#i get to shit on his ginger ass more than usual

[onlyfezco]

Obvious - Fezco

Summary: You insist on meeting your cousin Rue's drug dealer and an interesting friendship develops in the process.

Fezco x Reader

Word Count: 4,840

Author's Note: Started this in March of 2022 and it's finally getting posted lol. This is my first Fezco fic since Angus' passing which is so hard to type I'm crying at that. I still miss him. A lot. Dividers from @firefly-graphics

Rue was your closest cousin. Not that you had many, and the few you did have lived somewhere outside of East Highland, but that was beside the point. She was a year younger than you, so the two of you spent most of your childhood glued to one another. When her dad died, you saw the toll it took on her. You realized then that she started using but she played it off like she had it all under control. That’s what an addict does. Eventually you did confront her about it. She said it was mostly weed, so you let it slide. One day she had you drive her to restock her supply. That’s when you met Fezco for the first time.

“So you’re the guy selling my baby cousin drugs,” you blurted out after Rue did a quick introduction then started making her way to Ashtray behind the refrigerated drinks.

“Y/N, what the fuck,” Rue shouted at you annoyed. “You’re only a year older than me.”

“A year and three months,” you corrected. You only got specific with the three months to annoy Rue. You crossed your arms over your chest as you eyed the ginger sitting on the counter in front of you. “And how old are you?”

Fez observed you carefully. It’s not everyday some random person immediately brings up him selling drugs directly to his face. Especially a cute random person. “You always talk to new people like this?”

“Only when my cousin’s health is at stake.” You sighed and shook your head. “Look, I don’t have beef with you. I realized a while ago that Rue’s gonna do what she wants. I just want to make sure she’s being safe about it... well, as safe as you can get with drugs.”

Fez nodded along as you spoke understanding your concern for your cousin. He knew Rue wasn’t going around promoting that she was doing drugs or that he sold. You were just looking out for her. “I get it.”

“I’ve heard too many stories about people overdosing on Fentanyl or something they didn’t know was laced with Fentanyl. I don’t want to find out that happened to my cousin.”

“You don’t have to worry, ma. I don’t mess with that shit. All my stuff is good.”

You squinted at him taking in his words. “Better be. Otherwise I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Fez chuckled. He didn’t doubt for a second you wouldn’t fight behind Rue. “Understood.”

“You go to school with Rue? I ain’t never seen you ‘round before.” Fez went to most of the East Highland High School parties to deal. Since he’s never seen you there, either you didn’t go to that school, or you didn’t go to parties. Either way, he was missing out on you. 

“Oh God, no,” you said. “I go to Centenary.”

“Oh, so you smart smart.” You smiled and rolled your eyes at Fezco’s statement, and he decided right then and there that was something he wanted to see more of.

“Something like that,” you replied giggling.

“You ready to go, Y/N,” Rue popped up practically out of no where and asked. Damn, why did Rue have to be so quick.

“Uhh, yeah,” you said to your cousin. Rue shoved her hands into her dad’s old maroon jacket and started to walk out the store. You turned to Fezco and said, “I’m gonna be watching you, sir.”

Fez smiled at the thought. “I look forward to it, ma.”

After that, you made a few impromptu trips to Fez’s store without Rue. You told him your grandma lived in the neighborhood, which she did, so it wasn’t a lie. But Fez did point out that before Rue, you had never came to the store before. 

“I mean I could always go somewhere else for my carbonated beverages if you want,” you said as you turned on your heel to leave the store without making your usual purchase.

“Nah,” Fez replied grabbing your wrist stopping you, “I ain’t say all that.”

When your mom told you that Rue overdosed, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. Maybe if you had told your Aunt Leslie what Rue was doing, she could have got some help. But you knew Rue. Ever since her dad’s death she had been struggling. She would have to finally deal with that grief if she was going to stop, and you knew that was the last thing she wanted to do.

A few days after Rue’s overdose, you went to visit Fezco. You weren’t sure if he knew or not. Even though he was her dealer, he was close to Rue, so you thought he should know. And it would be better coming from you than to hear it on the street.

“Well if it isn’t Y/N Y/L/N,” Fezco greeted you with a smile on his face. 

You tried to smile at the red head, but it was weak. “Hey Fezco.”

“What’s wrong,” Fez asked, immediately knowing something was up.

You walked to him fiddling with your fingers nervous to tell him about your cousin. “Uh... it’s Rue,” you said looking up at him with somber eyes. “She overdosed.”

Fez’s face became tense. He didn’t question it. He wasn’t shocked, just sad.

You couldn’t take looking into his piercing blue eyes any longer and set your eyes on the candy on the counter. “She’s still at the hospital going through withdrawals. Aunt Leslie’s going to put her in rehab when she gets out.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Fez said as he placed his hand on your arm to comfort you. Your eyes met his again and you could tell he genuinely felt bad.

“Its..,” you paused and laughed. “I was going to say it’s okay, but its not. She didn’t die, so that’s great but... I didn’t know it was this bad with her.”

Fez dropped his hand and leaned against the counter behind him. “Why’d you come here, ma?”

You looked at him confused. “What are you talking about? Rue’s your friend, I thought you should know.”

“She is but... you ain’t come here to blame me?”

You were taken aback. “No, Fez. It’s not your fault. Rue made a choice. And if she didn’t get her drugs from you, it would be someone else.”

Fez was quiet as he took in what you said. You wanted to, no, needed him to understand this wasn’t his fault. 

“Listen to me Fezco. Rue’s got a lot of problems that she has to deal with. She was using drugs to cope with her grief. I know you wouldn’t want her to OD. I’d rather know she was going to you for her fix, than some random guy who didn’t give two shits about whether or not she lived or died. So I don’t want you putting any of this on yourself, okay?”

Fez gave a small nod to let you knew he understood. You don’t know if he actually believed what you said, but you were glad it was out there. 

Over the summer, you visited the store more frequently. You did see him outside the store once at a pool party. Of course you pointed out that you’d never seen him at a party before. Your crowd was a little different than the East Highland High School bunch. Fez played it off though, but you knew he was only there for you. 

An unexpected hangout occurred one evening when you stopped by the store on a cloudy day. The flow of customers was already crazy slow, then it started raining and store had been empty besides you, Fez, and Ash for the last hour.  

“Aye, bro, can we go home? I’m bored as shit,” Ash said coming from behind the refrigerators. 

Fez looked to you sitting on top of the freezer that held the popsicles and ice-cream before he spoke. “Uh, yeah. Go head and pack up.”

You hopped off your self designated spot in store. “Welp, I guess that’s my queue to head home.” 

“Nah,” Fez said and stopped you in your tracks. “You ain’t gotta go home.”

“But I gotta get outta here,” you interrupted giggling. 

“Nah, ma. I was finna say you could come to my place and hang... if you want.”

Your eyebrows shot up. Fez’s and your relationship mostly consisted of you just hanging out at his store while he worked. The two of you texted every now and then, but that was about it. 

“Oh... Uh, sure,” you managed to stammer out. Then you realized that didn’t sound very enthusiastic so you added, “Yeah, I’d love to come over.”

You followed Fez and Ashtray home in your car since you drove yourself to the store. You were anxious the whole way there and the rain definitely wasn’t helping. 

Fez’s place looked homey. The living room felt familiar; the couches reminding you of your grandma’s house. 

“You want anythin’ to drank,” Fez asked making his way to the kitchen.

“Uh, no, I’m good. Thanks though,” you replied slowly making your way to where he went. It was always awkward the first time you went over to a friend’s house. 

Fez reappeared from the kitchen with a beer in his hand. He eyed you for a second before speaking. “You want to watch a movie or somethin’?”

The rest of the evening was spent on Fez’s couch, watching old 90′s movies. Even Ashtray joined you for one. It was nice. It felt normal, not like you somehow became friends with you cousin’s drug dealer.

“Oh my God, Fezzy,” you shouted excitedly. “You won’t believe- Rue,” you paused when you saw your cousin coming from the back door that led to Ashtray. You glanced at Fez, then back to Rue. “What are you doing here?”

“Just popped in for a visit,” Rue answered. Her hands fidgeted in her pockets of her dad’s jacket. 

“Unhuh...,” you hummed knowing she didn’t just stop by to see the boys.

“What are you doing here,” Rue asked curious.

“I came by to see Fez,” you stated quickly. “You just got out of rehab, Rue.”

Rue rolled her eyes at you. “Yeah, and I had no plans on staying clean. I learned my lesson cuz. I know my limits now.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “You only know your limits cause you overdosed Rue! You almost died!”

“Key word being almost.”

“Oh my God,” you shook your head again turning away from the conversation. “I’ll talk to you later, Fez,” you said then turned to walk out of the store.

“Hey, Y/N,” Rue said and you stopped in your tracks. “You’re not gonna tell my mom are you?”

You huffed exhausted by your cousin. You telling her mom should be the least of her concerns. You still faced the door but turned your head to look at Rue. Your eyes glossed over with frustrated tears. “I wish you cared about yourself like the rest of us do.” 

Two weeks went by before you saw Fez again. The ginger was starting to think you blamed him for Rue’s relapse. Even though you had told him Rue made a choice to do drugs so it wasn’t his fault, your silence made him think you thought otherwise now. 

It was Sunday afternoon when Fez heard someone at his door. He looked through the peephole and saw you, then quickly opened the door.

“What’s up, ma?”

“Hey... I went by the store first but you weren’t there. I know I should have called or something, but I just wanted to see you.”

“Nah, you good. I’m just surprised is all.”

“Is this a bad time?”

“Nah, come in,” Fez said then stepped to the side to let you in. 

“Thanks,” you replied as you walked past him. You had only been in Fez’s place once, but it felt familiar. You just stood in the entry way while Fez closed the door. “Um, can we talk?”

“Yeah, come on,” Fez said nodding towards the living room. 

Fez took his usual place on the couch and you followed suit sitting beside him.

“I’m sorry about ghosting you these last two weeks,” you said, not being able to make eye contact with him. You felt guilty for ignoring him even though your issues were with Rue. Fez just sat there quiet. He wasn’t a man of many words, but you needed him to say something. “Not to sound cliché, but it was me not you.”

“It sure felt like it was because of me,” Fez said.

You turned on the couch to face him more. “It wasn’t, Fez. I promise. I’m mad at Rue, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

“Yeah, but she got her drugs from me and Ash. I could have told her no.”

“And then she would have thrown a fit and went somewhere else. Probably somewhere dangerous.” 

“Why you keep makin’ excuses for me? You shouldn’t be anywhere near me.”

“What,” you asked, your eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “Fez, no, I don’t want to be anywhere else but near you.” You spoke before you could realize what you were saying but it was true. Fez finally looked towards you and you averted his eyes. The silence was too loud. You were careful with your next words. “If I have to tell you every day, then I will,” you said slowly then looked back up at him. “Rue’s choice to do drugs, and keep doing them after her OD, is hers and hers alone. It’s not your fault.” 

Fez took in what you said and how it made him feel then began to shake his head. “Nah, y/n. You tryin’ to justify it still don’t make it right.”

“Fine,” you said exhausted, throwing your hands up in the air. “It’s not right! Rue coping with drugs. You selling her drugs. None of it is right, okay! But Rue is family and you’re my friend. So I’m not going anywhere,” you shouted then just fell back into the couch crossing your arms over your chest. 

Fez just watched you from his place on the couch. Anger and annoyance evident on your face. The situation sucked, but Fez didn’t want to lose you. He was worried if Rue overdosed again, not only would he lose a sister, but you would never forgive him. Regardless of how much you told him it wasn’t his fault she was on drugs, he was the supplier. But, if you wanted to keep being friends with him, who was he to tell you no. 

“Aight, ma,” Fez drawled out in his usual tone. 

“Aight what,” you asked for clarification. 

“You’re right... and stubborn,” Fez said, trying to stifle a laugh. 

You eyed him cautiously. “Elaborate.” 

Fez stayed sitting forward, but turned his head turned towards you and let it fall back on the couch. “Rue’s gonna find a way to do drugs whether or not I give them to her. She was on them before she met me.”

You uncrossed your arms resting them in your lap as you sighed feeling sorry about your cousin. You hated the mess she got in and wished for nothing more than her sobriety. While you were thinking about Rue, Fez’s hand grabbed your forearm then slid down to your hand, pulling it so it was on the empty cushion space between you two, so he could hold it.

“And you’re right about us being friends,” Fez continued. You bit your lip trying to stop your grin from getting too big, and Fez returned a small smile. 

After that day, you had seen less of Fez than you usually had in the summer. It was your senior year, so you were busy trying to keep your grades up while staying active in your clubs. You explained your schedule to Fez so he didn’t trip at the fact that he was seeing less of you. 

Things between you and Rue were strained. After you talked to Fez, you talked to your cousin and told her if she kept doing drugs you weren’t going to stick around and watch her kill herself. You were no longer holding any sympathy for what she was going through. Your Aunt Leslie and Gia managed to keep living without having their grief hold them back, why couldn’t Rue at least try? But Rue became spiteful, not caring that you were cutting yourself off from her. 

You missed how things were in the summer. No stress. Rue was in rehab so you knew she was safe. Spending afternoons at Fez’s store. Missing Fez was how you found yourself at an East Highland party. One of your friends brought it up and you were quick to agree to the outing. You knew he would be dealing at the party, and that was more than enough of a reason to go.

“Hey,” Rue said plopping down on the couch by Fez.

“What’s up, kid?”

“What’s going on with you and my cousin,” Rue asked, cutting straight to the chase. She was never one to beat around the bush.

“Whatchu mean,” Fez asked.

“Y/N doesn’t do parties. Especially not East Highland parties. And I know she’s not here for me.”

“Shit, she might be here for you,” Fez replied nonchalantly but he was hoping you were here for him. He missed seeing you on a regular basis. 

“Nah, she’s not even talking to me right now. Cut me off cause I won’t stop using. Trying to teach me a lesson or some shit,” Rue said while she rolled her eyes. “So much for family.”

“Don’t say that shit, Rue.” Fez was getting agitated, because he knew how much you cared for her. “That girl loves you. She just wants you to do better.”

“If she loved me, she wouldn’t leave,” Rue argued, her shoulders tensing up. 

“Nah, kid. That’s not how love works. She just doesn’t want to sit around and watch you kill yo’self.”

Rue sat there stunned, your words replaying in her head. “That’s exactly what Y/N told me... how much have you two been hanging out?”

Fez just shook his head as he took his blunt from behind his ear and lit it. “She misses you. Talk to her, Rue.”

You had been at the party for about an hour now. Attempting to play it cool as if Fez wasn’t the sole reason for you being there, you were trying to wait before you went and actually spoke to him. You noticed him a few minutes after you arrived. The two of you made eye contact and waved, but that was it.

Finally managing to leave your friends, you were making your way to Fezco when Rue stepped in front of you.

“Oh sor- hey Rue.”

“Hey, cuz,” Rue said. She looked... nervous. She was fidgeting with her jacket’s hood strings. Her eyes looking practically everywhere else but at you. “Um, can we talk for a sec?”

You looked past her to see Fez still sitting on the couch. Some guy coming up to him to make a deal. “Uh, yeah. Of course. Let’s step outside.”

Rue nodded, then you both made your way to the front door. There was too much going on in the backyard to have a private conversation there. You opened the door and let Rue step out into the cool night air first. 

You leaned against one of the front porch beams while Rue just stood there awkwardly and shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. 

The silence between you two was awkward which was a first. You tried to wait for Rue to speak, but she struggled to find the words.

“What’s up, Rue?”

“Umm, I just- I,” Rue stammered out while she fidgeted in her spot. “Shit, I’m sorry, Y/N. We’ve never not talked to each other like this and I hate it. I miss you.”

You sighed, sorrow filling your eyes. “I miss you, too, cousin.”

Rue’s eyes glossed over as she started to smile. “Uh, I haven’t been using as much anymore.”

You reached out and placed your hand on her wrist for a moment. “That’s great.”

Rue nodded, her eyes dogging around. “Yeah... I met someone.”

“Oh,” you replied, your eyebrows rising up in surprise. You were thrilled Rue was using less, but you knew if her sobriety was because of a person, it wouldn’t last long. “Do I know them?”

“No, she’s new. Her name is Jules.”

“Jules,” you repeated, making sure you pronounced it right.

