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yellowflwrss · 8 months

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“i’m so sorry baby”;dick grayson

• in which dick does the “shut up” prank on his girlfriend while she’s already having a bad day

- fluff but some angst

it had been all over tik tok, an app dick was constantly on when he wasn’t patrolling or beating people’s asses, annoying his siblings or girlfriend. it was videos of boyfriends doing a prank on their girlfriend, secretly filming in a car or in their houses as their girlfriend walks in and says something. they then cut them off with a “shut up.”

obviously, the prank can go many ways, getting amusing reactions out of the girlfriend and a funny video whenever it ends well. knowing how you are, dick wanted to see how’d you react to this prank specifically. you were sarcastic and kind and your attitude was probably what he loved the most about you. so, he was beyond excited to see what you’d say to him.

earlier that day, you had asked dick to pick you up from your nail appointment. first you had work but your boss said you’d get out early that day (for whatever reason you didn’t care to remember) and you had arranged to get your nails done afterwards for fun.

dick was going to arrive an hour earlier than he did, but he received a text from you simply asking if he could pick you up a little later, and of course dick agreed. he’s do anything for you.

parked outside the nail place he had gotten familiar with over time, dick decided to set up his phone to film the prank. a few moments later he saw you walk out of the nail salon and his smile brightened, the camera catching it all. when he saw you get closer his smile dropped, getting into character. dick unlocked your door and you sat in, putting your bag by your feet and getting comfortable. you didn’t seem as enthusiastic as he thought you would after getting your nails done, but dick continued on either way.

“hey babe. how was your day?” your face adorned a small smile.

“it was good.” was all he said. your face barely dropped, but it did nonetheless. you were confused as to why dick hadn’t asked you the same thing, when without fail that’s what he did.

“that’s good. sorry my nails took a little longer than usual, my boss made me—“ that’s when it was dick’s cue to cut you off, and oh he felt so bad.

“just shut up (y/n),” he felt like such a shitty boyfriend but he was too far in for the prank to back out now.” without looking at your face cause he knew he’d break character, dick continued “just—just shut up.” he shook his head and placed it onto the steering wheel.

your face had dropped to one of sorrow. the camera had captured you looking so sad at your boyfriend’s words and you felt so hurt. “oh. okay.” was all you said as you resulted to staring at your lap as you held back the tears that were threatening to spill out.

when all dick heard was silence for a second or two, he pulled his head to look at yours. and he knew he couldn’t go any longer when he noticed the state you were in. “baby—“ he started, about to apologize.

that’s when you started balling, tears streaming down your face as it covered the “sorry” that he repeated alongside a few apologetic words. your makeup soon got messed up as you rubbed the back of your hands to stop the tears from flowing, crying even harder when you noticed your makeup was messed up too.

dick tried to grab ahold of your hand as you cried, embarrassed. you pulled away and reached for the doorknob. not because you were mad at dick but because you were embarrassed, you felt like a child. before you could open the door, dick had reached over and pulled you to him onto his lap with two hands.

if it were any other situation, you’d be blushing and fawning over what your boyfriend had just done. but it wasn’t that situation. and despite the words he said to you, you buried your head into his neck as you cried some more. at that point you weren’t crying because of him, you were crying because of the day you just had.

“baby i’m so sorry. it was a prank—one of those tik tok pranks. i didn’t mean it at all.” he held your head as you slowly stopped the tears, still with your eyes full. dick killed your forehead and the top of your head then your cheeks and grabbed your hands softly and with care and kissed them as well.

“babe your nails look so beautiful, what’s wrong?” he keeps his grip tight but caresses your face, wiping the black mascara tears from your face.

hiccuping, you shook your head, “no, it’s fine don’t worry—“

“(y/n) tell me, i’m here to listen. do i need to beat anyone up? you know i’ll do it gorgeous.”

scoffing with a smile, you shook your head and intertwined your fingers with dick’s as you continued to sit on his lap in his car and tell him the reason for your bad mood.

“it was going all good. but then i had to stay longer to do some extra work that my boss assigned me. i hated it cause i wanted to get my nails done and see you. and then i had to call my nail salon and tell them to push it to a little later if they could—thank god they could or else i’d probably still be waiting to get them done.” you sniffled from crying earlier and continued on, “then the person who usually does my nails was sick and i had to have someone else do it. but they messed up my nails and i thought it was a quick fix so i asked if they could change a certain thing on it because im paying for their time and id charge them extra and everything.” you started to get teary eyed again and with a small squeeze of your hand from dick, you continued on with your story.

then the person doing my nails scoffed at me and rolled her eyes then started talking shit about me to their coworkers in their language. but i understood the language they were speaking. and i felt like shit.” you started to softly cry once again “i felt so bad to make them do it again and they were also making fun of me and everything else. a-and when i was thanking them profusely and all that, they all rolled their eyes at me and i payed them extra because i felt guilty. and they were just so rude. then when you said this to me i just had enough.” you were now spilling out tears once more.

“baby, it’s all okay don’t worry. those idiots are so rude. you don’t deserve any of that. and i’m so so sorry for what i said, the prank. you don’t deserve any of it you’re too sweet and you’re the best girlfriend, i’m so sorry.”

you smiled and ran your freshly manicured fingers through your boyfriend’s hair. “it’s okay dick. i forgive you. i probably would’ve forgiven you anyway.”

“i know you would’ve which sucks even more. i feel so bad. let’s go home and watch criminal minds with chocolate. and let’s cuddle. you’re getting so many kisses.” he profusely tried to say things he knew would make his girlfriend happy. even if being around him made her happy enough.

your eyes lit up and you wiped your face in fear of how you currently looked because of how much you previously cried. “i love criminal minds.” you whispered in excitement. over the past few weeks, dick had been so busy whenever the two of you had down time, so you weren’t able to chill out and be a lazy couple of couch potatoes. so when you heard this you were so happy.

with the same energy you currently had, dick said, “i know, you love criminal minds.”

“i love you.” your eyes looked lovingly into his.

“i love you more, and im so sorry for earlier baby.” even though your eyes were glued to dick and your mind was blank with the fact that you had such an amazing boyfriend, dick was practically 10x more in love with you, no matter how much you said you loved him more. his heart hurt when you hurt and when you were happy, he was even happier.

—

you had given dick permission to post the tik tok. he felt so bad about it but you kind of found it cute how much he visibly cared in the tik tok. and you were also greatful the camera didn’t catch what you thought was an ugly crying face.

user1 STOP THIS IS SO CUTE???

user2 i wonder what bruce thought of this

therdh00d dick head you should get canceled for making her cry

imbatman tell (y/n) i said hello

imbatman you’re an imbecile for making (y/n) cry.

(later on, dick found out that it was damian using bruce’s private tik tok account to text these messages)

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vanteguccir · 7 months

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── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗜𝗞𝗧𝗢𝗞 𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗦 | 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝟮

　　　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: 3 times that Y/N and Chris made a couple's trend on tiktok, and 1 time Matt recorded them.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anons and @nikolastrn

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N placed her phone on the phone holder that stayed on the dashboard of her car, reducing the brightness of the screen and opening the camera app, clicking on the video tab and pressing play on the red button.

She had just left the beauty salon where she had done her nails, cleaned her eyebrows, and waxed her body. Y/N and Chris had agreed for her to pick him up at their house after her beauty moment, so the two of them had lunch together.

The girl decided to browse her For You while she waited for him with her car parked in front of the entrance. One of the first videos that appeared was of a new prank between couples. A smirk appeared on her face, and she quickly decided to do it with Chris. The fact that she had just left the beauty salon would make everything more truthful.

Moments later, she saw Chris open the front door of their house, quickly shouting something into the hall before closing it - probably saying goodbye to his brothers. Y/N smiled briefly at her phone before taking a deep breath, trying to compose herself.

"Hi baby!" Chris greeted as soon as he opened the passenger seat door, getting into the car quickly and closing it, not needing to adjust the position or height of the seat, as that was his place and it was always ready for him - he was obviously the passenger princess of the relationship.

"Hi, my love." Y/N spoke back, turning her upper body towards him with a small smile on her face.

"Let me see them." The boy held out his hands, waiting for his girlfriend to show him her manicured nails, as they always did after she did them.

Y/N let out a laugh and raised her hands, resting her palms on top of his and wiggling her fingers lightly, feeling her cheeks burn in shyness.

Chris ran his blue eyes momentarily over her nails, his mouth opening in surprise at the choice before lifting his girl's hands carefully so as not to smudge the fresh nail polish.

He brought his lips closer to the top of her hands, sealing the soft skin, exhaling the fragrance of the cream that her manicurist always applied before gently releasing them.

"They're beautiful, baby!"

"Thank you! The eyebrows look amazing, too, and I had the best waxing experience today." Y/N had a big smile on her face, gesturing lightly. "James did exactly how I wanted-"

"Wait, James?" Chris felt his heart skip a beat, freezing in place and staring at his girlfriend, almost begging with his eyes to have heard her wrong.

"Yes, James. He was so kind and thoughtful-"

"No, no." Chris raised his right hand with his palm pointed at his girlfriend's face, cutting her off again. "I'm kind and thoughtful, not... this James guy." He shook his head, a look of disbelief on his face.

"Yes, you are, honey. But so was he, and he cleaned all the places I wanted-"

"What? Did he see you naked? While you were spread-legged? In the air?" Chris widened his eyes comically. "No, we're going to stop at a pharmacy right now, and I'm going to buy all the items for waxing. If this James guy can do it, so can I." His voice came out high and thin. He turned his body so that he could reach the seat belt, crossing it over his body and closing it.

Y/N laughed loudly at his words, observing him.

"Come on, what are you waiting for?" Chris ordered, waving his right hand in a "let's go" gesture.

Y/N raised her arms in surrender, laughter still escaping her mouth as her head shook in denial. She brought her right hand to the key in the ignition, starting the engine.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N propped her phone on the kitchen table so that the front camera caught the image of her and Chris, who was standing behind her with a straight look on his face, his hands resting in the front pockets of his Fresh Love sweatpants.

Y/N had asked him to record a video with her, but she didn't explain what it was about.

The girl clicked the red button on the TikTok camera, moving slightly away from her cell and positioning herself in front of Chris.

"If you want to get to him, you've gonna have to go through me first." Her tone was serious, and her eyebrow was raised. She extended her right hand and pointed it at Chris.

"Ooh, Y/N got Matt's toughness." Chris commented, nodding his head with a slight smile on his face.

Y/N laughed, turning around and facing him. She rested her hands on Chris's covered chest and stood on tiptoe, sealing her lips over his quickly.

The brunette lowered his head, still with his eyes closed, seeming to search for Y/N's lips again.

She chuckled softly at his reaction before turning to the camera, crossing her arms.

"Best brother ever." The girl added, her eyes focused on the image of Chris behind her that appeared on her phone screen.

The boy's eyes widened instantly, lifting his head and looking at her exasperatedly, his mouth opening into a perfect O.

"What the fuck? We're not in Alabama, Y/N." Chris practically screamed, taking some steps away from his girlfriend with his hands raised, feeling suddenly dizzy.

The girl threw her head back, laughing at the reaction she received.

"Oh yeah, sweet home, Alabama." Nick's voice sounded from behind her phone before the TikTok ended.

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Y/N's phone was on the computer desk in her shared room with Chris, the back of it resting against the computer so that the screen was vertical and facing the room. The TikTok camera was already open and ready to start recording.

Y/N clicked the red button, and as the 5-second timer started, she sat on Chris's lap, who was in his gaming chair. The girl adjusted herself slightly, smiling when she felt Chris wrap his arms securely around her waist, squeezing her lightly.

