#quick ask prompts

[haesunflower]

if requests are open: reader doing zb1's (specifically ricky's) makeup thankss

RICKY AND Y/N DO A 1 MIN MAKEUP CHALLENGE ON TIKTOK

“baby, hold still” you whine. Ricky opens his eyes and mischievously flashes a grin at you.

“you’re gonna lose y/n” he taunts. With seconds left on the clock, you opt to skip the eyeliner completely. Picking up a berry shade lipstick and hastily applying it to the center of his lips.

“All done!” You yell to the camera, putting your hands in the air.

Ricky catches you off guard and grabs your jaw to plant kisses all over your face, leaving kiss marks on your cheek. “Now we’re done” he says to the camera before continuing to kiss you, this time on the lips.

[clownmitts]

could you draw Momo and Okarun slepping together?

I don't think Okarun will be sleeping too much until he gets used to it

[alistair-blackwood]

It's interesting how Laios struggles to remember Kabru's name right away, yet is able to recall the feeling of his grip well enough to immediately understand that something isn't right (Kabru being cuffed)

[fidgetspringer-art]

👀👀👀👀 I suggest bootblacking as a kink for the boys

Coming right up

[itsnotmourn]

SPOOKY MONTH OC INTERVIEW MEME

this is intended to be "in-character"; you answer as if you are your character OR like a story/narrative! you don't have to though. send a number to the user/reblogger (if they ask for it) for them to answer the question!

you might notice that there are alternative questions under the same number. you can choose one that suits your character OR answer both if it applies!

there are also questions that are for certain characters, so be sure to mention if your character is non-human or cultist, etc.! it is also up to you whether your OC is answering honestly or not! ;]

for any clarification, please see the "read more"!

GENERAL

1. Who are you? Describe yourself in a few words!

2. Where did you come from? Were you born in this town or did you move here, etc.?

3. How’s your family? If they’re still around, what relationship do you have with them?

4. Do you celebrate “Spooky Month”? If you do, what is your costume?

5. What's your favourite type of candy?

6. Who are your friends in this town? (other spooky month oc's can be included!)

7. Are you dating anyone right now? If not, are you interested in a partner later in life?

8. Do you work? If so, what/where do you work as, and is that your dream job? (IF OC IS A CHILD) What do you want to be when you are older?

9. Has two certain kids ever caused you trouble? Or are they friendly to you? I think they call themselves Skid and Pump.

10. Pick 1–3 different characters from this generator. If you know of them, what are your thoughts on them?

11. What is your opinion on the town's current mayor, Narciso Evermore?

12. What is your opinion on the overall police force? Reliable? Reckless?

13. The town is a bit dangerous from time to time. Can you fight? Can you protect yourself? Are you willing to kill?

14. What is your opinion on monsters/the supernatural? (IF OC IS NONHUMAN) What is your opinion on humans?

15. Do you know of (or have seen) the group of people who wear red robes? Any thoughts on them?

16. Have you seen the two big stars in the sky? It’s pretty cool, huh?

IF OC IS A CULTIST:

17. Can you share with us why did you join this group?

18. Since joining this group, what is your view on the towns(people)?

19. How involved are you in this group? Do you do anything, or do you seek recruits or are willing to... work behind the scenes, etc.?

20. How loyal would you say you are to your leader/The Eyes?

- - - - - -

Because this is like an interview, the questions are written rather vaguely with implications, so it's up to you to write as of your OC notices the implications or not.

Here is some explanations to help you answer!

For 10, some monster characters are included because while your character might not KNOW them, they might have SEEN or HEARD of them... heh

For 11, this is more about Evermore as a Mayor rather than a person; however you can interpret it as however you want!

For 15, the red robes is referring to the cult/cultists.

For 16, this just depends if your OC just sees it as regular stars, or knows it as The Eyes, or something like that.

For 19, "work behind the scenes" implies if your character would get their hands dirty AKA hurt others for the cult... like Ignacio! Or the group of cultists that targeted Father Gregor!

