him, practically vibrating with anticipation. he couldn’t even wait to kiss you again, eagerly pressing his lips to yours once you got on your feet.

“i really do love the gift baby, and i love you, can’t wait to wear it everywhere. love you so much…” he was whispering against your mouth between each kiss, grabbing at your sides.

he had a tendency to be insatiable.

you had tangled your fingers in his hair in his frenzy and now worked to smooth down the strands. cooing at him,

“aw i love you too, you’re so sweet baby, and handsome, and if i recall correctly, were just offering to show me something…” you brought him back to the task at hand and he was quick with his response, nudging you towards the bedroom.

“wayyy ahead of you.”

the food could wait.

[enden-agolor]

i fucking LOVE the way you draw/write jesse, as someone with a chubby/buff build i kind of struggle with insecurities about my size but the way you draw him makes me feel very good. idk im describing it badly but i wanted to ask if your design for him is more chubby or muscly?

Dude thank you 🥺🩵 You described it very well.

It really depends on which time frame I'm drawing Jesse in actually.

In the beginning, I imagine Jesse is quite scrawny. I mean did you see his work out routine in the beginning? He was was doing sit ups and punching flowers. He was definitely lacking muscle (but had enough to be able to lift Reuben up and down that ladder) and as the first couple episodes progress, he stays scrawny but progressively becomes more scarred up until the Portal Hallway episodes.

The Portal Hallway episodes, it takes place many months after the events of the Witherstorm. Jesse and his friends are going on many more adventures, really honing their skills that they acquired over the past few months. Jesse is much more built now. He's buff and tough with the true heart of a hero. Although, once he and his friends get stuck in the Portal Hall, that's when things take a really devastating turn for him. Feeling hopeless and lost for weeks on end, he begins to feel withdrawn from the positivity he was feeling before he ended up stuck here. Traumatic events keep occuring, and with these events, Jesse is of course drawn to remember and replay the events of Reuben's death in his head. He keeps the most of these feelings to himself because his group is already feeling so disheartened about their current situation that the last thing he'd want for them is to know that he's breaking emotionally, so he ends up taking less care of himself. He starts eating with the idea that he has to stay strong for his friends, but even those moments are rare. Food is scarce depending on what portal they are in, so when he finds food, he'll take anything that will keep his energy and strengths up.

By the end of it all, he's actually put on a significant amount of muscle. But it's kind of like a 'at what cost?' scenario.

Things get a bit better for him between then and Season 2 where he's eating better again and keeping all that muscle, but once Season 2 comes and goes, and with everything that happens in the Sunshine Institute and the Underneath, he loses a lot of weight.

It's only after Season 2, where he stays in BeaconTown and eventually finds a love life with Lukas when he really begins putting on weight once again. He's done with hero work. He's done with going on crazy life threatening adventures. Now he just wants to live life for himself rather than putting others first. Lukas helps him a lot through this, with body positivity and lots of love and affectionate touch, it's all the reassurance Jesse has ever needed to feel okay with being himself again. So he ends up putting on that happy weight that couples typically adopt over time when they're in a healthy relationship. Lukas treats him so, so unbelievably well. Finally Jesse gets to eat food for himself without the idea of needing to keep himself strong and powerful once he's finally retired. He indulges himself in his sweet tooth and loves to eat cookies, cakes, and other baked goods that Lukas will bake or bring home. He also really enjoys the fact that he doesn't have to eat alone anymore. He loves sitting at the table and enjoying a meal with his hubby. And the best part, which is something Jesse was horribly self conscious about, is that Lukas loves and adores his pudge. He is so supportive of Jesse's eating habits, but he doesn't hesitate to sneak veggies and fruits into Jesse's lunch box for work.

So yeah uh Jesse is chubby, buff and loved at the end of it all 😍

Here's some lil doodles of him I have lying around. The first one is pretty old and could probably use a touch up since now I don't see much of a difference, but you get the point ☠️

[astroboots]

Every You Every Me | Issue #7

COLLABORATED WITH @thirstworldproblemss

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You finally get some answers out of Miguel about who you are to him.

Word count: 5,700 words.

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss' Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

"So let's take it from the top," you tell him, as you sit down and put down the Trenta-sized caramel flavored hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and chocolate syrup in front of the man named Miguel O'Hara.

The two of you are sitting across from each other at a small booth at the nearest Starbucks you were able to find, seeing as you're homeless now, and there's nowhere else you could think of to go.

He's dressed in a large fitted hoodie that drapes down to his thighs. Where he's managed to find something that is oversized in length on him, you don't know because he's not exactly short.

"I'm from a dimension known as Earth-928," Miguel says.

Before he can continue, you raise one hand, and you can see his right eyebrow twitch unhappily at the interruption. 

"Yes?"

"Just to clarify, so we don't have another ‘coffee cake’ misunderstanding. When you say Earth-928, do you mean a different version of the Earth we’re on now? Or is this a habitable planet in another galaxy that happens to be partially named Earth?"

"It's a parallel universe characterized by distinct physical parameters and initial conditions, accounting for the diverse manifestations of our observable universe. So still Earth," he says, sweeping his gaze across the café, nose wrinkling the way one does when there's something off-putting in their vicinity. "Just a little bit less primitive."

Of course he would say that, wouldn't be able to resist the jab would he.

You peer up at him across the table. He is very technical and thorough with his explanations. But as grateful as you are for him finally being willing to answer your questions, you hadn't expected those answers to be quite so information dense. You need to pick your questions more carefully or you are going to have to go down the street to buy yourself a notebook in order to keep up.

"How did you end up on this Earth?" you ask.

"Where I'm from, I'm a scientist, a researcher. One of the things I studied was the theory of physical cosmology and the existence of the multiverse. My work was concentrated on the theoretical ability to navigate between distinct universes within a hypothetical multiverse–”

Ah shit, you should've been more narrow in your question. Should have asked him to simplify it a bit more for you. Because now you're sitting here blinking up at him, pretending you understand half of what he's saying. 

It makes sense that he’s STEM. He speaks like the type. Smart as hell with none of the social skills to gauge whether the other person is following the conversation. 

Listening to him reminds you of that time in college, when you'd walked into the wrong lecture hall, wound up in advanced chemistry instead of your math class, felt too awkward to leave and just sat there drawing doodles with an attentive expression until the class was over. 

And he’s still at it, “– employing advanced mechanisms that manipulate or transcend conventional spacetime frameworks, enabling exploration–"

"Okay, wait, hold on a sec," you interrupt, once it becomes obvious he’s not going to stop any time soon on his own. "Can you... simplify, please?"

He stops mid-sentence, taking a deep breath as he looks up at the ceiling and considers your request, with a serious expression as if he's thinking really hard on it. "I’m a scientist. I study the multiverse. I built a parallel universe traversal device, it allows me to visit different dimensions." Your brain feels insulted that it clearly took more mental effort for him to dumb it down for you than to just give the supergenius version.

“So… a machine that allows you to jump between alternative universes?” 

“Yes.” 

There’s a pause between you as you run through the questions in your mental list you want to tick off now that he’s turned cooperative and talkative. But with everything that’s happened in the last handful of hours, a lot of the questions you previously had seemed outdated. The one question, the most important one, you’ve wanted to ask from the start though remains. 

"Who am I to you?"

Miguel takes the large sized drink in his even larger hands and somehow this big paper cup still manages to look tiny in his grip. "You and I were... involved," he says.

You frown. ‘Involved’ is such a vague term. It belongs in the trash with other useless terms to describe relationships: “situationship”, “complicated”, you hate them all. 

"So I was your girlfriend?"

"Yeah, something like that," he concede, fidgeting with the thin gold chain looped around his neck, his eyes not quite meeting yours, like he's embarrassed to use the term.

‘Something like that,’ you chew on his answer unhappily, sympathizing with your other dimensional self and how the other you seemed to have snagged a commitment phobe. 

Other-you, who isn’t here in this dimension with Miguel. You wonder why that is. 

"What happened to me?" you ask.

His eyes are glued to the table,  not looking up at you as he answers you in a voice so quiet you can barely hear it. "She died."

"Oh."

The revelation shouldn’t take you by surprise. 

Every time Miguel’s brought up your other self, it’s been tinted with earth-shattering sadness. It's not hard to put one and one together and come to the conclusion that whatever happened to you in this other dimension didn't end happily.

Still it's an odd feeling to know that out there, somewhere, a version of you has died. A version of you that was clearly very important to the man in front of you.

"I'm sorry," you tell him.

It feels silly to say. It's bizarre to give your condolences over your own parallel death, but Miguel looks so heartbroken. He’s slumped in his seat, large shoulders rounded until his frame looks so much smaller than you're used to, and you don't know what else to do.

"So what is happening to me now," you start, not sure how to word what the phenomena that you're going through is, "these continuous near-death experiences, is that how she died?"

"Yeah."

"And do you know why that... kept happening to her? Why is it happening to me?"

"I don't, and I don't know how to stop it. Believe me I tried."

He cradles the paper cup in his hands, the grip a little bit tighter now until he's creasing the paper and the caramel liquid oozes and leaks from the top.

"What I do know is that the universe isn’t going to stop trying to kill you, no matter what you do. And with every near death incident you manage to survive, these incidents will escalate in nature, until..." he stops, eyes flickering away from the cup to meet yours, but it's like he loses courage and doesn't want to say the last part.

"Until, what?" you prompt.

"Until your dimension collapses."

The blood freezes in your veins. "Wait, collapses!? What do you mean?"

"I can't guarantee it will happen again. But that's what happened last time. When the other you kept cheating death, the universe eventually started to collapse in on itself."

You slump back in your chair, trying to process what you've just been told. What does that mean? That even if you managed to defy all odds to survive, doing so would doom the rest of this universe as you know it?

"When will that happen?" you ask, and you're surprised you manage to get the words out because there is a hard lump in your throat that makes it hurt to even swallow.

"Judging from the trajectory and escalation of events, you have about three months give or take."

The two of you sit in heavy silence, for the moment you're not sure what else to ask him. Because it feels like you are trapped in a building looking for an exit sign, but all that’s tacked onto the brick wall is your death certificate, waiting to be signed and formalized.

There’s no way out. Nowhere to go.

"Give me your hand," he says, breaking the silence. 

You give it to him without hesitation, watching, puzzled, as he takes off his watch and secures it around your wrists.

"Why are you giving me your watch?"

"It's not a watch," he says, then he presses something on the face of it, and an image of a young woman flickers into existence in the space above your wrist, vaguely see-through. A hologram!

"This is Lyla," he introduces.

Wait, wait? Lyla? As in your mom Lyla? You watch the tiny woman floating above your wrist. Short bob-cut, and flashy heart-shaped sunglasses, with a twinkle in her eye. 

The hologram looks nothing like your mom. You part your mouth, about to ask about the name but you're interrupted by the energetic buzz of a female voice greeting you.

"Boss-girl! Long time no see. Want me to catch you up on the latest multiversal gossip? I compiled an edit of highlights set to Despacito."

"Lyla," Miguel warns, tersely. "Not now."

"Ruuuuude! You're the one who woke me up you know."

"Lyla, go back to sleep."

The female avatar grumbles, but then her image flickers away and the watch turns back into, as far as you can tell, just an ordinary watch.

"Why did you name the watch Lyla?"

"It's not a– " He cuts himself off, sighing with exasperation. "Lyla is an advanced A.I. she's going to be with you at all times. She's an added layer of security, built to protect you."

He didn't answer your question. Completely sidestepped it as if the two of you are having two different conversations.

Built to protect you, he'd said. Does that mean he still intends to do that?

"So you're not going to leave?" you ask him.

