#this is probably incoherent it’s 3am I should be asleep.

[dodgebolts]

sorry i know I said I was going to sleep but also my brain is just on a constant loop about how Dream is so dedicated to his friends like when brainstorming the USMP his first thought was to make space for snf and karl and quackity and his new friends from squidcraft like farfa and spreen, then in development he made sure to dedicate part of it to techno by immortalizing his achievement on the leaderboard, plus he’s called up tommy and tubbo and more than likely invited them on as well because he misses just playing with them and hanging out like Dream is truly the most loyal person in the world like you have a shooter for life with him by your side and he tries as best as he can to stand by his motto and bring all his friends with him to new boundaries in the minecraft sphere 🫶

[azurevi]

I love the drunk s/o hc that you wrote. Can you write it for the Heartslabyul boys but since you said max is 4, you can remove one boy. But if possible you can do all 5 then okay.

Thank you for requesting! I included all five of them because I'm not going to break them up obvs, hope you enjoy ^^

Heartslabyul with a drunk s/o

Riddle

Riddle doesn't really like being in an unfamiliar or difficult situation so you coming to his room at 3am drunk as a skunk isn't at all appreciated, but hey, he loves you and no matter how much he hates the smell of alcohol he isn't going to leave you out in the corridor.

He is mostly clueless. He has probably only drunken alcohol two times and he stopped at the first sip. The first thought he has is to call Trey for help but he decides to just handle this himself, so he carries you to his bed and lays you down. You're not the most cooperative person when you're drunk though, so he has to physically hold you down until you're too tired to fight back.

If you're thirsty he'll immediately grab you a bottle of warm water, and whenever you feel the urge to throw up he's gonna be by your side moving your hair out of the way. When you're finally passed out soundly, he stays up for a while more just to research for food or drinks that can soothe your hangover in the morning.

The moment you're awake he's next to you, complaining about your less than appropriate actions from the night before and nagging you about how you shouldn't drink so much alcohol. It may be annoying but it all stems from his care for you.

Ace

Let's be honest, Ace was probably drinking with you. He may drink alcohol from time to time moderately, so he invited you to accompany him this time, but he didn't expect you to have such low tolerance.

Great, now date night is ruined and you're mumbling nonsense while spraying out on the floor. What is he gonna do? He's never dealt with drunk people before.

After just sitting down and watching you go on and on about raccoons and why you shouldn't wash rice with a colander, Ace finally decides to take you to bed first. It was foolish of him to think that it would be easy, because with your flinging arms and wiggling body it definitely makes the few steps to his bed seem like a long trip. But finally, after much dedication and a bit of swearing, he rests you on his bed and slump onto the floor immediately.

It is only when you ask that he realizes that he should bring you some water (don't blame him, he's very unfamiliar with all this). If you're still too energetic to sleep, he'll sit next to you and listen. At some point he realizes that this can be a good chance to get some secrets out of you and he'll start asking questions like 'What do you like about me?' and 'If Deuce and I fell into a river, who would you save first?". He'll also take note of any funny things you say or do during the night and tease you about it later.

Deuce

Deuce has been watching you for the entire night, making sure you don't drink too much. He only walked away for a moment to get some snacks, and when he's back you're… breakdancing in the middle of the room?

He immediately drags you away from the scene and brings you back to his room where he can take care of you. When you first started dating, Deuce researched a lot about how to be the 'perfect boyfriend' in different situations, so he's quite confident that he can handle this well.

… Or not, afterall things are easier said than done. You're just so active when you're drunk -- always stumbling around and touching things while sharing a story that you've been repeating for the past hour. It's a real challenge trying to keep you in a single spot. If you happen to be a touchy person when you're drunk, he's just going to straight up malfunction.

But ultimately he collects himself and gets you to the bed, placing a cup of water and some medicine near your reach. He stays close until you're asleep and snoring, just in case you suddenly feel unwell or get all hyped up again. 

He may not be the best caretaker, but he sure gives his best.

Cater

Oh, now this is a great chance to see a different side of you!

If you don't usually mind him taking your photos or filming you when you're conscious, he's going to record everything you say and do when you're drunk. He's not gonna miss any of your hilarious (or really bad) jokes or poses. After a while though, he finds it a bit difficult to film and watch over you at the same time, so he just places his phone down and focuses on taking care of you instead.

Cater doesn't always find himself in situations like this but he does have a few ideas of what he should do. He gets you some snacks to munch on as well as a glass of water, staying by your side and listening to your incoherent words.

He's just going to find the whole thing adorable, really.

He definitely doesn't mind if you get affectionate, he always likes to hear you proclaiming your love to him. If you get emotional, he's going to pay extra attention to you and make sure that you know he's here. He sees it as a chance to get to know you more deeply. Of course, he's not going to make you spill everything, but he'll listen to whatever you have to say respectfully.

Trey

You're drunk? Well you're in luck because Trey is your boyfriend and he's probably the most well-rounded person you've ever seen.

He first makes sure that you're somewhere safe (whether that be your room or his), then he makes you drink some water and eat some light snacks like peanuts and chips. 

No matter how energetic or exasperating you may get, he's ever going to lose his composure. He treats you with grace and gentleness and doesn't even break a sweat. You want to chat? Sure, he's all ears, but he's going to make sure that you still get enough rest. Oh, you want to go play soccer right now? He manages to turn you down without hurting your feelings. No matter what you throw at him, he handles it perfectly well.

When you wake up with a throbbing headache, he'll be ready with another glass of water and some pills, as well as any other things that you may need. If your hangover is really bad, he's going to spend some more time by your side. Just say the word and he'll be ready to help.

