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stardustbarbarians · 7 months

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Dial Drunk

A Samuel Kiszka / Daniel Wagner fic

Tags: angst disguised as humor, drinking, getting arrested, sam-centric

Trigger Warnings: implied alcoholism

A/N: Hi guys I swear I'm alive. Good Omens just has me in a goddamn chokehold rn. Anyway, I recently became obsessed with Noah Kahan and so this is the result. Cover made by the incomparable @ofthecaravel (thank you, Karou <3). Title from Dial Drunk by Noah Kahan (once again, not required, but I highly encourage you listen to it). Enjoy!

Words: 4.5 k

+++

I'll dial drunk, I'll die a drunk, I'll die for you

Sam was sloshed. And wasn’t that just the understatement of the century. He’d stumbled into this bar after the other one had kicked him out yelling something about him needing to stop causing a ruckus. It didn’t matter.

What did matter was that the alcohol flowing through his veins was encouraging him to make the worst of decisions. His brain had long been soaked in tequila, taking close to ten plus shots over the course of the night.

“Another,” he slurred out, slamming his empty glass on the bar to alert the bartender. He realized that he couldn’t focus his eyes on the man and something in the back of his mind told him that was cause for concern. Another shot would shut it up.

“No, son. I’m cutting you off,” the bartender informed him sternly. At least, that’s what Sam thought he said.

“I don’ CARE. Gimme ANOTHER,” Sam yelled, slamming the empty glass so hard onto the bar that it made the ice inside fly out and onto the floor.

The bartender made for the glass, saying something about shattering it and getting Sam hurt. Sam, despite his sluggish brain, was able to yank it away and out of reach.

“NO!!”

The barman huffed and made another attempt at reaching for the glass Sam was holding. He pulled back even further to get out of the man’s reach only to find himself falling flat on his back onto the floor.

“Yeah, you’ve had enough,” the patron on Sam’s right had declared. She got up from her stool and plucked the glass from his hand, Sam too stunned to try and fight her.

The drunk slowly picked himself up off the floor, heavily relying on the arm the woman who took his glass offered. She was a burly woman, probably worked on the assembly line in the auto plant right down the road. She easily hoisted him up, Sam being about as heavy as a boiled noodle.

The young man slurred out what he thought was a thank you, but it came out as more of a “thaa-oo” than actual words.

Sam, still leaning on the woman without realizing it, locked eyes with the barman. “More.”

“No. You’re done. If you’d like me to pour you a glass of water, I’d be more than happy to.” The man lifted his chin up just a bit, crossing his arms over his chest.

It finally seemed to get through the sea of tequila that was Sam’s brain that he’d been cut off. Well, he understood that this gentleman was no longer serving him. And nothing as trivial as one person would stop him from getting what he wanted.

Finally, he pulled away from the woman he was leaning against and rounded the opening in the bar. Unfortunately for Sam, this particular barman had guessed that would be his next move the minute he formulated the plan in his mind. However, he wasn’t fast enough. Sam was able to round the bar, but ran right into the bartender. Sam was hardly fazed, making a reach for one of the bottles of tequila behind the man.

“If you don’t quit it, I will throw you out,” the bartender warned, pushing Sam’s arm down. He wouldn’t quit, trying to move past the annoying man to get his desired drink.

“C’mon, man!” Sam was rapidly becoming more frustrated, his attempts becoming increasingly more violent. He eventually planted both of his palms onto the man’s chest and shoved him back. He stumbled a step or two but was able to recover, using his forearm to pin Sam against the bar. It hurt as it pressed into the small of his back, his arms attempting to shove the unwanted touch off of him.

“Call 911 and tell them we’ve got a reckless drunk here,” the bartender ordered, looking at the woman who helped Sam to his feet. Sam was vaguely aware that his end goal was coming to fruition, but he was too preoccupied with screaming at the bartender to “get off me” and shoving his arm off.

It was within the blink of an eye that Sam was being yanked from his shirt off the bar. He came face to face with the man he recognized as the bouncer.

“Get a grip, man,” his deep voice growled out. Sam, whose brain was long past thinking through his actions, did probably the stupidest thing he could’ve.

“Get OFF!!” he roared before rearing back and punching the man in the face. He stumbled back a few steps, nursing his jaw. But most importantly, he released the grip he held on Sam’s shirt.

He took the opportunity and bolted for the door. Unfortunately for Sam, other patrons in the bar had begun to take notice of the massive disturbance he was causing. As he made for the exit, about four people took action and tackled him to the ground. He attempted fighting back, only to find himself completely pinned to the floor.

“Take him outside,” the bouncer ordered from somewhere behind Sam. He felt hands strongly grasp him by the shoulders and pinning his hands behind him as he was marched out the front door. He tried to thrash against the hold on him, but it was no use. He was completely restrained. When they reached it, Sam was pushed forward out the swinging door.

“Thanks, guys. I’ve got it from here,” the bouncer announced. The hands left his arms and shoulders. However, he wasn’t able to make an escape like he wished. Instead, he felt a tight grip on his shirt from behind him. He wasn’t getting anywhere.

Sam was forcefully sat down on the curb, that hand on his shirt never leaving. He attempted running a few times, but each time he was yanked back violently. After the third time, he’d given up when he scraped his elbow on the rain-slick concrete. Since when did he get woozy at the sight of blood?

“You ain’t going nowhere until the cops take you away for punching me, you son of a bitch,” the bouncer spat, using the hold on Sam to yank him back once more. He sat on the curb, the cold of the rain sinking through the thin material of his shirt and seeping into his skin. He had to keep wiping the rain off his face, droplets trickling down his skin. His breath ghosted out of his mouth with each exhale, a chill long since setting into his bones.

It wasn’t long until Sam saw the lights in the distance, the wailing of the sirens following quickly after. The cruiser with “sheriff” painted along the door pulled up right next to the entrance, an officer stepping out a moment later. That’s when the reality of the situation sunk in for him.

When he finally looked up into the face of the policeman - having difficulty with the bright lights burning his retinas - Sam groaned. Could his luck have been any worse?

“Samuel,” the officer greeted, a cold amusement in his tone. He had his arms crossed over his chest, a corner of his mouth twitched upwards. It was hard to see behind his large mustache, but right as rain, it was there.

“Deputy Russell,” Sam grumbled, a pained look on his face.

“How come when we got the call for a drunk and disorderly I knew you’d be the one waiting for me at the bar?” Deputy Russell towered over Sam from his involuntary seat on the curb, the latter having to crane his neck in order to look at him.

Sam buried his head in his hands, groaning loudly. He felt like a scolded toddler after breaking a window. Except, this was significantly worse.

“I don’t know. Maybe you’ve just got a crush on me, Alexander,” Sam managed to say relatively comprehensively. He even managed a pretty charming smile.

That earned him a laugh from the policeman, albeit a small one. Still, it gave Sam hope that he’d go easy on him.

“You’re not my type, Sam,” Russell lightly commented, his attention turning away from him to the bouncer, “Alright, tell me what he did this time.” He produced a small flipbook and pen from his brown rain jacket that had light brown piping along the arms and his badge embroidered onto the left breast pocket.

The bouncer launched into a lengthy account of the events of the night; how Sam became increasingly violent as people tried to stop him. He became a lot more animated when he got to the part where Sam socked him.

“...And that’s when we dragged his sorry, skinny ass outside. He tried making a break for it a few times, but he never got away,” the bouncer finished, his hand never leaving Sam’s shirt. It was probably going to be permanently stretched at that point. That’s not even mentioning the crimson staining the fabric from the injury on his elbow. Pity, Sam liked this shirt.

With a sigh, Deputy Russell finished taking his notes on the bouncer’s story. “Did he manage to hit anyone else?”

“You’d have to ask Jerry about that one. I only intervened when he went behind the bar,” the bouncer answered.