"Okay, today we're going to do the best couples therapy: we're gonna talk about the icks we have in each other." Y/N began as she saw the video start recording, turning her face to the right so that she could see Chris, who was smiling and nodding his head.

Y/N stretched her torso and picked up two sheets of paper that were on the computer desk, keeping one with herself and giving the other to Chris, who held it in his left hand, lifting it so he could read the list over her shoulder.

"Do you want to start, baby?" He asked Y/N, receiving a nod in response.

"First on the list, when we're talking and you burp in my face and blow the smell to my direction." Y/N skimmed the list briefly, raising her head and crossing her arms, glancing at Chris from the corner of her eye.

The boy opened his mouth in exaggerated offense, eyes widening.

"You hurt me like that, that's a new love language, don't you know?" He teased, shaking his head and closing his eyes, pretending to be disappointed.

"No, that's disgusting." She pushed her shoulder back slightly, slamming it against his chest and receiving a chuckle in response. "Your turn."

"When you wear that black cropped with silver details. It's horrible." Chris wrinkled his nose, putting the sheet down after reading it again.

"I love that cropped!" The girl turned her upper body to the left, turning her face and looking at her boyfriend with an offended expression. "In fact, I didn't find it on my side of the closet anymore." She added, squinting her eyes.

"Yeah, it's been gone a long time, ma." Chris shrugged. "You didn't even like it that much. Otherwise, you would have noticed it disappearing." He quickly added upon seeing the angry expression on his girlfriend's face, raising his left hand and scratching his nape slightly, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.

"We'll talk about this later." Y/N muttered, turning forward again and reading the second item on her list. "My second ick is when it gets to the end of the day, and you're too tired to shower, so you just lie in our bed in the clothes you've been wearing all day-"

Chris opened his mouth to retort, but Y/N extended her left hand, raising her index finger, stopping him.

"And I have to pull you out of bed and practically drag you to the bathroom so you can finally take a shower." She finished, turning her face towards him and raising her right eyebrow, as if to say "I dare you to contradict me".

"It's okay, I admit it, I hate showering when I'm tired. I didn't even sweat during the day!" Chris defended himself, eyes widening and instantly shutting up when he saw the look in his girl's eyes.

"Next!" She announced loudly with gritted teeth.

"My other ick is when you can't choose what or where you want to eat." Chris read the last item on his list before stretching slightly and placing the paper on the computer desk. "It's not that deep, you know? It's not your last meal. Just choose the damn food!"

"But it is that deep, food is something very serious, baby. You have to choose what you want to eat very carefully. It's the most important thing in the world-"

"Hey, I'm the most important thing in the world!" Chris interrupted his girlfriend's sentence, raising his left hand as his eyes widened, his voice coming out loud.

Y/N threw her head back, a laugh escaping her throat.

"Okay, I'll say one more. It's my last." Y/N announced, clearing her throat and looking at her paper.

"But you asked me to think of just two icks." Chris muttered, raising his right eyebrow in confusion.

"Obviously, I don't have more than two icks, I'm too awesome to have more." She rolled her eyes playfully, lifting her chin in the air in an act of false snobbery.

Chris tried to hold back his laughter, smiling slightly while rolling his eyes.

"Okay, so, when you, out of nowhere, start punching the air right in front of me. Like you're going to punch me in the stomach or something, you look like a weird kid who just got out of karate class." Y/N finished her list, throwing the paper on the floor and smiling at the camera, waiting for Chris to respond.

"Yeah, how do you want me to train to smash the faces of the crazy guys who hit on you?"

"Chris!"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

(This takes place in the same universe as "Sleeping prank | Chris Sturniolo", when Y/N and Chris wake up and realize the prank Nick played on them)

"Matt, what are you doing?" Nick asked as he looked up after hearing footsteps in his direction, seeing Matt approaching with his own phone in his hand, and the rear camera pointed at the oldest.

His phone screen displayed the TikTok camera, already recording.

"There's a couple really mad at you right now." Matt announced, biting his bottom lip to contain his laughter.

Nick's eyes widened, getting up from the bed where he was sitting, standing and taking a few steps back, almost gluing his back against the large windows of the hotel room.

"Tell me you didn't show them the prank video?" Nick asked, looking at Matt with terror in his eyes. They were supposed to see when he posted the vlog many weeks ahead. Chris could be very vindictive when he wanted to.

"Nicolas Antonio Sturniolo!" The female voice echoed from behind the bedroom door, which was opened seconds later by a Y/N with crossed arms and an angry look.

Nick automatically raised his arms in surrender, smiling nervously.

"I can explain-"

"Did you see my horrible sleeping face? You're crazy!" The girl spoke calmly, squinting her eyes as she took slow steps towards him.

"No, you're wrong. You looked beautiful." Nick spoke nervously, nodding his head, keeping his arms raised.

Chris's loud laugh was the last sound Matt recorded before the video ended.

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

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padawansuggest · 10 months

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Okay so on Coruscant there are very few people that don’t actually go out into the streets (I’m thinking politicians and Jedi might be some of the few who don’t have to go outside very often if at all because the senate and the temple are both the size of a small city) which means that 1: they NEED to have vitamin D lights on the streets of Coruscant because otherwise everyone would be depressed like in the deepest winter at all times. And 2: that means I think the Jedi temple and the senate themselves also are just full of Vitamin D lights.

Also y’all need to stop writing fics where kids are afraid of ‘getting caught sneaking around after dark’ or something because the temple is literally so full of species that you have no idea of that kid is nocturnal or whatever. They very well could be. Tbh I wanna write a fic where someone catches Obi-Wan sneaking around at night to play a prank with Quin or something and he’s all ‘bruh my eyes glow in the dark I’m obviously meant to be awake at this hour’ and no one can argue with him. Stuff like that.

Also I think the temple neeeeeeeds multiple healing halls (once more. It is the size of a small city) one in the aquatic center of the temple (which canonically exists) one in the temple main (which should span over like four levels and act as it’s own building okay) and one in the creche. This is the MINIMUM amount of healing halls I think they should have.

A tram system should be inside the walls. Places in the temple that act as sideways lifts and also a subway system because believe it or not, there are species in the temple as small as one foot tall, and I’m not just talking about Grogu, I’m talking about others like Kushiban and others similar. Once more. It is the size of a small city. They should have both subway type stations (that take you certain places like the main healing halls or the biggest canteen or the supply sector of the temple things like that) because oh my god imagine how many hours the commute to your workstation could take if you didn’t have that shit. Annoying af.

They gotta have names for all the different canteens okay. Like ‘meet me in the cafeteria’ in a temple the size of a small city is bullshit cause even in the books they have multiple cafeterias.

A… let’s call it a Mall Section of the temple. A place where you can pick up groceries (the temple makes their own food and I assume most of it is cooked in careens but also not letting people cook their own food is a recipe for a Jedi starving to death on a mission lmao) but they also have a salon (skin care and hair care are very important and if you let all these babies cut their own hair they gonna turn out like me no one wants that) and a clothing ‘store’ where you can get certain size clothes and robes from, or even undercover mission clothes. There need to be Jedi in these places too!!! Imagine going to the salon with your master and having a gossip talk about your new lineage member!!! It’s important to society!!!

A Jedi movie theater where the masters send their kiddos on the weekend so they can enjoy a glass of wine and not be sneezed on for three hours.

I’ve actually seen a few mentions in fics and posts about tea salons so that is def also a thing. It’s the Jedi version of a cafe. I think people who like baking take turns working there and everyone chips in for tea selections and stuff.

Droid Ubers. They need to get somewhere but feel sick as heck and it’s not near any good lifts or the subway trams??? Call a droid Uber lmao. It shouldn’t be unusual either lol just grandmaster on his way to bother his kid while not aggravating his hip after hip surgery.

Remember that Jedi who are like 10 foot tall also exist so remember there ARE apartments in the temple that could fit Kenobi’s Dino-Horse girl Boga.

There should also be apartments with like 10 bedrooms and bathrooms (or even one giant communal bathroom) around a singular living/cooking space!!! Let Jedi live in communes!!!!

The aquatic levels of the creche are def the cutest place in the temple you can’t argue with me on the idea of water babies swimming and cuddling under water.

On another note to the fact that species like Kushiban exist???? Imagine tiny doors and corridors that used to be used by mouse droids but they became so useful to tiny Jedi so they got taken over. Just imagine that.

Bartering markets where Jedi trade things, mostly things they get on missions or are given to them as gifts, nothing goes to waste so they find a proper place for all gifts and extras here.

Cooking classes. Obi-Wan has been kicked out of all of them his cooking is so bad. Anakin claims bullshit he loves Master’s cooking! But then, he also eats worms…

Anyways. Y’all too single minded with this shit. It just be all ‘cafeteria, living quarters, healing halls and archives’ with you guys. Where is the culture. Where is the acknowledgment of multiple species all living in the same area taking place in a culture of peace and galactic exploration???? Give them a liquor store idgaf.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #clone wars #the Jedi

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faeryarchives · 8 months

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savanaclaw with a furina - like female reader!

the "regina of all waters, kindreds, peoples and laws" is deeply loved by all. under her flamboyant and imprudent facade, lies a girl holding an unbearable weight and guilt on her shoulders to save her people. note: as requested and i love furina sm hihi i will also write for other dorms warning: major spoilers for genshin archon quest other fics: heartslabyul with a furina-like reader & i'm not jealous !! & to my beloved & more than words

-‘๑’- leona kingscholar

"huh? what is the esteemed dorm leader of savanaclaw doing in front of my house?" "... why do you look like you didn't sleep for days? nevermind, take back your pets - they've been following me the whole day and poking me with water." "oh my archons, they like you!"

leona knew different kinds of people, faes and beastmen but never a god! not that you broadcasted it to the world - of course he heard it while grim was chatting away from the garden

so this lion observed your moves and to be honest, you were just like an ordinary person

"what are you doing hiding behind me?" "ahem! you know, i don't really know the forest that much so i would appreciate if i would put myself behind yo- ahhh! what is that?!" "it's just a branch, herbivore. i never knew you are scared of branches."

he actually gained another chess player buddy - he discovered it at the cost of being drenched in water from your water familiars

never he would imagine how on earth did you not go crazy standing in for your archon and acting for so so long? and despite belittling you and your friend group, he couldn't believe his ears when you stood up for him against the other dorms

"what leona did was wrong but how would you feel if all the trainings and efforts were all in naught and overlooked by the people you considered as family? imagine if your fate has already been sealed before you were even born?"

oh, he didn't expect you of all people to do that honestly + not so bad at all so expect a lot of sweets everyday curtesy of this lion

don't tell anyone but with you acting just as yourself and discovering your passions with him as a witness - leona feels proud like a lion watching his cub succeed

extra: you and cheka really go along well to the point that leona thinks cheka might replace him with you someday

-‘๑’- ruggie bucchi

ruggie trusts his skills in sneaking around and swiping things if needed and he will bet that no one could ever discover him immediately

"after pulling a prank on grim and my salon members, you must think that i am much of a gullible fool?"

now you both did really met at a rough start - the hyena thought you would be more snobbish and not to mingle with people below his level especially after hearing you being a god

but seeing you shielding him during leona's overblot and regularly visiting him during his recovery at the clinic made him questioned his thoughts about you

"why are you always visiting me? i thought you hated me?" "...? where did you get that nonsense? if i do hate you, i would go out of my way to buy these doughnuts for you."

well look at you two now! close like two peas in a pod - you really enjoyed spending time with ruggie because you were seeing the world in a different perspective

having hard time picking your new macaroni menu for the day? no worries, ruggie will make sure you will be able to cook other meals than this. not good with bargaining with sam? hold his groceries, he have this in the bag.