[black-streak]

Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting (but Sundays are meant for rest) - The Beginning

 Part 1

So I came up with this partially fleshed out idea on discord and decided to try writing a prequel of sorts to my HCs? Anyways, Mari is like 20ish and Tim is around 25 here. Pre-relationship.

~---~

 Marinette would forever be grateful that she had memorized the layout of the manor back in her first few visits. Otherwise she would have been absolutely lost by now; her sleep addled mind unwilling to give a single thought as to where she was walking. The only thought she could process was a cry for coffee whispering like a mantra through the back of her mind.

Turning a seemingly random corner, she found herself in the side kitchen standing in front of the coffee maker, already holding a fresh pot of the heavenly smelling life elixir. Okay, that's a bit dramatic, but whatever, it's 3 am and she's entitled to her theatrics.

Pouring a cup into her favorite mug, having had it appear before her despite not recalling retrieving it, she held it close and made way to the sit-in table, slumping down into the closest seat.

 It took about 10 minutes and half her mug down to realise she wasn't alone in the room. Turning her head slightly, she spotted Tim typing away at his laptop, his own mug just to the right of her arm.

   'When the hell did he get there?' She couldn't remember hearing any footsteps or the coffee pot pouring but then… she also didn't remember turning it on…. 'He's been here the whole time, hasn't he?'

  Turning back towards her own, she finished off the cup and got up to retrieve the pot, moving over to fill both of their mugs before returning it to its holder only to drop back into her seat beside him, leaning closer to see what he was working on.

"Thanks."

   Jumping slightly, she just blinked at him for a moment, then gave a slight nod.

"Couldn't sleep?" Tim glanced at her, inquiry quiet and half incoherent in its murmur.

Humming softly she considered before truthfully admitting, "Rarely can."

"Damian asleep then?"

"Probably."

"You're not sure?"

"Didn't want to check his room and bother him if he was. Plus, he'd be cranky if I woke him for no reason."

That seemed to catch Tim's attention for whatever reason, because he turned his eyes off the document to look at her fully now.

"You don't sleep in his room?"

"Nah. I tend to cuddle in my sleep and he can't stand being confined like that. Puts him on edge, I think."

  That only prompted an even more perplexed look from him. Unable to process that with so little sleep, she turned back to looking over his shoulder, trying to read what Tim was working on. Giving up, she looked back up to him.

"Whatcha working on?"

"Eh, just some last minute paperwork for a new deal WE is suppose to be negotiating next week."

"... At 3am?"

"You judging me," he asked, lifting one eyebrow slightly in amusement at the hypocrisy.

"You said the deal is for next week."

"It is. But if I get it done now, it's one less thing to stress over at the last second."

"But if you read it on a sleep deprived mind, you're less likely to recall anything you typed up. Meaning you'll have to reread it…. And depending on how dead tired you are, might have to rewrite it. Who knows what sleepy you thinks makes a good deal?"

"Hey! Sleepy me is perfectly capable of working without my brain's input."

Leaning over the counter to rest on her crossed arms, Mari tilted her head slightly to pout up at him.

"Yes but perhaps it'd be best to do so tomorrow and get your brain's input at the same time to save time? Come on, just put on a video or something mindless. I'll keep you company."

  Her logic was sound. There was no argument Tim could give that would actually work in his favor on the matter, but hearing a slight sigh of defeat still gave her an immense sense of victory. Peering over at her, he decided turnaround was fair.

"Alright… but if we're not going to work, you should be trying to sleep. Im cutting you off." He said, pulling her mug out of her reach only to find it empty. Sighing, he moved to set it in the sink only to see her take up his own, carrying it over as well.

"In that case, so should you," she smirked, washing out both mugs and setting them to dry before taking up his laptop, grabbing his wrist, and tugging him towards the living room.

'How did I not see that coming? That was the obvious outcome… when Was the last time I slept,' Tim wondered, not really paying mind to Mari as she situated them both on the couch, turning the screen to face them both from the coffee table, youtube pulled up and a vine compilation being queued up to play.

…..

  Half an hour later, the two were passing jokes back and forth, sleepy giggles and references whispered into the dark room, laptop forgotten and asleep before them, both too out of it to think of moving back to their rooms. Only to be broken up by a mewling yawn, Mari slumping further down, sleep finally pulling at her.

  It didn't quite hit Tim that something about the situation was slightly off till Marinette curled into him from where he slouched into the corner of the couch, head dropping onto his chest. 

Ah, Fuck. Damian was going to kill him.

Nudging her slightly till she hummed to him, he tried to gently wake her back up fully.

"Mari, shouldn't you go back to your room now?"

It had the opposite effect.

  Mari sprung up, eyes wide, blush flushing up her cheeks, seemingly not having realized she had been cuddling up to him till just then.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable! I keep forgetting you guys like warning beforehand. Either way I should have asked if you minded though. That was so invasive of me and the last thing I want is to invade your space when it's not warranted or wanted. I promise it won't happen again Tim, I'm so sorry."

Finally stopping to take a deep breath from her rambling, Tim jumped in, panicking to think he was causing her distress.

"No no, Marinette, it's fine! You're a very tactile person and frankly I don't mind it. I just know Damian wouldn't like finding you cuddling up to me, or anyone for that matter, especially in the middle of the night when he thought you were in your room, that's all."

That seemed to stop her in her tracks. Settling back down, she fixed him with a thrown look. 

