#write headcanons without it being a little Too Specific

[kxsagi]

This feels like talking to a celebrity, and I'm not even joking

Could I please request some soft, cozy, sleepy, cuddle oneshots with my bllk boys? Specifically Gagamaru, Raichi, and Kuon if it's not too much trouble?

You can add others if you like too!

I love you, you're beautiful~♡

Do I get a good grade in requests?

“𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡”

a/n: AAAAAAAAA STOP ILYT

you are so beautiful too, and yes you do get a good grade in requests! 

and i don't like kuon, but i will write headcanons for him just for you <3

ft. gagamaru gin, raichi kingo, kuon wataru, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, karasu tabito, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kaiser michael

gagamaru gin

you’re not sure how it started. one second you were bored, the next gagamaru had built an entire pillow-and-blanket fort in the living room like a six-foot-plus-tall golden retriever on a mission. 

now you’re both lying inside it, watching a nature documentary on his tablet, snuggled up under two comforters. gagamaru’s head is upside down beside yours, his long hair tickling your face. 

“those frogs look like aliens,” he says thoughtfully. 

you hum, eyes half-lidded. “you look like an alien.” 

he stares at you. “but i’m your alien.” 

you laugh, turning your head to press your nose against his cheek. “yep. stuck with you.” 

he wraps an arm around you and yawns. “good. let’s fall asleep in the frog dimension.” 

raichi jingo

“hey, don’t get the wrong idea, okay? i’m just cold,” raichi grumbles as he pulls you into his side like a human space heater. 

you snort, already settling against him. “sure. totally not because you’re clingy when you’re sleepy.” 

“i’m not clingy,” he grits out, but he’s holding you tighter now, his hand rubbing lazy circles into your shoulder. 

you press your face into his chest and feel him sigh. his voice gets softer as the minutes pass, his usual loud energy melting into something warm and quiet. 

“… you smell good,” he mutters after a while, sounding a little embarrassed. “like… home or somethin’.” 

your heart squeezes. “you big softie.” 

“shut up and go to sleep.” 

kuon wataru

the lights are off. the TV hums in the background, and kuon has one arm around your waist, the other tucked under his pillow. 

you’re half-asleep when he whispers, “hey… sorry for earlier.” 

you blink slowly. “hm?” 

“for being snappy. i had a crap day and took it out on you. i didn’t mean to.” 

you turn toward him, eyes adjusting to the dark. his brows are furrowed, voice quiet like he’s scared to wake you too much. 

you reach out, cupping his cheek. “it’s okay. i know you didn’t mean it.” 

he leans into your hand and kisses your palm gently, like a thank you. 

“… can we stay like this?” he asks, almost shyly. 

you nod, and he pulls you into his chest, warm and protective. nothing else is said. just soft breathing, steady arms, and forgiveness in the form of a sleepy embrace. 

isagi yoichi

it’s raining. 

not the stormy, thunder-cracking kind. just soft, steady drops tapping against the windows like a lullaby, and the world outside is painted in a sleepy grey. your living room is dim, curtains drawn halfway, only lit by the soft flicker of the TV and the quiet warmth of the man curled up beside you. 

isagi’s arm is draped around your waist lazily, his face smushed into your shoulder. the blanket you’re sharing is slipping off his side, but he’s too comfortable to fix it. his breathing is deep and steady, eyelashes fluttering with every slow inhale. 

you shift a little, tucking the blanket tighter around both of you, and he hums. "mmm... 's warm," he murmurs, eyes still shut, voice low and sleepy. 

“you’re hogging all the blanket,” you tease softly, fingers brushing his fringe away from his forehead. 

he grins without opening his eyes. "you can have my hoodie next time," he mumbles, then pulls you closer until there’s no space left between your bodies. 

you rest your head on top of his, his heartbeat thumping gently against your chest. neither of you move for a long time. not when the show ends, not when the rain stops. the world feels far away, and here, in this moment, you’re okay. 

"yoichi?" 

"mm?" 

"nothing. just... love you." 

he shifts just enough to press a kiss to your collarbone. "love you more. now nap with me." 

nagi seishiro

the sun filters through the curtains in soft golden streaks. it’s barely past 9 AM, but nagi has no plans of getting up, and neither do you. 

his legs are tangled with yours, one arm draped lazily over your stomach. his white hair is sticking up in all directions, and his cheek is squished against the pillow as he looks at you with half-lidded eyes. 

"you're awake?" he mumbles, voice still thick with sleep. 

"kind of. you’re heavy." 

he nuzzles further into your side in response, refusing to move. “then get stronger.” 

you laugh quietly, brushing your fingers through his messy hair. he hums, eyes closing again. his hand rubs gentle circles into your hip under the blankets, and the only sound in the room is the quiet hum of the ceiling fan. 

“we should eat breakfast,” you say, but your voice is too relaxed to sound convincing. 

“no need. let’s just lie here forever.” 

you don't argue. you stay like that for another hour – no alarms, no phones, just shared warmth and the steady rhythm of nagi’s sleepy breathing as he dozes off again, this time with your hand still in his hair. 

karasu tabito

it’s past midnight when you find yourself curled up on the futon with karasu. he’s wearing an old hoodie, the one you always steal, and you’re buried in the sleeves of it now, your legs tangled together under the thick covers. 

“you ever think about how weird dreams are?” he says suddenly, voice quiet but curious, eyes watching the ceiling. 

“like what?” you murmur, sleep clinging to the edges of your voice. 

“like, last night i dreamt i was a seagull. and i was fighting another seagull over a hotdog.” 

you laugh, nose squishing into his hoodie. “you’re so dumb.” 

“i’m serious!” he grins and finally turns to face you, arms wrapping around you to pull you closer. “i woke up craving hotdogs.” 

you snort, letting your head rest against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. his hand rubs gentle circles into your back, and the room falls quiet again. 

“you make everything better, you know?” he whispers after a long moment, like it’s a secret. “even the weird parts.” 

you hum, smile soft. “same to you, bird boy.” 

his laugh is muffled as he buries his face in your hair. “shut up and sleep, you menace.” 

you do. and somewhere between his heartbeat and the warmth of his hoodie, you drift off. 

itoshi rin

it’s late. the kind of late where everything is still. and rin’s room is even quieter than usual. 

he’s lying on his side, facing you, his hand hesitantly resting against your back, like he’s still not used to touching someone so close. his face is flushed just slightly in the dim glow of the nightlight, eyes soft but a little tense. 

you yawn and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, and he freezes for a second. 

“… you okay?” you mumble, half-asleep. 

“… yeah. just… i’m not used to this.” 

you open one eye and smile sleepily. “used to what?” 

“… being this close to someone,” he says honestly, barely above a whisper. “but it’s nice. don’t go anywhere.” 

your hand finds his under the blanket and you intertwine your fingers. he squeezes them, quietly. like a promise. 

itoshi sae

you’ve both been traveling all day – planes, taxis, press things. the hotel room is finally yours and the king-sized bed has never looked more inviting. 

sae throws himself face-first into the mattress. “i’m never moving again,” he says, voice muffled. 

you giggle, pulling off your shoes and flopping down beside him. “we should shower.” 

“i should sleep,” he counters. but when you roll over and face him, he opens one eye, lazily reaching out to trace his finger down your nose. “you look cute like this.” 

you nudge his arm. “like what?” 

“like you’re about to drool on the pillow.” 

you groan and bury your face in his chest. he chuckles, wrapping his arms around you. 

you fall asleep like that, his chin resting on your head, his heartbeat steady, your legs tangled together, and his hand slowly stroking your back until the world fades out. 

kaiser michael

“liebling,” he says, exasperated, already buried under three blankets. “why are you not snuggling me yet. i am cold. i am dying. i am abandoned.” 

you raise an eyebrow from across the room. “you’re literally sweating.” 

“not from warmth. from heartbreak,” he declares, patting the spot beside him. 

you sigh and crawl into bed. the second you’re close enough, kaiser wraps himself around you like a starfish, long limbs trapping you in a warm cocoon of boy and blankets. 

“see? heaven,” he mumbles smugly, nose pressed against your hair. 

“you’re clingy.” 

“you love it,” he says without hesitation, pressing a sleepy kiss to your cheek. “i’m your emotional support golden retriever.” 

you try to argue, but his grip tightens and his breathing evens out before you can even get the words out. and maybe you do love it. just a little. 

�� 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[mixtapedoh]

actually you can go with seungmo + winter falls too. i think he's more of a winter falls girlie than lino. actually anything with winter falls 😭🙏

you knew what you were doing when you paired seungmo with my favorite skz ballad,,,,,,, your support and your mind will never go underappreciated in this house ♡♡♡♡♡

ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɴᴏᴡ ꜰᴀʟʟꜱ (ᴡᴇ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ)

☄. *. ⋆

pairing: kim seungmin x reader (not endgame) genre: angst, reminiscing word count: ~1k warnings: heartbreak, mentions of blood (metaphor and imagery), all thoughts no plot (sometimes fanfiction is about VIBES and VERSE, not cohesive story telling), gratuitous sneaking in and bastardization of song lyrics

olive's notes: you know know i had to go full tumblr for the title of this fic. song lyric titles (with something in parenthesis) how i love you, how i have missed you, how you changed the very synaptic pathways in my brain ♡. nothing will ever be as influential as you ♡.

consider my mini writing event ?

It wasn't the weather that made you think of him.

No, because that would be all too cliche — tidy and neat — something easy to anticipate and, perhaps, simple to avoid.

In a way, you could blame it on the snow: the soft, fluffy flakes too carefree to be cold, spinning on the barely there wind, a graceful pirouette to a gentle, almost forgotten landing. It was beautiful — the first snowfall of the year — and because it's arrival was so benign (unexpected and mild, creeping into the edges of the day until it's whispered chill tickled your skin and it's gossamer flakes were delicately kissing your head), you had no warning against the flood of memory it would bring in it's wake.

It was the couple on the end of the street that reminded you, though, if we're to be fair to the elements and truthful in the story we tell.

Two figures at the furthest distance from your current standing, hand in hand, startled as they walked out of a shop and into sudden snowfall. The leftmost of the two, seemingly more ecstatic than their loving counterpart, stuck out their tongue, angling their head skyward, and after a moment, laughed in delight, or some approximation of it. They turned to their partner, kissed them on either cheek, and then took off their jacket to place around the other's shoulders. Perhaps there was an exchange of half-hearted argument, but the moment ended with the two of them walking off, one double-braced against the building cold, the other habitually turning their palms to the clemency of snow — as though the moment was pure and this weather something to be held.

Snowflakes fell of your cheeks. If you were to be asked, they were to be blamed for any wetness, there.

Memories come in waves, and they are a vengeful and needy sea: demanding to be realized, sure in the devastation they bear. But how long is it before an experience crystalizes into memory? What is the minimum amount of time that needs to occur before that passage is significant and longing for someone can turn into missing them?

You weren't quite sure if it could be called missing him: this gnawing, guilty feeling accompanying your thoughts of Seungmin.

Once, the two of you had been friends so close, no one could talk about either of you without mentioning the other. His footsteps always following yours, your voice a necessary addition to any of his statements. So close your names spilled into the other, so present there was a space carved in the both of you for the other to reside in. Side by side or in tandem, there were always two.

And there were two, that night, when your warmth was carbonated with a fizz of intimacy and bubbles of desperation. You confessed to the secret of loving him and he worshiped that attachment with his lips. Again and again, a mantra that intensified to the fervency of song.

I love you, love you, love you.

And how many times did you say that before the sentiment set to rot, and the permanence of that phrase became something of the past?

I loved you, loved you, loved you.

Again, snow fell on your cheeks, pulling you just far enough out of your mired thoughts, to remind you to finish your walk to that lonesome, quiet destination called home.

You had Seungmin for longer than you held him, and the feeling of his voice in your mind was more resonant that the touch of his lips on yours. Evocative, cohesive, tenacious — something you couldn't yet unstick from the crevices of your thoughts.

Seungmin beside you, Seungmin whispering into the shell of your ear, Seungmin placing his love in the spot where your neck met your shoulders, the crook of your grin, the place above your heart.

