#or known as: the best fashion accessory you could think of!

[pralinesims]

The saga of a guy and his photogenic cat 🐾

[kaiserthread]

shopping spree pt.2

clothes/accessories the bllk boys buy you! characters: nagi, oliver, rin content: pro players, established relationship, f!reader, slight implied nsfw in olivers part (nothing graphic but just in case) part 1 here! tysmmmmmm for the love on part 1!!!!! this one was so much fun to write

NAGI SEISHIRO - couples pajama sets 

loves sitting around the house with you on his off days

values every minute he can get with you 

buys it with the express purpose of seeing you wearing one of his shirts

gives you the shirt from his set and lazes around shirtless

seishiro’s free time has always been very precious to him, even more so now that his schedule is jam-packed with matches, press appearances, traveling, so much practice, and most importantly, you. he’s perfectly content with spending all his off days with his lover. which is exactly why he couldn’t resist buying the cute couple pajamas when he was supposed to be buying groceries. you can’t even find it in yourself to scold him for forgetting the frozen blueberries when he pulls the pajamas out of their bag and presents them to you with a small smile on his face. “i’m letting you off easy this time, sei. only because you’ve been gone for a while.” you say, reaching up to pinch his cheek. “mkay, i’ll remember next time, promise. but only if you match with me tonight.” he says as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “alright fine, since you asked so nicely.” you huff, grabbing the pajamas and making your way towards your bathroom to shower. seishiro is lounging around in his new pajama pants when you step out of the bathroom. “sei, what happened to matching?” he turns his attention away from his phone, passes you his pajama shirt and says, “you always look better in mine, sweetheart.”

OLIVER AIKU - bikini

he likes looking at women in swimsuits, trust he’s gonna know the latest and most flattering styles

he just wants you to look your best when y’all go on vacay together!

reminds him of how you two met

“oliver! come tie the strings on this for me.” your voice rings out and oliver comes running to help. he takes the strings and gently ties them into a neat knot. “you look so pretty, baby.” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck before wrapping his arms around your waist and admiring you in the mirror in front of him. “doesn’t this remind you of how we met?” you giggle, turning in his arms to rest your forehead against his. “how could i ever forget?” he questions, thinking back to that incredible summer several years ago. high off his first big win in the pro leagues he’d found himself on vacation at the beach. you were there for a friend's wedding, fresh off a disastrous breakup with your ex. he’d charmed you with compliments and the two of you stumbled into bed together on several occasions before parting ways, but not before swapping numbers and promises to keep in touch. the two of you made things official the following summer and ever since then going to the beach every summer has become a tradition. “meeting my summer fairy was the best thing to ever happen to me.” he says before pressing a searing kiss to your lips.

ITOSHI RIN - evening gown

you're his princess ofc he's gonna buy you a dress to fit that title

studies your wardrobe for a while to make sure he’s getting one with a good color and a fabric that doesn’t bother you 

he browses for so long that he just says fuck it and goes to a designer to have one custom made

rin honestly can’t believe this, isn’t paris supposed to be known as a fashion powerhouse? the fact that he can’t find something perfect for his princess is beyond ridiculous. he gives up after weeks of browsing and calls in a favor from a manager at the club who has connections to a renowned designer who’s willing to make him exactly what he’s looking for. a few weeks later he’s handing you an extravagantly wrapped box, “an early christmas present.” he explains. you open it and pull out a beautiful floor length gown. “rin it’s stunning!” you throw your arms around his neck before rushing away to try it on. “come zip me up?” you ask, and rin complies, walking over to you and zipping the dress up. “it fits perfect rin, did you get this tailored?” you question. “i had it made just for you, the stores didn’t have anything nice.” rin responds, sweeping you off your feet. “only the best for my princess.”

[pearlessance]

Fishnets & Old Fashioned's

Summary - Tommy Miller wants a big titty goth gf and isn't above begging on his knees to get one.

Pairing - Tommy Miller/goth!bartender!Reader

Warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, begging, dom/sub undertones, switch!Tommy and switch!Reader, tongue piercings, nipple play, dirty talk, semi-public, hair pulling, vaginal fingering, kneeling, body worship

[crossposted on AO3]

There are very few things in the world better than a nice, strong drink after a long day at work. In fact, it tended to be Tommy Miller’s favorite part of the night. That—and chatting up the prettiest girls in his favorite bar.

Tommy and Joel would often go together after a particularly rough day in the unforgiving Texas heat, and the best bar in town was the best for no reason other than the bartender. Frank was a mean, old bastard—but Christ could he mix a perfect Old Fashioned. It was exactly what Tommy craved after a day like today, where everything went wrong and nothing went right and his calloused hands were marked up with cuts and splinters.

Except Frank, apparently, wasn’t working today. And you stand in his place behind the rickety mahogany bar. A small slip of a girl, nearly half Frank’s size but somehow no less intimidating. In fact, Tommy finds himself even more intimidated by you, with your dyed hair and ripped fishnets beneath a tight, black tank top that sports the white skull of the Misfits logo.

He sits at the bar beside Joel, but his eyes never leave you. Your fingernails are painted black, thumbs sticking through the netting over your hands, and Tommy thinks you look terrifying and captivating and lethal and beautiful all at once. It’s rare to see girls like this in the deep south—girls who embody the shadows as a fashion accessory, girls who look like they may sprout horns or claws at any given moment, girls with siren eyes and fatal lips and switchblade curves.

Tommy Miller will be the first to admit that you scare him. Tommy Miller will also be the first to admit that yeah—he’d definitely let you eat his soul.

You’re mixing a cosmopolitan for some uppity lady at the other end of the bar, and he watches your nimble fingers as you place the lime garnish and slide the glass to the customer. You give her a pretty smile, and Tommy admires the crimson stain on your lips and wonders if it’s possible to seduce a succubus.

When you walk over to them, he can’t help but attempt to immediately create rapport. He doesn’t know the Misfits well but has heard their new song on the radio once. He leans in and asks, “You gotta name, vampire girl?”

You don’t laugh, but it doesn’t deter Tommy in the slightest. You brace your hands against the bar and say, “Depends on who’s askin.’”

“No one special,” he says with a casual shrug. “Just the man of your dreams.”

The cutest snort leaves your nose, and it feels like a win. “Let me guess,” you say, pointing a finger at Tommy. “Old Fashioned. And for you…” For a moment, you narrow your eyes at Joel. “Either Jack and Coke or Johnny Walker on the rocks.”

It’s like witchcraft, he thinks. Because you’re completely right and Tommy’s only ever known Joel to order a Jack and Coke—and suddenly he’s fumbling, trying desperately to turn your attention away from his brother. “How did you do that?”

“Experience,” you say. “You need a double? You look like you need a double.”

He does—but Tommy isn’t sure whether to take your words as an insult or not. He finds that he doesn’t really care either way, because you're looking at him now and he’s grinning like a madman and desire creeps up his spine as you lean over and fill a glass with ice. Tommy’s always been an ass man, swore up and down once he always would be—but holy fuck, he feels himself changing. “A double would be great, darlin’. Maybe I can get a little something on the side, too,” he says with a playful wink.

“Jesus,” Joel huffs.

You set to work on mixing their drinks—Joel’s first, and then Tommy’s. When you set his on the bar, there are two glasses—one that looks like his normal Old Fashioned, and a shot glass filled with a clear liquid. “A little something on the side,” you tell him. “You guess what it is and I won’t charge you for it. Guess wrong and it goes on your tab.”

His first instinct is to say it’s vodka—it’s still like water, completely crystalline. But when he tries to pick it up to smell it, you put a black-painted finger up.

“Nope. That’s cheating.”

“It could be anything,” he argues. “What if it’s gin and I guess vodka?”

The corners of your pretty mouth turn up into a smirk. “Is that your guess? Vodka?”

“No,” he says quickly. “No, no—uhm…,” he stutters. Tommy has no goddamn idea and knows he’ll never be able to guess correctly, but you seem to be enjoying his struggle, so he flounders a bit longer than necessary.

But then you raise the stakes.

You lean forward, layered silver necklaces glittering in front of your god-blessed cleavage, and he has to try not to stare too long. He definitely stares—but not enough to be weird about it. “Guess correctly and I’ll give you my number, casanova.”

It feels a little like gambling. Tommy knows he has a way with women, knows a flash of his dimples and a little southern charm goes a long way around here. But something tells him it’s just not gonna work with you, and he wants you so badly that he’s willing to make himself look like a fool if that’s what it takes. “How long ‘til the offer expires?”

With a glance at an imaginary watch, you say, “I’m here until two. After that…who’s to say?”

Tommy sits there and watches you walk away, watches you give that pretty smile to another man who orders a shot of tequila.

When he takes a sip of his Old Fashioned, he wonders what the fuck is in it because it’s the best goddamn drink he’s ever had. Better than anything Frank has ever made him, better than any he’s gotten at that fancy bar in Houston he went to a year ago—smokey and bitter and strong and delicious.

Joel calls him stupid, says he’s insane for even looking at a girl like you, mentions how much younger you are and how you’re likely just entertaining him for tips. Tommy orders another drink anyway and promises to get a cab home when Joel insists he’s ready to leave.

The crowd dies down the longer the night stretches on, and you keep placing drinks in front of him moments after he finishes the one in his hands. Once, when you have your back turned, Tommy dips the tip of his index finger into the shot glass.

But before he can bring it to his lips, you’re suddenly standing right in front of him. Your hand flits across the bar and encloses around his wrist. You click your tongue and his gaze is transfixed on the flash of metal in your mouth. “Cheaters don’t get prizes,” you tell him.

Tommy watches dazedly as you bring his finger to your lips. “Cheating? I would never do something…” he loses his train of thought, because you suck the tip of his finger into your mouth, cleaning up the clear liquid, and he can feel the metal barbell pierced through your tongue. It sends a jolt of electricity dancing along his spine and he wonders how it would feel against other parts of him. When you pull away slowly, Tommy clears his throat and blinks a few times before he can resume his sentence. “…I’d never do something like that,” he finishes.

Two in the morning approaches way too fast, and while it may seem a little strange that he’s sitting here all alone for so long, pondering over this clear liquid, he finds that he loves watching you move. You’ve got some kind of dark magic about you, he thinks. Men throw themselves at you, some even more so than Tommy, but you never give them half a chance. He watches as you turn those siren eyes on them and take the words right out of their mouths, watches as you state clearly and silently that while their attempts interest you, none of them ever hold you.

He thinks about the phrase god is a woman, but wonders if the devil is, too.

After the last call, Tommy remains the last person in the bar. You graciously allow him to keep seated even as you clean the sticky bar top and turn the chairs upside down and lay them on the tables. You emerge from the back room a little after two-thirty with a black backpack shaped like a bat and a ruby leather jacket. “Last chance, casanova,” you say. “Got a guess yet?”

Tommy licks his lips. “I need a hint.”

“No hints. Time’s up. Guess.”

There’s the faintest smile on your face, and Tommy hopes that even if he guesses wrong you’ll take pity on him and give him something. He gives it his best shot; “Tequila?”

You don’t answer. Instead, you lift the shot glass to your mouth and swallow half of it. You slide it to him, and even though Tommy is more of a dark liquor person, he drinks the remaining liquid and cringes at the taste. “Should’ve followed your gut instinct,” you say.

Tommy hates vodka. Even more so now than he did the morning after prom. Still, he can’t help but laugh. “Oh, come on, darlin’,” he says. “I guessed it once. That’s gotta count for something.”

Through a soft laugh, you ask, “Why are you so determined? It’s just a game.”

Because he’s spent the last three and a half hours fantasizing about what a great lay you would be. Because he knows deep in his bones that you’d do some shit that’d make a man fall in love. Because he wants to unravel your pretty mystery and drink in that hypnotic poison. Because yes—it’s just a game, but Tommy Miller is no fucking loser. “I like to win.”

You let him walk you out, even let him walk you to your car at the back of the dark lot. Don’t you know how dangerous a situation this could be? All alone with him, beneath the cover of night…he isn’t a bad man, but something tells him you wouldn’t mind it even if he was. You say goodnight, and Tommy calls a cab and fights the urge to return to the bar the following night.

He waits until the weekend, like a normal person, despite the fact that he thinks of nothing but dyed hair and silver necklaces and fishnets and tongue piercings until then. He doesn’t carpool with Joel to work Friday morning, because he has every intention of staying at the bar and playing his hand until the early morning hours again.

But before he arrives, Tommy decides to turn his charm up a little. He stops at a local florist on the way and spends probably too much time deciding on which ones you’d like best. He settles on a half dozen roses whose color reminds him of that crimson stain on your lips but stops short at the checkout. Behind the counter, a bouquet of the very same roses is set in a half-empty vase—except the petals are dark and wilted. Tommy knows immediately that those are the ones he needs.

The florist raises her eyebrows in concern when he asks specifically for the dead ones, and Tommy promises he’ll pay full price for them if that’s what it takes.

He walks out of there with a bouquet of dead roses and sits on the same stool at the bar as last week. You’re serving someone across the room, a tray of margaritas in your hand. Tommy admires your long legs, thinks fishnets look even better on your thick thighs than beneath that one Misfits top. Your leather boots shine beneath the low lighting, and he has the sick desire to be crushed beneath them. When you finish serving the group of girls in the booth and turn back to the bar, his heart races in his chest.

You make him nervous, Tommy realizes. He wants to please you, wants you to like his gift, wants you to give him that pretty smile you always give everyone else. But when you set the tray behind the counter you don’t even look up at him before you start mixing another drink. Tommy thinks about how that makes him feel, how dissatisfied he is without your attention. But then you slide an Old Fashioned over the bar and give him something even better. “You miss me or something, casanova?”

Tommy hands you the dead roses and nods. “Like hell, vampire girl. You gonna let me take you out or what?”

You inhale the sickly sweet scent of the flowers, and when you look up at him through those dark lashes all the blood in Tommy’s head rushes straight to his dick. “You don’t wanna go out with a girl like me,” you say.

He folds his arms over one another and leans across the bar. “And why’s that?”

You laugh like God, Tommy thinks. And for a second he’s lost in the sound, the cluster of clinking glass and murmured voices fading into the background of his mind. But then you give him the sweetest, most innocent smile and say, “Because I’ll break your heart.”

“So?” The question is paired with a shrug, and it comes out of his mouth before he can stop it. But Tommy, once again, is more than willing to look like a fool to have you if only for a night. “C’mon, sweetheart. Give an old man a chance. I swear I’ll make it good for you.”

“Would you now?”

He nods once. “The best date you’ll ever have.”

“You don’t even know what I like to do outside of here,” you say. It’s a reasonable concern, and a true one. But he wants to know.

You snort and shake your head when he suggests playfully, “Picnic in the cemetery?”

“Right next to dear old grandma?”

