#in my head i think the first impression was because of the haircut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arminsumi · 5 months

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★ Satoru's undercut

★ Synopsis : He fears the hairdresser like it's the dentist. One day, he accidentally gets an undercut style. He would have thrown a tantrum if it weren't for your positive response — because all he really cares about is that you enjoy his haircut.

★ Content : soft fluff, romantic tension, some mutual pining??

★ Library ★ reblog for a cake slice! 🍰

"This will ruin my life..."

"It will not ruin your life."

"I'm gonna die!"

"You're not gonna die."

"Yes, I'm gonna die! They're gonna cut my head off."

"They're not gonna cut your head off."

Satoru had a haircut appointment which you were accompanying him to as per his desperate demand request. Suguru was there also, helping Shoko with something technical on her phone. He laughed when Satoru was whining to you.

The four of you were on the train; Suguru and Shoko stood tightly packed with their backs facing other people as if they were the group shield. And Satoru sat next to you, clinging to your arm as if he were a kid on his way to the dentist.

"Don't laugh. You know I feel the same about hairdressers as people feel about dentists!" he pouted.

"Satoru, you're so weird." you said.

“I'm not!”

You shook your head at him. Satoru grumbled.

"No one understands me!" he said dramatically.

Suguru commented, "I do understand why you dislike hairdressers, Satoru; most of them don't cut your hair how you want."

Shoko nodded and chimed in, "— yup, and you usually leave with a fake smile and say "oh wowww... I love it!" but you actually hate it." then she went back to frowning at her phone with Suguru.

“My hair is important, I can't afford to have a bad haircut." Satoru said.

"Haha, you make it sound like if you have a bad haircut it could cost you millions." you laughed.

Satoru sat up straighter and spoke seriously, "It may as well cost me millions!"

You didn't understand why Satoru was being so dramatic.

****

The hairdresser looked at you, Shoko and Suguru and then wondered why so many people were accompanying this grown man to his haircut, as if he were about to get a root canal for the first time.

Suguru whispered into her ear, and she blushed at his alluring charm like anyone would.

"He's scared of bad haircuts... so please do your best, he has a girl to impress. See that one sitting there?” Suguru pointed to you, “Yeah, that's the one."

He accidentally flustered her, and he smirked about it when he returned to you and Shoko.

"Suguru, your head looks as big as a bubble about ready to pop." you joked, noticing his smug demeanor as he took a waiting seat with you.

"I think I just flustered the hairdresser on accident." he said.

Shoko chuckled, "Is it ever an accident? I think you do it on purpose — oh, Y/n, I think Satoru is trying to get your attention. Give him some comfort."

Satoru recoiled when the cold blade of the scissors touched his neck, and looked distressed when the hairdresser touched his hair.

You knew he was highly sensitive to touch, especially his hair — he hated people touching his hair (reason X for hating hairdressers). The only person who was allowed to touch his hair was you. Suguru and Shoko needed a "valid reason" for touching Satoru's hair.

But you could comb your fingers through his hair any time, any place for no reason and Satoru would go limp with a smile on his face, completely melting for the act of affection.

Sometimes when it was just you and him alone together in his apartment, especially during his sleepless nights, Satoru would lay his tired head on your lap and ask you to play with his hair. Each stroke of your hand mellowed him out. He especially loved the feeling of your fingers running through his hair when it was fluffy and long.

So really, he feared not the hairdresser or even the bad haircut, but the fact that it might be too short or not fluffy enough for you to enjoy. It had to be just right. He had to maintain his fluffy hair for you.

He wanted to make sure that when you saw him at every party and get-together, you'd think "Wow, Satoru's hair looks so good.". He wanted you to compliment his hair and make him feel good and blushy.

And most of all, he just wanted to please your eyes. He wanted you to be starstruck when you looked at him.

So, a good haircut was critical.

****

Satoru's panic calmed after you took the empty seat next to him. He watched in admiration as you struck up a friendly conversation with the hairdresser. She turned out to be kind. She was an apprentice (picture nervous Satoru stiffening his shoulders when he learned this) and her mother owned the establishment next door.

Satoru was mostly quiet and focused on his reflection in the mirror. He squinted in suspicion when the lady brought out a hair buzzer.