There was a deep-seated look of disappointment that had crept onto his face as the bouncer went further and further into his account of the night. The deputy scribbled something else down on his paper before flipping it closed.

“Arlight, Sam. You know the drill,” the deputy sighed in a resigned tone as he removed the cuffs from his belt.

He knew this part was coming. It was what he was hoping for.

“Breaking out the cuffs tonight? Awww, Alexander, what’s the occasion?” Sam teased. He rose up from his spot on the curb; or, at least, he tried to. The bouncer still had his hand fisted in Sam’s shirt and he ended up nearly falling onto his face if it weren’t for Deputy Russell’s lightning-fast reflex to grab Sam by the shoulders.

“You’ve proven that you can’t be trusted,” Russell grunted, righting Sam on his feet before twirling him around.

The metal of the cuffs was cold as they dug into the skin of his wrists. It didn’t help the chill that had nestled into his bones at all. The noise as they snapped into place was a unique one - a cross between a snap and a creak - and one that was not unfamiliar to Sam.

“Hope you rot in that cell,” the bouncer spat as he watched the young man get loaded into the back of the patrol car.

“And that shiner looks real cute on you. I can give you another one as soon as I’m out, sweetheart!”

“I didn’t hear that,” Deputy Russell firmly stated, accentuating his point with the slam of the car door. It wasn’t that he was trying to get Sam out of trouble, he just didn’t want to add another charge atop his mountains of assault paperwork he would have to file in the incident report.

+++

“Samuel Kiszka… I should’ve known it was you,” someone drawled from within the precinct. Sam knew that voice all too well.

“You owe me a twenty, Alice,” Deputy Russell yelled as he hauled Sam inside.

Sheriff Alice Langston was the best Sheriff the county had seen since 1967. She wasn’t a strict by-the-book woman, but knew when someone deserved some leeway and when they deserved the wrath of God. She was in her mid fifties, gray streaking her black hair that was always pulled back into a very professional bun. Smile lines had creased themselves besides her dark brown eyes along with the ridges in her forehead.

“You thought someone else was being an annoying drunk?? Alice, I am deeply hurt…” Sam joked, his face pulling into a look of fake offense. He was rather good at acting and perhaps in another life he would’ve pursued a life on the stage rather than attempting to break the local record of most arrests before 30 years of age.

“What can I say, I’m an optimist,” she replied to Sam before turning to her deputy, “what did he do this time?”

“The usual. Drank himself stupid until someone tried to stop him and got violent,” Deputy Russell recounted, a wariness in his voice that came with months of dealing with Sam’s tiring behavior.

Sheriff Langston put her hands on her hips and shook her head. A sigh that originated deep within her bones escaped her lips. “When is this going to stop, Sam?”

Sam just shrugged his shoulders. “When I’m dead, perhaps.”

The sheriff placed a hand on her forehead, her fingers rubbing at her temples. Sam knew how much of a pain he was to the local law enforcement and underneath all of his heartache, Sam was sorry for it. But, it was the only way he could have a valid excuse for calling him. So he wasn’t going to stop until Sam finally got his ex back.

“Lock him up,” Sheriff Langston ordered her deputy with a sigh.

“Wait, wait. Don’t I get my phone call first?” Sam frantically asked, his head whipping around back and forth in order to try and get a better look at Deputy Russell who was behind him. It made his head spin even more and increased his feeling of nausea, his stomach churning aggressively and making Sam want to keel over.

“Not this time, I’m afraid,” Langston informed as she made her way to her office.

“That’s not fair!! I want my one call!” Sam screamed, attempting to wriggle away from the deputy’s grasp on his arms. It wasn’t as effective as he hoped given the fact that he could hardly walk unassisted and was about one sharp movement away from vomiting all over the carpet of the precinct… again.

“And I want a million dollars. We don’t all get what we want, Kiszka,” Deputy Russell grunted as he moved Sam towards the holding cells.

Sam was uncuffed before he was pushed into a holding cell, the door slamming behind him with a resounding finality. It echoed off the walls of the holding area, making the pounding in Sam’s head worsen.

“Can I at least get a towel or something?? I’m gonna die of hypothermia at this rate,” Sam pleaded, his hands wrapped around the bars and pressing his face in the space between them.

With an eye roll dramatic enough to win him a Tony award, Deputy Russell turned on his heel and disappeared out of the hold cell area and down a hallway that Sam had never been down. A few minutes later, he reappeared with a beach towel in his hand.

“Thank y-” his gratitude was cut short with the towel being thrown in his face. Sam, in his drunken state, fumbled the folded cloth for a moment before he secured it in his hands. He was just thankful he managed to grab it before it touched the floor. He knew firsthand how fucking disgusting the floors of these cells were. And considering his shoes were sticking to the floor, he’d rather not let the thing he wanted to wipe his face with touch it.

He unfolded it without ceremony. He had to laugh at the fact that Ariel was featured prominently on it. The towel was probably one that came from Russell’s personal locker, one he probably took from home. He had a daughter who was now in her teens; Sam had seen pictures and heard stories from Russell about her. Sweet kid. Brilliant.

Sam threw the towel over his head and began scrubbing his hair, the droplets dripping off the strands and down the skin of his face and back had been driving him crazy since he was thrown in the patrol car. Next he patted his body down, knowing it was nearly futile as he was soaked to the bone. Once he was done with that, he threw his hair up into a towel tie, thankful the wretched stuff was off his neck. He liked how long his hair had grown - to the middle of his back - but it was certainly a pain to maintain.

“So. Just us again, huh?” Sam asked Deputy Russell after he’d finished toweling off.

“Yes, considering god hates me,” the officer grumbled under his breath.

“Awww, I’m not that bad."

The glare that the deputy threw at him was deadly. Maybe he wasn’t as much of a loveable nuisance as he’d thought.

“Tell you what. I’ll cut you a deal,” Sam began, his hands back around the bars as he got as close to the deputy as his enclosure would allow him.

“Because you’re in a position to negotiate,” Russell laughed, the sound bordering humorless. He’d taken his hat and rain jacket off at that point. One of his hands had come up to his face to fiddle with his mustache, a habit he tended to enact while he was idle.

“You give me my phone call and I’ll keep my mouth shut for the rest of the night,” Sam continued, ignoring the deputy’s comment.

“Not happening, Sam.” Deputy Russell’s voice was stern, the words a finality.

“I’ll praise the flag-”

“Nope.”

“I’ll kiss your badge-”

“No.”

“I’ll change my fucking faith-”

“Nice try.”

“Man, why?? Why the hell won’t you let me call anybody??” Sam whined, going so far as to stomp his foot like a toddler throwing a tantrum. Though, to be fair to the toddlers, they sounded far more mature than Sam just had.

“Because,” the deputy began slowly, his patience already wearing thin, “Sheriff Langston said so.”

With another frustrated stomp of his foot, Sam groaned petulantly. It wasn’t fair! He always got his phone call and all of the sudden they just cut him off??

“That’s not a valid reason and you know it, Alex!”

“It is fair.”

“How?? ‘Because I said so’ is the answer you give to a child!”

“Well,” the deputy leaned forward in his chair, hands clasped together as he rested his elbows on his knees, “maybe if you started to act like an adult, I’ll treat you like one.”

Sam groaned in frustration, hitting his head on one of the bars in front of him.

“You know I’m just going to keep asking until I get what I want.” It was very much a threat thinly veiled as a promise.

“Oh, I know.” The deputy turned his attention away from his prisoner and onto a book he just pulled out of one of the desk drawers. Sam only got a glimpse of the cover and in his drunken state it took him a lot longer to process the two word title: Good Omens.

Well, if Sam was anything, he was a man of his word.

Taking a deep breath, Sam began singing. “Baby shark, doo-doo-do-doo-doo-doo…”

This went on for about twenty minutes - Sam singing Baby Shark on loop - and he had to admit he was impressed. The deputy had put up a pretty good resistance, but Sam was nothing if not a stubborn bastard.