But the wind blew, the novelty faded, the movie ended and you were stuck in the credits where words became meaningless and effort was forgotten in the aftermath of spectacle.

The ease corroded, the bitterness spilled, past tense slipped into the habit of your speech until all the tenderness between you was finished and gone by.

I loved you, and it wasn't his words or yours, but something set on the table for the both of you to consume. A sentiment on which you both engorged and drank dry.

Everything had changed, and yet you were somehow still the same. Seungmin had been so clearly and undoubtedly part of you — you carved out his place inside you alongside him! You hollowed out a space for him, and he for you — and yet with the absence of him, should there not have been something desperate and bloody for you to fix? You had searched and pleaded and clawed at the edges of you to find that void so you might set it to rights, but it evaded you, still.

I loved you.

Perhaps it had already healed over.

Perhaps it had never been.

But still, that unfound cavity ached in you. It was filled with the sound of his voice, and the phrases in his diary he'd let you read and you held to committed memory — it was shaped like the palm of his hand when it cradled you, and it contorted to the essence of his grin.

Would it have been different, had you never said anything all that time ago, and instead chose to keep those feelings in a bottle, only to be uncorked should Seungmin, himself, had fallen first and told you so? Maybe you could have kept that bottle of spirits in the most hidden parts of you, and, on nights when your yearning sharpened to the point of a knife, drank from them — an alcohol of illusion — just enough to get by? Maybe he would have found the bottle, and smashed it to ruin, or maybe he would have loosen it and get the both of you drunk off your own delight.

You would have liked it, perhaps, had he been the one to fall.

Maybe then he would stare at the innocence of snowfall and mix the feeling of it's melt with salty tears.

(ʇɹɐdɐ llɐɟ ǝʍ) sllɐɟ ʍous ǝɥʇ 'uıɐɓ∀

☄. *. ⋆

blog home

[ibblescribbles]

Do you think you will ever check out Raincode? It's made by the same people who made DR but with a more focus on mystery. (It has the same vibes and stuff, I feel like you would like it a lot) another thing, the writing is so banger

Yes, I've already played Raincode!! Really enjoyed it, especially for the DR-like vibe and I actually made charms of the main cast:

I have sketches of Yomi and Yakou that I've been meaning to add to this set for ages but haven't been able to bring myself to refine them ;v; Makes me happy when people recognize the Raincode merch at cons tho! I'm really excited for Kodaka's new game too, I haven't played the demo yet!

[asterafroditis]

Hello! Nice to meet you, your whole aesthetic is very beautiful, would you mind like writing with dorm leaders ( if you want to add others you may.) with reader being forgetful? I have severe bad memory problems and can only remember doing stuff if I make an action or a noise to remember me doing it. I have this problem a lot of having to repeat or check things multiple time cause I forgot if I did it or not. Like she or they can remember names and like very very specific details ( about the form leaders) but when given a task or like told something it just INSTANLY gets forgotten.

𐔌 . ⋮ memory markers .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆ Housewardens x forgetful gn! reader

𓏵 1266 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, they/them pronouns used (only in Kalim's part, if I recall correctly), fluff, not proofread but here we go!

Whew, finally finished with this, hopefully I got your request right (-"-;) feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

At first, Riddle finds your forgetfulness deeply frustrating. He’s meticulous with schedules and rules, and you forgetting assignments or dorm responsibilities—even moments after being told—makes him visibly stiffen.

"You just said you’d feed the hedgehogs, and yet they’re still waiting!" he’d scold, hands on his hips.

But the moment you look at him, repeating softly, “Hedgehogs, clap twice,” and then actually do it—clap, clap—before dashing off to complete the task, he freezes. “...You made that noise to remember?” you nod, and he grows quiet.

Over time, he adapts. He reminds you with structure: written lists, color-coded planners, short mnemonics—he even helps you develop rhythm games to trigger memory.

He still grumbles when things slip your mind, but he also notices how well you remember him. His favorite tea. His favorite tart recipe. That tiny twitch in his brow when he’s about to get angry. It humbles him.

“You always remember the details that matter,” he says once, softer than usual. “Even if the little things fall through.”

─────────────────────────

Leona plays it off like he doesn’t care when you forget things, shrugging and sighing with a “Tch. Figures.” But it’s clear he notices.

You’ll get up three times during a study session to check if you locked the door. The fourth time, he mutters, “It’s locked. I watched you do it.”

Eventually, he gets used to your system. When you start humming a low tune while writing something down, he raises an eyebrow. “That your memory trick?”

“Mhm.”

“Huh,” he grunts, but after that, he whistles the same tune whenever he reminds you of something; low and lazy, just like you do it.

He never baby-talks or coddles. If anything, he lets you figure things out, but always keeps an eye on you—especially when others get impatient. “If you got a problem with it,” he growls at a classmate once, “you try remembering five things at once without a system.”

He pretends not to care. But he always waits when you retrace your steps, always double-checks for you if you’re too tired.

“You remember what I like in my sandwich,” he mutters one day. “Guess you’re not totally hopeless.”

─────────────────────────

Azul is fascinated by your memory quirk. At first, he offers solutions like contracts for detailed memory aids—which you politely decline—but then becomes genuinely curious.

“You associate action with recall? That’s... intriguing.”

He starts observing you like a scholar. He doesn’t mock your forgetfulness, but he’ll raise an eyebrow when you repeat things out loud.

“I need to water the plants. Knock on wood,” you say—and then knock twice on the desk.

“Hm,” he muses, “So auditory-tactile pairing improves retention for you. Fascinating.”

Soon, he’s suggesting systems you hadn’t thought of—like memory charms based on your sound triggers, or organizing things visually with little charms you can tap. And while he might chuckle when you forget the same instruction for the third time, he never grows impatient.

“You remember the exact temperature I like for tea, and which cufflink I always forget. That’s more than most,” he’ll admit, adjusting his glasses.

And when you ask nervously if he finds your forgetfulness annoying, he says, “Not at all. You remember what counts.”

─────────────────────────

Kalim never gets frustrated—ever. If anything, your memory quirk becomes something he finds endearing.

“You forgot already? That’s okay! Let’s try again—wanna turn it into a song?”

He enthusiastically supports your sound-action system, helping you make memory dances and claps. If you repeat a task twice, he does it with you: “Double-checking buddies!” he laughs.

Jamil’s the one who sighs in the background, but Kalim is always cheerfully defending you: “They’re trying their best!”

You once mention, “I remember your birthday and your fifth favorite fruit, but I can’t remember what I had for lunch.”

Kalim beams. “That’s because you care about me! That’s way more important than lunch!”

He starts setting reminders to remind you of things, and even gives you little chimes to wear on your wrist that jingle when you move—because you once told him sound helps. “See? This way you remember to write things down!”

He never makes you feel less-than. “Everyone has their way of doing things,” he says brightly. “And I think your way is amazing!”

─────────────────────────

Vil is patient—but he will call you out. “Didn’t I tell you to moisturize your hands before handling those herbs?” he says with a sigh.

“I forgot. I—uh—tap my fingers three times now to remember.” Tap-tap-tap.

He raises an eyebrow. “If it works, then fine.”

He’s not dismissive, just exacting. He respects discipline, and once he realizes you’re working with your brain and not just making excuses, he starts helping refine your methods.

“Tap once for self-care tasks, twice for homework. Use different scents to jog memory—lavender for study, citrus for chores,” he advises.

He won’t sugarcoat when you mess up, but he notices how you never forget his advice on posture, or which side of his face he prefers to be photographed from. That earns you a fond smile.

“You may forget your lunch, but you never forget the little things that make people feel seen. That’s its own kind of brilliance.”

─────────────────────────

Idia is probably the most understanding of all. He gets it immediately.

“Oh! Like… executive dysfunction? Memory loops? Yeah, yeah—I do that too sometimes, especially IRL stuff. I set alarms for literally everything.”

You bond over your shared need for weird memory hacks. He programs Ortho to gently remind you of important things with little beeps, and even creates a digital “noise journal” where you can log your clicks/taps/claps.

“You can’t remember if you brushed your teeth? Easy fix. Record a five-second vid of yourself. Timestamped. Boom.”

He’s not great with face-to-face praise, but in private, he mumbles things like, “You always remember my routine of building and checking my character stats… that’s, uh, actually kinda sweet.”

He finds your memory quirks strangely comforting, like a familiar bug in a system you’ve both learned to navigate.

“People think it’s weird, but I think it’s just… like having different RAM.”

And when you panic over forgetting something again, he just gives a thumbs up from behind his laptop. “You got this. I believe in your noise-clicking wizardry.”

─────────────────────────

Malleus finds your memory struggles curious—but not bothersome. He’s lived for centuries, watched mortals forget everything.

When you ask the same question twice in five minutes, he doesn’t even blink. “Ah, repetition for retention. A wise method,” he says sincerely.

He listens carefully when you explain your sound-action system. “So a snap means you’ve done it, and a tap means it needs doing?” he confirms, nodding slowly.

He helps without condescension. Sometimes when you trail off or panic over forgetting, he quietly hums the sound you use to remember.

Snap, snap. “You mentioned you’d done the task already,” he says, a small smile in his voice.

When you confess how forgetful you feel, how ashamed you get, he tilts his head. “Yet you remember the way I admire gargoyles in the moonlight, and the cadence of my lullaby in Valley of Thorns. You remember things that others would never notice.”

He considers that the highest form of care.

“If your mind works differently, that does not make it flawed. Only unique. And I am most fond of unique things.”

[pomefioredove]

could you write the overblot boys (+ lillia & adeuce) with a reader who is really naïve? like they aren’t dumb by any means (the opposite, actually, they are smart and get amazing grades) but they have a lot of trust in people and sometimes takes things too seriously/at face value (like they don’t understand sarcasm at all, respond to rhetorical questions, etc)

how do you guys keep coming up with the most specific relatable ideas 😭😭 finally, oblivious representation!!!

summary: naive/oblivious reader type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, ace, deuce, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus, lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

for someone who's entire life is structured around decorum, Riddle is unexpectedly lenient with you

he's always had a certain weakness for cute things...

AHEM

he's seen your grades, and he knows you aren't incompetent or dim, you just...

...lack social finesse

fortunately, he says he's an expert at socializing!

...unfortunately, that's not true at all

if you're not careful, he'll have you talking like a sickly Victorian orphan by month two

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

but at least he's not Ace, who finds your naivete VERY entertaining

you and Deuce are a two-man circus to him

tricking you is so easy, it's almost not even fun

almost

he has, on three separate occasions, told you and Deuce that "gullible" is written on the ceiling, and all times, you both looked up

but it's all in good fun, of course

Sevens help anyone else who teases you about it, though. then it isn't so funny anymore

Ace and Deuce are just a little overprotective

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona hasn't said a word about it

not that he hasn't noticed

...not that he's trying not to embarrass you, either

he's just trying to see how long it'll take before you can tell when he's being sarcastic

it's just... entertaining

for someone as smart as you to hang onto his every word...

it's... a bit of a power trip for him

not that he's taking advantage of you for anything other than amusement, of course

besides, you'll need someone around to tell off the idiots who do try to pull the rug out from under you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

speaking of which...

if not for your friends' intervention, Azul would probably own your soul by now

he's not half as convincing as he thinks he is, but even then, you respond to everything he says in earnest

you actually believe the whole "nice guy" act

and, honestly...

well...

he likes the way you like him

you actually see him as a nice, smart, interesting person. you spend time with him without expecting anything in return

so, he gives up on trying to squeeze a deal out of you

...for now, at least, you're under his protection

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

someone get this poor man a day off

Jamil is tempted to put you and Kalim in a play pen together so he can take a nap

he just... doesn't understand you

he's seen your name in the hall after exams, he's heard the way the professors praise you, and yet you are almost painfully easy to manipulate

he could mold you like clay if he really wanted to

...unfortunately, he cares too much to do that

so, for now, he'll keep trying to trick you into tutoring Kalim so he can have the night off

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil is your number one protector

you're smart, you're competent, but you're way too easy to deceive

and knowing the boys at this school...