But then you distracted Satoru by asking about what the four of you were doing after this. He stuttered a bit, half-looking at the hair buzzer and jumping a little when it turned on.

You talked so much that Satoru was completely distracted, and the lady could work. Though, it was hard, because Satoru didn't really specify what he wanted... so she winged it.

She thought hey, this guy would look good with an undercut. So, she cut an undercut for Satoru, and looked at you and smirked. His girlfriend will appreciate it, she thought as she looked at you and Satoru talking with hearts in your eyes.

You weren't his girlfriend. But you may as well have been. The two of you were anyways soulmates since kindergarten. Sure, you went away for five years to work abroad, but the link between you and Satoru wasn't broken by the distance.

****

Satoru gasped and nearly fainted when he saw how short his hair had been buzzed at the bottom. His neck felt exposed and suddenly it felt more drafty.

"What the—"

"— oh, you look hot, Satoru." You said.

He immediately shut up and went red in the face.

"Thanks, yeah it looks... yeah." Satoru hesitantly complimented the hairdresser's work.

She beamed proudly and wrapped up the haircutting session. Satoru took off the black dressing gown and stood up and shimmied the white hair off his pants.

"The cat is shedding." you joked, making Satoru grin with sealed lips.

You picked a white strand of his hair off the back of his shirt when he stood in line to pay at the checkout. He didn't notice. Such a cute boy.

Satoru was just grumbling to himself about how he'd need a scarf or turtleneck to compensate for his "practically naked" hairstyle now.

You stared at his undercut and felt your heartbeat get a bit frantic.

Then you kept staring as you left the barber shop.

Satoru wrapped an arm around your shoulders out of habit, as if he were your boyfriend, so the hairdresser felt sure that you two were dating and said something as you two left that really made you and Satoru blush;

"Your girlfriend loves it." she winked.

"I'm not his—"

"She's not my—"

"She sure does! Thanks for everything, see ya." Shoko cut off you and Satoru from responding and shoved the two of you out the door.

****

That comment lingered in the back of yours and Satoru's minds for the rest of the day.

On the train home, you grazed your fingers over Satoru's undercut and it elicited the funniest reaction out of him; he shivered like a cat that had just been scratched in a sweet spot.

"Haha, does that feel good?" you asked.

"It does. But my neck feels naked." Satoru shrugged.

Oh my god, do that again, he thought. It felt so good.

"Aw, then Y/n should wrap her arms around your neck." Suguru said in a flirtatious murmur.

Shoko laughed and propped a cigarette between her lips.

The four of you got off the train, you parted ways. Suguru and Shoko lived in different places and had to wait for their respective trains to take them home. So, you said your goodbyes and went with Satoru.

When you and Satoru moved out of your university housing, you both decided to live on the same street. You can say it was for X reasons, like oh it's a good neighborhood or oh the prices are great or oh the apartment walls aren't thin... but let's be honest; you and Satoru just didn't want to live too far from each other. You were inseparable, even cry-babies whenever the two of you were separated.

Satoru was always clinging or touching you in some way – hanging off your shoulders, resting his chin on the top of your head, draping an arm around you, holding your hand, snuggling into your neck. The closeness brought him more comfort than his own bed. He even claimed once that he could fall asleep on you more readily than on his bed.

Sometimes he was just shy of kissing you when you two met up, or when he knocked on your apartment door some mornings. His lips would graze over yours by accident in some circumstances, and though the two of you would laugh it off, there was an unmistakable spark in the air between you and him.

****

“Do you like it?” Satoru asked.

“I love it. You look really good.” You replied.

Satoru smiled to himself, hiding his face in your lap.

The TV was playing the most recent episode of that trashy romance soap opera – the episode where the two love interests kissed in the rain. Satoru stared hard at their lips connecting, and thought of why he hasn’t attempted to kiss you again. He didn’t want to ruin anything, so he kept his confession to himself even if it was obvious that he liked you.

You noticed he went a bit silent as you ran your fingers through his hair. He made a soft, long groan when your fingertips tickled up the back of his neck and over his prickly undercut.

“You sound like a cat.” You laughed.

His eyes were closed, brows relaxed into a sleepy arch. Whenever he got drowsy in your lap, his lips would part and show his two front teeth.