“Be the first woman I ever bring home to meet the family, baby.”

Another man at the end of the bar snaps his fingers in the air to get your attention and Tommy suddenly feels like fighting. He doesn’t, though—and reminds himself when you giggle at someone else’s joke that you’re just working, just doing your job.

Friday’s are slower than Saturdays, it seems, and by midnight the only people left in the bar are you, Tommy, and a guy in a booth half passed out. You emerge from behind the bar with your backpack slung over your shoulder.

“I’m gonna step outside for a minute. Keep me company?”

It’s the most exciting thing he’s heard all night. Tommy jumps to his feet, the bar stool scraping noisily against the sticky floor. He lifts the partition up for you to walk through. “Ladies first.”

The midnight air is cool against his skin, and he notices as he leans against the siding of the bar that you smell like cherries. Cherries with poisoned pits. You pull a little metal box from your backpack, and Tommy watches you pull out a joint, place it between your lips, and light it. He watches you inhale deeply, watches you lick your lips, watches that metal barbell in your mouth like it’ll grant him his salvation.

Tommy can’t help himself. His words spill out of his mouth. “You are so pretty,” he says.

You laugh lightheartedly and turn those siren eyes on him again and he’s weak in the knees. He takes the joint when you offer it. Tommy hasn’t smoked weed since he was twenty-one, but the taste is nice, somehow earthy and fruity at the same time, and your eyes are searing him to the bone. “Thanks,” you say softly. “You’re pretty too.”

He chuckles and passes it back to you. “Well ain't you a peach,” he says. “If I’m so pretty why don’t you let me take you out?”

There’s a moment of hesitation before you answer. And for a split second, Tommy thinks you might actually give in to him. But then you ask, “Have you ever been with a girl like me, casanova?”

No, he hasn’t, and maybe that’s a part of the appeal. All he knows is that he wants to slip his fingers underneath your black tank top and fill up his hands with your softness. He flashes you an award-winning smile and answers, “First time for everything.”

A soft snort leaves your nose. “So, no, then,” you say, the smallest bit of disappointment laced through your tone. You take another long drag from the joint and smoke swirls around your pretty hair. “Probably couldn’t even handle it.”

His mouth falls open in mock astonishment. “And how do you figure that?”

“Call it intuition,” you say. “Or experience.” Tommy takes the joint from between your fingers and his lungs ache as he inhales. Your eyes stay there, right on his mouth, even as he slowly exhales and licks his lips.

It’s right then, as he watches your siren eyes darken, that he knows he’s made a dent in that black heart of yours. Or at the very least, he knows he’s making progress. The thought excites him so much he can’t hold back his smile. “You ain’t ever experienced me though, darlin',” he says.

“You’re persistent,” you say. “I’ll give you that.”

The weed is going straight to his head, creating an airiness in his limbs. Tommy asks playfully, “What’s it gonna take to convince you? A fancy date? Maybe dinner and a movie? Maybe we’ll take a day trip to San Antonio and visit that old school gothic cathedral they have down there. You ever seen it?”

“No,” you say with a shake of your head. “It sounds cool though. I’d probably like it.”

Tommy nudges you with his elbow. “Name the time and place and I’ll take you, vampire girl.”

“That wasn’t a yes,” you tease.

He hangs his head between his shoulders and quickly decides he’s not above a little groveling. “Come on,” he says. “Just one chance. What’s it gonna take? Name your price, baby. Want me to pick up some roadkill and set up a taxidermy date?” You let out a pretty laugh, and it feels like such a victory that he keeps going. “How about I build you a haunted house? A personal one all for you—I work in construction, you know. I could make it real nice. Ghost hunting? There’s an abandoned building just up the road, looks creepy as shit.”

You’re smiling so hard the apples of your cheeks are flushed the sweetest shade of pink. “That old apartment building? You wanna find the ghost of the maintenance man?”

Tommy shrugs. “Hey, if that’s what you wanna do, I’ll grab my wrenches for a summoning circle. Go all out for you,” he says. You shake your head, and he continues. “I mean, anything you want, I’ll do it. Sell my soul? Tell me where to sign. I gotta pen in my back pocket. You wanna drink my blood?” He pats the side of his neck, right above his jugular vein. You let out another laugh, and it brings so much joy to him that Tommy can’t help but laugh with you. “I’m all yours. Swear it. You want me to beg on my knees?”

“Now there’s an idea,” you say through your giggles.

And he knows it’s a joke, knows you’re not serious, and maybe it’s the weed making him feel so carefree and blithe but he fucking does it. In the front of the bar, where anyone could pull in and see him, Tommy Miller drops to his knees in front of you and places his warm, calloused hands on the back of your fishnet covered thighs. Your skin is so soft, he thinks, and he has to fight against the urge to lean forward and bite the supple flesh. Instead, he looks up at you through his lashes, noting the way your laughter stops and your breath stutters. And because his inhibition has been shattered by his need for you, he says lowly, “Is this what you want, sweetheart? You want me to beg for it?”

He watches your tongue dart out to wet your lips and swallows the low groan at the back of his throat. “Maybe,” you say, breathless.

Tommy leans forward, eyes never leaving yours, and presses a wet kiss to the soft flesh of your thigh. He can’t resist his smile when he feels goosebumps break out across your skin, and so he does it again. This time his lips are much greedier, much closer to the inside of your thighs, and he daringly decides to taste you. He can feel the rough edges of your fishnets across the flat of his tongue and wonders how he’s gone thirty years of his life without ever dating a goth girl, wonders how he’ll ever go back. He wonders how the fuck you’re so magnetic, how just existing this close to you makes his cock throb in his jeans.

His mouth nears the edge of your black denim shorts. Tommy expects you to stop him, expects you to laugh or shove him away. But you don’t. You instead slide pointy, black painted fingernails through the thick curls of his hair. Your touch is gentle, and lazy — such a contradiction to his desperate movements.

“Let me take you out,” he says. “I can make you feel so good, sweetheart.” And to prove his point, he does the one thing he’s wanted to this whole time; Tommy Miller softly bites the inside of your thigh, delighting in your sharp inhale. He kisses the sting away, tasting you again, taking your scent deep into his lungs. He wants to devour you, he thinks. He wants you to devour him. “Please,” he pleads, sliding his hands upwards to rest on the decadent curve of your ass.

Your hand in his hair tightens, pulling at the dark curls lightly. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” you say. There’s a too-long pause, and Tommy’s grinning like a hopeful idiot, and then you tilt your head and whisper, “No.”

He lets out an exasperated breath and presses his forehead against your abdomen. He can feel his cheeks warm from embarrassment, but then he looks up at you again and the mischievous glint in your pretty eyes makes the chagrin worth it. “Goddamn, girl,” he says. “You are mean.”

There’s no argument to be had from you, but your siren eyes stay fixed on him even as he stands from his knees and Tommy swears that dark desire still lingers in them. Especially when he straightens to his full height, towering over you, and places both palms against the brick wall of the bar. He cages you in, and you’re trapped, and more than ever before Tommy thinks he sees that demeanor falter. “Just a little bit,” you reply.

“Wanna know somethin’?” He leans his head down, presses a kiss into your hair, and says, “I can take it.”

You take your crimson stained lip between your teeth, biting so hard the matte color smudges the smallest bit. Tommy knows he’s getting to you, he can see it. But you still resist him and say with a shake of your head, “Break’s over.”

He lingers at the bar until close and asks one more time as he walks you to your car if you’ll go out with him. Still, you say no again and as he’s laying in bed that night, Tommy Miller decides to cut his losses. He still wants you — Christ he wants you, but he’s not willing to beg anymore. He’d done all he could do, and he doesn’t want to make your workday miserable. He doesn’t want to be one of those guys.

Still, when he comes back for a drink with Joel after work on Tuesday, he can’t hide his disappointment when he sees Frank standing behind the counter. They talk about you, though, when Joel tells Frank that Tommy ‘has it real bad for that scary chick.’

They go to a different bar that weekend instead of their usual. Tommy still has fun though, and chats up a pretty blonde girl who’s real nice to him. He doesn’t have to beg her on her knees, and it’s a nice change of pace. She even kisses him and moans into his mouth when he grabs a handful of her ass.

Except she’s got glossy pink lips, and her legs are bare beneath her white, pleated skirt, and Tommy wants the feel of fishnets in his hands. He wants the softness of your body, wants the warmth and the curves and the fucking chase. He wants to work for it.

She offers, but Tommy doesn’t go home with her. Instead, he sleeps alone in his bed. And the next night after work, he goes to see his very favorite bartender.

He walks in alone—Joel’s at home, helping Sarah with some art project—and it’s still early in the evening, but the bar is packed full of people. Tommy catches a glimpse of those fishnets that haunt his every thought, and watches you bend over to pick up straw wrappers from one of the booths. His usual seat at the bar is taken by some college kid, so Tommy sits at the very end.

Immediately, he can tell your nerves are shot. It must be overwhelming, he thinks, to be the only person working on a night like tonight. So when you walk past him, smelling of poisoned cherries, he snakes a hand out and wraps his fingers delicately around your wrist. You startle at first, but your whole body deflates when you see him. “Oh, thank God,” you say. “Come help me.”

Tommy doesn’t hesitate. He stands to his feet and lets you tug him back to a room with a padlock on it. While your fidgety fingers work in the code, he asks, “What’s the occasion?”

“Beginning of summer break,” you answer with a sigh. “And word got out about our new buy one get one deal on specialty drinks. It’s been busy all day.” The lock clicks and the door swings open. You flip the light switch and point to one of the three kegs beneath the shelves of sealed liquor bottles. “I can’t lift it,” you say. “And the one out there is empty.”

With a curt nod, he lifts the keg easily — it’s not any heavier than the steel beams he’s been carrying around at work. But he still sees the way your shoulders sag in relief, and tries his damndest to keep his eyes away from your low cut top. It’s a failed attempt, but Tommy thinks it’s gotta count for something. “Where d’you want it?”

The corners of your mouth turn up just slightly, and he can hear the innuendo on the tip of your tongue, but you never say it out loud. You just tilt your head, and Tommy follows you behind the bar to help you replace the empty keg. When he lifts up the partition to let himself through, you stop him with a hand around his bicep. “You’re staying a while, aren’t you?”

It hadn’t been the plan, truthfully. Tommy had just wanted one of those perfect Old Fashioned’s and to resign himself for the night. But your eyes are wide, and your dyed hair is pulled into a disheveled pointy tail, and the fishnets underneath your shorts have sequins on them, and you’re just too goddamn pretty. So he touches the tip of your nose and says, “Anything for you, vampire girl.”

Your answering smile is worth sitting in all this chaotic energy, Tommy thinks. It reaches those bright eyes made up with all that black and silver eyeshadow. “I’ll buy your drinks,” you say. “As payment.”

He nods, even though he pulls up the calculator on his phone to keep track of his drinks tonight and decides to put the cash into the tip jar the moment you’re not looking. Tommy settles into his stool and watches you flit around the room, watches you take orders and make fancy drinks and uncap beers. It’s so busy, but you’re juggling it all impeccably and he finds it admirable.

Somehow, even with the mass of people, you never fail to place another drink in front of him the moment he finishes one. You thank him way too many times, explain that having him here just in case is comforting, and Tommy’s glad to hear it. He keeps his comments and those dirty thoughts to himself, even though they push behind his teeth, sitting on the tip of his tongue. He and his whiskey and orange peel are perfectly content to sit in the corner and eye fuck the bartender, thank you very much.

He has to replace the keg one more time, it’s that busy, but he doesn’t mind it at all. Especially when you bend over to pick up a case of some hoppy IPA before he can grab the keg. There’s next to no room in the closet, and your ass is less than a hand’s width away from his jeans, and he has to close his fucking eyes. He wants to ogle you, goddamn does he want to—but Tommy Miller knows himself. Knows that if he starts looking, he’ll want to touch, and if he starts touching, he’ll want to fuck.

So he clenches his eyes shut tight and follows your orders. The night dies down slowly, and when you make the last call and start taking dishes to the back room, Tommy wipes the peanut shell dust from his fingers and holds his hand out to you.

At first, you stare at it, confused. And then when he points to the white rag in your hands you shake your head and say, “No. That’s like, illegal, isn’t it? Working for free?”

“It’s hardly free, darlin’. Give it here.” He reaches for it again and nearly loses his train of thought when you bite your bottom lip in contemplation.

But then you nod, and hand him the cotton towel, and watch him for just a moment as he turns and starts wiping down the empty tables. He creates a pile of watered down, half empty glasses on the bar, saving you an extra trip, and turns the chairs upside down when he’s finished. Everyone slowly filters out, and when you emerge from the back again the bar is empty save for Tommy and all your tables are bussed and clean.

He’s sitting at the bar, finishing his last drink, and your shoulders sag in relief that the night has finally, finally come to a close. He sits in silence as you count out the register and take the extra cash to the back room. When you start counting out your tips, you split it and push half to Tommy. “Here,” you say. “For all your help. I made more than I planned for, anyway.”

“I didn’t earn those,” he says, pushing it back toward you. “Keep it.” And he means it—he truly, truly does. Tommy would like to think he’d do it for just anyone, which is partially true. That southern charm is deeply rooted in him. But you’re…you, and apart from the fact that he wants to fuck your brains out, Tommy Miller also just straight up likes you. You’re funny, and kind hearted when you’re not putting on that mean-girl front. He can tell you’re good. And it makes him feel good, helping when he can.

But despite all that, he’s still Tommy fucking Miller. And he does, very much, want to fuck you. So he crosses his arms across the bar, leans in close and whispers, “You can repay me another way.”

A cute little snort leaves your nose, and you laugh and shake your head, but you don’t reject him. “Oh, yeah? And how’s that?”

“Guess,” he prods.

You narrow your eyes slightly, and Tommy can see the outline of that silver barbell pushing against the inside of your cheek. “A date?”

His mouth pops open in mock astonishment. “Oh, my my! I thought you’d never ask, sweetheart.” You’re laughing, and Tommy’s cheeks hurt from smiling so hard, and he wonders when the last time was when he felt excited about a date. A date with no promise of sex, just a simple, clean date. He takes your hands in his and presses a kiss to each of your knuckles. “Yes, of course I’ll go on a date with you, vampire girl.”

Your giggles die down, and the silence is comfortable but..heavy. He can tell something’s weighing on you, and he wants nothing more than to grant you ease.

“What is it, baby?”

Those pretty eyes of yours flicker down to his hands, calloused and rough and huge around yours. “Seriously,” you finally say. “Thank you for all your help. I don’t know what I would’ve done without it.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “No big deal,” he says. “Really. Should be a crime to not help a pretty girl in need.”

The corners of your lips turn up into a smirk, and he can see that you’re fighting it, but the joy is so plain on your face. You pull your hands from his and say, “Let me grab my bag. You can walk me to my car.”