...of course, Vil has to keep you by his side at all times. he wouldn't trust half the students here with his laundry

he can't sit by and let you get taken advantage of

...not that he never teases you

he does, of course

your earnest responses are just so sweet to him, and you seem to genuinely enjoy complimenting him...

anyway

while Rook teaches you how to pick up on hints and cues, and Epel throws hands with anyone who even looks at you weird, Vil is busy pampering you half to death

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia's initial reaction is something along the lines of "well, at least I'm not that guy,"

(sorry)

but, really; he thinks he has it bad, and then you can't even read a room?

you're like total opposites; an overthinker and an underthinker

you're all... sweet and genuine and cutesy

and he's a lame weird loser...

he assumes that everyone else thinks the same; but then he starts hearing the things other people say about you...

...and the way you get treated when you don't understand a joke or pick up on a cue

maybe you're not so different, after all...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

unfortunately, it looks like you and Malleus are on the same page

one oblivious to social cues, the other awkward from years of isolation

communicating with anyone else is a minefield

but, of course, you have each other

the way you talk to each other is kind of adorable?

Malleus can be quite blunt when he doesn't mean to, though, for you, that's a blessing

but he's also aware that you're a little oblivious, compared to other humans, and he's quite accommodating

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Lilia is a little shit

he may act all innocent about it, but he knows very well what he's doing

your naivete was the first thing he noticed about you

he absolutely uses it to his advantage

you're just so easy to prank, how can he resist?

he also enjoys flirting with you

it goes right over your head every time, and it's just the cutest thing he's ever seen

he's trying to see how far he can push it before you realize he's being serious

times he's said "I want you" to your face: 2 and counting!

[kysstar]

BF!ATEEZ & WHEN YOU LEARN ABOUT THEIR HOBBIES | ATEEZ (requested 💕)

pairing : : bf!ateez x gn!reader

genre : : pure fluff

warnings : : none but a suggestive line if you squint (or its just me being dirty minded 🤷🏻‍♀️ )

author's note : : these are just my headcanons! they may differ from yours, so don't take them srsly <3 I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing this 💕 thank you for requesting this @atinyyuyu 💖

KIM HONG JOONG !

You walk into Hongjoong’s studio, casually pointing at something on his screen, mentioning a term he’s always ranted about.

He freezes. His eyes go wide like you just uncovered his biggest secret. Hands pause mid-air, hovering over his keyboard.

Blush creeps up his ears as he stares at you. “How… do you know that?” almost comes out as a whisper.

He groans, burying his face in his hands, mumbling about how he must talk too much. You laugh, nudging his shoulder, telling him you just listen because you like hearing him talk.

He peeks at you through his fingers, ears still pink, but there’s a small smile growing. His pride and shyness are battling inside him.

Then, the excitement wins. He starts explaining, hands moving as he talks, eyes sparkling. His voice speeds up, getting more passionate with every word.

You nod along, watching him, admiring how happy he looks when he talks about the things he loves.

At some point, he tugs you closer, absentmindedly pulling you into his lap, too caught up in his explanation to realize.

When he does realize, he pauses, looking at you like he just processed what he did.

Blush deepens. Hands hesitantly settle around your waist. A small, flustered laugh slips out before he just… continues talking, pretending like nothing happened.

His voice stays steady, but his grip on you tightens slightly whenever you shift.

You rest your head against his, listening to him ramble, feeling the warmth of his arms around you.

He notices but doesn’t say anything. Just smiles to himself and keeps talking, a little softer this time.

PARK SEONG HWA !

You casually mention a specific LEGO set while Seonghwa is focused on building, and he immediately stops. Hands frozen mid-air, eyes blinking at you like you just cracked a secret code.

Slowly, he turns to you, suspicion all over his face. “…How do you know about that?”

You grin, admitting you’ve heard him talk about it before. His ears instantly turn pink. He groans, covering his face with his hands. “I knew I talked too much.”

You laugh, sitting beside him, watching as he pretends to be embarrassed but keeps sneaking glances at you, lips twitching like he’s trying so hard not to smile.

“Do you wanna help?” His voice is quiet, almost shy. When you nod, his whole face softens. He gently places a tiny LEGO piece in your hand like it’s the most important job in the world.

As you build together, his usual careful and precise movements get a little clumsy. His fingers brush against yours, and you swear he hesitates before pulling away.

At some point, you get a piece stuck and struggle to pull it apart. He chuckles, shaking his head before scooting closer. “Here, let me.”

Instead of just taking it, he covers your hands with his, guiding your fingers as he helps you. His hands are warm, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary.

You glance up, catching him already looking at you. He clears his throat, quickly focusing back on the LEGO set, ears betraying him by turning even redder.

After a while, you yawn, stretching your arms. Without thinking, he reaches out and gently fixes your hair, tucking a stray piece behind your ear before realizing what he just did.

He stiffens. You raise an eyebrow. His eyes dart to the LEGO set. “...It was in the way,” he mumbles, voice barely above a whisper.

You let it slide, but you don’t miss the small, flustered smile on his face as he keeps building—his hands still slightly shaky.

JEONG YUN HO !

You casually mention a strategy from his favorite game, and Yunho immediately pauses the game. No slow reaction, just an instant freeze. Controller still in his hands, mouth slightly open.

Turns to you, blinking in disbelief. “Wait… you know about that?” His voice is a mix of awe and mild panic.

When you nod, admitting you’ve heard him talk about it before, his face explodes into the biggest grin—but then it hits him. “Wait… have I been ranting that much?”

He groans, flopping back dramatically, covering his face with his hands. You poke his side, laughing. “It’s cute.”

His hands slowly lower, and his eyes narrow playfully. “Oh? Cute?” Next thing you know, he’s pulling you into a loose headlock, ruffling your hair as you squirm and protest.

He finally lets go, but not before pressing his cheek against yours for a second—quick, warm, and intentional. When he pulls back, his ears are red, but he pretends like nothing happened.

Offers you a controller, grinning. “Wanna play with me?” You agree, and the excitement in his eyes triples.

He scoots way too close, knee pressing against yours as he eagerly explains controls. His hand covers yours at one point, guiding your fingers on the buttons.

He’s terrible at hiding how happy he is. Keeps sneaking glances at you instead of the screen, smiling like an idiot every time you get something right.

When you win a round, he throws his hands up in fake defeat. "Okay, maybe you're not that bad,” he teases, eyes twinkling.

Suddenly leans in, resting his chin on your shoulder, voice softer now. “Guess I have competition now, huh?”

His breath is warm against your skin, and you don’t miss the way his fingers lightly drum against your knee.

He pulls back, still smiling, and hands you a snack like it’s a reward. “Okay, rematch. But this time, I won’t go easy on you.”

KANG YEO SANG !

You casually mention a specific skate trick Yeosang has been practicing for weeks, and he immediately freezes mid-motion. Board under his foot, arms slightly raised, completely stunned.

Turns to you slowly, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How do you know about that?” His voice is calm, but his ears are betraying him, already turning red.

When you admit you’ve been watching him practice, he blinks a few times, then covers his face with his hoodie sleeve like you just exposed his deepest secret.

Tries to act unaffected but keeps stealing glances at you, lips twitching like he’s holding back a smile.

“Wanna try?” He finally asks, casually patting the skateboard—except he’s definitely nervous now.

Holds your hands way too carefully as you step onto the board, like you’re the most fragile thing in the world.

“Okay, just balance first,” he says, but he’s already hovering like he’s ready to catch you at any second.

The second you slightly wobble, his hands are immediately on your waist, steadying you. He doesn’t move them.

“See? You’re getting it,” he murmurs, voice softer now. His thumbs absentmindedly rub small circles against your sides before he quickly pulls away, clearing his throat.

After a while, you sit on the board while he pushes you gently, letting you glide across the pavement. He watches you with that soft smile.

When you reach the end, he crouches in front of you, resting his arms on his knees. “You look cute like this.” He says it so casually, like he doesn’t just make your heart race.

You throw a playful kick at him, and he laughs, grabbing your ankle before pulling you closer by the board.

Ends up just sitting beside you, the two of you sharing his hoodie while watching the sky turn orange.

“We should skate together more,” he murmurs after a while. Then, quietly—almost shyly—“Or just spend more time like this.”

CHOI SAN !

You show up at San’s place, casually holding a plushie he’s been wanting for ages. The moment he sees it, he gasps—like full-on, dramatic, hand-over-mouth gasp.

His eyes dart between you and the plushie, processing. Then, suddenly, he’s tackling you in a hug.

“HOW DID YOU—? WHERE DID YOU—?” He’s literally shaking you with excitement before snatching the plushie and hugging it like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

Looks at you, eyes shining, voice softer now. “You… remembered?”

When you nod, he just stares at you for a second, like he doesn’t know whether to scream, cry, or kiss you.

Instead, he flops onto the couch, dragging you down with him, the plushie squished between you both. His arms stay around you, warm and secure.

“This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” he mumbles, nuzzling into the plushie—then, after a pause, nuzzling into you too.

He doesn’t let go. Just stays there, holding onto both you and the plushie like you’re equally important (which, let’s be real, you are).

At some point, he quietly says, “You always listen to me, huh?” His voice is filled with something soft, something almost shy.

You hum in response, running your fingers through his hair absentmindedly. He melts.

He’s quiet for a while, just enjoying the warmth, then suddenly—“Okay, now you have to name it.”

He shoves the plushie in your face, dead serious. “It’s basically our child now.”

SONG MIN GI !

You show up with a rare vinyl record of an artist Mingi loves but could never find, casually handing it to him like it’s no big deal.

He just… stares at it. Then at you. Then back at the record. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out except a tiny, breathless, “No way.”

Gently takes it from your hands like it’s the most fragile thing in the world. Turns it over, checking the details, his fingers shaking a little.

“How did you even—? Where did you—?” His voice cracks mid-sentence, and you barely hold back a laugh.

He suddenly pulls you into a hug—tight and warm, like he’s trying to pour all his emotions into it.

Pulls back, eyes shining, then hugs you again because once wasn’t enough.

Five minutes later, he’s already setting up his record player, bouncing slightly on his feet like an excited puppy.

As soon as the music starts playing, he grabs your hands and starts swaying with you, even though it’s not even a dance track.

He’s humming along, looking at you more than the record, and oh no, he’s getting soft.

Midway through, he suddenly spins you around—way too enthusiastically—causing you to almost fall, but he catches you just in time, both of you collapsing into laughter.

You end up on the couch, him lying across it with his head in your lap, still rambling about how much this means to him.

He keeps looking up at you with this ridiculously fond smile, one hand playing with your fingers as the record crackles in the background.

At some point, he just sighs, closing his eyes, murmuring, “You’re actually the best, you know that?”

He falls asleep like that—smiling, music playing, your fingers running through his hair. And yeah, he’s definitely dreaming about you.

JUNG WOO YOUNG !

You casually mention wanting to cook a dish Wooyoung has been talking about forever, and he immediately gasps—dramatic, hands-on-his-chest levels of shock.

“YOU?! Want to cook that? With me?!” He’s already bouncing on his feet, practically vibrating with excitement.

Before you can react, he’s grabbing an apron and spinning you around, insisting on tying it for you. “Stay still,” he hums, pulling the strings snugly around your waist.

He definitely lingers, hands resting on your hips a second too long. “Perfect,” he murmurs, voice a little too smug in your ear.

Immediately back to his usual self, he pulls you to the counter, explaining the steps with way too much enthusiasm. Keeps leaning in way too close, just because he can.

At one point, he dips his finger into a sauce and holds it up to your lips. “Taste.” His grin is teasing, but his eyes are soft.

When you hesitate, he boops your nose with his sauce-covered finger instead. “Fine, I’ll just feed you myself~”

And he does, gently pressing his finger to your lips, watching with a very satisfied smile as you taste it.

He gets playful, stealing tiny bites of ingredients, making a mess on purpose just so he can pout and say, “Guess we have to clean up together~”

Randomly back hugs you while you stir the pot, chin resting on your shoulder. Sways you side to side, murmuring, “We should cook together like this every day.”

When you finally finish, he sits you down, insisting he plates everything. “I have to impress you, obviously.”

He watches so intently as you take your first bite, eyes glowing when you tell him it’s good.