“FINE!! YOU WIN!!” Russell yelled, his hands unclamping from his ears to ball into fists onto the desk.

Sam ceased his singing, a victorious smile spreading across his lips. It didn’t fall in the slightest as he was yanked out of the cell and put back in handcuffs.

The deputy maneuvered the criminal towards the payphone that hung on the far wall of the precinct. It was an ancient thing, probably having not been replaced since the mid 70s. There were marks all over it in multiple colors of Sharpie, more than a few of them cursing out the police. Gouges and scratches littered the once proud, shiny, black plastic. A seat was placed just to the left of it, equally as trashed as the payphone itself.

Before Sam was set down in the seat, Deputy Russell removed a cuff off one of Sam’s wrists before moving his arms from behind his back to in front of him. He then snapped the cuff onto the arm of the chair after Sam sat in the dirty and ripped upholstery.

With his hand not holding the receiver, Russell snagged a quarter off one of the nearby desks and slid it into the coin slot. His finger poised to enter the number into the rotary.

“Who am I calling,” the officer tiredly asked, his head turning towards Sam as he brought the receiver to his ear.

“Daniel Jean Louise Marie Wagner, please and thank you,” Sammy answered, flashing a superficially sweet smile at the deputy.

“I don’t even know why I asked,” Alexander Russell muttered under his breath. He didn’t even need to access a computer to enter the number, having it memorized just from the sheer amount of times Sam has made Daniel his emergency phone call.

When it began ringing, he handed the phone off to Sam. He went to grab it with his cuffed hand at first, then made the quick adjustment to reach with his free hand.

It rang for a lot longer than Sam had hoped. He just about gave up and believed that it would go to voicemail when the line went quiet… then a brief amount of rustling on the other end.

“....Hello?” a bleary voice croaked out; Daniel’s voice.

“Daniel! Danny, baby, so uh… yeah…”

Sam hadn’t thought Daniel would actually respond so he had no idea what to say.

“Right, so I’m at the county lockup and-”

“Oh, for FUCKS-”

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

Crestfallen, Sam slowly let the phone drop from his ear. His mouth fell agape as he felt his hand fall into his lap. He couldn’t believe it. After all that…

“What happened?” Russell asked, his stern demeanor softening slightly at the sight of his favorite troublemaker so dejected.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. Well, there was a sound, but it sounded like if you scuffed your shoe against a hardwood floor. So hardly word material.

“Did he hang up on you?”

All Sam could do was nod. He finally snapped his mouth shut, forcing himself to act like a human again. He slammed the receiver back onto its hook so hard it caused the bell inside the phone to jingle.

“Damn. That’s… That’s wrong. Son, why do you do this to yourself?”

It was a good question. Why did he continue to ruin his life for a man who clearly wanted nothing to do with him?

Sam didn’t respond. He just sullenly gazed down at the wretched linoleum as if it were to blame for Sam’s pathetic love life. Stupid fucking tile floor.

“Well, I can’t let you stay there. Let’s get you up.” Russell didn’t even bother to put the cuffs back on Sam. He knew the kid was too broken to try anything, not to mention stumbling drunk.

When Sam was back in his holding cell, all he did was sulk. He laid down on the uncomfortable and scratchy cot that was stuffed into the corner with his back against the wall. He wanted to get some rest, but every time he closed his eyes it felt like he was in a washing machine with the spin cycle on high. So he just let his head rest against the wall and stared up at the ceiling.

Deputy Russell made a few attempts at conversation, but Sam would only respond in these two word sentences. He wasn’t in the mood, frankly. He felt like an ass, but that happened more often than not these days. The pain would metastasize when the sun would peek over the horizon, leech into all of his bones and burn inside him with glowing shame and embarrassment for his actions the past night.

But that’s tomorrow.

Tonight was reserved for wallowing in his self pity and-

“Samuel?” It wasn’t Russell that asked, but Alice Langston.

The man in question snapped his eyes open and whipped his head forward. He moved too fast, his stomach churning and making him have to press his hand into it to keep the nausea at bay.

“Yeah,” he weakly responded, his eyes pinching shut to stop the room from spinning.

The cell door opened. That made Sam crack his eyes open.

Staring back at him with a rage and fury that could rival only the wrath of God Herself was none other than the man he wanted to see most in the entire world.

“Daniel,” Sam sighed, a smile spreading so wide across his face that he started to feel his cheeks hurt.

The frown on Danny’s face deepened and that’s when Sam noticed the dark bruises underneath his sunken eyes. He hadn’t slept. Or, rather, he had slept, but it was interrupted. The scowl on his face aged him about five years. Or maybe it had just been so long since the last time he’d seen Daniel. He wore a pair of ratty gray sweats, a maize and blue sweatshirt he got from his alma mater. He also had on a black rain jacket that was covered in droplets, grass sticking to his converse. So, it was still raining. That was also evident by the few strands of his curls that stuck to his forehead that had fallen out of the bun he had hastily thrown up. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, his shoulders tensed as his eyes bore into Sam’s very soul.

He’d never seen a more gorgeous sight in his whole life.

“You’re here.”

Daniel didn’t speak, just glared at him before turning on his heel and walking towards the front door. Sam, dumbfounded and a bit star struck, swung his gaze back and forth between the two officers of the law standing at the door to his cell.

“Your bond has been paid; you’re free to leave,” Langston informed him. Her voice was soft - well, soft for her.

Sam’s smile somehow brightened, doing the impossible. He jumped off the cot (having to rest his hand against the wall for a second to let his vision stop spinning) and followed after Danny.

“Daniel, wait,” he called as he tried his best to run after Danny, the guy having the advantage of both sobriety and longer legs. Damn him and his nice legs.

The man halted in his spot, his back ram-rod straight. Sam was close enough to hear the heavy sigh he let out as he did stop.

“Why did you… What are you doing here?”

Danny swiveled his head towards Sam, that death glare probably permanently fixed in Daniel's eyes as they beheld Sam. It made Sam stagger back a few steps, swallow down any words he might’ve had on his tongue.

“You will keep your mouth shut for the rest of the night, you understand me?” Daniel’s voice was cold, his finger pointed at Sam with an intense look fixed towards him.

Sam gulped. There was a mix of several emotions swirling around inside him that he was far too drunk to parse out. Despite that, he nodded his head and flashed a nervous smile.

As he turned away and made for the door, Sam swore he saw Danny’s face soften for a fraction of a second. It was enough.

For the rest of the ride, Sam couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. Daniel would act cold towards him all he’d like, but his actions spoke volumes louder than the message he was trying to convey to Sam.

It was a start. And that was enough for Sam.

+++

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#greta van fleet #greta van fic #danny wagner #sam kiszka #daniel robert wagner #samuel francis kiszka #danny gvf #sammy gvf #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #josh gvf #jake gvf #sanny gvf #sam x Daniel

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fandomwe1rd0 · 16 days

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I love rereading Ouran, it makes me cry, and the characters are SO complex and likable, and tamaharu is literally one of my favorite if not my favorite fictional couples ever, they are so cute and even their dynamic as just friends is amazing, it's just comedy gold, and as romantic? Even better! They love each other so much, I love my awkward precious babies, and after watching so much Rick and Morty, it's nice to be reminded of what a healthy relationship is, also the way they navigate Hikaru and Karou's codependency is SO gripping! Seeing them break free from it is just endlessly interesting to see and I'm proud of both of them for being able to do it! I love Ouran so much, what? I am not foaming at the mouth shut up, why are you running away?