Rue nodded, her smile growing bigger. “Yeah, she’s here tonight. Pretty blonde in the bright pink mini skirt.”

“You look happy.”

She ran her fingers through her curls, pushing her hair back. “I’m working on it.”

It was quiet for a moment as you looked down at your cousin. “Hey, Rue.”

“Yeah?”

“I know we haven’t been talking, but... you know I’m here if you need me.” You placed your hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

“I know,” Rue said nodding. Then you placed your other hand on her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug. Since you were on the step above her, you towered over her in the hug so you sat your chin on her head.

“Okay... you can let go now, Y/N,” Rue said after you were holding onto her a little too long.

“No, gotta make up for lost time,” you said, hugging her tighter.

“It wasn’t that much time.”

“It felt like forever,” you said dragging out the r then placing a bunch of kisses on Rue’s head.

“Ew, okay okay, I get it,” Rue said squirming in your arms. “Why don’t you go and kiss Fez?”

You stopped abruptly, pulling back slightly to look down at Rue. “Why would you say that? Did he... did he say something to you?”

Rue gently pushed herself out of your arms. “No, but it’s obvious something is happening between you two.”

“What,” you asked shaking your head, nervously running your hand over your hair. “Nothing’s happening. We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, friends who wanna fuck,” Rue replied. She was always the blunt one in the family. 

“Rue!”

“Am I wrong,” she asked, her eyes on you.

“Uhh-I mean...”

“Un huh. Just tell him how you feel,” Rue said as she started to make her way back into the party.

“You say that like it’s so easy.”

Rue turned around so she was walking backwards now. “It is when the other person likes you back.” Then she turned back around and you lost sight of her in the sea of people.

“But...,” you shouted then began to whisper since you no longer saw her, “how do you know he likes me?”

Now you were nervous. You weren’t really one to flirt, at least not on purpose anyway. It was one thing to act normal around Fez and pretend you didn’t have a huge crush on him, it was another for someone to tell you he liked you and pretend to be normal. What if Rue was wrong? What if whatever sign she was getting from Fezco, was just him being a good friend, and not him being interested in you?

You made your way back into the party, but completely passed by the living room and went straight for the bathroom. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a line so you went right in. You locked the door then went to the mirror to look at yourself. Everything was still in place. Your lipstick was perfect. Your hair styled the way you liked it. Now, if only you could get that look of fear off your face. 

“Breath, Y/N,” you said to yourself. You took a long exhale then inhaled. “Rue wouldn’t lie to you... well, maybe about drugs but not about this. And it’s Fez. Just put out some feelers to see where his head is at.” You nodded at yourself then turned the faucet on to splash a little water on yourself. Then your eyes grew wide as you thought, looking at yourself in the mirror again. “But what if he’s just being nice? IT’S FEZ! He’d never intentionally be mean to me. So how will I know if he’s only being polite and not actually flirting with me. Ughh!”

You dried your hand on a nearby towel then turned away from the mirror. You took some deep breaths to try and shake off the nervous feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. “Okay. It’s fine. You’re fine.” You thought about every time you hung out with Fez over the summer. Going to his house for the first time. Him giving you candy for free at the store. Him holding your hand on his couch. Fez was a good friend and you didn’t want to lose that, but you couldn’t keep holding your feelings for the ginger in. 

“Hey Y/N,” Fezco said once you stopped in front of him. A small smile growing on his lips. Somehow his eyes managed to shimmer in the crappy living room lighting. 

“Uh can you give me a ride home? I don’t feel so hot and I can’t find my friends.”

Technically it wasn’t a lie. You didn’t feel great. Your anxiety about asking Fez how he felt about you made you sick to your stomach.

“Sure thing, ma,” Fez replied, getting up from the couch without a second thought. Add that to the list of reasons you liked Fez. He would drop everything for you. The party wasn’t done so there was still money to be made, yet here he was, walking you out the party to his car.

The ride was quiet and awkward which was unusual. You only felt awkward around Fez when you had to bring up Rue’s drug addiction. Glancing over at Fez, he was oblivious to the worry that was going on in your head. His eyes focused on the dark road ahead as he nodded along to the music. The streetlights highlighting his freckles as you drove through the neighborhood. 

“Do you like me,” you asked, interrupting Fez.

Fez’s eyes left the road for a moment confused at your sudden change in the conversation. He readjusted himself in his spot before he spoke. “Yeah, course I like you. Wouldn’t be giving you a ride home if I didn’t.”

You shook your head annoyed. “No, Fez. I mean do you like like me? Like if we were in middle school and you found a note in your locker that said ‘do you like me? Yes or no.’ Which one would you circle?”

“Oh.”

Oh. OH! What did he mean by oh. Your brain was running a mile a minute now. Fez better say something else and quick. 

After what felt like forever, but was only about 5 seconds. “Yeah... thought it was obvious I was feelin’ you.” 

You let out a breathy laugh in disbelief. “Obvious?”

“Yeah, I mean I thought you was real cute that first day you came in the store grillin’ me about what I was sellin’ Rue.” Fez chuckled to himself remembering that day.

“You thought I was cute,” you asked baffled. This was all so confusing for you. 

Fez shook his head, eyes still focused on the road. “You gonna just keep repeating everything I’m sayin?”

“Uhh, yeah,” you replied, your eyes wide trying to prosses what he was saying to you. “It doesn’t make sense and you’re being so nonchalant about this.”

“How am I supposed to be?”

“I don’t know,” you answered, your hands flailing around. “Not like this! Just a minute ago I was freaking out wondering if I would ruin our friendship, or if there was even the slightest chance you liked me back... and you do. My brain can’t comprehend.” 

Fezco put his car in park and you realized you were in front of you house. “Well, comprehend, ma.”

You slouched back in your seat staring out at the road ahead of you taking it all in. Rue was right. “What do we do now?”

Fez reached over the center console and grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. “Well, we could start with a date?”

You turned at looked at Fez, biting your lip to stop your smile from getting too big. “I’d like that,” you said, nodding your head.

“Cool,” Fez said smiling. 

“Cool,” you repeated grinning right back. 

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, just staring at one another. 

“You know what. I’m feeling way better now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah... don’t think I’m quite ready to go inside yet.”

“You got something in mind?”

“Not really,” you said, pausing to think for a second. “Just not ready to leave you yet,” you replied, squeezing his hand a little while rubbing your thumb back and forth on the back of his hand.

Fezco’s checks got incredibly hotter as he looked away from you avoiding your eyes. He let go of your hand and put his car back in drive beginning to drive off then said, "I think I know a place."

#fezco x reader #fezco one shot #fez x reader #fez fanfic #fezco #euphoria fan fiction #euphoria one shot #euphoria

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

No Pain, No Gain | Part 3 |PersonalTrainer!Aemond x fem! reader

A/N: you guys are absolutely feral for this and I love it, thank you legitimately for all the love. Once again 😘 @ewanmitchellcrumbs ​, hope you luv uwu

Series Masterlist

warnings:  EVENTUAL SMUT, 18+, sexual tension, binge eating, mentions of breakup, cursing, dickhead Aemond, reader is horny af, English slang (soz), warnings will be added when needed

When Baela messaged you with this screenshot.

   You thought, hell fucking yes.

 What better way to take your mind off thinking about your personal trainer’s dick, undo about an hour’s worth of cardio and feel like shit afterwards?

 2 for 1 cocktails.

 Storm’s End was pretty popular so Baela, being the legend she is, booked for four of you to go. Baela, her twin, Rhaena, you and a mutual friend from university, Maris Baratheon. Her Uncle owned the pub/club so she used her connections to get a further 50% off on friends and family discounts.

 God it was going to be a long night.

 After getting ready in the living room, Rhaena absolutely hogging the Spotify playlist, all three of you buzzed on a glass of Prosecco hobble to Storm’s End.

 “Rhaena, take those stupid shoes off” you nudge her shoulder a bit, which takes her off balance. She’s wearing heels that are far too big and far too high for her. Tottling around like a newborn giraffe.

 She yelps a bit but glares at you, “At least I’m taller than you now, short-ass”

 Hand on heart, you feign offense, “Who put 50p in you?”

 Baela nudges you from your other shoulder, “Children, stop it”

 Maris pipes up from behind, playfully squeezing your butt, “Where did you get this from?”

 “Ow! Maris!”

 Rhaena laughs, “Our creepy cousin is giving her personal training”

 “Hey, you” Baela glares at her twin, “He’s not ‘creepy’, just misunderstood. And be nice, his dad just died!”

 “Oh yeah cos everyone loved Viserys” Rhaena mused.

 You give an awkward look to Maris as you enter Storm’s End, giving a name as they lead you to a booked table.

 “He didn’t seem that bothered about it” you shrug as you huff off your coat.

 Maris, sat next to you in the booth, hangs her jaw open, “Fuck you, look at these!” she says squeezing your biceps, “I’m jealous I don’t get to see you in the bikini”

 Rhaena snorts, “Maris, your bisexual is showing”

 “Sorry, sorry”

 You must admit that when you were getting ready to go out with the girls tonight, you’d made the effort. The black cocktail dress hanging in the back of your wardrobe, that probably hasn’t been touched since the graduation party a few years ago, looked tempting. So imagine your surprise to find that it still fit, snug in all the right places. It wasn’t quite warm enough to go out in just that, so you pulled a coat over it. Even here, in the darkened part of Storm’s End, a sort of anxiety prickled at you at how low cut it was. You were usually not so brave.

 It had been a while since Maris came to visit all of you, so the drinks came easily. And effectively being as cheap as water, it was easy to put all the cocktails away. One particular cocktail had you constantly sneezing from the ginger in it, but you were nicely drunk now, engaged in conversation.

 Maris was swooning over a girl she’d met on a night out.

 “You know when you see a woman and you’re just like ‘yes’ she is perfect” Maris swoons, slurring her words.

 Almost in unison you all say, “No”

 “Maris, we are hetero beyond hetero” you laugh, sipping the cocktail and leaning against Baela on your other side. She leans in as well, partially, if not more drunk than you right now.

 “Okay fine, I’m not having this conversation with you virgins”

 “Whoa whoa whoa! Who said virgin?” Rhaena furrows her brows, angry and you genuinely have to hold back a laugh with how loud she’s being as several people turn around, hearing what she’s said.

 “Rhaena, I am willing to bet yours has grown back it’s been so long”

 “Nuh-uh” you point to yourself, head wavy from all the drinks, “that’s me~”

 Maris orders more, “Didn’t you and what’s-his-face break up like two months ago?”

 “Yesss, but we didn’t have sex for ages before that. So if anything it’s me who’s the sad little virgin of the group” you say, polishing off your cocktail to go in for another.

 Baela snorts, “At least until she gets a mouthful of Aemond”

 You almost spit out your drink, glaring at Baela. The alcohol has made you more…morally loose, yes. But you didn’t expect Baela to say that.

 “What the fuck Baela!”

 “Oh come on, she’s been cracking out the vibrator everytime I even say his name”

 Maris sees your bright red face, “Don’t” you warn.

 “Oh my god, as if you have a thing for creepy Aemond?!”

 You raise your eyebrows, “Okay, describe him”

 “Tall, lanky, skinny…I guess?”

 Stalking time.

 You raise a finger, putting your cocktail down to get your phone. You quickly bring up his instagram and show her the one photo where his whole body is in shot.

 Pretty much as soon as the screen lights her face, her jaw drops.

 “Oh my god”

 “Can you two please stop thirsting over our cousin, please” Rhaena rolls her eyes,

 Maris zooms in, “Hold on, I want to see what all the fuss is about”

 She zooms in, really taking him in and the both of you fawn over the photo for a bit too long. Describing everything. His legs, arms that poke out of the shirt he’s wearing with veins. Ugh. His neck, his chest, his shoulders. How tall and broad he is. Just everything.

 “Would you not let that man destroy you?” you ask Maris, snatching your phone out her hand,

In your drunken haze, you freeze as your finger slips and double-taps the screen, liking the photo.

 “Oh shit”

 Rhaena raises her eyebrows, “what”

 “I just fucking liked the photo” you drop the phone and put your head in your hands, vision spinning from the alcohol as well as the embarrassment.

 The girls erupt in laughter, which isn’t helping.

 You find the courage to look and see that the photo is a good ten or so months old. And the little dot next to his profile shows he’s suddenly active. He’s definitely noticed.

 Fuckfuckfuck.

 “Hey, you never know, it might be a good ‘in’ to get him to bang you”  Maris chimes.

 You’ve never felt more embarrassed in your life. And yet, you can’t help your mind wander at the possibility of it.

 Would he?

 He was pretty handsy last time.

 But he’s a personal trainer, surely it’s wrong for you to pay him and bang him when he’s on the job.

 No you can’t.

 You can’t imagine…him bare chested pressed against you, hot, sticky and sweaty from the efforts, broad shoulders closing you into the mattress, large hands splayed across your waist, teeth biting at your neck, prying your thighs apart, rutting into yo-

 “Hello! Earth to y/n!”

 Fuck, you’ve got to stop doing this.

 “Do us all a favour and fuck him” Maris muses, “You’re like in heat or something”

 Despite the embarrassment of it all, the night continues on and Baela is far too drunk to carry on. So being the good friend you were and mother of the group, you pull her hand around your shoulder and escort her home. She’s wobbly at best and seems to laugh at the smallest thing, and even though you’re drunk as well, the situation earlier sobered you up considerably.

 “I have a headahceee….” Baela moans.

 “I heard you the first three times you said it”

 “Can we get some painkillers, we don’t have any hic back at the flat..”

 With an annoyed groan you drag her into the nearest corner shop, it’s close-ish to home, so hopefully she swallows the painkillers, shuts the fuck up and you can tuck her in on the sofa.

 She waits at the entrance while you pay, talking absent-mindedly to a stranger.

 “Baela, don’t talk to strangers please” you say as you shove the box of painkillers in her hand. The man she’s talking to smirks amused at the situation.

 “This isn’t a stranger, it’s my other cousin!” she says, her drunkenness making her far too loud.

 “Oh yeah?” you crack open the bottle of water you bought, taking a swig before passing to Baela, “Is that true?” you ask the other man.

 It could be true. He’s got platinum hair, a smile that spells trouble and that weird cockiness all Targaryen men seem to have. He gives you a bit of a wink, shoving his hands into his pockets.

 “Unfortunately, yes. Aegon” he extends his hand and you tentatively shake it, still a bit weary. He looks at you like he already knows you, it’s very weird.

 “Yeah that sound like a Targaryen name”

 “He’s Aemond’s older brother” Baela says while taking a sip of water, accidentally letting it fall over her face and down her neck,

 “Unfortunately, also yes” Aegon smirks, “She looks a bit worse for wear”

 “We can thank Storm’s End 2 for 1 cocktails for that, can’t we Bae?” you smile, hooking an arm around her waist to steady her, she just grunts in response, “what are you doing here anyway?” you ask Aegon as he’s now found some interest in walking alongside you both.

 He shrugs, “Just came out to get a few bits, do you guys want a lift home? Aemond’s parked around the corner”

 “Yeah actu-” your mind works before your mouth does and your face pales a bit, embarrassment working its way into your belly.

 Baela has that stupid fucking smirk on her face again, wide and giddy like a child, “Yes please! Y/n, this is your chance to get Aemond to ram-”

 “Enough of that” you warn sternly, slapping a hand over mouth, but Aegon gives an amused grin, seemingly catching onto the subject of the conversation, “We’re fine getting home thanks”

 “Don’t be stubborn, come on” Aegon says, helping Baela down the road.

 A gnawing embarrassment curls in your gut. The last thing you want is to see him. And this is reinforced when you round the corner and Aemond is in the driver’s seat, looking up when he sees three figures. His eyes dart between Aegon and Baela for a moment before landing firmly on you, shamelessly looking down and then back up again.

 You take a deep breath. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him.

 Try as you might, you make for the back seat, but with a shit-eating grin, Aegon makes it there first, under the guise of helping Baela in the backseat and making sure she’s okay. And you want lightning to strike him down right now with how fucking smug he looks.

 A family trait, you see.

 With an annoyed huff and without looking at the smug blonde in the driver’s seat, you get in the passenger seat, quickly pulling the seatbelt around you. Aemond doesn’t say anything either, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his thigh.

 Oh God, his thighs.

 Stopstopstop.

 You can almost see in your peripheral the way he’s smirking to himself, thinking it’s all very amusing.