"I mean… I know Dami can be protective at times, but I don't think he'd be that upset by it. Maybe a touch put off, but I think he'd tease me more than anything?"

Now he was thrown for a loop. This went against everything he knew about his little brother… that could only mean bad things.

"... Really."

"Yeah, as I said, he knows I'm a cuddly person when I'm tired. Plus, your his brother. At least he knows and trusts you. He'd just make fun of me for being so clingy. Sorry again about that by the way."

Narrowing his eyes, Tim couldn't see a hint that she was lying, but still he had to push to be sure. The last thing he needed was Damian to feel like his position was being threatened. That's what sparked their rivalry the first time after all.

"Hmm... I took Damian to be the possessive type. Especially over someone he was seeing. Trust me, Mari, he's not going to like his girlfriend cuddling anyone. Especially not me." 

"Holy Tikki, what?!"

"Tikki?"

" You think… you think Dami and I are dating?!?!"

"Be quiet, you're going to wake someone up!" He rushed out, trying to cover her mouth, only for her to evade, eyes blown wide with shock but still aware enough to dodge his grip.

"No, hold up. You seriously thought we were together?" She spoke in a startled tone, grabbing at his hands to make him stop reaching at her face and concentrate on her words.

Finally giving up on keeping her quiet, Tim actually started processing her words.

"You're… not?"

"No! Of course not! Did he say we were?"

"Well no but… I just assumed. He doesn't like anyone and yet acts like your his personal sunshine."

  Giggling, she shook her head, settling back into the couch at his side.

"Yeah, that's only in front of others. Says no one needs to know what a chaotic being I am. His words not mine."

"Oh. So you guys really aren't..?"

"Nope," she chuckled, popping the p, slowly curling back into his side.

Stopping abruptly, she pulled back a bit and glanced up to him, blush dusting the top of her freckled cheeks. 

"Is.. Is this okay?"

  Now assured that he wouldn't be promptly attacked just for letting Marinette near him, he couldn't see why not. Plus, she obviously took comfort in it and needed sleep. Who knows if she'll find any alone in her room. Wrapping an arm around her and tugging her slowly down, he nodded.

"I already told you I don't mind. Plus, your warm."

Humming her thanks, she burrowed herself under his chin and promptly passed out, Tim following only moments after.

…..

Tim woke up late in the morning, having slid down the cushion and twisted up his limbs with Marinette's who was still half on top of him. By some stroke of luck, they hadn't been disturbed by anyone thus yet. (Dick had already passed through and took a picture to send to the group chat. Who knew the way to make Tim sleep was to pass out on top of him?)  Feeling her shift, he looked down to see bleary blue eyes blinking back at him from under messy bangs. A small smile lit her lips and she moved up giving a light kiss to the underside of his jaw, before slowly getting up.

"Thanks Tim. Probably the best sleep I've had in a long time. We should nap sometime…. Maybe watch a movie first," she suggested, flushing but sending a coy, eager look his way.

Nodding, he could only think one thing.

'Welp. She's going to be the death of me."

[eiijunkun]

Midnight Fun

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* Tomobe *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ request: open !!! (a/n bye this was such a sweet request to write and i hope i wrote it properly, i really think tomobe will like to achieve peak anime couple things with you but he’s also aloof and a bit shy) request:  a tomobe x reader one ! for tomobe, they both get drinks and snacks together at 3 in the morning. hope this makes sense 🥺 TOMOBE X READER MIDNIGHT FUN

Dating Tomobe was much more fun than people would think. He sometimes seems reserved and to himself because he always has his nose in manga and because he happens to be rather quiet himself. The first time you two met was when you were on a train back home, coming from school. He had noticed you because of your anime keychain and he let a huff out, more of a breathy laugh, he was already amused. He let his eyes go up and took notice of your uniform, you didn’t go to his school and your uniform was foreign. Interesting. His eyes finally met your face and his lips parted in a gap. You were stunning, from your stunning face structure to your hair. He had seen no one as beautiful as you, besides his manga “waifus” but those don’t count, he knows they can’t notice him. As he stared for so long your neck tingled with instincts that someone might be staring, moving your head side to side slowly to see who it might be. Your eyes made contact with his, blush creeping up both your necks and to your cheeks. He was handsome, his hair a bit shaggy but it suited him resting well on his forehead. He was a real cutie if you had to say to yourself but why was he staring and for so long? Making the first move yourself, sliding over a bit see him properly you spoke up. “Uh, do you know me?” The voice you used was heavy to his ears, but to yours, you sounded confused. “Yes, you are the woman in my dreams, something out of a shoujo manga.” First, you stared blankly, utterly confused but then you let out a loud laugh, a hand flying to your lips to stifle the laughter. He didn’t understand why you were laughing at first, he was serious. Which was why you were laughing so hard. His deadpanned face was too much. Ever since then you two have ridden the same bus, never questioning too much on your school, it was routine for you two. Each day a new manga in his hands, once you looked over his shoulder just to see suggestive porn. “Gross!” you whispered yelled next to him but he just shrugged. Exchanging numbers was another fun activity. You would think you would do it sooner but the two of you were both too shy to ask. Tomobe overcame his fear before you. “Do you want to? His eyes falling everywhere but not once on you. ��Do you want to exchange numbers?'' Now here you are, staring at your previous conversations with your boyfriend. Re-reading his shoujo recommendations, promising it wasn’t anything dirty. Your hands ghosting at his photos of his anime figurines. His photos after his baseball practice were your favorite, he was dedicated to the sport. To have passion for something was admirable, and you always let him know. Your screen was dimming, your eyes falling quickly to look at the time. 2:56 AM Groaning as you thought about how he was probably asleep, your eyes widening as you receive a text two minutes later.