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #rick c137 #rick #and #morty #ouran host club #ouran high school host club #tamaki suoh #Haruhi Fujioka #hikaru hitachiin #karou hitachiin #tamaharu #ouran highschool host club #ouran #ouran hshc

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giggly-squiggily · 1 year

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oh i love this event! 😍

i have a headcannon for sk8 the infinity if it's okay? i think when kojiro and kaoru were teenagers they used to have movie nights and kojiro always cried but kaoru never did, so kojiro ended up wrecking him every time because he found it quote unquote "unfair" that he was the only one crying 😅

i hope you're doing great!

- 🐼non

MY GUYS!!! I love this oh my god akljrekajrkjaejk This was really fun to write! I've gotcha covered, panda!

“Well, that was something…are you crying?”

“N-No. Shut up!” Kojiro looked away, wiping at his face harshly to hide his tears.

“Heh, seems like some things haven’t changed.” Karou laughed softly, noting all the balled up tissues around his boyfriend. “You’ve always so quick to tears when it comes to movies.”

“Oh shut up- it’s not like you didn’t tear up during the opening of UP!” Kojiro threw one of his tissues at the other, making Karou reel back in disgust. “Besides, you’re partially to blame; you picked this movie!”

“True. But come now, Kojiro- it’s the Little Engine That Could.” The pink haired man knocked away the offending tissue, shaking his head. “Did him getting up that hill really get you that bad?”

“Yes!” Kojiro, who had managed to pull himself together, got to work cleaning up his mess. “And the part where everyone cheered and was proud of them- come on; you know that was a sweet scene!”

“Sweet, yes, but not tear-worthy.” Karou couldn’t help but smile at his husband, equal parts amused and endeared. He reached for the remote resting on the table when fingers jabbed his side, making him spasm. “Gah! Kojiro!”

“Speaking of sweet- I just remembered something from our last movie night.” The green haired man grinned, closing the distance with ease as he loomed over Karou. “I tickled you until you until you were as teary eyed as me. Think that’s changed?”

“Of course it has- I’m not ticklish-Ah! Ahehahahhhahhahhaha!” Karou arched when Kojiro’s hands found his belly, scribbling relentlessly against the thin material of his t-shirt. “Yohohohhoohhou dahahhahahamn ahahahahhape, gehehhehehet ohoohohoohohff!”

“Aww, what’s the matter? Does it still tickle?” Kojiro cooed, his other hand coming in to squeeze his side, pinching and massaging- making the pink haired man below him squeal. “I thought you weren’t ticklish anymore? Liars get got, babe~”

“Shuhuhuhuhuht your trap, you crihihihihiihihybahahahhahaby!”

“Crybaby? Oh now you’re really gonna get it!” Kojiro reached back, wasting no time squeezing his husband’s thighs. “Who’s a crybaby?”

“GEHAHHAHAHA! NOHOHOHOT YOU! NOHOHOHOT YOU KO PLEHAHAHHAHAHSE!”

“That’s what I thought!” Kojiro grinned, releasing the other as he watched Karou gasp for breath, tears of mirth dotting his eyes. “Come now, Karou- surely that wasn’t tear-worthy, was it?”

He got a twisted pinch to the nipple in response.

Worth it.

Send me a headcanon and character(s) and I'll write a short 300-500 word dabble for it!

#headcanons to dabbles #tickle #tickle dabble #sk8 #kojiro nanjo #karou sakurayashiki #joe #cherry #matchablossom #they are in love your honor #🐼 anon

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mrikq · 1 year

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shie hasaikai take care of overhuals baby

How you think they would act with child? No new born maybe a toddler? Or older.

Kaoru is son of kai and tomura (yeah I ship them, shut up.) his quirk is both of his parents left side tomura right kai. Almost every hc is for 5 years old, but not every.

Kaoru look: he has red eyes lighter then tomura. His hair are brown and curly(after kai mom) he look just like tomura but he have kai stare. Sometimes 8 bullets are scare about that. Kai no comment that and tomura think is cute. he have round face and I think is soo cute. His perosnality is 78%tomura 7%kai and 15% his own.

1.shin nemoto

°he offen take care of kaoru when he was baby he loved shin so much, he even call him "dada". Shin thought he is so dead in overhual eyes. Overhual was furiours about that, but tomura calm him.

° When karou is 5 he spend less time with shin but still do.

°he love go under his cape ,when kaoru was baby he loved crawls on neomot cape and pull it.

°Kaoeu love play shin glasses

°Nemoto always try be best afront kaoru beacuse he don't want upset overhual. He still love that child.

2.setsuno toya

°He and shin is fav uncles.

°Setsuno is the fun one he always make joke for kaoru and even play with him.

°Kaoru don't need to ask about it(setsuno secretly love play childish toys, and play with kaoru is just cover for that).

°He don't grab kaoru to hand when he was baby beacuse he was too scare to hurt him. Tomura always say its nothing to be scare but toya still refuse, but he still make funny faces to kaoru.

° When kaoru was little he call setsuno "sese" that was his 3th word.

°of course he don't perfect one time when kaoru was 4 setsuno put his vape(yes his vape he don't smoke cigarrets and his fav flavor is grape) kaoru thought its something to drink. So he grab that, he puffed and he start cough. Tengai hear that and saw what happen. He was soo mad on toya for that.

°he play rap when they drive car and he always tell kaoru to not say about this to none(Tomura also do this my hc is tomura is huge fan of eminem, afroman and 2pac)

3.rappa

Yeah... They don't like eachother, kaoru mostly, beacuse rappa is mean to Shigaraki. Rappa is to tough for ours little muffin,Tengai always admonishes rappa for that. One time he make ugly bruise on the side of the abdomen then kaoru broke two rappas hand and say he don't cure them and rappa was so pist of he tell about that tomura but tomura says he is of kaoru side in this beacuse is his fault and he was mad too obviously beacuse he punch his baby. (that happen when kaoru was 13 years) (tomura is overcare of kaoru, he don't show this but he still think about it and care) overhaul was on a business trip so rappa must wait 2 weeks for overhual back to yakuza and help him.

4.hojo yuyu

°Hojo is fav uncle number 3.

°Kaoru loved be in his hand.

° He also loved touch his bald head, that was hillarious.

°A couple times Some were afraid of his look or tell not nice stuff about him. Kaoru was mad about this and that They had to listen to the rebuke from a 5-year-old .

°He love uncle hojo and none can talk shit about him.

°Hojo always said that was not neccesery, but he still appreciated how kaoru think good about him.

°He fell better wit someone like that.

°Hojo teach some fun stuff kaoru and after that kaoru always tell everyone what he teached and with proud sayed that was from hojo.

5. Deidaro sakaki

°He don't good at kids.

°Kaoru never was babysitting be him, but still like watch drunk deidaro and he laught of that.

°Also deidaro teach something kaoru, but that was inappropriate and kaoru know what is slut in his 4 and blowjob when he was 7 and all other stuff.

°When someone doesn't want tell kaoru about something beacuse this was not comfort subject and they tell "he get that when he grown up'' he now he must go to deidaro give him some beer and he gonna know.

°When his parents one time hear deidaro explaim what is anal sex to they 6 son they was so fourious and kaoru had Prohibition of talking to deidaro.

° Also fun fact is deidaro never know how old is kaoru

6.tengai

°Tengai care of kaoru and show him how nature and peace are beatifull and important.

°Kaoru also like try make tengai open eyes or make smile of his face.

°Tengai always caoutius other memeber to watch of they language when kaoru is in room, even when kaoru is 15, tengai still do it.

7.tabe

°they don't spend a lot of time. Always they with someone mostly with setsuno.

°when he try feed kaoru and show him how tasty is baby food he eat food and spoon, kaoeu loved that and start laught

°beacuse of that tabe start like eat baby food and always finishing it for kaoru.

°kaoru love look in tabe mouth but tabe was scare and refuse to do that, he don't want bite him.

8.katsume

°can't hold kaoru untill he was 8 months for his security.(overhual think its still too early)

°but when he arledy take first time kaoru in hand he was soo happy he start stamping and sayed"o yey! o yey! " everyone start calm him down.