 “Aem!” Baela shrieks drunkenly from the backseat, luckily cutting the already existing tension, “Where did you come from?”

 Aem chuckles lowly and it might be the first proper time you’ve heard him laugh, he turns to his cousin in the back seat, “I could ask you the same thing”

 “I found them in the shop, what was it, Storm’s End 2 for 1 cocktails?” Aegon laughs.

 Aemond huffs a laugh in response, raising an eyebrow in your direction, “Training going well then?”

 You only have to turn your head a little to face him and when you do, you regret it immediately. In the proximity of the car, with you in the front seat, it’s achingly close. You try to muster up an indifferent look.

 “Don’t live in the gym like you do”

 He smirks, poking his cheek with his tongue, and turns back to the road, putting the car in gear to drive off. And now his gaze is averted, you briefly let your eyes go over him. It was only fair, he did the same to you. And you turn away quickly with a sigh when you see he’s wearing fucking dark grey sweatpants. All those thoughts return at breakneck speed, the sinful, lustful ones you only think of when you’re alone with your vibrator and it makes you squeeze your thighs together harshly, and you swear you see a flicker of Aemond’s head move in your direction when you do it. Not that he shows it on his face.

 Aegon’s playlist is in full swing and it’s not a long car journey, but it certainly fucking feels like it.

 You’re just thankful that Baela is quietly drunk in the backseat, half asleep, so she can’t say anything incriminating about the desires you’d divulged in female confidence.

 “Stop the car” Baela says hurriedly, undoing her seatbelt.

 Aemond brakes, looking back at her in the rearview mirror.

 “Oh shit” Aegon curses as Baela gets out the car like a bat out of hell to run behind the closest tree, halfway across the park. Aegon follows with the bottle of water you’d bought her.

 In any other situation, you’d be glad to have a borderline sick and vomiting Baela out of the car. But right now, left alone with Aemond after the sheer stupidity of the night so far, you want her to come back as soon as possible.

 Aemond sighs, at least glad Baela had the decency to get out of the car before being sick. He reaches for the gearstick to move the car out of the way of the middle of the road. And the smug bastard completely misses and his large hand makes contact with your knee instead. You can do nothing but gasp when he does it.

 “Sorry” he murmurs without moving his hand.

 When you look at him, he stays eerily still, his eyes flitting across your face to take in the dazed, stunned and impassioned look on your face. Your mouth seems to go dry, brain made of cotton, desperately trying to come up with something to say, but failing.

 Aemond withdraws his hand back to the gearstick, but not before giving the flesh above your knee a firm squeeze, burning his touch into them, leaving behind prickling heat on your skin. Seeing that you’ve been caught staring at him for too long, you flick back, pushing your legs together impossibly tighter.

 He seems to delight in the reaction.

 “Have fun on instagram earlier?”

 Oh fuck my life.

 You turn to him, embarrassed, but his eyes are on the road just as Aegon and Baela get back in the car with a few rough and tumbles. You hate how easy it is for him to get a rise out of you like this, so you turn away and just watch the night life go by as Aemond drives the 5 minute route back to your flat.

 Almost as soon as he pulls up, Aegon’s helping Baela out and you follow, just about to shut the passenger side door when-

 “See you at our session tomorrow” Aemond muses smugly. His eyes glimmering with mischief.

 Not knowing what to say and far too horny to even form a thought, you take Baela back into your arms and make for the flat, but not before looking over your shoulder to see Aemond’s dark gaze over the steering wheel.

 Once in the flat, Baela collapses on the sofa, murmuring incoherently. Like a good mother, you put a glass of water and painkillers on the side table, pulling the blanket over her.

“Did you get railed?...” Baela groans, to which you bite your lip.

“No Baela”

 With a disappointed groan, she turns and almost instantly falls asleep, aided by the dizzying effect of the alcohol creeping in. You smile at her, she’s always been like this when she’s drunk. Always the wingman. Or wingwoman, you supposed.

 Halfway through taking off your makeup, your phone pings with a notification.

Absolute.

Bastard.

You wake up the next day shockingly kind of okay. Baela on the other hand is milking this for all it’s worth. Being a Saturday, you supposed she’s allowed some time to recover.

 But when you use the blender to make a smoothie, she groans, “Are you doing this on purpose...” she groans, with a wet cloth on her forehead.

 Forcing the urge to laugh at her away, “Sorry hun”

 She lifts the cloth to glare at you, “Why are you in gym gear, it’s Saturday”

 Your mind races a bit, a blush making its way up your neck and a familiar heat pooling in your stomach.

 “Last session today before the holiday” you say, leaning against the counter to sip the smoothie, “only day free was Saturday”

 Baela pulls a face, as if amused.

 “What”

“Nothing”

 You scoff, “Fuck you, I told you all that under the influence, it doesn’t count”

 “Oh yes it does~”

 She goes on and on and on it feels like, about how badly you said you wanted Aemond to destroy you last night. She seemingly doesn’t remember the finer details about how you got home. You wished you could forget. You can still feel the way his hand gripped your leg so tightly, the bare skin prickling up.

 Ping.

The dreaded ring of a notification. And it’s like he can fucking sense when people are talking about him.

   Dramatically, you flop on the sofa, showing Baela the text.

 “I don’t know how many more signs you need” she reaches for her go to hangover cure, the biggest bar of chocolate you’ve ever seen and a diet pepsi, “I don’t want to hear anything about it, if you do though because that’s gross. Tell Maris or something”

 “Nothing is going to happen”

 “Uh huh, whatever you say hoe”

 With even Baela’s belief in you dwindling by the second, with a heaving sigh you manage to plop into your car, prop your phone on the mount for directions to the address Aemond sent you and drive. Something curls in your gut all the way there. Nerves? Excitement? Nausea? Was it the Indian food…

 You know the answer already but it doesn’t make it any better.

 The car that picked you up with Baela the previous day is parked on a driveway, a black Mercedes.

 Twat.

 With a breath to stable yourself, you trudge with your gym bag to the front door. The front garden is curiously and meticulously tidy, grass mowed and in general looked beautiful. A stark contrast, you think, to the guy inside. For a moment, you honestly think why the hell you’re here. Or maybe it’s just scary how easy it was for you to just…go with it and come to his house.

 He appears in the doorway mere seconds after you press the doorbell, making you think he had seen your car pull up, but this notion is quickly dashed when you see him. He leans against the doorframe on his forearm, having to look down at you with a bottle of something in one hand.

 “Didn’t get lost then” he says with a smug smile. The embarrassment and those thoughts that were loud the night before come back at breakneck speed, making the heat flood your cheeks uncontrollably. You just hope that he doesn’t see it, but by the amused look on his face, he totally does.

 You roll your eyes a bit and his smile seems to drop for a second. He removes his arm from the doorframe, your eyes drag over what he’s wearing briefly. It’s not the black shirt he usually has on, but a grey one with patches of dark  at the neckline and middle, you surmise he’s probably already been working out before you got here. The image of his taut stomach sticking to his grey shirt will forever be seared into your memory.

 Walking through his home is like walking through a show-home, as in, it doesn’t look like it’s been lived in. It’s weirdly pristine, smells like air freshener and detergent. And as you follow him to the back of the house, where you assume the home gym is, you can’t help but stare at the dark grey patch in the middle of his back and the way his shoulders move when he takes a drink.

 There’s some stairs that lead down and you quirk a brow, “a basement gym?”

 He stops at the stairs, looking up, his eyes somewhere else before he meets yours. His hair is up in a bun again, like the first time, with stray pieces falling out, “Yes?”

 “How very serial killer of you” you muse, following him down the stairs, “Should I share my location with someone”

 He huffs a laugh, opening the door and leading you inside with the smallest of touches to the small of your back, “Unless you want to”

 Even the borderline ghostly touch against the small of your back through your coat is enough to make your brain feel like it’s mush.

 What if he’d ventured down, using his large hand to squeeze your flesh between his fingers? Moulding the skin to shape of his palms?

 “Drink?” he asks, strangely more chirpy.

 Pulling off your coat you reply, “No, got my water, thanks”, you try and make your voice as stable as possible.

 His home gym is actually quite big, lit by several spotlights since there’s no natural light. It hasn’t got any machines, but several weights and sit up benches, perhaps he brings some clients here sometimes? Your body shudders inconsolably at the thought of being laid on the sit up benches, flat with him looming over.

 He’s filling up his own water bottle from the cooler in the corner, back to you, “So what were you doing on instagram?” he asks, and you think you can hear the smile on his face.

 Taking advantage of him not looking your way, you adjust your sports bra. It’s a different set this time, since the other is in the wash, a dark rusty orange two-piece. He turns just as you’re pulling your hair up into a bun, eyes hooded and trained on you before briefly flitting across the new outfit.

 “Stalking your creepy profile” you answer, disinterested.

 He raises an eyebrow, “Creepy?”

 “That’s what Rhaena said”

 “Ah” he responds, “she would”

 “Why’s that?”

 He motions loosely to his eye that you supposed he was blind in, “Freaks people out”

 You furrow your brows, “Why would it freak people out?”. You ask it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s quiet for a moment, tapping his fingers against his water bottle in thought.

 “Does it not freak you out?”

 You shake your head softly, “No”

 He doesn’t take his eyes off you when he takes a sip of water and it makes your thighs feel somewhat like jelly.

 “Right, stretches”

 Oh boy.

 It’s almost as bad as the first time you’ve done them together, except he’s extra handsy, smirking with the knowledge that you were talking about him in your spare time. This time, when you’re doing the 60 second planks on the mat, his hand stays there on your back, moving every now and then slowly between your shoulders, to the nape of your neck. And there’s no mirror in his home gym, so you’re only hoping and praying that he’s not taking this opportunity to look at you in the skin tight leggings too closely.

 Although secretly, you kind of hope he is.

 “That’s it...” he praises lowly, and it takes you so off guard that you think you might just crack. But you resort to just biting your lip, trapping the skin between your teeth painfully.

 Squats are genuinely no better. He stays behind you the entire time, achingly close with his hands on his hips and everytime you go down to do one, you can’t help the desperate thrum of anticipation in your belly as you make contact only very slightly with his leg.

 Once you’re done with stretching and core, with the lack of windows in the room you’re in, it’s very hot and you wipe your forehead a little, slightly out of breath as you take a sip of water. Feeling as if you are being watched you turn your head slightly and see him sat on the sit-up bench watching you intensely.

 “Shit” you curse as some water leaks out of the bottle onto your chest and right down your sports bra. You try and wipe it away quickly, your chest already glistening with sweat. But when you look up, you see his eyes quickly flit from there to your eyes, darkened. One of his thighs jitters as he bounces his leg, as if aggravated.

 “Sorry” you breathe, grounding yourself, “what next” you ask, desperately trying to lighten the tension.

 “Bench press” he responds, and there’s that same tone he used last time. The tone that he used after literally scaring your ex away. But you swallow thickly and nod and sit where he once was.

 He explains how to do it and you take it all in a bit until you realise he’s going to be standing right behind you and your cheeks flood with heat again, tingling down the back of your neck. He just stands there as he usually does, but from this angle (and it’s very difficult to not look at this point) your head is right at his waistline and had there not been 30kg combined in your arms right now, you probably would have given more of a reaction to it.

 But you do your reps, with him watching in silence, seeing you break a sweat. As far as you are aware, his eyes forever on your form, but really it’s zoned in on that shadow that disappears down your sports bra and at the exposed bit of midriff beneath that to your leggings.

 As you’re doing the last few, he rounds the side and places his hand flat on your ribs, right under your sports bra’s hem and you freeze, an involuntary gasp escapes.

 When you meet eyes, he’s already regarding you.

 “Relax”

 Licking your lips nervously, you nod and breathe in and out deeply. But he never takes his hand off you, almost making sure you’re doing what he says.

 The next few reps are probably the most difficult. Never being able to stop thinking about his fingers on your bare skin, his thumbs drawing very very small circles on the hot flesh there. The air feels charged, as if one wrong move could ignite something, like striking a flame near gas.

 He moves his hand lower to your abdomen, making you freeze and look at him again. There’s no smug smile on his face, just a hooded, promiscuous expression, one that makes a deep, blurry thrum right where his hand is.

 “Push here”

 You try and do as he says for the last few, but it’s hard with the way he’s staring at you. And when you let out a huff and put the weights back where they belong on the rack, he nods slightly.

 “Good girl”

 He sees the way your face flushes this time, but makes no comment on it. Instead he rights himself to stand, extending his toned arm to you to help you up, not breaking the intensity of his look.

 It really does happen too quickly to know who did it. All you remember is taking his hand to pull yourself up. The next. Both his hands are around your waist, nearly encompassing them with how big they are, and the way they slide against your glistening skin rouses you in places you didn’t even know existed.

 There’s not even time to say anything when he locks his lips with yours, pushing you harshly against the wall with a thud that makes you gasp into his hot mouth. It’s messy, chaotic, a clashing of desperate lips and when he brushes your lower lip with his tongue it’s embarrassing how good it feels. He pushes you against the wall so harshly by your waist that you think he’s trying to embed you into it, hands clasped tightly around you in frustration, his fingertips creating marks where they are fixed.

 Amongst all this, he presses his firm, lithe body against yours and you let out the quietest of moans with the realisation that he is desperately hard beneath the sweatpants he’s wearing, pressing it into your thigh.

 “Fuck…” he breathes as his hand snakes up your front to take hold of your jaw, kissing with such need that it almost feels like too much.

 All this time your hands have had no idea what to do, but one slides to the nape of his neck, gripping harshly and completely destroying the style his hair had been in. The other runs over the slick skin of his forearm, tracing the veins there, and how they seem to thrum with every beat of his heart, faster with the desire that courses through them.

 “Fucking perfect…”

 Words fail you at this point, his fingers digging into the sides of your face make you realise he’s keeping you right where he wants you, attacking your mouth with his in a way that’s not really happened to you before. And that little breathy moan escapes once again when his teeth nip at your lip as he pulls away, immediately dipping to your neck to kiss and suck the delicate skin there, his hips pushing against yours with hunger.

 You wonder what his hands would feel like wrapped around your neck, squeezing gently, or maybe not so gently. If his hands would just go that bit lower…if your hands just dipped beneath the hem of his shirt…down the sweatpants…

 Buzz buzz.

 Snapped out of this hot, heavy trance, Aemond steps back a little and you duck underneath his arm, not daring to look back at him at the fear you might stay and fuck up this entirely professional relationship. You desperately look at your phone, a missed call from Baela.

 But that’s all the excuse you need, you hurriedly pack up your stuff, “S-sorry…I..” you start but with no vocabulary to actually finish. Your core is still spurring with delight with what you’ve just done, taking all the power from your brain.

 Looking back briefly, he looks a bit dishevelled but still ridiculously too good, flushed in the face and his chest gently heaving, and with that ghost of a smile on his face. Not smug this time, to your delight.

 “Um, sorry I have to go…thanks, Aemond” you excuse promptly. Even the very swift walk back to the car is a blur. It’s only when you’re in the driver’s seat, intensely gripping the steering wheel that it all slots into place.

 Your fingers go to your lips and all the places his hands had touched you. They’re on fire. Begging for more. And you feel your breath in your lungs stutter at the memory of it. Aemond stands at his window, watching with acute amusement that you’re still sat there, absolutely dumbstruck by what’s happened.

 Baela pings you in the wake of her missed call.

taglist (sorry if I missed anyone, I’m crap, bold means I couldn’t tag)

@mrsgrwy​ @lovelykhaleesiii​@urmomsgirlfriend1@iiamthehybrid​ @namelesslosers​  @chainsawsangel​ @warmfieldofgrass​ @mynameisbaby9​ @afro-hispwriter​ @tempo-rary-fix​ @toodlesxcuddles @definitelynotsatans​ @svtansdaddyx​ @tssf-imagines​ @darkenchantress​ @vrtualfairy​ @fan-goddess​ @skikikikiikhhjuuh​ @helaenaluvr​ @sarahkimtae​ @blackxisxmyxcolour​ @castellomargot​ @girlwith-thepearlearring​ @julczimozart​ @amazingdisneyfansblog​ @slutforaemond@thedamewithabook@Iiamthehybrid@sahvlren@Whoknows333@cosmoeticss​

#aemond smut #aemond fanfic #aemomd fanfiction #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #aemomd x you #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond stannies #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #personaltrainer!aemond #no pain no gain #aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond fandom #aemond x you #aemond x reader #modern!aemond targaryen x reader #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aemond #modern!aemond smut #modern aemond

[mypimpademia]

I love to see black lady fan fics but they never have hair like mine can I ask you to write the main 4 and how they would react to a girl with locs

— Locs

Bakugo x Fem! Black! Reader, Izuku x Black! Fem! Reader, Todoroki x Black! Fem! Reader, Shinsou x Black! Fem! Reader

TW: Swearing

— BAKUGO

⇶ Locs are hands down Katsukis favorite.