Then, with zero warning, he tackles you into another hug, peppering quick kisses all over your face. “You’re officially my cooking partner for life!”

He keeps holding on, swaying with you in his arms, mumbling something about how he loves this—loves you—but quickly covers it up with a loud, “Okay, now dessert!” before you can tease him.

CHOI JUNG HO !

You casually mention a pool technique Jongho once ranted about, throwing in a term he’s definitely used before.

He stops mid-shot, cue stick still in position, and just stares at you. Like you just told him you’ve secretly been a pool champion this whole time.

“Wait… how do you know that?” His voice is calm, but his eyes are so wide.

When you shrug and say you’ve heard him talk about it, he exhales, shaking his head with the smallest, flustered smile. “I really talk too much, huh?”

Tries to act unaffected, but the way he keeps rubbing the back of his neck definitely gives him away.

Offers to test your knowledge, stepping behind you and adjusting your stance, his hands warm as they rest on your arms.

He’s way too close now, voice soft as he murmurs, “Like this.” His breath tickles your ear, and you swear he’s doing it on purpose.

Guides your shot, his grip firm but gentle. When you actually make it in, he grins so proudly, ruffling your hair. “Not bad.”

But the second he takes a shot, you distract him by casually complimenting his form. His cue stick slips, and he glares at you while you laugh. “You did that on purpose.”

Tries to act mad but fails because he loves seeing you smile. “Alright, if that’s how we’re playing…”

Next thing you know, he’s caging you against the table, one hand flat beside you, smirking. “Maybe I should play like this. You wouldn’t be able to focus either.”

You shove him, and he finally bursts into laughter, pulling you into a quick hug before letting you go.

As the game goes on, he casually feeds you small snacks between turns, making sure you’re comfortable without even thinking about it.

When you win a round, he groans, flopping dramatically onto the table. “This is rigged.”

But then he peeks at you, a small, proud smile tugging at his lips. “Guess I have to play with you more, huh?”

© kysstar

[sqgeism]

Hey girl, I LOVED YOUR HEADCANONS. Specifically abt Ken x Reader. If you can write about headcanons abt maybe when he's jealous? You covered literally almost everything in your headcanons, so I have nothing to request except this 😭

❥﹒kenji sato x gender neutral reader

✦. synopsis — part 2 of the kenji sato headcanons because i am totally normal <3

✦. love mail — i swear i promise ill post hsr guys 😞 just let me have my moment w sato i beg. i’ve decided to just do this req + add some more hehe. thank you sm requester for enabling my brain rot! (pls more ppl do so)

✦. tags — NO SPOILERS, fluff, dadgirl kenji, non-intimate/sexual kissing, kenji sato x reader, i wrote this w my brain off again ( ´͈ ᗨ `͈ ;; pls

Jealousy was not fun for the Kenji Sato. Before Emi came along and changed him, I can see him being the type to get jealous easily. Why would you need to talk to other people anyway? You had him, he was the best. He’d make it real obvious too, suddenly wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close, or the following days he has you wear his iconic jacket while you’re out with him so everyone knows exactly who and what you two are. If it gets to the better of him, he’ll get all pouty about it. He wants all your attention, your eyes all over him and him only. Maybe even hands but that’s a different thing. But I think after Emi’s influence, it’s less possessive and he’s grown to trust you with others instead of letting his feelings get in the way. Of course he’s not immune to jealousy, but you notice it a lot less. It’s less suffocating for you and you’re grateful he’s grown. You did love the pouty face he’d make though, it was cute.

Now if you were jealous, which is really no surprise.. Kenji had thousands of admirers, he had gifts on his doorstep like every other day. He’ll do everything to prove and reassure you that you’re the only one who has his heart. He’ll post you on his social media, take you out on dates, all those things to wash your worries away. Lastly, he’ll hold you in his arms at night and whisper everything he loves about you. Everything you were silently insecure about, he loved. Every date you thought he forgot, he remembered. And to meet a guy like that? How lucky can you be? (He tells you he’s luckier of course. <3)

I think he’s a messy kisser for the most part 🧐. (Forgive me in advance for this part. I am not very good at these things.) When he can take his time, he’s slow and gentle. Genuinely just trying to show you that yeah, he loves you, so damn much. And he’s going to show that through his passion by taking things slow so you can really feel his devotion. Other times, because he’s always in a rush, he’ll do a messy but clearly desperate kiss. He doesn’t like leaving without one, and you can describe him kissing you like it’s his last, (because it’s really not a far-fetched guess considering his line of work) his hand behind your head and pressing your lips against his in an almost ravenous manner. He does give you a very quick kiss on the forehead and runs off after finishing, leaving you a little dazed.

He LOVES to take you out on night rides. If ever you get a little nervous/have a fear of motorcycles, he’ll talk you all the way through via the cardo he put into your helmet. He’ll take you to some nice cafes or restaurants around Tokyo, other time’s he’ll bring you to some favourite childhood spot of his. When you arrive, he’ll tell you about his mother and the memories he’s made in this very special spot. It warms your heart to see his expression be so fond when he talks about his childhood – he truly misses it.

Before you knew of Kenji’s identity, I think it would be funny if you hated Ultraman. You just LOATHED the guy, Kenji asked your thoughts on Ultraman on the first date and you went on a rant about how he threw your car at a Kaiju only to miss. (He felt so embarrassed). It would be funnier if afterwards, he began to actually do his job as Ultraman properly.. and avoided cars on your street and avenue. He wanted to make sure you didn’t utterly hate Ultraman before revealing that he was him.

It would be cute if you and him knew each other like, much earlier. And you called him Ken. And then he made that his alias while he was becoming an All-Star baseball player. :) He’ll brag about it all the time in interviews too, that you’re the reason he uses it. <3

He’s the typa guy to have a picture of you in his room, behind his phone case, in his wallet, in his car and literally anywhere he can get his hands on. He bought a polaroid camera just to take pictures of you, he could care less about the price of film or the camera itself.. he just wanted to have as many pictures of you as possible. He’ll brag about it to his baseball teammates too, considering he also keeps one in his pockets for good luck. :)

You're his goodluck charm. <3

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Your writing is amazing 🤩

Can I request headcanons where The Big Three hedgehogs (separately) would react with a reader who doesn’t want to be in a romantic relationship with them; not because of them specifically, but because reader doesn’t want to be in life-threatening trouble all the time. They want to live peacefully, and they can’t have that if they’re dating hedgehogs who are known for attracting danger.

Sonic villains are scary and op. I wouldn’t want to deal with them, even if it meant rejecting the coolest characters in fiction.

Yandere triple s x Reader

Sonic:

Sonic is the embodiment of freedom and excitement, living life on the edge is all he knows. When you tell him you don't want to be in a relationship with him because of the chaos he attracts, he's initially confused.

"What do you mean you don't want excitement in your life?" he asks, his grin faltering. "You're seriously saying you'd rather stay boring and safe than, y'know, live it up with me?"

You explain that it's not about being boring, it's about being genuinely weary snd concerned. Eggman, Metal Sonic, literal GODS, waiting to pop out of the woodwork aren't exactly conducive to a peaceful lifestyle. You want to enjoy life without worrying about explosions, kidnappings, or world ending disasters.

At first, Sonic brushes it off with his usual charm. "C'mon, don't be like that. I'd never let anything happen to you, you know that!" But when you stand firm, his sunny charm starts to crack.

"Are you serious?" His voice lowers, losing its playful edge. "You're really turning me down because of a little danger? You think you're safer without me?"

His words filled with disbelief and growing frustration. How could you not see that he's the guy for you? He protects you better than anyone else could. Sure, Eggman"s schemes are dangerous, but they'd be even more dangerous if he wasn't around to stop them.

As days pass, Sonic'a obsession starts to surface in ways you didn't expect. He's always watching, always. You'll look out the window and catch a fleeting blur of blue, or feel the wind shift as he speeds past. You can't shake the feeling that he's nearby, even when you're alone.

When he finally confronts you again, his tone is far less casual than before. "You don't get it, do you? If you're not with me, you're vulnerable. I can't just leave you out here, waiting for something to happen. It's too dangerous without me."

His logic twists. In his mind, your rejection only proves that you need him more. You dont want to be around him because you dont want to get hurt? He'll give you that wish. Sonic begins isolating you from anything that could "endanger" you. Friends mysteriously cancel plans. Locations you frequent suddenly close down. If you dont want to be happy with him, thats fine, he'll make sure you cant be with anyone. After all, they might "endanger you" too

Shadow:

Shadow doesn't take rejection lightly. When you tell him that you don't want a relationship because of the danger associated with him, his first reaction is silent disbelief. He stares at you, his eyes narrowing as he tries to process what he just heard.

"You think being with me is dangerous?" His voice is cold, almost offended. "I've kept you alive all this time, haven't I? Do you really think anyone else could protect you better than me?"

You try to explain that it's not about him failing to protect you. You just don't want to wake up every day wondering which new villain will target you because of your association with him. Shadow's life is crazy, and just way too "eventful", and you're not cut out for that kind of stress.

For a moment, Shadow seems to consider your words. He's calculating, always analyzing the situation for the most logical solution. But then his own head gets the better of him, and the idea of you rejecting him, for any reason, sends him into a quiet fury.

"So, you think you can live a peaceful life without me?" His tone deceptively calm. "You think you can just walk away and no one will come after you?"

It’s a veiled threat, but there's truth in his words. Shadow's enemies are ruthless, and you even being friends would have already alerted them enough of your presence by now. In his mind, letting you go isn't just reckless, it's cruel. You need him, whether you realize it or not.

Shadow begins to follow you. He's always nearby, watching from the shadows, ensuring you're safe. But his presence isn't comforting. Every time you think you've escaped his grasp, he's there, reminding you that your "peaceful" life is a fantasy.

"You just dont understand, do you? If anything, im the only thing keeping you safe."

And if you still insist on resisting? Shadow's methods become less "gentle". He's not above using force to keep you by his side. In his mind, it's all justified. After all, he's doing this for your own good.

Silver:

Silver is the most emotionally vulnerable of the three. When you tell him you don't want to be in a relationship because of the danger he attracts, his first reaction is heartbreak.

"Wait... what?" His voice cracks, and his wide, teary eyes search your face for any sign that you're joking. "You… you don’t want to be with me? Why...?"

You explain that it's not about him as a person, it's about the constant danger. You're not strong like him. You don't have speed, psychic powers, or any training. You're just a regular mobian trying to survive, and being with him feels like painting a target on your back.

Silver's lip trembles as he tries to process your words. "But... I can protect you. I'd never let anything happen to you, I swear!" His desperation is just saddening. He doesn’t understand why you'd reject him when he's offering to keep you safe.

As the days go on, Silver becomes increasingly obsessive. He can't stop thinking about you, about how wrong it is for you to push him away. He convinces himself that you're just scared and that he needs to prove he can give you the peaceful life you want.

Silver starts "fixing" your life in ways that quickly spiral out of control. He uses his powers to move you away from anything he perceives as a threat. If someone looks at you the wrong way, they trip and fall. If a place feels "unsafe," he blocks your access to it entirely.

When he confronts you again, his tone is a mix of desperation and determination. "I've done everything I can to make things better for you! Don't you see? We can be together. You just have to trust me!"

If you still resist, Silver becomes more unhinged. He's not naturally violent, but his obsession with keeping you safe drives him to extremes. He starts to believe that the only way to protect you is to keep you with him, always.

"I know you're scared" he whispers, holding you close despite your protests. "But I’ll make everything okay. You'll see. You don't have to worry about anything anymore... because I’m here."

[nyctoaerah]

yandere satosugu x female reader? can you do jealousy headcanons (like what makes them jealous and/or what they do when they get jealous)? sorry if that wasn’t specific enough!

╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere behavior (duh) murder, possessiveness, gore. (Ooc maybe) satoru being an oa little shit. Poly relationship.

╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Satosugu x Fem! Reader

╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: WHAHAHA i didn’t knew if you wanted it to be separate or not anon, you said satosugu so i immediately assumed that it was a threesome. But heree, some hc’s:33 sorry pookie, i got lazy on suguru’s part:< SJAKEKSKA i did this first cause hc’s are the easiest to write💀💀💀

Masterlist

🔪Satoru struggles with pervasive jealousy issues, particularly when it comes to you and Suguru.