"more interesting trinkets for me~!" "oh you collect trinkets? why didn't you say so?"

omg new trinket collector buddy 🥺 whenever you give him something such as a bracelet or even a hairclip he will wear it like a badge of honor

it's alright to help other students but he is worried that being to kind in nrc might backfire on you

"you shouldn't be too trusting here. i know you just want to help but like your friends said - you should also help yourself at times."

while he might not look like it but ruggie can sense your mood change accurately especially when it involves the topic of your past

this one whole year on nrc might not be comparable to your 500 years of living but ruggie will make sure that it will be the best one

-‘๑’- jack howl

other than the adeuce and grim team - jack is the person you actually vibe with!

maybe its because his sense of justice and responsibility reminds you of a dear friend back home and it actually comforts you to see it + makes you feel less homesick

this man is very used to his little siblings so expect him to come off as a brotherly vibes + probably makes you an exemption to touching his ears and letting your salon members put some design in his hair

"... do you think these three would be great teammates during magift competitions?"

"hmmm, i must say they do make a great team. what if we bring it up to leona, i think these three will enjoy it very much."

well the dorm leader liked the idea but seeing how they acted during the practice - it's safe to say it is very risky because they only listen to you, jack and leona

ANYWAYS jack sometimes come to the ramshackle dorm just to wake you up knowing you probably stayed up late reading your novels

he tried inviting you to his morning run only to see you the next day already tired and carrying you on his back after one run

"you can't blame me okay! i was born to drama and directing not in running!"

speaking of carrying you on his back he sometimes do it just because he wants to especially when jack knows too well how much you overwork yourself

while he can read you very well, you can also read this guy by the book through his ears and tail movement

"... jack what are you doing here so late?" "…what? it’s not like i was waiting for you or anything." "i never said that though?" "hmp." while he look away, his tail would impatiently wag and hit the wall behind him making you laugh "uhuh, whatever you say. let's go back to our dorms now big guy."

it turns out that while spending the whole afternoon up to evening, jack wanted to accompany you back to the dorm safely - worried that someone is bullying you because you were down for days.

he is not that expressive with words - but just know that jack will always be your friend despite your upbringings or not being open to tell your past, he understands it pretty well

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland hcs #twst fluff #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jack howl x reader #a.savanaclaw #faeryarchives

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justwinginglife · 2 months

Note

Omg! Hii!

Anyways, I would love for you to write something like, maybe y/n is petty, because soshiro and y/n were both battling it out for the vice captain job? Soshiro Thinks Y/n hates his guts because shes always roasting him. Oneday, he stumbles opon her diary, and finds out shes actually a die-hard simp

OH MAYBE SHE SAYS SOMETHING LIKE "I love it when he bosses me around' EHEHE

Anyways love your fics!! <3

@soshirohoshinasimp Yay it's you again! Hello dear, so happy you love my fics! Appreciate you so much. I hope you continue writing as well! Also, thank you so much for this prompt, I had so much fun writing it, it's definitely one of my favs.

Follow Me

You and Hoshina butt heads so frequently it was a wonder your heads weren't permanently mashed together at this point.

It started when you both met during the Defense Force Exam- he had already taken down a third of the kaiju in the arena and he had the nerve to snatch one of your kills from you, the attention-seeking bastard. You had your gun aimed and ready, finger curled around the trigger, about to shoot, and he swooped in and sliced the kaiju to bits. In response, you chased him all over the training grounds, sniping every beast he went after before he could even react. And that was how he found out that there was actually someone who could keep up with his speed. Yeah, he was annoyed as shit, which pleased you immensely.

Then, when you were both rookie officers in the same division, you'd constantly be competing over combat power. He'd increase his stamina through vigorous training, bragging to you that he was at 40% and then you'd shoot back that he was still too damn slow because you were at 45%. Then he'd learn a new sword style technique and hit 50% with a smug look on his stupid face and you'd rush to keep up, vowing to him you'd make him choke on your dust one day when you left him behind. Sometimes you'd swear that just the act of pissing you off upped his combat power because it gave him the biggest rush. Some days, you weren't even sure if he cared about the numbers anymore, he just liked to push your buttons. Well you always pushed right back.

You accidentally glimpsed some old pics of Hoshina when he was a kid and you realized he'd had the same haircut his entire life so he must have one hell of a consistent barber. And that barber had to have hella dirt on him, having known him his whole life. So, of course, you tracked down his barber (like any sane person would do, right?) and coaxed him into telling you stories about Hoshina when he was little.

The next day, the base was abuzz with gossip about the time that Hoshina almost drowned at the hair salon because he tried to scoot further up in his chair while his barber was still shampooing him and he hit his head on the faucet, choking down the water in the process, and Hoshina just knew you had something to do with it. After all, how could it have not been you? You had the most satisfied, most devilish look on your face all day, though you never admitted it was you who spread the rumors.

After that day, it seemed nothing was off limits anymore. Hoshina spread hideous pictures of you with braces on when you were a teenager all throughout campus (to this day, you were still unsure how on earth he found them, you thought you'd destroyed all trace of the evidence) and as payback, you hid erectile dysfunction medications in his bag and then slit a hole in the bottom of it so when he spilled the contents of his bag in the locker room the next day in front of all the other officers and then denied it vehemently the other officers just took his denial as further confirmation of his... issue.

But as nasty as both of your pranks seemed, some of them were actually quite amusing, even endearing. You'd had a bad day at work one day and to cheer you up (you think), Hoshina set a litter of puppies loose in your bedroom. You did have a shit ton (pun intended) of shit to clean up after that, but it didn't matter, you'd already cheered up when you saw their adorable wagging tails and big round eyes. So, to repay him, you filled every square inch of his room with bottles of his favorite coffee. He couldn't sleep on his own bed for weeks, but at least he had a long lasting supply of wake-up juice.

And the two of you got to know each other extremely well through all this competing and bickering. He'd figured out what time you liked to go to your favorite bakery and he'd buy out their entire stock of your favorite pastry before you got there. It took you awhile to figure out how they were always cleaned out of only your favorite snack everyday, but then one day you got injured in a fight and you found him leaving a chocolate croissant by your hospital bed when you woke up.

It seemed like things were taking a different turn than you'd thought, and maybe the two of you could actually be friends for once, instead of rivals.

But then you both got the same letter saying that one of you would be the new Vice Captain of the Third Division and it all depended on your performance going forward.

"Only 70% combat power, huh? Not very 'Vice Captain' of you. Maybe I'll have less competition than I thought." You'd smugly say to him in passing.

He'd roll his eyes and say, "Oh yeah? And how's that training of yours going by the way? Cuz I could've sworn I beat you by nearly half a mile in that last marathon, getting slow in your old age?"

You were the same damn age as him. Fucker.

But even though the two of you would tease each other like you always did, you could tell that this time things were different. There were actual stakes on the line and one of your futures would be greatly impacted by this. You were both so young, it would be an impressive feat to be Vice Captain at this age. Both of you wanted that badge of honor to parade around.

Eventually, you were neck and neck. Both about 90% each. For the first time you were evenly matched. It was anyone's call who'd be the next Vice Captain.

It even crossed your mind that neither of you would ever be Vice Captain and the two of you would just be locked in a life long battle to be better than the other. But one day, something changed your mind and changed the course of both of your futures.

You saw him training someone in secret, someone who had absolutely no chance of being in the Defense Force and honestly had no business being in the Defense Force with how weak he was. But Hoshina saw his potential and he spent his free time nurturing that potential. That made you think about all the other little things Hoshina would do like this.

If someone was down about their skill level, he'd always point out something that was so obviously impressive about them and his simple logic would always win them over, cheering them up. Because how could he be wrong if it actually made sense? He'd say it like it was a simple statement, like he was just reciting a fact, but you knew he'd put thought into trying to comfort them.

If a kaiju was particularly difficult to defeat, Hoshina would look at all the angles, strategizing different ways to bring them down, ways that normal people wouldn't even consider. Even if it was crazy, if it was possible, if it would save more people, he'd do it with no hesitation.

He was fearless and strong, but he was also selfless and kind. And you'd started to adore that about him.

So you wrote a letter to the Captain of the Third Division withdrawing your desire to be Vice Captain, saying you'd follow wherever Hoshina led.

It was your little secret. Until it wasn't.

You swore you saw Hoshina coming out of your room one day, but when you didn't find it filled to the brim with anything, didn't see any trace of his usual pranks, you thought you might have imagined things.

But then when he ignored you for an entire week, not even bothering to tease you or respond to your teasing, you knew something was very wrong. You even started to miss him annoying you, and that realization deepened the pit in your stomach even further.

Then he showed up at your door.

"Can I... can I come in?"

You stared at him for a moment. "Um... sure?" You stepped aside awkwardly, unsure what was about to happen, but you missed him so much you'd let it happen anyway.

He paced in front of your desk for a moment and then he finally said, "I got the Vice Captain position."

You smiled. "Congrats. I'm happy for you."

He groaned at that. "Don't. Don't do that, don't say that. I only got the position because of you."

You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he could be talking about. Surely he didn't know about your letter... right? "What do you mean? You got the position because you deserved it." Your words were still true, you did feel he was the best person for the job.

"Yeah but you wrote that damn letter. At first I was so pissed at you, and then I was so pissed off at myself for feeling like I couldn't have gotten the spot without you."

You gulped. Well shit. Cat's out of the fucking bag now.

"Hoshina-"

"No, I'm not done yet. Let me finish."

You let him continue but you sank into the couch, feeling like the shock of having this conversation was too much to handle standing.

"I read your diary. I felt like we'd been so stressed lately competing for Vice Captain, I thought a lighthearted joke would bring us back to where we were before, so I wanted to see what I could do to get you to smile again. So I flipped through your diary, and yes, I know where you hide it, don't even give me that look- you're not very good at hiding things and you know I know you too well for this."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. The familiar sound eased your nerves a little. Just a little. You still held your breath as he continued, wondering just how much he read.

"I was shocked by the way, here I was thinking you hated me and I come to find out that you think it's cute when I boss you around and you actually like being around me." He teased, nudging you playfully.

You flushed at that but remained silent.

"But then I read that you'd sent in the letter withdrawing from the running. I was so furious I couldn't even read the rest. So I sulked for a week. But now I'm here. And I want to know why. I know you well enough to know this can't be a joke. You'd never throw away something so important for the sake of a prank, so tell me why. Why'd you do it?" His eyes were desperate and pleading and you knew you couldn't lie to him.

You cleared your throat, meeting his gaze even though every part of you wanted to look away. "I meant what I said. You deserve the position, more than me even. I'm strong, but I don't inspire people the way you do. I'm fast, but I don't rally people the way you do. And I care about people, but you love people. You were meant to do great things and I guess I just realized I wanted to watch you do them. I'll follow wherever you go, Soshiro."

It was his turn to flush now, realizing that this was the first time you'd ever called him by his first name, and with such sincerity no less. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to compose the right words to say. He finally settled on mumbling, "You always were a pain in the ass, you know that?"

You laughed at that, a real genuine laugh and it made him smile. "I could say the same for you. But you know... I can't seem to live without you being a thorn in my side anymore. Is that so strange?"

He shook his head quickly. "I feel the same. It's like I need you near me or I can't go on with my life."

You both go silent as the weight of this realization hits you hard.