Tommy nods once. “Yes ma’am.” He waits patiently for you to grab your things, and after you guys leave and you lock the door he tosses his arm around your shoulders. “You don’t work on Tuesday’s or somethin’?”

You stop in front of your car—black, and shiny, and he can see through the windshield that you have a glittering bat-shaped air freshener hung around the mirror. “You stalking me now, casanova?”

He shakes his head. “No. Just missed you is all,” he confesses. And it’s the truth, the god damn truth, and it’s so fucking weird for him to miss a girl he barely knows but here he is doing it anyway. It makes no sense that he’s had more fun watching you work than he did kissing that blonde girl last weekend. Tommy takes his arm from around your shoulder and gently takes your chin between his fingers instead, forcing you to look up at him. He notices the way your breath hitches, the way your pretty eyes are swallowed up by something dark. “That a crime?”

It’s a stark contrast, how different you look right now. All innocent and starry eyed and not at all mean. You look sweet, Tommy thinks. And he wonders if you taste that way, too. His mouth waters at the thought, and he runs his tongue along his teeth. “No,” you breathe, gaze following the movement. “N-no, just…”

“Just what? Hm?”

Your cheeks burn, and Tommy loves the pinkness against your skin, and he knows you have nothing to say. He knows you’re getting nervous. Eventually you exhale and say, “I don’t…know.”

Tommy likes that he makes you nervous. He likes you like this, all trembling fingers and honeyed eyes and sugary lips. But even more than that, he likes it when you look up at him through your lashes and softly, so fucking softly it’s barely audible, say, “You can kiss me if you want.”

He doesn’t waste a fucking second. He goes easy, at first. He presses his lips to yours firmly and discovers he’s right in his assumption of your saccharine. You taste a little like cherries and a little like moonlight and a little more like home. It reminds him of hot Texas nights under the stars, and being a little too drunk, and he kisses you deeper. Allows his tongue to swipe over your bottom lip, and you reward him with the sexiest little sound.

Your lips part for him, and Tommy is nothing if not a man starved for you, and so he drinks you in. That metal in your mouth feels even better against his tongue than he’d ever imagined. You’re so soft and his hands are on your hips and he can’t stop himself from squeezing the supple flesh, from pulling you closer, from pulling back for a wretched breath of air. “Goddamn, baby,” he grumbles, grinning from ear to ear, and then your mouth is on his neck, and his morals are somewhere on the floor.

Because he wants to do this right. For once in his life, Tommy Miller wants to take a girl out. He wants to do it real classy, too—wants to get to know you, wants to take you out to a nice dinner and tell you how beautiful you look in your fishnets, wants to take you to some uppity museum in San Antonio and show you fancy paintings and that gothic cathedral that made your eyes glitter when he mentioned it.

But your mouth is so hot, and your hands are tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck, clawing at him for reprieve. His heart is beating so fast. He swears it almost stops when the words tumble out of his mouth because he really, really does not want to ruin this. He sounds desperate because he is. “Can I touch you?”

“You are touching me,” you quip. He can feel you smile against his neck, and Tommy’s head falls back in frustration. You know that’s not what he means, but you don’t say no, and so he decides to show you.

Tommy hooks his arms around your thighs, grinning at the little gasp you make, the way you cling to him with all your might. He lays you back against the hood of your car and wraps his hand around your neck, and kisses you like he’ll never get another chance to.

And this time, you let out more than a whine. You’re moaning into his mouth, breathing fast, wrapping your legs around his waist, and pulling him in. It takes him by surprise, and Tommy laughs softly.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you?”

“No,” you immediately say, defiant. “I just know what I want.”

His heart hammers behind his ribcage. He wants to keep hearing your voice, wants to ingrain the sound of it into his skin like a tattoo. “Tell me, baby.”

The low flickering of street lights illuminates your face just enough for him to see the deep, dark flush of your cheeks. So dark it nearly matches that crimson color on your lips.

When he realizes what’s happening, Tommy shakes his head. “Nah,” he says. “Don’t go all shy on me now, vampire girl. After all that talk?” He clicks his tongue and leans in close. His breath is warm against the shell of your ear. “Now, I know you can use the word no. I know you’re real good at it, too. You gonna say it now, baby?”

Despite the way his cock throbs in his jeans, pressed against your thigh, Tommy hopes you know he’s not one of those guys. He won’t do anything you don’t want him to do. He won’t even make you feel guilty for saying no, if that’s what you choose.

And when you open your mouth to speak, he half expects some smart remark to come out. Something like in your dreams or you wish. But your words are breathy and your siren eyes are wide as you whisper, “Touch me.”

His fingers curl around your neck—not squeezing, though. Tommy’s real gentle with you. “I am touching you,” he parrots.

And then you fucking beg. Literally, beg, and Tommy Miller feels like a teenage boy about to cum in his fucking pants at nothing but the word, “Please,” in your mouth.

He inhales a shaky breath, willing himself to calm the fuck down. This isn’t about him, he thinks. This is about you. It’s about showing you just how much he likes you, about proving himself a man worthy enough to touch you. And Tommy’s not sure if he is, not yet anyway, but he knows he can make you feel good.

The metal of your silver necklaces are cool against his palm. He moves his hand down your sternum slowly, over the curve of your breast, and stops just below the end of your cropped shirt. It’s black, of course, and modified—cut to shreds, really, only covering the most intimate parts of you. The fabric is soft and billowy and a size too large. He’s thankful for the extra room, though, because it makes it a little too easy to slip his hand beneath the curled edge and shove it over your breasts.

Your bra is black too, made of silky lace. Tommy takes one of your breasts in his hand, and it spills out between his fingers, and he silently confesses to himself that, yeah—he’s definitely not an ass man anymore. He leans down and presses a wet, open mouthed kiss to the flesh, and he can feel your nipple harden through the sheer lace. He hooks his thumbs beneath the band around your ribcage and pushes that up too, to join your top.

And bared to him, you’re even more beautiful than he imagined. And he tells you as much. “Such a pretty little thing,” he murmurs against your skin. Tommy holds both of your tits in his hands now, and slides his thumb over one nipple while he surges forward and takes the other into his mouth.

A shudder leaves you, and your hands fist themselves in his hair. He can feel your heartbeat against his fingertips, pace picking up when he swirls his tongue around the hardened peak. And when he bites down gently, you let out a gasp and push your hips up against his.

You don’t utter a word, but Tommy thinks suddenly he has you all figured out.

He kisses a trail to your other breast, spreading his spit lingering on the first with the pad of his thumb. He’s rougher this time, sucking harder, scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin.

“Oh, God,” you moan, fingernails scratching at his scalp. “You’re so…”

The words go unfinished, because he presses a hand to the seam of your shorts and all the breath seems to leave your lungs. All the thoughts seem to leave your brain, even—and Tommy thinks you look real fucking cute right now. “So what, baby? Hm?”

You’re shivering, wiggling your hips to generate some kind of friction, but Tommy doesn’t give it.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Use those words of yours. I know you can.”

“Surprising,” you admit. But he takes it as a good kind of surprise because you're pretty putty in his hands.

Tommy undoes the button of your denim shorts. He hooks one arm around your hips and jerks you down the hood of your car. “This what you want, pretty girl? Don’t want me to ask for it. You want me to take it. S’that it?”

You don’t answer, but he knows. He knows. Tommy unzips your shorts real slow. And he’s a little surprised to see that beneath all that black exterior, you’ve got baby pink panties on. Not crimson, not seductress red—pink. And they’re the sweetest things he’s ever seen. He trails his fingers along the edge and watches you squirm. “Please,” you say, begging again. Begging for him. “Touch me. I need you t-to, right now. Please.”

He slips his hand beneath your shorts, beneath your fishnet stockings and the pink cotton. And what he finds surprises him. “Aw,” he cooes, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. “Guess you really do need me, huh? You’re so wet, baby.” He runs the tip of his middle finger through your slit, exploring you, memorizing, gathering your slick and bringing it upwards. When he circles your clit, he laughs at the way your back arches off the hood of the car.

“Oh, fuck—yes,” you tell him. “Right there.”

Tommy presses harder, begins to move his fingertip faster. “Here, baby?”

You’re nodding, eyes squeezed shut. “Yes, fuck, yes yes—mmh.”

He closes his mouth around your nipple again, using his free hand to keep your legs spread as far apart as possible. When he snakes his finger down and presses it into your sweet pussy, it takes a significant amount of strength to keep your legs open. You fight him, and your moans echo in the empty parking lot. Tommy is only vaguely aware of the passing cars on the freeway, and finds himself thankful you parked in the back of the open space. “Feels good, hm?”

“So fucking—mm—so fucking good,” you say. The praise is enough to convince him to slide another finger in, and it’s met with a pretty moan of approval.

His cock has never been this hard, Tommy thinks. It’s pressed against your thigh still, and every one of your little movements makes it worse. It makes him near delirious. He wants to bury himself inside of you but knows to save it for later. When he knows more about you, when he knows what it looks like when you cum. He’s got his fingers hooked upwards, caressing that sweet, soft spot, and his pace is unforgiving. He wishes your shorts weren’t in the way, but he does what he can with the clearance you’ve granted him. “Dirty little thing,” he says. “Wanna be touched so bad you spread your legs out in the open.”

Your nails are sharp, leaving indentations at the back of his neck. It only spurs him on more, that little bit of agony. “Don’t stop,” you tell him. “Don’t stop, please—yes—oh God.”

Tommy presses his thumb against your clit, sliding it through your dripping pussy with each rough thrust of his fingers. He can feel you squeezing around them, sucking him in even deeper. “There you go, baby,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to your jaw. “You gonna cum for me? Hm? Pussy’s so fuckin’ wet.”

When your legs start to tremble, Tommy keeps his pace steady. He wants to tip you over that edge, wants to see the way you look when he makes you feel this fucking good. He leans back, breath coming fast, and admires how absolutely fucked out your look. Mouth hanging open, moaning his name, brows knitted together in concentration. Your hands bury themselves in his flannel, desperate for a tether to keep you grounded. Tommy grins, hand on your thigh leaving to instead wrap around your neck.

“Such a pretty girl,” he says through his smile. “You look so good when you fuckin’ behave, sweetheart.”

Your back arches off the hood of the car and your knuckles turn white in his shirt. “Oh, fuck—I’m gonna—”

“I know, I know. Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my fingers—yeah, just like that.” Wetness flood between your legs, filling his palm, and it’s so fucking hot that Tommy moans in response. “Yeah, there you go,” he says, cock throbbing in his jeans. “Good girl, such a good fuckin girl, baby.”

It’s even better than he imagined; you look ethereal. He traces the arch of your body with his hand around your neck, moving it down the slope between your breasts, between your ribs, down to your hips. You fit so perfectly in his hands he starts to wonder if you were tailor-made for them.

When your fingers loosen and fall away from his flannel and your breaths begin to slow, only then does he slip his fingers out of you. He caresses your pusy in his hand, chuckling darkly when he slides over your clit and you let out a sharp gasp, thighs clamping closed around his hips at the sensitivity. When he finally pulls his hand from your denim shorts, his fingers come away glossy and covered in your slick.

Tommy locks eyes with you, raises his hand to his mouth and moans as the heady taste blossoms across his tongue. “Mmm. Better than bourbon,” he says through a low laugh. He licks his fingers clean, and you watch with rapt attention.

He takes a step back, adjusts himself, and holds his hand out for you to take. You let him pull you upwards, off the hood of the car, and he can feel your siren eyes on him as he pulls your bra and t-shirt back into place and buttons your jeans. Your legs are still shaking the smallest bit, and it feels like a victory. “Uhm…thanks. Again,” you say.

A smirk tugs at his mouth. “Turn around,” he orders. He’s a little surprised with how quickly you obey, as if any defiance that once existed within you had been snuffed out the moment he existed within you. Tommy watches your shoulders shake with anticipation, but all he does is pull your cell phone from your back pocket.

He calls himself, saves your phone number under 🦇🖤Vampire Girl🖤🦇, and tucks the device back into your pocket.

“Tuesday at ten,” he says, gathering your hair in one hand and laying it over your shoulder. He leans down, lips less than an inch from your throat. “Let me know where to pick you up.”

You nod softly. “Uhm, I—uh…yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

Tommy kisses your jaw and leaves without another word, feeling like a goddamn king.

[PART TWO]

[masterlist]

[sweatyracoon]

Skz With A Goth Friend/Partner! Reactions!

A/n: As a goth person, I really like this trope, but it’s extremely rare. Hope I don’t disappoint!

Summary: How they treat you as a person during their time with you.

Warnings: Language. I think that’s it. Enjoy! <3

Bangchan:

He treated you no different than he did anyone else. Underneath all of the makeup and accessories, you were human, too. He barely noticed it, honestly. He just saw you. He had that charm, making you fall for him. He bought you snacks and coffee, always being sure to also get you small goth keychains or charms for your bracelets. He didn’t mind it as much as strangers did.

When you first met him, it was by accident. You were auditioning at JYP, only to be turned down because you refused to abandon your style. Leaving, you ran into him, waiting to be judged with his gaze. Instead, you found a worried, warm gaze looking down at you, offering you a hand.

“Hey? You alright?”

Ever since then, you have been attached to his side. He became your support, and he was happy to claim that title. (#gothprotectorchan)

The first time he saw you without the makeup, he didn’t know who you were. And you let him reintroduced himself, and you finally told him, making him blush.

“Why would you do that, y/n!” He was so embarrassed. You reassured him that it didn’t bother you before you hugged him, getting ready to watch a movie.

Lee know:

He found it extremely attractive. He was all for people being real, and the way you presented yourself was screaming, ‘I am me, fuckers’.

He loved that he has never seen your bare face, because he knows that that isn’t your strongest version of you. If you could, he knew that you would tattoo your makeup permanently. He always stood by you, knowing the looks that you get. Fans even dared to ask him if you were his girlfriend, their faces disapproving, which upset him.

“What’s it matter if she Is? She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” He’d say before gazing at you with heart eyes.

He’d always stick up for you, and loved that you let him.

He also loved how feline your features were, the makeup only highlighting them more. You even had the attitude of one, making him smirk whenever you’d start chewing out one of his members for no reason.

He also loved the dramatic outfits. It made him feel the need to match you, making sure to look his best for you as you do for yourself.

Changbin:

He thought the look looked perfect on you, but preferred seeing your face without the makeup. He thought that the natural glow of your skin was gorgeous, but you assured him that with the makeup was when you were your true self.

He was your best friend because he was so supportive. He always made sure to get you things that reminded him of you, and your collection grew perhaps a bit too large.

Nearly everything reminded him of you.

You even tried battling him with rap and lost. A lot. But you didn’t mind. It was fun.