****

After getting an undercut hairstyle, Satoru was living in heaven with how much attention you gave his hair. Every day you’d find an excuse to play with his hair.

It made his heart beat harder and his mind go blank whenever you touched his neck and hair. He’d get shivers and close his eyes each time you did it, and would even stop talking mid-sentence.

In time it grew out. He refused to go back to the hairdresser, and instead insisted that you cut his hair for him. At first, he attempted to do it himself, but then he wimped out as soon as he held the scissors to his hair.

So, after he practically begged you on his knees and voiced his fear for the hairdresser, you agreed.

Cutting Satoru’s hair was a whole event. You invited Suguru and Shoko over to your apartment, and the four of you were laughing in the cramped bathroom together.

You had no idea what you were doing, and the online tutorials didn’t help much.

Satoru was dramatic when he thought you were cutting it too short or jagged, and he was so very picky that it drove you nuts to the point of putting the scissors down and leaving. But then he hugged your legs and apologized cutely, so you came back. Suguru and Shoko had to get it on camera because it was pure comedy.

“Alright, fairy princess. How did I do?” you asked Satoru.

He checked himself out in the mirror. His jawline and shorter hair drove you a bit wild, it was hard to contain yourself.

“It’s okay.” He replied cheekily.

“Just “okay”?! I put my soul into this!”

He grinned. “I’m just teasing.” He said, “I like it. Now let’s test it out.”

You looked confused. “Test it out?”

“Play with my hair.” He explained, “And tell me you like how it feels or else I’ll cry.” He added dramatically.

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

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dante-mightdie · 1 month

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A small req? Wheree we're a milf and our incel son eventually joins the military (you choose if he joins the military or meets at a bar I ain't gaf) and meets Ghost, 141 whatever. He brings Ghost home to his basement room(or the 141 bb do whatever you want) and ghost is surprised n shi that we this incel momma when we com with snacks or something like 'get outta here mom you're embarrassing me Infront of my new friends!" Is our sons reaction or sum. And ghostie pookie excuses himself up to the bathroom to sloppily makeout with us 🥺

nobody look at me i’m foaming at the mouth

c/w: simon is kinda strange but in a weird sexy way, mentions of misogyny, talks of sex must no actual smut, housewife kink kinda

it’s no secret that your son is a nasty little misogynistic shit. everyone on base has had the experience of standing next to him on a night as out when he gets a drink thrown in his face by whatever girl is he was chatting to

they’d been there every time he dogs out in front of everyone when you visit him on base. watching your eyes well up when your son tells you that he doesn’t like your new haircut or dress, that you’re too old to wear stuff like that

simon tried not to judge, appearances can be deceiving. perhaps you’re not all smiles and baked goods, maybe you’re an awful mother behind the scenes. he really tried. until he found out the real reason your son treats you like shit…

“she made my dad leave. he told me after they divorced that she wasn’t giving him what he needed, that’s why he had to go and get it somewhere else.” your son finally admitted one night after going through half case of beer

simon felt his hand tighten around his bottle as your son continued to ramble about how you were always busy with shit jobs. waitressing, cleaning or retail. he spent most of his childhood never getting all the latest toys and clothes because you could never afford it, too busy catching up on late bills to make sure there was a roof over both of your heads

“she’s so selfish.”

‘fuck being non-judgmental’ simon thinks. this kid doesn’t know how lucky he is. having a such a lovely mum like you, never losing your patience with your son even when he treats you like dirt. always trying to greet him with a hug or kiss just for him to push you away. begging him to call when he’s away just so you can know your boy is safe :(

“sounds like your mad at your mum for being the one that stuck around, lad.” price buts in, shaking his head with a small laugh.

you had been a topic of discussion the night after your first visit to the base. the product of a few glasses of bourbon shared between simon and john