"Follow me. Be by my side. Wherever I go, I want you there with me," He said finally, quoting your earlier words. He held a hand out to you and you took it, squeezing it tight and then pressing a kiss to it.

He's shocked but then he says with a smirk, "I think you missed." He points to his lips.

"Yeah, no, you're going to have to buy me dinner first." You tease, nudging him with your shoulder.

He grins widely and you take in the sweet sight.

"I can do that. I'll buy you a million dinners if that's what it takes."

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #anime #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina #oneshot #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #anime fanfic #fluff

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soapoet · 11 months

Text

How they'll confess their feelings

requested by anon.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: Hands to myself by Selena Gomez

This energy is very open and inviting. Your person is quite bold, and when they know what they want they show persistence, and adapt quickly to changing winds. They are not fazed by much and can weather any storm. They have a bit of a "won't take no for an answer" type of energy to them, but not the toxic kind. They may appear to you as somebody who doesn't take things seriously, or perhaps they are so direct in their affections and intentions you simply take it as something said in jest rather than the honest truth of their heart, something they'd say to just about anybody and therefore not for you to give much merit. They don't take themselves too seriously and have a very uplifting and lighthearted presence, which can so easily be assumed to go hand in hand with non-committal or even player tendencies. In reality, they simply enjoy keeping things light to assure those around them are having a good time and don't sweat the small things, which very well may stem from a childhood in which they served as a mediator or created distractions during rough times, aiming to always find silver lining to avoid dread and loss of hope in their loved ones. They are nurturing and protective by nature and do, in fact, know when to put their serious face on, and then they surprise all with their dependability and their ability to persevere, always coming out of things unscathed and even striving.

Their confession is direct, but places the ball in your court. They are good at marketing themselves and would make a great salesman by their persistence alone. They are confident, but not cocky, though they play on a little bit of arrogance for entertainment value. I'm hearing things such as "you're going to have to eat today anyway, so might as well get fancy with it", which holds that essence of boldness and persistence that I am picking up on so strongly. They show through actions what they have to offer, and whilst they will take a serious rejection, they're playfully pushy in this way where they don't expect anything other than the chance to treat you to a little something like a dinner and that way show you what they're made of. They certainly appreciate and enjoy a little game of cat and mouse to start with, so any initial reluctance from you that is less like rejection and more like a challenge for them to prove themselves to you is not only welcome but encouraged. They're somewhat traditional, but treat you like an equal. A major goal to them is to allow you to have a good time and not worry about things in their presence. There is a lot of laughter involved here as well, and you'll find yourself charmed by them effortlessly. It may be hard to actually pinpoint where exactly a confession occurred because their pursuit of you is ever-present from the start.

Additional details: new phone, swimming pools, wine, get togethers, stocks, business, airplanes, real estate, steak, gyms, football, wrestling, DJs, white sneakers, movie theatre, necklaces, bouquets, big family, cars/opening car doors, shopping, pranks, instagram, nail salons, entrepreneurship, beaches, pizza, Amazon, cruises, leisure, stand-up comedy, concerts, high-end brands, red, B/D/T/K/J, Libra/Gemini/Cancer/Leo.

02.

Shufflemancy: There till the end by JERUB

Quite jittery, restless energy. Your person is overcome with emotions leading up to this occasion, and the various scenarios they play out in their head trying to find the correct when and where and how make their stomach churn like they're spinning around in a carousel. They want to be bold, but perhaps it would be too risky, so they play it cool, or at least try to, only to find that their approach may actually be much too vague for you to catch on. This person is usually quite open with their emotions and easy to read. To their near and dear they are an open book and they pride themselves in their own ability to read others. They always try to cheer up loved ones and strangers alike, even when they aren't certain what to say or do they try their best. This person always seems to get back on their feet when they're knocked down, and their inner strength may come as a surprise to some because they look rather harmless and have a very bright energy about them, like the sun that so easily could be overcast. It is often said that the brightest smiles are on the faces of those who have known the greatest sorrows, and that appears to ring true with your person. Their optimism is a tool developed for survival, and has gotten them far in life. They often wield this optimism for others too, selflessly rallying behind others and their goals and dreams, and serve as the number one supporter tirelessly and try to make sure nobody feels left out in the cold.

In their attempt to find the balance between delicate and bold, they may find themselves so overcome and frustrated that they simply blurt it out. For some, they may opt for something silly or lighthearted, that is still direct, but does not feel as scary to them. They could confess via a game of hangman, or even write one of those "do you like me? yes/no" notes of bygone playground days and bruised knees. They are endearing, and I see that you two have much in common. There's a strong foundation of friendship, too, which may be their source of unrest as they wish not to ruin what you have. They may very well end up going on a tangent, blabbering on about their feelings nervously to fill the silence so much they don't give you the chance to speak before you shush them and put them at ease with the knowledge that it is mutual and they have no reason to fret and fluster so badly.

Additional details: video games, tabletop games, converse, Fruits basket, Sailor moon, slurpees and milkshakes, youtube, mismatched socks, animals, lofi, indie, grocery stores, parks, band t-shirts, empty playgrounds, bubblegum, mints, cemeteries, mason jars, art, guitars, cotton candy, thrift shops, fishing, bicycles, plushies, scrunchies, friendship bracelets, rodents and birds, small towns, nuggies, venting, Pisces/Leo/Aquarius/Scorpio/Sagittarius,J/V/S/L/N.

03.

Shufflemancy: When we're old by Ieva Zasimauskaitė

Oh dear. This energy feels like a neat and tidy office with loose papers thrown about. What happened here, I could ask, but you did. You happened. This person seemed content in the daily routines, their feet planted on solid ground, until suddenly their foundations were tested by a hurricane. Sweeping in and changing everything, you turned their life upside down. At first they may have been frightened, worried that you will surely be a problem. They could at first wish to solve you like a puzzle, only to find no corner pieces because you are ever-expanding, a fairytale with no end but many twists and turns and many pages still unwritten. They are perplexed, but oh so fascinated. You awaken wonder and awe in them, as though you came in to show them a peek of what's beyond the veil, far away from their mundane, solved, scientific, factual, proven reality. You inspire them, yet your words and ways challenge everything they know. They go through rapid growth triggered by you, and a lot of it not for the faint of heart. They are a rock amidst storms, a lighthouse keeper assuring safe passage for ships at sea, and have never quite known the depths of the sea and the crashing waves that you call home.

If you are observant, which many of you certainly are, you may notice the battles that take place inside their head even when they remain so calm and collected on the outside, and know long before they tell you just how they really feel about you. For many of you, they may find the circumstances iffy, the timing poor and unfortunate, but their feelings are as real and true as they are overwhelming. They experience many sleepless nights, and may argue with themselves, a court case as both the prosecutor and the defendant, whilst you seem to be the judge and jury and hold the key to the inevitable verdict. They may very well need a green light from you, but they will confess their feelings candidly, likely in a place only semi private for the sake of your comfort, thinking you need escape routes as they're convinced what they read off of you is a trick of their own mind and false hope that what they feel is mutual. They are gentle and cautious, try their best not to overstep any real or perceived boundaries between you. Though they hide a romantic behind their exterior, your first talk about something more between you can at first feel like an interview, as they wish to cover their bases and make sure they wouldn't waste your time or you theirs by having different directions and goals in the long-term, because the long-term is what they want. This group is the most likely to see fast engagements and marriage and other such milestones due to this clarity early on.

Additional details: spirituality, churches, meditation, sleep hypnosis or lucid dreaming, tarot, astrology, weddings, moving, soda and energy drinks, nostalgia, piercings and/or tattoos, hiking, travelling, community, helping, third party or recent breakups, to-do lists and planners, glasses, stress, cooking, purple, blue, gyms and sports, metal, journaling, blogs, text messages, tech, Leo/Virgo/Capricorn/Cancer/Pisces, E/T/K/H/A/S.

04.

Shufflemancy: Die for you by The Weeknd

This is very potent energy in comparison to the other piles. It is heavy and deep, almost suffocating but closer to a weighted blanket rather than true smothering. This person feels everything quite deeply and never seems to know how to express themselves or where to even put all these emotions, as though they always find themselves in aisle three struggling to hold all their items and wish they had just grabbed a basket upon entry. Their feelings for you creep in slow and steady like a predator stalking its prey from the tall grass, and before they know it they are met with great fear of abandonment and worry you will be swept up by another, worried that even if you were theirs you could do better. They may very well have history of poor relationships which ended in their demise, leaving their heart broken and full of trust issues. You may not even be aware of their insecurity as they carry themselves with confidence and are at ease with their peers, mix and mingle so effortlessly and appear so carefree. They have a lot of passion and take their work and hobbies very seriously. Their dedication to the things that matter most to them is remarkable and they have tenacity to push onwards regardless of any odds stacked against them, though their energy mostly comes in spurts and they require time to recharge or recompose themselves after all their sudden leaps and efforts. They may confuse you, as their devotion to you as an ally burns so bright, yet they seem to not make any moves to indicate that there is more to it. Perhaps this person is confused too, because for many it is possible that they once chose to not pursue love seriously due to past experiences, yet your presence is so stable and safe they want to so badly take a leap of faith in your direction.

This clash of desire and fear is not easy for them, and they go through a long period of denial from which they constantly find themselves slipping, always saying or doing something more than what your dynamic would call for, acting out the role of a partner out of their ease in your presence, then stepping back and fighting the current that threatens to wash them downstream to unknown territory, only to once again be lulled into this comfort you provide. They catch themselves daydreaming of a proper commited relationship with you often, but just as often they shake their head and wave those thought bubbles away. Their eventual confession is just as tumultuous as the feelings that reside within them. It could occur as a result of a heated argument, or at a time they are convinced you will leave them or hurt them and they simply fail to stop their outburst. Most will put it in a kiss before they put it in words, and there may be a lot of stressful and overwhelming emotions happening all at once for both of you as this strange and quite frankly exhausting push and pull dance reaches ots climax and comes to an end. This revelation fortunately provides instant relief to all this torture as though a kiss and whispered promises serve as morphine.

Additional details: lighters, vinyls, mesh, velvet, Lana Del Rey, Phoebe Bridgers, parties, drinking, shattered glass, bruises and hickeys, astrology and numerology, college, fwb, jealousy, cats, red, d&d, mass effect, social media, tinder, birthdays, plushies and figurines, kdramas, taboo, letters, poetry, reels, LED lights, therapy, pastries, Aries/Scorpio/Capricorn/Virgo, F/B/A/G/D.

05.

Shufflemancy: How you get the girl by Taylor Swift

It may take some time for this person to outright say anything, because their energy is as slow as it is steady. They don't make hasty decisions, and like to take their time to perfect all that they do and say. Despite this meticulous energy, they are quite light and airy. They may be quite critical of themselves, and always strive to do their best and measure up to their own, sometimes near impossible, standards. They are strong and independent, yet may have grown up within a lot of instability, which lead them to solidify into a rock so that turbulent times would not shake them as it did in the past. They have a dominance about them that is neither threatening or demanding. They carry themselves well and do not step on any toes as they go about their life achieving every goal they set for themselves. They try to learn to relax and live a little, and find it easier to do in good company. Their circles may be small and close-knit, as though they wish to keep their life private and managable, quality over quantity. They are incredibly loyal, and though they are difficult to get to know and rarely let down their guard, once you're in, you're truly in, and they would move mountains for you just as they do for everyone they hold close.