⇶ He loves how they look amazing all the time even without styling them

⇶ So when you walk into class on the first day with a fresh retwist, you catch his eye

⇶ He acts disinterested, per usual, but you can feel him staring at you as you introduce yourself to your other classmates

⇶ If you go up to him and say something, he’ll mug you and then ignore you completely

⇶ Izuku pulls you away from him and tells you that the blonde is rough around the edges, but he didn’t cuss you out or yell so that’s a good sign for you

⇶ Later that day, you get paired with him for an assignment

⇶ He hardly speaks to you, and when he does his answers are short

⇶ It’s irking your soul, honestly. The only thing that’s keeping you from asking him what his problem is is remembering what Izuku said about him

⇶ You think he’s just being an asshole, but you’re really trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. And as long as he doesn’t start anything with you like Izuku told you about, you’ll be chill

⇶ It doesn’t even dawn on you that you’re making him insanely nervous

⇶ It’s such an unfamiliar feeling to Katsuki, hence his strange behavior

⇶ He doesn’t care about the length of your hair, it could be above your shoulders or down to your ass and he’ll still think you look incredible

⇶ Will he tell you that? No. Let’s be serious.

⇶ He’s cool with whatever your natural hair color is, but dyed locs do something to him

⇶ Katsuki loves skunk stripes and peekaboos in any color, and fully dyed hair is a close second

⇶ Don’t even get him started on if you have it dyed orange, ginger, or blonde.

⇶ For styles, anything half up and half down is 🔛🔝

⇶ And if your locs are long, he likes to see you switch it up by making them into a bob

⇶ Katsuki will warm up to you eventually, once he gets over how nervous you make him first

— IZUKU

⇶ Anything with natural hair makes him melt, so to say he loves your locs would be an understatement

⇶ One of the first things he does, after introducing himself, is tell you that he likes you hair

⇶ Can’t stop staring at your locs while he talks to you, they’re just so pretty on you

⇶ Anytime you come into class with a different style or a retwist, he makes a point to compliment you

⇶ If you ever ask Izuku to pick a style for you to try, he’ll be more than happy to do so

⇶ You’ll scroll through Pinterest together until you find one you both like

⇶ Shit, he’ll make an entire board just for loc inspo and share it with you

⇶ Loves any style with a ponytail/pigtails, or in a bun

⇶ Thinks curly/wavy locs are the cutest thing ever

⇶ Adores locs with beads and charms on them, they’re so pretty to him and you’ll almost see stars in his eyes if you put any on yours

⇶ Doesn’t care about length much, but he does really like shorter locs (shoulder length and shorter) because they show how much you can do with locs regardless of how long they are

⇶ For dyed locs, he likes really bold and bright colors. Doesn’t care about if it’s a skunk stripe, peekaboo, fully dyed, just the ends, etc

⇶ Pink, purple, and of course, green are his favorites

⇶ If you let him try to retwist your locs, it won’t go terribly, but you most definitely will not ask him to do it again😭

⇶ Even though he can’t retwist to save his life, he’s great at styling so if you’re ever struggling he’ll enthusiastically help you

⇶ Truthfully, Izuku might enjoy your locs more than you

— TODOROKI

⇶ Sho thinks locs are sooo pretty

⇶ He won’t say anything to you, but you’ll catch him taking glances and immediately looking away when you meet eyes

⇶ Has a very awkward smile on his face when he does so, and it’s honestly the cutest thing ever

⇶ When you go over and say hi, he’s a bit shocked but quietly says hi

⇶ Shoto is naturally quiet, and you got that off rip, but he’s very obviously nervous the entire time you talk to him

⇶ Shoto is very blunt, so when you ask him what’s wrong he just tells you he thinks your hair is pretty

⇶ Doesn’t care about length at all, but for styling he likes when you just let them be, and any ponytail style

⇶ For dyed locs, he likes darker colors

⇶ If you have a split dye, he’ll think it’s cute that you and him are matching

⇶ Locs with charms, specially crystal charms, are heavenly to him. He thinks you look like an angel with an assortment of crystals dangling from your locs

⇶ If you ask him to do your hair, he’ll be fine as long as you give him guidance

⇶ Lovesss to play with your locs if you’ll let him

⇶ Always keeps a hair tie on his wrist for you in case you need one to pull them back, as well as clips

⇶ Just thinks you’re so pretty with your locs, he could look at them for hours

— SHINSOU

⇶ Natural hair lover to his core but locs will always take the cake

⇶ Hitoshi doesn’t even say hi when he first sees you, he tells you he likes your hair

⇶ It catches you off guard, but he likes watching you sputter out a thank you

⇶ Admires your locs pretty much everytime he’s talking to you, and even when he’s not

⇶ Doesn’t look away if you catch him, just gives you a smug grin

⇶ Even though he usually keeps his hair up how it always is, he Carrie’s hair ties and pins just in case he needs to put it back. He’ll let you borrow some if you ask

⇶ He likes any length, but sways towards shorter locs more

⇶ Hitoshi lovess barrels and twists, and believes that you can never go wrong with a good pineapple

⇶ For dyed locs, he’s likes peekaboos, skunk stripes, and scattered dyed ones in any color

⇶ If you have all of your hair dyed, Hitoshi likes vibrant colors, pink, blue, and purple being his favorites

⇶ Likes touching them, if you’ll let him

⇶ They’re hardly ever prolonged touches, most of the time he’ll tangle his fingers in your locs when coming up behind you to get your attention

⇶ But if your locs are long, he’ll play with them while talking to you or sitting behind you

⇶ Twists them, braids them, curls them around his fingers, etc

⇶ Hitoshi is actually good at doing hair, so if you ever get tired of styling it on your own or retwisting, you can count on him to get you right

⇶ He might scare you a little by watching a tutorial on YouTube or TikTok first, but surprises you by doing a nice job with little to no guidance from you

⇶ Hitoshi is a loc enthusiast through and through

—

Taglist: @megurulvr @miirene @planetlunaa @pnkweb @szaplsdropthealbum @dreampurpledreams @goldenglow149 @gender-queery @roaringlion @chocolateochaco @tatiquichi

Send in a ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.

—

Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs are appreciated!

#mha #bnha #mha hcs #bnha hcs #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #bakugo x reader #izuku x reader #todoroki x reader #shinsou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #mha bakugo #mha izuku #mha todoroki #mha shinso #katsuki bakugo #shoto todoroki #izuku midoriya #hitoshi shinsou #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha x black reader #bnha x black!reader #bakugo x black reader #izuku x black!reader #todoroki x black!reader #shinso x black reader

[f1-giuki]

ello lovie! here with a prompt suggestion for you!! you tagged your post with ‘lestappen prompt’ so my i request Them 🫶🏻 my song vibes are either bellissimissima by alfa or welcome to st tropez by dj anthoine. two very different vibes, so you choose which you prefer!!! 🩷

HI SWEET DARLING ANGEL<3<3<3<3<3<3<3 i loved the alfa song, so i went for it!!!! I did some lestappen fluff!! It's a bit longer than previous drabbles, but I was very inspired!!!! Hope you like it💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

bellissimissima - prompt post

-

Max likes Padel. Scratch that, he should rephrase it. Max “likes” Padel. Fuck, no, not even this works… Max likes Padel only because Charles plays with him. That's the truth. Sue him, he likes to see Charles smile in those little Puma shorts of his, is this a crime? Max is sure many people, including the entire Italian population, would agree with him.

He hates the bloody sport, if he has to be really honest, with those ugly courts with walls, the small rackets, the balls, which to him are just a stupid more expensive copy of a tennis ball. Max likes tennis, and Jannik Sinner lives in his building, the floor right below him, so he happily listens to the Italian Sinsplaying (?) matches and shots, so it feels familiar. Max feels like he has to protect his ginger neighbour from Padel players.

But let's be clear, Max likes to watch tennis, there's no way in hell he'd embarrass himself on a clay court for the whole world to know. He already has the padel courts for world-class embarrassment.

Unfortunately, Max also likes Charles, even if he keeps denying it and avoiding Checo's death stares after too many third-wheeling sessions, so once a month, when they're back in Monaco, he has to succumb to his heart's desires.

That's why he's currently in a town the size of a post stamp, with a stupid padel bag on his shoulders, listening to Charles charm his way into getting a padel court for the day without a reservation or giving any names. Max would like to know what the Monegasque is doing, but he has a better time staring at Charles' ass in his tie-dyed heart jeans. And he doesn't know French.

Charles also drove them there in his Alfa Romeo Stelvio. Max feels really useless.

“He said we can have the court, nobody plays padel here, the last couple of players apparently died!” Charles says, nonchalantly, leading Max to the locker rooms.

“They what?” Max asks, pushing the door open and raising a brow.

“Oh, shit, not like that! They were two old men! Anyway, nobody has come here since then, so we can have the court for ourselves!” Charles says again, taking off his t-shirt and standing in the room half-naked. Max wants to die.

“Ahah, fun,” Max shrieks, making Charles laugh. He's so fucked.

Max changes in a nanosecond, praying God Charles hasn't seen him trip on his feet and nearly fall down as he pulls his shorts up.

“Ready?” Charles asks with a soft smile after Max ties his shoelaces. He nods and they walk out to the court. 

The facility is empty. Ghostly so. Max can fill it with his embarrassment and his humongous crush, there could be enough space for those two.

They get inside the court and Charles drops his bags down, taking his racket, and six balls, and putting them on the ground. He looks at Max and grins as he starts running around the court, to warm up. Max sits down and pretends to do his usual stretching session. That's obviously an excuse to stare at Charles. 

That motherfucker is so pretty. Extremely pretty. Illegally pretty. He's so soft and kind, with fluffy hair, Dorito-shaped. Charles smiles at him every time he passes by and Max blushes, as Charles giggles.

After another lap Charles stops and stands in front of him, hands on his waist. His eyes are right at crotch level. Max wants to die. Charles' shorts are really short today.

“Wanna play padel or you're going to stare at my pretty face all afternoon, uh?” Charles jokes.

Max chokes on his spit and starts coughing, making Charles laugh. “Ah, fun, yeah, coming! Let me grab my racket!” Max shrieks, voice breaking in the middle of the sentence, and does his little walk of shame to his bag.

He takes out his racket and as he turns around Charles is standing right behind his back. Too fucking close for Max's liking, he can see all the moles on his face, he could do something stupid, like kissing each one of them.

“If you win today, you can take me out to dinner,” Charles says with a teasing grin.

Max likes this, even if he's blushing like a maniac and his ears are ringing loudly.

“A or V, Leclerc? I'm going to destroy you!” He mumbles, feeling as competitive as if he was on a race track.

“V, Verstappen,” Charles giggles, winking with both eyes at Max, who rolls his eyes.

“Game on, baby!”

#lestappen #lestappen wip #lestappen fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #ao3 #f1 rpf #f1 prompts #lestappen fluff #lovely cha

[ashleyh713fanfics]

Dazai X Odasaku!Sister CH13

Chapter 13: "Celebrating Life Is Stupid”

Summary: After reuniting and growing closer, Dazai and Oda’s sister truly realize the value of each other and the sad bandaged boy falls deeper into the dangerous fascination and infatuation that is Odasaku’s little sister.

Warnings: pm!sixteen year old Dazai, pm! sixteen year old chuuya, ginger is very angry, Suicide mentions, guns, manipulation on both sides, Odasaku death mentions, Dazai being a Simp, Dazai being the demon prodigy but also baby at the same time.

(This is chapter thirteen of my fanfic "Timeless" which is now on A03. It carries on from the three part intro I posted a couple days ago. I'll link it below to fully understand the story. Asagao's ability is to stop time for up to six seconds.)

Three Part Intro (Broken up because the first ch is so long)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

A03 Version Here:

Word count: 6k total

—-

Tapping his feet in already brewing annoyance, Chuuya pushed his phone closer to his ear as each ear grating ring pissed him off by the second. And honestly, by the third one he debated throwing the entire object into the wall next to him in a fit of frustration.

He knew that little mackerel was doing this on purpose, sending his calls to voicemail over and over again. That guy never had anything notable going on and he knew the boss was gonna have his ass if he didn’t get in contact with that little shit.

But fortunately, or rather unfortunately for him, the line picked up on the fifth ring only to hear that same happy go lucky, irritating sing-song tone he alway seemed to use.

He hated that sound more than anything, mostly because the ginger he was about to be made fun of. “Oh Chuuuuuya, what an impatient little dog you are, blowing up my phone like this. Can't get enough of me I see.”

Gritting his teeth to hold his outburst, Chuuya simply scoffed. “Shut up, it's your own damn fault for not picking up. I know you are doing it on purpose, you shitty little mackerel.”

The voice on the other hands only hummed though, obviously unbothered. “So rude, Chuuuya, assuming such things. I am actually very busy right now. Which is why your interruption is way less pleasant than usual. And that’s saying something, considering your presence is never pleasant.”

Chuuya knew better though. “Bullshit, you’re never busy. You’re probably just fucking around somewhere.”

Just then, he heard a fake ass gasp on the side of the phone only for Dazai to answer straightforwardly. “If you call “fucking around” me currently pinning down a beautiful woman then I suppose you're right about that. Isn’t that right, love?”

Almost immediately, the ginger felt bile work its way into his throat, shoving the feeling down before shouting back roughly. “Ah, you’re so fucking disgusting! I don’t wanna know about that shit.”

Oh my god, why did he have to bring up that kind of stuff?! The last thing he wanted to do was picture shitty stupid Dazai like that, especially with some nonamed whore or brain dead manipulated bitch.

That poor soul that was with him right now, the one Dazai just called love, he pitied her, whoever she was.

Forcing the idea from his mind, Chuuya then shook his head before adding. “Listen, the boss gave us another mission in a couple days and I wanna make sure you don’t try to ditch again or else I’m gonna kill you for real, got that?!”

He knew the kid’s pattern after all, Chuuya knew how flighty and unreliable that stupid mackerel really was and he wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to get dragged into that again. The first time he flaked was bad enough.

But as expected, Dazai didn’t sound serious, he didn’t even sound remotely interested in his threats as the boy simply waved the question away. “Don’t worry slug, I’ll be there. Can’t have my dog getting lonely, now can I?”

At that name, Chuuya felt his anger spike, the boy unable to stop his outburst. What was his damn problem?! “You fuckin…I’m not a dog!!’

Dazai’s voice only came back confused though, his voice just as annoying, cheerful and mocking as usual. “How strange, all I can hear is woof woof woof so I’m gonna hang up now! See ya, Chibi.”

And just like that, the line turned dead, causing the ginger’s eye to twitch before tightening his hold on his phone before giving into the impulse and throwing the object against the wall next to him.

Watching the phone shatter to prices before his eyes, Chuuya then shook his head before grumbling out his frustrations to absolutely no one.

“I’m gonna kill him..”

——-

Closing his flip phone absentmindedly, Dazai simply smiled to himself before placing the object back into his pants pocket only to hear the voice underneath him speak out hopefully. “Was that Chuuya?”

The boy only shook his head though, pushing his foot further into the speakers chest in order to shove his enemy further into the ground roughly. “Don’t sound so happy about it. That slug shouldn’t gain such a reaction.”

His opponent only put her hands out in defense though, turning her head curiously to the side with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. I’m just curious, that’s all.”

Dazai expected that kind of response though, his eyes moving up in order to glance around the familiar port mafia owned warehouse that they had spent the last hour or so before she spoke again.

And this time, it was far more pushy than before. “Sooo, what did he say?”

Already feeling his lips twist into a bitter smirk, Dazai’s foot then pushed deeper into her chest, exulting double the amount of force in order for her to stop speaking. “Those aren’t the kinds of things you should be worried about, Asa-chan, considering the position you're in right now..”