°he was in shock how kaoru is tiny in his hand and love touch his cheeks by his fingers.

°he still like hug kaoru really hard one times almost katsume crash his ribs.

°Katsume always is so upset and say sorry 100× when he do something to kaoru.

9.mimic

°they don't like eachother. Kaoru hate him.

°mimic always say what kaoru do wrong

°kaoru hate scriming so aoutoamic he don't like mimic

°one time kaoru kick mimic like rugby ball he take that from Tomura, shigaraki also don't likes with mimic.

°they always argue.

°mimic alwyas critical kaoru about what he do. Kai always pick mimic site this piss off kaoru.

°but when someone do something wrong with kaoru or is mean Mimic will scream about that and help kaoru.

10.Hari kurono(chrono)

°At start hari wasn't be good think about baby in yakuza but he don't say anything about this to Chisaki.

°he like kaoru, but don't love.

°He talk with him or do something with him only when overhual tell him to do this.

°everyone thought hari would be the cloest to baby, but no. They was in shock.

°He teach kaoru about shooting.

Kaoru also loved climb on katsume and hojo and sometimes on rappa.

#shigahaul #Bnah next gen #shie hassaikai #Overhual #8Bullets #shigaraki tomura #bnha headcannons #chishig #mha chronostasis #yakuza #babysitting #Omega!shigaraki

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majimassqueaktoy · 1 year

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Majima's face when Karou tells him to shut up

#if he wasnt leaking blood from all those wounds his dick woulda been hard #lmaooo

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ofthecaravel · 23 days

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jake piece tonight

#can i get a hooyah #myart #shut up karou

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driftward · 1 year

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Title: All I Want For Starlight is You Characters: Nyx Blackmoon, Klynt Gohtawyn Rating: Teen Summary: Nyx would like some company this holiday season. Notes: None

It is the decree of the Imperial Office of Culture that the Garlean celebration of the midwinter's feast, which takes place on the shortest day, is suitable for celebration for citizen and colonial residents alike, despite similar events recognized in uncivilized lands. Local Tribuni are encouraged to determine which customs are suitable for their region, and report back their decrees to the Office of Culture. Long live the Empire.

-*-

Perhaps years in the past, or in the years yet to come...

-*-

Klynt was among those who woke up early in the morn.

Well, 'woke up' was perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, but she was one of the first ones to be moving in the morning, owing to a life lived aboard pirate vessels, and more recently, perhaps due to the tendency of one Zoissette Vauban to be awake and quite active at an early hour.

However, Zoissette was not around this morn, nor was much of her usual company. The Starlight season was upon Eorzea, and many of her comrades had made their plans and set out on their way, to visit home and family, leaving her and a scant skeleton crew to hold down the fort.

This suited her fine, as she had little affection for the holiday. A pirate's life did not lend itself to such, and Limsans were hardly a formally devout sort, instead living life freely and developing loose collections of beliefs and superstitions, each fit to each person for them alone. Zoissette was probably off praying to some saint or another, and each of her other coworkers had their own affairs to look after and beliefs to tend to. Such was not for her.

And so, she made her way to the kitchen, barely aware of her surrounds as she began to make her morning coffee.

She felt, more than she heard, a gentle presence approach from behind her. She ignored it, focusing on watching the hot water as she poured it over finely ground beans.

"Gohtawyn. Good morning."

"Blackmoon. Morn," mumbled Klynt.

"Do you have plans for breakfast?"

Klynt scowled, wincing an eye shut as she looked into her coffee cup, now full.

"No. Should I?"

"No. Are there any activities or rituals you observe for the Starlight season?"

"...no. Should I?"

"No. If you do not mind, and you have the patience, I would like to prepare a breakfast for you appropriate for the season, in keeping with traditions I am familiar with."

Klynt grunted. "...do I get to keep my coffee?"

"Yes. Though if I may, I would like to see it for a moment."

Klynt arched an eyebrow, and frowned over at the Miqo'te shaped person. However, after a moment, she begrudgingly handed her mug over to Nyx.

Nyx took it, and set it down on the counter, and began to rapidly reach for a variety of spices, pouring them in various amounts into the coffee. Klynt was not awake enough to watch them very carefully, and she generally trusted Nyx.

She did protest, however, when she saw Nyx put two spoonfuls of milk into it.

"Hey, what're you doing?"

Nyx just looked up at her, and after a moment, handed the coffee back.

Klynt looked at it, dubious, but then took a sip. The coffee was spiced, now, with a mixture of flavors she did not recognize, and a smooth creaminess she did not expect.

It was... good.

She glowered at it, then nodded, and headed off to the breakfast area. Behind her, she heard Nyx get to work in the kitchen.

-*-

Kyb mal Donos set the declaration down, and looked at his assembled team.

"So does that mean...? asked Miki kir Karou tentatively, carefully.

Datum lux Lorimus shrugged. "Cato cares little what we do in his absence. He has chosen to take the solstice with his family. So long as we do not gain the attention of the local Legatus, I suspect we'll be fine. Keep your traditions, but keep them -quietly-, and I won't say a word."

Liana kir Vaux looked thoughtful. "A feast, then, for the beginning of Starlight."

Papanan turned to Liana, and raised a finger in the air. "And how do you propose we prepare such a thing? I doubt a one of you know how to properly prepare dodo tenderloin, and I shall not carry the burden of preparing the rest of the meal alone, thank you very much."

Liana crossed her arms. "Is that what passes for a fitting meal in your home? I would choose a wide array of common vegetables, filling and pleasing. And if you are not up to the culinary challenge of tending to the cohort-"

Miki waved his hands in the air, attempting to soothe them both before the conversation before it got out of hand. "Please, my friends, there is no need to fight. In this, a compromise is easy. Many hands shall make light work. And being as we all hail from different places, perhaps we shall each prepare a singular item of our choosing, and create a harmonious whole that may not otherwise be achieved. And being as we have much work ahead of us, might I suggest that we begin with breaking our fast upon the first day, followed by..."

Miki explained his intentions, and the others saw the wisdom of his plan, and were quick to agree. While some argument occurred around the preparation of a main dish, the rest of the discussion went quickly.

Nyx watched, and listened, silently.

-*-

Klynt was barely awake in the breakfast area, enjoying her coffee, when Nyx came out with several plates, each of them heaping with food. She near boggled as each of them were set down in front of her.

Dodo tenderloin, seared to perfection. Some sort of sautéed sauce made of some kind of orange fruit. Thin slices of, if she had to guess, a truly large radish. Mashed popotoes, with little bits of green in them - onion most like, or perhaps laurel, or, well, she stopped trying to guess. Strips of what she suspected was pork belly, heavily salted and fried. Some kind of squash, cut into thin stripes and cooked in some manner she was not familiar with. Scrambled eggs, because of course scrambled eggs, why wouldn't there be. And other food besides.

All in all, while any individual item seemed like it could be a delight, the entire plate was a mess of foods.

"Nyx," said Klynt, slowly, carefully, "The hells is this?"

"First breakfast," said Nyx, as she set a similar plate down in front of themselves and began to eat in their way, rapidly yet carefully, as though the plate was an enemy to be attacked with precision munitions and worn down through rapid attrition.

Klynt scowled, and picked up a utensil, and tried her own food.

Well. As she might've guessed. The arrangement may have looked more like an accident of whatever was available in the cabinet rather than any sort of planned meal, but Nyx was a uniquely capable culinarian. The food was delicious, and filling, and Klynt felt herself waking up as she ate her meal.

"Gohtawyn. Are you generally available for the day?"

"...sure. Don't got much going on, and most everyone's gone. Can't stray too far though. We're needed in case some emergency or another happens."

"I understand and agree. We will not need to go very far, but there is some work I would like to get done today. I would like your help with it. In addition, I would appreciate your aesthetic input."