He leans back in his seat, eyes drifting towards the table. "No."

You look up at him, stumped. Not sure you're understanding what he's saying. Because not even a few hours ago, when the two of you were in your apartment, this man was adamant there was nothing to be done to save you. That he was going to leave and you were never going to see him again.

Right now though, his actions seem to be contradictory to that. You can't make heads or tails of him. Hot and cold doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

"Why not?" you ask, "I mean, not that I’m not grateful, but you seemed pretty set on the whole ‘I can’t save you’ thing. What changed your mind?"

“You did.” His eyes narrow as he looks down at you, crossing his arms ever his chest, "You told me you wanted to live. Have you changed your mind already?"

“Wha– NO! I just want to know why you changed yours.”

“I–” He hesitates, another wave of sadness passing over his face. “I’m a superhero. I save people… or try to. It’s what I do. I’m not gonna just leave you to die after you tell me you want to live.”

It’s a good answer, even if you don’t buy that it’s the whole truth. 

You look down at your wrist, and the shiny chrome of the not-watch he's just gifted you winks back up at you. "Do you think I have a chance of surviving all this?"

"It's pretty hopeless," he says, and there’s no break in his expression as he continues. "Your chances of making it out alive are pretty much mathematically impossible."

It's odd though. Even though he's outlining the futility of your situation, basically telling you to raise the white flag and surrender, there's something contradictory in the tone of his voice. 

"What do you want to do?" he asks you.

It’s a challenge, you realize. An encouragement. He has faith in you. It's all of these things rolled into one. As if he's telling you to prove the universe wrong.

"I want to live," you answer. "If the universe collapses in three months, then please stay with me. Give me time to solve this and find a way to stay alive."

His mouth curls into a hint of a smile. The very first you've seen from him since you've met. It's bright and boyish, erasing the harsh lines of his stern expression until it gives way for something much softer underneath that makes your heart leap in your chest with triumph.

You grin, a strange elation of happiness buzzing in you as you stretch out your hand to him, in an invitation for a handshake to seal the deal.

"Deal?"

Miguel leans over the table, clasping your hand in his much larger one as he squeezes it back gently.

"Deal." That small smile from before is still there. "So what's next?" he asks.

The thing you never realized, being an ordinary person bereft of super genes or other superhuman powers is just how convenient commuting can be if you have them. 

No longer do you have to brave the Lynchian nightmare that is the NYC subway system. Half-naked manic street preachers giving sermons as you’re held hostage, with nowhere else to go in the carriage. Being chased down by a drunk trumpeting Mariachi band. Instead, all you need to do to get from point A to point B (A: being the Chrysler building and B: the building formerly known as your home) is to hold on tight to Miguel as he swings you both above the city gridlock.

You imagine that this is what paragliding must feel like, except it's so much better because here you don't have to do the safety training beforehand or pay $3,000 for the privilege.

The city skyline is a dark evening blue, dotted with the sparkling lights of office buildings, cab roof lights and street lamps, as the wind ruffles through the fabric of your clothes.

It's such a different sight when you're flying above instead of walking on the streets below, that you don't even clock that you're in your neighborhood, until you see a building with a collapsed wall that's been blocked off, looking like a crash site. Only then do you realize... you're home.

Miguel carefully sets you down on your feet on a small patch of concrete that is clear of the rubble and destruction.

"Why did you want to come back here again?" he asks. 

It’s a good question. Now that you're here, standing in the middle of charred debris and cracked bricks, you're not sure either. You had some vague plans of seeing what you could salvage, hoping for some clothes, maybe your electric toothbrush, or really just any of your stuff. Something that’s yours, no matter how small, to hold on to after the events of today have ripped away life as you know it.

But there’s nothing left. The furniture, all your books and knick knacks, and even your dirty laundry piles have been demolished. Your home as you know it is gone. There's only piles and piles of rubble and traces of white fire extinguisher foam on the ground. The fire has been out for hours, but the pungent smell of smoke and sulfur still pervades the air. 

"You okay?" Miguel asks.

He's still standing at the outer edges of the apartment, close to where your window would have been if a helicopter hadn't crashed through it.

"Yeah... I guess the silver lining is that I didn't have anything expensive. Though it'd been nice if I could've saved my mom's Le Creuset set or at least the nanny-cam so I could return it and get a refund," you joke glibly. 

You nudge aside some concrete rubble with the cap of your shoes. There's nothing under there, no treasured memorabilia that's still miraculously intact. Just more burnt concrete and rubble.

"Why did you have a nanny cam?"

You turn around at his question, to see him hovering close to you, one eyebrow raised with an unhappy set to his jaw. 

From the displeased expression on his face, he's probably misunderstanding something here. Probably thinks you're operating a very unlucrative Onlyfans business, when what you've really been doing is spy on him and his nightly visits. You don't know which is worse to confess to, so you don't confess to anything.

"No reason," you say, ignoring the way his already raised eyebrow twitches with irritation at your lack of an answer.

"Come on, let's go," he says, and he waves towards you in a come hither motion like he's commanding a dog.

"Go?" you ask him. "It's past midnight. My place, as you can see, is wrecked. Go where exactly?"

Miguel shoots you a strange look. "A hotel," he says, like it's the most obvious thing, and– okay, he's not completely wrong in that assumption.

Problem is, you didn't have time to pick up your wallet or phone before your impromptu interdimensional visit. They’ve been incinerated along with all the rest of your worldly possessions, which means you don't have any way to pay for a hotel.

Plus Manhattan hotel prices average $400 a night. Even if you still had access to your debit cards, your budget’s pretty tight right now after all the capital you invested in your unhinged quest to trap the superhero before you. 

"In the city? I don't have that kind of money and it will take months for any insurance payouts to come in."

You should know. As an insurance claims adjuster, you know you’ll be lucky if your claim is processed before the end of the year. And, ugh, just the thought of the paperwork you’ll have to fill out is enough to give you an anxiety migraine.

"I’ll cover the room," Miguel says casually before holding out a hand to you, "Come on, let’s go."

When Miguel said he’d cover it, you expected a reasonably-priced room at one of the Days Inn across the river or the like. Hopefully a place with no rats or bed bugs, and maybe clean bedding over a somewhat comfortable mattress for you to pass out on if you were lucky.

You didn't expect this.

Standing in front of the Midtown Four Seasons, you find yourself on sleek marble so polished you can see your own reflection. You haven't even stepped a foot inside yet and there are two old fashioned doormen, wearing immaculately fitted suits, with an even more impressive posture opening the majestic double-set doors for you as you approach.

It's swanky as hell, and you can’t help gawking like a tourist, eyes glued to the decadent carved ceilings that must be at least 30 feet tall, soaring above you. Honey-colored limestone that looks like it’s been looted from Ancient Rome.

You feel more than a little bit out of place. This is way outside of your budget. You could probably work your job for a lifetime, and not have enough disposable income to stay the night at a place like this.

"Uhm, Miguel... this place is way too–" you start, turning towards him.

But as you were busy lamenting the state of the housing market, he's already walked away from you (for such a bulky guy, he moves swiftly and silently) and as you whip your head around to find him, he's already standing in front of the receptionist.

Damned antelope legged man, would it kill him to wait up for you once in a while? You run up after him and have to tip-toe in order to see over his shoulder because the giant mammoth is blocking the check-in counter.

And wow, even the receptionist here is of a different caliber than the ones you'd find at Holiday Inn. A fashionable bob-cut with razor sharp edges, looking like a model cut out from a Vogue cover.

"Do you have a reservation, Sir?"

You half-expect him to say no, and that the two of you would have to tuck your tail between your legs and walk out of here to the backdrop of a sad trombone playing.

To your astonishment he says your name. The receptionist tip-taps away at her keyboard and then she nods and smiles gracefully at you both. 

"Yes of course. After reviewing your reservation details, I am pleased to inform you that all necessary arrangements have already been made, including advance payment and verification of your identification. Your room is ready for you, we trust you will enjoy your stay."

She flashes you a pearly white smile so shiny it's almost blinding and hands you a hotel key card. 

When you turn around, to your confusion Miguel is no longer next to you. How does he keep disappearing like this? 

"Cielito," Miguel’s voice calls. The nickname doesn’t register at first. It doesn't even occur to you that he’s referring to you, until he barks it out a second time. 

Your head darts up to see him standing by the elevator, tapping his feet impatiently as he waits for you to make it over to him.

"How did you do that?" you whisper loudly to him as you step into the elevator. "Where did you get my ID? How did you make a reservation? How did you--"

He takes your hand, mid-sentence, turning your wrist upwards and taps the watch.

"The computer systems in this universe are child's play for Lyla to manipulate. Reservations, money, ID, she can take care of all of that easily," he explains.

"She can do that?" you ask, and Miguel merely nods at you as the elevator closes behind the two of you.

You tip your head down to inspect your gifted watch. In awe of this technical marvel that would make Siri look like it’s from the stone-ages. You wonder if she can boost your credit scores. She could probably hack any wi-fi password so you'd never have to worry about data throttling again. She could get you table reservations for Libertine! The possibilities are endless!

You turn to Miguel. "Can Lyla get me Beyoncé tickets?" you ask. 

He just shakes his head at you with what almost qualifies as an amused smile.

The room upstairs is massive. 

It’s easily three times the size of your little studio apartment, and the ceilings are twice as tall, with a hanging glass chandelier that’s sparkling bright enough to blind you. It looks like one of those places featured in Architectural Digest. 

Everything is in an art deco style, with expensive looking furniture and even more expensive art hanging on the one spare wall that isn’t covered in floor to ceiling windows. There are large shelves and a sleek looking kitchen, complete with an opulent looking velvet lounge chair of emerald green that looks like something a Roman emperor would be fed grapes on. 

In this colossal space of a room, there is only one bed. One colossal, plush-mattress-topped, goose down duvet and probably 1,000,000,000 thread count sheet covered bed.

You tense up, not sure what the arrangements Miguel had in mind. Did he want the two of you to sleep in the same bed?

Miguel did pay for the room, so you’re not going to start voicing objections. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time in the short time span that you two have known each other to do that. This bed is also a lot wider than your tiny double bed, so it wouldn’t be the cramped disaster it was last night. You’d just have to make sure to use the bathroom before bed this time so he doesn’t jab your full bladder in the morning again. 

Without saying anything, Miguel strides across the length of the room with impatient and determined steps. His hand reaches for the balcony doors and slides them open. 

"Wait wait, where are you going?" you ask him as you run up to the middle of the room. 

“I’m sleeping outside,” he says over his shoulder, and your mind boggles with that. 

“Why? Isn’t it better for you to stay here?”

"This is the 62nd floor. That’s about as safe as you’re going to get. I’ll keep a lookout to make sure no more helicopters come crashing in.” 

You’re not sure if he means the last part as a joke or not, but as you watch his broad back retreating as he walks away from you, a sickening sort of the deja vu twists through your chest. 

I can’t save you, he’d said back in your apartment, Nothing can. 

The feeling clawing at your chest feels alarmingly like panic. It screams that he’s leaving you. That he’s never coming back. That you’ll never see him again. 

You’re being irrational, and you know it. You remind yourself that he wouldn’t have done this much for you only to bail in the middle of the night, but that doesn’t stop the fear that’s festering, sharp and urgent, under your skin, or the way your heart races, your whole body flashing hot and cold at the same time. 

You want him to stay. 

“Miguel,” you call out, and he immediately stops and turns to look back at you, one eyebrow raised in a skeptical question. 

Please stay. 

You open your mouth, but the words won’t come out. You can’t ask this man—this big, sarcastic, rude hulk of a man—to have a sleepover with you because you’re scared to be alone in the dark. He would laugh you out of the hotel room.