“did you see the new recruits mother? fuckin’ hell, if I were 10 years younger I’d be all over that.” price admitted, adjusting his hips as he leaned back in his desk chair. simon let out a small grunt of agreement, having thought about this since he first laid eyes on you

simon had come to the conclusion that you both just needed a good man in your life. your son needed a father figure that would actually stick around, he could tell by the way your son looks up to him and the captain, eager to impress them

and you. oh, you. with your sweet, simple dresses and adoring smile. simon wishes you’d smile at him like that. all that cooking that your son lets go to waste could go to him instead. you could cook his favourite dinners for him and take care of his house whilst he’s away at work, whipping the boy into shape. teaching him every thing that your sack of shit ex-husband clearly didn’t

he’d be so good to you too. he knows it’s been a while since you’ve had a man to take care of your needs. he sees the way you nearly drool as you watch him running laps around the field, tatted arms on display. he’d spit you open so nicely on his cock and he knows you’d take him so well too, your pretty cunt would he creaming all over him

he soon takes advantage of this knowledge, subtly convincing your son to invite him over to your home on leave. dropping some story about how his flat is getting some work done and that he only lives 20 minutes from you both. your son was quick to offer the lieutenant a place to stay, telling him that he could take your room. that you could sleep on the couch for a couple weeks.

‘we’ll share the bed.’ simon thinks, but he doesn’t dare say it to your sons face. can’t have this little brat meddling with his plan

his arrival is clearly a surprise to you from the way you rush about shortly afterwards to start scrubbing the house top to bottom, rattling off apologies about the state of everything. simon quickly shuts down any offer of him taking your bedroom

“keep your bed, love. I’ll take the sofa.” he grumbles, sipping the tea that you made for him whilst your son rolls his eyes from the other side of the kitchen

he can see the way your eyes look at him with this longing. he knows it won’t take much to get you into bed. poor thing that hasn’t had anyone to look after her for years

he spends the next few days proving to you that he can provide. helping you carry anything heavy, drying the dishes after you’ve watched them, fixing the handy jobs around the house

you’re constantly praising him, focusing your love and attention towards him instead of your ungrateful son and the boy hates it. which is just the cherry on top, simon thinks

“your mother is so lucky to have a son like you. you must help her around the house all the time!” you coo, fidgeting with your skirt

“my mum passed away… jus’ me left out of the whole family.” simon admits, solemnly

“you poor thing, I’m so sorry. you’re welcome here anytime…” you gasp softly, placing your delicate hand on his arm and squeezing the muscle of his bicep gently and simon is ashamed to say it made his cock twitch against his thigh

“thank you, sweetheart… such a lovely girl, aren’t you?” he smiles behind his mask, reaching over and wrapping his arm around your waist. he pulls you against him, putting one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he hoists you up onto the kitchen counter

he squeezes his large frame inbetween your spread legs, leaning forward to look into your widened eyes

“been so good to me, love. taking care of me. such a good mum to your son, ya just need a good man to be a wife to, don’t you?” he says, pushing your skirt up your lap and revealing your thighs to him

he feels your thighs squeeze his waist, an aroused reaction from you. your body slumps into his with a natural submission that makes his cock ache. he lowers his hand and hooks his mask over his nose, revealing the scar running over his lip

“s’alright, darling. ‘m here to look after you now. me, you and the boy will be a nice happy family, yeah?” he says with a small smirk. leaning forward to mould his lips against yours before you can answer

he hears the little whimper you let out as you kiss him back, a little sloppy and inexperienced from years of being single, too busy with your son and work to date

but that’s okay because simon’s here now. ready to claim his family.

#mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley

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literaila · 2 months

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Ok but like i would love to see megumi tsumiki and reader reacting to gojo getting an undercut in your writing style

“what is that?”

satoru has only walked through the door, slipping off his shoes and trying to pretend like he didn’t know that you were all waiting for him.

so what if he was a bit elusive about his whereabouts? it’s supposed to be a surprise.

but you’re standing by the door, with your arms crossed. your face is almost pained.

satoru can’t help but laugh. “no, hello?”

“satoru,” you whine, going to inspect him. “why didn’t you say anything?”

tsumiki creeps up behind you, wanting to see what you’re complaining about. her eyes widen when she catches a glimpse of him, then her mouth curls.

“you got a haircut!”

“yup,” satoru pops, walking over to the two of you. he places a kiss on your forehead, ignoring your distraught face. “how do i look?”

“can i feel?” tsumiki asks, leaning up on her tiptoes to reach towards his head.

he leans down to accommodate her, grinning when she giggles at the feeling of his freshly shaved head. “it’s prickly.”

satoru wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her into a hug.

“a lot lighter too. what do you think, miki?”

“it’s pretty,” she’s still rubbing at his head, but satoru ignores the ticklish feeling. “are you going to keep it like this?”