Whenever you walked past him, you made sure to point out how your healed boots made you taller than him, making him respond by stepping on the toe of your shoes, both of you laughing as Hyunjin watched the interaction with a confused expression.

You both had matching rings, black (of course), that you wore on your pinkies. He had never taken his off, even during performances. You took your off before bed, but putting it on was the first thing you did when you woke up.

Hyunjin:

When he first saw you, it was when he first debuted, not fully grown, and slightly awkward. The first thing he thought was, ‘fashion icon’. He saw how comfortable you were in your own skin, how your gaze pushed past the judgmental eyes glaring at you. He needed to befriend you immediately. Now, him being the king at Versace, he became a model alongside you after some convincing, and did duo shoots together.

He was known for being clingy when it came to you, and you both did everything together. He learned a lot fashion wise from you, and loved that you were still the same goth girl he met (hotter, now). Now, any picture he takes has you in it, whether it’s in the background, in the front, or not in the picture at least and he just tagged you.

You were his everything, and he even wants to be you. You were iconic. Your attitude towards the world was so different from his, and he loved that.

He would paint anything you asked for, no matter how disturbing, his mind not questioning it once. He loved and adored you, and would do anything to make you happy.

He even bought you a black rose bouquet, thinking of you when he saw them. Naturally, you loved them.

Han:

He would put a lot of focus on it, and even make jokes about it.

“Going to go brood at the edge of a swamp or something?”

“Jo Jo Siwa? Is that you?”

“Presenting…Emona Lisa!”

It didn’t bother you, though. You found it cute. He put a lot of focus on who you were, making sure people never forgot. He even went as far as to write a song about you, and the color of your soul. It touched your heart.

He would play with the fringe at some of your outfits when you sat next to each other, and loved to talk to you about your jewelry. You would even share at some points. He wore your cherry earrings for a performance, wanting you to see that he could be goth too (hA!). He wanted to show you that you and him were meant to be besties.

During sleepovers, he would see your bare face and call you beautiful, but commented that he liked you with the makeup, making your heart melt. You would paint each other’s nails, him asking you to paint his black. You even do goth makeup on him during those nights, both falling for the look on him.

“I’d fuck myself,” he said, making you choke on air before laughing your lungs out.

“Oh yeah? You into the goth scene, Han?”

“Yeah… I’m also into you,”

Felix:

He watched as danced alongside Minho. He challenged you to dance some difficult dances while wearing your dramatic outfit that had lots of tufts and fluff, but it didn’t stop you from accepting. You were the main dancer o your own group, so it was just natural to you, much to everyone’s surprise.

Felix over when you visited. You were a part of a pastel k-pop group, so you were an obvious contrast to your members. But it never seemed to bother you, which attracted him. He loved how confident you were, and how proud you seemed to be when explaining your style.

He jumped in next to you, dancing with you and Minho. You were all now just having a good time, forgetting about the stupid bet. You proved that it wasn’t difficult. When Minho asked how, all you said was,

“How can I struggle when I’m most comfortable?”

Felix fell in love with the snap of a finger, and in that moment, he was invested.

You both often got coffee together before head in to your respective dance rooms, often talking about childhood and how you got there. One of the things he asked about often was your style and other things related to it. He loved seeing you talking animatedly about something you loved, because it made him love it too.

One day he got shocked by his accidental confidence. You grabbed his hand, asking about one of his rings. He told you about it, and as you went to pull your hand back, he, instead, pulled it closer to his, interlocking his fingers with yours. You didn’t pull away. You walked together hand in hand until you finally had to split.

“Hey,” Felix said, gaining your attention. “Wanna hang later?”

Your eyes lit up.

“Always, Felix!”

Seungmin:

When you asked him to cover hard rock song, he halted his movements, looking at you. You had told him once that his voice would sound amazing in the rock genre, and he accepted the compliment. He didn’t expect you to request something.

So that night he stayed up recording his version of the song. Two days later it was ready, and he sent it to you through bubble.

He was right next to you. Instead of talking, he texted, embarrassed. He watched your expressions, and, unsurprisingly, there wasn’t any. He guessed it had to do with being goth, how you never expressed emotions on the outside. After it was finally done, you pulled the ear buds from your ears, turning to your best friend.

“That was fucking sick, Seungmin,” you told him, smiling. “Sure you don’t want to go solo? I’ll be your manager,” you joked, elbowing him.

His ears were hot, a clear sigh they were red. He looked away from your beautiful pale face, trying to compose himself before speaking. His voice cracked despite his attempt.

“Never going solo., but thanks. It was actually really fun. I’ve never done that with my voice,” he explained, rubbing his nape nervously.

“You did great, love. And thank you…you didn’t have to do this, you know?”

Before he could respond, you kissed him on the cheek, making him freeze.

“Would you be opposed to another request?”

Jeonjin:

You had known each other since childhood, so when your style started changing rapidly, he became confused. But it didn’t shock him. Your personality proved to match your new style well, and it was like he was seeing you for the first time. The true you.

He accepted it quickly, never questioning you once about it. He knew that this was who you were, and who you were meant to be.

He even used some of your fashion advice, just throwing in different colors. You two were so close that when he debuted, they offered you a staff position so you two would still be together. You accepted after hearing the proposal, Jeonjin ecstatic and happy. He couldn’t imagine being without you.

As the years went on, your style became more dramatic and seductive, heavier makeup that highlighted your features, and skintight clothes showing a bit of skin rather than baggy dark clothes. The same thing happened with Jeonjin. No longer the teenage baby bread, now muscular, sexy toast.

You two were the visual duo. He even made sure that some of your outfits matched, even if the colors were too dark for his personal taste, making your heart flutter. He was so thoughtful to you.

He even let you do his makeup for some of the performances, because he knew you knew how to do more than goth styles. You pointed his nails, and did a nightly skin routine too.

[eoieopda]

*tata mic face* dad!yoongi pls 🙂

everybody’s gangster until the tata mic face comes out 🫣 please accept this nonsense, which shall henceforth be known as dadchwita.

1/2/23: a second dadchwita drabble can be found here!

Darksided AU Masterlist

Cheek smushed into the pillow, a weight on the small of your back kept you from rolling over. Bleary-eyed, you squinted ahead to find your husband in a similar position. His eyes were, of course, still shut.

Yoongi’s alarm clock hadn’t gone off yet, indicating it was even earlier than six in the morning. This wasn’t much of a surprise, however. Neither of you had been able to utilize that alarm much over the past five years.

Unable to make full use of your mouth, what you came up with was a mumble at best: “Your children would like your attention, love.”

When he didn’t stir, you slid your arm across the sheets without breaching the border of your comforter. You tapped the tip of his nose gently with your index finger, searching for proof of life. Impassive, as was to be expected at this hour.

If not for that gravelly morning voice blowing his cover, he could’ve kept his grift going. Stayed in bed, soaking in whatever extra minutes he could gather while you attempted to persuade your children back into their beds. It would’ve been difficult, given the current circumstances, but you’d seen him sleep through worse.

“I thought we settled on this. Before seven o’clock, they’re your kids,” he groaned.

You snorted; the force of the exhale through your nose prompted him to crack his eyes open. This was your favorite way to start every day: watching his pupils dilate as he woke up and saw you before anything or anyone else. Even if that occurred before sunrise.

“I think they’ve got us surrounded, general,” He yawned, “What’s your status?”

There was wiggling above you. Two arms slipped around your back in a hug that couldn’t quite complete its circle around you. Judging by the quiet affection, the child clinging to you like a backpack was your oldest; you were sure. Sweet as honey, that five year-old, and as soft-spoken as her father.

You reported out, furthering the bit, “I’ve literally got opposition breathing down my neck, sergeant. Their leader, Iseul, is holding her position. What’s your status?”

Your youngest - at only eighteen months - had fashioned himself into a hat for his father. Two tiny legs draped over Yoongi’s head at his chin and forehead, framing the face shooting a sleepy, closed-mouth smile your way.

Of course his father hadn’t woken up when he climbed up there. Perhaps Iseul gave him a boost once she was done springing him from his room.

Yoongi’s arms reached up to keep the little one’s balance. He babbled excitedly at the attention, and kicked his legs in a way that made Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, “They’ve got a tank, general! Woo-jin is bringing out the artillery!”

“Hold that line, sergeant, no matter what it takes! On my signal, we launch a counter strike!”

His twinkling eyes set their sights on your face, waiting for your instruction. A moment later, you narrowed your eyes, pursed your lips, and nodded firmly.

Your respective, living accessories each exploded into giggles as their parents lurched upright and snatched them both up. Iseul squealed as your fingertips tickled her sides without mercy. Even flailing wildly, she made no real effort to escape your lap or your teasing.

“Tell me where your sniper is!” You demanded through your own giddy laughter, “I’ll abide by the Geneva Convention, but I won’t let you off the hook!”

Next to you, Yoongi tugged up Woo-jin’s dinosaur-print pajama top and blew a loud raspberry on the toddler’s bare belly. He wasn’t quick enough in his retreat, though. Woo-jin’s chubby, socked foot knocked him right in the ear.

“General, I’ve been hit!” He sucked in a massive breath, then released it in a gasp, “I’m not gonna make it. Promise me that you’ll tell my wife I loved her -“

You were laughing so hard, your eyes were swimming. But Yoongi didn’t end his theatrics there. He never shied away from melodrama if given the stage for it.

“- and that there is a more efficient way to load the dishwasher, but I didn’t push it because she does this scary thing with her eyebrows when given constructive criticism!”

With that, his second gasp came even more loudly than his first. He closed his eyes, let his tongue slip out of the corner of his mouth, and then he slumped over until his body covered Woo-jin’s. With his arms already wrapped firmly around your youngest, Yoongi’s weight was maintained exclusively on his own elbows.

“No, no, daddy!” Woo-jin’s tiny voice erupted from under the black curtain of Yoongi’s hair, but it was difficult to hear over the rapid-fire kisses Yoongi was peppering over his cheeks - and his squeaky, belly laugh.

Iseul, who was breathless and blushing cherry red in your arms, shrieked, “Now!”

“Oh, no!” You squealed, eyes wide with genuine apprehension.

The four-year-old wild card hadn’t made a peep yet. Given his penchant for chaos, this was deeply unsettling. Next to you, Yoongi ceased his barrage of affection and tilted his head to look your way. The uneasy expression on his face was identical to yours.

There was a roar from behind you that seemed to pause the Earth’s rotation. As if in slow motion, Yoongi’s jaw dropped open as his gaze tracked movement you were unable to see. You, none the wiser, braced yourself for whatever was coming next.

From the bed frame above you - formerly hidden in plain sight, uncharacteristically still - came Duri, like a bat out of hell.

His kamikaze dive down onto your back ended with two arms linking around your neck - much more carefully than he’d ever done before. His clumsy hand pushed your hair off your cheek to make way for a sloppy kiss. Your heart, still pounding, swelled in your chest.

Iseul’s flushed face was taken over by a mischievous grin. She pushed her messy bangs out of her eyes before meeting her dongsaeng’s waiting hand in a high-five. Victorious, she snickered, “We win, mommy.”

Apparently, you really hadn’t learned your lesson with her father.

You really can’t trust the quiet ones, can you?

[bialy-lis]

And they said, "Speak now"

Rise of the TMNT Leonardo/Yuichi Usagi One-shot THIS IS PART OF THE SERIES - might be confusing to read without context

Ao3

---

If Leo had known whose wedding they were going to, he would have dressed a bit better. He would have gone a bit wilder with accessories, chosen a shirt whose collar better accentuated the line of his chin, maybe even, who knows, he would have reached deeper into his roots and decided on a few more Japanese accents. And he would have definitely put on better socks.

Not that he looked bad the way he was, 'cause he didn't. He might not have worn clothes every day, but he had always known fashion and how to present himself in a way that would catch the eye and be the center of attention. It just always could have been better. And it would have been if Big Mama had been a little more specific about what kind of party she was inviting them to, instead of giving them the date, time, and a quick note that they should dress elegantly because someone was planning to say the sacramental "I do." Although maybe not "sacramental"; Leo still had no idea if yokai had any religion, and he kept forgetting to ask.

Anyway, he was dressed well, very well compared to his brothers, and more than ready for his first real, big party. Because he didn't think Big Mama liked small, modest ceremonies. So he was excited, slightly impatient, and ready to open the portal and go through it himself at any moment, since his family had decided to dawdle so much - when it suddenly hit him that in the heat of the moment he had completely forgotten to check that everyone was taking it as seriously as he was.

The reason, to be specific, had just appeared in the doorway, dressed in a blue tracksuit with arms filled with a giant pumpkin tied with a pink bow. And had the nerve to still call himself his boyfriend in such an outfit.

Leo looked him up and down, twice, just to be sure, trying to convince himself that this wasn't so bad, but even he wasn't that good at lying to himself. And he'd had a lot of practice at it.

"You're going dressed like this?" he made sure, still with a faint hope.

With a sigh of relief, Usagi set the pumpkin on the floor and waved his numb hands, frowning.

"Do I look bad?" he asked, glancing down as if he wasn't sure what exactly he was wearing and was looking for a clue. He apparently didn't find any, because when he looked back at his boyfriend, he seemed confused and maybe even slightly offended.

Leo opened his mouth and then closed it, deciding that honesty might not be the best option.

"Nooo..." he finally denied, very convincingly. "Not that it's bad. But it's so..." He twirled his hand in the air. "Normal. Too casual for a wedding."

Usagi looked down again, this time checking the back of his pants just to be sure. He spun around, adjusting his sleeves, and finally rocked back on his heels as if to make sure he hadn't forgotten his prosthetic.

"I don't understand what you're talking about," he finally said. "I've been to loads of weddings, and never had a suit on."

Leo raised an eyebrow.

"Where the hell did you go to weddings?" he asked, but Usagi just shrugged.

"I had a large family."

Leo immediately decided he'd rather not pursue the subject further.

"That explains it, sure. And you need that thing because...?" He pointed to the pumpkin lying between them.

Given his boyfriend's past, he half expected to be slapped in the face with another very funny, not at all traumatic story, but, thankfully, in a small miracle, Usagi just smiled broadly, clearly proud of himself.

"It's a gift. For the happpy couple." He leaned down to pat the vegetable with the utmost tenderness. "Very practical - you can eat it. Best kind of gift."

Leo concluded that it could have been worse. And that he should probably have thought about a gift himself, but it had completely slipped his mind.

"Okay. You know what? Whatever. I look great for both of us, you'll blend in somehow." He flipped the ends of his mask like hair. "Can you go find Mikey? I'll take care of Donnie."