For 17–20, I say "group "because not all cults consider themselves as cults but rather another church or religious group, and cult members don't recognise they are in a cult either. WE know it's a cult; the characters (unless they are journalists or knows people in it) may not ;]

[phoenixcatch7]

It's always funny to me when in an lu fic the chain is offered bananas and don't accept them. Like, you're offering these high energy adventures free food?? Fruit they'll have never even heard of before??? A ridiculously expensive imported good at best?? AND it boosts your attack?

Not ONE of these idiots would ever turn down something new and interesting to eat at least once. They'd be all over those bananas and immediately get dubbed yiga and I'm honestly surprised no one has used it in a fic yet 🤭

[oddsconvert]

I LOVE Henley's "broken" fic!!

Now all I can think about is Henley having a little existential crisis. He realizes that he's completely alone in the world. Izaak tried to get rid of him, Ronan is bored with him, no one ever came to rescue him. He starts spiraling and eventually convinces himself that there is no one left that really cares about him😭

I live for Henley whump😈

THANK YOU, THANK YOUUU - IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED!!! (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) I had so much fun writing it!

(and also, this ask 🤌🤌🤌 you've inspired me AGAIN, SO TA-DA, MORE HENLEY WHUMP! 🙌)

-

cw:// pet whump, dehumanisation, broken/submissive whumpee, noncon drugging, whumper turned whumpee, physical & emotional abuse, power imbalance, whumpee desperate for Whumpee's affection (lemme know if I missed any!)

-

Henley sat curled up in his corner of the basement, arms hugging his knees tight to his pounding chest. Green-eyed jealousy burned behind his eyes as he watched Ronan cradle Izaak in his lap like an innocent newborn - brushing a tender hand over his flushed cheek, cooing down at him.

Even when drugged to the edge of oblivion just to keep him docile, Izaak still got to be adored, whilst Henley was left ignored.

It’s not fair.

Henley bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted copper, his fingernails already chewed down to the quick. Izaak didn’t even have to try. Henley had to grovel for scraps, beg for mercy, claw for the smallest hint of affection. Even when Izaak screamed and misbehaved, when he spat and bit back - he was still wanted.

No matter how hard Henley tried to be good. Tried to be quiet - made himself so small, seen and not heard, playing by every rule in Ronan’s book.

All he’d become was invisible. Was there any space left for him at all? Did the world even want him anymore?

Izaak had tried to get rid of him - tossed him aside like rotting fruit, too bruised to be worth keeping. And now Ronan had grown bored too. These days, he barely spared Henley a glance, unless it was to snap an order or kick him out of the way.

Desperate, needing something - anything - Henley crawled forward on shaking limbs and tried to nestle into Ronan’s leg, trying to feel the warmth of a touch that wasn’t cruel.

But before he could settle, Ronan snapped, smacking Henley down to the floor.

“Down! Bad boy, Henley!” Ronan roared with a sharpness that struck deeper than any whip. Henley cowered into himself, a whimper escaping his lips.

He dropped where he was, spine bowed, hands splayed against the cold stone floor. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Awaited further instruction…or reprimand.

“You wait your turn! Naughty mutt,” Ronan spat, returning his attention to his prized possession, stroking the hair away from Izaak's vacant face.

Henley froze where he was, shame curdling in his chest, and for a moment he swore he could feel the world collapsing in on him.

If he didn't have Ronan…he truly had no-one. Nothing. Nowhere. No name that meant anything to anyone. No face anyone’s missing. No place he could crawl back to, even if he were to crawl out of this hell.

Ronan was his last thread, and now that thread was fraying.

Henley wasn’t strong enough to fight. Not clever enough to escape. Not sweet enough to be loved anymore. He wasn’t Izaak, with his fire and his pretty little bruises that Ronan still cared to kiss.

If Ronan had left Henley to starve, fine. If he'd snapped his neck like a twig, fine. But this? Not even second-best, but just a fallback? A reserve? A hindrance? This slow unravelling; knowing he's unwanted and still being forced to stay - was somehow worse.