“Uhm… thank you,” you say instead, but it’s no less sincere, “For everything.”

His eyes soften, the sharp narrowness of them easing up. “It’s fine,” he mumbles, and despite the cold chill of the evening, you think you can see a faint flush blooming in his cheeks, before he quickly ducks his face from you. “I’ll be right outside if something happens.” 

He turns back around and walks out, closing the patio doors with a gentle click behind him, leaving you by yourself. 

It’s quiet. 

You survey the empty room you’re in. Without Miguel’s large frame taking up space, it seems even bigger than it did before. 

It’s a beautiful room. Something that you’re pretty sure you’ve seen in a movie set. You don’t know why you’re not as excited as you were before. This is you living your Pretty Woman moment. You should be filling up the big jacuzzi tub you saw with bubbles. Heck, maybe ask Lyla to order you a bottle of champagne from room service. 

Instead, your eyes linger on the glass patio doors leading to the balcony terrace. You walk over to the bed, perching yourself down on the edge of the mattress, then flop down. 

Might as well try to sleep, you think to yourself as you climb under the covers and switch off the light. The best thing you can do right now is catch yourself some rest so you’ll be alert while trying to figure out your next steps tomorrow.

3 months… That’s what Miguel told you.

That’s all the time you have left. 

That means you don’t have time to waste, but you also have no idea where to start. The local library doesn’t exactly carry any resources on how to stop the universe from trying to kill you. 

The Universe. 

An infinite cosmos, grander than any human being can possibly comprehend. This vast space containing all the galaxies with its billions of stars and planets, where an individual being does not even register as a speck, and it wants you dead. How can you possibly fight against those odds? 

You lie wide-eyed and awake staring into the dark of the room, and the feeling of dread gnaws into you. 

You don’t want to be alone right now. Turning in the bed, your eyes find their way back to the blank slate of the pitched night outside the balcony doors. 

You really wished he had stayed with you. 

Sitting upright in the bed, you consider your options. You can lie back down. Suffer insomnia and the existential horror of knowing the universe is trying to murder you. Or you can man up, swallow down whatever tiny morsel of your pride you have left and ask Miguel to come back inside and stay with you. 

Flinging the duvet from your body, you get up to walk over to the balcony. You hesitate for a moment before tapping the window pane the way you might knock on a door, giving a polite head's up before you slide the balcony patio open. But when you poke your head out, turning your head left and right, Miguel's nowhere to be found. 

Okay, that’s weird. He said he’d be right outside if you needed him. You walk up to the ledge of the balcony terrace, leaning over the rail and peer down to see him dangling upside down, from the ledge of your balcony. The sight nearly makes you scream. 

"Miguel!” 

At you calling his name, he pulls himself up, one clawed hand gripping at the concrete wall as he climbs his way up and over to you. He makes it look easy, as if gravity does not exist for him, and it’s only a moment until he’s perched on the ledge of the balcony, facing you. 

“What’s wrong?” he demands, eyes concerned, and you’re suddenly aware of how very close he is. His face mere inches from yours, your noses nearly touching.

“What’s wrong? You’re hanging upside down from the 62nd floor! What are you, a bat?!"

“Why did you come out here?” he clarifies, and his words give you pause. You try to gather your thoughts after the bizarre sight you just walked into and remember what you came out here for. 

He’s still looking at you with his full and intense concentration that makes your skin prickle with warmth.

God, it’s embarrassing to ask. You feel like you’re five years old, asking your parents to turn the nightlight on, even though you know you’re a big girl now and aren’t supposed to be afraid of monsters hiding under your bed any more. 

You look down on your hands, where you’re wringing them together, then back up at him, and make yourself spit it out, "Could you… maybe… stay with me tonight?" 

His eyes widen at your question, but he doesn’t actually answer you and gives you no physical indication one way or the other. 

"I feel safer when you're with me,” you admit. 

“I am with you out here,” he counters, because of course he can’t make this easy for you.  

“I can’t see you out here.”

The line of his shoulder eases, and he ducks his head down with a resigned sigh. "Fine. Get back inside, Cielito. You're going to catch a cold like this."

You shuffle back inside to your bed, watching out of the corner of your eye as  he follows you inside and settles himself on the lounge sofa. He’s so tall that his feet are sticking out over the armrests, like a long-legged stork. 

Hiding a smile, you climb back into bed, wrapping the bedding all around yourself.

“Good night,” you call out, and he makes a grumpy noise of acknowledgment. 

Your head drops back onto the soft pillow, and you close your eyes, ready to sleep. It’s such a nice bed. The sheets are cool and soft against your skin and smell of fresh eucalyptus. The mattress is the most comfortable you ever remember resting on, firm but somehow soft at the same time. You feel like you’re sleeping on a cloud. 

Moments go by, and you revel in the sumptuous bed, waiting for the best sleep of your life to claim you. 

Except it doesn’t. 

Somehow… you still can’t fall asleep. Is it… too soft maybe? You turn in the bed, twisting your torso to get into a position you can comfortably sink into, but something doesn’t feel right. There’s no lumpiness like at home, but that should be a good thing. 

Except… despite the decadent softness of the bed. Despite the fact that the sheets probably have a thread count with more zeros than your checking and savings accounts combined. Despite all of the luxury that surrounds you, you still find yourself tossing and turning and wide fucking awake.

The bed is too big. You don’t know what to do with all this space. Your body is not accustomed to this sort of decadence. What if you suffocate sinking into this soft fluffy pillow in your sleep? What if you toss and turn until you fall off this massive bed and break your neck? Maybe that’s how out of all of the universe’s attempts to kill you, you end up dying? 

Fuck! 

You can’t sleep. 

You turn to your side and stare into the velvet lounge chaise on the opposite side of your room, where Miguel is. 

Quietly, you pad up to his still form until you’re standing in front of him and hunch over, trying to decide how rude it would be to wake him up again when there's nothing he can do about your stupid insomnia anyway.

In the dim light, you spot something glinting at you. Looking closer, you notice that the thin chain looped around his neck has escaped his shirt to pool on the fabric of the sofa cushion under him. You gently drag the loose end of the necklace toward you, and find a smooth golden band threaded onto it.

Picking it up cautiously, you flip it in your hand and find that there's something engraved on the inside.  It's hard to see in the darkness, but when you lean closer and squint your eyes, you can just make out what it says.

'MO'—undeniably the initials of one Miguel O'Hara.

Twisting the ring slightly, you find a tiny plus sign followed by your own initials, and your heart drops into the pit of your stomach.

Oh.

The memory of sitting across Miguel at Starbucks returns to you, when you had asked him who you were to him. You think of the avoidant gaze and how he couldn't look you in the eye.

‘Something like that,’ huh?

Guess the other you wasn't just his girlfriend after all, you think, chest drawn so tight it’s painful.

Holding the wedding band in the palm of your hand, you slide down to sit down on the floor with your back pressed against the chaise lounge.

Your heart aches for the man in front of you and everything he's lost.  You really, really hope you're not going to end up as just another regret on his list.

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: As always to my best friend @thirstworldproblemss I am half asleep and running on fumes. I'm wording things poorly but I just want you to know that I am very happy I have you. Thank you for being my friend and for the time we get to spend together. I have the most fun when I'm with you.

Also to @guruan who is my muse, my source of inspiration. This chapter is dedicated to her because have you seen this beautiful piece of artwork she did for EYEM?!

[estellan0vella]

Robbery Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU Pt2

You sit at the counter of the parlour, sketching random designs in your notebook while chatting with Gojo. Your best friend since high school, Gojo recently joined the shop as a piercer, and his cheerful banter has become a daily highlight.

"Hey, Y/N/N," Gojo says, leaning over to peek at your sketches. "That's some good stuff. Ever thought about doing the tattoos?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "Nah, I'm happy just doodling. Leave the ink to the pros."

Gojo grins, his bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe I'll just have to convince you one day."

Across the room, Sukuna is working on a client's back piece, his concentration intense and unwavering. His presence is commanding, even when he's completely focused on his work. Toji and Geto are busy with their own clients, exchanging jokes and stories as they ink intricate designs.

The door chimes as someone walks in, and you glance up out of habit. A man stands in the doorway, looking out of place and nervous. Your eyes narrow slightly as you take in the sight of the gun he's trying to hide under his jacket.

"Uh, everybody freeze!" he shouts, pulling the gun out and waving it around.

A tense silence falls over the room, but only for a moment. Then, to the man's surprise, laughter erupts from all of you.

"Wow, seriously?" Gojo says, rolling his eyes. "Compensating much?"

Toji smirks, not even pausing in his work. "Yeah, buddy, did you lose a bet or something? That thing's tiny."

"Is that a lighter in your pocket or are you happy to see us?" Sukuna taunts.

The man blinks, clearly not expecting this reaction. His face flushes with embarrassment and frustration, his grip on the gun tightening nervously.

Sukuna leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "I gotta say, if you're here to rob us, you could at least bring something more threatening. That little pea-shooter won't get you far."

Toji chuckles, glancing over at Geto who nods in agreement. "Seriously, man. Did you think we wouldn't notice you sneaking in here with that?"

You, still seated at the counter, can't help but join in. "And here I thought I'd seen everything in this shop. Turns out, we're now a comedy club."

Gojo, with his usual irreverence, adds fuel to the fire. "I mean, look at you. You look like a marshmallow"

"What does that even mean?" You ask with a giggle and Gojo shrugs.

The man’s face contorts with a mix of anger and humiliation. "Shut up!" he yells, waving the gun again. "I'm serious! I'll shoot!"

Toji raises an eyebrow, his tone still teasing. "Oh, are we doing threats now? How about this: put that thing away before someone gets hurt. Namely, your ego."

The man looks flustered, his grip on the gun tightening as he points it at you. "Shut up! I'm serious! Give me all your money!"

You roll your eyes, unable to contain your sarcasm. "Sweetheart, I have epilepsy. My brain doesn't work right on the best of days. A gun doesn't scare me. Just don't mess with my face or my tits, alright? They're my best features."

Sukuna leans back, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Can confirm. I'm extremely fond of them"

Geto nods solemnly. "Seriously, those are top-tier assets. We should put them in a museum."

Gojo nods solemnly as you laugh. "We'd have to hold a memorial service for the girls. It'd be tragic."

Toji finally looks up, his expression one of mock seriousness. "The worst crime you'd commit today would be damaging that rack."

Gojo grins wider. "We'd put ourselves in the line of fire to protect those honkers."

Sukuna gestures lazily towards you. "Hey babe," he says with a grin, "don't worry, I'll protect those masterpieces," nodding towards your chest. "Can't have this guy ruining what I get to enjoy every day."

Gojo nods sagely. "He's right, those are national treasures."

Toji nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'd cry real tears if something happened to those."

The man's face turns bright red, his hand shaking as he tries to regain control of the situation. "Shut up! Just give me the money!"

"Is it an innie?" Toji asks, feigning genuine curiosity. "You know, your... equipment?"

The robber's frustration grows as the room continues to be filled with laughter and teasing. He finally lowers the gun, looking completely defeated. "You guys are crazy," he mutters before turning and bolting out the door.

As soon as he's gone, the room erupts into even louder laughter. Sukuna sets down his tattoo machine and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Glad our national treasures are safe," he murmurs, planting a kiss on your temple and you snort.

Gojo is still chuckling, shaking his head. "That was priceless. Best robbery attempt ever."

Geto nods in agreement. "Yeah, we really should thank the guy for the entertainment."

Toji stretches, leaning back in his chair. "Who knew our biggest concern today would be protecting Y/N's tits?"

You grin, feeling the warmth of Sukuna's embrace. "Well, they're glad to still be here."

