#self indulgent reblog

[stiffyck]

i need more people to be insane over others very specific aus that are very far from the original. its fun i promise

i need to see more very fanon designs i need to see super specific aus please make the most self indulgent aus and self indulgent designs and please people reblog it i wanna see it i wanna see all of it can we REBLOG MORE ART PLEASE

[fuckyeah-bears]

quick PSA for all the bearotonin lovers: Zionists actually aren’t allowed to enjoy any bear photos i post. k thanks

[nanabbi]

Self Indulgent Hanahaki Erasermic

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[drippyboycunt]

idk i think if i circled the tip with my thumb and teasingly asked if he was getting wet for me, just to have him moan or whimper in response, i'd pass away right there

[laiostoudenn]

I'd give you my heart if you needed it.

[lexisweird]

𓎟𓎟 　 ❜ ₊ would you rather

dissociate for the rest of your life ?

reqs open ! open dm

about . . .

uhm . . . so my name is lexi , i am a minor , i use she / any , i speak english and spanish and I usually do graphics out of boredom so thats it ! i dont know what else say about me , uhm ? ? ?

what i do . . .

i do graphics of most of sources , like idv , prjsk , hello charlotte , ghosts and pals , disney TW , vtubers , sanrio , bandori , enstars , and basically any fandoms with which i am comfortable with! so you can ask freely .

what i dont . . .

sources i am not comfortable with , irl people , and uhm just ask , i guess .

[mangosaurus]

so to finally respond to that poll i made a couple days ago:

in my own ideal scenario (so not what i'm actually expecting out of the show, but simply what i'd personally love to see happen in a universe where benrius is endgame), darius would be the first one to "make a move," i.e. confess. i've seen a couple people point out that ben's pretty impulsive, so it makes sense that he'd be the one to say something, but i think that's what would make darius confessing all the more impactful? darius has always struck me as a deeply emotionally repressed person, and he's undoubtedly had the biggest burden to carry on his shoulders, between repeatedly losing his loved onces and being the person everyone looks to for guidance (despite being the youngest one in the group). this is still true for chaos theory, where brooklynn's dead and darius blames himself for it, although ben might assume something of a co-leader role since he's the one behind the "we're being hunted" conspiracy (and is thus the driving force behind getting the campers back together).

and i like to think, in maturing enough to lead the group, that ben would likewise have enough emotional intelligence to recognize that darius is Not Doing Well. now would not be the time to suddenly dump a love confession on his best friend, especially not when ben's unsure if darius reciprocates (in my mind he's fairly confident that darius doesn't, but i'm a masochist who loves the not-actually-unrequited-love trope). even if darius was in a good place, they have more important things to worry about, considering the whole "there are people out there trying to kill us" subplot. being able to put his own feelings aside as to prioritize the group and, more importantly, darius, would be a huge sign of how much ben's grown, and an equally monumental testament to his unconditional love and care for darius.

so i'd really like to see darius come to his feelings for ben on his own, without anything (or anyone) else to prompt him. i think it'd be particularly interesting to see him grapple with those feelings in the midst of the main plot, too, and how that might collide with his anxiety and his grief. something that jwcc was somewhat lacking was that deep and intimate look into darius's psyche, at least in seasons 4 and 5; i would love to see that explored further in some kind of way. and it'd be so satisfying that if after everything's said and done, once everyone's safe and sound, that darius is able to approach ben with surety—maybe not full confidence, since all of this is so new to him, but with the knowing that his affection for ben is real, that it's worth confessing.

and maybe then, when darius is explaining what ben means to him, how much he's valued their friendship over the years, that ben lets himself take that leap he's only ever dreamed of: a chaste, hasty kiss, as awkward and endearing as his younger self. he jumps back almost immediately, cheeks and jawline growing red in a way that might seem unbecoming of his sharper features if it wasn't one of the prettiest things darius has ever seen. and ben is starting to apologize, probably one of the only times he's outwardly said "sorry" for anything in his life, but darius already has a hand on ben's shoulder, the other cupping his face. and he pulls him back in, because there's nothing to apologize for. this is exactly where he wants to be—where he's always wanted to be, even.