Henley didn’t belong anywhere. No-one wanted him. Not a soul cared about him. And if that’s the case… What's the point in surviving at all?

[petvampire]

Jerejean and the necklace 👀 you just know it’s bouncing around when they’re-

ohmygod YESSSSSS.

~

He can’t help but pay attention to it - the glint of silver catching the light. Renee’s cross, the one Jean always wears without fail, its original chain broken and replaced with a sturdier one. It falls two inches or so below the line of his collarbone, usually, far enough down to be tucked beneath a shirt collar, or hidden under his gear.

It’s very obvious now without anything in the way of it, the pendant swinging against Jean’s chest with every movement of his hips, every arch of his back. The Frenchman is currently preoccupied with riding Jeremy for everything he’s worth, and yet he can’t stop staring at the damn necklace while his boyfriend is bouncing on his dick. It’s so absurd, it almost drags a laugh out of him, one that turns into a groan as Jean grinds his hips down against him in a movement that makes Jeremy see stars.

Part of him wonders if he should feel some lingering spark of jealousy that Jean still wears the necklace, a piece of Renee always with him. Part of him wonders if he can give the other something that he’ll hang onto with equal care, wonders what he would choose.

Most of him, though, is just fixated on how perfect the pendant looks against Jean’s skin, how every movement of it emphasizes the elegant sweep of his neck and collarbones, the lean muscle of his chest and shoulders. It’s just a focal point that helps drive home how gorgeous the other is, as if Jeremy didn’t already know.

Renee would probably enjoy the sight, he thinks with an impish grin, reaching up to drag Jean into a kiss. Maybe he’ll snap a photo for her, next time.

[rosy-crow]

🍽 for Sephiroth!

AAAA HI THANK YOU THIS MAKES ME SO HAPPY

🍽 - A special treat of their choice

Writing Prompt

It was the first time Sephiroth visited Angeal’s room in the SOLDIER barracks, a living system arranged to meet the basic needs of those in the elite division located just below the SOLDIER floor, that he saw just how alive and bright the space one slept in could be. It was as if Angeal had cut away a slice of fertile earth and placed it inside his room, blessing it with greenery and vibrance comparable to a botanical garden.

The living quarters had photos pinned and hung on the walls with clips, plant pots decorating the window sill at the far end or lining the kitchenette counters, and little golden lightbulbs on strings dangling over everything, lighting up the scene. Additionally there were two bunkbeds, a vintage desk, and an obviously thrifted dinner table made of old oak in the center of the room. Every string bulb and drooping ornament tinkled when the wind from the open city-view window breathed into the otherwise still place.

Angeal had made a barren, base necessity into a home. And it was beautiful.

Sephiroth tentatively moved into the foreign world, looking around like a child in a candy store, eyes wide with reverence, admiration, even anxiety. He was so lost, but so found.

”Here we go,” Angeal said with a grin, gesturing to the table where a number of coupons, flyers, and menus that the young man had proudly collected lay in neat alignments. “We can go anywhere you want. I have coupons for takeout, a few steakhouses, some really good lunch bars, old diners…some decent 24/7 breakfast joints…”

Angeal began to name some of his favorite restaurants in Midgar. Of course Genesis had discovered many of them, but Angeal had done the work of documenting and reviewing each one, determined to know the city’s food culture inside and out. Sephiroth listened with a soft smile, but curiously and to his own dismay, he felt a lack of interest even as Angeal listed off the reasons to explore each one. Perhaps Sephiroth simply wasn’t hungry….but no, that wasn’t true.

”So yeah, I know we don’t know your birthday exactly, but I think tonight would work just fine. We’re off duty and I know Gen wants to go out on the city,” Angeal went on. “You still haven’t been out there much, right? We gotta get you outside. You’re so pale and you need some good food. The Shinra rations aren’t it. You obviously could do with some more genuine substance and—“

”Angeal….”

Sephiroth interrupted as if waking from a fever dream, his thoughts finally coherent. Angeal was surprised, but nodded at once.

”What’s wrong?”