It took a good ten minutes to gather everyone in the living room. They wasted another fifteen minutes on Splinter, who had completely forgotten they were going anywhere, despite being reminded of it every chance he got for the past week, had fallen asleep in his armchair, and when he woke up from his nap he was extremely grumpy and dawdling. Leo suspected he would have less trouble getting a five-year-old ready, and he seriously considered leaving his father at home, but something told him he was in the minority on that score.

On the positive side, he noted with relief that at least his family knew how to dress. Mikey, in his long, colorful tunic, looked far too related to Draxum than anyone should be, but it was clear that he felt as comfortable in it as possible. Donnie, in his white shirt and unbuttoned jacket, looked more elegant and traditional, and even Splinter, when he finally managed to pull himself together, didn't stand out too much. Leo didn't get a chance to see Raph, because his older brother had sneaked out of the house first thing in the morning, but considering that he was going to pick up Mona, it was safe to assume that he had squeezed into his best suit and spilled a bottle of perfume on himself. And eaten the other one. The fact that only his invitation included a companion was very rude in Leo's opinion. The fact that Mona was mentioned by name in it, when absolutely no one had bothered to mention her to Big Mama yet - damn worrying.

"Okay, does everyone but me have a present?" Leo looked from the box Donnie held under his arm to the ribbon-tied painting, behind which he could just see the top of his little brother’s head. "Really?"

Mikey leaned out from behind the canvas to make a face at him.

"Everyone but you knows not to go to a party empty-handed," he huffed, not without a grain of truth. Leo wasn't going to admit it, but he wasn't going to argue either, which he saw as a compromise.

"Can I sign in under one of yours?"

"Absolutely not." Mikey circled his painting, shielding it with his own body. "Don't even try."

Donnie just looked at him sideways.

"Nardo, touch that package and I'll break your fingers."

Usagi, meanwhile, eagerly picked up his pumpkin, moving it a little closer.

"You can add your name to mine," he offered, not having his hands free and pointing with his knee to the place where his own, slightly crooked signature appeared.

Leo considered for a moment how much he valued his dignity, but in the end decided it had never been worth much.

"Ugh, fine," he decided, reaching for a marker. "If anyone ask, I just really respect your village culture."

"Hey!" Usagi spun around, moving the pumpkin out of his reach. "What the hell is wrong with my 'village culture'?"

Leo gave himself a few seconds to digest a completely honest answer, to make sure none of the words actually passed his throat.

"Absolutely nothing, cotton tail." He assured, putting all of his heart and acting skills into it. "Your culture is just so... interesting." Usagi glared at him once more. "And it suits you very well."

Usagi narrowed his eyes, but then seemed to decide to trust him after all and brightened up visibly.

"Fine, I believe you.”

Leo took the opportunity, before he changed his mind, to quickly sign the pumpkin, and then put his arm around Usagi's waist, kissing him on the cheek. And again, on the temple. He would have kissed him a third time, but Mikey had booed them and there was a very real threat that he would throw something, too. He couldn't seem to break this new habit.

(...)

[lilac-ravenclaw]

Hello and welcome! Let me introduce my Hogwarts Legacy MC, Raven Fawlty. I love her so much and want to share her adventures with everyone.🪻

• Is it ok to draw Raven?

Yes, please! Just please tag me with your drawing. In return I’ll draw your Hogwarts MC! 👩🏻‍🎨✨

Instagram | DeviantArt | ArtStation

✨ artof.ravnbee on Ko-Fi ✨ Thank you!

If anyone is interested, I created a playlist on Spotify. Music that reminds me of my MC and her personality, things she's going through, or her relationship with Sebastian. I'll continue to add songs as time goes on. Hope you enjoy!

🎧 Spotify Link 🎧

General Info

Name: Raven Fawlty - { reason for her name for me } “Ravens” often represents ancient wisdom, transformation and intelligence. The name “Raven” means “dark haired or wise”. “Fawlty”… honestly this was a gimmick at first. As I love the show, Fawlty Towers with John Cleese. Ran in the mid-late 70s with only 12 episodes, and was hilarious imo. it was the first name I could think of when creating my character.

Birthday: January 29, 1874 { The Raven was published in Jan 29, 1845 }

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius

Sex/Gender: Female { she/her }

Ethnicity: Latina and English

House: Ravenclaw

Wand:

Stalk: Dark Brown

Wood type: Willow

Core type: Unicorn Hair

Flexibility: Reasonably Supply

Wand Length: 12”

Handle: Checkerboard - Blue

Patronus: Black Bear

The Black Bear is known for their adaptability and resourcefulness. Others will see her as a fierce opponent who will protect herself and those close to her. Only those close to her will know of that softer side she usually keeps hidden away.

Physical Appearance

Eye color: Light Violet

Skin color: Tan/light brown, with olive undertones.

Hair: Long length and black, usually worn in a braid.

Height: 5’1” (155cm)

Weight: 110lbs (49kg)

Body type: Hourglass and petite

Birthmarks: small mole on the face, left cheek

Fashion style: Loves wearing a comfortable trouser, but will still wear a button up blouse and a skirt. Doesn’t care for the traditional school robe, but favors a nice blazer/jacket when needed.

Accessories: Pierced ears for small earrings, (wears a pair of snake gold snake earrings Sebastian gave to her as a birthday gift).

History

Place of birth: Somewhere in the UK

Childhood: Grew up in orphanage in London. Doesn’t know who her parents are, or her real name. She has a love for literature and took the name “Raven” after Edgar Allen Poe’s poem, The Raven. The orphanage she resided in was very strict and had a harsh living environment. The caretaker was mean to the children, much like a Miss Hannigan from the show Annie. So much so, that is how Raven acquired her last name “Fawlty”. A homonym for “faulty”, meaning of faults, inadequate, or wrong. (Which is also why the show, Fawlty Towers, got its name too.) Unknowingly to be a future Ravenclaw, took the insult of a name as a challenge to succeed and learn all she could and be the best version of herself.

Family history: Her father originally from South America and went to Castelobruxo, a wizarding school in Brazil. Being from the heart of the Amazon rain forest, he had a profound love for magical creatures. Which is where Raven gets her love for magical creatures as well. He had traveled all over the world and eventually made his way to Europe where he met Raven’s mother, was also traveling abroad as well. She had also attending Hogwarts in her youth, being a former Ravenclaw too. She loved astronomy, and music literature (her mother, Raven's grandmother, was a music instructor). It is unknown what happened to her parents in their untimely death, and how Raven ended up at the orphanage. **Keep in mind, Raven herself doesn’t know this. I just wanted to write this down to know where she gets her personality and interests come from ☺️**

Notable events/milestones: Raven always knew somehow.. she was different. Though, according to the wizarding world’s standards, it took a little longer for her powers to emerge. Even small things would happen here and there, without her realizing what had happen and that she was the cause of such strange occurrences. Until one day when the orphan keeper (the person who runs the orphanage) was “disciplining” one of the children and Raven stepped in to protect them and that enough was enough. She had forced a large shelf to fall over onto the orphan keeper… it was as if what she was thinking became a reality. Afraid of what would happen, Raven ran away, seeking shelter where she could. As Professor Fig was assigned the task of giving Raven her letter and bringing her to Hogwarts, it still took no time at all for Professor Fig to find Raven even though she was missing from the orphanage. She was hesitant at first but overall wasn’t scared at all, and actually was relieved to know there were others like her. A whole world like her just waiting to be apart of and that was the happiest day in her life.

Other notes: She had studied with Professor Fig for the duration of the summer before starting at Hogwarts. Having only gained her powers after the school year had finished. He had become the first father figure to Raven.

Psychological Traits

Personality type: INFP (Mediator) is a personality type with the introverted, intuitive, feeling and prospecting traits. These rare personality types tend to be quiet, open-minded, and imaginative, and they apply a caring and creative approach to everything they do.

Personality traits: intelligent, witty, adventurous, warm, courageous, emotionally intuitive, and quick-thinker.

Introvert/Extrovert: Sometimes both. Loves to be around her close friends, but doesn’t mind spending time alone reading a good book or flying on her broom.

Hobbies: Star-gazing, tending to the magical beasts in the Vivarium, reading, and singing. Doesn’t audition for the school choir til her 6th year. She doesn’t tell anyone except Poppy if she should try out, as Raven was 100% nervous about it and never sang in front of people.

Loves: Flying on her broom and singing in the choir.

Morals/Virtues: Values being compassionate and always being there for her friends/loved ones at a moment’s notice. Tries to do right by them and stand by their side when times are tough. She knows what it feels like to be alone in certain situations and doesn’t want her friends to go through the same thing.

Phobias/Fears: Being trapped in a “cage” and being forgotten.

Relationships

Love Interest: Sebastian Sallow… From the very beginning she felt like there was some sort of connection, but was a bit too oblivious to see it at first. He’s very charming and almost flirtatious with other girls, so figured she wasn’t any different. Sometimes she will catch him sneaking a glance in her direction during class, while studying in the Library or at mealtimes in the Great Hall. It was so easy to stand by him and help him find a cure for his sister without even a second thought. It may have been foolish, but Raven knows what it’s like to have no support when at your lowest. To feel like all hope is lost. She can understand losing your parents at a young age.

Parents: Deceased, Names Unknown

Grandparents: Unknown, Names Unknown

Best friends: Poppy Sweeting and Natsai Onai

Friends: Ominis Gaunt, Garreth Weasley, Amit Thakker, and Imelda Reyes

Rivals: Leander Prewett, not in a bad way. It's mostly a friendly competition when playing Summoner's Court.

Enemies: Peeves the Poltergeist, damn him for catching them in the Library!

Clubs: Crossed Wands, Summoner’s Court, and Hogwart's Glee Club ( was super hesitant in trying out for the school's choir, but her best friends Poppy and Natsai gave her the confidence she needed to try out).

If you’ve made it this far then thank you so much for reading. Hope you enjoyed learning about my MC✨💙

[eddiemunsonssparklyeyes]

Sugar

Part 1 of a two part Valentine's series: Sugar and Spice.

Warnings: slight suggestive tones in parts, but other than that it's just fluff! Part 2 will have more warnings.

Summary: You're the new girl at Hawkins High and you've caught the gaze of a certain metalhead this Valentine's Day. Little does he know that he's caught your gaze, too. Thanks to some good natured meddling from Dustin, you're poised to attend the Valentine's Day dance together! (No use of Y/N)

Word Count: 3k

Valentine's Day. For most people, it was the day you expressed your feelings to your loved ones. You could do this in the form of flowers, candy, jewelry, stuffed animals, or any other number of ways. Walking through the halls of Hawkins High, it was obvious. Love was in the air. Unless, of course, you were in the group that the rest of the student body had deigned "the freaks." Then, Valentine's Day this year was better known as "Thursday." Eddie, being King of the Freaks, wouldn't have even known what day it was if not for the barrage of teens in the hallway professing their undying love to their fourth partner since the beginning of the school year. He rolled his eyes at the performative nature of it all. He slammed his locker door and continued the rant he'd been on since the moment he'd walked in the door.

"It's just a made-up holiday, man. It doesn't even mean anything. It's just an excuse for companies to sell stuff to poor saps who think that love is measured in dollar signs. It's sick!"

Dustin nodded in mock agreement; regretting having mentioned sending Suzie flowers.

"And another thing!" Eddie began, but stopped abruptly, staring off in the distance. His gaze had locked on to the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. She was wearing a baby pink pinafore dress over a white sweater with big, red hearts all over it. Frilly pink socks peaked out over the top of her white sneakers. Even the clips holding her hair back from her face were shaped like hearts. She was a walking billboard for everything Eddie hated, but damn did she look good.

Eddie didn't think he'd ever seen you around before. He was sure he would have noticed you. In fact, it was your first week at Hawkins High, and someone had given you a tip that the school was really big into Valentine's Day, hence the outfit you were currently wearing. It wasn't too far out of your normal fashion tastes, but you threw in a few extra heart-shaped accessories for good measure. No one wants to be the new kid that sticks out like a sore thumb.

"Eddie! Earth to Eddie!" Dustin waved his hand in front of Eddie's face, snapping him out of his trance, "Where'd you go, man?"

"Who's that?" Eddie asked nodding towards you.

"Oh. That's the new girl. We have Chem Lab together. She's nice." He shrugged.

"I've never seen her around."

"Really? I think she's in Mrs. O'Donnell class with you."

"Ahh... I haven't been to her class all week." Eddie grimaced.

"Why are you asking about her, anyway? Do you liiikeee heeerrr?" Dustin teased.

"No!" Eddie was defensive, "I don't even know her!" He paused before adding, "She is really pretty, though."

Just then the bell rang and students began shuffling off to their respective classes. Eddie considered going to Mrs. O'Donnell's class today, just to talk to you, but you looked like a Hawkins High Princess in the making, so he doubted if you'd even give him the time of day.

By the time lunch came, Eddie had made up his mind. No way a girl like you would ever be interested in a guy like him, so best not even to waste his time. Imagine his surprise when Dustin came walking into the cafeteria with you following close behind. He had a shit-eating grin on his face as he approached the Hellfire table.

He doled out quick introductions between the two of you and added, “Since she's new here, I figured I'd offer for her to eat lunch with us."

That wannabe Cupid little shit!

When Eddie didn't respond right away, you chimed in, "I hope that's okay! I don't play Dungeons and Dragons or anything, but I haven't really made any friends, so..." You trailed off, hating how pathetic you sounded.

Eddie thought you sounded angelic. "Oh, uh, of course! Here!" He stammered as he stood and pulled out the chair closest to him for you to sit down, shooting Dustin a quick glare. Dustin's grin grew wider as he gave Eddie a dramatic double thumbs up behind your back.

"So…" Eddie cleared his throat, "If you don't play DND, what do you do for fun?" He hoped the question came across like casual conversation and not like he was fishing for information, which he was.

"Well," You grinned and Eddie swore the room got brighter, "At my old school, I was in the drama club. I was involved in every production they put on last year, either cast or crew. I love it!"

Eddie put on a posh accent, "Ah, a fan of the theater, I see."

You giggled, "Very much so."

He smiled and took a moment to take you in, "You know, I bet you'd like DND. It's very theatrical."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. We're meeting after school in the drama room tomorrow. You should come."

"Okay." You agreed with a grin.

You knew among this group of metalheads and DND nerds you stood out like a sore thumb, which is exactly what you'd been trying to avoid, but you couldn't help but want to be around Eddie. He was magnetic, and you’d be lying if you said he hadn’t caught your eye.

You spent the rest of lunch getting to know his friends who were very excitedly trying to explain Dungeons and Dragons to you. Their enthusiasm was infectious and you found yourself genuinely looking forward to sitting in on their session.

"So, um..." You felt almost embarrassed about what you were about to ask, "Are any of you going to the Valentine's dance tonight?"

"Are you going?" Dustin asked you as he glanced over at Eddie and wiggled his eyebrows.

"I was thinking about it, but I don't really know anyone here yet, and I don't want to go by myself."