[shoyostar]

i’m talking suits, opening doors for you, holding your heels and carrying you when your feet get tired, flowers + diamond jewelry, BRUNO MARS ENTIRE MF DISCOGRAPHY AND CLASSIC BY MKTO VIBSS!!

[stiffyck]

I already made a post about this but genuinely people should reblog and like even the designs and aus of characters that don't fit the original. Like genuinely. Why don't people do this.

Every time I see something like this it barely has any notes. Why? Why are you all so afraid of going "too far" from the Canon? It's all fanon anyway if you as a fan make it its fanon. Have some fun. Reblog even the more canon separate stuff. I beg of you. It's all still art. The artists are having fun with it.

[97-liners]

he’s like if tofu was a dude

[selfinserttothestars]

Hey can I be cringe for a second?

Kay thanks man

[luvvchu]

Summer themed icons!

♡/⇄ + credit if using

[etherealyoungk]

new intern soonyoung au

pairing: newintern!soonyoung x coworker!reader

summary: new intern soonyoung who's just adorably clumsy and enthusiastic about his new job and you're tasked as the person who'll guide him through his work. so for the next three months, you take him under your wing. he's so cute, he's always behind you like a puppy and it's just so cute. he's so goofy and bubbly yet shy that you can't help but fall for him :(

warnings: fluff

wordcount: 2.7k

a/n: this isn't really written in a set or proper format. i couldn't decide which way to write it so i mixed it up. hopefully, it isn't too confusing.

taglist: @daisycheols @ksyongi @joshuaahong @naaaaafla @yoongyuplace @minhui896 @rubywonu @cutiepatutie13 @yoozuku @hellodefthings

"we have a new intern joining us", our team leader announces. "he's interested in marketing and applied for the marketing and design position so i think it would be best if y/n guides him", he says, making you whip your head up. me? "you're the best person to guide him since that's perfectly your job role here y/n. i'll be counting on you then, he joins us next week", your team leader tells and you can't really say no so you just nod and just pray that you got a nice intern.

it's a new week at work and you head to work, having a busy day ahead of you. you reach office and head to your desk when your coworker chan walks up to you.

"y/n! good morning", you look up and see an unfamiliar face with him. "hi", you say, your eyes glancing over at the man standing next to chan. "this is soonyoung, he's the new intern", chan explains. right, you had completely forgotten about getting an intern. "yeah", you get up, reaching your hand out to shake. "hi! im y/n", you say and the new guy shakes your hand firmly and introduces himself. "i'll be on my way then", chan says as he turns around and walks away.

you look around and luckily the desk opposite yours had been empty for a while so, so he could sit there. "you can sit here and work", you tell, pointing to the empty space next to you and he nods, eagerly taking the spot. "i'll be in charge of you and your work and be guiding you for the three months during your internship here", you explain to soonyoung, who's looking at you with a smile as he nods his head to your words.

"i'm open to work and being useful and i'm grateful for this opportunity!", he tells you enthusiastically with a smile. you're a little taken aback at how enthusiastic and energetic he is, it was different. you've never seen an intern who's been this excited to work, the others were usually nervous or quiet but soonyoung was quite the opposite.

newintern!soonyoung who is so enthusiastic and excited about his job. he's always greeting everyone when he comes to work, announcing his presence loudly. he'd always greet you with a big goofy smile in the morning and you can't help but smile back. soonyoung would always be ready to work and ask what he had to do for the day. he would sit opposite you on the desk since you were assigned to guide him for the next three months. sometimes you'd sneak a few glances at him because he was pretty handsome and cutely charming.

newintern!soonyoung who always manages to catch you off guard because you both were opposites. you're quieter, keeping to yourself most of the time, meanwhile, soonyoung is asking you a million questions about you and work. he was so curious to know many things and would listen intently when you answered. he'd always accompany you and sit with you during lunch break. you often sat alone, wanting some peace but these days soonyoung would come and sit with you, keeping you company. he'd tell you funny stories and a few things about himself. he'd always ask you if you were okay and if your workload was too much, you could pass it on to him and he'd do his best in completing the work and helping you.