<Tomobe ♡>

do you happen to be awake?

<Y/N ♡>

no

<Tomobe ♡>

you just replied though????

<Y/N ♡>

could've been a ghost...

<Tomobe ♡>

well, does the ghost want to go to the gas station with me?

<Y/N ♡>

ITS ALMOST 3 OCLOCK MAN

Soon your screen was lighting up and you couldn’t suppress your smile. You had gotten good at the whispering, so your parents wouldn’t hear. For odd reasons Tomobe simply didn’t care and talked in the same tone he always does.

“Its 3am,” Tomobe said seriously as if he was looking at the time to repeat back to you.

 ''No, I would've never known." You giggled into the fun turning over to switch sides, your arm falling asleep.

“Can you sneak out?”

“Can you?” You spoke in disbelief, he spoke as if was an everyday thing for him.

''I don't need to?''

Both lines got silent, you with frustration as he spoke so freely and Tomobe stayed quiet because he simply could. Looking at your window and thinking quietly to yourself you made a distressed sound. “You good?” Tomobe said with genuine concern, his voice laced with concern and curiosity. ''Mhm, just thinking about how I can avoid bussing my ass." You joked, hoping to take the edge off. It worked because Tomobe let out a breathy laugh. God, you loved that sound. It didn’t take long for Tomobe to find your house, actually not living that far. His hands up to catch you if you fell but you were just lifting one foot and then the other to escape. “What’re you doing?'' “This is what they do in anime.” Playful hitting his chest you took his hand and laced it with yours, blush creeping up again. You both were young and naive, both of you in your third year of school but it was a simple pleasure coming from holding each other’s hand. “Why’d you want to go to the gas station?” Tomobe didn’t know himself. He had taken this advice from Sanada-senpai. He told him he should be spontaneous, so his girlfriend wouldn’t lose interest in him. He also saw this idea in the manga, but he wouldn’t tell you that part. It wasn’t cold, nice and warm for a 3 am run to the gas station. Stopping in your tracks as your face scrunched up in frustration again but this time directed at you. “I forgot my wallet.” you huffed, turning your body to retract back to your home. “It's fine.” Tomobe pulled you back, “I got it.'' he added. Nodding slowly, you let yourself blush. Such a gentleman! Finally entering the gas station, you skipped around, you didn’t know what you wanted and it seemed neither did Tomobe because he just followed you around. “Do you know what you want?'' You were looking up at him while you are squatting down, he was staring down at you and for some odd reason, it made his heart clench. You’re so beautiful. Is what both of you were thinking about, “You okay there?” You giggled and held the big bag of potato chips to your chest, “we can share these.'' You sweetly said, again making his chest clench. “You can pick the drinks, surprise me.'' Softly shoving away, for he would just wander around you if you didn't. He returned with two cherries flavored drinks, well, you did say surprise. Eventually, you made it to the counter to pay after picking up sweets along the way. Tomobe never questions, rather he stayed with a content smile, letting out the breathy laugh you loved when you shoved him. Paying was simple and easy, quiet too. The cashier must’ve known you were teens, mumbling under his breath about ‘young love.’ Stepping outside felt amazing on your skin, the AC in the station too cold for your liking. Sitting on the curb, near the entrance door Tomobe sat close to you. He looked like he had something to say, his eyes kept glancing everywhere but you. Poking his cheek to catch his attention worked, his eyes falling on you but soon did his head. His head rested on your shoulder and he mumbled incoherently. “Wait, Tomobe, I can’t hear you.” You laughed. His hand moved to squeeze your arm out of comfort. ''I said." He huffed, his cheeks tainted with red. "I said I really like you, that's all.'' Now it was your turn to heat up with the flustering feeling. So cute! “I really like you too,” patting his head softly, trying to put him at east, “I really like you too, Tomobe.” you smiled sweetly, his head slowly lifting. A quick peck was placed on your lips, a hug holding you close so you wouldn’t run off like you normally did after you two kissed. “I’m glad.” He smiled, nuzzling close.

[onehellofan-undertaker]

So happy to see the ask box open~! I had a few questions for you~! (I HOPE THATS OKAY!! D;) • Favorite thing(s) about Undertaker? • Least favorite character and why? • If you could meet any Kuroshitsuji character, how would you spend your day? Oh god, I have so many questions, but honestly, I'd love to hear from you and what your opinions are Cx your opinions matter too~! (If you had anymore Undy headcannons, I'd love to read them 🤤❤) Have a great night/day! ^^

Also, I’d love to talk about Undertaker ^^ do you have any canons on his daily routines (morning, day, afternoon, night), how he relaxes, if he were to get drunk (omg, the possibilities ;A;); I could go on, and on..!! Oh my god!!! Friendship between Undertaker and Othello?!? I ship their friendship- or rather alliances, either way, I ship it~! I’d love to get your feedback

Ahh this is so nice!! And yes the ask box and my messages are always open for anyone who wants to ask something or just drop by and chat about anything, so please don’t be shy! 

Favorite thing(s) about Undertaker?

     All in all I don’t think theres anything I don’t like about Undertaker? Everything about him as a character is completely enthralling to me. And even his defects seem to make him even more interesting. How smug he is and how he thinks he can just do as he pleases (e.g. Messing with life and death and playing god), and the way he’s arrogan in his own way.