They may lack experience or confidence in love, for some they poured all their energy into their studies, careers, hobbies, or other relationships like family and friends, and decided not to force love. With you they feel comfortable and safe and may go out of their way to allocate time to spend with you every day, and they diligently remain at your disposal for anything at all should you need them. The foundation of trust and support they lay down over the course of many months and seasons changed before they dare confess what cards they hold so close to their chest provides promise of longevity and purpose for your relationship. They may confide in their loved ones for advice and encouragement before they come forward. Sitting there shuffling notes, getting up and pacing and wracking their brains for just the right words to say, but in the end their confession is just as light as ever. You may have felt for a long time that the two of you were practically dating, though without the official stamp of exclusivity, and this is what they may allude to in their confession. Words untold always on the tip of their tongue come out gently, but with certainty and with a firm hand for you to grab and hold on to. This occurs in a comfortable routine environment, something safe and predictable. Nothing lavish, nothing big and bold, no fireworks and marching bands. Just amidst your usual day to day, making it somehow unexpected and expected all at once, as though it was inevitable, but still surprising. Their confession may leave you in tears of relief or joy or shock, or a concoction of them all, yet this new chapter feels like freshly baked bread and a good morning text. So simple and sweet and natural in this simple brand of perfection of theirs.

Additional details: classical music, working out, family, wingman, salad, selfcare, psychology, puppies, car problems, 20 questions, countryside, eyeshadow palettes, phone calls or voice memos, LDR, school, lace, divorce, trauma, literature, lgbt+, trains, movie nights, floral, anxiety, politics, medication, doctor's appointments, news, red lipstick, green and beige, nature, baking, giggles, Attack on titan, Leo/Taurus/Libra/Pisces, Y/J/A/E/W.

06.

Shufflemancy: Call my name by Priest

This person will need some encouragement. Some sort of signal that their plane will land safely and is cleared for approach. Their energy is like contained chaos. Their mind is everywhere all at once, yet they appear at peace, relaxed, and so calm on the outside. They aren't surprised by the butterflies in their stomach, but have a tendency to enjoy them while they last without acting upon their feelings. Typically they expect these butterflies to fly away eventually, but it seems with you they've made a permanent home making their heart flutter every day, far beyond the usual expiration date. This surprises them, and makes them a little uneasy. They so often keep to themselves and don't bother others with their feelings or their needs, that they find themselves at a loss when they try to find the right words. Which is peculiar, as they seem to have such a way with them under any other circumstance. Always knowing the right thing to say, providing heartfelt guidance and insight at the drop of a hat when somebody needs it, known by their kindred spirits as both wise and witty. Yet this eloquence becomes a lost artform when it comes to expressing themselves and their feelings, and they feel embarrassed by their tongue-tied stutters and inability to string together a coherent sentence. Perhaps in their youth the key to their survival lied in becoming invisible and minimising their needs and blurring their boundaries. Now they go with the flow of life and may sometimes feel like an intangible being amongst solid mortals with beating hearts that to them sound so loud they couldn't possibly speak loud enough to be heard.

Their approach is careful, like a detective uncovering a crime clue by clue. They plant seeds and nurture them, hoping you will notice the tiny leaves which poke out from the dirt. They have perfected the art of dropping hints, and are looking for a signal that they are allowed and welcome to do and say more. Their pursuit of you can feel like a slowburn persuasion of you to say something first, like they're the puppeteer behind the scenes pulling strings in their favour so that confessing their secrets won't be so scary. You'll come to find the depth of their true feelings shocking. Once their walls come down and they show their vulnerability you will find them so sincere and sweet in their hopes and dreams for the two of you that you may find yourself teary-eyed. They come with the offer of dedication to waking up every day choosing to love you, actively, as a choice, keeping this promise like an oath. It's hard to pinpoint a confession here, as they weave a web, luring you in, coaxing it out of you first, or get close enough to the truth that there can be no doubt in either of you.

Additional details: childhood wounds, cereal, multiple tabs open, mobile games, distractions, true crime of haunted side of youtube/tiktok, horror movies, cold hands, dyed hair, Olivia Rodrigo, kpop, foxes, cats, blue birds, keys and keychains, beanies, venus flytrap, headphones, chips, broccoli, spicy food, books, wikipedia, reddit, ADD/ADHD, flannels, fairy lights, gaming setups, lightsabers, aviation, documentaries, persona games, nighttime, magic, netflix, Gemini/Cancer/Aquarius/Pisces/Sagittarius, K/P/V/Z/M.

#pac reading #energy reading #intuitive reading #pick a card reading #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #tarot reading #tarotblr #love reading #love pac #future spouse #soapy.post

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agaypanic · 10 months

Note

can u write a chase davenport x baddie like everyone knows she’s fine asf and has no clue why she’s dating him and he’s just super lovey and fluffy

Chase Davenport Dating a Baddie Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

A/N: a bit suggestive in one part but that’s it

***

Everyone’s surprised that he pulled someone, period

But seeing that he pulled you specifically?

They act like this is earth-shattering news

Lowkey thought that it was a prank or that he was paying you

“So, Chase, when are we gonna meet this girlfriend of yours?” Leo asked as he and the bionic trio entered the school. To be honest, they half thought Chase was joking when he told them he was in a relationship, but wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Uh… Oh! Seems like right now.” Chase left his siblings to go to his locker, where you were waiting for him. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him.

“Oh my gosh, she’s gonna slap him,” Adam said as you raised a hand to Chase’s face. But to everyone’s surprise, you used the hand to pull his face to yours and kiss him.

Adam, Bree, and Leo slowly approached you and Chase, clearly shocked. When you pulled away, you noticed them and gave a wave.

“Hey.”

“This can’t be real.”

Chase is absolutely smitten with you

Follows you around like a puppy

He just wants to do anything that’ll make you happy

“Chase, you don’t have to carry my bags.” You tell him, but you still let him take the bag of things you just bought from your hand. Watching his muscles flex as he grips the multiple bags is definitely a plus.

“I want to.” He shrugs, jutting out his elbow to signal you to take it, which you happily do.

The two of you go through the mall, occasionally popping into another store. Before getting to the food court, you stopped in front of Victoria’s Secret. Getting an idea, you bite your lip to stop from grinning and turn to look at Chase.

“You know Build-A-Bear?”

“Yeah.” Chase nodded, soon perking up. “Oh my gosh, we should go and make mini us’s.” You couldn’t help but smile at the idea and his excitement.

“I was thinking something similar to that.” You say, looking at the store, yourself, and then back to Chase. “More of a… real-life Build-A-Bear.”

Despite being a genius, it took Chase a minute to realize what you were insinuating. But when he did, he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Really?” He asked. You nodded, and the next thing you knew, Chase was running into the store with the excitement of a child.

Before you left the mall, you did end up going to the real Build-A-Bear.

If you like getting your nails done, he insists on paying

When you let him pick the color, he gets all giggly

Almost always chooses blue tbh

When he chooses the color, you ask for his initial on one of your fingers to surprise him

“Hey!” Chase greeted you as he entered the salon. Whenever he dropped you off, he’d always pick something up for you after your appointment and would come back right when you were finished.

You met him at the counter, where he gave your nail tech his card before looking at the hand you were holding up for him. He held your hand, smiling as he looked at the nails.

“You got my initial.” He softly cooed, thumb brushing over the white ‘C’ on your ring finger. “So pretty.”

You blushed as he kissed your knuckles, taking his card back before leading you out of the salon by your now interlocked hands. Even though Chase had treated you like this since the beginning of your relationship, and you should’ve been used to it, he never failed to turn you into a giggly, bashful mess.

“I got your favorite,” Chase said when you got in the car, handing you the bag of food. You took a bite, moaning at how delicious it was.

“Ugh, I love you.” You said, grabbing his face with a freshly manicured hand and kissing him. He gently latched onto your wrist, thumb rubbing over the joint.

“I love you too.” He said, stealing another kiss before reaching over to steal some of your food.

#agaypanic #chase davenport x reader #chase davenport #chase davenport headcanons #chase davenport x reader headcanons #lab rats x reader #lab rats

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katyaromanoffpetrova · 6 months

Text

The only fool on April Fools'

Natasha thought she came up with the best prank ever. But she forgot exactly who she was trying to prank.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 2.7k • Warnings: suggestive talk Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

A/N: a late birthday post from me :)

2028

Natasha could not stop looking at her hands on the steering wheel. More specifically, she couldn't stop looking at her nails. Every time they caught her eye when she went to change the song on the radio or flick her blinker, the smuggest smirk took over her entire face.

She'd been thinking long and hard about this year's prank. April Fools' Day was a serious occasion for her and Katya, a holiday they planned for for months. It started in 2010 when Natasha had been brave enough to prank her girlfriend at the time, and it developed from there. The only rule they had was that the pranks shouldn't be too humiliating. Just funny. So there was a lot of creative freedom.

This year, she really nailed it. It was hilarious. She was hilarious, and Katya was going to be so pissed. She thought Natasha had just gone to get a haircut, but she'd be getting the worst surprise of her life when she showed her what she'd actually been doing in the city.

Was it cruel? Yes. But Katya replaced all the Oreo cookie filling with toothpaste last year. Natasha's Oreo cookies. And she filled a donut with mayo. So Natasha wanted to let her feel that same pain. Only more subtly.

When she walked into the house, pushing her smirk aside for the sake of the prank, the smell of cake filled her nostrils. It smelled delicious, like chocolate and butter. A special recipe that Katya had been meaning to try. Too bad that Natasha wouldn't be eating a single piece of it, considering there was probably salt in it instead of sugar, but at least she knew where to find her darling wife.

Prepared to feel incredibly smug and pleased, she strolled into the kitchen. Katya stood with her back turned, softly singing a song as she mixed something with the handheld electronic mixer. The noise drowned out the sound of Natasha's footsteps, so she didn't hear her come in. It only prolonged the excitement. "Smells good in here."

Katya jumped, quickly turning off the mixer. "Oh. Hi, baby!" An adoring smile spread across her lips as she turned around. Natasha almost felt bad for her upcoming prank. Almost. "Let me see your hair." A crease formed between her brows as she studied Natasha's long red locks. "It doesn't look any different," she said carefully, as if she was afraid to offend her new haircut.

Natasha smiled sheepishly, glancing down at her hands. "Yeah, well, you know… I was planning on getting my hair done, but then I passed a nail salon, and, well…" Instead of explaining, she simply brought her hands up, holding her nails out for Katya to see.

When the nail stylist asked her what shape she wanted, Natasha told her to go for the pointest, most stabby looking nail she could do, and she hadn't disappointed. Two inches long, all of them ended in a point that could seriously poke somebody's eye out. The deep red color and the black details turned them into the sexiest murder weapons she'd ever had. The sexiest, most inconvenient weapons ever. They were lowkey homophobic.

She saw the different emotions cross Katya's face one by one. Excitement, at first. Probably because she was happy Natasha spoiled herself, or she liked the nails. Then hesitation. Then realization. Then anger, which manifested with a slight twitch of her brows. And lastly…

Actually, Natasha couldn't decipher the emotion that slid over the anger. It was like Katya mentally paused before she could get really angry, and then decided on a different course. All of it happened within a second. Her brain was just that fast at assessing a situation.

An excited gasp flew from her lips. "They look so good, honey!" Katya exclaimed, carefully taking Natasha's hands in her own to see her nails better. "The design is so simple yet so elegant. It really suits you!"

Natasha inwardly frowned, her smugness plummeting. This was not the reaction she had been hoping for. Not by miles. But she wasn't giving up yet. "What do you think about the length?" She smiled, mirroring Katya's excitement. "I wanted to go even longer, but I've never had nails before so I didn't want to overdo it."

"No, I love it! It suits your hand shape really well."