Klynt frowned at Nyx. Nyx was usually so quiet in the mornings, content to hang around in the rafters, responding when called upon, or leaving to go do her own things, whatever they happened to be.

"Whatever are you up to, Nyx."

Nyx told her.

-*-

"We'll need a tree," said Liana, thoughtfully.

"A tree?" asked Miki.

"To put the presents under," supplied Liana.

"And to decorate," said Papanan, waving a finger in the air.

Miki looked perplexed, and Datum frowned at the other two, putting his hands on his hips.

"If this is part of some kind of savage ritual..." he said, slowly, carefully.

Papanan grinned, and shook his head. "Sure, but not of the religious sort."

"Not in recent years, anyroad, despite efforts," said Liana with a groan.

"Pah. Overblown and ancient belly-aching. No, it's just nice little things. We go out and buy presents, and put them under the Starlight tree. On the day of, we go, see who got what, and open them up."

"A... gift exchange, then?" asked Datum.

Liana nodded. "If you want to know the history of it, legend holds that a Saint of the Goddess Nymeia holds vigil on Starlight, giving presents to children and ferrying their prayers to her afterwards."

Datum put a hand to his forehead. "...if you get me in trouble-" he began.

"Nothing of the sort!" Said Papanan. "A gift exchange seems appropriate for your traditions as well. We will just say that the gifts are part of the feast. Giving thanks between each of us. And to the host as well, of course."

"Of course," said Datum, sourly. "And the trees?"

"Well," said Liana, smiling beatifically in her own way, "The inside of the Castrum is... rather bleak. I have always felt it could use some sprucing up. Rather than a singular tree, we can gather several, and claim it is just part of... general improvement."

Datum crossed his arms and frowned.

"Fine," he agreed at last. "But no decorations."

-*-

It was late afternoon, and Klynt trailed behind Nyx. It was cold, and there was snow on the ground, and her time in Ishgard had taught her to have somewhat more respect for the elements. So she had heavy leather boots on with thick soles, and a coat of Ishgardian make that Zoissette had gotten for her, and thick woolen mittens courtesy of Zoissette's brother, Ement. She had her thumbs stuck in her waistband as she sauntered after Nyx.

Nyx, of course, was in their armor. Something of Allagan make. Klynt had never asked much after it, and Nyx was never the sort to volunteer information unless prompted. It didn't matter. The weather never seemed to bother Nyx one way or another.

They stopped in the middle of a forest of evergreens, and Nyx looked around, her ears rotating slowly as she swept her gaze back and forth over the forest.

"I do not fully understand the selection criteria for evergreen trees," said Nyx. "I know it is important that they be tall, but less tall than the room they are to occupy. And their appearance must be aesthetically pleasing in a uniform manner. If you would indicate some, I shall inspect them. If we both agree on a tree, we can cut it down and transport it back."

Klynt shrugged.

"So... I just pick some?" she asked.

Nyx nodded, and she sighed. She also didn't know the 'selection criteria' for trees, so she poked through the forest, Nyx following silently behind. The first and second one, Nyx shook her head, and so she moved on. The third one, however, Nyx had circled several times, looking it up and down in her curious manner, eyes always wide open and staring, rarely blinking, with no expression on her face.

Klynt waited patiently.

"This one shall suffice," they declared.

Klynt and Nyx then spent the rest of the afternoon hewing it down and hauling it back home. The work passed mostly in silence, a situation Klynt would have found aggravatingly intolerable with most people.

But then again, Nyx was not most people. Nyx was Nyx, and Klynt found their silence companionable these days.

They deposited the tree into a storeroom, and Nyx began to fashion a stand for it.

"The tree will need to stay out here overnight. This storeroom shall keep it above freezing. In the morning, we can inspect it for animal urine or fecal matter, as well as any vilekin or plantkin that we will wish to avoid bringing indoors."

"Sure," said Klynt easily.

"Thank you for your assistance," said Nyx. "I will need some time to perform my work. I would appreciate speaking to you before you go to sleep for the evening, however."

"...sure," said Klynt, less easily. "...you gonna explain what all this is about?"

"I can explain later," said Nyx.

Odd, thought Klynt, but she let it be as she ambled out of the storage shed and back to the main holdings.

-*-

The trees were put carefully in various places in the Castrum. Nyx had helped the project scientists select them and bring them back, and they had build the stands for them. There were no presents nor decorations yet, but Nyx had been told those would come in the days to come.

After the last tree had been set up, Liana had come up to Nyx, and smiled at her warmly as she did, holding out a hand. Nyx knew what that meant, and reached out to take the woman's hand in her own.

"This is your first Starlight," said Liana.

"It is. I understand that it is a ritual of some sort. But I do not know the details or significance."

Papanan approached now, looking thoughtful. "Few rituals, actually," he said conversationally. "Interesting that most peoples have something-or-another around this time of year, isn't it?"

Liana looked at him, and nodded. "...yes. The Garleans do not recognize Starlight, but they do traditionally have a feast on the winter solstice that is very important to them."

"And us Ul'dahns take the opportunity to exchange gifts. Good for making friends, pleasing family, and for the merchants to make decent coin," said Papanan, grinning.

"As for my people... we hold the twelve in high regard. This is a celebration in the name of Nymeia, and her appointed saint. Miki could say more about the Doman tradition - their people do not care for it the same as ours do, but that stands to reason, given the difference in climate. They refer to it as longest night, and reflect upon the importance of some of their so-called kami, I believe."

Nyx looked at Liana. "Kami are a kind of eikon," she said. "Our mission opposes them."

"And the gods of Eorzea as well," said Papanan. "So we aren't celebrating them, not this year, not around here."

"But the celebration continues," said Liana. "I think... that perhaps, in the coldest part of winter, when the day is at its shortest, almost too short to do anything useful - particularly in the far north of Garlemald, but also elsewhere - that people turn to each other, and keep one another company, and celebrate that the days will only get longer from here. So the details, we're making them up here. Miki was right to try to find a harmonious balance between our many traditions. And the significance, well."

Liana smiled at Nyx, squeezing their hand tightly.

"It is a chance for us to spend time together. And this Starlight, all I want is to spend time with you. I've more to teach you, if you like. And I think you've more to learn, if you are willing."

"I am," said Nyx reflexively, and Liana smiled broadly while Papanan laughed.

"Going to teach it the real meaning of Starlight, are you?" he said.

Liana shrugged at him, with a smile. "And why not? She can learn."

Miki came over, noticing the group gathered together. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Oh, just all of us displaced savages, getting together to try to teach an ancient artifact a dozen different conflicting stories, and hope it'll learn something out of it," said Papanan.

Miki looked at Nyx, and then between Liana and Papanan.

"Is that wise?" he asked.

"Let the Garleans teach her how to be a weapon," said Liana. "Our duty should be to teach her how to be a person."

"And also to make sure it's working right," said Papanan.

Miki just shrugged.

-*-

Klynt stayed out in the main room, her fingers toying lazily with her nhalisman, her eyes half-lidded as she considered sleep.

But, she told Nyx she would speak with her before going to bed, and so she was awake, at least for a little while longer.

At last, Nyx returned.

"Gohtawyn. I appreciate you staying here. I will not keep you long. I am wondering if you plan on staying in the area for the next twelve days."

Klynt frowned. "...through Starlight, I take it."

"Yes," said Nyx, and then after a moment, "I would appreciate your company. There are rituals I wish to observe, and I believe they would be more meaningful if they were shared with someone. I would like that someone to be you, if possible."

"...sure," said Klynt. She wanted to ask more, but she was tired, and she wanted to go to bed.

"Thank you," said Nyx. They turned away, and looked up into the ceiling. Klynt knew, given another moment, they would leap up to the rafters and vanish for the evening.

"Nyx, I wanna ask you a question," said Klynt.