newintern!soonyoung who seems to be taking too long to get the copies of a document you needed for a meeting. so you wander down the hall to the printer room, only to find him standing in front of the printer with his brows furrowed. soonyoung tries to read the faded manual for the printer and you're confused. "soonyoung what's taking so long?", you ask. "i can't seem to get the printer to work", he says, looking at the manual and then the machine and then you, a small frown on his face. you take a look and quickly fix the issue. (the plug to the printer was unplugged but you weren't going to tell him that) he smiles when it finally works and soonyoung promises to get you the copies you needed in five minutes.

newintern!soonyoung who would sometimes buy you coffee in the morning, even when you told him he didn't have to. he'd have you order memorized and surprise you with coffee three to four times a week. when you offered to pay him back for the coffee, he'd always decline, saying it was okay and just admired how well you work. he'd say he bought you the coffee because he wanted you to have energy for the day. expect one day when he brings you a coffee, he accidentally trips on a box you had put down with old files and the coffee ends up splashing all over you. he'd be shocked and apologies would be falling from his lips as he plucks a few tissues from the box on the desk as tries to wipe the coffee off you, not realizing how close he is to you. he was pretty much hovering over you as your sat on the chair. he tries to wipe the coffee from your shirt and hands and you try to hide the small flush that creeps up your face. you clear your throat as you tell soonyoung that you'd just go change. luckily you kept a pair of extra clothes in your car.

newintern!soonyoung who'd always tell you to not work late and tell you to clock out on time. he'd bicker, saying if you were staying late, he'd stay too because he was your intern. he'd help you with the work if there was any that required you to stay overtime and you'd treat him to dinner afterward.

newintern!soonyoung who accidentally deleted an important file that was needed for the client meeting today. when the team leader finds out, he'd not happy. you accompany soonyoung to his office where soonyoung gets a scolding but you try to cover for him the best you could. "i'll redo all the creatives immediately", you tell, feeling bad that he was getting scolded because it really wasn't entirely his fault. the pen drive was faulty and the file didn't save but your boss was not going to sit and listen to that.

that night, you stay back late to create all the creatives for the client again, which was needed tomorrow. you don't notice soonyoung enter, only looking up when you see him placing something on the table next to you. "you didn't go home? it's late", you tell, looking up at him. "how can i when you're sitting and redoing all the work because of me", he tells, feeling guilty. "it's not your fault really", you say, trying to console him but he shakes his head. "let me help, please. tell me what can i do", he tells, determined. so you give him a few guidelines and assign him some work. when you're finally done, you sigh and stretch. soonyoung would pay for dinner that evening even if you insisted you would pay. he'd apologize a few more times for making you work late.

and you don't know when you started to fall for him. how could you not? he was so bubbly, shy, cute and so....attractive too. he'd follow you around like a puppy some days when you went for coffee breaks or lunch, eager to tell you something that happened in his life. you tried to ignore your feelings but he made it impossible sometimes. the simple things he did started to make your heart flutter.

newintern!soonyoung who finds you coming to work even though you seem to have caught a nasty cough and weren't feeling too good. he'd frown, saying you should go home but you wouldn't listen and brushed him off, saying you could work. he'd pay extra attention to you that day, making sure you were okay and he'd ask you to take breaks and be attentive to you. he'd bring you hot tea instead of coffee that day and you give him a grateful smile.

"soonyoung, you didn't have to", you say but he only smiles as he tells you to drink the tea before it gets cold. when everyone clocks out for the day, you're still at your desk, completing and making some changes to a few designs for an important meeting tomorrow and you wanted everything to be perfect. soonyoung finds you when he comes to pick up a book he left. he finds you hunched over your desk, asleep.

he'd shrug off his coat and drape it over your body and sit opposite you and wait till you woke up because he didn't want you to be alone or go back home alone at this hour. you finally stir awake ten minutes later and get surprised when you see soonyoung's concerned face in front of you.