”I….” Sephiroth shifted to lean against the wall. He folded his arms and looked back at the flyers and coupons. “I appreciate this gesture, but I would rather stay here….”

“Stay here? But Sephiroth, HQ is no place to stay in on a special day! Even the rec room isn’t all that interesting…and it’s crowded. The city would be a good adventure for you….” Angeal protested. But Sephiroth sighed and bowed his head.

”Well, it’s not so bad….in this room….and I would rather eat something you cook….,” Sephiroth admitted. He seemed a tad bashful. “Genesis said you’re good at it….”

Angeal looked touched. His smile returned with a bright energy that lit up the room twice as much and he glanced to his tiny kitchen space.

”Well, that I can do….if that’s what you really want….” Angeal said in a pleasant tone. It was his turn to be bashful. “What would you like me to make? You can choose anything. I’ll find a recipe. Even if it’s something with snails…I’ll try my best…”

Sephiroth chuckled with a hand covering his lips. He hummed for a moment and thought on the question. Anything. Anything he wanted. Something special….

A sweet, inexplicable memory of warm fragrance and orange lanterns strayed into his mind….turmeric, oregano, and nutmeg…a gentle golden color…

”It’s nothing too special…but I have an idea….” Sephiroth nearly whispered, his eyes blooming with nostalgia and hunger.

-

”Ok, try it and tell me what you think,” Angeal demanded as cheerily as could be. He set the steaming bowl of rich, creamy soup on the table in front of Sephiroth, who sat across from the leering fox of a teenager, Genesis. The latter smirked at the sight of Sephiroth’s pupils growing from narrow slits to tiny black UFOs in neon green skies. It was beautifully hilarious.

”Try not to drown in it, hero,” Genesis teased, resting his elbows on the table and leaning forward to watch as Sephiroth lifted his wooden spoon to try the soup. Angeal was practically biting his nails in anticipation.

Sephiroth eagerly took his first bite of the spiced warmth that he had harbored a long and unexplained craving for. As he tried it, he realized it was as cozy as Angeal’s room, and it carried a pleasant bubbling heat that soothed his chest and stomach as he began to garble down more and more. It was savory, yet sweet like honey at the same time.

So this was pumpkin. So this was good food. So this was joy, once again, discovered for the first time via another medium and delivered by the caring touch of dear companions at his side. Sephiroth suddenly stopped short after a minute, having inhaled the food, and brought his hands to his face to smother a fit of childish laughter he couldn’t contain.

”Is….it good….?” Angeal stood watching in bafflement, unsure of whether to join in or be unnerved by the odd reaction. Genesis was overanalyzing the moment with sharp eyes alone, saying nothing.

”My….” Sephiroth was a boy in that fragment of time. Giggling uncontrollably at a dinner table while surrounded by tender, amber light and the youthful faces of his friends. “My heart is beating so fast. It’s just funny…I ate too quickly, I think…it…”

Angeal was struck with a bolt of relief and Genesis scoffed off the same feeling of release.

Well, that was…endearing. Unexpected, but endearing.

”I’m glad you like it so much,” Angeal said and ruffled Sephiroth’s hair with the pride of a complimented cook. He grinned at the young hero. “Happy birthday, Seph. You can have as much as you want! I made some apple cake too. So save some room for that.”

”He does make the best apple cake,” Genesis admitted. He leant back in his chair and nodded to Sephiroth. “Happy birthday, my friend.”

”Thank you,” Sephiroth said once his laughing had waned and he was left flushed, starry-eyed, and afloat with serotonin. “But first…I’ll have ten more bowls of this….and I want to try the chicken with it…and the bread…and the salad….”

”Angeal, he’s going to end up in a coma…” Genesis sighed, palming his face with his usual dramatics.

”I don’t care as long as he gets some damn fat on those bones for once!” Angeal retorted. “I want him looking like my mom’s chunkiest barn cat by the end of tonight.”

This time they all laughed.

[haesunflower]

can i request some angst with a fluff ending for taerae?

TAERAE AND Y/N FIGHT AFTER A LONG AND EXHAUSTING DAY

“where the fuck have you been, y/n?” Taerae’s loud voice is the first thing you hear after waiting all night.