"I'm going." Eddie said a little too quickly.

"You are?" You were surprised. He was the one you least expected to be going, and you felt your cheeks heating up at the prospect of going to a Valentine’s Day dance with Eddie.

"Mmhmm... Yep... I love... school dances." He said unconvincingly.

"Me too! I mean, they can be a little cheesy, but it's fun to go dance and hang out with your friends."

"I can give you a ride if you want." Eddie offered.

"That would be awesome!" You pulled a pen from your bag and scribbled your address on a napkin that you handed to him, "Can you pick me up at six?"

Eddie placed his hand holding the napkin solemnly over his heart, and reverted back to his posh voice, "Your wish is my command."

Eddie ended up skipping Mrs. O'Donnell's class. He had never in his life been to a school dance, and he had no idea what you were supposed to wear to one. He was cursing himself for telling you he was going. Why did he do that? Was he really that smitten with you after a single conversation? The answer was, obviously, yes. Of course, he was. How could he not be when you smiled so sweetly, and laughed at his lame attempts at jokes, and that laugh harmonized perfectly with the pluck he felt on his heartstrings, and you got along with his unruly-band-of-misfits friends, and you smelled faintly like vanilla and strawberries, and… and… Okay, so yes. After one conversation, he was willing to forgo all his ideas about conventionalism if it meant he got to spend a few minutes alone with you. Sue him.

 He went straight home to rummage through his closet. He found one of the few pairs of jeans he owned without holes in them and a burgundy button up shirt Wayne had gotten him for his birthday a few years ago, insisting every young man needed a nice shirt. Eddie had never worn it, but he was grateful for Wayne's foresight now. The only problem was that Eddie was a bit taller now than he was when Wayne bought the shirt and his arms were a bit longer. The sleeves didn't reach all the way to his wrists. He unbuttoned the cuffs and rolled the sleeves up a few times, revealing the tattoos on his forearms. Looking in the mirror he ruffled his hair and toyed with the idea of pulling it back in a bun. He gathered all the hair to the nape of his neck and turned his head scanning his reflection. Then, he dropped his hair and shook it out and shifted uncomfortably, biting his lip in concentration as he wrestled with this very important decision. Then, he repeated this process a few more times before deciding just to leave it down. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and surveyed the final look. He had no idea if this was too formal, or too casual, but it was the best he could do. Before he walked out the door, he went into the bathroom and dabbed a bit of Wayne's Old Spice cologne on his neck, hoping it wasn't overkill, but desperate to impress you. He had one more stop to make before picking you up.

Eddie was a naturally fidgety person, but the whole drive to your house he drummed his fingers restlessly against the steering wheel and his knee didn't stop bouncing once. He was so nervous. He told himself not to get so worked up. This probably wasn't even a date. You just didn't want to go to the dance by yourself, so you asked your new friends. You didn't even ask Eddie specifically. So, this wasn't a date. So, he shouldn't be so nervous. He was so nervous.

He pulled into your driveway and took a deep breath, building up the courage to go knock on your door. No sooner had he made it to the porch and raised his fist to knock, you swung the door wide and greeted him.

"Hey!" You grinned, "I saw you walking up."

Eddie's jaw dropped. You were wearing a red, lace dress that fell just above your knees. The neckline was curved to look like a heart, which unintentionally (or maybe intentionally) accented the shape of your breasts, at which he was struggling not to stare. Your hair was swept back in a loose updo with a few tendrils framing your face. You were wearing lipstick that matched your dress and a pair of patent white kitten heels. 

"You..." Eddie cleared his throat, "You look... wow..." He trailed off shaking his head in awe.

You swung your hips back and forth so your dress swished around your knees.

"Thank you, kind sir." You mimicked his accent from earlier, "Might I say you look quite dapper as well."

Eddie laughed, "Thanks."

"Are you ready to go?" you smiled.

"Your chariot awaits, m'lady." He gestured toward his van and extended his elbow which you looped both your arms around. He opened the passenger door for you and helped you in before climbing in to the driver's seat.

"Thank you for taking me to the dance." You leaned your head back against the seat and turned to face him.

"My pleasure. Before we go, I got you something."

You sat up straight, "You did?"

Eddie rummaged around behind his seat for a moment, looking for what he had stopped to buy earlier, before pulling out a heart-shaped box. He never in his life thought he would be buying someone a heart-shaped anything, but somehow, he was already wrapped around your finger and committed to doing anything he thought might make you smile.            

"Happy Valentine's Day." He said as he handed it to you.

You grinned ear to ear, "You got me chocolate?! Thank you!"

"You're welcome." He chuckled at your enthusiasm as he pulled out of your driveway.

You took the lid of the box and looked thoughtfully at the roulette in front of you. "Hmm..." You selected one and took a cautious bite, "Ugh! Raspberry!" Your face twisted up in disgust.

"What? Raspberry is the best!" Eddie argued.

"Well, here. It's all yours." You held the half-eaten chocolate to Eddie's mouth, still wet with your spit. He suppressed a soft moan and felt his heart racing as he parted his lips and you dropped the candy in before returning to the box in your lap. His lower lip tickled from where your finger had brushed it and he subconsciously nibbled the spot and tried to keep his eyes on the road and not on the dream-come-to-life in the passenger seat.

You selected another one and took a bite, "Caramel! Now that's more like it!"

Eddie made a silent mental note that you hated raspberry, but liked caramel. Just in case he ever needed to know that. He hoped someday he’d need to know that.

When you got to the school, you could hear the music from the parking lot and see the lights flashing in the windows. Eddie almost backed out until he saw how excited you looked. You smiled, and he knew he was a goner.

"Wait right there!" He said as you unbuckled your seat belt.

He jumped out of the van and rushed around to the passenger side to open your door for you.

"I never would have guessed you were such a gentleman." You smiled and raised your eyebrow in a way that suggested you were only teasing.

'Me either.'  Eddie thought.

You led the way to the gym half walking, half skipping.

"Oh! I love this song!" You exclaimed as soon as you were closed enough to discern lyrics from the loud thumping, grabbing Eddie's hand and pulling him toward the dance floor.

You began swaying your hips and twirling to the beat. Eddie stood and watched you, awkwardly nodding his head along to the song he was only vaguely familiar with. You sighed and rolled your eyes with a grin.

"Come on, Munson! I know you've got better moves than that!"

You grabbed his hands in yours and began shaking his arms back and forth as if to loosen him up. Keeping his right hand in yours, you raised his arm up and spun underneath it, twirling back to grab his left hand again. Eddie watched you in adoration. You really were beautiful and watching you dance in front of him was just what he needed to lighten up and enjoy himself. He began moving to the music and before too long was swinging his arms and kicking his legs out erratically in an intentionally overexaggerated way that made you laugh. He had told you that he loved school dances, but you guessed the closest thing he'd ever done to "dancing" was probably in a mosh pit. It was endearing how he was putting himself out there so you wouldn't have to be at the dance alone. The song ended and you collapsed breathless and giggling into his chest.

"I knew you had the moves!"

He smiled at you and tried to think of something clever to say. His train of thought was interrupted by the next song starting. A slow one.

"Uh...um..." His cheeks flushed, "I'm gonna go get us some punch."

He turned to walk away, but you caught his wrist.

"Not so fast! You're not going to leave me alone in the middle of the dance floor during a slow song. You can get punch later. Come here."

You pulled him back into you and draped your arms across his shoulders, linking your fingers behind his neck. He slowly, nervously lowered his hands to your waist and you stepped in closer to him. Looking up at him with earnest eyes you asked,

"You don't go to a lot of school dances, do you?

He winced, "That obvious?"

You smiled, "I was surprised when you said that you did, and you just don't seem like you're in your element."

"This is actually the first school dance I've ever been to. They're... not really my scene." He admitted.

"So why did you tell me you were going tonight?"

"Well, because you said you wanted to go… and telling you I was going seemed less scary than actually asking you on a date." He finished softly.

You pondered this for a moment.

"Can I tell you something?"

He looked at you expectantly.

"I've practically been begging Dustin to introduce me to you. He kept telling me that I wasn't "your type." But, then today he invited me to have lunch with you guys. I have no idea what changed his mind, but I’m so glad he did. Honestly, I only brought up the dance because I was too afraid to ask you out.”

Eddie blinked slowly as he considered that you had noticed him before he noticed you, and that you had wanted to get to know him.

"First of all, sweetheart," He began, "Dustin doesn't know shit about "my type." Second, I was just telling Dustin this morning how pretty you are and the little shit got it in his mind to play matchmaker."

"Really?"

“Yeah, that kid really thinks he knows what’s best for everyone. I mean, he’s usually right, but still. He gets this tone and –”

“No,” you cut off his rambling, “I mean, you really think I’m pretty?” You blushed, feeling silly.

"What are you even talking about?" He stepped back and held you at an arm’s length looking over you from head to toe, "Look at you! You’re fuckin' gorgeous."

Your blush deepened to a warm crimson, "You're gorgeous." You whispered shyly.

Eddie looked at you like you hung the moon.

“Do… do you…” He trailed off.

“Do I…?” You prompted.

“Can I…”

“Can you…?”

“Can I kiss you?” He blurted.

You grinned and stepped in close to him, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“I was hoping that was what you were trying to ask.”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief and closed the gap between your lips. His lips were surprisingly soft as they moved against yours slowly and tenderly. You melted into him with your hands planted against his chest, and Eddie decided then and there that Valentine’s Day was his favorite holiday.

[ninjaneonleon]

Arrival

Here's my little bit of propaganda for the @tmntaucompetition before we really get underway!

--------

Leo took a breath before looking around. The last thing he remembered was hanging out in Japan with his bros and everyone else, now he was… somewhere else. At least his brothers were here, and so was Yuichi, Casey, CJ, Mona, April and Juan. They seemed to be in some sort of arena that looked vaguely familiar. Had Leo been here before?

“Wait, I remember this place!” Mikey cried suddenly. “Remember when we met all those alternate dimension versions of ourselves? It’s like that!” It took a moment for Leo to remember. That’s right, he had met a lot of other versions of him, a lot of them very traumatised. He hadn’t known about the Kraang back then, hadn’t known why the older versions of himself had lost arms or looked so haunted. He didn’t get why a lot of them had cried and clung to his brothers like they were the most important people on earth. Well, that part he understood, but not the crying part. He understood now. He wished he didn’t. Idly he wondered what had happened to that older Leo and Mikey he had hung out with, Angelo and Leon they had called themselves. He hoped things were going well for them, they were cool. “Raph remembers now! How are we here again?” Raph asked, looking around. “Isn’t it obvious?” Donnie asked with a grin. He posed and sparkled. “Clearly we’re some of the more popular versions of our counterparts. We’re in some sort of competition because we’re clearly the best. And with our more complicated designs and fashionable accessories–” he flipped the edge of his shawl for emphasis. “We’re perfectly marketable and easily recognisable.” “You guys have been here before?” Yuichi asked, looking around in awe. “Wait, do you think there are other versions of me here? What about Momo and CJ? April? Juan?” “I know we’ve seen other versions of April,” Mikey said thoughtfully. “And there were older Leo’s so there has to be other CJs here too, and Caseys are a given. I dunno about Momos and Juans though, they seem pretty unique to our universe so far.” “Of course I’m a given, I’m Casey Jones!” Casey cried, posing with the hockey stick she somehow brought out of nowhere. “And naturally, I'm gonna be the coolest of all other Caseys!” “Well we won’t know that for sure until we talk to some people! You guys wait here, I’m gonna see if I can find our friends from before–” Leo cut himself off as he glanced around. “Wait, I see some! Hey! Gemini! It’s good to see you again!” The two turtle twins looked over in unison. They glanced around before walking over, with the alternate Leo giving a friendly wave and the alternate Donnie giving a polite nod. “It’s great to see you guys again too. Didn’t think we’d be back here again, things have gotten a little… restrictive recently,” Leo Gemini said. Leo flinched, remembering that these two had been raised by Big Mama in their universe. That was something Leo could relate to now. He wondered if that meant they’d have more in common now. “I can imagine. Anyway, it’s great to see you again Gemini. Gemini. Hopefully we don’t get our asses handed to us too badly by you guys again.” He gave the twins both a nod and a bright grin before they wandered off. Juan stayed plastered to Donnie’s side, but his eyes did follow after Gemini Donnie appreciatively. Leo suspected that his Donnie was about to get a little more hostile to the witchy soft shell. “They seemed nice,” Mona said, peering after them. She hadn’t let go of Raph or CJ’s hands since getting her bearings. “But they seemed strong. Hopefully we’re not against them in the first round…”

“Well, since we’re here, let’s look around. See if we can find any familiar faces and maybe make some new friends while we wait for everything to start,” Raph offered with a grin. He squeezed Mona’s hand. “After all, we dunno who we’re gonna be up against and what we’re doing. Let’s get comfy before we get too caught up in the contests.” “Sounds like a good idea, big guy,” April agreed with a nod. “Okay, listen up! We’ll make this corner our home base, we meet back here in one hour or when the next announcement comes out. Got it?” Everyone nodded. “Great, now go have fun, make some friends and let’s make sure to win this!”

-----------

Angelo and Leon are from our friend @newellthedragon

The lovely Gemini twins are from the always remarkable @tangledinink

[heartbreak-sandwich]

Unexpected Talents: Stranger Things Boys Edition ✨

Argyle: He has an amazing talent for visualization. He's always helping Joyce pick out colors for paint, curtains, rugs, and trim. He can design any room or space with whatever you happen to have on hand, and he will maximize its potential while creating a classy atmosphere that you didn't even know was possible with the items you provided. He really knows how to create a vibe and is a true interior decorator. He brings a spark of California luxury to every place he designs, and he is always asking Jonathan for advice on personal touches he can add as a nice surprise for his clients.

Billy Hargrove: It's no secret that Billy is absolutely obsessed with his appearance and doesn't care what anyone thinks when it comes to experimenting with looks. He is a fashion master. He's great a creating an outfit and pairing pieces for the perfect aesthetic. He knows how to use a sewing machine, repair and modify clothing, and he's always gifting everyone clothes and accessories and warning them not to make too big of a deal about it because it was "just something he happened to notice," but he's always obviously excited when he sees his friends arrive in one of his creations or gifts.

Eddie Munson: Spending much of his time alone and enduring many late nights after playing with his band, Eddie has learned to be a chef of epic proportions. He values the taste of good food, and he is well acquainted with his kitchen. He can grill, fry, bake, and make just about anything from scratch, including some extremely complex and tedious recipes. He is always presenting the group with homemade desserts and insisting that everyone join together for Sunday dinner, which he, of course, makes himself. He is always insisting that Argyle and Jonathan show up early to help him set the table and choose the right colors and dishes to compliment his meal presentation.