"We're all glad they're still here," Sukuna says with a grin. 

The next day, you come into the parlour with a new sign you’ve created. It's bright and colourful, with bold letters that read, “No Guns Allowed. Seriously, We'll Laugh In Your Face.” Gojo takes a marker from you and neatly writes 'We will protect the honkers with our own bodies' making you laugh as you hand the sign to Sukuna who takes it from you, chuckling as he hangs it in the window for everyone to see.

Sukuna steps back to admire your work, a proud smile on his face. “Looks great, babe.”

Gojo, standing next to him, nods in approval. “Perfect. Now we just need someone dumb enough to test it.”

Toji and Geto walk in, glancing at the sign and chuckling. “I give it a week,” Toji says.

“Three days, tops,” Geto counters.

You all laugh, knowing that no matter what happens, you’ve got each other’s backs—and that’s more than enough to handle anything life throws at you.

The rest of the day goes by without a hitch. As you sketch, chat with Gojo, and watch Sukuna work, you feel a deep sense of contentment. Life may be unpredictable, but with this group of misfits, it’s never boring.

The bell above the door jingles, signalling a new customer. You glance up. “Welcome to the madhouse,” you say with a grin. “How can we help you today?”

[wonfilms]

 ✰⋆ - STRAY KIDS AS “ BOYFRIEND ” THINGS !!

pairings : bf! ot8 x gn reader

word count : 2.7k

warnings : n/a.

chan takes so much pride in giving you his jacket, even when it starts to become a little cold he'd be quick to drape it over your shoulders with a smile. you'd quickly realise that arguing with him to take back the jacket wouldn't work, plus how could you resist when he gets so flustered seeing you in his clothes.

hyunjin loves it when you draw on his arms , he will go out of his way to preserve them until he showers next, even then he looks at your little doodles fondly before letting the soap suds wash them away. it makes his day a little brighter when he sees the hearts and stars you drew littering his skin, it's almost comforting to him.

seungmin has a habit of kissing your forehead, oh so softly, every time you're close to him. he can't help but press his lips to your temple just to watch you smile unabashedly and hide your face in his hands. it's a moment of weakness for him, just watching you makes his stomach erupt in butterflies but he can't help himself when you smile so prettily like that.

lee know really likes the smell of your perfume, though he will never admit it when he's away on tour even just the smell of you will comfort him, even if it's just a little bit. whenever he hugs you close, he could almost get lost in how much he feels at home.

jeongin has a picture of the two of you in the back of his phone case, it was a polaroid his took of you last summer, and he every time he looks at the picture he almost relived how happy he felt at that moment. it was a guilty pleasure of his to reminisce about the past and he finds himself doing so when he misses you a bit too much.

felix always has fruit snacks in his bag, just for you. even though you never ask him outright he'd make sure to have something for you to eat when you're both out for long periods of time. if you start keeping snacks in your bag for him, he'd blush like crazy knowing that you're thinking about him.

han likes to intertwine pinkies with you when you're walking beside him, though he loves to hold your hand there's something so special and intimate about linking his little finger with yours because every time he does a smile erupts on your face.

changbin buys you flowers every friday, it’s something he started doing when you started dating and it’s grown into a habit for him. he’d buy a bouquet of flowers to cheer you up after a long week, he’d absolutely run a bath for you and make dinner with you, just to make life a little bit sweeter for his favourite person in the world. 

a/n : i really liked writing this! this was pretty short but i hope you enjoy it as much as i did! i’m so down bad for jeongin at the moment sniff

[hihhasotherfixations]

John Price headcanons sfw & nsfw P2

Part 1

Here’s some more of my headcanons for this man. They’re a but all over the place, apologies. But enjoy :3

Sfw:

While he himself is not religious, he was brought up in a Christian family.

Speaking of his family, he unfortunately doesn’t have a very big one. He has a father he barely talks to and older sister. His mother passed away from cancer when he was still a lieutenant and because of it, when he got promoted to captain there was no one around - his sister was caught up and stuck with work. It was not a good time for him. Instead of celebrating his accomplishment, he was alone and stricken with memories and grief.

His dad was incredibly strict growing up and Price’s relationship with him is still very strained to this day because of it.

His late mother was very adamant on not swearing and while he tries to uphold that, he’s also been in the military for 19 years. And sometimes (very often) the danger or his men become too much. This has caused him to adopt swearing even though he tries so hard not to. One of his most used swear words however is ‘jesus- fuck’ as it’s become almost a habit to swear with jesus christ, though he always catches himself last moment and tries to divert from swearing with the religious man’s name and says fuck instead.

Price can’t ride a bike. And I don’t mean a motorcycle, he’s fine with those - really good even. But an actual bike? Man can’t do it. Do I say this purely because I find the thought/image of Price on a bicycle cursed? Yes, yes I do.

Price finds it hard to say ‘no’ to the 141 when it comes to small and inconsequential things. Due to this, there was a time where for over a month, the 141 walked into his office, asked him to doodle a cat and then left without a word. And yet he did so every time, confused but content enough whenever they waddled off with their doodle. What he didn’t expect, was to show up on Christmas morning to find a blanket strewn over the couch in the rec room - it’s print being littered with every small cat he had doodled. It is now one of his favourite things.

Not a headcanon but I wanted to let the world know: Price has a tiny birthmark on his nose and it is the most adorable thing in the world. (Thankfully I’m seeing more people bringing attention to it >:3) Because of it, if you repeatedly kiss his nose for that reason? To kiss the birthmark? He’s gonna get really flustered really quickly. Not much will bring this man to a stop mid order-giving, but that would shut him up real quick ;3

He does not like singing but you can often catch him humming when doing something such as cooking or cleaning. He doesn’t really realise he’s doing it so don’t point it out! Otherwise he’s gonna be conscious of it and you won’t hear it for a month or two.

Terrible at golf. Gaz once took him golfing cause he thought that’s something Price enjoyed/was good at. It in fact turned into Price getting frustrated and nearly obliterating the golfbal with how hard he hit it. He gave up after that.

This is more logistics that I keep for myself but Price was in the British army for 4 years before he moved to enlist in the SAS.

Loves, loves, loves playing with your hair if you let him. Sitting/cuddling on the couch? His fingers are touching it in some way. Kissing? His hand is keeping your head near his via the back of your neck and his thumb will be rubbing back and forth over the hair there.

Pretty sure 90% of people share this headcanon but good LORD his sneezes. They are loud and you can hear him from across the field. He then proceeds to shrug it off like they’re nothing.

Man has the sharpest and loudest finger whistle and 100% uses it on his men to get their attention. Both the 141 and the soldiers he reigns over as captain. It’s a noise ingrained into every single person who has served with him and will get them to shoot straight and pay attention instantly.

This is a little more niche. But this man sucks at almost every game except for survival games. FPS? Absolute shit, will get maybe one bullet to hit before dying. Horror? While he doesn’t jump at the jump scares, if he is being chased by a monster or a killer, you can almost guarantee he will die. But survival games?? Give him the forest (kinda) or Subnautica to play and this man will absolutely tear it up. You can leave him for an hour or two and when you come back he’ll have crafted a base and be halfway through the game.

This includes Minecraft. Kinda. Man is an absolute god at building, but do not send him into the mines. You will see a message pop up of him falling into lava or dying by mobs every 5 minutes.

Basically any game where he’s not in constant danger, he’s fine.

Avid peanut butter enjoyer.

If Price were to ever have children, he would try very hard to give them the childhood he never had. He would not deny those kids of anything. They want to go outside in the rain to play in the mud? Alright, let him get the raincoats, he’ll wash the dirty, muddy clothes later (he is 100% out there with his kids, splashing them or letting them push him into puddles).

In the same vein, he would try very hard to separate work and life. Sure he might need to get stern sometimes and tell the rambunctious rascals off, but he tries very hard to do so in his dad voice, not in his captain voice. It would still happen sometimes though and he’d feel absolutely awful. Especially if he makes his kids cry because of it.

One of his favourite songs is Escape by Rupert Holmes (The piña colada song). You can oftentimes hear it and songs like that softly playing in his office while he’s doing paperwork.

Not really a headcanon and don’t ask me why, but this donkey is giving me Price vibes: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJV6o5cB/

While he smokes cigars, he’s not at all a chain smoker. Usually saves them for moments where he feels he earns them (after a mission, completing paperwork he really didn’t want to do etc), high stress, or when he’s really craving one.

In a similar topic, he hates cigarettes. Tried one when he was younger, hated it and instead unfortunately took over the cigar habit from his father (when said man was home). Because of this however, he can’t stand to smoke with Laswell. She tries sometimes - cause while she’s trying to quit, it’s hard - but Price only allows it if she’s upwind from him, blowing her smoke away from him.

He stubs his toe SO often. Don’t get me wrong, when out on the field, every step is calculated and precise and you will never in your life see him slip up. It’s a different matter entirely when he’s on leave or just around base though. His body doesn’t need to be on edge 24/7 anymore. Which means that if you’ve served under him, you’ve heard him curse out a door for daring to stand open in the way it did. When he’s at home with you? Double so. He tends to walk around without shoes at home - logically so. Which means his poor toes meet cupboards, table/chair legs and doors a bit too often. He’ll swear less when at home tho, more… take-a-deep-breath-to-control-the-rage kind of reaction.

For the love of god, call him pretty. It’s just- it does something with him. He’s heard handsome, rugged, manly, weathered, etc. And don’t get me wrong, if you call him any of those? Pride bursts through his chest and he’ll make sure to repay you in kind. But if it’s just you and him on the couch, leaned into each other, the tv softly playing? Just a quiet moment? And you call him pretty? It heals something in him.

Has once overheard soldiers insulting/mocking his facial hair and definitely made them shit themselves when he appeared behind them with his full 6”2 (188cm) buffed up captain stance - arms crossed with the most vicious glare you can even imagine. Also definitely made them run until they dropped and then do it again or gave them toilet duty for a month. It also definitely wasn’t only one time he overheard someone.

He’s an absolute history buff. At one point he seriously considered to become a history teacher but at that point he was too far into his military career. He didn’t feel like he could leave his men. It also felt like he’d have wasted years of his life and going back to school wasn’t really on his ‘want to do’ list at that age. So instead he opted he’d be of better use to the world right where he was.

If you allow him to infodump however? He will absolutely tell you the most random facts. Disturbing ones too. He just wants to tell you cool facts, its a way of showing love :)

Quality time often consists of him sitting beside you while you do whatever. He’s either reading a book or doing a puzzle, if he can he will have one hand on your thigh, absentmindedly rubbing it while his mind is elsewhere (its a bit hard when he does puzzles with one hand, but he makes it work)

In the vein of those puzzles, he absolutely LOVES them. If you come home with a newspaper saying “I got this for you!” and show him the not-yet-made puzzle, he will absolutely fall a little bit more in love with you every time. That’s his form of you coming home with roses for him.

Ridiculously good at crosswords. Very rarely has to look up an answer. He also tends to ask you out loud. Not per se to actually ask you though. It’s more of a way of thinking out loud. “What’s a six letter word for a cloud formation in space? …Nebula, thank you.” And then just moves on without you ever having said a word, not even realising he does it.

He always feels guilty when leaving you for long periods of time due to work. Tries very hard to make up for it, even if you assure him he doesn’t have to.

He does things while on missions that he is not proud of. He does not tell you any of the more inhumane things he’s done because he’s terrified it’ll change your perception of him.

These moments haunt his every moment however. Sleeping and awake. You are his only escape.

He is not proud of a lot of things. But the 141 is one of them.

Kyle is one of the most prominent ones. From when he found him in Piccadilly to the elite soldier he is today, Price is incredibly proud of who he’s become. Though he’s also very worried for the danger he’s put the younger man in by dragging him into this world.