Which was something that Asagao seemed to be missing in her tiny little brain considering he was currently pinning her down to the dirty and dusty warehouse floor by his foot. He clearly had the upper hand here so there was no reason for her to speak so casually.

That, and the fact that she was asking about Chuuya of all people in this sort of dangerous position caused Dazai’s sick and twisted port mafia heart to darken with malice. He was the one she was supposed to be focusing on, not that glorified hat rack.

She was at the mercy of the demon prodigy and she was acting like they were talking about the weather. He wanted her to regret ever asking about that hat rack in the first place, to apologize between his fingers for not taking his presence seriously and speaking of another so foolishly.

Then to prove his point, the boy reached into his pocket before taking out his gun in order to point the barrel straight at her head with silent warning.

It was a move that would make any one shutter and cower immediately. In fact, it was something he used a million times before to intimate each and everyone of his enemies.

But he had already learned that Asagao didn’t play by the rules of his other opponents.

Turning her head in confusion, the girl simply looked at the foot that was constricting her breathing before returning to the demon with a gentle smile of unbothered idiocy. “Oh, I’m not worried.”

And for a moment, Dazai paused, playing her game. “And why’s that, love?”

He wanted to see what she’d say, how she would justify her calm and collected behavior even though she was staring down the barrel of his gun. Yes, Asagao had outwardly said that she wasn’t afraid of dying by his hand but she wasn’t even trying to get out of it.

And he knew she could, he knew that the hellhound could fight back him if she so chose, so the fact that she was allowing Dazai to pin her down like this was interesting to say the least.

This girl, she was seconds from death and still her eyes held not one bit of urgency.

A moment later, Asagao spoke, her voice full of nostalgic memory as she reached forward in order to pull the barrel closer to her chest. “Because this is how we met, remember?”

Almost immediately, Dazai’s mind seemed to snap back to their first encounter almost an entire year ago. Huh, she was right. They had been in this position before, hadn’t they?

Back when the boy was drowning in his grief, back when he found an intruder in his friend's old place and threatened them in the same exact manner.

If only he knew how utterly life changing that little meeting had been, what kind of storm erupted from the moment he tore that hoodie off her head and looked into her Odasaku eyes.

And it was the same now, the boy looking down at her glasses free expression in order to catalog and trace the iris silently to himself. He seemed to do that a lot lately, getting lost in the emptiness as it swallowed him whole each and every time.

He was grateful for it also, knowing that the dullness of her eyes was way more welcoming then the darkness of his own soul, that by having her here he had switched the method of his demise.

Yes, drowning in Asagao was much more tolerant than drowning in his grief.

A sweeter way to die indeed, a more pleasant experience than what he ever deserved, and yet Dazai couldn’t stop himself from staring even so.

So much so, Dazai felt his lips twist upwards in familiar memory before his finger carefully cocked the gun with a dark chuckle. “Oops. You’re right, how silly of me. Let’s continue where we left off then, hmm?”

Then without a second thought, the executive pulled the trigger as a loud shot echoed through the warehouse. And most people would’ve been horrified by such a reaction, they would have regretted aiming at something he just so clearly said that he admired.

But you see, Dazai didn’t underestimate his girlfriend, not one bit.

Casually putting his hand down on his side, the mafioso then smirked to himself before turning around only to find his enemy a couple feet away, her hands on her hips. “Damn, you really tried to shoot me. I’m surprised and a little impressed, demon prodigy.”

Dazai only shrugged his shoulders though, unbothered. “Well, you told me to look at you as a threat, did you not, Asa-chan?”

It was conversation that was very prevalent in his mind, even today. Sure, the boy should’ve taken their fights easy, he should’ve sparred in a way that made sure Oda’s sister was safe but that wasn’t his style, and neither was hers.

No, Dazai treated her like a real threat, just like she deserved, he trusted that she was smart enough to anticipate his moves and counteract, like just right now.

And the fact that she had done just that also proved his theory that she could’ve gotten out his hold at any time.

What a sneaky shady little hellhound she was. He was onto her big time.

Then as if to prove his internal analysis, he watched Asagao’s face twist into that same twisted, psychotic and giddy smile that enticed him time and time again before watching her fingers twitch in unkept adrenaline just by that simple phrase.

And Dazai would never understand the power his acknowledgment had on her. That just by giving her his entire strength she was already antsy to match it. The hellhound training that had been embedded into her since she was a child, it coated and clouded every other single thought in her brain.

Pushing her fingers up to the ponytail that held her unruly crimson mane in place, Asagao then chuckled darkly before practically ripping the restraint in order to let her hair free.

And with that simple move, she had also ripped down the chains that held the monstrous creature beneath the surface, unafraid of the response it would give. “Oh Samu, you know just how to rile a girl up, don’t you? You’re right about that one, I am a threat. Now allow me to live up to your potential of me and show you how..”

And Dazai loved it, he loved that crazed beast-like look more than anything, his stance grounding itself immediately only to find that his enemy had disappeared in front of his eyes. Ah, she was using her time stopping ability. How cute.

Turning the safety off his gun, the boy then narrowed his eyes before sensing a change of wind to the right in order to let off three more shots just as Asagao reappeared millimeters from his face.

She seemed to register the bullets just in time, her body rolling to the ground in order to just miss the dangerous attacks as Dazai smirked in admiration.

And let’s be honest, should he have been pointing that gun at her like this? No. Should he have been directing his shots with the intent to kill. Also no. It was insanely risky and if she was even second too late then he would have the blood of another Oda on his hands.

Which was something the boy wrestled with internally but it seemed like his port mafia blood craved the opposite, to see just what amazing and enticing ways she could get out each deadly situation he threw at her.

And that desire, that allure was stronger than his fear to keep her locked away forever. No, she had a power, and it was too enticing to ignore, especially for the twisted mafioso who was looking for something entertaining.

He was then taken out of his thoughts as a rough hand wrapped around the barrel of his gun in order to pull it forward without fear as Asagao smirked in victory.

It didn’t matter that the chamber was loaded, it didn’t matter that his fingers were on the trigger and any slight movement could cause the end of her life.

Asa’s grip remained firm, her leg barreling into his side in order for Dazai's muscles to jump and his finger to loosen from the trigger just as she pulled it into her line of sight.

And once the cool metal was in her hands, Dazai wondered what she’d do with it, his senses on high alert only to watch the girl simply empty out the chamber of bullets with one hand, the quiet clinking of metal catching his attention immediately.

How dare she, she had the shot and didn’t take it.

Unsatisfied by her actions, the mafioso then darkened before the boy predicted her next strike in order to grab onto her fist roughly and twist it unnaturally behind her back with a huff.

No, she needed to know that she wasn’t as sly as she thought. That he was onto her little game. “Since you’re all riled up, does that mean you’ll stop holding back now too?”

He wondered how she would react to that, if she would lie about his little discovery or own up to her hypocrisy wholeheartedly? Either could be possible, considering she hadn’t disclosed to him outwardly about her watered down battles.

Asagao told him herself back in Bar Lupin that she was a prodigy just like him, that she could murder like a high level assassin and kill with the quickest of hands.

But if that was true then why hadn’t she tried that with him yet? Why hadn’t Asa displayed intent to kill with Dazai if she was so strongly in favor for believable fights?

It didn’t make sense, and he wanted to know why.

And for a moment, she felt her body still underneath his rough touch, as if she really had to think about his words. He seemed to have broken into something personal for her.

Interesting, she wasn’t denying it. But hold on, was she saying that he couldn’t handle her full hellhound side? That he was some kind of fragile little boy who wouldn't stand a chance? Did she forget that he was in the mafia, the youngest executive in the history of the organization?

She didn’t need to worry about such a thing, besides if that was the result Dazai knew he wouldn’t have opposed. So instead, he coaxed her some more. “Come on, Asa-channn. You’re no fair. I wanna die, remember?”

But even still, Asagao didn’t seem convinced, her body unmoving and eyes closing before he felt her physically shiver underneath his touch, almost like she was reliving some kind of unpleasant memory.

Something scared her, enough to cause such a visceral reaction.

Then Dazai watched as Asagao’s head slumped down into herself, her voice strained and bitter, a tone that the boy had never heard from her before. “I don’t kill anymore, I don’t want to be that person again..

Those words, they felt big, like a massive weight had just fallen on both of their shoulders. But why? What did they mean? What kind of person was she when she killed? What was she like when she truly allowed the hellhound side to fully overtake her? He wanted to ask her.

Yet before he could process that sentence, Asa used his apprehension in order to kick his shin and shift her body around, grabbing onto his forearm before flipping the skinny thin boy backwards over her shoulder.

Feeling his body slam against the ground, the girl then moved on top of him, reversing their previous position with a wave of her finger. “Besides that would be a pretty painful way to go, don’t you think?.”

His entire head began to spin instantly, both from the hit and from her change in attitude. Now she was happy, playful and just as carefree as before. There was no sign of that bitter suffocation that he had heard at all.

Which meant only one thing, she was covering it up.

But to be completely honest, every single thought he had seemed to drown out completely as he looked up at the towering force above him.

Her long messy hair was blanketed over her, shielding the two of them in a cave of her own design as she stared down with that same alluring dead eyed stare that he had admired before.

And not only that, the dim, dingy warehouse lights behind her seemed to melt around her head, bathing her in an ethereal light of some kind, something that made the boy’s heart flip unexpectedly and without warning.

God, she looked like an angel like this, so perfect, so heavenly.

Yet whether she resembled an angel of life or death was to be decided. Perhaps this was a sign from some unknown force, telling him that Oda Asagao would either be the beginning or the end of him.

Perhaps she would be the last thing he would see before leaving this world peacefully or perhaps she would carry him to the afterlife and into the pits of hell with her siren song and her dangerous words. He didn’t know.

He was playing with fire after all, selfish by staying by her side even though he shouldn’t have been allowed to. He was clouding her white light, binding her wings and making her fall to meet his level just because he couldn’t bear to be lonely.

How cruel he truly was, to not have the heart to set her free. It was too late now, the demon and the fallen angel, their fates had been sealed whether he liked it or not.

Reaching his fingers up, Dazai then ghosted across a strand of her falling hair before turning his head in curiosity. “Touché. Well, since you know so much let me ask you, love. What do you think is the most beautiful way to die?”

He wanted to know her answer, more than anyone before. Because he knew that she would answer honestly. She wouldn’t brush it off or disregard the meaning like everyone else.

Dying was a touchy subject it seemed, because although the boy craved it more than anything, it seemed whenever he brought up his little sad goal, no one ever gave him the answer he was looking for.

He didn’t want to be comforted or to hear that there was no beautiful way of death. No, he wanted perspective, real and true perspective. To see what constituted beauty for others, what that meant in terms of what he was searching for.

Because as much as he wished for peace and beauty in death, the boy didn’t know exactly what that meant. How strange it always was, searching for something so desperately even though he didn’t know the true extent of the meaning.

Waiting with bated breath, Dazai allowed her to silently think before the girl put a finger with a quiet and pensive hum. ““Hmmm, that’s a tough one..”

Then she closed her eyes before her lips curved into a confident beam of light. “I guess I would have to say a lovers suicide!”

And that light was blinding, mixing in with the makeshift halo behind her in order for Dazai to turn his head in confusion.He had never thought about that before. Hell, he didn’t even know the term. How curious. “Lovers suicide?”

Nodding to herself, Asa then lifted her pinky finger out in explanation. “Yeah, like a double suicide, you know? Because even if you deemed that the world was awful, you would still have to admit that there was at least one person that made the experience worth it, enough to want to follow them all the way to the afterlife.”

Then to prove her point, the girl simply reached down before interlocked Dazai’s pinky finger with her own, a small smile of her lips as the boy gazed at the sight in awestruck wonder.

Of course she would say something like that. Only Asagao could answer a question about death so hopefully and tragically captivating. Her desire to see the good, to twist the narrative into a positive one, they were extremely prevalent here.

But for once, Dazai didn’t mind it, he liked the idea of having someone to die with. The thought had never crossed his mind before, to have someone to treasure you enough to want to follow you until the very end. It sounded nice. Almost beautiful even, just like he wanted.

Testing out the words on his tongue, the boy whispered. “A double suicide..”

Nodding once, Asa pulled their interlocked pinkies towards her heart in reply. “Yeah! It’s romantically tragic in its own right, don’t you think?”

It was, it really was. In fact, it was so tragically perfect that Dazai knew he would’ve never had thought of such a thing himself. Simply because he wouldn't have allowed himself to think of something so nice and positive.

But now that it was spoken into the world, it couldn’t be forgotten. “I’ve never thought about that before. Do you really think someone would want to do that with me?”

Could it be, could someone really dedicate themselves to him to that extent, enough to give up everything, to walk hand and hand with him to the end of the line? No, that was impossible, no one wanted him, especially in that way.

Asa only shrugged her shoulders though. “You never know! Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

Then all at once, clarity seemed to flash in his eyes. “You’re right..”

That’s it, he just had to ask every woman he saw, then maybe one day he’d get lucky.

Reaching forward, Dazai then shifted his hands in order to grasp onto her wrist before meeting her eyes with a hopeful smile. “Hey Asa-chan! Do you wanna..”

Yet Asagao seemed to already know where he was going with his question, her hand immediately unlatching from his in order to playfully shove her palm into his face and push him back onto the ground. “Sorry Osu, I would do a lot of things for you but killing myself won’t bring me closer to my brother. The only death I’ll accept is one by your hand.”

Damn it, she had said that before, hadn’t she? Ah well, worth a shot.

Throwing his arms out with a child-ish whine, Dazai then pouted his lips at the rejection. “Boo, you give me such a good idea and then turn me down? That’s not very nice. I’m sad now.”

Asagao only laughed though, her tiny giggles taking up the space of his question before pointing a finger out in an offer of her own. “Well, we can’t have that. Oh, I know. How about we stop by the shop on the way home and I’ll buy you some canned crab to make up for it?”

And although it wasn’t what he wanted, her offer enticed him just as much, the boy’s eyes sparkling with pure joy in order to nod his head excitedly.

“Deal!”

——

Stepping through the door of Odasaku’s apartment, Asagao happily turned on the light, the plastic bag full of canned crab clinking together as she moved, only for Dazai to quickly take off his black mafia jacket and throw it on the ground.

And in the past couple weeks of them reuniting, the girl noticed Osamu's childish traits more and more, an action that made her strangely happy. Sure, she still wasn’t sure if he was being completely authentic but she couldn't deny that he at least looked more free when he did them.

In fact, their relationship had grown exponentially since the night Asa cared for him and took off his bandages. She was worried that by pushing that much she would’ve scared him away but it seemed to be the opposite, and for that she was grateful.

Now he came over whenever he pleased, without excuse, and without worry. She would make sure he ate and they would watch TV together and sometimes they would go out to spar like tonight. If anything, the two had definitely moved past the term strangers and into more of a friendship based relationship.

They understood each other, most of the time without words, and that was refreshing to both of them, considering no one else could do such an impossible thing. They were alike and yet so different depending on the circumstance. It was almost fascinating to think about.

She had never had that before, someone that understood so much with so little.

And where most people would call it invasive, Asagao saw his nosey and deductive attitude as a marvel. Although, she wasn’t sure if he felt the same way, considering she stepped out of boundaries before.

But those days seemed long gone as the girl turned back to Osamu only to pause when she noticed discolored tan stains on the bandages around his arms. Well, that was weird.

Reaching her hand up, Asagao then lightly touched his forearm, careful to keep her touch on the gauze as she inspected the source. “What is this?”

Although all she received was a boy-ish smile, filled with fake innocence. “Coffee?”

Almost immediately, something about his sentence seemed off, causing Asa to cock an eye with suspicion. “I didn’t even know you drank coffee..”

Then all at once, the boy nodded his head erratically, his lips moving at a mile a minute in order to give an over the top laugh. “Oh, yeah! I love it, I can’t get enough of it. That’s why I spilled some on me this morning. Oops, I’m so clumsy, aren’t I? Didn’t even notice it till now.”

Pouting his lips all at once, Dazai then whined to himself dramatically. “But now that you mention it, it feels really gross, like super uncomfortable. Asa-chan, you gotta save me! I don't know how I can go on like this..!”

His story was strange, considering she had never heard him speak about liking coffee before, nor did he ever choose that as his drink of choice. Usually it was just whiskey and any other alcohol he could get his hands on.