Nyx turned towards her. Staring. Unblinking. Klynt sighed, and rubbed the back of her head.

"It's quiet around here," she said. "Not a lotta people. Pretty lonely at night. If you want me to stick around, no problem, but if it's alright - I'd like company. Snuggle buddy or something."

Nyx regarded her flatly for a moment, then nodded. "I find your proposal agreeable. I shall meet you in your room. I need to perform personal maintenance and change."

Klynt nodded.

It was about a bell later. Klynt had climbed into her bed, topless but with her pants on, arms wrapped around her head, contemplating the ceiling. She heard the door open and then close, but no other noise, which told her all she needed to hear. She did not even need to look to watch as Nyx approached.

Nyx was wearing just her skinsuit, some kind of skintight smooth material. Klynt had assumed it was, in fact, Nyx's skin for much of the early time they had known each other. However, she had seen Nyx out of it a few times, either while performing maintenance, or engaged in intimate activities, the few times the two had indulged in such. Klynt was not interested in that tonight, however, and apparently neither was Nyx, who simply helped herself into Klynt's bed and curled up tightly in a ball next to her.

Klynt remembered the first few times she had shared a bed with Nyx. It was during the disastrous aftermath of events in Ul'dah, while they were still making their way towards Ishgard. Klynt had not dressed for the climate, and had come to regret that decision bitterly. Nyx had spent much of the time riding on Klynt's back. The physical exercise of carrying her had helped keep Klynt warm, but so had the gentle heat that Nyx radiated.

And when they had stopped to make camp, Nyx had curled up next to Klynt, much as she was now, and had radiated that same gentle heat, staving off the cold and helping Klynt go to sleep.

Klynt wrapped her arms around Nyx, and closed her eyes. Next to her, she knew Nyx was already asleep, as she could not feel her breathing. Yet another one of their quirks. Klynt remembered panicking the first time she had discovered such, and smiled faintly.

Nyx was a weird little creature. And she did not often ask for anything for herself. She would often ask other questions, about the mission, about parameters for a task, or for support in the mission, but rarely things for herself, as a person. So if Nyx wanted company for Starlight, well, Klynt was inclined to be obliging.

As she drifted off, luxuriating in the gentle heat radiating from her friend, Klynt resolved to ask more after what it was Nyx wanted with Starlight. But for now, she was tired, and so she drifted off to sleep.

#ythappieststarlight2022 #final fantasy xiv #nyx blackmoon #klynt gohtawyn #a campfire tale #all i want for starlight is you #202212-14 #biot writes

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sscarchiyo · 2 years

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Masumi, Tsukuyomi, Ousuke, Karou, on where is their favorite place to kiss you 😘

their favorite place to kiss you

paring(s): masumi, tsukuyomi, ousuke & karou

contains: gn!reader, fluff, slightly suggestive in ousuke’s?

✉️ - am i slowly falling for karou? maybe, maybe not😜 hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated, have a good day <3

masumi

→ everywhere. he’s kissing you everywhere, no part of you is going un-kissed. from your head to ya toes and yes, I said toes. you do so much for him, you mean so much to him and what better way to do that than to drown you in his love? they’re spontaneous, so ya don’t know when you’re gonna get them. if you were ever in class or even at work, he’d sneak in with his ability, give you lots of kisses and sneak back out. his way of giving you motivation to finish whatever it is you’re doing.

tsukuyomi

→ your hands. he’s a good old-fashioned lover boy and treats you like royalty. he’ll kiss the back, palm, your fingertips and gives em a light squeeze each time each time. he does it subconsciously too, you could be typing on the the laptop with tsukuyomi next you and next thing you know he’s got a whole of your hand leaving light kiss on them. you don’t even realize until he’s popped a finger in his mouth and bites it ( affectionately <3 ).

ousuke

→ your lips. his go to place to kiss you honestly, no place he’d rather have it. he needs his daily kisses or you’ll have a very petty ousuke on your hands. pda king! so he doesn’t care who’d be around to see, I mean did you see the way he spoke to the emperor? yea, nobody can put a filter on this guy. also his favorite way to ‘shut you up’, don’t get it him wrong though − he loves to hear you talk. sometimes, just sometimes though, he needs a little quiet. so he’ll simply walk over, cup your cheek and plant a short but deep kiss on your lips, leaving you speechless. then he’ll smirk and run his thumb across your lip, before telling you to continue.

karou

→ your forehead. thinks of it as a simple and domestic thing to do, he does it all the time. from the moment you both wake up, before you both go to work, after work, before you both sleep and randomly throughout the day, because to karou there is no limit as to how much he’s allowed to do it. you once asked him why he kisses your forehead so much, but he was drunk − so his answer was unexpected. he said your forehead was like a lamp and him kissing it was like rubbing the lamp in aladdin and he’ll get wishes. and when you asked him what he wishes for, he says to spend everyday with you. lucky for him, it seems to be working.

#second form: scribbles #tougen anki x reader #tougen anki x you #masumi x reader #masumi headcanons #yodogawa masumi x reader #tsukuyomi momoka headcanons #tsukuyomi x reader #momoka tsukuyomi #ousuke x reader #ousuke headcanons #momokado ousuke headcanons #karou headcanons #karou x reader #namikido karou headcanons #namikido karou x reader

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beyondthetemples-ooc · 2 years

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You know what, I actually want to know how many times TLT has been in my dreams. I keep being Amused by how frequently it appears. And every single time I think about it, I Wonder how many I’ve had.

Well, now I’m OFFICIALLY KEEPING TRACK!

As of TODAY, I am able to find NINETEEN LOCKED TOMB DREAMS! (Between this blog and the Much More Private One.) And that’s just the ones I saw fit to record!

~ May 8th, 2021: The first dream I considered to be TLT related because it involved osseomancy.

~ Around May 26th 2021: Isaac and Jeannemary cameo’d.

~ Also posted on May 26th, but never recorded in its own post: Watching a stop-motion thing on TV about necromancy, and critiquing everything they got wrong.

~ June 7th, 2021: I was reading a TLT book that felt unfamiliar and turned out to be Alecto the Ninth.

~ June 10th 2021: I found a book that was a Locked Tomb parody containing the phrase “she meditated, meditatively”.

~ June 14th 2021: As Harrowhark. Golden eyes of uncertain origin and being pulled out of The River.

~ Aug 10th 2021: As Harrowhark. The very disturbing one about the children under my watch being sick/hurt/dying and I tried desperately to save them, but was utterly helpless. (The post calls this TLT Dream #4, but I can’t find the other one that factors into this.)

~ Aug 13th 2021: Getting too close to a graveyard, Something Following Me, and to self-soothe, I started praying, of all things: “I pray the tomb stays shut forever. I pray the rock is never rolled away...”

~ Sept 11th 2021: Being flirted with too bodily and dream-me intentionally Donning Intimidating Harrowhark Vibes by posturing, saying “Touch me again and I will make it to your pain”, and turning in a swath of black.

~ Sept 13th 2021: As Harrowhark. Action/Adventure Genre dream about being pursued around a building and having a split/”jockeying” consciousness with Gideon.

~ Sept 23rd 2021: As Harrowhark. Falling through a chasm and being caught by a net before seeing golden eyes and being lifted out of the water again.

~ Sept 25th 2021: Cartoon crossover dream where Harrowhark cameo’d.

~ Dec 19th 2021: Partially As-Harrowhark dream about being separated from Gideon and getting thrown in a cell.

~ Jan 22nd 2022: Dream As Harrowhark where Gideon made me food I could eat and I felt loved.

~ Jan 23rd 2022: Harrowhark vibes dream about having hallucinations of cat ghosts and zombie hands reaching up from the floor to grab me and very laconically being like, “Can you not” at my brain.

~ Feb 25th 2022: The LARP that turned into Me As ACTUALLY Harrowhark about the undead attacking.