Jonathan Byers: Jonathan is quieter than most in the group, but we also know that's because of how observant he is. He remembers everyone's favorite color, food, song, and activity. He is the best party planner anyone has ever known. Everything he incorporates into the events, whether they be a surprise birthday party, an anniversary party, or a holiday celebration is uniquely personal and thoughtful. Everyone is always asking him to be the brains behind these operations, and every Byers event is captured in the sweetest photos that Jonathan gives away to the partygoers as gifts.

Steve Harrington: It started with a houseplant Robin was going to throw away. Steve decided on a whim to take it home and see if there was anything he could do for it. After a little bit of research and some basic chemistry advice from Dustin, he concocted the perfect fertilizer recipe and realized he had quite the green thumb. He now has a beautiful garden that completely covers the spare areas of his yard, and he spends his time growing fresh vegetables for Eddie's meal experiments and gorgeous seasonal flowers for Jonathan and Argyle to use in decorations. You can almost always find all of his friends with a fresh flower in their hair or pinned to their collars.

***I am SUPER in my feelings after making this. I love these dudes so much, and continuing them on as people makes me so happy. I hope you liked these, and feel free to add or request more if you'd like!!

[ni-kol-koru]

8, 14, 23

For either of the Miyajis. Or both ;)

Ohhh, love this one! Thank you so much for sending the numbers! Of course, I will do both of them! To visually separate the post I will use the orange heart for Kiyoshi 🧡 and the yellow heart for Yuuya 💛

8. What's something that the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise?

Kiyoshi 🧡 :

Of course it has to be the fandom's need to exaggerate Kiyoshi's bad temper and tendencies to say some foul things. My man has a bad temper, yes, but the fandom is acting like he can't chill, like everything pisses him off all the time and that just makes him look like a terrible person. We've seen him relaxed when he was walking with Taisuke after the exams that day. We know he is actually pretty generous and kind, he literally gave his personal items to Shintaro because they were his lucky items. We heard how genuine and sweet he can be when he finds Shintaro and Kazunari fooling around with the piano (from the special CD). People act like he is just angry all the time and ignore his better sides and all of his other qualities, hobbies and personality traits. He is just a little moody and irritable, like all of us are sometimes. He is just a human, he experiences ups and he experiences downs, he has good and he has bad days. His foul language also has nothing to do with his actions! Has he ever thrown a pineapple on someone's head? Has he ever buried, fried, ran someone over with Shinsuke's pick up truck? I don't think so. The worst he's done was smack the back of Shintaro's head to help him regain his composure. He's all bark, no bite and I will say that a million times if I have to!

Yuuya 💛 :

People usually ignore his existence, which I obviously don't like. When they don't, which is rare, they tend to do the same thing they do to his brother. They make him out to be nothing but an angry, violent man, which I might dislike even more! Just because his brother is a little moody and irritable doesn't mean that Yuuya is, too! We've seen him throw a basketball on Kazunari's head with the signature 'I will kick you' and people decided to base his personality off that one moment. There isn't much about him, but we do know a few interesting things that his personality could be based off. We know he has a picture of Tae-Chan on his phone (which is pretty cute and wholesome if you ask me), that he becomes the captain of the Shutoku Basketball Club (which is a pretty big achievement), that his eyes are same as his brothers, that he is a Taurus (a sign that's known for being very stubborn and hard-working but also very sweet, genuine, family-oriented and honest) and that he got angry when someone humiliated his big brother on National TV (I would be pissed, too). All of that, and people choose to take the one characteristic they already took for his brother and exaggerate it. I just really wish people didn't do that.

14. Assign a fashion aesthetic to this character?

Kiyoshi 🧡 : I always thought Kiyoshi's hair looked really soft and fluffy and I would like to believe that it's something he would also love to achieve with his fashion. I think he would prefer style to comfort and that he would wear something rather classy as well. So, he would likely wear a vest and a shirt, some comfortable dress pants and dress shoes. When he's feeling cozy and comfortable he would wear a shirt underneath a stylish sweater with baggy jeans and with some comfortable sneakers, or dress shoes yet again. What would make him achieve the soft look would be pastel colors! So, imagine all of that in beige, baby blue, light orange, pink, lavender... He wouldn't add any unnecessary accessories, as he believes that keeping it simple is the best way to make a good outfit. He would not look for any attention with his fashion, and this is something that looks average enough, but still fashionable and stylish! I am not sure what that fashion aesthetic is called, but my Pinterest research says it's something like soft-boy and light academia!

Yuuya 💛 :

His hair suggests that he likes to look a little sharper and a little more dangerous than an average person. I can see him wear something rather punk and emo, something that would make him look a little unapproachable and a little scary. With that said, he would mostly wear darker and non-saturated colors, as well as rough textures like leather or denim! Considering we've seen him wear a skirt, I wouldn't be surprised if he was comfortable with wearing feminine clothes or even makeup. Jackets, vests, crop-tops, band t-shirts, baggy or tight, low-rise pants, skirts, shorts, baggy pants and ripped versions of all those items would make up 99% of his wardrobe. I can also see him adding lots of interesting accessories like rings, belts, chains, necklaces, earrings! He would absolutely kill the style if he had some extra ear or face piercings and wore something like a smeared black eyeliner! Not sure what this aesthetic is called yet again, but I hope you got the idea of what I meant!

23. Favorite picture of this character?

Picking only one is tough, so I will make categories yet again! Unfortunately, Yuuya doesn't have a lot of screenshots and almost no appearances in the Replace Plus novels, games, CDs and the movie... Still, I included everything I could find!

Kiyoshi 🧡 :

Anime screencap:

Manga panel (half of the page):

'See you next week!' card:

Replace Plus novel panel:

Cross Colors picture:

Yuuya 💛 : Anime screenshot:

Manga panel:

BONUS Replace Plus novel panel:

[eepuniverse]

Hexel's World Tour Week 6 – Seoul

Everyone, I'm home. I know it sounds so cliche, but the moment I got off the plane in Seoul, I felt like I was coming home🇰🇷❤️. I already knew I could speak Korean, so getting through the airport and to the main city was a breeze (but can we talk about Incheon airport? It is so cool. I could literally spend a whole day at just the airport). I quickly got to my hotel in the middle of Seoul and it is way too nice. I feel like an imposter staying here hahaha.

There are some parts of the city that feel so familiar to me, even though I can't fully remember them. One day, I ended up just walking instinctively to this hole-in-the-wall kalgooksu restaurant and had the best noodle soup ever! 🍜(or I think it's the best I've ever had. It also felt so familiar!) Another place that felt super familiar was Dongdaemun and the Design Plaza. It kind of looks like a spaceship, but I knew exactly where to exit the subway station to get there. It was like instinct. The markets in Dongdaemun are so nice! They have so much fashion and accessories 👗 it was all so overwhelming. But I was able to buy gifts for Georgia while I was there

Talking about cool shops, I just wandered around Insadong for like half a day. There are so many side streets with cafes and small shops that you wouldn't even know were there unless you went to explore. From Insadong, I ended up walking to Bukchon traditional village. Both Insadong and Bukchon are known for their traditional hanok houses. And you all, I could LIVE in one of these. They're so beautiful and smell amazing like wood and paper! I found a place in one of these hanok houses called Aromind which lets you design your own perfume scent! It was so cool and I made one for Krista (hope she likes it!) 🎁

I also wrote down all the food places I loved to go with Dustin if we ever come to Seoul together, including this place that does bbq ribs DIPPED 🍖🧀 in melted cheese and a jjajangmyeon place that handrolls their noodles! I wanted to get Dustin a whole package of Hanwoo--prime Korean BBQ beef (did you know you could buy those?!)--but I was worried about getting it through customs, also, it was a lot to ship back to the US. So I got Dustin some green tea from Ossulloc 🍵, I know it's not technically food, but it's food adjacent! And their tea house in Gwanhun-Dong was so gorgeous with all the traditional ceramics and the little displays about how the teas are roasted! Plus, they're right by Jogyesa Buddhist Temple. They told me Jogyesa is the chief temple of the Jogye Order of Korean Buddhism. The building dates back to the late 14th century! And you can write your wish on a piece of paper and hang it like a little flag. All the wishes fluttering in the air were so beautiful!

I didn't mean to organize my tour around Seoul based on buying the perfect gifts for my friends, but it turned out that way. So I knew I had to find something amazing for Mac, and I did in Gangnam! That neighborhood kind of reminds me of midtown New York with all the skyscrapers and the fancy hotels and buildings. They have the flagship store to this amazing sunglasses store called Gentle Monster. But they don't just sell sunglasses, they also have amazing art displays that the store clerk told me rotates regularly! In fact, lots of the cool high fashion stores do fun artsy displays in Seoul! From there, I just popped over to Lotte World Tower and bought ALL the duty free skincare! I can't wait to try all my facemasks with the band! Apparently Lotte World Tower is the tallest building in South Korea. And they even have an aquarium in there!

[thvshusband]

bubba sawyer sfw alphabet ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

a/n: sorry it took so long to post, i’ve been experiencing writers block and was visiting family. i’m getting back to writing :))

————————-————————-———————

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

bubba definitely finds your face very attractive! your legs, especially your thighs, are also a personal favorite of his! you find his stomach and his hands very attractive.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

he definitely wants a family, having a family is all he’s ever known. growing up, his job was to provide for his loved ones so he can’t imagine anything else.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

she usually is the big spoon, she just wants to make you feel safe. she is a big teddy bear when it comes to cuddling.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

you guys can’t really go on dates often, but when you’re both able to picking flowers, flicking through fashion magazines, or dancing along to songs on the radio are popular date ideas.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)

you are my world.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

he knew he was in love when he first laid eyes on you. at that point, bubba knew he had to make you his and protect you.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

she is so gentle, she’s too afraid to lose you. she wants to show you how much she loves and cares about you. if she accidentally hurts you physically or hurts your feelings in some way, she’ll show much remorse and make it up to you- she doesn’t want you to leave her.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

they intertwine their fingers with yours and caress your hand with their thumb.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

when he first saw you he thought you were so pretty. when you were kind and gentle to him, he was surprised since nobody has treated him so nice before.

J = Jealous

she gets jealous easily. if she sees you talking to a customer at drayton’s barbecue a certain way that makes it seem like you like them, she babbles very nervously. and you can tell she gets insecure because of how their brothers treat her, she doesn’t feel like she’s good enough, so she’ll need some reassurance.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

she kisses very passionately. even though bubba had no experience before you, she tried her best to be as loving as she could. she kissed you first :)

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

you said i love you first. it just happen to slip out while you were saying goodnight to them. when they heard you say it, they gurgled something back that sounded like a reciprocated confession.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

your first date with bubba. he had blindfolded you and led you towards you his favorite area of the farm- the dirt clearing in front the beautiful and radiant sunflower field. he puts down the radio down near the both of you and turns it on. he takes off the blindfold and starts dancing with you.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

bubba always spoils you. she can’t buy anything, but she will ask drayton to get you things. she will also craft gifts from things she found around the house and the field. if she saw something she thinks you would like on a victim, once they’re dead, she’ll wash it off and give it to you.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

pink, white, and pastel yellow reminds him of your love, like two high schoolers, infatuated with each other.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

pretty girl, baby, sweetie/sweetheart, and love are his personal favorites when it comes to calling you loving names.

Q = Quaint (What is their favorite non-modern thing?)

the dining table; it’s old, grandpa made it when he was a teen.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

she loves making doll clothes and accessories for your doll collection and cuddling with you.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

they cheer you up by making you clothes and giving you flowers. preparing food for you is another way they try to make you feel better and it’s also how they try to make themselves feel better, too. cuddling with you makes the both of you feel a lot better.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

he loves talking about his day, Chicken (his pet rooster), you, flowers, and makeup.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

a nice nap or cuddling session helps him unwind with you, looking at magazines and doing your makeup helps him feel a lot less tense.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

she’s very proud of you and shows you off all the time. she can’t believe someone as attractive as you loves someone like her (even though you insist that she’s the most beautiful person you’ve met, it’s hard for her to believe you due to what she grew up hearing from his older brothers).

W = Wedding (When, how?)

you guys got married about a year after you first met. one day, they asked you to cover your eyes. when you were told to open them, they were on their knees with a diamond ring that they took off the ring finger of a victim. you accepted happily and three weeks later you guys had your wedding in front of the sunflower field. you wore bubba’s mom’s wedding dress from fifty years before. it was. a beautiful antique gown with a high lace neckline, lace covering your arms and the top of your cleavage. the test of the gown was big and puffed out at the waist, ivory in color. bubba wore their least dirty suit and blue tie. when they saw you walking down the makeshift aisle, arm in arm with drayton, they tried their best not to cry with happiness. they were finally truly happy with someone.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

starman by david bowie, his favorite song by his role model.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

yes, they always think of being committed to you. it’s something she’s always wanted-

someone to love and someone who truly loves her, even though she always thought it would never happen.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

they already have a pet chicken, but they’ve always wanted a rabbit, and they would name is bubbles :3

[ddymarie]

1:25 am

"When met you in that hotel room I could tell that you were so bad news"

Waring: smut, oral sex ( m Receiving) interrupted sex

An: second chapter!!!

---------------------------------------------

September 12th

Location: Hero Gala

I exited the car to be unwelcomingly greeted with flashes from cameras and phones, screams from fans , photographers and reporters.

" H/n Look over here! "

" look at little to the left... Perfect "

" are you having an affair with shindou?"

" arch you back further more out "

" how would you describe working with the former no. 1 hero endeavour "

" do you plan on taking any interns? "

" H/N "

I swear I'm gonna go deaf from all the noise. Trying my best to walk up the carpet to the stairs.

I wore an elegant black dress with chunky diamonds on my cleaveage that pushed my boobs up, tight enough to squeeze my figure making it known. The dressed shaped me nicely highlighting my abs and ass. I was accessoried with black sparkley gloves that were covered with millions of dollars worth of diamond bracelets all up my arm. Diamonds of all sizes. I wore a black 6 inch heel the underside being the a glittered black bottom with a dark red hue. I looked back once more with a closed eye smile. After that my vision was filled with nothing but white.

I turned back around carefully walking up the carpet covered stairs with one side of my dress in my hand as I held onto the railing. As I made it up the stairs unaware of a certain pair of Ruby eyes on me. I stopped and looked in the direction where my hero name came from.

It was a young blonded hair reporter wearing a red silky materialed dress.

" n/n, hello there im Victoria, I'm a reporter here on my internship. " she spoke up

" hello, " I looked at her before glancing at the camera while sipping my champagne I was handed.

" do you think... I- I can um, interview you? " she asked shyly

" oh, sure no problem I have time " I responded politely.