“we’ll see,” satoru hums, looking to you. you’re still standing there, displeased.

tsumiki giggles and steps away, running back into the living room to continue doing whatever she was before he got home.

you don’t say anything, just stare at his head.

“do you like it?” he asks, leaning down until he’s inches away from you.

“why didn’t you say anything?”

“it’s a surprise. i was already out and i’ve been thinking about it…” his nose nudges yours but you don’t move. you’re basically a statue, just barely blinking at him. “and i didn’t think you were going to cry about my hair so—“

“i’m not crying.”

“are you sure?” satoru asks, leaning back with a pout. his hand lingers above your face, just brushing against your cheek. “look at those pretty eyes. already red.”

you slap it away. “i’m not crying over your hair. if i were crying,” you say, “which i’m not, it would be because of how ugly you are.”

“that’s just untrue.”

but satoru still pouts, his hand unconsciously going to rub at the bare skin by his nape. it’s a bit cold now.

you sigh. “why did you have to mess with your hair?”

“i didn’t realize it was my only appeal.”

you roll your eyes. “i just wished you’d have warned me. i expected a normal gojo to walk through the door—not a half bald one.”

“it’ll look the same when i take the blindfold off,” he argues. “and it’s not that much hair.”

“i can see your weird shaped head now,” your hand finally reaches up, grazing against his as you touch it. “why is it so soft?” you whisper, mostly to yourself.

satoru pouts again, though almost purring at the feeling of your hand. “so you don’t like it?”

you frown. then you ruffle the hair at the top of his head, still long as always.

“it’ll look the same with your glasses on?”

satoru rolls his eyes, despite himself, but nods.

“fine.”

“this is not the reaction i was expecting.”

you drop your hand, crossing your arms again. “and just what were you expecting?”

“oh, satoru, you’re so pretty,” he mocks, doing a terrible impression of your voice. “please send me a picture of your headshot. then sign it.”

you flick his forehead. “you don’t have a headshot, weirdo.”

satoru grins and pulls you in by your waist. it takes little effort and you don’t argue. “well, i’d take one if you asked.”

you roll your eyes again.

this then, satoru puts all his effort into his pout, frowning very seriously. “i didn’t think you’d be upset.”

“i just like your hair.”

“oh, it’s ruined now? you only care about my looks?”

you shrug. “probably. i mean, it’s not like your personality is doing anything.”

satoru scoffs, and you smile for the first time since he got home. “kidding,” you whisper, and kiss the bottom of his chin.

“i’ll never wear the blindfold around you, if you want.”

you sigh. “no. you’ll whine about it, and i’ll know anyway.”

“wow. you’re so supportive of me.”

“aren’t i?”

satoru shakes his head, but he smiles despite himself. you’ve never been the type to fond over him, or one to relent. honestly, he knows that just the fact that you’re letting him hold you is a good sign.

eventually, you shake your head at him. “i’ll get used to it, i guess.”

“oh great.”

“how long will it take to grow out?” you wonder, and you’re fully teasing now.

but before satoru can answer—with an appropriate snarky comment—megumi walks around the corner, holding a book in his hands.

“what’re you guys doing?” he asks, trying to look behind satoru to see if someone’s there.

“megumi,” satoru tilts his head at the boy. “do you like my hair?”

megumi gives him a once over, then frowns. “freak,” he mutters, and walks away.

and then later on you can’t stop staring at him because, um, wow. satoru will laugh at you once he realizes that your eyes are practically attached to him, making sure to mess with his hair every available second.

it’s the least he can do.

#in case it was unclear reader hates change in all forms #this is it for tonight but tomorrow there will be better things #a typical family #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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mrvlbimbo · 2 years

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You mean nothing (everything) to me

Eddie Munson x reader

SMUT SMUT SMUT WARNING

4.3k words

She was already having a bad day at work when Mike and Dustin had so rudely bursted through the door of the video shop. The first thing she thought was that they should be at school but then she reminded herself of her own highschool days and she felt more forgiving. “I’m not giving you guys any more rated r movies. My boss had my ass for it last time,” she barked at them as they perused the shelves, clearly trying to build up the courage to ask her something.