Price also makes sure to look after Ghost. Strangely enough, he feels almost responsible for what happened to Ghost despite him having nothing to do with it. Because of it however, he feels very protective over the man and tries to treat him the best he can.

Soap is someone who he sees a lot of himself in. So he always tries to push the man to be better than he was. Price sees the potential Soap has in furthering his military career and if the moment came to it, he’d recommend the man for a promotion in a heartbeat. Soap is someone he always trusts in.

He has a lot of scars on his body from his years of service. If he feels you run your fingers over the scar and you ask him about them, he’s okay with telling you about how he got it. Even if he spares the details sometimes.

Lastly, if Laswell and her wife ever got a child, Price would 100% be the favourite uncle and regular babysitter whenever he’s off deployment.

That’s it for the regular headcanons again :3 Please respect the banner and onto depravity.

Nsfw:

Whenever he’s making out with you, he LOVES having a hand on your throat. Not to squeeze. Never to squeeze. He does not like the thought of choking you at all, brings bad memories. But he is addicted to the thrum of your heartbeat underneath his fingertips. The submission that comes with it as you let him hold a place so vulnerable while he attacks your lips.

Doesn’t have to be during sex either. You two can be cuddling on the couch and he’ll gently pull you in by your neck or throat and press his lips into yours. Or push you up against the wall by it when you greet him as he comes home. Just let him hold you and move you like that.

Fingerprint bruises. Oh my god he properly leaves them whenever you two are having an especially… passionate night.

Don’t get him wrong though! He’ll kiss the bruises and apologise after, even if seeing them sends a flutter down his spine. Loves walking up to you and slotting his fingers right over the marks, careful and appreciative as his hands fill up the spots.

Man loves biting and nipping any place of you he can reach. Have I mentioned how much he loves leaving his marks on you? Hickeys and imprints of his teeth e v e r y w h e r e. (Won’t go above the collar if you don’t want him to)

Depending on how okay you are with it, he’ll definitely bite hard. He’s holding you in a mating press, kissing you to hell and back and when his hips start to stutter, when that telltale spark begins to come up, he’ll divert to where your neck meets your shoulder and bite while fucking the last few strokes into you, muffling his groans and noises of pleasure into your skin.

He has once broken skin while doing it, he felt absolutely awful after it. Immediately after coming down from his high and realising what he did, he went to go get the med kit from the bathroom. Naked and sweaty, he waddled away and back, concern and guilt as he disinfected the wound and dressed it, pressing a million apologies to you.

While it is rare to get him to actually fully give the reins to you and be submissive, when he does, call him by his honorifics still. Praise him with them. “You’re doing so good for me, captain” , “Are you feeling good, sir?” Whisper things like that in his ear and he’ll be whining and desperate for you like never before.

Man has a raging breeding kink. Will absolutely fill you up as many times if he can. Just the sight of seeing his cum leaking out of you instantly gets him going for a second round. The possessive side of him comes out thanks to the thought of you walking around with a piece of him inside you.

I don’t know if I mentioned it in p1 of this but he’s an absolute aftercare KING. Literally won’t want you to do anything. He’s cleaning you up with a towel first and foremost, gentle and careful - especially if he was a little rougher that day. After that, if you’ll let him, he’ll run a bath or shower for you and gently wash you himself. Kisses, cuddles and clean sheets are all in his service.

[pinkbubbles06]

Rosekiller Headcannons:

Pt. 2

Pt. 1

Some of these are my own and others are ones I agree with so if some seem familiar that’s why lol. Enjoy!!!!!! Gosh I love them so much. I need like a semi canonical fic of them stat.

* I like to think that Barty was the sweetest of souls when he was younger, but the constant abuse from his father and the cold world damaged him a lot. He also is bipolar so ya know…. Uhhh… yeah…😅

* Barty has long and slender fingers and it would always drive Evan nuts when Barty would wear rings on his hands and nervously play with them

* Barty also developed a tick/constant habit of darting hit tongue out of his mouth to wet his lips. Evan never learned why he did it but found it oddly endearing.

* I feel like Barty couldn't fall asleep without like a million pillows. Unless he had Evan. He would have the best sleep of his life when he slept with Evan.

* Barty will Call Evan Dimples

* The Infamous Three™ know French so they talk in it when they want to say shit about other people.

Evan knows German but rarely uses it.

Barty knows Italian and oh boy, his Italian. Evan got so hard the first time Barty started talking in Italian that he thought he was going to cream his pants. Barty talks in Italian when he drinks which is Evan's worst nightmare since Barty becomes even more flirty when drunk. Every time Barty calls him "mio amato" (my beloved), Evan MELTS (he stills swears he is straight™ and not completely in love with Barty).

When Barty wants to talk about Evan without being pried on, he talks on Italian. Reg knows Spanish and they make it work.

* Barty is Scottish and Evan is French.

* Barty picked up a bunch of languages by the age of 15 because his father decided it was mandatory for his son. (Crouch Sr. canonically knows around 200 languages)

* barty loves the snow. he could spend hours out in the cold without a warming charm if it weren't for his friends getting onto him about him possibly getting sick. he loves sledding down the hills at hogwarts, racing his friends to see who wins. he always does. he also likes snowball fights, building a snowman, and making snow angels. it was something him and his mother cherished so he likes to bask in those precious memories when he can.

* conversely, evan hates snow. his faces crinkles up at the sight of it. he makes sure he bundles himself up and uses warming charms as much as he can. most of the time he sits watching his friends enjoy the snow, throwing snowballs at each other. then barty just shows up with that damned smile of his, his eyes full of wonder at the snow falling down. barty will shoot him a grin just before he throws a snowball. sure, evan hates the snow, but he does genuinely appreciate how happy it makes his boyfriend.

* it is a matter of fact that Barty and Evan spoiled each other constantly, with materialistic things or with kisses and hugs.

* Evan’s birthday is June 20th

* Barty loved to doodle. He would sometimes just grab a marker or something and gently and carefully draw on Evan’s hands or arms. Whichever was easiest to doodle on at the time.

* Barty is secretly a book worm and could talk for days on end to Evan about what he reads.

* Evan isn't much of a reader but he will read anything if Barty suggests it to him, because he absolutely loves seeing him ramble. Barty will also annotate books for him when he borrows them. Don’t get him started on the love poems.

* Barty is so smart. But like in the doesn't need to try smart - tests come easy to him sort of smart

* Evan is completely and totally scared of all bugs ever, and he has to get reg or barty to kill them when they get into the dorm. Barty will sometimes terrorize him by bring the bug really close to him in his hand. Evan screams bloody murder every time. Barty gets such a kick out of it lol.

* When someone asks Barty if he wasn’t something to eat, he’ll say ‘you’ in a deadpan tone (mainly to Evan)

* Evan is possessive as fuck, he will actually glare anyone down that even looks in Barty's direction and will proceed to plan a murder.

* Evan was just a little bit more unhinged than Barty was at Hogwarts. But after school, and after he was a legal adult, Barty let loose and they were both unhinged together!!😁

* Barty and Evan share beds a ton, and the first time it happened was because Barty was having a hard day and Evan snuck in and held him through the night,

* Barty also has nightmares and instinctively looks for evan when he wakes up; Evan is always there

* Barty secretly proposed to Evan when they were 16. No one knew about it. Ever. And no one could ever tell because they almost always both wore rings. So they were engaged until Evan died, because they never got to get married because of all the “no gay marriage!!” In the 70s/80s

* I like to think Barty fell first but when Evan fell for him too Barry’s love grew deeper once he had him. So basically he fell first and he also fell harder.

* Barty never holds people's hands, he just wraps his fingers around their wrist. Friends or Lovers.

Evan has no idea why, maybe it's a preference or something?

Barty actually does it to check if the person he's with has a pulse and is real, a small reassurance for his anxiety

* evan has brown eyes, and barty collects rocks when they match the color perfectly. He’s kinda like a crow that way. He will find things that remind him of Evan, or that make him think of him, and he will give them to Evan. He keeps every single one.

* Barty has deep emerald green eyes.

* Evan adores it when Barty runs his fingers through his hair. He gets shivers down his spine every time.

* They both actively tried to summon ghosts

* Evan has like really bad circulation so he's like ALWAYS cold. And Barty is always a furnace

* Barty would often just bite Evan’s shoulder. Evan eventually go a tattoo of Barry’s bite marks on his left shoulder.

* Harley Quinn and Barty Crouch Jr. are interchangeable and you cannot convince me otherwise.

* Like, “what’s that I should kill everyone in escape? oh sorry, it’s the voices… I’m kidding!!! that’s not what they actually said.”

* Evan would often put his hand on Barry’s throat and Barty lived for every second of it. The Horny Bastard.

* I just know that Barty and Evan had so many dramatic break ups over the pettiest things

* They did it so they could have hate sex🤣🤣

* Barty would always tell Evan that he hopes that he would die first. He always said he never wanted to live in a world where Evan wasn’t in it….

* The skittles(Barty, Evan, Reggie, Panda, and Dorcas) all made an unbreakable vow that only death would do them part… and it did…

* Everyone thinks that they can’t stand each other when in public, but alone, or just with their friends, they are literally unbearable

* Evan wears baggy clothes and Barty wears tight clothes. Fight me on this.

* Also Evan has the sluttiest waist known to mankind.

* The fist Slytherin party that Evan actually danced at, he was so insecure. So Barty convinced him that no one was looking at Evan and that they were just looking at Barty. And after a few drinks, Barty had convinced Evan of that and he just let lose. And holy shit were they hot together. Kinda like the song by Sabrina carpenter if u know what I mean….

* Like, Barty would say “They aren’t even looking at you Ev, they’re looking at me.” Then Evan would say, “But I don’t want them to look at you Barty.”

* Evan took his shirt off a few times at a couple of party’s and literally all eyes were on him but he didn’t care cus Barty was there, Hands tightly secured to his waist and glaring at anyone who even glanced at Evan.

* Barty is a pyromaniac, and when that happens only Dorcas and Pandora can settle it. Evan can too but he usually just enables him🤣

* When Evan goes missing it doesn’t take Barty long to figure out he is dead. It totally sent him off the deep end and caused him to put all of his devotion into the only thing he had left, Voldemort.

* Also, once he found out Evan was dead he went straight to Pandora. She was the only one of their friends would would even think about talking to him. He was miserable, he wouldnt leave his room at Pandoras house for days.

* I am also completely convinced that Bartemius Crouch Sr had Evan assassinated after he found out about him and Barty.

* Like you know how canonically moody was trying to take him prisoner, but Evan was fighting so damn hard that Moody had to kill him. I think that was his order along. You can’t convince me otherwise. that is what happened.

* When he is posing as Moody, Barty finds out about this and kills his dad because of it. And also because of the god awful abuse. Duh.🙄

* Also, a little before torturing Alice and Frank Longbottom, Barty tried to obliviate himself so he would just forget Evan and Regulus because the pain of losing them was too much. In his attempt, because his emotions were so high, he messed it up and he went insane. This also caused him to halusenate Evan and Regulus. The halusenations of them were the ones who convinced him that Alice and Frank killed Evan. (Barty already knew how Regulus died.)

* Regulus told Kreature to tell Evan and Barty how he died, knowing they would keep his secret. And they did until they died.

[radioisntdead]

Just thought about this, but could I request a platonic ask with the Hazbin Crew (or just Charlie and Vaggie) with a frankenstein-esque sinner reader? Stitches all over their limbs, mismatched and it’s a common sight to see their limbs falling off their body and they only sigh before picking it back up?