🔪This dude is like the embodiment of jealousy. he’s so envious he’s practically green with it. Hell he’s even jealous of himself. There was this one time he bet he could pull off dressing up as a girl for a dare, and oh boy, did he go all out. But then he got all pouty when you gushed all over him and got all touchy, something that you don’t really do often. And his reason of getting jealous with himself? He thought that you prefer him as a girl, like hello? you were supposed to prefer the original satoru and not his genderbent!

🔪But seriously, this guy’s jealousy knows no bounds. If Suguru flashes a flirty grin at someone else, bam, jealousy strikes. And if you dare compliment another soul? Jealousy overload. You hugged another man that isn’t suguru? He’s trying to force himself not to throw hands. This dude craves all the attention, all the affection, like a toddler hoarding toys in a playgroup. He’s aware he’s selfish, probably knows it’s not the best look, but he’s powerless against the possessiveness that overtakes him when it comes to you and Suguru. You both have this unique power to bring out the best and worst in him, after all, you two were the only one who sees him as “Satoru” and not as the “Strongest.”

🔪Satoru’s neurotic tendencies and jealousy issues stemmed from his messed-up childhood. The poor guy got stripped of his carefree youth and was thrust into the adult world way before his time after all. the jealousy bug bit him hard when he saw other kids having the time of their lives, while he was stuck with grown-ups fawning over him and expecting way too much and pressuring him. That childhood envy stuck to him like glue, and it grew into a full-blown mess when you, him, and Suguru became an item.

🔪The thing that grinds Satoru’s gears the most and the absolute worst, is when you and Suguru says something about other people’s eyes like; “Their eyes is so pretty” Blah, blah, blah, bullshit like that. It kills him inside that you don’t shower the same love on his eyes. His eyes are prettier, more powerful, and literally very unique, and you hardly ever mention how beautiful it is.

🔪Satoru absolutely loathes it when you’re completely oblivious to someone flirting with you. He’ll shoot menacing glares at the culprit when you’re not paying attention, as if daring them to keep it up, and he would end up threatening them.

🔪Satoru doesn’t bother in hiding his emotions, he’ll whimper, pout, and stick to you and Suguru like glue. And would play the melodramatic card, guilt tripping you. Or he’ll just straight up threaten you or tell suguru about how naughty you are.

🔪🔪🔪

Satoru’s head rested delicately upon your lap as your dexterous fingers ran through his snow white tresses. He gazed at you upward, sky blue eyes peeking from beneath his snowy eyelashes.

“Can you give me your phone for a minute baby? I just wanna do something”

Without pause for consideration, you obliged his request and gave the phone into his outstretched hand.

“Yeah, sure, here.” You responded with a hum.

“What are you gonna do with it, anyways?” You questioned, before your eyes widened as you saw how satoru’s digits hastened across the interface, focused intently on blocking specific contacts from further reaching your line.

“Huh, ‘Toru, what the hell?”

“Wait—why are you blocking them? Those are my—” Your words faded as Satoru lifted his head from your lap and moves away from you, his piercing gaze fixed on yours as he gently grasped your chin between his forefinger and thumb.

“Why do you always insist on conversing with them, hmm? Do you like them?”

“What— no! It’s not like that, what the fuck?”

“If you really love me and Suguru, then you have to sever ties with that girl/guy and keep your distance, okay?”

🔪Suguru really isn’t the jealous type, because he’s all about trust and loyalty when it comes to you and Satoru—He trusts you two.

🔪But, every now and then, a feeling of jealousy creep up inside him when he sees you and Satoru hanging out and having fun without him. He tries to brush it off though, understanding that you two are really close. He just wants to see his pretty lovers smiling, or at least that’s what he tells himself.

🔪When Suguru starts feeling jealous, it’s not a pretty sight. Beneath that kind and laid-back exterior lies a man who doesn’t really forgive that much. Suguru doesn’t forgive, and he doesn’t forget.

🔪Suguru may be a master at concealing his jealousy, but when it does surface, it’s like a storm crashing down. Picture this: you innocently text someone he’s really jealous of, and before you know it, your phone is pulled from your hands and tossed across the room while he summons a cursed spirit to destroy it completely, only to be replaced with a brand-new one moments later. Oh, and that person you were casually chatting with? It’s either you can consider them ghosted or consider them dead.

🔪Mentioning your ex around him was a big no-no. Because it immediately triggers him. can’t you just keep the spotlight on him and Satoru? One tiny mention of your ex’s name or Satoru reminiscing about his past flings, and Suguru’s mood immediately becomes sour.

🔪In stark comparison to Satoru, Suguru remains nonchalant about compliments being thrown around. He’s all for lifting people up until those compliments take a flirtatious turn. If that line is crossed, however, his cursed spirits will have its new meal.

🔪If Suguru was jealous and it led to an argument between you two, he would turn on his ultimate weapon—the silent treatment. He’d nonchalantly start hanging out with other people, making sure you noticed just to annoy you and make you jealous. He was well aware of his petty tendencies, but deep down, he simply wished for you to drop the bratty act and apologize.

🔪If you don’t really apologize and just pushed him over the edge... Well, you’ll have to say goodbye to your sanity because suguru is brutal as fuck when it comes to giving punishment.

🔪Unlike Satoru, who would guilt trip and manipulate you, Suguru would take it up a notch on the intensity scale. He wouldn’t shy away from using violence after all. And that doesn’t only apply to the person that he’s envious of, that applies to you too, and satoru. But that’s the difference, Satoru is a good boy, and you’re not.

🔪Suguru would be more than glad to kill someone in front of you and force you to watch it after all. He’ll hurt you too if you thrash and scream instead of being a good girl.

And you can’t really escape the both of them, after all, their love is like a noose.♡

🔪🔪🔪

Suguru’s hand forcefully clamped over your quivering lips, stifling any cries that tried to escape. His breath was hot against your skin, his fingers digging into your flesh with an iron grip, rendering you immobile. The metallic tang of blood invaded your nostrils. Your eyes were wide with terror, pupils shrinking, and your pulse quickening. A sickening view of gore played out before your horrified gaze, crimson splattering the walls, each nauseating squelch echoing through the room.

“I told you to stay away from them and you didn’t listen...” Suguru whispers, his breath hot against your neck, his delicate mouth parting to suck hard upon your pulsing skin, his mouth works its way slowly along your skin. And you shudder involuntarily beneath his touch, fear coursing through you as his lips close around a patch of flesh, sucking hard.

“See...? This is what happens when you disobey.”

The sharp prick of his teeth sends bolts of pain ricocheting through your body. Your already unsettled stomach lurches violently at the sight that greets you as you raise your head, struggling against his grip.

Before you, bound fast to a wooden chair, was the friend you had jokingly flirted with. Tears stream unchecked down their pallid cheeks, mingling with traces of dried blood, as their cries continue to ring in your ears.

Every limb was callously severed, Their bones was protruding out—the metacarpal bones, the carpal bones, the humerus, the ulna, the fibula, and other bones,  Their arms and legs are covered in long, vivid scarlet lines that are three inches wide, intersecting each other in a crisscross pattern and the wounds appear to have breached the surface of their skin, While suguru’s cursed spirits feeds on their severed flesh.

With a low, self-satisfied hum, Satoru drags the tip of the scalpel upwards your friend’s cheek, cutting them and the skin opens, revealing their inner facial muscle. He then reaches out to grasp a fistful of your friend’s hair, yanking their head back sharply to force clouded eyes up to meet your own.

“Suguruuuu, what do i do next? Do we gouge their eyes out for looking at our pretty girl that way?” 

“Do it. She said that she likes their eyes anyways... She’s probably implying that she prefers their eyes over yours.” Suguru smirks, humming as he pressed his body against yours, enjoying the way satoru’s face suddenly fell.

“Haah... Looks like i’ll be enjoying gouging their eyes then.”

[madschiavelique]

Could I request nsfw headcanons for poly tavrem where everyone is jealous of some guy trying to flirt with female Tav but she's doesn't know it's flirting at all please?

ohoho they maddd (not proofread)

content warnings : jealous bitches, mayhaps a bit yandere if you squint, voice kink, knife play, biting, pnv sex, hair pulling, cunnilingus, they're all feral word count : 1.1k

you had stopped at a tavern to treat yourself to a well-deserved meal after a busy day killing enemies. knowing everyone's orders like the back of your hand when it came to their drinks, so you volunteered to go to the counter and order for everyone, leaving the rest of your group to sit at their table. however, while you were standing by the counter waiting to be able to place an order, a young man came up to you, and all pairs of eyes on the table found themselves riveted on you both.

wyll didn't appreciate the way he introduced himself, the young man coming to grab your hand to bring it to his lips without ever taking his eyes off you as he presented himself to you and you nodded. you weren't specifically attentive to his behaviour from what he could see, just smiling politely, but the idea that this fool's simple saliva could have a place on your body led wyll to grip the scabbard of his sword hard.

shadowheart wasn't keen on the fact that he was trying to get so close to you, to have a conversation while his eyes were roaming the length of your body a little too freely for her taste. how dare he gets so close to you? her nose wrinkled in anger when he came to whisper in your ear, and that as he stepped back you were laughing softly.

gale crossed his arms over his chest, frowning and huffing a breath of mockery while the young man performed a meager beginner magic trick to impress you and created a flower that he came to place in your hair. he could do better, he had shown you, even made you learn much better, and the tips of his fingers tingled as he itched to cast a spell on him to turn him into some kind of critter that he could crush.

karlach's body was spitting and crackling little flames of frustration as the fool ran his fingers through your hair, smiling at you when he probably wasn't listen to a single word you could say to him. until recently, the idea of being able to touch you for her was only an idea that she could never reach, and the mere thought that he would allow himself to touch you so simply made her engine growl.

astarion bit the inside of his cheek when the young man had the indecency to approach his hand to your neck, tracing with the tips of his nasty fingers the two marks that the vampire's bite had left on you the night before. what a nerve he had, to let his disgusting mitts approach where he had kissed your skin and whispered praises to thank you for the gift you offered him every night.

lae'zel could not prevent a tchk from escaping her as he pointed to one of your daggers and asked you to show it to him, its blade that she herself had sharpened passing over his unsightly fingers. your blade was far too beautiful to end up in the hands of a microbe like him, and if he pursued this way, it could soon make him discover the taste of the metal of her own sword.

halsin was not jealous by nature, otherwise he would not be able to relish in the relationship that you all had, but there was something in the young man's attitude that deeply displeased him as he put his hand on your shoulder. he had the urge to get it out of the way, to simply stand and walk up to him so that his size alone could lead him to step back from you.

minthara was already imagining how she could capture him and give it as a pittance to her spiders when he took a piece of paper and began to write on it his room number for the evening and he passed it to you. did he think that you were just a body to add to the list of his nocturnal conquests? that you could be worn out like a vulgar puppet for his good pleasures?

the order finally arrived, and you found yourself carrying a huge tray of all kinds of drinks. the young man suggested his help to you, but you refused it as you returned to your companions' table and put down the tray.

“I didn't know they made men as annoying as that anymore,” you sighed before taking a loaf of bread and taking a deep bite from it.

everyone at the table smiled, relief taking them as they all toasted and their frustration subsided, but they were not about to let this go so softly. once you'd came back to the camp, clothes had been thrown off the minute you had settled.

wyll's lips were all over you, kissing your every knuckles and fingers individually before he came to kiss you lips, nibbling the skin of your lower lip as he hummed in relief. if he had to cover the entirity of your body with his own mouth and saliva, he would.

shadowheart was kissing your ear, whispering sweet nothings to you and taking great pleasure to the way your skin covered in goosebumps by the simple sound of her voice and the effects her words were having on you.

gale had made vines grow to hold your body right for them all, your wrists and ankles tangled in plants which perfumes' made you feel all fuzzy and soft and needy for any touch they might provide you.

karlach's hand combed through the hairs on the back of your neck before she pulled on it, arching your back so good for her while her hot tongue licked your lips and jaw with hunger.

astarion's fangs grazed the soft skin of your inner thighs, biting relentlessly and leaving in the trail of his mouth marks after marks that he knew only him and his partner would see and touch on you.

lae'zel had taken your dagger, trailing the new cleaned blade on your body, the cold metal kissing your skin and making you shudder. she covered the handle of it with your slick, thrusting it in you as your back arched.

halsin halsin towered over you, his massive hands keeping you in place by holding your waist and shushing you down as once the dagger got removed his own length took its place.

minthara's tongue was lapping at your cunt, curling around your clit in madening circles before she came to suck on it, her eyes never leaving yours as her nails digged in your thighs.