“We need a different type of favor actually.” She tried to wrap her head around what Dustin might have been implying. Sure a lot of highschool kids asked her to buy them alcohol and such and she would be lying if she said she never obliged them.

“So we have this DND group,” Mike added and she almost laughed. Of course this would be about Eddie Munson and his stupid fucking DND cult.

“Yeah yeah, with Sinclair. Where is he anyways?” she asked, referring to their other friend who was part of the club as well. She kept up with the kids due to her best-friendship with their resident babysitter Steve Harrington. And because of that she knew that Lucas had a basketball game that night and that’s likely why they were pleading with her to join.

“So that’s why we’re here.” Mike introduced the idea with the amount of elegance she would expect from a Freshman in highschool who played DND in his freetime. He wasn’t convincing in the slightest but she allowed the two boys to continue with their pitch.

“He bailed. We need an extra for tonight.” Dustin brought a reason to the table, seemingly the more logical one of the two.

“Ask Harrington,” she shot back, presenting them with their first alternative. Also presenting her with an out so she wouldn’t have to see the infamous leader of their little club.

“He has a date,” Dustin replied smugly, knowing he had caught her in a bad spot.

“And you assume I don’t.” It was matter of fact. She stated that she had other things to do and that their excursion wasn’t worth her time. She was interested to see how they would respond.

“What you do isn’t considered dating,” Mike scoffed and she thought about smacking him in the side of the head. She decided against it since she was at work, and on her boss’s last nerve.

“Don’t be an ass. You’re too young to be talking about all that crap,” she replied sternly, reminding them that although she was a cool adult she was still an adult.

“So you’ll be there?” He asked, knowing it would be better to ask her a yes or no question than drag on and let her avoid the offer until she was able to coax them out of the shop.

“Yeah. Fine.” She had a soft spot for the kids so it was a no-brainer that she would help them out even if it was really inconvenient and uncomfortable for her.

She went home and changed into something nicer. Even after everything she was still trying to impress Eddie, some things never changed. It’s not like he would care, or more likely he’d make a snide comment about her outfit and then ignore her for the rest of the night.

Her assumption was right, his first words when she walked through the door were a comment about her promiscuity. “You brought the school slut into my sanctuary?” He was as rude as ever, still sporting that ridiculous haircut that she’d never admit to liking.

“Former school slut. I graduated, unlike you,” she snapped back, trying not to show that it hurt her. This game they had been playing for years only worked if he thought she hated him too, she couldn’t even think of how much worse it would be if he knew the truth.

“You don't have to rub it in. Plus I don’t have the advantage of sleeping with my teachers for grades.” He knew it wasn’t true but he said it anyway to get under her skin. He couldn’t help himself when that familiar scowl crawled over her face, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think it was cute.

“I never- whatever lets just get this stupid shit over with.” She stumbled over her words as she tried to remind herself why she was here in the first place. Partly because she wanted to help her favorite freshmen and partially because she was a bit of an emotional masochist.

The campaign dragged on as far as she was concerned, her character dying early into the final boss battle. Eddie spared no opportunity to make a dig at her at any given chance, making the whole thing even more unbearable.

She also didn’t miss the way, despite claiming to hate her, he wouldn’t take his eyes off her. Men are like that, wanting to fuck the very thing they’re dispise. Although, she liked to think anything with a brain wanted to fuck her. And most of the time she was right.

This was one of those times.

By the time the campaign was over, he was half hard from her leaning over the table in her unbearably low cut shirt. If he was a prude he might have suggested she cover herself up in the presence of the freshmen.

But he wasn't a prude, and he was quite enjoying the view down her shirt. A red lacy bra peaked out from the neckline when she bent down to pick up the dice. He regretted the way he reacted, voicing his frustration in pointed insults and taunting just like he did when they were in school.

When everything was done, he just needed to go home and rub one out in the shower. The shame would set in later, just like it always did. He had had his eyes on her for a while now and nothing was worse than the embarrassment of her obvious disinterest. From what he had heard, she had been with practically every guy in their small town. Except for him.

For some reason she never turned her sights to him. At first he tried to be nice, the way other guys never were. They saw her as a sure thing, never respecting her. He didn’t want to do that to her, take what he wanted and rush off to brag about his conquest.

Embarrassingly, he actually had a really serious crush on her for all of highschool. He stills remembers the day they met, she sauntered into his biology class fifteen minutes late and sat down on top of his desk.