     The Undertaker has proven himself to be quite the manipulative character, and that being paired with someone who is as smart and intelligent as he is, could have interesting effects. You have no idea how proud I was during the Weston arc when he’s just released his bizarre dolls on Ciel and the rest of the P4. He’s standing on the wall and Ciel orders Sebastian to get him, but both Undertaker and Sebastian know that if he were to go after him instead of Ciel, his soul would be in danger. Sebastian is used to be the one outsmarting people, so it felt nice to know that The Undertaker was the one to remind him that it’s not always like that.

     Another thing that I really like about him is how well he’s able to disguise himself and keep himself out of suspicion. He’s been by Ciel’s side for the longest time, until we find put that he actually wasn’t. We know that Ciel has come to him for information for a very long time, as did his father before him and we also know that he’s been collecting things from his “guests”, which is how he realised that Jack the Ripper’s victims were all missing the uterus in the first place. Now, how would he have realised that all of these guests were missing the uterus had he not been looking for them? Maybe he just stumbled across the fact, but I highly doubt it. Now this just means that he has been working on his bizarre dolls for some time now–at least since the Jack the Ripper arc, but I don’t think so.

    During the Campania arc, there were hundreds (and maybe even thousands) of dolls aboard that boat. Now we know that he used Ryan to help him get his work done in time, but how much time could it have taken him to make just one doll? Let alone thousands. Even if he were able to make one doll each day, it would’ve taken him years before he managed to make that many, especially considering the time it probably took him to gather all of the materials necessary, then stitching the corpse up, and then making sure it moved and work. How many failures were there before he managed to make one that worked the way he wanted it to work? And then make one after another the same way as that one? And on top of that he knew exactly why they went after humans when they were released, that must’ve taken some time to decipher, considering that they don’t really seem to go after him, so he must’ve convinced or taken and used other people to see what it was that made them violent towards them. Plus the amount of time it took for him to find a way to hide the dolls and make them hide until he said they could come out and attack? Or make like a timer for them. And then Johann and Derrick? How long did it take for him to teach them to talk and form coherent words? Especially Johann, who, as he said, was his masterpiece. Somehow he managed to keep him in line, teaching him to talk and restrain himself from attacking people even when he wasn’t there, or when the rest of his dolls have already started attacking.

     Where I’m going with this is that he has been doing this for years, he might have been doing this since before he met Vincent and Claudia, and he kept them from finding out, when they’re the Queen’s Fucking Guard Dogs? How did he manage this? I mean it’s not like it’s a little insignificant secret. Ciel doubted his own aunt and one of his last living relatives when it came to murders, but when the Undertaker showed up in the Campania and claimed that he was there because the hospital was a regular of his (though it wasn’t completely a lie) he didn’t even question it, even when the corpses started moving and Undertaker seemed to actually know what was happening, not for a second did he actually think it was going to be him, even though he knew that he took parts out of corpses he worked on for a living.

     So, as we can see, he’s smart, highly intelligent, very manipulative, dedicated, he can play his cards right, he can earn people’s complete trust, and he could totally beat your ass, those are probably my favourite things if I had to point out a few. 

Least favorite character and why?

     Viscount Druitt. I mean, he thinks its okay to flirt with a 13 y/o? No, it’s not okay. And after that it turns out that he “only did it because he was going to auction her off”? As if human trafficking made this any better. And then it turns out he’s still fantasising about Ciel? Gross? I get a shiver down my spine whenever I think about that. I don’t think I have to keep going on why he’s probably the most disgusting character in all of Kuroshitsuji.

If you could meet any Kuroshitsuji character, how would you spend your day?

     The obvious answer would be Undertaker, but for the sake of variety, I’ll say Ronald. Because Ronald seems to be the kind of person that’s just really easy to talk to and he’d probably be up to do anything, and if I could only get one day to spend with anyone, I’d want it to be something fun, like maybe an amusement park because I feel like that’s such an easy way to get to know someone and get comfortable with them.

Head canons on his daily routines (morning, day, afternoon, night)?

     He should probably get up early in the mornings but, he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t sleep in either, but he probably wakes up at nine or ten when he should be waking up at five or six in the morning. He’ll wipe his eyes and check to see how tangled his hair got during the night before going to brush his teeth. He’ll get some breakfast then and put some clothes on to start working on whatever customers that have to get done before he opens the shop.

     He just wants to get his work done as soon as possible, so he can take a break and maybe work on his dolls. And, since he considers that to also be part of his work (not that he complains, he loves being the Undertaker and messing with the balance of things), during his free-free time he’ll pace around his place and shop looking for something to do, and end up taking a walk, somewhere quiet and relax, or read a book, but I feel like he rarely have any free time.

    He doesn’t really has a set time that he goes to sleep, but it’s at around 10 or 11 pm on a good day (sometimes he’ll go to sleep at 3am or just not at all). Before he goes to sleep, he likes to shower off all of the grime of the day, taking his time and just standing under the water doing nothing at all but relax under the water. By the time he comes out and dries off and gets into bed its been about forty minutes, but he eventually stops tossing and turning, and he falls asleep.

How he relaxes?

     He likes taking a walk, somewhere where there’s no people, he can take his time and take in his surroundings and finally stopping somewhere he can sit and just close his eyes and take a nap, wether that’s a big field, in front of a lake or river or the ocean or even the graveyard at night. Where he can look up at the sky and be alone with his thoughts, no matter how loud or quiet they might be. 

If he were to get drunk.