They’re very nice, just tired and getting fed up/disgruntled with their own body and how it’s scarred, mismatched and always falling apart.

Good evening my dear! I wasn't too sure how to make this into a full oneshot so I made it into headcanons hopefully that's alright!

I actually have a OC very similar to this however she's a ragdoll so taking inspo from that

Hazbin hotel x gn! reader [platonic]

Warnings:

Limbs falling off, Alastor stealing arms

The first time they witnessed you lose a limb it freaked the majority of them out [Alastor only widened his grin because he's creepy like that]

The lot of you were just hanging out and doing a trust fall exercise and poor Sir Pentious was the one to catch you, he was not expecting your limb to just come straight off, like he was holding you and your arm was beside you on the floor.

And you just causally sighed and wiggled out of a panicking Sir Pentious's arms and grabbed your arm grumbling about having to sew it back on.

I imagine you may have to sometimes reinforce certain parts because sometimes you just go running and SNAP the stitches on your leg becomes undone and your face meets the ground.

There's a sewing kit almost anywhere in the hotel for you to use in emergencies,

Niffty is skilled with sewing so I imagine if you let her and don't mind getting stabbed a couple times she'd sew you right up in mere seconds, I imagine if you don't mind melding fabric to your skin she'll sew on fabrics with pretty patterns on, maybe it'll make you feel better about your loose limbs.

Angel dust LOVES coming up with nicknames for you, Frankie, Patches, Frankenstein's long lost child, patchwork, ragdoll etc etc

I'm gonna be honest Alastor probably tries to munch on your fallen limbs, I can see him grabbing your fallen arm and booking it out of there while you chase after him yelling for Vaggie to do something.

Vaggie gets your limbs back

Going off the fabrics if your okay with that going on your skin Charlie definitely buys some for you as a surprise, she'll ask Vaggie on whether or not she thinks you'd like a certain fabric patch.

I think having a bunch of patches gifted to you by loved ones is a nice thought, we adapt habits, traits, mannerisms etc etc from people we love and the people that love us sometimes adapt our habits, traits, mannerisms etc etc from us, we're a lovely mashup of ourselves and the people we love.

I imagine Sir Pentious would build something to help keep your limbs together, like a brace or a prosthetic covering of sorts?

Alastor gives you a patch and it's just arm themed, he probably steals your limbs like five times in a week,

"DAMN IT AL, THAT'S THE FIFTH TIME THIS WEEK STOP."

"no"

You have to get Vaggie to help you retrieve your limbs before Alastor makes your arm into an arm pot pie or something.

Husk would help you with carrying anything super heavy, particularly if it's alcohol because he is NOT risking your arms ripping off and no more drunky tipsy times [I can't legally drink I don't know how it works and I don't wanna know.]

Whenever Charlie asks for a hand and your arm has been detached you hand her your arm, freaks her out for a second before she's just like "Haha very funny please don't do that again"

Charlie definitely works on making sure your comfortable in the hotel, if you're ever insecure about your scars she'll take a pen or something and doodle around them.

Honestly Charlie probably thinks your mismatched patches look cool and you remind her of a plushie she had as a child,

If your filled with cotton like a plushie do expect hugs.

Good evening folks! I am making my way through requests! Plus the part two to Too sweet and Eldritch horror reader's backstory [EVIL LAUGHING] will be out soon!

[crazyunsexycool]

Val! Heya love.

So, for your birthday ask game. I was gonna choose a trope from the office relationship, but it got out of hand when I liked more than 5🥹.

Can we please have something for Steve and Reader, where at SHIELD they’re incredibly close and have feelings for each other?

Lots of sticky notes on laptops, doodles on briefs, texts to one another under the table about coworkers, fixing ties and hair, and maybe sporadic texts about something to do with“work/meetings” when they really just want an excuse to talk to the other?

Sab, darling!!!

A/N: I loved this request so I hope you like what I wrote for it. Also send in all the other request I promise I don’t mind!!

Between sticky notes, meeting rooms and elevators.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warning: pining and fluff, some America puns (I’m so sorry they’re only like two but I couldn’t help myself)

You were late and your boss hated when you were late. It didn’t help that when you finally got to the briefing all eyes were on you when you got to the only available seat.

“Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Ms. Y/L/N. Now we can finally get started.” Your boss announces.

You take a deep breath as you look up to find Steve sitting right across from you. He raised an eyebrow at you and shook his head in mock disappointment. You rolled your eyes and smiled before your eyes landed on the disposable coffee cup in front of you. There was a little smiley face with your name on it in Steve’s handwriting. You mouth a thank you and he winks at you before turning his attention to the front of the room. Those pesky little butterflies that made your stomach their home since the day you met Steve took flight again.

~~~~~~~

“Hey Y/N,” Steve calls out to you as soon as the meeting is over. The sea of people in the hallway parts for him. “So how was your morning?” He smiles, the mischief behind his eyes lets you know he’s just joking.

“It was wonderful. My alarm didn’t go off, traffic was horrible and I had this meeting right at the beginning of the day with the most annoying of my boss.”

You hear someone clear their throat behind you. Steve is already holding his laughter as you turn around with a horrified look on your face. Your boss glares at you for a moment.

“Don’t let your tardiness become a habit Ms. Y/L/N.” he states before walking away.

Steve just gives a long whew as he watches your boss walk away. You cover your face behind the files you’re holding before Steve pulls them away in order to hold them for you.

“Did you know he was standing behind me?” You look up at him with a pout.

“Absolutely not. I would never let you embarrass yourself like that even though it was entertaining.”

You just glare up at him, mostly playfully. He laughs as you both get on the elevator. As others get on you’re pushed back more until you end up back to chest with Steve. His free arm comes up and around your waist to keep you up right. You hope he can’t hear your heart beating faster the longer you stand that close to him.

Once you are on your floor you get out while Steve stays on the elevator. Neither of you would really look at each other so you couldn’t see the pink tint on his cheeks and the sheepish smile that played on his lips.

“I’ll-uh I’ll send those reports to you as soon as I can.” You say.

“I’ll be waiting for them.”

“I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later.” He says and then the doors close.

*****

Just as you said the reports were ready for Steve. With a pep in your step you go up to his office to drop them off even though there is someone that can do that for you. You frown when you get to your destination as you see that the lights are off. Grabbing a post-it you always carry with you and a pen you write a quick note and leave the file in his drop box.

A few minutes later you get a text.

Steve: Thanks for the vote of confidence.

Attached to his text was a picture of the sticky note. It was a drawing of a stick figure saluting and it says. ‘I know you ameriCAN do it.’

Y/N: You’re welcome. ☺️☺️

Y/N: let me know you make it back safe!

Steve: Always do. 😉

You smile at your phone before putting it away and working on the next set of reports.

~~~~~~

Steve: This guy’s voice is so monotonous that he's making himself fall asleep.

You try to hide your laugh behind a cough while Steve has the nerve to send you a message shushing you.

Y/N: not fair! Don’t make me laugh like that.

Steve: 🤷🏼 it’s true though… don’t look now but I think Linda from accounting is asleep with her eyes open.

You slowly look over and you watch as one of her coworkers nudges her. She starts slightly and then sinks into her chair further.

Y/N: 💀💀 oh maybe you should recruit him for the avengers. He could just give this speech to any bad guy and they’ll turn themselves in just to avoid hearing him anymore.

It was Steve’s turn to huff a laugh and try to cover it by clearing his throat. You were seated in different sections because of your jobs but still managed to be in each other's line of sight. Every time you looked over he would pretend to be nodding off, you shook your head every time before looking away.

****

“I thought that guy would never stop talking.” You say as you meet Steve in the hallway.

“Yeah, that was painful.”

“Oh, here are those analyses you requested.” You hand him a few folders. “Everything is arranged from what I thought would need priority down to low grade issues.”

“Thanks. Here are my completed reports.” He hands you a folder. “Everything is signed, all it needs is your review and it can be filed.”

“Thanks. I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later.” He smiles at you. That boyish grin that makes your knees weak.

When you get to your desk and open the first folder you laugh. Paperclipped to the first report was a doodle of the speaker from earlier except Steve has made him look like a sloth. You take the doodle out of the folder and place it in the small box you keep all of the doodles Steve gives you.

~~~~~~~~

“Hello?”

“Hey Steve,” you say as you look over some information that he needed. “I have that report you requested but you aren’t in your office.”

“Oh yeah, I was called back to New York for a mission with the avengers.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No,” he shakes his head even though you can’t see him. “You’re never an interruption. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah I just wanted to know what you wanted me to do with the report , you know, since you’re not here.”

There was a protocol in place for this occasion. You knew that and so did Steve. Still neither of you could wipe those dopey grins on your faces as you spoke to each other.

“Why don’t you hold on to them and I’ll get them once I get back?”

“That works.” There’s a small silence before you break it. “Well I’ll leave you to it. Please-“

“I don’t have to hang up yet. I mean if you have time, we can talk.”

“I’d like that.”

“Have I missed anything in the office since I left?” He asks as he sits back in his bed at the tower.

“You mean in the three hours since you left?”

“Yup.”

“Of course you did. Now you didn’t hear it from me, but rumor is that Linda from accounting is having an affair.”

“No!”

“Yes. And you’ll never guess with who?”

“Who?” Steve asks excitedly.

“Sloth man.”

“There’s no way.”

“It’s only what I’ve heard, it hasn’t been confirmed.”

“I wonder what she sees in him.”

“A good night's sleep.” You murmur.

Steve throws his head back and laughs. Once he calms down he starts giving you theories about the supposed rumor. Then the conversation turns into other topics. Before you know it you’ve been on the phone for at least two hours when he needs to leave.

“Please be safe.”

“I will. See you in a day or so.” Steve says before hanging up.

~~~~~~~~~

The day had dragged on. Maybe it was because you didn’t have much work for the day. But you had a sneaking suspicion that it had to do with a certain blond haired, blue-eyed super soldier not being around.

It wasn’t until late in the evening and you were working extra hours that you received a very long overdue break. There’s a little knock at the end of your desk. You push yourself a little bit to turn your chair around. Words die on your tongue when you see a bruised up Steve standing there.

“Oh my god what happened?” You raise your hand to lightly touch a bruise on his cheek.

He wraps his fingers around your wrist and you immediately realize how inappropriate it is. When you go to pull your hand away he doesn’t let you. His thumb is drawing a lazy circle on your wrist as he brings both your hands down.

“Just some bad guys. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Why are you still here?”

“I think my boss is still mad that I called him annoying and I’m stuck doing more paperwork.” You shrug your shoulders.

“Well I hope you haven’t had dinner yet.”

“Nope.”

“Good.” He smiles at you and then pulls a bag from behind his back. “Because I brought your favorite.”

“My hero.” You beam before turning and clearing a spot on your desk. Steve places the bag down and pulls a chair from an empty desk and sits down with a bit of a grunt. “So spill it.” You motion to him.

“Just a mission.”

“I need a play by play. Come on please. I read all of your reports, they’re basically a book at this point and I need the next chapter.”

He huffed a laugh. “Fine. But it’s rather boring.”

“You could never bore me.”

“Could I get that in writing? I’d like to have proof for Tony.”

“Sure, I’ll even have it notarized.”