"soonyoung? what are you doing here, i thought you went home", you say softly as you get up. "i was worried about you", he replies. "you should be at home resting, not working", he adds, sitting up straighter. "it's okay", you trail off but the thought of resting at home doing nothing was tempting. "let me take you home", he adds, checking the time on his watch. "but i still need to-" "i'll do it for you", he cuts you off. "please", he says and how can you say no when he's so sincere.

so soonyoung is driving you home in your car, even though you insisted you could drive but he didn't let you saying you should rest. "are you hungry? you barely touched your lunch too", he says. "im not really hungry. "if you're hungry we can stop by somewhere", you tell, looking over at him.

soonyoung stops somewhere, telling you he'd be back and you assume he'd going to grab some takeaway for himself. so you stare out the window of the shop he enters and watch him. he was so sweet to you, it makes your heart soft. and you didn't want him to get in trouble if word got around that you liked him. you so swallow down your feelings and tell yourself that it would pass. he was only here for another month now.

soonyoung is back and he smiles as he places a paper bag on your lap. "i got you something too", he says. you sigh, looking down because how were you supposed to brush of your feelings when he would do sweet acts like this. im sure he didn't mean to make your heart flutter but it sure wasn't easy.

"soonyoung...", you start, trailing off. he thinks he's done something wrong and a flash of worry hits in his expression. "did you not want that? sorry i should have asked-" "you're so sweet", you say cutting him off.

"you're so sweet to me and everything you seem to do makes my stupid little heart flutter and i just...i don't know anymore", you say, burying your face in your hands in defeat. he doesn't say anything and the car is silent.

"you like me?", he asks, surprised and you look up to see him waiting for an answer. you nod and he looks at you tilting his head to the side like he couldn't quite understand the fact that you liked or had feelings for him. "i-i like you too", he blurts out softly, covering a hand over his mouth once the words are out. it takes you a few seconds to process what he just said. "i've admired you since day one and you're really charming and pretty too", he adds shyly, making your heart beat a little faster.

your back home and you lay in bed, soonyoung's words playing in your head over and over again. what were you going to do now? you went to the office the next day like everything was fine and soonyoung greeted you with a smile as usual. but something about his body language had changed or maybe you were just hyper-aware around him now. you noticed how he sat a bit closer to you during the meeting and how he'd glance at you from across the table when you were working. it's later that evening and you're sitting across the table as you present the work you've done so far to your client. the client you were losing sleep for last night by working late last night. soonyoung is next to you and he watches as you bounce your leg repeatedly and fiddle with your fingers from anxiousness. this was a really high-stakes client so you were hoping everything would go smoothly. and without a word, soonyoung's hand is over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze as if to reassure you. it catches you off guard but you manage to answer the question asked to you just at that moment. it would be a lie to say your heart wasn't racing at that moment because it was going crazy.

later that evening after the meeting he finds you packing up and getting ready to leave. "the meeting went well, i'm glad!", he says. "yeah", you reply, your mind going back to the moment he held your hand. "i'm glad you're leaving on time for once", he adds with a soft smile. his smile was going to be the death of you - it was so endearing and genuine and so so sweet.

at the end of the month, it finally hits you that soonyoung is going to leave and that his internship is over. you're sad because you were definitely going to miss his goofy smile and antics at the office every day. he really had brightened up the last three months of your life.

today's soonyoung's last day and to celebrate his hard work here, everyone decided to take him out on a team dinner. so here you were, sitting opposite soonyoung as everyone toasted to him, glasses clinking as they drank. you tried your best to stay in the moment and not think about how much you were going to miss him. after a few drinks and eating, you're starting to get uneasy. maybe it was the crowded atmosphere, or that everything was too loud but you needed to get out and get some fresh air. so you excuse yourself and walk outside to the side of the building which also had a balcony since it was on the second floor.

"you okay?", you hear a familiar voice ask. soonyoung stands next to you as he faces you. you nod. "yeah, just needed some air", you say. you turn to finally look at soonyoung, who's looking at you intently. you lose your balance a bit, your head a bit dizzy from the alcolhol running in your system. "woah", soonyoung says as he catches your hand to make sure you were okay.

"i'm going to miss you", you say. the words are out of your mouth before you can think. maybe it was because of the few drinks you had, you loosened up and whatever was on your mind was coming out. "you were really the sweetest intern soonyoung. i'm grateful for everything you did and i hope you learned a lot and had a good time here", you say.