“Can I help you, miss?” the teacher had asked sternly.

“Not unless you can get me a pack of smokes, ma’am.” She hopped off the desk and stepped in front of the class, plucking a piece of chalk up and writing on the board in big letters. Bullshit. She wrote ‘bullshit’ on the chalkboard and then she promptly strutted right back out of the classroom, shooting him a wink as she left.

They became quick friends after that, taking solace in the fact both of them hated everything about the stupid small town. For the first two years of highschool they were inseparable. Things changed once she made a reputation for herself. It started with one guy blabbing his mouth and then another. It’s not like everyone wasn’t doing it, but people latched onto her as the town whore probably because of her unconventional attitude.

It made her more popular. For all the wrong reasons, but still it was nice to have people pay attention to her. Everyone wanted to have something others wanted and she certainly did have that.

She took pride in her looks, utilizing revealing clothing to enhance her already considerable assets. From what he could see, that hadn’t changed. That night she wore a tight, low cut, cropped t-shirt and a denim miniskirt that barely covered her ass.

Her beat up high tops tapped on the floor as she walked over to him. When the boss battle was over he had drifted into his own thoughts as the rest of the group dispersed. She hadn’t gone yet, he assumed it was so she could deliver some heart wrenching insult before she left and never thought about him again. It wasn’t that easy for him, he never stopped thinking about her.

“Oh my god you’re high. You fuckin junkie.” Her voice cut through his trance like a knife. She was always so mean but her voice sounded so pretty to him, it was giving him whiplash.

“I’m not high, I'm just thinking.” He was quick to correct her, wanting her to know he was completely sober for what he was about to say.

“About?” she scoffed, making it clear she didn’t think highly of his intelligence.

“Why do you hate me?” As soon as he asked the question he knew it was a bad idea but he couldn’t help himself. He spent so many nights asking himself that question, it was high time someone else had to answer it.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” she snapped, anger bubbling over. It had been simmering all this time, and him acting like she was the reason there was a divide between them was just the final nail in the coffin.

“Yeah, after you ignored me for three years for no reason. I wanna know why you hate me.” His voice was frantic and upset, he didn’t know what his plan was but he wanted answers and he had her here now. It’s not like there were any remaining bridges to burn anyways.

“Oh because you were so friendly,” she replied sarcastically, referring to the way he had relentlessly mocked and criticized her publicly after their friendship ended. She could handle other people talking about her behind her back, but he said it to her face and it stung.

“I was confused. We were best friends and then-” he tried to defend himself but she quickly interrupted, seething at him trying to play the victim.

“Yeah we were. We were best fuckin friends and then you ruined everything.” Her voice sounded venomous, he flinched when she raised her voice just from the pure anger she radiated.

“What?” he asked dumbly.

“Junior year, winter formal,” she stated, as if it was supposed to mean something and It did mean something to both of them.

He remembered that night like it was yesterday. The dance was boring, they dipped after less than an hour and went back to her place. Her parents weren’t home so they decided to set up in the basement for a horror movie marathon.

She was scared out of her mind, or maybe he was. Either way they were curled up in eachothers arms, hiding from whatever monster was under the bed. After a particularly scary scene, she had crawled into his lap. He had thought maybe after all this time, he was finally going to get a chance with her.

His hands went to cup her waist, gripping the fabric of her dress in between his fingers. She was wearing a puffy purple cocktail dress with glitter. It looked stupid, well it would have looked stupid on anyone else. Because he thought she looked absolutely perfect. And he looked at her like she was the most beautiful person in the world.

She noticed the way he stilled, looking up at him in turn. “Eds, what's wrong?” He didn’t reply, not knowing the words to finally tell her how he felt. The look in his eyes told her all she needed to know. And for a second he thought she was going to kiss him, his hands tightened on her waist in anticipation.

But instead of what he expected, she shrunk back and mumbled something inherently. She made some excuse about being tired and shut off the movie, ordering him to go home. Nothing was said at the time, but he knew something was wrong. And based on the fact she completely ghosted him after that night, he was right.

“Yeah I remember.” He shook his head as if he was trying to shake the memory out, but like so many times before it didn’t work.