     He doesn’t really get drunk often, and not because he doesn’t like drinking, but because when he wakes up the next morning he always has the worst hangover, and he knows better than to try to work through a headache. So he always does his best not to drink more than he should.    Of course, this doesn’t mean he never gets drunk. When he gets drunk he doesn’t really act that much different at first, maybe he’ll get a little bit more quiet than usual if he’s with a big crowd of people (or just more than one person) and squint intensely at something before he suddenly bursts out and says something really weird and/or deep that has absolutely nothing to do with whats happening with the conversation, and that’s the first sign. The second sign is when he gets super giggly, and I mean, while he might normally be a bit giggly, he’ll just be three times as giggly, and he’ll just chime in on the conversation and be really loud and say ridiculous and somewhat incoherent things, he’ll slur his words a bit but he still always does his best not to, just to get what he’s trying to say across. I’d say that if someone who didn’t know him to well wouldn’t notice (at first) how drunk he really is.

     He’d also look for some kind of physical contact if his S/O is there, nothing sexual, but maybe he’d want to hold their hand or hold them uncomfortably close and throw his arm around their shoulder, and when he tries to whisper something to them like “You’re so cute, you know that?” or “Can you teach me how to cook that thing you make thats just like a big ginormous taco-sandwich with ground meat inside of it when we get home?” he’ll burp halfway through his sentence, saying a sorry, and that should be your queue to stop him from drinking another drop of anything and take him home, give him some water and get him into bed.    He might not want to go to sleep or drink anything else that’s not liquor that you try to give him, so you’ll have to be persuasive if you don’t want him to wake up in a terrible mood the next morning.

Relationship between him and Othello?

     Well, Othello is a very new and very interesting character! I can honestly say that when he was first introduced to us I’d gotten a certain impression, but in the past few chapters he’s sort of changed from what kind of character I expected him to be, which I find very intriguing, since he’s so much more different than what I’d imagined he’d be like.

     As for his relationship with Undertaker, I don’t think I can be (or want to be) 100% sure of anything just yet, but I don’t think my ideas differ much from everyone else’s.

     He and Undertaker seem to have very similar interests, so it wouldn’t surprise me one bit if they were working together and Otto was leaking information directly from the dispatch and to him. Othello appeared very suddenly and very mysteriously, and the way he talks about what he’s doing there is very cryptic, so if Undertaker were to pop out of nowhere towards the end of this chapter and Othello were to join him, It wouldn’t come to me as a surprise. But what makes me doubt their alliance if only a little bit is that, why would Othello and Undertaker reveal their alliance now of all times? Why now and not later? What would they gain from this? (Now this is just supposing they are working together).

     First, let’s talk about Undertaker, we don’t know what his ultimate goal is, not really, because, sure, he wants the dead to evolve, he wants to bring the dead back to life and so on and so forth, but why? To bring the Phantomhives back? Or is there more than that? We’re not sure yet, so what does Othello do to help him? (And what would Othello gain? To make an alliance then both people need to have similar goals and they both have to gain something from helping the other). Most probably he’s leaking information directly from the reaper dispatch to him to help him achieve this goal, so it would make much more sense for the two to keep their alive a secret as long as possible, even if they’re ready to put the plan into action or whatever, and the only logical answer to “Why would they reveal their alliance now?” is that they’ve already gathered all of the information they needed to succeed in achieving their goal, but even then why would Othello risk deserting the dispatch, there’s always a chance that their plan could fail, and then what would Othello do? Since Undertaker probably wouldn’t care. This doesn’t really make a lot of sense to me, but they could have a reason:

It was imperative that Othello left, wether it was because dangerous for him to stay or something else, I don’t know, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Undertaker convinced him to leave, or manipulated him into deserting along with him and Othello did, (but why? If he’s only using Othello, then he’s of much more use to him in the dispatch)

Othello himself made the decision to desert, and that also wouldn’t surprise me, since there’s been a lot of talk about deserters and their reasons lately

Or, we just ignore everything I have previously said and Othello isn’t working with im at all and/or it won’t be revealed until later in the story.

     Either way, I feel like they’re characters that compliment each other very nicely, so I do hope we get to see them interact.

[sugasgrowl]

Things Never Changed

Group: Got7

Member: Mark Tuan

Pairing: member x reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2739

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

Okay so I’m slowly becoming Got7 trash thanks to @fortheloveofsuga (fuck you for giving me “feelings”) so I was compelled to write something for them. I just kinda wrote this at like 3am on my phone and debated on whether not to post it, but I decided I would. :) 

@seokvie @gotsinvn @mark-myass (i know y’all appreciate Got7 so here ya go *insert side eye emoji*)

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

There’s an old philosophy that says “absence makes the heart grow fonder”. The sentiment seems beautiful. Poetic, even. The thought that your absence from someone’s life will be an ever-present hollowness that makes it nearly impossible to complete simple daily tasks--the constant memory of the one you love dancing along the edges of your mind, just barely out of reach from your shaking and nostalgic fingers. The deep and meaningful love a connection that is blatant and comforting and unwavering, even with thousands of miles of ocean separating you. Poetic, indeed.

But it's just not realistic.

Mark rested his forehead against the cool glass, the earth an inky black top spinning in slow motion below him--twinkling gold and blinding white flecks of city lights flickering meekly in the never ending tar-like expanse of sleeping civilization that was creeping painstakingly slow underneath the plane. To no avail, he tried to still his shaking leg, to relax his muscles and sleep, but his body was completely indifferent to the fact that he hadn’t gotten more than three hours of sleep in the past two days. He sighed deeply and adjusted the earbuds shoved carelessly in his ears. The loud and percussive drum beats stitched together in the song that played at a volume far too loud to be healthy going unnoticed for the third hour in a row, his racing mind too clouded with her and his belly too full of nerves to give a damn. He was so ready to get home to her.