He laughs again and shakes his head. Then he starts talking about the mission. You could sit there listening to Steve talk about anything. After he finished that story you moved on to other topics, work now long forgotten.

~~~~~~~

As much as you hated it, Shield was requiring a certain number of their employees from each department to attend a gala. Because your boss still had it out for you, you were selected to attend.

You were fiddling with the necklace you’d paired with your dress as you walked through the already crowded venue. Someone grabs you by your forearm and pulls you into an empty hallway while you try to throw a punch.

“Woah calm down, it’s just me.” Steve said as he let go of you.

“Why would you grab me like that?”

“I’m sorry I just didn’t want anyone to realize I was here. Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad, it’s just I thought I was being kidnapped.” You frown a bit.

“I’d never let that happen.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, you knew he meant it as a friend but sometimes you wish it was more than that.

“Is everything ok?”

“Honestly, I’m kind of nervous.”

“You are nervous? Why?” You ask incredulously.

“This function is for World War Two vets. I don’t know it’s not the same as if I was dealing with someone that didn’t fight in it. They ask questions and I can play it down a bit but with the vets… It makes me feel exposed.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I have to give a speech. If I find you a seat closer to the stage would you take it?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you .”

“Don’t mention it.”

His large hand takes yours and he pulls you down the hall with the intention of leading you to the seat he mentioned. You tug on his hand so that he stops and turns to you. Pulling him a bit closer you reach up and fix the bow tie. Then your hands instinctively run across his shoulders and down his chest in order to smooth out his tux. He smiles at you then. His eyes light up when he sees you return it. The moment is far too intimate for two friends to be sharing but it feels right nonetheless.

Steve graciously walks you to an open seat and heads to the stage. Just like you knew it would, the speech was a success. Still every once in a while he’d look down at you and you’d return an encouraging smile.

****

“May I have this dance?” Steve had his hand stretched out in front of you.

“Why yes you may.”

You place your smaller hand in his and he leads you to the dance floor. Steve places one hand on your waist and the other takes your hand. As a slow song starts playing he begins to lead, the scent of his cologne is intoxicating in the best ways.

“I thought you didn’t dance.”

“Only with the right partner. Besides, Sam bet that I wouldn’t dance with the most beautiful woman here. I had to prove him wrong.” He says just as he turns both of you and Sam comes into your line of sight, raising a glass of champagne and smiling.

“Steve…”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought it was time I told you how I really felt. It’s ok if you don’t feel the same but I learned my lesson the hard way.” He spins you around and pulls you back in. “I like you as more than just friends. Seeing you makes my day, I can literally be having the worst day and you make it better. If it weren’t for you working at Shield would have been a nightmare. You saw me for more than just Captain America and I don’t think you realize what that means to me. It’s never bothered you to have to do things differently or having to spend time teaching me something because I just don’t know about all of the new technology. Most importantly you don’t mock me for it, you accept me as I am. And I’m so grateful you’re in my life.”

Steve dips you and as he pulls you back up all you can do is stare up at him with wide eyes. He smiles fondly at you as he takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“I have to go on a mission. But would you be willing to talk about this some more when I get back?”

You just nod, all words had escaped you at the moment. How were you supposed to respond? You adored Steve but never in a million years did you think it was reciprocated. Steve leans down and kisses your cheek before walking towards Sam. Then you watch as they both walk out. By the time you leave the gala you’re still reeling and trying to figure out how to respond.

~~~~~~~~~

Steve didn’t get back until Tuesday. It had been four days since the gala and since he told you how he felt. He was supposed to be back today. You knew for a fact he was because some of the people on your team had mentioned seeing him. Without being able to take much more you rush to the elevator and press the button for his floor.

Everyone around you rushes out but you are glued to your spot. Standing at the doors is Steve, looking as handsome as ever. His eyes light up when he sees you even though there’s a really bad bruise on his cheek and it’s obvious the mission was worse than expected. Still he steps into the elevator and no one dares walk in, leaving the two of you alone. The elevator starts to ascend but Steve pushes the stop button.

“Hi.” You manage to squeak out.

“Hi, I am free tonight by the way.”

“Oh, good.” You say as you try to hide your smile.

“But another America joke really?” He holds up the post-it note you had placed inside a folder for him to find.

It simply reads: on a scale of one to America, how free are you tonight? With a few stars drawn around it.

“You are Captain America, I have to use that to my advantage.” You giggle at his fake huff of annoyance. “Since you’re a superhero does that mean you’re super free tonight?”

Steve genuinely laughs this time before he turns to you. He finds that you’re already looking up at him with a soft smile.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

“Oh so you think I’m cute.”

“Yup.” He takes a step towards you, forcing you against the wall. His hands rest on the small handrail, effectively caging you in.

“How cute would I have to be to get you to kiss me?”

“I think you’re there already.” Steve says before his lips are on yours.

It was better than what you had imagined. His lips were soft, the kiss was sweet. Unfortunately it was short lived.

“If you two are done holding up the elevator, I’d really appreciate seeing Captain Rogers in my office. Now.” Director Fury’s voice came through the speaker and you pulled away quickly.

You giggled at the fact that you had been caught. The butterflies in your belly were in full flight as Steve smiled at you. When the elevator came to a stop he pressed a kiss to your cheek and stepped out.

“I’ll see you tonight.” You smile at him as the doors close. A few seconds later you get a text.

Steve: It's a date. 😉

[hausofanya]

000. personal facts & trivia.

⭑ mbti. intj

⭑ positive traits. observant, slow to genuine anger, fiercely loyal, creative, hard - working, diligent, honest, has a comforting presence, trustworthy, adaptable

⭑ negative traits. a bit judgmental, easily irritated, blunt, incredibly particular about certain things, often fails to hide her expressions, stubborn, a bit of a perfectionist

⭑ hobbies. songwriting, dance, crocheting, knitting, reading, music production, fashion, collecting plushies, decor, comics, reviewing films, art, anime & manga

⭑ habits. staring ( depending on the situation, mostly in disbelief ), furrowing her brows, tapping her finger against any surface, looking at cameras like she’s on a sitcom, humming, leaving small braids in her hair and forgetting about them

⭑ phobias. atelophobia ( fear of imperfection, thus setting unrealistic goals for oneself )

⭑ known for. viral vocal runs, being compared to a cat, funny interactions with other idols, her expressions turned into reactions, blunt responses, wholesome lives, being averse to pda unless initiated

⭑ her twin brother alexei is a member of txt.

⭑ she has two pets — a black cat named oreo and a golden doodle named princess.

⭑ she’s been voted most responsible yet most likely to stay up late in the group.

⭑ she’s had her own room since debut. currently she lives in an apartment with moniqa and xavier.

⭑ she’s known for having a massive sweet tooth. the one time she was put on a sweets ban, she was keyed up for around 28 hours before she crashed.

⭑ she’s been crocheting and knitting since middle school, even when she gets teased about it being an ‘old lady hobby’. she really enjoys the mindless repetition and the end result is something you can wear. she loves gifting her crafts to friends and family.

⭑ she’s a fan of nct, ateez, the boyz, aespa, and girls’ generation. she displays her gifted and bought albums in her room very proudly.

⭑ she has a lot of idol friends, most notably wooyoung and yunho from ateez, kisung from txt, kevin from the boyz, malani from honi, and venus’ baebi.

⭑ she has a somewhat childish fear of bugs and cannot stand needles. she’s admitted to still crying during flu shots.

⭑ she plays multiple instruments but her favorite is the piano because her grandmother taught her how to play her very first song.

⭑ she considers stray kids as a very tight knit group, but the members she’s the closest to are chan and hyunjin.

⭑ her comfort movie is peter pan (2003).

⭑ she’s incredibly flexible due to doing ballet since she was five.

⭑ she was captain of her debate team in middle school.

⭑ she has a self described ‘strange’ habit of hoarding unfinished songs.

⭑ if she hadn’t pursued music, she probably would have become a lawyer.

⭑ she doesn’t have an ideal type, but she does warn against dreadheads for reasons she has yet to tell. she does find having an avid interest and being knowledgeable in one particular thing ( i.e., computers ) incredibly attractive.

mentioned ! @wondrelove & @venusvity 🤍

[sighs-deeply-and-dreadfully]

Lol, I can’t help but imagine how Wally would react to a gothic, kind of grungy, reader. Just someone who wears black and white all the time, maybe with hits of darker blues or reds. I just find the idea amusing since the neighborhood and characters are all bright, fun colors while there’s just this one gothic person wearing spikes or something.

 

Also, something I can picture is Wally painting them because they’re so different from everything else and the uniqueness of their style and makeup is so fun to draw and paint, and the reader feels the same way. I can just picture the two of them drawing each other or something.

(romantic or mutual crushes, please ^^ I've always been a sucker for opposite aesthetic couples)

HAHA!!! I’m also a sucker for opposite aesthetic couples HEHEHE… I’ll strike you a deal; I’ll write both (mutual crushes and romantic)! HAHA

The Raven and The Kingfisher

Wally Darling x GN!Goth/Grunge!Reader

Headcanons Format, Mutual Crushes -> Romantic Relationship

When you first moved in, to say Wally was interested would be an understatement.

He adored your style, he found it very!! Refreshing? He loves all his neighbours and he loves their town, but sometimes something new can be appreciated!! And you were something new, alright!! /pos

After just a few days of talking, he ended up asking if he could paint you— and he loves to paint all his neighbours! But he certainly wanted to give a shot at conveying your style.

All those darker coloured paints (ones that maybe only been slightly used to create new tones) could finally be used >:]

If you were to say no, he’d accept ! That’s alright ! But he’d probably still likely doodle something of your style in private— although not necessarily of you.

If you say yes? He’s over the moon.

He takes great care to make his paintings as accurate as he can!! He’d likely be on yours for a while, just because you introduce a lot of new colours he hasn’t worked with before— the closest reference he has had is Frank and the other things he’s doodled— so it might take a while longer than usual!! But it’s so delightfully fun to experiment and learn.

But the outcome is lovely, and he proudly hands the painting off to you.

He doesn’t make that the last time he’s drawn you, though, goodness no. It almost becomes a habit, to doodle you.

Which his friends begin to notice, when the litte sketchbook he drags around is practically filled with scribbles of you.

At some point, he is with Julie! She ends up glancing over, and giggles at seeing him doodle you yet again, with a soft “Oh, Wally..”

The two had just been sitting around lightly chatting and doing their own things— and Wally was drawing.

Confusedly, Wally would lift his head— what was funny? Had he done something funny with meaning to—?

“You’re drawing the new neighbour!”

He tilts his head. Why yes, he was? How is that funny—? Julie picks up and continues, though.

“You’ve been drawing them sooo mucchhh.. Do you like them, or something? I think you might like them— we all kinda do!“

He tilts his head again. “Of course.. I like them, they’re my friend..?”

But that interaction gets his brain spinning, and eventually— during a hangout with Frank— he just kind of. Pauses.

He mutters under his breathe, and soon whisks himself away with a rushed farewell to Frank— who is just left staring in confusion.

Ah, so maybe like is a loose term. Haha ooooops..

When he steps into Home, who creaks him a hello, the amount he’s been doodling you somewhat- hits him like a truck?

You’re in his sketchbooks, mainly, which— all of his friends were! But his sketchbooks were almost like a direct thread to his “subconscious”. He just doodles whatever comes to mind, or whatever he feels (and his true feelings have a tendency to alter how it presents itself— though really only in ways he can understand). He uses it very much as an outlet.

And you were, basically, on every single damn page of the thing.

.. whoopsie.

With the newfound knowledge that he, haha, maybe has developed a “teensy weensy itsy bitsy” crush—

Heee is now terrified to be around you.

If it was so obvious to everyone else, was it obvious to you?

Wuh-oh.

He doesn’t let this anxiety stop him from talking to you, though. The thoughts of it made him sad— and the thought of him withdrawing making you sad made him ever sadder.

But from beyond this point, he’s a lot.. less collected.

When you two hang out, there’s a small shift in the air— that he is hyper-aware of, and you might be, too.

Wally always did stare— he liked eye contact, and he didn’t really care to learn where else he should be looking during conversations—

So him avoiding your gaze was almost off-putting due to how foreign it was.