You don’t like how accusatory he sounds, so you don’t say a thing as you put your bag down and head to the bathroom to get cleaned up. You don’t have time to argue with him right now.

He trails you from behind, slamming the door in his face before he has the chance to say anything once more. He knocks hard, twice. Nothing. Knocks thrice and wiggles the doorknob. Nothing.

You’re a few minutes into your routine when you hear a soft knock on the door “baby, I’m sorry I raised my voice at you. can you let me in?” He coos gently, in his deep buttery voice.

You unlock the door for him, and he takes the whole scene in. If he wasn’t so mad, he would have noticed that you were drenched head to toe. Your wet clothes are in a puddle on the floor, and you’re drying your hair with a hand towel.

He picks up your clothes, “let me take care of this, I’ll be back” and quickly throws it in the machine. He comes back with a glass of water for you, and places it on the counter as he guides you to sit on the closed toilet seat.

He’s kneeling in front of you, hands holding yours when he says “I’m sorry I didn’t see your texts - I fell asleep when I got home from practice and my phone was dead. I should have checked it right away before yelling. I’m sorry.”

When you look into his glassy eyes you know he’s being sincere. “Yell at me again and I’ll cry Rae” you say in a soft voice, letting him know he hurt you.

“Okay baby, yell at me back now if you want” he tries to lighten the mood, arms extending out and closing his eyes as if to brace himself for your screams. You giggle at how silly he looks and pull him to stand up.

“An apology kiss will work just fine” you say before you snake your arms around his neck. He grips your hips tightly before planting a soft kiss on your lips. Then he whispers something right below your jaw:

“oh I have more than an apology kiss in store for you”.

a/n: genuinely why did I write 3 different genres in under 500 words???

[charmac]

any thoughts about charlie not going to prom? cause we get dees reasoning but not his.

Based on timing I'm assuming you sent the other ask right before this re Mac going to Prom so I will just muse on the concept of the Gang in high school and the idea of their prom here, if that's okay...

Something I think a lot of the Fandom ignores (or maybe doesn't remember or understand?) is that Mac, Charlie, and Dennis went to an all-boys Catholic school.

Mac and Charlie were losers in high school and basically only friends with each other for the majority of the time (and Dooley and Pete, but yk what I mean). Girls were not only a foreign subject to them, but in a completely foreign place (another school). The mere concept of, like, having a conversation with a teenage girl when they were 15 was off the table. Then, in comes Dennis. He seems to be popular and he calls himself a God when it comes to girls and he seems to have the experience and connections (see: Dee, lol), so that's enough to convince Mac and Charlie that he is one (a God, I mean to say).

I think a high school Mac would have been dick-notised by Dennis' ladies-man facade at first and desperate to rise to his level... mostly to impress him, but also because he was a horny teenage boy who had never even been kissed. But he was a loser, just generally embarrassing and dumb, and had literally no game due to looking 12 years old, so I don't think Dennis was all too eager to actually teach him how to be with girls, more like watch me bang them and learn. In my mind, this attitude results in Mac's eventual want to sleep with Dennis' prom date and his indifference to hurting his feelings over it (of course, I think blaming Tim Murphy and creating a rift between Dennis and his friend group was also an aspect here.. but I digress).

On the other side of the coin you have Charlie. I imagine Dennis' "pull" and attitude toward girls wasn't really something that won him over, but the exposure to girls wasn't a negative. He liked the idea of girls, and the idea of being friends with them, if they were like Dee, didn't seem terrible.. and they were pretty, especially the blond one whose name always escaped Dee...

Ok, all that being established as a general idea (of mine, I suppose lol), let's talk about the idea of the Gang [not] attending prom in high school.

The concept of prom for them, a boys' catholic school in the early 90s, would have been less like a typical public school prom (where the whole graduating class attends as a party together) and more like a formal mixer between the all-girls sister school (Dee's). Girls get asked out / show off their catholic boyfriends, while the concept of "going stag" was loser-ish or sleazy.. which makes perfect sense for Mac.