And what Asagao didn’t know was that she was completely right. In fact, Dazai had never touched the stuff before this morning. He didn’t love coffee, but the reason he had bathed himself in it was purposeful.

You see, ever since the first night Asagao changed his bandages, Dazai couldn’t get enough. He wanted that feeling back, the one that made him feel so safe and cared for. He couldn’t get it out of his head, and trust me, he had tried.

Which led him to taking matters into his own hands, aka finding ways to dirty his bandages so that he would have an excuse to give Asagao the next time he saw her.

At first it started with blood, making sure to purposely hurt his enemies in the most messy way possible in order to soil the white gauze, but then it moved to other things such as alcohol, and rolling around in dirt or dunking himself in nearby rivers.

And today’s plan involved coffee. He had gotten the idea when he saw one of his subordinates walk around the corner with one. So naturally, he ordered the guy to give it up in order to pour the lukewarm liquid on his arms with delightful glee.

Anything to get Asa to touch him like that again, to feel so important and special again. Was it underhanded? Possibly, but the boy knew he couldn’t just come out and ask for such an embarrassing thing.

Staying silent for a moment, he then watched as Asagao seemed to turn his wrist, examining the sight before she let him go with a smile. “I’ll go get the bandages. Meet you on the couch.”

And just like that, he had won yet again, causing the boy to practically skip to the plush cushions of the sofa, unable to hide his delight in song as he watched her go into Oda’s bedroom to receive the first aid kit. “Yay! Asa-chan is gonna help me, she’s gonna help me, yeah! Asa-chan is the best, she’s the very best, yeah!”

Once she turned the corner though, Asagao couldn’t help but close her eyes, already sensing his deceptive demeanor. No one spilled things that clumsily, especially Dazai. Which meant that it was for a purpose.

But because his actions didn’t seem self destructive, the girl chose to ignore them. It’s not like she minded changing out his bandages time and time again. In fact, she loved doing it, it made her feel closer to him.

Returning to the sofa, Asagao then placed herself beside him before placing the gauze on the table only for Dazai to immediately loosen his port mafia tie from his neck with one hand. “Lean closer, darling.”

So she did, the girl pushed her head closer to him so that he could slip off her glasses before unraveling the tie as she averted her gaze from his in silent wait.

Back in the warehouse she may have been able to look at him without her blurry barriers but now that she wasn’t distracted by the fight everything seemed way harder. She still couldn’t look at him head on like this, no matter how much she tried.

Dazai didn’t seem to mind though, his fingers only focused on securing the black tie around her eyes and into a firm knot as Asagao felt herself let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

So much better.

Then once her view was obstructed, Dazai couldn’t help but soften at the sight of her instant compliance each and every time.

He loved how she never protested to such a strange request, how she never judged him for not being able to do this without the blindfold. No, she knew that he needed this to continue and Dazai was grateful for that.

Once it was done, Asagao moved her fingers towards the coffee stained coverings before slowly undoing each bind as Dazai felt his breath hitch inside his throat at the emotionally intimate contact.

And even though they had done this exchange about a dozen times, each one felt like the very first. It never got easier, it never made his ears stop ringing and his skin stop shivering.

But like some psychotic masochistic man, Dazai never pulled away, his eyes always entranced with her careful and respectful moves, each calculated, each with a certain intent.

He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of it, the way she cherished him.

Because as scary as it was, her gentle non judgemental fingers gave him a sense of calm along with the chaos. They terrified him and yet they always soothed him in every kind of mitch matched way.

They reached down to the deepest part of his soul, the one he didn’t know existed and embraced it in a warm and welcoming hug. And though the warmth was uncomfortable and foreign, he didn’t outright hate it anymore.

In fact it was quite the opposite, the boy wanted to run to it, he wanted to jump head first into that dangerous and vulnerable place and never return. He was addicted in every possible way, addicted to the idea of being held by her forever.

This was all her fault, how could she? Making him experience such a life changing feeling, he knew this would happen, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to resist this once he had it. How dare she, how dare she make him feel such weak and fragile emotions again.

How dare she coax him into thinking he deserved such a wonderful experience like this?

Those thoughts made him want to be protected by her hands forever, and with the low murmur of the TV in the background and the sickeningly sweet sound of Asagao’s hum to break through the noise, Osamu did feel exactly that.

Protected.

Slowly and without words, Asagao then hummed to herself in order to wrap the fresh clean bandages around his arms before securing the sight and pulling down her blindfold. “Do you feel better now?”

He simply nodded, still in a daze as Asagao smiled softly in return before replacing her glasses. “Good, I’m glad.”

A soft silence appeared then as the two kids allowed it to fill the room in order to turn their attention to the screen that was playing the latest anime episode of the show that they had been interested in lately.

This was nice, just being with him, relaxing without a care in the world. It made the foreign walls of her brother’s apartment feel more personal and belonging. Hopefully it was the same for Osamu also.

Just then, the sounds from the TV snapped her back to reality, watching as the the main character clapped excitedly as the room around her revealed her friends and family, all of them wishing her a happy birthday in joyish surprise. Aw, how cute. They planned all that out for her.

The sight couldn’t help make Asagao pause though, realizing something almost immediately. “Hey, Samu. Now that I think about it, when is your birthday? My brother never said in his letters and I’ve always been curious.”

Yet that’s when she watched Dazai pause, his voice rather dead and monotone, as if he was mentally waving the question away. “Oh, it was five months ago.”

Feeling her face fell in horror, Asa shook her head in denial. “W-Wait..I missed it..?”

No, that couldn’t be. That meant that during the time they were apart he celebrated his birthday by himself? How sad. No one even knew and he just let it pass like nothing, didn’t he?

Wait. That meant that Dazai was now sixteen, didn't it? She didn’t even realize.

It didn’t matter that he never mentioned it until now, how could possibly let such a thing pass so quietly without a word? Now she felt awful. “Oh no, I’m so sorry Samu! What kind of fake girlfriend am I? I didn’t even say happy birthday to you. What is wrong with me, I should've asked sooner, I should’ve..”

Yet the boy only cut her off though, his tone clearly dismissive. “Don’t worry about it. Celebrating life is stupid anyways.”

But how could she not worry about it? That was an impossible task, one that she knew she couldn't complete “B-But..I..”

Dazai only pushed a finger to her lips though, stopping any sense of self hatred she was about to utter before shaking his head.“I already said don’t worry your pretty little head, love. Now, stop that frown or else you’ll turn ugly like Chuuya.”

Then the boy simply smiled before flopping his head onto her lap comfortably in order to turn towards the TV and ignore the conversation completely. “Now, shush, pillows aren’t supposed to be noisy.”

And when the air turned silent once more, it was far more solemn as Asagao absently moved her hand to his hair with an unsatisfied sigh.

But for Dazai, the topic had already left his mind as the soothing feeling of her hand on his hair caused his eyes to grow heavier and heavier with bliss, immediately getting lost in the soft caresses and lulling touch.

How could he think about anything when her magic had already utterly captivated him?

Feeling Osamu’s head sink further into the safety of her lap, Asagao felt her eyes soften at the sleeping boy before thinking back to her previous question.

And though Dazai seemed to forget about it, she could not, his sad little words consuming her mind all at once.

Celebrating life is stupid anyways

Closing her eyes with dissatisfaction, Asagao then shook her head, not liking the implications of his words as she wished to change them even so.

And she would change them, she had to.

“But it’s not just any life, it’s your life. ”

#bsd dark era #bsd dazai #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai osamu #fanfic #bsd odasaku #dazai x fem reader #dazai x y/n #dazai x you #dazai x odasaku!sister #dazai x female reader #dazai x reader #dazai x oc #chuuya fifteen #bsd chuuya #chuuyabsd #a03 writer #Dazai #a03 fic

[cor-lapis-candy]

Soooo @teyvatmoon you wanted crusty man Diluc? Let's do that! But what if I make him desperate and pathetic? Like a drowned rat, needy and gross with you while everyone else would think him just some stoic shut in?

I think that works best...

For the second night this week, your flatmate had been making a racket, his music audible through not one but two, semi decent, walls and into your room. Lord knows what the other apartment on the other side of his wall thought of this apartment but enough was enough.

No matter how grumpy he seems during the day, it's ten P.M and after all the shit that had happened between classes and a certain ginger who is all too eager to get in your space, you just wanted some peace, perhaps even some silence and to be able to sleep for more than four hours at a time for once.

There is no point in bothering to fully redress after getting ready for bed, not a thought into how you are only in your underwear and a large shirt as you are storming across the lounge separating your rooms, the rap of your knuckles lost in the music, only too be followed by several slaps of your palm against his door with little success.

The continued racket and clear ignorance of your banging is making you form a scowl and simmers an anger rivalling a toddler scale meltdown, shouldering his door open to start what should have been a one-sided yelling match, your anger is quick to fizzle out at the sight of your roommate.

Of Diluc Ragnvindr, red headed grouch and usually stoneface sociology major stretched out across his bed, face buried in what looks to be one of your gym shirts that went missing like two days ago. One of his hands fisting his cock, clearly chasing what looked like one hell of a high, unaware of your presence in his room, or it seemed like he was unaware like till flicking your eyes up to find him watching you.

Your name is a barely ringing whine from him, nose still buried in that shirt as he cum's.

A mess of cum dripping down across his hand and even onto the half pushed up shirt he wore, the red that colours his face either from the shame of getting caught or from the clear exertion of his little session.

While it may have taken you a moment you're quick to snatch the remote for his sound system, pressing the off button and plunging the room into silence.

"What the actual fuck are you doing. I-Is that...Did you really steal my fucking clothes? Just-just to jack off with?!"

Flicking your eyes around his room your quick to catch sight of other items that had once been yours, a hairbrush that you thought broke, a pair of underwear that had one too many holes in it, and two items that were more personal in nature. A bottle of scented lube that you had only half used, and a small bullet vibe that was a 'gag' gift from another friend of yours.

"Diluc. You have like, ten seconds to explain, or I am going to throttle you and call your nasty ass brother to come get you and your shit."

When you finally look over at the redhead again, he paints an almost desperate picture, sitting up on his knees, your shirt on his lap, hands half stretched out towards you, ignorant of the one still coated in his cum, cheeks still tinted pink with tears gathering in his eyes.

"P-Please it's just. Your so good, so nice. An-and you smell so good, that I know y-you would never go for me. But-" when his hands reach out to grasp your arm, the feeling of his warm skin and now half-dried cum against your skin pulls a shiver from you, "-please, please don't leave or call anyone. I'll. I'll keep out of your way, won't touch any of your things ever again. Just please, don't leave!"

The sight of someone like Diluc, who tends to paint the picture of reserved confidence, begging you not to leave him, tears spilling down his cheeks, skin still flushed pink as he sniffles softly. It's something that sits a certain way in the back of your mind, maybe he would learn his lesson and stop all this weird shit if you kept the threat of calling all of this in over his head.

"Okay, I won't go but you nee-"

"Thank you!" he is quick to lean further into your space, his grip on your arm pulling you slightly down as he does.

"But! We do have to talk about how even when you got caught, you just kept going at it! And not to mention- Really?! Are you that fucking down bad, that even if you just came, the moment you pull me close your hard again? What is wrong with you!"

The sweat of his palm makes where his hand is wrapped around your arm feel just a little bit slimy as the perspiration mixes with his half dried cum, the mixture unsettling to you but for him it was something like a mark of possession, something that would tide him over till you stopped talking and stormed back out, hopefully you would leave his little prizes here and let him have his moments of bliss with your possessions again.

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #diluc smut #cw: incel behaviours #incel diluc #corposting #diluc x reader

[poetryandfluffycats]

One of Those Nights

A/N: this is the first fic I've ever posted on here please be kind 😭

Pairing: Leo Tsukinaga x fem! reader

Warnings: Maybe slightly ooc Leo, very mild cussing

Content: Leo has a habit of waking up with inspiration at weird hours, this is one of those times

Words: 625

Oneshot under cut!

"Wahahha! I'm a genius! Look (name), aren't I genius?"

Leo had a habit of doing this. Waking up at some ungodly hour of the night after inspiration hit him. Which was great, as his partner I loved that he was working so hard for his unit. Only problem was, these late night bursts of creativity often woke me up, and Leo would not stop blabbering until he fell back asleep himself.

I was laying ontop of the covers with my feet in the air as I watched Leo at his desk, papers sprawled out everywhere. His ginger hair was down from his usual ponytail and his green eyes sparkled with delight. He was beautiful, yes, but also quite a pain in the ass at times.

"(name) (name) (name)~ what do you think of these lyrics? Aren't they good? I can't wait to show everyone!" He flung some papers over at the bed and I barely managed to catch them.

"Yes darling, your a genius" I mumbled sleepily as I read through the scribbles on the paper. It was just a few random verses and a chorus thrown together, but it did flow nicely.

"Yes! Isn't it great! I wrote it about you, can you tell? It's a love song" He was bouncing up and down in his chair like a little kid. I couldn't help but smile at his antics.

I gently placed the paper down on the bed and rested my head in arms, creating a makeshift pillow for myself.

"Hmm" I hummed in response to Leo and closed my eyes, my tiredness slowly taking over my body. I could almost feel myself drifting into unconscious, until...

WACK!

"Ack! What-" I suddenly found myself with Leo sitting on my back, a pillow in his hand and a shit-eating grin on his face. Obviously, I wasn't getting away that easy.

"Hey! You can't go to sleep yet, I still have so many ideas to tell you about," he gave me the biggest puppy dog eyes, "Please?"

I sighed. There was just no way I could stay mad at him. Not at those eyes. Looking up at him, I smiled and caressed his cheek, rubbing my thumb against his soft skin. "Can you at least come to bed? I promise, you can still tell me all about your genius plans"

"Hmmmm" Leo leaned his head into my hand, pondering my question.

I gave him a quick peck on the lips, "Please?"

A small blush dusted his cheeks and his expression lightened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "okay, since you asked so nicely"

He sild off me and snuggled under the covers, making grabby hands at me to follow suit.

I rolled my eyes and sild in beside him, my chest flush against his and our faces inches apart. I wrapped my arms around him and lazily slung my leg over his, taking in the warmth of his body.

"So, tell me about these ideas of yours"

"Oh! Well I had this thought about-"

And off he went, rambling on about whatever came to his mind in the moment. I just laid there, listening to him and occasionally giving him a kiss whenever he stopped to breath.

Slowly but surely, his brainstorming slowed down, and I could see his eyelids growing heavy. He nuzzled into my chest and his speech became more slurred and incoherent as he continued, until he was nothing more than a blabbering mess.

I placed a soft kiss to his forehead, "Goodnight darling"

"Hmm, nighty night.."

With that, he was out like a light.

I smiled to myself, nuzzling my head into his ginger locs and sighing.

Maybe these late night brainstorms weren't such a bad thing.

#leo tsukinaga #leo tsukinaga x reader #enstars x reader #ensemble stars x reader #ensemble stars oneshot #oneshot #enstars #ensemble stars #knights x reader

[hyperraduo22]

my personal take on the todd anderson hair color debate from a hairstylist perspective

~ alr y’all time to analyze this shit cuz i’m going back to my second year of beauty school in september and also i’ll be bored away from home so i’m not styling any clients at the moment

lemme just start off with the fact that this boy is very beautiful but not only is his anxiety making him look like a confused ass goldfish at times but also it’s making his hair confused cause like in some shots, he does look like a bit of a brunette-

but then there’s other shots especially when he’s outside or under a lot of bright lighting where i see more yellow/golden undertones seen within blonde hair

so ofc i had to whip out more photos from other movies and like…

he looks more like he has brown hair but there’s a few blonde streaks in there like- give me a goddamn break

overall, i’m judging by the level system (as hairstylists are usually taught in school) and of course overall knowledge of undertones and other colors out there. there’s multiple conclusions i’ve come to:

1. he has lightest brown hair (level 5) ( i can’t put a link to the exact image i’m using but you can search up “level system hair color” if you wanna see what i’m referencing to, however depending on the brand of hair color/company the level system is from, there might be slight alterations due to the way that brand formulates their haircolor and how it interacts with the natural colors so not every image will match the names i’m using )

from certain shots, he has overwhelmingly more red undertones in his hair which is the undertones that are exposed more in brunettes. it looks more like a golden brown or possibly coppery brown color in some instances.