"can we maybe stay in touch? you have my number right. we can get to know each other more maybe?", you ask looking up at soonyoung. "are you asking me out y/n?", he asks, taking a step closer, his lips curved upwards in a small smile. you nod your head bashfully because you'd never be so straightforward or upfront yet here you were, asking soonyoung out. "i'd love that", he finally answers.

his gaze is soft as he looks at you, his eyes filled with adoration. you step forward and go on your toes to give him a small kiss on the cheek before stepping back and smiling. soonyoung is surprised his mouth forming in a small 'o' as he comprehends what you just did, before a grin bursts across his face.

and just like that, you and soonyoung start seeing each other and he'd just be the sweetest, cute and goofy boyfriend ever <3

i'd love to know what you thought about this!

[outerrimhours]

Brahms Heelshire X Fem!Reader

{Part One} / {Part Two} / {Part Three} / {Masterlist}

Note: Let’s pretend two things don’t exist : Brahms' beard and Malcolm. I deserve jail for the chokehold this man has on me. This is purely self indulgent, I am suddenly so obsessed.

Warnings: Murder?? Blood, gore, being chased by a very attractive psychopath?? Would you consider this stockholm or just stupid, Brahms apologist, fluff, kissing. Gonna make a part 2 for absolute smut, but let’s be real here, he hasn't been touched in years. This is so toxic and not at all a reflection of reality yall, but common, the minute he said he would be good I would have folded like a lawn chair. 

Song: I’m Yours- Isabella Rosa

I want your quiet, your screaming and thrashing

The salt on your lips and the hands that God gave you

And I want your violence, your silent sedation

Your moon eyes, your telescope, morbid fixation

"Help me Brahms", you had whispered to the doll, voice entering the ears of a ghost.

Your body shook. The shattering fear of the person you escaped from suddenly being so close. The fear that lingered when you left his abuse was suddenly so tangible now. A living force that crept over you and wrapped its overbearing hands around the muscles of your throat. You were immobilized, brain unable to form coherent thought, looking on at the shattered doll against the wood grain.  Blood rushing, pulse beating in your ears; enough to block all sound. All you could think of was the doll. Brahms. Even through the eccentricity of the situation, you grew to love the doll.. and it was all gone. Shattered into unrecognizable pieces, just like the life you left behind. 

 The moment a haze crept over your half lidded eyes, the sound of broken glass brought back some alertness, and without notice your knees hit the ground. Your ex propelled  against the ground in an inconceivable force. 

Through hazy vision, throat burning as you desperately inhaled as much air as your lungs could take, you saw a figure straddling your attacker. A ferocity of physical blows to the man, the sound of his guttural choking on what could only be blood. You were paralyzed to the floor, the minacious aura hanging in the air. You saw flashes of color, forest green, the white of a shirt, the dark low hanging hair swinging as the stranger furthered his attack. The hauntingly familiar porcelain of a mask covering his face. 

Bile rose to meet your esophagus at the sight. Cutting eyes rising to meet yours through the  bloodied white mask. Everything was still suddenly, except the beating of your heart. Brown, almost blackend hair fell over his eyes. An almost exact replica of the doll staring back at you, straddling the broken body of the man you feared most. Yet you were not relieved. 

“Brahms”, you choked out. Confused, frightened. Were you next? 

You scrambled to your feet, legs clumsy and unsure as you back away from the stranger who had crept from the wall. Walls you thought were haunted by the spirit of a young boy. An ignorance shattered as the boy, or man, stood up from his position. 

You sprint for the door, only to be grabbed from behind, held against his chest in an attempt to keep you from running. The fabric of his cardigan prickling the goosebumps on your skin. Only, his loose grip allowed you to slip through, breaking for the stairs. 

Fear keeps you moving, hiding. The man on your heel at every turn. Until you found the secrets behind the wall. The bed, the sink, the letters. It hit you like a wall, the sickening, paralyzing realization. You found your face contorting, tears breaching the rims of your eyes. The ghost was a person. Suffering and alone. And when you reached your exit, you found yourself hesitating. 

Why were you hesitating? Run, leave. Your brain screamed. 

And then there he was, peering at you through the pipes.

“Please”, the boyish voice begged. A sound so startling coming from the bloodied man before you. 