[hamsternella]

maybe headcanons of Bill Cipher being obsessed with us for being Ford's wife, but at first he feels jealous and gradually that changes as he finds we have equal things (e.g. we are blind, and that makes Bill start to want to get more intimate with us as he has with Ford because he finds that we have also been despised/put aside because of that difference), and maybe he wants to make a deal with us but we refuse out of loyalty to Ford and that makes Bill jealous- but now of Ford, not of us lmao sorry if that is confusing or too specific.

Are you going to write any Gravity Falls fanfic on the side? I've seen your poll and I'm very excited

HELLO, and no problem. Here it is, I hope you like it.

As for the fanfic, I do plan to write one. Actually, it's in drafts; I just need to correct what I have written. I don't know if I should make it long or cut it and put it in chapters.

PART TWO

Bill Cipher being obsessed with you [headcanon]

cw: fem!reader, non-con touching, possessed body, jealousy, maybe a bit of ooc(?

The reason Bill begins to feel his plan is threatened is because of you. As much as Ford has him on a pedestal, you are still the main reason for his early accomplishments. The special person who has been with him since his college discovery years.

You're not like McGucket; your judgment carries paramount weight in Ford's most decisive decisions. You're not a mentally dazzling woman, not like him, but your claws keep you firmly entrenched behind Sixer's back. Bill repudiates that—it makes no sense at all!

As if that weren't enough, the affair culminates with you being blind. Can there be anything much more repugnant than a romance fueled by misfortune? Ford is drawn to your sincere heart, and you support him unconditionally because beyond your husband's obsession, your love for him seems to break down the most terrifying walls. And how can you be afraid of something you can no longer see?

Bill feels he has the enemy breathing behind his back. For the first time he thinks he can't solve everything with a kick to the rock in the middle of the road.

The closest thing to a tantrum you get from him —unknowingly— are regular nightmares, a weak body and constant paranoia about unfamiliar sounds and sensations. Your home is suddenly a new world; frightening and strange. Because of this you become clumsy and unpredictable, and even your husband doesn't understand what it is that has you so off track.

Bill can't use his influence on your reality at all, but through Ford and other extensions, as well as fine print manipulations, he manages to reach you without arousing suspicion.

''I've told you many times, Bill,'' sighed Ford with his back turned, both hands placed on his journal. ''I don't think I can go through with this completely until I manage to find a way to help my wife.''

''Isn't this a sign that it's time to get her out of your way?''

"Excuse me?’’ The man turned his attention to the demon; his eyes laden with bitterness and desolation. ''What do you mean by that? I can't abandon my wife, Cipher—she would never do something like that to me.''

''Well,'' Bill chuckled, ''it's not like she's really done anything for you all this time. This project is our thing, Fordsy, and it shouldn't be interrupted by a little stumble that doesn't even belong to us. Or are you going to give up everything you've sacrificed for this?''

''You have understood me like no other, Bill; I admit that there is no person or creature existing on this planet who can do all that you have done for me,'' admitted Ford solemnly. ''But she's my wife—she's been around even before you, when I was nobody. When I had nothing. And even when I came to Gravity Falls and left everything behind she was always there. Bill, I... I can't, I'm sorry.''

Bill held back another complaint, beginning to notice that things were not working out the way he had wanted. Your clumsiness didn't kill Ford's patience or control, but what little sanity —if any— there was in him. It was humiliating; Bill Cipher losing to a human being, a random woman—blind, to make it worse.

The demon was beginning to withdraw in on himself, frustration rising to anger, when Ford's voice from the entrance to the room drew his gaze back. There was a different gleam in his companion's, and Cipher understood with annoyance where the conversation would end up now.

Your husband introduces you to the possible solution to all your problems: Mr. Cipher, a doctor and close friend of Stanford. A mysterious man with a booming voice that makes your hair stand on end, but at the end of the day a man of studies and degrees. Of course you were going to trust your husband's recommendation.

''What a coincidence that you happened to be passing by, sir! Thank you for offering to help me. That's very kind of you.''

Bill starts pretending to be your personal doctor in search of a miracle solution to your problems. It's not hard to avoid contact with you to hide the truth; Ford tries hard to keep the situation straight.

If the demon hated you before, now you better start praying.

Cipher understands that he needs to play along with Ford if he wants the project to stay on track, even if that means starting to help you heal while containing his desire to get rid of you.

Maybe if he possessed Stanford and took advantage of you during your naps.

Maybe.

But he knows better than that—Ford isn't stupid. Not stupid enough, at least.

It was humiliating to have to take care of what he himself had caused, but it's not as if Bill could afford any other way to get back on the project. Ford was all he had. Where was he going to get someone else capable enough? This had been fate; interrupted at the last minute by the appearance of a bad third. This was all your fault. Blind little rat—woman busybody with a sweet smile and giggly voice. Cipher understood why Sixer was where he was with you, on the one hand. On the other it was all the same: a whim that cost dearly. Who needed someone like you? What was the benefit? Sex, maybe? But Bill Cipher was a thousand times better than something so banal! Please…

Bill rolled his eye, snapping his fingers to undo the nightmare you were in. As soon as your dream was undone you let out an exclamation of surprise, jumping on the bed. You brought a hand to your face, feeling the sweat, and almost immediately moved your body to where he lay. Cipher held back surprise, finding himself genuinely intrigued.

''Doctor,'' you whispered hoarsely, ''good afternoon. I... Forgive me, I think I fell asleep—it was sudden, I don't know what came over me...''

''Did you know it was me here with you?''

The smile you gave him threw him off. A ''Well, yes, isn't it very obvious?'' kind of grimace.

''Does your husband know that you have these nightmares during our therapies?''

'Therapies' sounded fancy, but it was shorthand for the tortures Bill forced you to go through; a theater of supposed recovery to cover up his need to hurt you.

“He doesn't know, doctor. I haven't told him, if I'm honest,'' you replied. ''Please don't tell him anything.''

''It would be unethical!''

‘’Pretending to be a doctor is also unethical, sir,’’ you laughed. ''I am blind, not stupid.’’

Killing you was going to be the only solution to all of this—although from that day on nothing else ever happened.

Bill has to accept that you have a lot of tricks up your sleeve. You're not just any woman anymore; being Ford's wife had to have been warning enough for him.

You continue to not remind him of his charade and allow him to continue 'treating' you, while your husband resumes the plans for the portal.

Surprisingly, Bill seems to have found interest in something much more striking.

You.

The nightmares subside, your mood and judgment improve, and Cipher finds a strange pleasure in this new side of you: much more alert, more talkative and wittier. You have your charm.

But it's your husband who pulls the reins. Bill gets it right away.

Evenings with you aren't exactly revelatory like they are with Ford, who always has enough data and information to surprise everyone with. With you it's different; it's something much more intimate and almost forgotten by Bill. He knows so much that it would be impossible to be taken by surprise—but you manage to do it.

He is overcome with a nostalgic and unpleasant feeling, but which ironically keeps him alive as he decides to lie to Ford.

Bill doesn't want to let you go. It's strange. Maybe he got used to another glaring presence besides Sixer? Torturing you a little more in silence to keep you under his care should not be a stupid thing to do at all.

Cipher encounters another particular feeling: curiosity. He needs to know why you know what you know; and what it is, above all else, that keeps you here.

What keeps you with so much power over him, Bill Cipher.

''Are you saying that I have tricks up my sleeve? I don't get it, doctor...''

''Oh! Oh, please,'' Bill interrupted, thunderous laughter bouncing across the room. ''You know I'm no doctor; the title is ridiculous.''

''Should I call you 'Mr. Cipher' instead?''

Bill held back a sigh, rubbing his eye for a moment before orbiting around you. If you had noticed, you didn't say or do anything. Your eyes, white as opaque pearls, remained fixed on a corner of the room.

''Since when did you know I wasn't a doctor? No, better yet, since when did you know I wasn't human?''

''Well, it's not quite like that either,'' you replied under a soft laugh. ''You just revealed to me that you are not human. As for the doctor thing... Well, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think that dream therapies and transverse snoring with citrus scent induction while dipping my feet in spoiled milk is something a professional would recommend.''

Bill pretended not to be offended.

''Besides that,'' you continued, ''I know my husband very well. I know that he hides dangerous things down there, where I cannot reach by myself, just as I know everything that has been happening is not the product of chance.''

''Did you know all this time that your nightmares and fears have been my doing?''

‘’No, not really. You just confessed it to me.''

‘’Oh, come on!’’ Bill shook his fists in the air, abruptly remembering that you couldn't see him. It was strange, you seemed to know the world you inhabited even though your eyes wouldn't let you. The thought made the demon orbit around you again, returning in front of you. Opaque pearls; gaze lost in the open. "I've had a majestic revelation at this very moment! Do you want to hear it, or will your big, bold woman brain let you know in advance what I have to say?”

"I have a slight feeling you don't like me.”

“Yes or no!”

“Of course, tell me.”

"I have to assume you weren't born blind; this must be the product of an accident," Cipher began to say. "That would explain why the hell you do everything you do, and why the fuck you know where I am.”

"That's right, Mr. Cipher," you nodded. "I've had an accident, though I suppose you know that because you've infiltrated me. Either that, or my husband told you.”

"So you did know that I'm a demon?”

“You just—”

“Oh, shut up! Don't fucking say it again.”

Your coexistence with Bill becomes pleasant, despite the early revelation of his nature and his having been the cause of your misfortunes.

Cipher comes to believe that he may have been wrong; maybe you were stupid after all.

But that would be crazy! Unlike with Ford, with you the feelings are extremely nostalgic and warm. There is no trace of some kind of farce or genuine morbid interest behind your words. You believe everything you say.

Bill, who despite not sleeping or dreaming, being haunted by the memory of screams and an old distorted and flat reality, finds in your company a comfort zone that makes him delirious.

Sadly, your heart and your judgment is still tied to Sixer—as if that brainiac cared at all!

Bill begins to drive Ford crazy; he feeds him extensive knowledge, possesses him more often to enjoy the benefits, and then alters his memories, making it difficult for him to know what is truth and what is a lie.

Where he can no longer meet your needs, Bill is always there to dazzle you.

You jumped in your seat, feeling your husband's warm hands wrap around your neck. Fingers, rough from machines and dust, caressed your skin awkwardly, drawing a chuckle from you. His breath came to you from above, as if he had just sighed in delight at your reaction. When you felt him rest his hands on your shoulders, you slowly brought one of yours to caress the back of his. You felt him tremble.

''I thought you were sleeping?'' you asked with genuine interest. ''Is everything all right? All these days you've been doing the same thing.''

''Do you mind, beautiful?''

You stifled a laugh.

''No, Ford, your company would never be a bother to me... Are you smelling my hair?''

‘’I just can’t get enough of you.’’

You felt him circle your body, delineating one of the chairs near you so he could relax his body in it. You didn't last long without his hands—as soon as he resumed his seat, you felt his fingers intertwining with yours. This time it was more consistent and comfortable; not like all those days where it seemed like your husband had forgotten how to use his own body.

''Oh, dear! Seeing you with these two orbs of nerves and membrane is amazing! You look even more dazzling.''

Although the comments without any context or sense were still there.

''I'm not that great,'' you said with a small laugh. A little shy. Ford didn't used to give you so many compliments. “How's your project going?’’

‘’That thing? Good, very good. Excellent, my dear! Maybe you could see for yourself—oh, well, you can't,'' he guffawed. ''Right. Whatever! Hey, uh, can I ask you a question?''

‘’Y-Yeah, sure, honey.’’ You cleared your throat. ‘’What’s the matter?’’