2. he has dark blonde hair (level 6)

if my eyes aren’t tricking me, there’s also shots where the undertones that are exposed are more orange-coppery/yellow-golden-leaning which indicate more blonde hair but it’s definitely a darker blonde no doubt.

3. bro has mixed melanin

yes there are people who have hair that naturally has more than one color. the most common example we see is those who have grey recently coming in or salt and pepper hair, however, this can also happen with other natural hair colors like browns, blondes, and gingers. he very well may have more brown hair but then there’s streaks or even patches of dark blonde hair mixed in there.

4. he has changing hair color ⭐️

there are people i’ve met whose hair color has changed overtime and typically blondes are more susceptible to it. especially when seasons change, sun exposure can affect hair color and make it so your hair lightens in the summer but darkens in the winter (just look up sun bleaching like why tf does a star from that far away have that effect??). however, this still means he has some sort of hair color whether it’s more blonde or brunette leaning—that’s up to you to decide from the hair colors above.

as you can see, i starred it cause i personally believe this the most. ( i also believe this happens to his brother jeffrey as well to a different extent )

5. he could’ve had his hair dyed

i don’t personally believe this but it’s a possibility i put on the table from a hairstyling perspective (plus the actors could’ve gotten hair done before shooting the movie which i mean they did get their hair cut so who knows what else they could’ve gotten touched up on their hair- maybe even chemical services🤷‍♀️). it could possibly be highlights that are starting to fade but even then it doesn’t look like it to me.

^ this conclusion is hard to tell just from photos at times and lighting/editing/cameras used in movies could mess around with it more :/

it’s much more accurate to just analyze hair in person.

~ so that’s my take + other options if you can’t come to a conclusion or believe something else.

planning on posting random headcanons soon :))

#dead poets society #dead poets fandom #dead poets headcanons #dps boys #dps fandom #dps #dps hcs #todd anderson #todd anderson headcanons #todd anderson headcanon #anderperry #i would love to style todd’s hair #being a beauty student means analyzing everyone’s hair #including characters i hyperfixate on #dead poets society fandom #dead poets honor #dead poets headcanon

[alexgalaxyboo]

Nothing is stopping me except I was being polite and only sending asks to those who responded or liked that post… so grabby hands. Gimme the soapghost and 141 headcanons.

Listen I usually just churn out fifteen different aus a day but! Since you ask so nicely I can deffo get you some general hcs :'D

First of all I KNOW, how popular blonde Ghost is and that his hair is literally like.. dirty blonde in game. But he's a ginger to me okay.

Also to me he's just a Samuel Roukin and Tom Hardy lovechild. Because I'm allergic to making decisions.

I'm a firm believer that Soap is a living fucking furnace (my man's the sun figuratively AND literally).

Which also means: Soap would rather die than put a shirt on to sleep.

Soap fell first, Ghost fell harder.

It's not so much that he "fell first" though, as it is he realised what his feelings meant a little more early on. Ghost was definitely in denial and trying to be professional for longer.

But once he did he was neck deep already, there was no more denying it at that point.

There probably wasn't a big confession. They just grew closer and kept spending time together on and off missions.

It's mainly for the funsies but I really like to think that their "first kiss" was like after some big stressful mission as they meet up again, Ghost was already waiting there (let's say he was smoking or whatever so it makes sense his mask was down?) and Soap runs to him enthusiastically like "We did it Lt! We're the best!" and gets carried away as he claps his shoulder and pulls him in for a hug and also kisses him instead.

I think that it'd be really funny but also kind of make sense that it.. it wasn't some big romantic moment and there weren't many words and stuff.

After all, what more was there to say really? They were probably spending all of their time together anyway—you practically could've said they were dating already if you didn't know.

Soap hesitates for a moment before realising what he's done and immediately goes to apologise but Ghost doesn't seem to respond, just sitting there processing for a moment before it all dawns on him and he says, fuck it and pulls him in for another kiss to shut his blabbering ass up.

They probably don't really say anything until they're back on base and Ghost finds himself heading for Soap's room as soon as they're done with necessary immediate paperwork or whatever.

They decide to not like.. explicitly state anything to the team because it's not all too clear to themselves either. They all know that they're incredibly close and have a Thing going on so..

Also I think Ghost would be kind of awkward with pda and while Soap would scream his love from the rooftops for every living thing to hear he's respectful of that y'know?

Gaz pulls Soap aside at some point probably (because they're also #besties and gossip and talk mad shit about everyone on base and that's also a hill I'm dying on 😌💅) and asks him about what exactly went on with Ghost and he gives him a bare rundown.

He's really happy for them but also owes Price free drinks now next time they go out because OBVIOUSLY there were bets going on.

I'm gonna stop myself from rambling here but! If you want more always free to ask lol <3

#mailex #empresscirque #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #ghoap #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #soapghost #soap x ghost #codmw2 #call of duty #cod headcanons #ghostsoap headcanons

[buggysimp]

Kenman angst

I don't know if this is good, I don't know if it makes sense, all I know is a demon came over me and I wrote this instead of doing the dishes. Is this ooc? Maybe. Do I care? Not reallay

Not beta read, emetophobia, drinking, drug ment, unhealthy coping

Lmk if there's anything else I should tag

It was highschool. The time of their lives. Meant for fun memories and crazy stories. For parties and convenience store runs. For stupid dares and awkward confessions. These were the years meant to be the most fun.

Yet here was Eric Cartman, surrounded by people cheering him on as he got..an uncomfortable level of fucked up.

Kenny McCormick felt his insides tumble and compress painfully as he watched his best friend stagger around, face well past rosy and his movements labored. It seemed like every time they went to one of these parties now this was how Eric ended up.

Turning away he went to go get a refill on his own drink, meandering through the groups of people before ending up in the Donovan residence's kitchen. Soon the red cup in his white knuckle grip was full of some mix of shit that he didn't care to know, sipping at it at a much more leisurely pace than Eric had.

Going to parties used to be fun. They would drink and smoke and sing stupid girly pop songs while shuffling back to Kenny's shithole to sleep off the multiple highs before walking to the bus stop like a couple of zombies. Now it wasn't fun. Now it was Kenny dragging Eric home every weekend. Now it was Eric getting so fucked up he couldn't talk let alone sing. Now it was Kenny following Eric like a ghost, just there to make sure he was safe.

He remembers exactly when it changed.

When Mrs Cartman got into that accident. When Eric inherited an empty house junior year.

Back in the present, a loud crash came from behind him followed by squeals and shouts. Whether they were concerned or still cheering him on Kenny couldn't tell. What he could tell was that Eric had just busted his ass and it was time to haul him home.

"Kiiinnnyyyy..!" It wasn't hard to guess who that particular squeal came from.

The drink in his hand suddenly didn't taste that great, settling in his stomach like molten lead and leading him to the sink. Unceremoniously dropping it in he watched the vaguely pink fluid rush down the drain. Taking a deep breath he willed his nausea away, not wanting to throw up a mix of that same pink fluid and whatever junk he'd eaten.

After a minute to collect himself he was back in the living room, arms around Eric's shoulders and guiding him to the front door. People groaned and waved him off, shouting slurred goodbyes to the two while Kenny went through the motions of leaving.

"See you next week McCormick!" Came the send off from the party host himself, Clyde raising his cup in a farewell.

"See ya." Came his own gruff reply, not particularly caring about pleasantries at the moment.

The change in Eric brought with it a change in how Kenny viewed people he'd known all his life. People he'd considered his friends. People who goaded on Eric's self-destruction, who didn't care how bad it was for him as long as, in typical Cartman fashion, it was entertaining.

It felt like Kenny versus the world, like he was the only one who gave a fuck what happened to Eric at these parties. It felt like he was the only one there for his best friend. However the only people Kenny couldn't blame were Stan and Kyle.

He knew that himself and Kyle were going through very similar things in regards to their best friends.

For that reason he felt a kinship with the ginger.

Finally out of the house Kenny relished the cool air enveloping his and Eric's unpleasantly hot bodies. Kenny began the hour-long trek to his house; it would usually only take twenty minutes but when Eric was like this that number tripled.

No words were spoken between the two for a while, the only sounds breaking the silence were Eric's displeased groans and Kenny's labored grunts. About 30 minutes in and almost halfway to his house Eric finally broke out of his hold and stumbled towards the treeline before throwing up all over the ground and himself.

Kenny sucked in a breath through his teeth, rushing over to hold Eric's greasy brown hair out of his face while his other hand rubbed soothing circles on his back. He was a wreck, vomit and sweat and spilled alcohol on the front of his red t-shirt, tears streaking down his cheeks and snot smeared under his nose, his eyebrows screwed up in an absolutely pitiful display.

Kenny led him a bit away from his sick, helping him sit down in the damp post spring grass. Taking his own seat he watched the woods on the other side of the road, the odd squirrel catching his eye while he waited for Eric to calm down enough to continue walking.

Except that never happened.

Instead his breaths got wetter and heavier, his sniffling more frequent until finally he pressed into Kenny's side, smearing a mix of bile and snot on his parka as Eric sobbed into his shoulder.

Before Kenny could react Eric was talking, his slurred words further muffled by fabric.

"Everyone thinks that I'm jus like- like her! Everytime they look at me is like I can see their thoughts, 'oh there's Cartman he's jus like that skank, look at him he's a fuckin mess, he'll do whatever you say, what a joke', and the worst part is that I don.. I don't even know if they're wrong." If it hadn't been for the fact that Kenny was used to deciphering even the most unintelligible words he wouldn't have understood any of that.

"Oh God Kinny, I'm jus like my mom."

His crying had somehow worsened, his fingers dug painfully into Kenny's boney back and ribs, spit joining the mix of fluids on him as Eric practically wailed.

"I'm jus fucking like her! A fuckin drunk, a fuckin druggie, what's nex-next? I'm gonna become a fuckin crack whore juss like her too?" He spent a minute just crying and breathing until he could speak clearer. "She was all of that and worse, but-but I miss her so much Kinny. I miss her. I- fuck- I juss want my mom.." He whispered the last part, punctuating the end with a wet sniffle.

Kenny sat there, one arm loosely around Eric as he absorbed what he said. This was the most he had opened up about how the death of his mother made him feel and it left him reeling, searching for answers and words of comfort that he didn't have.

Kenny had his own fair share of parental issues, his own fears of winding up just like his own drunken, drug addicted parents. But never once did he consider that Eric had that same fear. And then it clicked.

Eric was coping the same way he watched his mother cope. He was doing all this shit to try and feel close to her again.

In what felt like a split second Kenny's own facade crumpled, his hands fisted in the back of Eric's shirt as he held him and cried. He cried because as fucked up as he was, Eric had never judged Kenny, he allowed him to also be fucked up and mean and stupid and he was his best friend and he was hurting and Eric always helped him and he was his best friend.

And in that moment Kenny McCormick did not know how to help Eric Cartman.

And it broke his heart.

And even though no words of comfort were spoken, no shift in the universe happened, no problems were truly solved, there was a blanket of understanding covering two boys as they sobbed together on the side of a wet Colorado road.

For just one second they were the only people in the world.

#south park #eric cartman #south park fandom #kenny mccormick #kenman #sp kenman #south park fic #angst #cw emetophobia #cw drinking #writers on tumblr #sorry i love them so much i have to put them through hell

[rayrayor]

Hey Kat! @mybrainismelted

Here is Drabble challenge 34 , as asked.

“ You work for me. you are my slave “

Please note, GILF ( Ginger I’d Like to F@*k )

Ian was finally home after ten years in the military, two Purple Hearts, and a Medal of Honor. Gnarly chest scars and nightmares about the brothers he could not save. He was not ready to go into EMT work yet but needed routine.

Mandy Milkovich. Bestie and Beard since freshman year. Flew out to Walter Reed and held his hand, making sure he wanted to still live. Now a regular at his and Carl's apartment. Her brothers owned Kings of the Southside Ink and her brother Mickey, the star tattooist, temperamental shit and hot beyond the dirty, angry older brother who would flop on the couch and give him and Mandy crap.

He was also in need of an assistant and receptionist, and somehow Mandy talked Ian into the job. After two weeks, he understood why the position was open. The appointment book was a mess, their insta needed an upgrade, and the complimentary beverage and snack service reminded Ian of the psych hospital.

And then there was his direct boss, Mickey. Surly and sexy, the man had no filter and no boundaries. Hard working for a man you either wanted to strangle or suck off. It was also harder as his phone blew up each day with the requests, demands, and ramblings of the raven-haired thug.

He had just come back from his run when the phone vibrated.

Pocket Jefe: Hey, is the place you get coffee the place with the coffee I like?☹️

GILF: You drink it black; literally, anywhere I go has the coffee you like.

Pocket Jefe: That’s what I pay you for; how the fuck would I know which shop? I never go to any.

GILF: That’s because your ass was banned from like 9 by the shop because of your donut tantrums.

Pocket Jefe: What, you don’t care about donuts?”

GILF : Well, I am always a fan of a glazed hole.😜

Pocket Jefe:🖕🏻

Back at the shop, Mickey was beet red, grabbed his coffee, and fled to his station.

——————————

Ian was enjoying the quiet of Staples, which he knew would not last. His phone lit up with photo of a sleeve of gears  and lilies, Mickey.

Pocket Jefe:🎤 Whips and chains excite me.

GILF: Are you asking or telling me? 

Pocket Jefe: Keep up the Gallagher. Song. What’s the name of the song with those lyrics?

GILF : Ok, again, I cannot read your mind; I need a little more than your professing love of BDSM for me. Which FYI , I am a fan. You a power bottom by chance? Also, it’s Rhiana, S&M.

Pocket Jefe: Jeez, this assistant of mine makes my dick twitch.

Pocket Jefe: Shit, did I send you a text by accident? FYI, not about you.

GLIF: What text, Mick? 

Pocket Jefe: Don’t worry, your pretty head, sweetheart, just get back here, oh, and bring me a big ass snickers. 🍫

Ian smiled and filed the information he had just given away for a later date.

———————————— 

Ian had just settled after a long day of explaining to Iggy that if he did not write down appointments, Ian could not add them. He had ice cream, jacked off to a certain pair of blue eyes, and was about to watch Drag Race. He had just settled in when his phone almost vibrated off the coffee table.

Pocket Jefe: WTF, Gallagher! You asked Colin about ink?

Pocket Jefe: What you don’t trust me, that stings, man. ☹️

Pocket Jefe: I do much better scar coverage.

Pocket Jefe: not being nosy, but saw those when you changed into a skin-tight tee. This is a semi-professional atmosphere Army, not a rub-in tug.

GILF: I never asked you cause last time I mentioned your work, you were your usually grumpy prick self and threatened to stab me with your Taco Bell spork. You were watching me change; I used to charge guys to see that. So you think of yourself as my pimp? 

Pocket Jefe: Fuck you, is what I think. Enough of this touchy-feely bullshit. Enough chitchat; my appointment is running late. Can you go feed Carl Barks and Noodles for me? Oh, and get me some Pringles, a BBQ, and a pack of smokes. You know the code to my loft.👍

GILF: You know I am off, right?”

Pockey Jefe: You get off when I tell you to get off. You work for me. You are my slave. "C'mon, please.“

GILF: Fucking fine, you need me to peel you a grape too?  🤬

Pocket Jefe: I mean, I wouldn’t say no. Seriously, when you get there, just text me and let me know everything is fine. If you want to stay, we can maybe talk about a coverup piece or something.

GILF: Ohhhh, can we have pizza and a sleepover too?

Pocket Jefe: Your pushing it, keep talking back, and your going from slave to sex slave.

Pocket Jefe: Umm, damn autocorrect, sax slave, not sex 🎷

GILF: Whoring me out to Kenny G? 🥹Bummer.

Pocket Jefe: 🖕🏻

Ian grinned. He was about to get either fired or fucked; he hoped for the latter.

————————

Mickey was just cleaning up his station, and his focus was not on his big fat tip from this work.

Ian Gallagher.

He secretly crushed on the gangly redhead when he would hang with Mandy. He knew about Ian’s history as a medic and the almost-life-ending injury that ended his career. But he saved five that day, who, by accounts, should not have survived the firefight. Deep scars were over that broad chest and hard abs. The story made those scars beautiful. He was always flustered around Gallagher, but he thought he hid it well. 

His phone vibrated, he glanced, his mouth went dry, and the warm tingle went to his crotch. Gallagher sent a photo.