To Natasha's even bigger surprise, Katya let her hands go to grab her cheeks instead, pulling her close to press a sweet kiss to her lips. Her blue eyes sparkled joyfully. "I'm so glad you treated yourself to something nice. You deserve it."

Then she turned around and went back to making the icing for her cake.

Natasha stood there, lost, wondering how this had gone completely the opposite way of how she wanted. Katya was supposed to be upset, asking her what she was thinking, getting long ass nails as a woman in a lesbian relationship. With those weapons on her fingers, she could not use them for her favorite activity whatsoever.

But instead of getting pissed, Katya got the opposite. She happily sang, swaying her body as she finished mixing her icing. Not a care in the world.

Natasha's prank had dramatically failed.

"Look how good this looks." Katya suddenly turned around, a big scoop of chocolate icing on her pointer finger. Slowly, she brought it to her lips, sucking her finger into her mouth and pulling it out. "Hmm, so good," she moaned.

The very bottom part of Natasha's stomach twisted into knots. She couldn't find her words as she watched Katya lick off the icing in a way that was incredibly sensual. And not by accident.

''Yep, that's done!" She beamed. Katya covered the bowl with some foil and put it in the fridge, happily twirling around to a still frozen Natasha. ''I'm going to lift some weights. Could use a spotter.''

''I—'' Natasha mentally slapped herself, swallowing thickly. ''Sure.''

Katya perked up. ''Okay. Give me a minute to change.''

She wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what those nails meant. It meant her wife was an ass. An ass who didn't want to get laid for a few weeks, apparently.

Her first instinct was to get pissed. Get pissed at Natasha for partly ruining their sex life. Because while they owned many replacements, Natasha's fingers would always be her favorite, and they were not going up there looking like that.

But then Katya realized that getting angry was exactly what her wife was after. And what better way to ruin a prank by pretending not to see it? In fact, she was going to throw Natasha's own prank right back at her, make her miserable. Show her that getting these nails would come back to bite her in the ass. Fast.

Nobody messed with her.

Choosing her smallest sports bra and tightest cycling shorts, Katya threw her hair up and returned to Natasha. The woman seemed to be disoriented, or at least deep in thought. She was in the exact spot Katya left her ten minutes earlier, frowning at the countertop. When she did look up, Katya purposely flexed her biceps as she tightened her ponytail, drawing Natasha's gaze directly to her arms.

Her green eyes darkened as they took in Katya's figure. Everything that wasn't bare skin was skin-tight. And while her body didn't look the way it did when she was twenty-four—duh—Natasha still thought it was hot as hell. She wanted to grab it, bend it over the counter—

''Earth to Nat.''

Natasha rapidly blinked, pulling her head out of the clouds. ''Hm?''

Katya had a huge grin on her face that she tried to hide. ''I said; are you coming?''

''Oh, yes.''

She didn't even try to not stare at Katya's ass as the brunette walked in front of her. It was right there, shaking in those spandex shorts. The urge to grab it and press her nails—oh. With a frown, Natasha looked down at her pointy nails. She couldn't grab Katya's butt and press the top of her nails down at the same time.

''Hmm…'' Katya stopped in the doorframe of the garage—their home gym. ''What do you reckon I should do first?''

''Ass.'' Natasha was just in time to bring her gaze upwards when Katya spun around, staring straight into her raised eyebrow. Her cheeks heated up when she realized what her half-horny brain had thrown out. ''I meant squats.''

''Squats it is.'' Katya smiled.

Even the process of setting it all up drove Natasha up the wall. To get the weights on the bar, Katya had to lift them, and because she barely wore a shirt, her back, shoulder, and arm muscles visibly flexed for Natasha to see. Her hands itched, but she suspected Katya was playing a game, and she wasn't going to give in.

They both weren't going to give in. So it was going to be a game of who can hold out the longest.

If things progressed this way, Natasha was one hundred percent sure she was going to lose.

''Okay.'' Katya excessively bent over to put her resistance band down. She'd warmed her muscles—doing some very deep deep squats—and secured her ponytail once more. ''I'm ready.''

Natasha knew it was going to be a mistake when she stepped behind Katya. She knew she was digging her own grave. The brunette pressed her ass into her front and flexed her muscles way more than necessary as she adjusted her grip on the bar resting on her shoulders. Natasha clenched her jaw to keep still and quiet, but the frustration started to build.

Down Katya went for the first squat, pausing a few seconds before she went up again. Natasha squatted along with her, forcing herself to pay attention to the bar and only the bar. She wondered if she could even close her hands around it in case Katya needed her help. Those damn claws of her were probably in the way.

She was about to breathe out in relief when Katya didn't pull any stunts on the way up.

Then she let out the sexiest grunt ever.

Natasha nearly collapsed through her knees. Dirty memories of times where Katya grunted like that flashed through her head. Half an hour of teasing and she was on the very edge of damning it all to hell. Screw her dignity. She wanted something else to screw, and fast.

Down, Katya went again, audibly breathing out as she went down, and grunting when she straightened up. Down, breathing out. Up, grunting.

Three times, Natasha kept herself together with great difficulty. On the forth grunt, her sexual frustration snapped.

''Put it down.''

Katya smirked to herself. She expected her wife to keep it together a bit longer, but obviously her plan was working. ''What? Why? I've just started,'' she said innocently, pretending to be extremely confused the same way she'd been pretending to be stupid.

''Put the thing down.''

Carefully, Katya racked the bar, furrowing her brows as she turned to face the fuming redhead. Before she could blink, Natasha had her pinned against one of the squat rack's poles. She felt all that frustration in the way her spine bumped against the metal. ''What's going on?'' Her eyes widened like that of a deer in headlights.

''Stop playing dumb.''

''Playing dumb?''

Natasha took one good look at her and knew she wasn't going to give in. Katya could play the innocent persona as long as she wished to, no matter what threat Natasha would sling at her head. Torture training as a kid clearly worked better for her. The only thing she had to do was grunt a bit and Natasha was a goner.

A groan of frustration filled the garage. This was cruelty in the most ruthless way. Dangling the richest, most tasteful, most expensive wine in front of an alcoholic but not letting them have a taste. Collecting all her self-control, Natasha backed away, stalking off without so much as another word.

Katya snickered proudly, smirking as she turned back to the squat rack. Her plan was going amazingly so far. These weren't the only tricks up her sleeve.

The torture continued throughout the day. She was doing the dishes? She accidentally got the front of her shirt all wet, and didn't happen to wear a bra. The dinner table needed a good clean? She was bent all over that thing trying to get the spots in the middle. She was vacuuming? She was on her hands and knees on the floor trying to vacuum underneath the couch.

Wherever Natasha went, she also miraculously had to be. The redhead could not escape her. It was torture training. But in a way she'd never been tortured before.

The weapons on her hands had gone from ''the funniest things ever'' to ''I'm going to rip my whole nail off if it means I get to stuff my hand down her pants''. She couldn't take it anymore. Sexual frustration built and built until her stomach was in a permanent knot and her hands were constantly sweaty.

Two hours before Maya was meant to be coming home, Natasha couldn't take it anymore. The groans, grunts, and sighs, and the positions Katya bent her body in finally pushed her over the edge.

Fine, her wife had won. But taking a hit to her ego and pride was worth it if she could finally get her hands between those legs.

She didn't even bother soaking her nails off. She simply took nail cutters to them and cut them all off as short as possible. Then she filed them down roughly, paying extra attention to the middle three fingers of her left hand, and tossed everything in the trash.

Katya heard her coming from miles away, her rushed footsteps before Natasha cornered her in the laundry room. She saw them immediately; her nails. Or the lack thereof.

Concerned, she dropped a t-shirt back in the laundry basket, trying to reach for her hands. ''Oh, no, what did you do to your nails?''

But Natasha wasn't taking this innocent bullshit anymore. ''You drive me absolutely nuts. You pest,'' she grumbled. Her voice lacked serious anger as she slowly backed Katya up against the washing machine. Instead, it was laced with reluctant defeat and annoyance. Annoyance at herself.

A sly smile overtook Katya's features as she gripped the edge of the machine for stability. It looked like her wife had been through it. ''Ready to admit you made a mistake then?''

''I hate you.''

Katya chuckled softly. ''You dug your own grave, babe. Worst prank ever. Well, for you then. It was so much fun for me.'' She smirked teasingly as she slowly trailed her fingers up Natasha's arm. The game was still going on. Even now. The glare Natasha sent her was weak at most. ''Don't forget who you're messing with.''

Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning forward to connect their lips, thinking this was it. But Katya jerked her head back, amusement swimming in her eyes.

''Nuh-uh. Say it.''

''Say it?'' The redhead grumbled impatiently, seconds away from throwing a fit.

Katya nodded smugly, her fingers slowly trailing down Natasha's arm. ''I need to hear it. I…''

Natasha clenched her teeth together to swallow back the vile words and accusations that Katya would only laugh at. She didn't think she would be this cruel, giving her dignity another slap in the face by making her vocally admit her mistake like a child. Unfortunately, Natasha didn't have another option.

She squinted her eyes, placing as much displeasure in her words as she could. ''I made a mistake thinking I could outsmart my mean, cruel wife.''

Happy, Katya grinned, grabbing Natasha's hips to pull them flush against her own. This victory tasted sweeter than her chocolate cake downstairs. She won April Fools'. And she didn't even have to do anything for it. ''You know, it's really not my fault you get so riled up.''

Natasha usually loved to bicker, but she couldn't take it anymore. Her gaze kept drifting down from Katya's eyes to her lips when she talked, and if she wouldn't get her mouth or hands on her body right this instant, she was going to explode. ''Respectfully, shut up. You had your fun, now it's time for mine.''

''Yeah, those nails aren't going up there looking like that.''

#katandnat #katyaromanoffpetrova #forgotten ghost series #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!oc #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #black widow #marvel #mcu #wlw #lesbian #sapphic #natasha romanoff fluff

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 years

Text

Grays

Frankie Morales x f!reader

{ Grays Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Grays Part II }

Rating: M

Summary: Frankie wants you to cover up his grays. You want to knock some sense into his salt-and-pepper head.

Warnings: Insecure Frankie in need of self-love comes with his own warning, Reader is a hairstylist and has a related nickname, no physical descriptions other than that Reader has hair that can be dyed, not-quite-friends to *respectfully looking* dynamics, mentions of hair, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, sexual innuendos, lots of teasing and banter.

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: The origin story is here if you missed it. This is dedicated to my Frankie soul sister LJ @prolix-yuy who encouraged me to write this many months ago ❤️ As always, I’m an anxious mess writing for a new-to-me Pedro boy, so please be gentle with me (cos it's my birthday week) 🥺

I have a part 2 (with smut) in mind. I love where this leaves off, but who am I kidding. I probably won’t be able to help myself 😂

The bell on the door chimes with a sweet tinkle, cutting through the low, insistent purr of the hair clipper buzzing in your grasp. You don’t look up as you spy broad shoulders and a battered Standard Heating Oil cap crossing the threshold out of the corner of your eye.

‘Are you lost, Morales?’ you drawl indifferently, focused on the task at hand. ‘I have an appointment with Pope today, not you.’

‘He booked it under his name. Thought you’d take it as a prank if I called in myself.’

You look up to meet his gaze reflected in the mirror sitting in front of Greg, your current customer. ‘I wonder why he’d think that.’

Frankie shrugs, leaning against the reception counter with his arms crossed. ‘Beats me.’

You snort. ‘Really? You’ve insisted loudly and repeatedly for as long as I’ve known you that you don’t see the point of going to a hairstylist when you can have Pope cut your hair with kitchen scissors in his bathtub.’