Four months. That's how long it had been since he’d held her. Since he could let his dark irises, heavily lidded and glazed with the haze brought on by countless rounds of passionate sex, drink in her every detail and attempt to commit every blemish, freckle, scar, and pore to memory. Four whole months since he could reach out and brush the tips of his fingers along the seam of her kiss-swollen lips without the harsh screen of a phone or laptop getting in his way. Since he could hear her loud, genuine laughter without the crackle of a phone speaker rudely interrupting.

It was fucking torture.

At first, they did their best to squeeze phone calls and late night FaceTime sessions into their (well, his) busy schedules, determined to do everything in their power to make it a functioning relationship. The calls were filled with lazy smiles and bursts of high pitched hyena laughter as he would retell his tales of touring, most of them involving Jackson’s shenanigans. She would always stare at the pixelated version of him on her phone screen, her smiling eyes twinkling brightly. More often than not he would attempt to continue with his stories and try to ignore the way his heart beat just a little faster at the weight of her gaze.

He would get distracted by her half smile, losing his train of thought and his ability to form a complete sentence.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he’d muse, his piercing laugh and the faint pink dusting of embarrassment blooming on his cheeks made her smile grow in size.

She'd shrug and shake her head, her smile nearly blinding.

“I'm just really proud of you.”

But all too soon one of them would be mumbling incoherently, drunk on exhaustion.

The frequent calls lasted about a month before the reality began to set in that long distance relationships are hard, the real world marching forward to yank them out of the honeymoon phase by their toenails.

Reality wasn't whispered sweet-nothings and hours of sleep lost due to the giddiness brought on by hearing each other’s voices. It was one of them--usually Mark--barely able to keep his eyes open, regardless of the time of day they found time to talk. It was him forgetting to let her know that he wouldn't be able to get in touch, and her waiting for hours until anger burned her throat like acid. Or her hearing a rumor that he was seeing someone else and calling him in tears, desperate for reassurance. Or simply both of them missing each other so deeply that they questioned if the pain was worth it in end.

The triggers almost never changed, regardless of the country he travelled to.

There were time zones, really fucking crazy time zones. There were drops in service. Hours and hours of radio silence, one of them almost always busy with their lives and responsibilities. Neither of them were strangers to misplaced anger, the bitter words and sharp comments climbing from deep inside them like a beast that had been lying dormant while Mark had been staying at her apartment like a semi-normal boyfriend.

Opposed to never ending patience and understanding, real life wormed its way into their hearts. But despite the ridiculous strain that came with a long distance relationship (and an idol relationship on top of that), there was faith that they could make it. There was the hope that they could last, the brief and fleeting moments of happiness a flickering candle flame. A beacon of light to lead them through the fights and frustrations.

Reality was hardly hearing from her, or her from him, in two and a half weeks aside from the argument they had three nights before. Reality was him sending her a text saying My flight should land around 2:30 and having two letters stare him blankly in the face, speaking volumes more than she did after she hung up on him for snapping at her all those days ago.

[10:45pm] Ok.

He was unsure at what point during the flight he fell asleep, but Mark awoke with a start, Jaebum’s warm hand firmly shaking his shoulder. Mark squinted up at his leader dumbly, red marks temporarily marring his lean face from the way he had rested his cheek against the sill of the tiny window. Still dazed and confused as to what city and time zone they were in, it wasn't until Jaebum uttered a sleepy “C’mon. Let's go home” that Mark realized they were back in Seoul. He jumped up so fast that he slammed his head on the low ceiling as he scrambled to gather his things, a low and gravelly swear escaping his lips.

The journey through the airport felt like he had lived that particular moment in his life nine hundred and seventy four times already, all the previous tours and fan meetings and times he had to travel for work swirled together like some sort of lethal cocktail--the likeness of it all making his legs grow wobbly and his head spin. People blindly scurried through the terminals like disgruntled ants with the hopes of making it to their flights. Some were sprinting with huge grins on their faces to meet loved ones halfway after being apart for an unknown span of time. Out of the corner of his eye, Mark watched the emotional moments take place with jealousy simmering in his chest.

I wish we could do that.

He took a deep breath through his nose. If he attempted to share such a loving moment with her in public, there would be drops in sales. Thousands of angry comments directed toward her. They didn’t try to hide their relationship, necessarily. The two of them would go out for coffee or to dinner, occasionally holding hands, but never venturing further than that--partly because of the fear of hate, but also because they weren’t into PDA anyway. They didn’t feel the need to express their feelings for everyone else to see. They found their own language of expressing feelings through gentle brushes of his hand against hers, or the slight quirk of an eyebrow.

God, he missed her so much.

After four months, sixteen whole weeks, he was going to be able to kiss her again. Their plane had touched down a little early. He quickly glanced at his watch and processed the numbers reading 1:45am in blunt white lettering.There was no way she was asleep at that hour. She had always found solace in the way the silver moonlight blanketed her whole universe at night.

She probably waited up, he thought to himself, desperate for his nerves to ease up. His thick brows furrowed. But what if she didn't bother?

The possibility made his stomach feel like it housed a den of snakes, all the excitement of seeing her and the worry of what would come of them after so long apart slithering sickly in his gut. He’d spent so long wishing he could be with her.

What if she decided this isn't worth it? What if she forgot my personality and she's disappointed when I’m still quiet?