He’d glance to his hands, or to his supplies, or To the sky.

Anywhere but you when you looked at him— he couldn’t!! Really bare your reaction!!

He knew it’d be the same way you look at him all of the time, but the thought it might be negative made him.. antsy.

Because, again, if his little crush was obvious to everyone else before it was even obvious to him— was it obvious to you, too?

This keeps up for a few days, and eventually— you just.. ask him what’s been up. You note his change in behaviour, and you express you’re confused— maybe even a bit concerned.

And the dam just comes flooding.

He gives some garbled twist of a confession, nervously wringing his fingers the entire time (something he almost never did).

He expresses it’s okay if it isn’t mutual, and that he just had to get it off his chest before he “exploded” (Barnaby used that word a lot in his jokes— so maybe it’d be funny if he used it, too?)

He’s overjoyed to hear you return the affections though, and immediately just sort of de-tenses and instead starts.. kicking his legs. Very quickly. Stimming. Hehe.

From there, you two fall into a relationship. You had already sort of been recognized as a “thing” by everyone else in the neighbourhood— as you were often seen together.

Now, you were practically always seen together— making the opposites in your aesthetic very noticeable. Two halves of a pair!

When you aren’t together, Wally has a tendency to.. maaaybe.. gush about you, a lil..

Specifically to Barnaby! He knows Barnaby doesn’t mind to listen (especially while consuming his.. “lovely” hot dogs (/sar)).

While the two stand around, Wally cupping his normal hotdog in two hands and Barnaby chewing on his abomination lovely creation, he’ll just go onnn and ooonn about you, or what the two of you have been up to, or what you plan to do later. His words are kinda hummed as he does, and he seems to idly be wiggling his head side to side.

Barnaby is happy to lend an ear! He’s got two very big ones, after all.

.. plus, it’s easier to lull Wally into kind of just.. handing his hotdog to him.. hehe..

Not that he wasn’t going to already give it! He just gets to receive it faster, and Wally pays no mind.

Overall, that little man is head over heels for you— absolutely smitten. He finds your aesthetic very, very pretty— and you in turn just as much.

Expect sappy love letters and even more paintings of you, dear. :]

I FORGOT TO DO AN AUTHOR’S NOTE AT THE END IM SORROY I GOT DISTRACTED HWAHWA

THis was super cute to write and I hope it was satisfactory!!! :D

Have a lovely day!!!!!

[rozeliyawashereyall]

Part 2 of Korey because why not :3 + some doodles at the end of the rant!

Bisexual? Bisexual.

In the first post about Korey, I said she became a hunter because of a deal she made.. and that deal was originally a bet she made with one of the more experienced hunters under Circe. Korey ended up losing, and as punishment, she became a hunter. She was maybe 16 or 17 at the time

Pretty good at fighting! Very fast reflexes. Her attacks start out slow to give the one she's attacking a false sense of security before speeding up without warning if that makes any sense

Play fights with Raine and Amber :3 they're supposed to be training, but shh (@willowve01 and @astralbulldragon13 )

While very much reckless and careless of her self-preservation. She always makes sure the others are taking care of themselves. She knows not everyone can keep up with her energy.

Has accidentally killed 2 people before, in her defense, they started the fight.

Really wanted to learn magic as a kid, kinda grew out of it, though she does think about learning it every once in a while. Esther taught her a few simple spells :D (@asmrbrainrot)

One of the reasons she wanted to learn magic is because her older brother Esra learned it, his affinities are crystal and light, often showing off his magic for his little sister

While yes, most of her scars are because of her thril seeking behavior, a few of them are from her hunts.

Doesn't really agree with the whole enslaving half bloods thing..though she does agree that some do need to be on some kind of watch by the hunters from how violent they can be, but never hurt let alone drugged.

Had no idea what melacide (idk how to spell it T_T) even was until she got to the arena with Bodie

She tries to help her younger brother, Noah, to go down the right path and not end up a complete mess like her but end up like their older brother Esra

Barely ever at her house, she actually spends most of her time at her friends' homes

Does sometimes accidentally refer to themselves as a boy out of habit, does not like it one bit.

Terrible sense of direction, like Jesus christ, please get this girl a map. They could be going to the store that's only a few steps far, and she'd somehow STILL get lost

Please, PLEASE give this girl validation. She may act like it doesn't affect her but deep inside she's overthinking and freaking out she did something wrong, neglect will do that to ya :(

Her scrapbook was a gift from her grandparents for her 14th birthday!

Actually had a little crush on sparky when she first became a hunter, she's over it now tho (or is she? Jk jk...unless?)

Before becoming a hunter, she worked at a bar with her childhood friend, Jay :D!

Always wear gloves because her dumbass put a boiling pot of oil under water and burned her hand.

If you think her sense of direction is bad, just you want till you see her cooking skills, the number of times she's burned water is concerning.

Has occasional dance classes with Reya and Melody :D! (@iistxrmyskyii and @kaiamtt)

The bugs use her as a fireplace when it's too cold from how warm she is /hj

Felix is the only guy lol (@insignificant-anarchy) (only for now dw)

[ququb444hm]

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭, 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝

profiles 01 / malnourished art students + supportive parentals ☆

masterlist

warning(s): possible typos, slight swearing

🕯️— y/n kuroo. junior year art student specializing in the fine arts at yūgen university. works a part-time job at a nearby flower shop, shinrinyoku flower shop, which is also the building of her shared apartment with cecily moore aka her older brother’s girlfriend. has a little white mouse with black spots named cheese. lives off energy drinks because “they help my uh…brain work”. known to be very somnolent almost all the time but a bright ball of energy when she does get enough sleep. currently fawning over kozume kenma.

🍓 — morisuke yaku. has been yn’s best friend since middle school, and is also a junior year art student specializing in the fine arts at yūgen university, only difference is he is a sculptor rather than a painter. on the volleyball team; libero. has a handful of admirers due to his charming personality, which he gets from his upperclassmen friends, tooru and koushi, yet seems to be oblivious— which we all know is not true. has a golden retriever named milo. secretly in love with one of his best friends (hint: his name is rintarou suna)

🎧 — rintarou suna. met yn in their freshmen year of college. former theater kid, current junior year art student specializing in cinematography and film/video production. a drummer in a band with kozume. cliche bad boy, but his friends know he’s a real sweetheart deep down. secretly loves when people doodle on his converse. coffee fanatic. similar to yn with energy drinks except its large cups of coffee 24/7. not into relationships at the moment.

🫧 — koushi sugawara. loves kids! works as a part-time teacher’s assistant at a nearby elementary school. senior student studying to become a future teacher. tutors his friends on the side. acts like he’s tired of tooru but loves him so very much. can cook/bake and makes sure to prepare something for yn when crashing her apartment. basically the mom of the group.

🎐— tooru oikawa. senior college student studying fashion modeling. models part-time. one of the greatest lovesick fools ever for his boyfriend of 3 years, absolutely loves to show him off. cannot cook/bake for shit. has a surprisingly attentive personality when it comes to other people’s love lives, which is ironic because it took him months of denial and constant oblivion before realizing his true feelings for koushi. designated driver.

🌱 — cecily moore. has been dating tetsurou for almost a year. college dropout, yet that didn’t stop her from becoming a successful business owner aka the owner of shinrinyoku flower shop. loves what she does, loves her friends! has known yn ever since middle school (she’s only two years older than her) and was the one to offer yn a room at the apartment above the flower shop. has a fish named marigold. thinks kozume is the only right person for yn and subtly encourages him to buy flowers for the pretty girl. an older sister to yn!

☆ | masterlist | -> profiles 02

note(s): sorry for the long descriptions! have a bad habit of rambling, hope u all enjoy (*^ーﾟ)b as always, none of the pictures used are mine!!

[cupidarrow10]

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ study like cher₊˚⊹♡

step one: confidence

♥︎ believe in your own intelligence and have faith in yourself

♥︎ don't allow your setbacks to stop you, nothing can get in your way

♥︎ don't be afraid to ask questions and speak your mind(respectfully) if something seems off

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

step two: prioritize

♥︎ acknowledge which subjects you currently have the most work for

♥︎ created a checklist so you can ensure that you are completing every assignment/task (you can make the list cute with highlighters, doodles, etc!!)

♥︎ understand which subjects' assignments are more important to get done first

---example: you should probably get your core classes' work done before any elective work

---make sure to prioritize work in classes that you may be doing poorly in so you can get your grade up

♥︎ understand which subjects may be difficult for you, and set aside time to focus on improving in those areas---you don't have to be perfect, but you should still apply yourself

♥︎ use any in-school time to get your work done so you can have more free time at home

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

step three: communication

♥︎ don't be afraid to advocate for yourself

♥︎ reach out to your teachers via email, or speak to them when appropriate during class if something is confusing you, or if they entered a grade incorrectly

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

step four: wellness

♥︎ cher doesn't only take care of her academic mind, she takes care of her emotional headspace as well

♥︎ always drink water while studying to ensure your mind is awake and active

♥︎ take breaks!! everyone is different, but a 10-15 minute break for every hour of work will prevent you from becoming overwhelmed

♥︎ make time for yourself outside of your studies

---example: spend time with your family/friends, read books that you find interesting, move your body/workout, watch a movie, partake in some retail therapy, etc!!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

mindsets and habits can take on average sixty-six days to develop, so be patient with yourself and trust that you will become exactly the type of student that you dream of being<333

xoxo,

𝓬𝓾𝓹𝓲𝓭

[russeliarat]

The Magnus Archives oc #2!

| Vivienne's post |

Her name is Marlene, full name Marlene Alotte, who works in The Magnus Institute as a IT guy for the archival department. Basically she helps Jon digitise statements into an online database, built into a computer Marlene personally protected. Doesn't really do much with her Computer Science and Cybersecurity degree. People do also think of her as a personality hire in a way, both her and her baby. Working in opera theatre prior and the classical music/dance scene sees she's a bit dramatic and extroverted.

Marlene is aligned with The Slaughter, though doesn't become an avatar of it or is even really scared by it. In times of need, she can very quickly indulge in acts of senseless violence out of what she views as protection, and after having her baby, she begins to work out again to come back to her muscular build post-partum.

Backstory stuff (and artwork) below the cut

Marlene as a child took a lot of interest in classical music and dance, and her very strong singing voice made it so her parents, living very much through her, precociously place her in the career of opera, ballroom, and classical musician. Marlene never really felt like she had much in life else to do and that she was meant for the path whether she liked it or not, so even though she began to detest her parents for their horrifically stressful lifestyle placed on her, she couldn't quite escape it all.

As soon as she turned 18, she left home and went to work in the computer science industry, something her parents would be starkly against her doing. It went against everything Marlene's parents would want her to do. So she loved it. She did still continue with her singing as she thought it was one of the few things she could do and often fell into the habit of it anyway.

At about 28 or so, Marlene began to work in the archives to bring in money for herself and her unborn child, so her and her child becomes a beloved feature in the archives. Why is the baby there and not at home? Because she needs to work for money and her partner broke up with her very quickly after getting her pregnant after isolating her from her friends, so Marlene can't afford to send her little girl to a nursery. She also feels very isolated and finds her family in the archives staff... well, before everything went to shit.

Really that's where the story begins. She would join in about early to middle of season 1, and eventually have her baby in mid to late season 2.

Here's the separated version of each version of Marlene. In red is how she presents in season 2. In blue is her as a teen/adult in one of her more iconic performance outfits.

Below are more fashion sketches and doodles for both Marlene and Vivienne. I was starting to explore the fashions they would wear both in personal time and work, and how they act personality-wise.