“I’ll be good. I promise.” 

You were so close to freedom, halfway out of the small door. The smell of rain soaking into the grass between your fingertips. The English air washing over your face, blistering your cheeks with the chill. 

You wanted to live. You truly did. You were frightened by his petulant temper when your body found freedom.

“Don’t you leave me!”

Agonizing, betrayed screams. 

And when he screamed your name you couldn’t run anymore. 

He had saved you. Saved your life. It made you sick, the realization that you were all he had. Will ever have. Every foot step taken was made in the opposite direction, retreating back to the overwhelming mansion standing ominous and threatening in the mist. There you were, turning the knob, allowing yourself back in. 

“Brahms”, you choked, a whisper that hung in the air as he met you halfway in the dim lighting. Creeping toward you with slow, deliberate steps.

“I didn’t leave you.” 

Brahms towers over you, vehemently staring you down with piercing blood shot eyes. His chest is heaving, sweat ghosting over his skin. You’re sick at the intensity. He could kill you, snap your neck between hands twice the size of yours, but you’re suddenly shaking at how close he gets. The nose of his mask pressing against your forehead, your eyes flicker to where his lips should be, the definition of his chest. 

He’s breathing you in, electricity hanging in the air. Sweat and blood mingling in the space between you. Your breath is rapid, fingertips twitching, almost wanting to reach out and touch him. 

How could someone be so trapped away?

You’re still so afraid, desperate to keep routine, give yourself a chance to figure this out. 

“Brahms”, you exclaimed sternly, “It’s time for bed.” 

The masked man jumped back slightly, startled by the sudden change in tone. As if being scolded by his mother. There it was, the childlike demeanor. His head tilted curiously, eyes softening. 

You swallowed, holding on to any ounce of authority. Brahms craved routine, afraid of the consequences of unfollowed orders. 

“I said it’s time for bed”, you reminded, guiding him to the room you tucked the doll into every night. A replica of him. 

Brahms followed obediently, shrinking into himself like a child past his bedtime. His overbearing, 6 foot frame, lingered in the doorway patiently.  You folded the quilted, multicolored comforter back like you did every night and watched as he placed the fire iron used to murder your ex against the wooden chest against the edge of the bed. 

 You didn’t forget that part. The way his face was unrecognizable, bones broken and mutilated. The body lying coldly against the mahogany in the living room. You felt disgusted at the sight, and yet relieved that that chapter was over. Although, you were too tired tonight, too traumatized to know what to do next. No rational thought existed.

So you followed routine. 

“Ready for bed”, you asked.

His hands were behind his back, polite and respectful, like his parents taught, nodding his head to your question.

“Under the covers.” 

Brahms sat, feet bare and touching the chill of the floor before lying back against the pillow. It had been years since he slept in this bed. Since someone tucked him in underneath. For years he watched the doll get the love he craved so desperately. Watching his parents cold and scandalized to his existence. Then there was you. Loving and caring for the idea of him, in the form of a porcelain recreation. Dutiful, loyal, beautiful. He craved you in every way imaginable. The shattering fear of abandonment made him feel irrational, but he could see it in your eyes when you pulled the covers over his chest. The uncertainty. Yet you had to know, you had to know the way he knew you so intimately. The way he loved you, craved you, would do anything for you. Proving his loyalty to your safety tonight when he killed your ex. Brahms watched every movement, every minute facial change, studying you so closely. This was the closest he had ever been able to get to you.  

You brushed uncertain fingers through the fallen strands of hair over his mask, feeling the way his eyes roamed your face. You couldn’t look, afraid of what you would find in them. 

“Goodnight”, you whispered, standing up and turning to leave before feeling the grip of his fingers wrap around your exposed wrist. 

“Wait”, Brahms whispered back, sitting up slightly. Choked and barely audible, like a scared child asking for more than he should. The feel of his fingers touching your flesh sent him into an overdrive. The first physical contact he had had in a decade, and it was yours. Skin he had watched and studied for months, desperate to feel it. 

When you turned back to him, you met his eyes. Your biggest, regrettable downfall. Pupils blown out and needy. Blue eyes searching and studying.