Tight Kings tee, a truly Godzilla-size cock trying to break out of blue boxer briefs. A motherfucking collar. And on a silver platter no less, a small whip, a chain, grapes, and a big ass tube of strawberry lube. 

A text 

GILF: Waiting for you to tell me when I can get off; may I peel you a grape in the meantime, sir? 🫦

Mickey grabbed his keys and jogged out to his car, eager to go blow Ian’s sax. 

#gallavich fanfic #gallavich fic #ian and mickey #mickey milkovich #drabble challenge #prompt 34

[ieatsmallorphansnamedtom]

hi do you have any hcs about sebastian? or just the ass squad in general (abigail, sam, sebastian) :D

Of course, anon! Gotta love the ass squad lol. Thanks for the ask. :) Spoilers for the ass squad obviously.

Sebastian and ASS Squad Headcanons!

It was actually Sebastian that inspired Sam to start a band! Seb knows the keyboard by the time Sam is wanting to start a band, and I imagine it was him playing something for Sam that sparked the idea!

Speaking of the band, poor Abigail had to sit through hours of Sam going on and on about what it would be like when they're famous before she eventually gave in and joined (it's not like she didn't secretly like the things Sam was talking about nooo never).

I'm on the fence about Seb being a natural ginger or not, but I do think he dyes his hair a lot. Whether it be highlights or his whole head, he and Abby do it all the time together. He mostly dyes it red or blue while Abby is emptying her bottle of purple hair dye for the tenth time that week.

Seb has modded Prairie King for Abigail to make it easier for her. She repaid him by still failing the game.

Sam annoys the hell out of Seb by calling him emo - turns out he actually finds the word annoying. It's mostly due to Sam not shutting up about it, but he also dealt with a bit of bullying in school for it. He'll still use it himself though when he's making jokes.

He does really care for Maru; he just hates to show it. Demetrius is still rotting in hell, but deep down he knows it's not Maru's fault. He takes a lot of inspiration from her inventions and has made a few models of them.

Sebastian gets along with Elliott surprisingly well. it mostly started over Elliott hearing him play keyboard and asking him about it, and from there they grew kind of close! They won't really hang out, but they talk at the saloon on Fridays, catching up on how the other is going.

Thanks to his unlikely friend, Seb listens to classical every now and then. Sam found out and has not let it go. The only reason they aren't being blackmailed into doing all his bidding is because Sam is so forgetful.

Sam is banned from Abigail's kitchen. Let's just say he set the toaster on fire, because that's exactly what happened. Abby walked in like "I smell something burning. Sam?" to see their friend freaking out trying to blow her toaster out like it was a birthday candle. He got a massive talking to after and isn't allowed within two feet of the kitchen tiles.

Sebastian has had multiple pet frogs. The kicker is nobody but him knows about them. When he was a kid, he took one home and put it in a cardboard box under his bed. It lived surprisingly well for being fed leftover dinner.

Seb is 25, and Maru is 21, so he spent very little time with his father. But the memories he holds of him are very strong. When he and Maru were little, they were a ride-or-die pair of siblings. They helped each other cheat on tests all the time. It's only when Demetrius found out and only got mad at Seb did a rift begin to form between them.

If Seb could have any other job, he would want to participate in motorsport races. I mean, he has a bike and he's Sebastian. You can't tell me he hasn't broken a few laws doing tricks.

He used to have a little thing for Sam when they first moved to the valley. He got over it pretty quick though and moved onto Abigail. But it was his "Ah shit, I'm gay" moment.

He has heterochromia. I mean this HC is mostly because his eyes don't match on his different sprites, but his right eye is green! It's usually covered by his hair, so people don't tend to notice.

One reason he hates the beach is because he got stung by a jellyfish. It hurt more than normal because he's extremely sensitive to pain. It wasn't that bad, but this HC is coming from someone who got 1 cm worth of stray jellyfish bits on the webbing between their fingers and cried. God bless the ocean.

Also, he's autistic, with a special interest in programming. This is coming from an autistic person, btw.

-~-~-

Tada! I hope you like these headcanons, anon. I worked hard on them. :) Also, thank you for being the first person to ask for a HC post!!

#sdv #stardew valley #sdv sebastian #stardew valley sebastian #stardew sebastian #sdv headcanons #sdv hcs #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley hcs #sdv ass squad #stardew valley ass squad #sdv sam #sdv abigail #stardew valley sam #stardew valley abigail #headcanon #ieatsmallorphansnamedtom

[neonganymede]

WIP Wednesday #10

The last tease before soukoku fluff week~!

A curiosity popped up in his head, and Dazai raised his chin so that he could speak without gnawing on ginger locks. “Hey, Chuuya? How did you manage to get home with time to spare?”

Chuuya stiffened, caught off guard by Dazai's inquiry. He gulped, quiet for a second before he tried to shrug the question away with an inconsequential roll of his shoulders. “The usual way,” he mumbled his answer more to Dazai’s collarbone than to Dazai himself. “It pissed me off that our anniversary got ruined, so I let loose a little.”

Dazai couldn’t hold in a laugh at the implications of that. He wondered how many survivors there had been, and then he laughed more, helpless against the vision his brain conjured immediately.

He could imagine the familiar sight easily: Chuuya fighting in a violent rage, furious that he'd needed to work late on such an important night, his tiny body burning with the vibrant glow of his gravity manipulation as he decimated his enemy as quickly as possible.

All so he could get home to Dazai while it was still their anniversary.

Chuuya’s shoulders hunched, and Dazai just knew that his face burned as brightly as his ability. “What’s so fucking funny? I’ll kick your ass too, you annoying mummy.”

“What a shame,” Dazai lamented, still snickering, “that I couldn’t be there to witness Chuuya letting loose. I’m sure it was quite a sight~!”

“Huh?” Perplexed, Chuuya lifted his head, and sure enough, his cheeks looked warm to the touch. Dazai couldn’t resist the urge to feel the heat of those freckles, so he drew his knuckles over his husband’s skin in a slow, tantalizing caress that only made Chuuya's blush deepen. “Why the hell would you want to be there?”

“Because~!” Dazai poked Chuuya’s nose for emphasis, affection rolling through him at the way his chibi's expression crinkled. “Chuuya’s hot when he’s angry.”

Chuuya blinked a few times, and his mouth twitched with an aborted grin. “I forgot that you’re into some weird shit.”

“In my defense, you’ve never seen yourself fight,” Dazai pointed out with a mild shrug.

Chuuya, scoffing, raised an eyebrow. He poked sharply at Dazai's chest, accusation and amusement coloring his reminder. “You made me sit through a fucking powerpoint presentation about it. I think I’ve seen enough.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about~"

#wip wednesday #bsd #soukoku #skk #fluff #married soukoku #inspired by The Look that Dazai gets on his face when he sees Chuuya in action #very sorry to the anon who wanted me to post this wip in poll format

[carbondioxda]

The damn snow.

Albedo x reader <33

c/w: lots of swearing!!, the reader is a girl, traveling through dragonspine, reader has a backstory and a cryo vision, experiments, mentions of the ginger, overall fluff and comfort

a/n: second fanfic, writing this at 2am sorry for typos or repetitions!! english isn’t my first language, so please tell me if I make any mistakes, I’ll be very thankful!

as I said in my previous post, the way I write dialogue might different than what you’re used to

She was sick of hearing the crunches her boots made in the thick snow. It was deafening at this point.

She felt hot inside, which made her wanna rip off her winter jacket, but somehow her joints were completely frozen.

,,I’m gonna loose my fucking fingers by the time I get there.” She thought to herself, knowing it was a plain lie, because it wasn’t her first time going through Dragonspine. And most certainly not the last.

Maybe it would’ve been easier if she had a pyro vision, instead of the currently useless cryo one. Everything in her life was about snow. Parents? Froze to death. Siblings? Froze to death. Homeland? The fucking cold-ass Snezhnaya. Herself? Froze to death as well, multiple times actually. Every single time she made her way to her spouse’s laboratory, to be more precise.

Despite her past expieriences she wasn’t afraid of the cold. She used to be, however now it’s just making her blood boil. Only hatred stayed.

They did have a small, cozy, warm, cute house in Mondstadt, but Albedo was stubborn on working in the most annoying fucking region known to man.

She looked up, ignoring the snowflakes on her eyelashes. Right, time for a hilichurl. Poor guy picked the wrong time to be on her way. He didn’t even have time to notice her, before her weapon went flying into him. She was waaaay too pissed off to even try to put effort into this fight, or any other thing at this point.

She flew over to his lab, using the wind glinder. It was a true wonder how it worked in that weather. She stood right next to the small fire right at the opening of the ,,cave”.

- Oh? You’ve arrived. - Albedo noticed, unfocusing on his work.

- No shit. - his beloved mumbled, still covered in snow and barely able to move. He must’ve noticed how much she hated going into his lab by now.

- You were pretty fast. Two minutes faster than usual. - the blonde pointed out, inviting her in.

- Furious too. - she stated, taking off her soaked jacket and taking out a few small boxes from her backpack. They weren’t in such horrible state as she was, thankfully. Albedo took out a few herbs from them, he needed them for his research. As she went further inside, a nice smell struck her nostril. He was cooking soup.

- I see. - he smiled. He wasn’t phased by her behaviour. The first time she had to come there was extreme though, he was afraid to even speak to her. - Those look more fresh than I anticipated.

- Childe gave me those this morning, when he arrived. He’s going on a worldwide trip again, I guess. - she said, now sitting next to the fire, regaining her ability to feel arms and legs. She spoke in a calm tone now, not wanting to let out her anger on the poor alchemist. Fingers are gonna take a hot while to come back.

- Do you know if he’s staying for long? - Albedo asked, multitasking. He was boiling some water and mixing liquids with the herbs, while still listening to what she had to say. She didn’t come all this way to just be ignored, after all. Honestly, he couldn’t ignore her even if he wanted.

- Not really. But not for long, if I had to guess. He never stays for longer than a week. I bet he’s gonna visit that one guy from Liyue next. - she rambled, staring into the fire. It was so comforting to finally rest.

- Drink this. - he requested, giving her a cup with a flowery-smelling tea. It had the same blue hue, as the herbs that she gave him.

- Is this made from the thing you asked me to get you from Snezhnaya? - she said puzzled. - Come on, I thought you needed this for research!

- I did. I saved some of it. Come on, drink up. It’s gonna make you feel better. You need more vitamins, don’t force me to make you come all the way up here every time I see you skip meals or eat junk. - he insisted. It did make a lot of sense. Whenever she was overworking herself or too lazy to keep a healthy diet, he’d make her come to Dragonspine and drink crazy teas, which were probably vitamin bombs.

- You…you realise you couldn’ve made me a tea at home, right? - she mouthed, slowly sipping on the hot drink.

- You forget about all of the things I make you in a span of 10 minutes. They all go cold. - he pointed out. He wasn’t mad, or said it in a venomous tone.

- Good point. - she responded bluntly, trying to forgive him for the torture he made her go through. - But you could’ve just reminded me!

- Also, I need to work. - he added quickly. He focused on his work again, meanwhile she started reading a book. Albedo gifted it to her some time ago.

She managed to finish her tea. Then, he put away all of the documents he had on his desk into a drawer. He did the same with some supplies, only left a few colorful vials untouched. The blonde made his way to the girl’s side. She was feeling warm now, but looking at the horrible weather outside made her want to cry. Albedo noticed it.

- We’ll head out tommorrow when it stops snowing so much. You did a great job going through that snowstorm, I honestly thought you’d stay home. - he said, sitting down.

- Nah. I decided to be productive. I wanted to see you. - she smiled at him. Finally, she was in a good mood. He took out two bowls and finally put the wonderful-smelling soup into them. God, they were starving. It was gone in a few minutes. Now, she was fed, tired and ready to sleep.

- I think I’m gonna take a nap.

- A nap? It’s nighttime anyway. Just go to sleep. - he giggled. He slowly got up and placed a small kiss on her forehead.

- Aren’t you gonna rest too? - she asked, seeing him get back to his desk.

- No need. I’ll get plenty of that when I die.

- You’re not gonna be doing that anytime soon. Lay down with me. - she begged. She saw him hesitate for a second.

- I still need to finish this. If I won’t, I’ll need to do it some other time and you’ll have to go through the whole Dragonspine just to see me again. - he tried to negotiate.

- I will.

- Don’t you hate the snow?

- I do hate it, yes. Not as much as I love you though. - she said, her words sounding like honey to him. He had to take a breath before he responded, trying to comperhend how she never had a filter.

- Got me there. - he said, coming back to her.

Now she’ll cuddle him to death.

#albedo x reader #genshin impact #x reader #reader insert #albedo #genshin impact x reader #fluff #dragonspine #swearing #harsh language #genshin cryo #cryo vision #snow #ao3 #wattpad

[polyklok]

This one was so much more detailed and I don’t know why-

Pickles “The” Drummer, physique/appearance

Nathan

Skwisgarr

Toki

Murderface

He got his name legally changed to the dumbest thing possible-

His age was actually a debate in the fandom during the early days, but that dwindled down greatly once a video of him was taken, drunk as all hell, yelling “I’M TWENTY-FUCKING-NINE YEARS OF OLD AND GODDAMN PROUD OF IT!” to a bartender asking for age identification. He’s 31 now. (By now, I mean like…10ish years ago, when the show was out)

5’4, short guy. Especially when compared to his band members. During shows, he started to wear heeled boots that make him 5’8. Still wears normal shoes most days, though. And still gets shit from the other guys for it.

Only 120 lbs. He’s generally pretty scrawny, although his biceps are nicely toned from years of going ham on the drums. Also has a bit of a beer gut, just a little squishy.

FtM, has been on T for a while and has gotten top surgery done. More headcanons regarding his gender journey later!

Let’s talk about his hair for a while-

No one in his family knows why his hair is…that color. Like, they have the ginger gene on his mom’s side. His mom and brother both have nice, brownish-red hair. But he came out with a head full of neON ORANGE HAIR. 

It’s very thick and frizzy. When it is in it’s natural state, its a pretty much a lion’s mane. Many people thought he looked like that on purpose during his Snakes ‘N Barrels days to fit in with the ‘glam rock’ fashion. But actually, he started playing glam rock because his hair looks like that.

As for facial hair, he’s very proud of it. It took a long time to grow out properly, so he takes really good care when maintaining it. (Ignore the fact that it’s a different color in the pic. That was my mistake.)

Cannot say the same for his skin. It’s very dry and sort of…leathery? He spends lots of time outside with absolutely no sunscreen, so my man has been BAKED (in more than one way ;))

Also from this, he’s very tan and freckled. It’s cute.

He has a tiny little button nose. Sometimes, he even twitches it like a rabbit. Literally so precious.

His lips are dry and cracked from years and years of smoking various substances. He prays to gods of burt’s bees chapstick.

Also, canon to the show, but he has a very goofy, crooked smile!

Doesn’t take that good of care for his dreadlocks. He spent so much of his life fussing over his hair, he’s honestly sick of it. He only goes to get them redone when they start to seriously stink.

To contrast Skwisgaar; I will say, he has the fattest ass in the band. Murderface is a close second. That is all.

He loves his piercings. Got his ears done when he was a teenager to piss off his parents, did his eyebrows later on. It’s seriously his favorite thing about himself, physically speaking.

He has all sorts of clothes, many of which he altered himself. From his muscle-tees, baggy jeans, leather pants, crop-tops, even a few skirts. He sticks to the same basic getup, but will shock both bandmates and fans occasionally by bringing out some seriously fabulous outfits.

In universe, there are several online accounts completely dedicated to him wearing feminine clothing. He single-handily brought back cheetah-print leggings.

He’s very talented at eye makeup. Doesn’t do it so much nowadays, but still enjoys a little bit of glittery eyeshadow. As a treat.

Call me weird, but I think I’m gonna include a…smell headcanon in all of these. Whatever.

Usually, he’ll smell like alcohol and weed. Sometimes vomit or piss as well. It’s the truth, hun.

But let’s not fool ourselves; he has a collection of very old, very fruity perfumes that he sprays on himself occasionally when he doesn’t feel like showering. Which is often. So he smells like whiskey, piss, and “cherry kiss dream”

Conclusion; he’s one of the few people on Earth who could acceptably wear low-rise jeans. He deserves it.

#metalocalypse #pickles the drummer #dethklok #metalocaypse headcanon #polyklok is real #dethklok headcanon #metalocalypse pickles