~ April 1 2022: The one about a fuzzy white dog nuzzling into my hand while I had long black hair, a suspected Nona Brain Reference.

~ April 13th 2022: The Nexus one about the Disney Channel necromancer parody.

~ April 25th, 2022: I dreamed a Locked Tomb comic book came out!

~ June 16th 2022: Crossover dream about Karou (from Daughter of Smoke and Bones) being a Ninth House necromancer.

#ntn spoilers #child death tw #lapi don't look #rhs dream log #rhs tlt #posts for the blackwinged blog #bws h

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manga-gamer · 2 years

Text

Date Night (Jack x Kojiro Nanjo)

Jack, my love (platonic), take this gift! @kage7ama

---

"Kojiro, are you ready?" Jack called, a bit exasperated at his boyfriend.

"Yeah! Just about ready!"

Jack sighed, crossing his arms. A minute later, he felt two arms wrap around his torso.

"Hey there, cutie."

"You're ready?"

"Mhm." Kojiro kissed his boyfriend's cheek who gave him a smirk.

"Come on, Lukas and Karou are waiting for us."

Kojiro gave him one last kiss and led him out the door.

---

Jack and Kojiro looked around, waiting for their friends. Kojiro chuckled, leaning against the padded seat behind him.

"It's not like Karou to be late. Wonder what happened-"

"Sorry we're late!"

They looked up and saw Lukas and Karou looking down at them. Karou sighed before sitting down.

"This commission took longer than I expected..."

"Yeah, everything was crazy at the bookstore." Lukas ran his hands through his hair.

"Ah, it's fine. We weren't waiting long."

"It's not like you to be late, Karou."

"Shut up, Kojiro."

"Be nice, Ko." Jack lightly slapped him.

"Haha, sorry."

The date went on with Kojiro and Karou subtly insulting each while Jack and Luke tried to keep them both in line. After they parted ways, Jack pouted when he felt Kojiro kissing him.

"Cutie..."

"Hmph. No matter how many times I warned you, you still insulted him..."

"Ah, I'm sorry"

"I couldn't tell, since you kept doing it."

He snickered and kissed Jack's cheeks. "Come on, cutie. Turn your head a little."

Jack turned to him and he was greeted by a kiss from Kojiro.

"Have I earned your forgiveness?"

Jack smiled at him. "Yeah. You did."

#sk8 the infinity #jack. i finally made it

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melodicwitchlight · 9 months

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arcaneprophesied ☀️ ivar the boneless :

During the entire 'transaction', Ivar watched the expressions on Athena’s face. The fear and distrust pulled a smile from the crippled king, who was known for his bouts of cruelty and unchecked anger. He wonders which stories have made their way to the Vestmenn - the Irish - which tales of battle have they heard? Or perhaps some version of Sigurd's death floats in their mind now.

When the deal is struck and the woman leaves, Ivar looks to Athena with a smirk. Boneless doesn't know the Celtic language spoken by the Vestmenn, though he knows English and his morsmål- given that the deal had been finalized in English, he wonders if Athena knows any Norsk. "Sitte," comes Ivar's command, gesturing to a seat nearby. "Snakker du Norsk?" He asks and before even gaining a response, he continues. "Mitt navn er Ivar den Beinløse og Jeg er din nye konge."

“If you do not speak our tongue, you will learn,” he warns.

she is in the village, finding herself by the seashore where she had seen the waves in. where am i? she thinks. as water is trickling through her face, as she touches her skin.

as she wanders, her feet digging into the grains of sand ( as she had no shoes or slippers ), she sees the houses, thatched straw roofs ( wheat for chocolate biscuits ). she nodded in thought, closing her eyes briefly and sighing in tiredness ; an inclination of nervous tick.

she then sees a boy, pensive and looking through a book. he had found her bible, fluttering away to wind, and he grasped the delicate crumbling object, so as to not lose it to thor. he was looking for answers, amidst his drug haze. he said his name was hvitserk during their conversation, she noting he looked ill or suffering tremendously, and saying ‘ please take care of your health ‘ ; a sirach passage.

as athena entered the house, a man is talking to a person called baldur who said he was a norse god and they had discussed business of trade. baldur had on a black suit with white buttoned blouse. he himself, of course was one. as encouraged by freydis, when he had thought he was a crippled monster. she sits next to him on her own throne, blond braided hair and wearing a dress.

after business concluded with baldur, ivar looked at the next person in line. she says, ‘ hi, earl ragnarsson,‘ to him and bowing in respect. she is holding her bible ; hearing him say he worshiped norse religion to baldur. she remembered deutoronomy had abhorred norse, there being a passage where thiago demolished karou and akiva’s pagan shrine.

she starts to say a starting passage from it, ‘ when you cross the jordan to search and occupy mount gerizim and e’bal, you shall bless it….’ as she is used to reading the bible, and it weaving in conversations with others.

ivar had gestured for her to continue, she beginning to say something about adventure, as he liked stories, his mother aslaug spoke stories to sing he and his brothers to sleep. intrigue in his blue eyes, as he leaned on forward in chair. she was an newcomer to kattegat, he thought, as he hadn’t seen her before. she was likely a foreigner from the far isles, as there was a fishing dock nearby.

yet she realised during, ‘ you must demolish completely all the places, search out and destroy that do not serve our god…’ he looked quite scary and remembering she was in pagan land, and paused. she is quiet and blinked nervously. in the monastery, father cuthbert had been quite mean when he was performing her monk duties, when she was a male. he did not even listen to her, she working to the bone, and he saying, ‘ sit down or shut up. ‘ ivar’s expression slowly changes to one of suspicion, during this time, wondering who or what she was saying and planning of demolishing, and he glares.

her eyes widen at hearing him say he owned her, at her silence, ‘ perhaps you are to be a thrall since you have lost your tongue, ‘ and she is startled. she didn’t want to continue on the passage, as he might kill her!

he is angry she wasn’t responding after a long time ( perhaps she is an enemy ), as she looked like she was judging him. he recalled killing when he was a child with his little axe, the other children teasing him. and his mother aslaug had soothed him, saying it’s all okay. he had many angry rages, yet thinking he may endure being boneless, despite the mocking words around him that he was not a man. he had endured much. he slides down from the chair ; the coils of a snake 🐍 slithering to the ground and held his crutches next to him to calmly walk to her. ‘ you must surrender to me!!’

she thinks he is about to strike her, slithering in for the kill, and shrieks, backing away.

‘ brother! ‘ hvitserk rushes to where ivar was, and says, ‘ let’s try to understand her strange runes. ‘ ivar stares at his brother, and says, ‘ alright, alright, ‘ he calms down, anger shadowing in his chest.

‘ this is my house. you must remember. so sit, ‘ he gestures to a seat across from him, gesturing at her hesitancy, and she sits down. he himself makes his way back to his throne, walking on his cane. ‘ do you speak norse? my name is ivar the boneless and I do not speak your tongue. I understand a little of what you say, from our travels to england. ‘ and there was sinric, the translator whom was not with them right now. ‘ yet why do you stop in your story, hmm? ‘ they could have found some way to continue communicating in the heart of all the noise and confusion. ‘ now, what were you saying of destroying? ‘

hvitserk gave her some bread, as she is shaking, she thanking him. it was a french delicacy that they brought from france 🇫🇷 during their raid there ; brioche bread. as she chews, she thinks on what to say. she looks at where she left the story off in her bible. the fragrant incense of beauty calmed her a little, she looking briefly around her, and seeing ivar was seated next to her, with no more indication of real insidious intention nor that her speaking in the bible didn’t make god strike her when she stood. ‘ I wasn’t thinking of destroying anything. it is a passage from my bible, ‘ as she holds her bible tightly, yet in unison of the pages in beautiful calming thought.

#rp partner | arcaneprophesied #writing.#athena ic.#foretoldchaos

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