‘C’mon, Shiv.’

‘Oh, he knows my name,’ you gasp sarcastically. You turn to Greg, who’s clearly amused by this exchange, and loop him in. ‘He usually just grunts at me.’

At this point, Ashton - your apprentice and all-round salon maverick - makes an appearance. Clearly having caught the tail-end of your conversation with Frankie, he glances between the two of you with an arched eyebrow. ‘Are we back to chasing customers away, boss?’

‘Sit his ass down but he doesn’t get a free drink,’ you instruct. ‘I’ll get to him when I get to him.’

Ashton goes ahead and ignores your orders point blank, per usual. After hanging up Frankie’s jacket and settling him at the station furthest away from you in the far corner of the salon, you see him sneakily give him a coffee. He can never resist the handsome ones.

You take your sweet time with Greg, cleaning up his sideburns, even though you’re basically done with him - just to tick off your waiting customer.

Not that it works, and you know it won’t. He just sits there, his wide frame filling up the chair, still as a rock. The dog-eared, months-old magazines strategically placed on the table for idle reading lie untouched. That’s Francisco Morales for you.

You’ve been orbiting each other since sixth grade, as all kids in your close-knit neighbourhood do. In fact, most of your customers went to your school.

You don’t even remember how it started - probably at a sleepover - you discovered one day that you’re handy with box hair dye. By freshman year, you were colouring your fellow classmates’ hair in the girls’ toilets after school, earning enough pocket money to keep your cabinet at home fully-stocked with new hair products on rotation.

Your ever-changing hair colour got you into trouble with the headmaster more times than you can count, who nicknamed you Shape Shifter. Your friends abbreviated it to Shifter, then over the years, whittled it down to Shiv, and it stuck.

After being gifted a set of styling scissors for Christmas one year, you started hanging out at the neighbourhood salon, hustling for an apprenticeship. You practised what you observed on your fellow students, giving out haircuts on the bleachers on non-game days for a couple of dollars (the fee waived if something went disastrously wrong).

That’s how you first met Benny - his then cheerleader girlfriend took him in for a haircut when it got too long for her liking. When you eventually opened your own salon years later, he was your first paying customer, having come home after being honourably discharged from the army.

During the early days, when you struggled to fill your appointments and he couldn’t win a fight to save his life, you made a pact. You would do his hair at a heavy discount for his posters and promotions, and in return, he would let you use his photos for the salon’s marketing.

And it worked. Well, not that you had anything to do with him turning his fortunes around on the MMA circuit, but he had everything to do with getting customers through your door. It only got busier when Santi joined the ranks a couple of years later, and even though Will only shows up when his hair gets really unruly, they both sit in front of your camera with no complaint in return for mate’s rates.

Having these guys on your salon’s social media keeps both the gents and the ladies booking up your appointments.

Frankie Morales, though, is a different animal.

When you finally appear over his left shoulder, his coffee is all gone and he meets your eyes in the mirror nonchalantly. He’s leaning his whole weight on his right elbow on the armest, his left arm outstretched and blunt nails tapping on the table, the only hint of impatience he’s giving away.

He’s good at that - he’s the laid-back one out of the boys, the one who hangs back and observes with arms crossed, but quick to crack a grin and throw in a wicked barb when the occasion calls for it. Nothing ever seems to faze him, and probably nothing does - you hear that makes a good pilot, and from what Pope lets on, he’s a damn good one.

It also makes for highly effective bait for the ladies. He’s a popular fixture on the local bar scene - let’s face it, all of the boys are. You’ve seen him in action more than once when Benny or Pope invites you along on a night out, more often than not without Will since he had a baby girl with his high school sweetheart last year. Frankie’s brooding, quiet, beer-sipping act often works better than Benny’s over-the-top flirting or Pope’s Casanova bit.

But that’s neither here nor there.

Hands on your hips, you goad him, ‘Alright Morales, how do I know you’ll pay up, you cheap bastard?’

‘Pope says to put it on his tab.’

‘Music to my ears.’ You tap him on the shoulder. ‘Sit up and off with the cap.’

With a grumble, Frankie lifts the cap up by the beak, ducking his head as he does so. He tosses it onto the table offhandedly and shifts in his seat, but you’re not fooled by his unconvincing air of indifference. From the way he plasters his palms to the top of his denim-clad thighs, as if to stop them from fidgeting, you know he’s feeling vulnerable.

You can’t say you’ve ever seen Frankie without his headgear - now that you think about it, he’s been wearing it since high school. Heck, he might have gone through several incarnations of that blasted hat in the years in between. You’ve caught glimpses when he lifts it up to fix his hair, but otherwise, all you see is what peeks out from underneath, the longer wisps that coil around his ears and the curls at the back.

As it turns out, there’s really nothing to hide - sure, the cut is blunt and his hair lacks shine, but both can be easily fixed. You step into his space and comb through his locks, starting at the base of his skull and working your way up the sides.

The contact startles him - he practically jumps out of his skin, and you don’t miss the way the veins on the back of his hands pop and he digs his nails into his legs.

'Easy, boy,' you soothe with a teasing undertone, earning yourself a glower from the pilot. As much as you enjoy needling him, you do want your customers to be comfortable. So you let slip a deliberate but genuinely appreciative hum as the dark tendrils, subtly tinged with grays, part softly at your prying fingertips. ‘Wow, your curls are really thick.'

He looks up, an unsure frown on his brow. ‘Oh. Is that bad?’

‘No, Morales, it’s definitely a compliment,’ you tell him encouragingly - your bark has always been worse than your bite. ‘What do you use to wash your hair? It’s a bit dry.’

He shrugs. ‘Shampoo.’ At your insistent stare, he snaps, ‘What?’

‘Don’t lie to me, Morales,’ you warn him in a stern voice.

He huffs and gives in. ‘Fine. It’s a 2-in-1 body wash. I get it at the gas station, happy?’

You shoot him a smug grin as he rolls his eyes. ‘Well, you’re using proper shampoo from now on, and conditioner.’ He opens his mouth, a complaint on the tip of his tongue, when you hold a finger up at him. ‘Don’t argue with me, mister. I’ll throw in a couple of bottles on the house to get you started.’

‘Fine,’ he concedes. Unfailingly polite even when grumpy, he adds, ‘Thanks, Shiv.’

Your trusty swivelling stool screeches in protest when you drag it over on its wheels, before you take a seat and address the elephant in the room. ‘So - I’m guessing you’re here because of the wedding.’

You get a grunt in response. Scratching a particularly scrappy patch of his beard that has turned prematurely silver, he says, ‘My ma says I should cover up my old man grays for it.’

You snort, shaking your head. ‘Ha! And you tell your mother I say - hell no, ma’am! I will do no such thing.’

Frankie blinks at your unexpectedly adamant response. ‘What?’

‘I said, hell no,’ you repeat. Turning his head to the side with two fingers on his stubbled cheek, you comb his locks upwards to study the way the grays blend in softly with the umber, matching the ashen flecks in his beard. He doesn't start as badly at your touch this time, but there’s a telltale tick in his jaw, and you can almost hear the tension that thrums just below his skin where a late summer tan still lingers.

‘See how your grays are mainly coming out on the underside?’ you point out. ‘I like the way they just peek through the brown, it gives more depth to your curls. Natural highlights, if you will.’

He looks unconvinced and swipes at a smattering of silver with dismissive fingers. ‘Dunno. Thought the grays make me look old.’

You chuckle. ‘You’re no spring chicken anymore, Morales, and I mean it in a good way. Grays are natural - they will look even better when you start using actual shampoo and conditioner. Trust me, the salt and pepper works on you. I’m not dyeing your grays, and that’s that.’

For the first time today, Frankie turns his head and looks directly into your eyes. ‘My mother’s coming back to town for the wedding, you know. And she remembers where you live.’

You laugh. ‘Go ahead and send her my way, you know I’m not scared of her.’

He scoffs at your big talk. ‘You should be.’

Your relationship with the Morales matriarch is complicated, to say the least. She was always hard on you when you were a kid, thinking you were too wild and undisciplined. Now that you’re grown, you’re still torn between your admiration for her as a single mother who raised a good man, and the woman who never tires of dishing out criticism, warranted or not.

You give him a reassuring pat on the back, solid and warm under your touch. ‘Leave your mother to me, Morales. The grays stay, and I’ll make sure you steal the show at the party.’

‘Your funeral,’ he quips.

‘You just worry about getting yourself to the wedding,’ you retort, cracking your knuckles. ‘Now, are you ready for some pampering?’

Frankie rolls his eyes, but you see the corner of his mouth tick up in a vaguely upward direction - and you take it as a win.

‘Relax, Morales.’

‘I am relaxed,’ he insists through gritted teeth.

‘You’re about as relaxed as a cow on the butcher’s block. Unclench.’

For someone as economical with words as he is, his body certainly says a lot. Every single part of him seems hellbent on making his discomfort known. He breathes a frustrated exhale through his nose, brow deeply furrowed, his glare burning holes into the ceiling.

The leather seat of the backwash barely contains his tall build, his t-shirt stretched to the seams across his chest as he leans back into the basin. He’s bouncing his left leg irritably, the tight denim straining against his lap.

You try - valiantly - not to gape too obviously at the conspicuous bulge nestled snugly between his thighs under his belt buckle. But you can’t avert your eyes from something of that size. It’s against the laws of physics. Or something.

Even from where you’re standing, at the top of the basin peering down the slope of his body, its heft is clearly testing the structural integrity of the zipper of his jeans. Imagine the view from the other side -

Clearing your throat, you bodily press down on Frankie’s shoulders which are coiled up like the hood of an angry python, forcing them to loosen up. He jerks as if he’s a copper wire and you’re electricity. You tease, ‘So sensitive. You act like you’ve never felt a woman’s touch before, Morales.’

‘You know that’s not true,’ he growls at you, the prominent vein in his neck starting to pulse in frustration.

‘No, you’re right - I do know,’ you smirk, dragging out your syllables.

Your tone has him frowning at you, upside down. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I mean - I know,’ you repeat with a conspiratorial wink.

He narrows his eyes at you. ‘What do you know, Shiv?’

You wriggle his eyebrows at him suggestively, enjoying yourself far too much. ‘I own a salon, Morales. I hear things from the ladies about town.’

One large palm reaches up to shield his face in embarrassment, a pained groan escaping between the gaps of his fingers. ‘For fuck’s sake - kill me now.’

You laugh, wrestling his hand from his face to with an impish grin. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve only heard good things so far - Frankie big boy Morales.’

He blushes so hard that his ears and neck go a livid red, and for a minute, you’re actually worried that he’d pass out from not enough blood reaching his heart. Not keen on the prospect of having to explain to the emergency services that you teased the poor man into an aneurysm, you turn on the water and cut short your little chinwag with a good-natured chuckle.

His hands are still tightly clamped around the armrest when you carefully run the shower head along his hairline and behind his ears, soaking his curls. His biceps flex from the tight grip and the lean muscles strain against the sleeves of his t-shirt.

At least he closes his eyes when you start with the shampoo. The velvety lather froths as you patiently wash his hair, which clings to his wet curls like vanilla frosting. The deep crease between his brows eases with each gentle swipe into his locks, and the invisible force pulling his lips downwards slackens. By the time you rinse out the bubbles, you don’t miss the way the tension in his body unwittingly goes with it down the drain.

When your nails slide slickly into his hair with the conditioner, his stubborn body finally, slowly unfurls. His head tips back of its own accord, baring the column of his strong neck as he leans inadvertently into your touch. Colour returns to his knuckles when he releases his death grip on the backwash.