He shoved the worries deep down until he could no longer hear them echoing inside his head.

Whatever happens is for a reason. You can't make her stay if things have changed.

When he finally walked up to the door of her apartment, his heart floundered helplessly in his throat. What if she doesn't love me anymore? The thought begged to be coddled, but he immediately snuffed it out.

He didn't need to be worried, because things between them never changed. Deep down he knew that. Or at least he hoped.

Carryon bag thrown over his shoulder and suitcase gripped tightly in hand, he pushed his way through the entryway. Shuffling inside and accidentally closing the door a little bit too hard behind him, he flinched. Back home for twenty seconds and he was already coming off as pissy.

Before he even had the chance to take a step inside the apartment, the bedroom door was being flung open. And there she was.

Messy hair piled on top of her head, not a stitch of makeup on her face. Threadbare and faded t-shirt with her old high school mascot cracked and peeling off the front. Batman pajama pants just a hint too short and exposing the skin of her ankles.

It was her.

Mark almost stopped breathing. He wasn't a sappy guy. He really, really wasn’t. They were the couple who usually poked fun at each other and acted more as best friends than anything else. But seeing her there, staring at him with a sheen of tears glistening in her eyes and a look of utter bewilderment etched into her features, he was in love.

He had known he loved her. He had told her he loved her almost every day, even if that was all he said. But it wasn't until his body acted on instinct and dropped his bags to the floor as she practically flew across the living room and jumped into his open arms that he knew and he felt with every fiber in him that he was madly in love with that girl.

He let out a strangled huff when her legs wrapped themselves around his waist and her arms slung themselves around his neck. She was happy to see him, too. Thank God.

They stayed like that for hazy length of time, the only movements being the way her back quivered as she cried into his neck and the gentle way he swayed their tightly tangled bodies back and forth.

“I’m sor-” Mark’s voice cracked as he muttered the sentiment into her neck, bringing him to the realization that the shame he felt was escaping him in a trickling of hot tears.

“God, I'm so mad at you,” she almost growled. “I missed you so much, you bastard.”

Her words were borderline furious, but her actions were tender and needy--her hands gripping both sides of his face and roughly pulling him into a bruising kiss. It was deep and a full on clashing of tongue and teeth, the both of them willing to do anything to try to convey their feelings without bothering to use words. The taste of her was so overwhelming, warm and slightly sweet with just a hint of mint. She must have just brushed her teeth--he could taste the icy cold flavor of her favorite toothpaste on her lips. He had to bite back a groan of satisfaction when he felt her lick into the heat of his mouth and lightly trace the underside of his tongue with the tip of her own. His grip around her tightened, a sinful sigh rushing past her lips at the closeness, and he seized the opportunity to capture her bottom lip between his teeth and tug.

The way her fingers wove themselves into the hair at the nape of his neck and her nails dug into his scalp drew a sound that was a hybrid between a grunt and a whine from his chest. Any other day and Mark would have probably either laughed at himself or been somewhat embarrassed, but he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. His feet began moving on their own accord and carrying them both in the direction of the bedroom, praying to god that he didn't somehow trip and drop her on her ass in the middle of trying to be good to her.

He gently lay her on her back, the mattress dipping even more when he pressed himself flush against her, his hands grabbing fistfuls of her thighs, her ass, her waist, feeling every part of her that he had been deprived of for four months, until both of his hands cradled her face in his palms and his thumbs were frantically brushing her cheekbones.

Mark forced himself to disconnect from the kiss, a whine of protest falling from the dorky goddess that he was undeniably head over heels for.

“I'm so sorry,” he breathed, forcing himself to look her in the eye and ignore the way her pupils were dilated so much that he was on the edge of falling into the velvety blackness that threatened to swallow him whole.

With every syllable, his lips grazed hers in hopes that the closeness and the way his breath fanned across her face would satisfy her in a minuscule way that he couldn't while he was away.

He reconnected their lips, unable to be without her taste any longer than he had to. Only half in control of his brain, a half-drunken chorus of “God, I’m so sorry. I love you so fucking much. I'm sorry” was mumbled into her mouth, her neck, her shoulder, peppered across her cheeks. He wanted to paint the apology across every inch of her in hopes that the message would somehow sink into her skin and lave at the gaping wound on her heart.

After a few moments, their kisses slowed until they were simply curled up together on her bed, their soft whispers loud enough for only their ears but still under the heavy protection of the pale light of the moon. Her face brushed against his with every expressive scrunch of her nose, and her leg was thrown over his narrow waist--wishing to be close to him in the most innocent and pure way possible. She peeked at him through her lashes, unable to deny the feeling of comfort that swelled in her chest as he traced the seam of her pajama pants, losing himself in the path going from her knee to her hip. A small, tired smile tugged on the corner of her lips.

Mark felt the subtle raise of her cheek and pulled back a bit more to evaluate her expression. His heart stuttered in his chest when he noted the warmth in her gaze.

Things never changed.

“Why are you looking at me that way?” he whispered, a sly smile breaking out across his handsome features.

She placed a lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth before a genuine and heart wrenchingly warm smile nearly split her face at the seams.

“I’m just so proud of you. I love you.”

Mark beamed, his eyes scrunching up at the corners.

“Let's go to bed. We can pick this,” he playfully squeezed her ass, “up tomorrow. I just want to hold you and get some good sleep for once.”

They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and Mark was unsure if that were true. But he was positive that no matter where in the world he was, no matter how far from her he had to be, the love pooling in his heart belonged to her. He was hers. She was his.

And that never changed.