In my mind, Charlie may have been interested in going to prom with a certain girl, but Dee wouldn't introduce them and, honestly, getting high in the basement seemed like a better idea than approaching her himself (alternatively, he tried and retreated to the basement to get high). Mac definitely wanted to go to prom, though, probably worked hard to convince any girl to go with him, but he was/is the worst so literally no one was interested (and Dennis wasn't too keen to help him find someone). I imagine in the end he tried to convince Charlie to go with him as friends, they could find girls once they were there, but the idea was unconvincing and their many prior homosexual allegations coupled with the fact that Charlie ultimately wasn't budging on leaving the house (at a point of Mac pulling on him and trying to drag him into coming along) won the argument.

Eventually, a high Mac crashed prom on his own, mad at Dennis for not helping him out and having learned all his tricks on women from him, managed to isolate her and hook up with her without Dennis really noticing... when it comes out later that his prom date cheated on him with his friend, Mac is quick to blame Tim Murphy.. he and Charlie weren't even there, afterall, they were sniffing glue in the basement all night...

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Request idea if you get the time.... Hero sneaking into a fancy ball at the vampires lair to try and find info on them, but gets caught when they try and sneak away (:< thanks!! Love your writing

“Leaving us so soon?”

The hero spun around, air stuck in their throat. Admittedly, they had a thing for danger. At first they hadn’t realised it. Their job was demanding physical and emotional endurance like no other but after a while, they saw beauty in the thrilling.

They couldn’t say anything. Their larynx didn’t allow it.

“It’s not even midnight, yet.” It was their first time dealing with a vampire, they realised. They had studied them for weeks, and yet seeing them in person made them uneasy.

As if they couldn’t comprehend who was standing in front of them.

“I’m sorry…” they answered and they didn’t know why exactly that came to mind.

“Oh, don’t be sorry, little dove. I’ve been watching you for a while now. These people aren’t exactly your type of people, are they?” The villain cocked their head with warm gentleness. “You should be more careful.”

A sweet warning. The vampire closed the heavy door behind them, silencing the music.

And the hall was long. The hero was sure they couldn’t outrun a vampire here on this slippery floor. Not in those shoes.

“I’m sorry, I…I’m not really familiar with these etiquettes.” The vampire smiled softly and the hero was quite sure they could see the ends of their fangs peak through their lips.

“It’s all just hypocritical pretentiousness. Don’t mind this.” The vampire took a step forward and the hero considered taking one back. But they didn’t. “I think we both know we’re not talking about high society, though.”

“Well, I was.” Again, the vampire smiled at the hero’s answer. They were very calm, very patient. The hero hadn’t read about that in any of their books.

“Cute little thing…Who are you, dear?”

“I have an invitation, actually.” The hero took out the little card, waving it in front of the vampire cheerfully. “So, you should know who I am.”

“Hm.” The vampire’s hand was around the hero’s wrist before they even realised it. The waving stopped and the hero’s breathing too. “An excellent copy. You’re getting more interesting by the second.”

“It’s not—”

“Oh, it is…” The vampire leaned in, voice lovingly low. “You’re smarter than this. Don’t think you’re the first human in my home.”

The hero tried to resist, tried to get away but the vampire’s grip was like steel.

“And don’t think I’ll let you go that easily, dove.” The tip of their nose touched the hero’s neck and for a terrible second, the hero got anxious. They didn’t know what they were feeling. This was a little more than “loving the danger.”

“I don’t want any trouble.”

“Liar,” the vampire whispered. They pulled away, hunger in their eyes and chuckled. “When you came here, you expected trouble. When you stayed here, you did too. But don’t worry. I can give you all the trouble you want.”

The hero wasn’t quite sure if they were excited or terrified.

[fratboykate]

Listen, BGAU has been TORTURING ME aaaaalllll week so here's 1.2k of the moment that's been circling my brain me since I woke up. This is obviously before they ever slept together.