You smile to yourself, scraping your fingertips along his scalp in a firm massage, watching his chest rise and fall as he teeters on the brink of consciousness.

As your thumbs trace a confident path down the back of his skull, they appear to find a particularly sensitive spot near the base of his neck, and it's as if a switch is flipped. You witness the exact moment he breaks - his back arches off the leather seat, his obstinate lips part with a strangled half-sigh catching in his throat as he yields his full weight into the palm of your hands.

If you're not careful, you could get used to this.

‘Still with me, Morales?’ you tease quietly.

He garbles incoherently, and you grin.

Frankie practically molds into the chair like warm wax when you shepherd him back to the styling station. You’re so chuffed with yourself that you don’t even feel the need to gloat at the way his eyes are glazed over and how his head lolls into the soft pressure when you run a fluffy towel through his hair. The man recoiling at the mere brush of your fingers a distant memory.

You run an assessing eye over him, brushing out his locks to gauge your game plan. ‘I like this length on you, so I’ll just trim the split ends and tidy up your sideburns. You’ll benefit from some layering too - it’s a bit heavy on top right now.’

From the way he blinks owlishly at you, you know he doesn’t catch a single word. He shrugs and says matter-of-factly. ‘You can’t do worse than Pope.’

The salon is quiet this afternoon, as it tends to be on Wednesdays. You let him enjoy the peace for a little bit and tap your foot to Ashton’s playlist as your styling scissors move over his curls in metallic snips.

‘Tip your head forward for me,’ you instruct, sliding around the back of his head on your wheels as you probe, ‘So - how are you feeling about the wedding?’

The fabric of his t-shirt bunches over his shoulders as they quirk noncommittally.

‘It’s just a few days away.’

He makes an indifferent noise. But you’re not so easily dissuaded from conversation, and he knows it.

‘Can’t be easy - watching your ex get married.’

Frankie pins you with a long-suffering stare in the mirror. ‘We broke up a year ago.’

Getting onto your feet, you ruffle your fingers through the crown of his curls. ‘Yeah, but you dated for years. She sure moved on quick.’

He huffs a sardonic laugh. ‘Thanks, Shiv.’

Swapping out the styling scissors for blending shears, you argue, ‘What? It’s a legitimate observation. I’m just making conversation here.’

‘Or we could just sit here quietly.’

Ha. As if you ever listen to him. You press on, ‘Why did she invite you anyway?’

Frankie’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender as he humours you. ‘It’s a damned if she does, damned if she doesn’t kind of situation, I guess. The whole town’s invited.’

‘You sure she isn’t trying to flaunt it in your face or something?’

‘Flaunting implies I still care. I don’t.’

You give him a juvenile nudge nudge, wink wink. ‘Well, on the bright side, you’ll definitely get laid, being the heartbroken ex and all. Chicks love that shit.’

He dispatches a side-long stare in your direction. ‘I’m not heartbroken, and that’s not why I’m going. And you know none of this is any of your business, right?’

‘You’re no fun,’ you pout.

He quips, ‘As a professional hairstylist, you really should be better at making polite conversation.’

You snort. ‘Do you really think it’s a good idea to call me rude when I have scissors in my hands?’

Frankie watches you work in the comfortable lull that’s settled between you, gliding the blades along strands of his curls pulled taut, before running a fine-toothed comb through to brush out the loose tufts. Soft coils land on the floor around his chair as you work your way methodically through his layers.

‘Are you going to the wedding?’ he asks eventually.

You shrug. ‘Maybe, depends on my schedule. I gotta say, I’m kind of curious to see how tacky it will be.’

At his eyebrow sternly cocked, you argue, ‘I know she’s your ex and all, but she’s always been a bit tacky. I mean, that remodel of your house was just tragic.’

Frankie frowns. ‘How do you know all this? You’ve never been to my house.’

You wink. ‘Benny tells me everything when I do his hair.’

He pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘Of course. Benjamin fucking Miller.’

You give him a pat on the shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, I’m on your side, if it helps.’

‘I don’t need you on my side.’

You flash him an insufferable grin. ‘Too bad, Francisco. I am and there’s nothing you can do about it.’

The hairdryer drowns out any further conversation, and Frankie quietly studies you as you cord your fingers through his hair, ruffling it as it dries.

It’s still a bit damp when you switch off the hairdryer and reach up to pull a couple of jars from the shelf above. ‘On the day of the wedding, I want you to wash your hair just before you style it. You have a hairdryer at home, right?’

He throws you a pointed look. ‘I’m not a heathen.’

You grin. ‘Down boy, just checking. Now, you’ll dry your hair until it’s still a bit wet, like so.’ Presenting the styling mousse to him, you say, ‘Then go on and grab some product - you only need a dollop.’

He dips his index finger into the pot, scooping up a generous blob. Your attention is unexpectedly piqued at the sight of his hands.

Have they always been so big?

Realising he’s staring at you in wait, you shake yourself out of it. ‘Ok, rub the mousse onto your fingertips and run them all over your hair, combing from root to end.’

Frankie does as he’s told, face set to a serious scowl as he impeccably goes over each section of his locks, staring into the mirror to make sure he gets every strand. For the first time, you see the pilot in him up close, and you wonder if he’s this thorough about other things, like -

Laundry, your mind interrupts as it careens on the brink of the metaphorical gutter. Get your shit together, Shiv.

‘Good,’ you smile when he’s done, hoping he doesn't see the strain in it. ‘Now, I want you to rake your fingers through the roots when you dry your hair all the way.’ In demonstration, your nails burrow into the base of his thick hair, then you wriggle your fingers upwards towards the ends. ‘It will give you lots of volume and really show off this cut.’

Passing him the hairdryer, you watch him critically in the mirror. He imitates your movements, a bit clumsily and far too cautiously. Leaning down to his ear so he can hear you over the whir, you instruct him, ‘Don’t be gentle, Francisco. C’mon, harder, deeper - don’t hold back.’

He chokes and pins you with a wide-eyed stare in the mirror that glances right off your oblivious self. Along with your words, nothing about this exchange would register in your head in any other way until much, much later tonight, when you replay the conversation in your head in that limbo between sleep and wakefulness.

It may or may not have you squealing into your pillow in latent embarrassment - and something else.

But for now, you’re happy with the way his hair has set, and you gesture for him to switch off the hairdryer. Turning his chair towards you and away from the mirror, you scan your eyes over him and make small adjustments - tucking a couple of strands behind his ear here, a couple of final snips there.

As a final touch, you bury your fingers into his locks, dragging your fingertips through the roots to impart a final tousle so that the curls are loose and soft. You preen at the way he sways into your contact, all shyness gone, his hooded eyes half-closed - before he seems to catch himself and sits up with a self-conscious ahem.

Grabbing a small bottle from the shelf, you say, ‘Last thing - your beard is a bit dry as well. This oil will keep it nice and moisturised, just two or three drops after you wash up in the morning will do.’

Tipping his face up by the crook of your finger and opening up his neck to you, you smooth the ointment along both sides of his jaw, rubbing circles into his neatly trimmed whiskers and all the way up his sideburns. Sliding downwards, your hands seek out the closely shaved stubble tucked beneath his chin. Then, by sheer momentum, your palms continue down his throat in a slow, sticky descent, until the pads of your thumbs slot into the hollow between his collarbones, your fingers resting at the base of his neck where you feel his pulse rabbiting underneath.

The air thickens and shifts between you. When he swallows, you feel the ripple of the moment against your fingertips.

His eyes are on you, and suddenly he’s too close, his skin too hot under your hands. To your horror, something akin to shyness rears its head and you almost stumble backwards to put a safe distance between you.

Scrubbing the oily residue from your hands on a towel, you break the moment with a wink and a steadier smile than you actually feel. ‘You look good, Morales. Ready to take a look?’

‘As if you would take no for an answer,’ he mumbles under his breath. Fondness might be too strong of a word - but you don't think you're imagining the faint trace of amusement in his voice.

With a dramatic ta-da, you spin his chair around with a flourish.

Frankie Morales is obviously not a vain man - he most likely owns five pairs of jeans that he’s worn on rotation for the past fifteen years, his t-shirts are washed ragged, and his trusty leather boots have seen better days. He probably doesn’t use a mirror other than for purely utilitarian purposes, like checking if there’s something stuck in his teeth from his last meal.

But right now, by the way he’s holding his breath as he meets his own eyes in the reflection, you can tell that he’s really looking at himself for the first time in a long while.

You pretend to busy yourself with tidying up the styling station as you discreetly sneak glances at him, feeling strangely bashful for intruding in this moment. When he remembers to breathe again, he tilts his head left then to the right, and back again, even swivelling his chair from side to side so he can peer round the back.

You’ve parted his waves to the side, the lighter cut allowing his curls to carry their natural shape. The healthy sheen, courtesy of the mousse, tempers his grays to a softer, burnt silver that catches the light fetchingly as he moves. Reaching up, Frankie pushes back a stray curl that falls over his eyes, and his back straightens in a quiet show of confidence.

Running a salon is hard work and often thankless. But on days like this? You know you’re meant to do this.

A dramatic gasp draws both of your attention. Ashton is clutching at his chest, backed up against the neighbouring styling station, gaping at Frankie. ‘Mister - you look good enough to devour. Look at that salt and pepper, I’m living for the grays. Doing the Lord’s work, Shiv!’

You laugh as Frankie flushes, scratching an invisible itch on his forehead. You brush the loose hairs off his shoulders with a towel and give him a nudge. ‘See? I’m not the only one who thinks you look good with the grays. You better stock up on the condoms, Morales, the ladies will be all over you at the party.’

He shakes his head self-deprecatingly as he stands up, rubbing his palms on his jeans, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. ‘I doubt it, but - thanks. I appreciate this, Shiv.’

He shrugs on his well-loved burnt yellow jacket, the one with the sleeves perpetually folded up above his wrists and grabs his cap. You hold out a paper bag with the free shampoo and conditioner you promised him, throwing in a jar of hair mousse for good measure. ‘You’re welcome, and you better not put your hat on again this afternoon after all that hard work.’

His fingers brush yours when he takes the bag from you, then, as if it’s the logical next thing to do, he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your right cheek, his stubble coarse against your skin - and you know without looking it’s the gray patch in his beard that brushes against your jaw as he draws back. You fumble, feeling heat prickle the back of your neck and blooming in your rib cage.

He flashes you the most self-assured smile you’ve seen on him this afternoon, which has you biting your bottom lip. ‘I won’t. Maybe see you at the wedding, Shiv.’

It takes you five full seconds to regain motor functions. By the time you unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, Frankie’s already out of the door with a spring in his step.

In companionable silence, you and Ashton watch the pilot strut - because that’s what he’s doing, he’s strutting with a confidence that becomes him - across the road through the glass front of the salon.

‘What a dish,’ Ashton sighs dreamily, flopping into a chair as if his limbs have given out. ‘I hope he comes back soon.’

You smile. A girl could always hope.

Notes: It's the first time I'm using a nickname for a Reader, but I have a real soft spot for Shiv, and I think she deserves one. I'm not sure where the fandom stands on this, does it disqualify the fic as a reader insert? If anyone has an issue with this, please let me know! For me, Shiv has no physical descriptions so to me she's still a reader insert.

I don't know if anyone expected this kind of dynamics between these two, but it's been so much fun to write with a bit of antagonism in the mix. I hope you enjoyed this, reblogs and comments are so, so appreciated as always. Thank you for reading ❤️

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