Something hung in the air, an unspoken acknowledgment as he guided you closer, your hand pressing against the arm draped over his stomach.  You leaned forward tentatively, your own eyes wild and searching. The way he looked at you with such innocent reverence made you lose your breath, like a child laying their eyes on a fire for the first time. Dangerous and captivating. 

Brahms gripped the sides of your biceps with a gentleness you had never felt. Such a stark contrast to the murderous display previously. Fingers tender, yet possessive, a guiding force to meet you halfway with waiting lips. Cold, porcelain lips and you allowed it and all its esotericism, somehow heady and riveting. 

And you melted at the small whimper that escaped through the mask and hung in the air. This was wrong, your brain screamed in retaliation, and yet your heart, the knot in your stomach disagreed. 

Your fingers waivered, reaching to touch the edge of the mask, before a hand shot up and gripped your arm roughly. Afraid, you pulled back to search his eyes for an explanation. 

He was tense, not out of anger, but obvious fear. Heart racing wildly under the hand resting between his pecs. Your heart ached. The fire, you remembered.

“You’re safe”, you assured, so quietly you wondered if Brahms even heard it slip past your lips. His eyes darted over your face, what if you were repulsed by what you saw? Hated him like his parents always did. Disgusting and disfigured. Surely, then you would leave. Yet, he yearned to feel the pinkish flesh of your lips against his own. Brahms wanted to know what you tasted like, what sounds you would make. He had never kissed anyone but his parents, desperate to fill the need aching in his chest. 

When his fingers formed around the crest of your hand, he brought it back to the mask, guiding you to remove it for him. And you did, revealing the face of the same boy in all of the paintings.., but much older. The left side is scarred with aged burns. 

You should have been startled. Truely, a rational person would be perturbed. Yet, you obviously were not rational. Your heart ached for him, reaching out to place an open palm against his skin and watching as he sunk into it. 

In a brave attempt at comfort, you leaned down, lips ghosting over the flesh. 

Brahms settled his oversized hand against your face, fingers entangled in the silk of your hair, thumb gripping close to your ear. He moved your face to gain full access to your lips, crashing his own in an inexperienced kiss. It was awkward and forceful until yours parted slightly, allowing his own lips to fit perfectly against your own. You breathed in, a moment of rest before he gripped you passionately, lips hungry and desperate. 

You settled fully on the bed, allowing Brahms to meet you halfway with his kiss, fingers gripping tightly against your head as if he would open his eyes and the moment would be gone. He would be back in his prison and you would be holding the doll like he wished you would him. 

When you reached an arm over him to stable yourself, you brushed slightly over his arousal. Obviously hard and throbbing in the confined space between his trousers. It made you pull back, stopping the kiss altogether. 

“I..”, you breathed out, unsure of what you could even say. So many thoughts swimming around in a frenzy. In the heat of the kiss you almost forgot the body lying in the living room, rotting away into the night. 

“I’m tired”, you admitted, realization hitting the confines of your chest at the gravity of the situation. 

When you looked up at him, Brahms was eyeing you in obvious frustration. 

“No”, he protested. Annoyed, frustrated that he wasn’t getting what he wanted. He wanted more, to feel you, for you to touch him. 

“Yes”, you replied sternly, a scolding look on your face, and you rose from the bed. Brahms hated not getting what he wanted, but he also realized he couldn’t push you further. 

“Stay”, he begged, grabbing your arm once again in an attempt to still you. “Please”, he added. 

When you turned back around without another word, sliding underneath the aged quilt next to the man that haunted you for months, you realized how truly mad you had gone. Surely, the house had caused you to go insane. 

He turned to face you, sliding his body down until he could meet your chest due to his height, resting his head against your breasts like a child to his mother. Brahms could feel the way your heart raced, draping his arm over your stomach. He could hardly keep his eyes open when you placed your hand against his hair, fingers scratching and smoothing over his scalp, the rise and fall of your chest.

He would keep you forever, he thought. For you, he would clean up the body and the mess he left when you would fall asleep. It was the least you deserved, and Brahms was a good, dutiful boy.

[averlym]

ghostwriter (their grandma would tell them she'd lose half her soul)