Her smile brightened

" how would you describe the transition from being a student to a hero? "

" well, it was pretty easy as a student I already felt like I was a pro hero. But um mentally I guess that means I was prepared. I was trained for this in U.A. they trained us heavier than we needed to be so everything was easy going for me. "

"As a intern I still feel nervous even talking to you. But any words to help encourage that mindset? " she asked

" yea mostly, stay ambitious , be competitive, always do your best, show out. But most importantly Breatheee.Also brand yourself. It'll definitely help with that big transition " I replied

" okay, favorite thing about your quirk ? " she looked curiously at me

" I glow after using it " I answer while shaping my face in a posing matter

" slay~, you look sexy as hell tonight what do you have on" she asked eyeing me up and down with a pleasant smile

" the dress is innovation of storenvy's black mermaid dress , the diamond on my cleaveage area was to highlight the dresses shape which is why it's curved in a little more in the center. The diamond decorated gloves were custome piece from Donatella Versaces ghetto fabulous collection. The shoes are from LV. Make up and body glitter done by the Mia jay herself " you beamed as you slid your hands down you slimmed waist where you curved .

" ahhh, I can't wait to get bigger,you are definitely an fashion icon this look will go down in history!! Now this hairr" she you looked hungry tryna get the deats on it

" yes the big look of tonight" you look up ( imagine this but more textured and longer like a fresh blow out)

" wow you look amazing but that's all I have tonight, good luck with your nominee's "

I thanked her before walking away heading towards my room mate and best friend alien queen/ mina ashido

While walking further into the building I looked around and made eye contact with a certain hero..

Dynamite...

Walking past him I awkwardly smiled and waved

I apporched mina and we both got to complimenting and gossiping. A few minutes later the lights dimmed 3 times alerting us that the award ceremony was about to start. So I headed next to my table which I was accompanied by Momo and Mina

" WELCOME ALL " shouted the man himself...

PRESENT MIC

" tonight will be a night to remember not just because of fashion"

*the camera panned to my table facing me and my girls *

" -but because of the nominations! " HE SHOUTED

*everyone cheered*

" now for our first nominee of tonight"* he opens and envelope*

" for the most influential hero... Congratulations Deku! " he announced

I saw Midoriya get up from his seat and accept his reward

" thank you so much this means a lot. " he started and continued on

About 5 minutes passes by when you get an reward.

" and for our next nominee of popularity.. Issss H/N! " the crowd roared as you got up trying not to trip, once you get to the stairs you pause tho looking around.

I need help up the stairs...

Denki aids you up the stairs

The crowd stared in awe

You held his arm as he guided you to the microphone

You whispered a thank you

"Oh, shit- oop. Oh my god. Um I don't know what to say. I'm impressed and thankful. I was a nominee alongside the top 3 and won, holy. This unbelievable. I'm also the first female hero to receive this award... " you said your final thanks and headed off stage

An hour or two passes when you are finally released with 3 trophies in your hand

I walk to the red carpet to take my final pictures and walk back to my Limosouine, just before the door is opened pro hero dynamite had approached me . He and I both chatted it up some and he asked for my which I gave to him, then entered the fancy car and head back to your hotel where you carefully got undressed and took off the wig

Only to be met with an text from who you now address as katsuki.

Katuski: we're in the same hotel right?

You:yeah, why?

Katuski: my manger left, come over

And just with that you exited your room in pj's room 306....305....304...303! You knocked on the door and right then and there both of your lips crashed into each other. Devouring each other, tongues battling for dominance.

Closing the door behind him with his foot he carries you to his bed sitting down with you on his lap. Hands reaching the hems on your shirt as you take it off . Taking your bra off. He's taking his tank top off along with his shorts. You do the same. You pull away from the kiss so you both could catch your breathes

" shit, I think we should slow down-" he started " shh, " you interrupted.

You climb off his lap putting your hair in a pony tail. You look up at him while in between his legs on your knees.

He nods " go ahead- " he started before he cut himself off with a groan. You had already gottten to work sucking his while massaging his ball sack. You moan at the stretch as you go down taking of only 5 inches in. He hit the back of your throat causing you to gag repeatedly. He pulled you off of him. Looking in his eyes with a smirk as you take him in again sloppily. His thick veiny dick covered in your saliva. You go down again licking his tip before sucking it in your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks as you go down further. His hands behind your head guiding you. Mouth shaping around his length as you deep throat him now with no problem. His moans are non stop and his groans are loud. Thrusting into your mouth at a steady and fast pace

" ah shit, ah~" he was about to cum

You remove your self from him and start stroking as you kiss him up and down his length while massaging his balls

" fuck" his eyes roll back at the sensation

Just then white squirted from his tip into you hair and forehead. Whiles he's Cumming you went from kissing his length to sucking his balls

He's stroking his own dick helping you help him ride his nut out. A few seconds later he's laided backwards on the bed as you clean your face scooping the access cum up with your fingers, before sitting over his wet length you look him in his eyes and lick your fingers and moan "more".

Climbing over him and lining him up with your entrance before sitting on him taking him in one go.

"Ohh~"

"Fuck- Y/n you are magical"

You began moving your hips In a Circle motion whining him. Realizing it wasnt doing much for you, you stood on your knees before bouncing on him driving him crazy

"Mmm~, you like tha-" you say only to be stopped by a knock at the door

Fuck!

You hurry off him wiping yourself down before pulling up your clothes back on. Katsuki does the dame

"Sir-" " I'M COMING DAMMIT! " he irrupted. Looking at you with sorry eyes

You didn't cum...

You hid in the closet by the door waiting for the person present to walk in. Just as they did you snuck out..

Damn near a week later and you haven't contacted him. Until..

On a Saturday night at 1:25 am 💋

Heyy yall

This is chapter 2 it's not a lot but I'm new here🤩🤩

This when they first ig "fuck"

Chapter 3 will be out later his week it's gonna be long starting from the ending of chapter 1

Feel free to send writing tips or small request 😗

[adrianasunderworld]

💕Gift for a Godmother💕

A valentines drabble of Crowley wanting to get Clara a present.

@mangacupcake @marrondrawsalot @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind

💝💝💝

The council was not very helpful. And by council he meant his ward and young cousin he had gone to for an opinion on what to buy for Valentine's Day.

Crowley sat on the living room floor of Ramshackle, his laptop open in front of him on the coffee table,several tabs open to various shopping websites. His coat and hat tossed aside on the nearby chair. He wishes he was better at gift giving. He had known Clara for years, getting her a gift should have been easier than this.

Dreary and Isabelle also sat on the floor, just as perplexed, eating the snacks he brought to bribe them into helping him.

“What about shoes?” Isabelle suggested through a mouth half filled with candy, “She always has the best shoes.”

“ Yes, but what kind?” That had been his first thought. “She buys every pair she wants from all her favorite brands. Everytime I peak at her wishlist it's seems to be after she's already bought them.”

“You mentioned she likes clothes,” Dreary said, “Maybe that? Or accessories, like a handbag.”

“Similar problem,” Dire said as he looked through the tabs of all her favorite shops. There was very few things Clara did not possess. If she didn't, it was not her style at all. He had known her long enough to tell her taste at a glance and somehow that made it all the more difficult to find something just right.

“What do you normally do for Valentine's anyways?” The prefect asked.

“A standard card, and flowers she likes,” Crowley replied, thinking of all the years past. They had been standard gifts, and he never forgot a year. “But I want to do something different this year, even if it's a small gift.”

“But why?” Dreary asked, leaning forward with her chin resting in her hands. Isabelle leaned forward as well. “What changed?”

Suddenly the Headmage felt coming to Ramshackle was a mistake as both girls looked at him expectantly for an answer. He cleared his throat and tried to play it off. “No reason. Just felt doing something different to show my appreciation for my fellow Headmage.”

“Uh huh. Now what's that real reason?” Isabelle replied, clearly not buying a word of it.

“It's ok, Dire. You can tell us.” Dreary said softly.

Crowley knew they would not leave him alone now. He could already picture them in his office pestering to tell. “I just… Want to make it special this year. Nothing big has happened to warrant it I suppose. I simply want to give her something she deserves for a change.”

“Translation: You like her and want to actually shoot your shot.” Isabelle said.

“Not how I would have put it, but in a manner of speaking, yes.”

Dreary seemed excited at this development. “That's sweet! I think this will go well.”

“Before you get your hopes up, I need a gift.”

“Ok well what does she like besides fashion?” Isabelle asked as she grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil. “You might be able to narrow it down more if you just make a list.”

“Besides clothing and shoes, she has one of the biggest sweet tooths I think I've ever seen. Especially for pumpkin flavored treats. Pie, coffee, you name it. It's one of the few things she refuses to share. She loves pastel colors. If it comes in a soft pink or blue, she'll take it everytime. Oh, she loves Romance movies and novels. She always insists she doesn't cry at them, but the happy endings always get to her-”

Dreary and Isabelle glanced at each other as Dire rambled on about Headmage Cristalería.

“-and don't even get me started on her and the autumn time-”

“Dire!” Dreary interrupted. “What about hobbies?”

“Hm? Oh she absolutely adores miniatures.”

“Miniatures?” Isabelle asked. “Like dollhouse stuff?”

“Yes, she's always found them cute. But she likes making and getting them for her mice and the pixies of White Ash to enjoy. She also adores her mice. She's told me she's looked after the mice in the school since she was a child, they mean a great deal to her.” As he said it, Dire finally had an idea. “Wait a minute.”

“What?” Dreary leaned over to see what he was looking up and smiled approvingly. “These are adorable.”

Isabelle peeked as well at the screen to look at the online store Dire was scrolling through. “Aw. She'll like these.”

“I hope so.”

***

“Good morning, Prudence.” Clara greeted her assistant as she walked into the main office of the school.

“Good morning, Headmage.” The woman replied with a nod of her head.

“Anything of note this morning?”

“No, but a delivery came for you shortly after I came in. I left it on your desk.”

“Delivery?” Clara asked, trying to think of what it could it could be. “I wasn't expecting any deliveries.”

“It's seems to be a gift, ma'am. The tag said it was from Mr. Crowley of Night Raven.”

“Ah, I see. I'll take a look at it now. Thank you Prudence.” Clara opened the door to her office and was immediately greeted to the sight of a bouquet of white and pink roses in a glass vase on her desk.

She smiled at the sight as she admired the flowers, picking out the card that was addressed to her from it.

Then she noticed the two small boxes as well. One of the mice that was always sniffing around her office seemed rather interested in the smaller box. Opening it, she noticed it had the logo of a bakery she regularly went to, so she was delighted to see it full of her favorite pumpkin cookies inside. She was already thinking of how they would taste with her morning coffee. Before she got ahead of herself, she opened the slightly larger box. In it was a miniature open carriage. Pink with all the intricate little details molded onto the side painted in silver, it's little seats made with a soft white material. Clara thought it was adorable with all its little details. She set it down, the mouse scurried over to it to investigate. Crawling in, the little seat was just the right size for the little creature.

“Is that comfortable, Augusta?” Clara asked as she reached over to pet her.

Augusta the mouse squeaked in approval.

The fae woman chuckle to herself a bit before finally opening the card.

I hope you enjoy these gifts. I wanted you to have something special this year, simply because you deserve it. Happy Valentine's - Dire Crowley

Clara smiled. As obnoxious as Dire was, he knew when to be sweet. She picked up her phone as she sat in her chair, looking at Augusta the mouse drift off to sleep in the tiny carriage.

“Good morning, Clara.”

“Hello, Dire. I just got your gifts.”

“I hope you liked them.”

“I did, I wanted to call and thank you. They're very sweet.”

“I'm glad. Clara, now that I have you on the phone, I hope you'll let me treat you to dinner as well tonight if you're not busy.”

The corner of her lips curled up into a smile. “I'd like that, Dire.”

[bulldog-geckorahhhhh]

Okiii, I was sorta curious about what other OC interactions we could do besides of Herman and Al (I love em tho <3). This is also a mini excuse for me to infodump about my OCs but still XD (Also I've already shown Sis and Herman to you so I thought I'd share the others)

ALRIGHTY FIRST ONE UP ISSSS: Sister Vanessa

Unlike Sister Sis, Vanessa's more of the energetic and sassy one in the church. She loves roses (As seen where she accessories with them), as well as fashion and messing around with Father gregor (He often disapproves of her). Sis has a HUGE crush on her

Some Facts:

Her HC voice actress is Kathleen Delaney, the voice of Rouge the Bat in Sonic X

A HUGE fanfic writer, she's trying to recreate the bible in her version

She just screams y2k energy, idk XD

Now we have Dylan! One of the first SM OCs I ever had plans for. (His ref sheet's being redesigned, so that's why it's incomplete).

Upbeat and cheerful, this chubby donut-loving cop always tries his best to help others. While he may be clumsy, forgetful, and maybe not the most skilled cop in the police force, he's a good friend who's always trying his best!

Some bonus facts:

As the ref sheet shows, he's Patty's older brother! His :3 face was made to contrast with his sister's owl lip

Also his HC voice actor his Jack Mcbrayer (HIS ENERGY AND ACCENT FITS HIM SO WELL THOOOO)

He's known Jack since high school! They're good friends <:)

Somewhat aware of the cult... (Let's just say his aunt nearly sacrificed him when he was a kid-)

Actually shipped with Ignacio sometimes! (They're shipname is BurntDonuts)

And lastly, we have the Cat Burglar!

A sleek, sly, and elusive criminal with a love for stealing jewels, gems, basically anything shiny, as well as cats! Like Fat Thief and Thin Thief, they work for the cult, although they're more involved with it due to a certain ritual...

Facts!!

HC voice actor is Jacob Tobia (Double Trouble from She-Ra)

Developed "Cat-Like quirks" after the ritual occurred. Such as hissing/meowing as a vocal stim, having seafood cravings, being lazy like a cat, hating the rain, etc

Rather dramatic sometimes, they love watching musicals XD (They're actually inspired by Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer from the Cats Musical!)

Either ways that's all, I have a couple more SM OCs, but these are considered my main ones (Along with Sis and Herman) XD

OOOOH OOOH OHHHH I LOVE THEM ALL! Throwing a character of mine at each of them

Throwing Livia at Sister Vanessa. Liv has a history of bothering nuns! I can imagine Vanessa met a struggling pigeon caught in something outside the church. And getting nearly jumped by Liv who thought she was hurting the bird- they fight but after that Liv won’t stop showing up. (they’re a member of the cult. So maybe they’re watching the church too)

For Dylan, I of course first think of August! Where there’s a cop there’s an August! They probably love hanging around him, cause he’s nicer and easier to yap to than John (and even Jack some times).

And the Cat burglar, I’m throwing Tori! She probably LOVES watching them and narrating their acts. She prob annoys the shit out of them- she floats behind them while they steal something. They swat at her but she disappears like the Cheshire Cat and laughs.