---

Yelena stands by the black SUV, arms crossed, posture rigid. Behind her, the afterparty still thumps. Bass rattles through tinted windows, neon lights bleed pink and blue into the night. She checks her watch again. And again.

“Baby!”

She freezes at the pet name. A beat passes. Then she turns, slow and composed, to find Kate stumbling barefoot out the front doors. Heels in hand, mascara smudged, skimpy outfit held together by boob tape and blind faith.

“You promised me ten minutes,” Yelena says.

Kate lurches toward her, wraps her arms around her neck, and presses her face to Yelena’s neck. Inhales deeply.

“Hi,” Kate whispers into her skin. “You’re here.”

Yelena clocks the event security staring. She peels Kate off her with both hands, puts distance between them, then opens the car door in silence.

“Let’s go back inside,” Kate pleads. “Let’s have one drink together.”

“No.”

“Come on. One drink.”

“You’ve had enough, Miss Bishop.”

Yelena nudges her into the backseat.

“Rude.”

Yelena gets in after, slams the door, taps twice on the divider. The driver pulls them into traffic.

Kate slumps against her side, limbs sprawling. Drapes her head dramatically onto Yelena’s lap and blinks up at her, grinning.

“Baby, I wanna go somewhere fun.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?”

Yelena doesn’t answer. Just slides out from under her, careful not to touch. Her ears are visibly red.

“You’re so mean to me,” Kate murmurs, curling into the leather seat with a pout. Then she closes her eyes.

///

The ride is mercifully short.

Kate stays slumped sideways, one leg bent, dress riding high on her thigh. Her heels are somewhere on the floor, her mascara is a crime scene, and her whole body radiates the smug chaos of someone who knows she’s being watched and enjoys it.

Yelena tries hard to stare out the window.

“Dance with me.” Kate slurs. Yelena doesn’t answer. Kate rolls her head toward her. “Do you hate fun?”

“I hate liabilities.”

Kate gasps, hand to her heart.

“You think I’m a liability?”

“I think you’re drunk and I got a call saying you almost fell off a banquette trying to high kick in six-inch heels.”

“I landed it.”

“You fell on the sound engineer.”

“He should’ve moved.”

Yelena huffs. Long-suffering. She doesn't look at Kate. Kate pokes her thigh.

“You’re mad.”

“I’m not mad.”

“I like when you’re mad. You do the thing.”

“What thing?”

“The clenched jaw thing.”

“Miss Bishop…”

“I hate when you do that…I say one thing and you break out the military voice. So stiff. So cold. ‘Yes ma’am. No ma’am.’ So formal.”

The car pulling into Kate’s driveway gives Yelena the perfect excuse not to answer. She practically jumps out to get away from this conversation. She rounds the car and opens Kate’s door. Kate flops her legs out, blinking up at her like she’s about to cause trouble.

“You gonna carry me?”

“You can walk.”

“I could…but I don’t want to.”

Yelena sighs.

“Up.”

She grabs Kate by the elbows and hauls her upright. Kate sags into her immediately, forehead brushing Yelena’s collarbone. Yelena’s perfume is overwhelming. Jasmine, heat, sugar…trouble.

“I’m not wearing panties,” Kate murmurs.

Yelena goes rigid.

“I don’t need to know that.”

“I think you did.”

“Miss Bishop.”

Kate smirks.

“There she is.”

///

The walk up the stairs is torture. Yelena’s arm is around Kate’s waist, guiding her. Kate keeps dragging her heels just enough to be irritating. Her cheek rests against Yelena’s shoulder like she’s never known another home.

“You smell like anger and cheap soap.”

“You smell like tequila and bad decisions.”

“Soooo mean.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. You never let me have fun.”

“The last time you had ‘fun’ you threw a bottle at Steve Rogers’ head.”

“He deserved it.”

At her bedroom’s threshold, Kate stumbles again. Makes a show of collapsing against the doorframe with a dramatic sigh.

“You gonna tuck me in?”

“I’m going to make sure you’re on your side so you don’t choke on your own vomit.”

“Awww, you do care.”