''Hypothetical scenario. You're married, but you're not quite fulfilled. Suppose someone comes along who is much better than your husband,'' he explained. ''He's smart, funny, multifunctional, powerful, extra-dimensional, or very soon will be, and also very stylish!'' Silence. Moments later an exclamation. ''Do you have a favorite color? His favorite color is yellow!''

‘’I… I mean, sorry, but I actually don’t understand at all where’s the question.’’

‘’Don’t be silly! Would you leave your husband for this entity—excuse me, for this person?''

‘’What?’’

‘’The heck.’’

Another booming laugh, and though you tried to accompany it with your own, the sound that came from you was choppy and awkward. This exchange was strange.

''I can't find a reason to leave my husband for this so-called mystery person,'' you replied. ''I am supposed to have married him for a reason which should be more than enough. Ford,'' you rushed on, ''is this regarding Mr. Cipher?''

''Why?'' he asked at once. ''Why do you think of him all of a sudden? Do you feel something forbidden about him in this marriage?''

''But of course not!''

''What do you mean ‘no’?!’’

His hands let go of yours. The chair in front of you seemed to be dragged, the wood against the floor squeaking with the sudden friction. The movement had taken you by surprise.

‘’Ford?’’

''Why are you so happy? Why, huh?'' he sighed, frustrated. ''Haven't I abandoned you every night in a freezing bed, while I prefer the company of machines? Cipher has been very kind to you and kept you company!''

''Ford, what are you—wait. Wait a moment... Bill, is this you?'' You covered your mouth, terrified at the discovery. Your companion didn't respond and you simply let out a shaky breath. ''Are you possessing my husband?’’

‘’Damn, that was fast.’’

‘’That’s awful!’’

"There was full consent!" added Bill with a chuckle. "This is a man-to-man thing, my pretty little fleshbag. Something between colleagues, plain and simple. You needn't fear—Bill Cipher is taking care of everything.”

"But it's horrendous anyway!" you exclaimed with your voice splitting. "It all makes sense now... The words, the touches, the way you acted—it was all a sham! You were using my husband!”

"Oh, please, little one. Wasn't it you who dreamed of being able to touch me?”

"You, not a substitute class using Stanford's body! Have you two been doing these kinds of exchanges all along?”

"It's just that there was a change of plans!”

“A change? What—”

“I mean, I tried to kill you; but it's not that easy now,” he laughed.

You tried to calm your breathing. Your heart was beating painfully against your chest, and your whole body was trembling. This wasn't right, obviously. It was like a vivid nightmare.

“Not that I want to do it, of course.”

“Why?” you asked after a long silence.

You felt the presence of your husband's body very close to you. A pair of hands rested on your cheeks, caressing them with his fingers very softly; the touches getting lost under the trembling of your figure when you heard again a sigh of delight. Something was up.

“You know,” he whispered, “I think we could make a deal. A little, pretty one, and just for you.”

“A deal? A deal with a demon, you mean. No, thank you.”

“Oh, come on! It will be fun!”

“And it makes no sense.”

Bill turned away from you, returning to his chair to take a seat across from your body.

"What exactly is it that Ford gives you that I can't manage to satisfy? Because very soon the little project will be complete, and I will have full disposal of many wonderful tricks to take care of you, my dear," he continued. "An eternity together! We'll be able to create and tell thousands of new stories; to travel across the world and let you experience hundreds of new sensations. We'll be unstoppable! Incomparable!”

"That's not the way things work, Bill…”

"Things work because of the strongest. I will soon be the only one with that title.”

"What will happen to Ford?" you asked haltingly. "What will you do to my husband?”

"He's my co-worker, dear.”

"You're hiding something from me.”

"So what if it is? He doesn't matter here! It's our time... You're mine.”

The way your husband's voice was beginning to distort sent a shiver through your body. You loved Ford—you missed him. The idea that you had been kissing the lips of a man possessed a couple of days ago was turning your stomach. Your silence seemed to feed something inside the demon; his voice thundered, totally changed, across the room.

"A few weeks ago you said you missed the stars," added Bill. "The last time you saw them was when you were a teenager. I miss the stars too—the ones I saw with a different eye. It's not the same anymore. Nothing is, since..." Silence. You didn't dare interrupt the creature who seemed to be drowning in bitter memory. It took him a while to pull himself together; a split laugh piercing your ears like an arrow. "Oh, the misery! I thought it repulsive the way you two looked so united over something so pathetic. Anyway, what does the past matter now, what does misery matter! There's no such thing being with Bill Cipher. You'll want for nothing.”

"I refuse, Bill.”

"And I refuse too," he laughed. "See? We can play the same game, silly. I don't recommend testing my patience, though.”

The touch of palms against the warm skin of your neck took you by surprise. The roughness of those fingers you loved so much were now forbidding you to breathe; the softness of moist lips pressing against yours, taking advantage of the way you parted yours to find a sliver of air. You soon struggled against your husband's body, desperate to deny the foreign tongue that flicked unseemly and inexperienced inside you. Bill was drowning in an unfamiliar feeling that felt too good. You were soft, fragile. Your flesh was tender and warm, quivering like an animal about to die—he was going to devour it to the bone. Was this what Ford had been doing with you? You liked it?

He could kill you. He could end your life when the portal was complete; he could take advantage of Ford, as he had been doing all this time, and keep the prize all to himself. Why was it so hard? What was it you had done to him? Was Ford a victim too? The thought burned like a fierce fury at the back of his mind—jealousy once again. The need to own even the crumbs. Ford wouldn't have the right to be your victim anymore. This feeling was too good for that brainiac to understand, surely he never did.

But Bill understood everything. He was incomparable. He could dominate your life and hold the reins as well as Ford had been doing. No. Cipher was going to do better! Did you miss your husband's domination? Bill would be your ruler; he would destroy obstacles and build better ones to keep you in check. Maybe a little training and you'd become a beautiful little bag of flesh and muscle—tight, warm and obedient. And who knows if you'd end up exceeding his expectations! Who knows if a little gift occupying your orbs would give you the chance to enjoy the same star-studded sky together.

"Don't think too much," whispered Bill pantingly. "There's plenty of other things to do than something as dull as that. Don't worry your pretty little head.”

You shook your head, surrendered to crying. Your husband's hands had left your neck, but now they wrapped around your wet cheeks, offering shy caresses.

"From now on you're going to use it when I say so. Everything will be that way, and you know why?”

A crooked laugh vibrated against his chest, reaching you through his hands.

"Because now you will be my new pet. A special one! The best of them all… You could say ‘muse’, even. Isn't that beautiful, dear?”

A cold kiss. The last one.

“Aren't you, above all, beautiful too?”

[revelboo]

Any tips for getting over nerves for posting writings or headcanons in the transformers fandom... I'm trying my best to not be do nervous

In my case, I tend to think of these short form fics as first drafts- I’m telling myself a story and it doesn’t have to be perfect (that’s what they were always meant to be, but things got a bit out of hand), but that mentality helps so I don’t fret and stress about whether it’s good enough. If it makes you happy, go for it!

Bad Idea Pt 20

TFP Soundwave x Reader

• Sprawled flat on your back, staying out of the pool is harder than you’d have thought. Mostly because when he leaves, you’re bored out of your mind. Really need to ask him if there’s anything you can do. Doubt you can actually help him in any way, but it’s infuriating being directionless. Useless. Glancing at the pool, you catch big bird shuffling slightly on his perch. Watching and waiting for you to screw up so he can tattle. Or so he can try to drown you. Figuring out what the drone’s thinking as his head tips, staring at you, is beyond you. Though, you’ve been trying to play nice for Soundwave. To pretend you don’t hate his awful brat.

• Tendrils drawing closer to his frame as he works to repair a console, Soundwave goes out of his way to pointedly not look in the direction of Megatron’s throne. Specifically the warlord’s little human since aside from a faintly jingling harness and a short little mostly sheer covering, they’re bare. Already one of the Vehicons had glanced at the human, attention drawn by the faint, silvery sound of the harness and Megatron had smashed them face first into a console. Repeatedly. Making more work for him. Knows his oldest friend’s moods are ever shifting. That he’d dressed the human that way knowing someone would look and knowing he’d lash out. Amusing himself by causing chaos.

• “Hey, big bird,” you call out and his plating ruffles up in jagged, offended angles. Well. You’re off to a great start. “Look, you could tell me your name if you don’t want me to call you that. I mean, we should get along.” Especially since you’re banging his alien daddy. Which, come to think of it, is probably most of why he hates you. Shuffling further away from you on his perch, he turns his back to you in an obvious dismissal. Alright then, so much for that. “Don’t be that way. I can call you worse things.” And he’s glaring hatefully at you again. “Like Tweetie Pie.”

• Stilling as Megatron slips up beside him, idly toying with a loose wire as he surveys the damage he’d done without any guilt, Soundwave waits. “You have a human, too,” Megatron says swapping to Cybertronian and it’s not really a question, but he inclines his head anyway. Studying the warlord, there’s something like uncertainty in his optics and the grim set of his mouth. And he wonders what Megatron’s human is to him. A toy? A distraction? Or do you actually matter? “Does yours care for you?” Tendrils flicking restlessly, it clicks. Megaton’s so used to just taking, conquering. But genuine affection? That’s not something he can demand and just seize for himself. It’s something he has to earn, so you must matter to him. Isn’t sure what to make of that.

• Shrieking and ducking when big bird dives at your head, you run away swearing. Why couldn’t you just leave him alone? But no, you had to antagonize the little psycho. Had known the second his optics had dimmed that he was somehow looking up the name the way Soundwave had done when the little brat had blabbed that you’d called him a DILF. And big bird slams into your back, knocking you flat. Grabbing and pulling your hair with his beak while you smack at him and curse. And a shadow falls across you both. Eyes wide, you realize there’s a masked and visored mech you don’t know looming over you. And he awkwardly lifts a hand. “Question,” he says and big bird pinches your ear hard, before turning to face the stranger, wings flared aggressively. Protecting you? The stranger backs away immediately, both hands up submissively.

Previous

Next

[urdgealesisbaby]

so this might be a little vague but bare with me, do you think you could write abt uta, kaneki, or juuzou (separately ofc) from tg. nothing specific, it can be whatever you want <3

Hello! Thanks for the cute request!

I decided to make some soft headcanons with their s/o for them,I hope that's good!  

Uta,Kaneki Ken and Juuzou Suzuya being soft with their s/o

Uta

-a very specific kind of softness

-he has some sweet spots only you can activate for him

-when he's feeling creative,he will tattoo you as a way for showing love for his s/o

-if you don't like tattoos then it's fine too,he likes having you try masks on

-seeing you in masks made by him just pleases him so much

-if you compliment his skills at making a mask,he'll just melt on the spot

-I headcanon him as a kind of lonely guy so making compliments for him is a very intimate thing to him

-really likes it though

Kaneki Ken

-a very soft person to begin with

-like he isn't cold or anything,especially with you

-very careful around you and he doesn't want to make you mad

-likes to buy you flowers without an occasion

-surprises and gifts are a way to express his feelings towards you,his darling

-he loves you and he showers you with compliments of all kinds

-be kind to him,he's always stressed that he's not good enough for you

-poor baby

Juuzou Suzuya

-trauma boy,I have so much empaty towards him no words can describe how sorry I feel for him

-he kind of never experienced true love

-not until you showed up though,then he started to feel those weird things that he can't describe even now when you're in a relationship with him

-he likes cuddles.You can't change my mind

-he's always crawling on you even if you're at work

-he likes to show you off,always talks about you no matter that there's a serious meeting

-he will be talking about you because he loves you so much

-really appreciates the fact that you accepted him as he is

Thank you for the request and I hope you liked these!

[pukefactory]

Headcanons of Platonic HCS Between Dandy and Reader,who Reader is actually his Older brother as he Had a show way before Dandy existed,please i wanna see sibling bond

Admittedly, this was somewhat challenging to write, given the need to place Dandy in such a specific setting. However, I believe it turned out well in the end. Enjoy!