Inside, Kate leans against the vanity, takes a long sip from a mostly-empty water bottle while watching Yelena in the mirror. Yelena crosses her arms. Doesn’t take the bait.

“You’re blushing,” Kate whispers, pleased.

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not doing this, Miss Bishop.”

“You never do anything.”

“There’s nothing to do.”

Kate makes a soft humming sound, not believing her for a second.

“Want me to get in bed now, Officer?”

Yelena doesn’t answer. She guides Kate toward the closet instead, keeping one hand on her back. Steady.

Kate keeps sneaking glances, all coy and testing. She tosses her heels toward a wall. Then her earrings. Then reaches for the zipper on her dress.

“Don’t undress in front of me,” Yelena snaps.

“Relax. I’m wearing pasties. Probably.”

“That’s not…just pick something to wear and go to bed.”

“Make me.”

The dress drops. No underwear. One pasty. God knows what happened to the other. Yelena spins away. Doesn’t breathe.

Kate walks slowly to the bed, back straight, skin shimmering with body glitter and self-satisfaction. She climbs in. The sheets rustle.

“You’re so easy to fluster.”

“I’m not flustered. I’m trying to keep my job.”

“You like your job.”

“I tolerate my job.”

“You like me.”

Yelena turns, slow. Controlled.

“Good night, Miss Bishop.”

Kate’s already curled into the covers, watching her with that unreadable little smile.

“Why does being around me bother you so much?”

“It doesn’t.”

“It does.”

Yelena says nothing. Just walks out. Pulse reckless.

///

Yelena waits by the car, like always. Kate’s assistant emerges from the house and approaches her with his usual awkward energy.

“She’s asking for you.”

“What for?”

The twenty-something year old shrugs.

“Still in bed. Didn’t say.”

Yelena shakes her head. Trudges inside. Takes the stairs two at a time. She knocks once.

“Come in.”

Kate’s in bed. Still naked, but under the covers this time. She doesn’t look hungover enough for how much Yelena assumes she drank.

“I feel like someone parked a bus on my skull,” she groans. Yelena says nothing. “You’re quiet.”

“I’m always quiet.”

“You’re quiet in…a different way.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Kate studies her. Smiles.

“Mmmm,” Kate adds, stretching. “I think I dreamed about you.”

“Sounds like a nightmare.” Yelena avoids looking at her.

“You ever think about pet names?”

“No.”

“I think they’re hot.”

“They’re unnecessary.”

Kate hums.

“I bet you’d lose your mind if someone called you baby in the right tone.” Yelena says nothing. Too long. Too still. Kate grins. “Good to know.”

“This conversation is inappropriate.”

“You keep saying that.”

Kate throws off the covers and stands. Yelena turns fast.

“Miss Bishop, put clothes on.”

“Do you really want me to?” No answer. Kate walks closer. Doesn’t touch. She’s just…right there. Voice all soft. “If I’m making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop.”

“You are.”

Kate tilts her head. Smiles again.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“You don’t take anything seriously.”

“I take you seriously.” Too close. Too much. Kate adds, lower now, “So…firmly against pet names, then?”

“Yes.” Yelena’s voice comes out ragged.

Kate drops the smile. Not hurt. Not angry. Just… letting her go.

“Noted.”

She backs off, wanders back into bed. She grabs the remote. Turns on some loud, stupid reality show. Yelena stands there a moment longer, back still turned, fists clenched. She still hasn’t breathed.

“Did you need me for something?”

“Apparently not.” Kate doesn’t look up.

[tlmtwelve]

Crosshair showing no weakness in front of AZI

[badlydrawnronpa]

hey how have you been? :)

honestly had a lot of lows between this year and the end of 2022, and my mental health is still a rollercoaster I can't control, but I also played a ton of cool games and had some fun times with friends, so 👍

I missed updating this blog even if im not into Dr as much as I was when I started it, so I'm happy to work on some new asks! I'm gonna use the new asks as warm ups before I ink my comic tmrw :^]

[waterme-stories]

Thinking about Laura stealing Logan's TVA jacket and wearing it around (even though she's swimming in it)