⋘ » RETIRE « ⋙

𖧵 Summary: A compilation of headcanons featuring Dandy and his older sibling

𖧵 Character(s): Dandicus Dancifer (Dandy’s World)

𖧵 Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, SFW

𖧵 Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

𖧵 Image Credits: Qwelver

✿ Dandy absolutely idolized you growing up. Before his show took off, he watched yours religiously, memorizing every episode and imitating your mannerisms. Even now, he sometimes slips into old catchphrases from your show without realizing it. If you call him out on it, he just huffs and changes the subject.

✿ Despite his pride, Dandy feels guilty about your show being canceled for his. He never wanted to take anything from you, and even though he knows it wasn’t technically his fault, he still avoids the topic whenever it comes up. If you ever reassure him that you don’t blame him, he’ll freeze for a moment before quickly brushing it off—he’s not great at handling kindness directed toward himself.

✿ Sibling rivalry is alive and well. You two can bicker about anything, from whose theme song was catchier to who had the better merchandise line. Dandy will argue that his success proves he was the better star, but if you ever remind him that you were the reason he even got a show in the first place, he immediately shuts up.

✿ Dandy doesn’t let anyone badmouth you. If another Toon even suggests that your show was outdated or forgettable, his usual cheery demeanor falters for just a second. He won’t snap—he has an image to maintain—but he’ll lean in, voice just a little too sweet, and say, “Oh? Is that what you think?” Needless to say, the conversation doesn’t last much longer.

✿ He still remembers the advice you gave him before his show aired. Even if he pretends he came up with everything on his own, your words stuck with him. Whenever he feels like he’s losing control, he subconsciously repeats your old words of encouragement in his head—little reminders that he can handle this, just like you always told him.

✿ You tease him relentlessly about his obsession with being liked. You’ve known him long enough to see through his act, and you’re not afraid to poke fun at his need for approval. If he starts getting anxious over not making a sale, you’ll pat him on the head and say, “Aw, is my baby brother feeling ignored?” He hates it.

✿ When he’s at his lowest, you’re one of the few people he can be honest with. He won’t admit everything—there are things he still wants to keep hidden—but when the weight of his secrets gets too heavy, he finds himself seeking you out. He won’t say what’s wrong, but he’ll sit next to you in silence, waiting for the comfort of just being understood.

✿ You still act like his older sibling, no matter how famous he is. Dandy could be at the height of his career, and you’d still ruffle his petals like he’s a kid. If anyone else tried, he’d snap at them, but for you? He’ll tolerate it—begrudgingly.

✿ He keeps a piece of your old merch hidden away. It’s nothing flashy, just a little trinket from when your show was still on the air. He doesn’t display it, doesn’t talk about it—but if he ever needs reassurance, he’ll hold onto it, like a quiet reminder of where he came from.

[victoria-grimesss]

Hi ❤️🥰🫶🏻 I really love your writing style and enjoy all your content. Sorry if this is a bothersome question but your name and Norman profile picture made me curious…. Would you be willing to write some headcanons for Daryl? Hope you have a nice week 🙏🏻

Daryl Dixon Headcanons SFW & NSFW

masterlist ->Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader ->Warning: MDNI! fluff and some smut ->A/N: Thanks for the request, TWD was my first fandom so I’m always down to write for it, especially Daryl. :) I just did some general Fem!Reader ones since that's what I mainly write for but DO let me know if there's any other specific ones you'd like to see. I also hope you have a nice week! Sorry this took so long!

SFW:

He would show affection through acts of service, (getting you something you needed during a run, fixing something around the house that you mentioned was broken, or cleaning your gun if you were too busy to do it. He has a lot to think about throughout the day, but he keeps tabs on things you like or need, he’s always thinking about you.

Around Alexandria when you both were there you would both spend a-lot of time in silence together just being in each others presence. He would be working on his bike and you would be reading a book just being together.

In general, there becomes an almost rhythm to your relationship, you walk together, eat together, go on runs together, most of the time you both just enjoy simply being together. Having the privilege to be alive and be next to one other. Eventually people start assuming one doesn't go somewhere without the other, "Y/N and Daryl this, Y/N and Daryl that. It's cute.

Not a fan of PDA, he was never that kind of person but he likes it when you fix a piece of his hair that's out of line, or adjust his vest so it sits better on him. He likes to know you care, he does get butterflies when you call him handsome even though he doesn't show it. Aside from a little smile and a dip of his head, "You don't know what you're talkin' bout girl.

He always admires your strength, you've made it this far and he admires the skills you've picked up along the way. Someone is doing something wrong that you're a pro at? "You're doing that wrong ya know, let me get Y/N, she'll show you how to do it right."

He always had a crush on you, always was looking out for you. You caught his eyes lingering quite some times over the campfire before you were both together, he's look away quick but he knew you saw. What can he say, he loved seeing you blush.

Once you're together he's less reserved about his staring and you'll catch his eyes roaming your body more than a couple times.

Not a master in flirting whatsoever but when he held out his hand, arm all the way outstretched to give you a bundle of wildflowers you were a goner. "Got ya these, said you liked em' found some while I was out."

He's a light sleeper but he loves to lay on your chest and feel you run your fingers through his hair it knocks him out in five minutes minimum.

Will avoid the regular medics in town and just come right to you, you've stitched him up for this long and he likes it when you fix him up and scold him at the same time for not being more careful.

"D, honey this is going to need stiches.."

"I know, you can just do it, you do it the same way as the doctors anyway."

"Fine, just- only if you get some antibiotics. Can't have you dying on me from a fuckin infection."

"Yea whatever you want girl."

Knows you can handle yourself but he always has an eye out for you when you're out on runs or outside the walls.

Boosts his ego when you ask him to flex and you swoon.

You both never got properly married, you haven't gotten around to finding rings but when a new group entered the town you just said you were his wife for simplicities sake and because why not you've been together so long and everyone else thinks of you two married. Loves hearing people call you Y/N Dixon.

NFSW:

He's home late often, it's a normal occurrence but sometimes when he's gone for a good long while and you hear his boots finally trudging up the stairs you get a little giddy, butterflies filling your stomach and you grow warmer just thinking about having him back in bed.

This can go one of two ways; number one is you welcome him into bed slowly, it's raining and he's cold to the bone just wanting to warm up with you. The room is dark and only the moonlight illuminates his broad shoulders as his body leans over yours, hips rolling into you with a smooth and rhythmic motion. His arms caging you in so your whole field of vision and mind is filled with him. His head would dip to your ear, teeth biting at your neck. "Missed ya', thought about you a lot on the way back."

The second way is when he's frustrated, the run didn't go how he wanted, didn't find enough, he's pent up more than usual and you welcome his release of energy with open arms. He's got one hand on your hips and the other gripping the headboard, knuckles turned white from gripping it trying to maintain some kind of composure when he's driving himself deeper inside you, eyes dark as your nails bite at his chest. Damp hair hanging in his face and the room is filled with the noise of your heavy breathing and the wetness between the both of you. "You like that? Fuck, yea ya do."

He prefers being together in the privacy of your own home, where he can put his undivided attention all on you. But that doesn't mean you both don't get creative.. you've fucked in almost every room, you both agreed the attic was just too out there, insulation is the biggest mood killer.

He's always been a man for quick showers, get clean and get out. But one time you were both on a time crunch and you had a great idea to share the shower, save water right? He couldn't keep his eyes off of you, the way the soap and water kept gliding over your body had him hard in like 0.5 seconds so needless to say you were late, something about making out underneath the stream of water added something he couldn't get enough of. Bruises on the back of your thighs from him fucking you against the shower wall lingered for some time.

He loves seeing you get ready in the morning, he's got the perfect view from the bed into the bathroom to watch the whole process, sometimes if he's feeling extra needy he'll come into the bathroom and gently bend you over, bringing himself out of his sweatpants and watching your face through the mirror as he slides himself in.

More than once he's thought about you riding him on his bike, with you just wearing his vest. While it's stationary of course, he's not that reckless.

Definitely does not care if you're on your period, you really think a little blood will stop him if you both want each other? Hell no. He didn't understand why you thought it was an issue the first time it came up.

Not incredibly jealous but it creeps in on him sometimes, when a new guy shows you a little more attention than he liked he gets cold with you later that day. Not because he thinks you'll cheat on him or the guy might make a move but that he thinks he himself isn't good enough for you, which you just won't stand for so on a few separate occasions you'll set him down on the couch and get down on your knees and remind him how much you love him.

He's a man that respects his woman so he's more than happy to return the favor, hands held tight on your thighs that are wrapped around his head, his tongue darting around and his lips wrapping around you and pulling his favorite noises from you. "Look at you, fuck, gonna cum for me? Atta girl."

He's careful about where he finishes, he wants nothing more than to dive completely into you and let you take all of him but if you're both not ready for what may come from that he's fine with painting your stomach or more preferably your chest, he's a tits guys for sure.

Aftercare is quiet and calm with him, both of you cleaned up and your head on his chest, the window is open to cool you both down and so the smoke from his after sex cigarette can sneak out.

[janitorhutcherson]

i'm totally NOT touch starved so IM TOTALLY NOT asking for peeta mellark and touch starved reader... totally NOT. (i love your writing sm ☺️)

i am FINALLY giving the people what they want!! i know this isn't a whole fic/imagine but instead headcanons, BUT! it is finally peeta. i promise there will be more peeta content in the future. im working my way through the movies again and im about to reread the books, i want to be accurate about his portrayal so y'all feel like its more realistic, but here is a lil taste of what is to come! i rly hope you enjoy <3 btw!! this takes place after EVERYTHING in the books. ur basically katiness.

• Peeta is a huge softy, he's cuddly, loving, affectionate, and definitely touch starved himself. He's the type of guy to mostly have his own contact with you in some way. Sometimes he will grip onto your arm, he'll have his arm around your shoulder or your waist, or even just grip onto your shirt. When you're sitting on the couch, he opts to sit hip to hip even when the entirety of the couch is empty. When you're not cuddling in bed, you're facing opposite sides, sleeping butt-to-butt. Even with that being said, sometimes Peeta needed some space, his own bubble. You, however, did not love that.

• This is exactly why it was somewhat difficult for Peeta to understand touchstarved!reader. Regardless of how close you were, you needed more. Anytime you're walking in the district, rather it's to pick up some ingredients for the bakery or simply a leisurely walk, if he opted not to hold on to you in some way, you'd freak a little. You'd grip onto his hand, either squeezing it in yours or holding onto his larger fingers.

• Whenever dishes were being done or chores were tended to, you would wrap your arms around his waist from behind or follow him at the heel. You were desperate for his attention, his affection, his touch. Without it, you felt cold and disconnected. His touch pleased the ache that prickled against your skin from years of desperately wanting to be held.

• At night, you'd squeeze up under his arm. Your head would be tucked into his armpit, your arms wrapped around him as you tugged him close, closing your eyes and taking in his smell. When you'd fall asleep facing away from each other, Peeta wouldn't even notice you flip over to face him once he was fast asleep, curling up against him, squeezing him tightly like your life depended on it.

• In all honesty? It felt like your life did depend on it. You were a tribute alongside with Peeta, you'd both been through hell and back together. You had nightmares and he was the only one that could ground them. Part of your touch starved desperation came from the times you were alone, afraid, for yourself, for your lover. It was difficult.

• A lot of nights Peeta would ensure he'd hold you close, all too aware that he was the cure to your nightly insanity. This made you feel better, softer, warmer. On days when you were simply cuddling in bed together, you felt like you couldn't get enough. Your legs would be tangled with his, your foreheads touching, arms wrapped around one another. But nothing felt good enough. In instances like these, you would climb into his shirt, sticking your head through the hole for his own head, one that was stretched out from the many times you'd done this, one he specifically designated as his lounge shirt for this reason. Other times you would both strip your clothes off, cuddling skin to skin while Peeta would stroke your hair, pressing soft kisses to your forehead.

• All in all, Peeta is a gentle and caring lover, understanding of your needs. He'd do his best to meet them, even when it meant staying glued to your hip. He loved you, the history you two had, the stuff you'd been through, and he'd do anything to ensure your happiness and your safety. After all, you were who saved him, who kept him grounded as well, the love of his life... but, his thoughts are for another story.