“The way you looked at me,” she added. He knew exactly the look she meant. It just hurt him more to realize the reason she rushed out that night was that she found out about his feelings. He had always assumed but having proof was harder somehow.

“You haven’t spoken to me in years because of a look?” he asked, he was angry but more than that he was just sad.

She wasn’t buying it. “No. It wasn't just any look. I know that look. That was the look of a guy who wants something.” That something she was referring to was obviously sex. So maybe he was in the clear, she hadn’t figured out about his feelings. The worse option that seemed to be reality, was she thought he was only friends with her because he was attracted to her.

“OK, is that such a crime?” he asked, not believing that they couldn’t have replaired their relationship from that with a mature conversation. Although, they were not having many mature conversations back at the age of 17.

“All that time. I thought you cared about me. And what, you were just playing the long con for a quick fuck?”

“Ok fine, I’ll admit it. In that moment, yeah I wanted to fuck you.” He should have told her that a quick fuck was absolutly not what he wanted but he was picking up on her anger and mirroring it.

“And now?” she asked, knowing exactly how to push his buttons even after all these years.

“Now? Yeah now I still do,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders as if it was no big deal. And maybe it wasn’t. Things were different now, they were both adults and they were no longer friends. They could fuck no strings attatched, and that idea was starting to look enticing to them both.

“And the fucked up thing was. I almost did it. Because I liked you Eddie. I really liked you.” She couldn’t hide the way her lip was quivering as she spoke. She was angry but not with him anymore, she was angry with herself for letting him make her feel this. So in a roundabout way she was still mad at him too.

“Why didn’t you?” he questioned, still miffed by the whole ghosting him for three years thing. But she had said it, she liked him all those years ago. Not anymore, he thought. It didn’t matter now, if anything it just made the whole thing sting more.

“Because I knew it wouldn’t mean to you what it meant to me,” she finally admitted, stepping close to him so they were almost chest to chest. She looked up at him with something close to longing and he almost choked.

“And now?” he asked. There was a weird sort of sexual tension in the air that neither of them knew how to confront.

“You mean fucking nothing to me,” she hissed.

“Good,” he whispered, grabbing her face and pressing their lips together harshly. There was no affection in the way he kissed her at first, just rough lust and anger. Both of their pent up feelings spilled out as they grappled at each other's clothes for something to hold onto.

His hands smoothed over her legs, rucking up her skirt so he could squeeze her ass. He snapped the band of her underwear, it was a lacy red to match her bra. “You wear these for me?”

“Would I have needed to?” she teased, knowing by the way his hard on pressed against her that he didn’t need any extra encouragement.

“No. You’d still get me all riled up in a winter coat.” it was one of his ridiculously cheesy lines that she was sure he used on plenty of girls. But she couldn’t help but smile at it a little despite herself.

“How romantic,” she scoffed, pushing him back into a chair and sinking to her knees. Her hands ran up his thighs, kneading at the muscle covered by his ridiculously tight jeans.

She palmed him over the fabric, squeezing somewhat harshly. He didn’t mind one bit. “Fuck. Romantic isn’t the word I would use.” He especially didn’t mind when unzipped his pants and took him in her mouth. She wanted to say something about him going commando but she was a bit preoccupied with him brushing the back of her throat.

“Mmm,” she replied, whatever words she was saying were muffled by his cock in her mouth.

“Harrington is one lucky bastard,” he commented offhandedly, not thinking about his words since he was currently being deepthroated.

She pulled away instantly, as if she had been burned. She stood over him, something she wasn’t usually able to do since he was quite a bit taller than her. “What the fuck did you just say to me?” she snapped, grabbing his jaw and forcing him to look up at her.

He whined when her sharp nails dug into the flesh of his chin. It wasn’t a pained whine, his arousal at her roughness was evident in the way he twitched in his seat. “Nothin. Sorry.” Based on his public persona, she hadn’t expected him to be the submissive type. Not to say she wasn’t enjoying it.

“No Eds. You said something, why don’t you tell me again?” she demanded, taking pleasure in the way he reached for her with grabby hands as she stood there glaring at him.

“I heard rumors about you and Harington, if it’s true he’s a lucky guy. It was a compliment, honest,” he rambled, desperate for her to forgive him and get back to touching him where he needed it.

“You wanna know something?” She climbed into his lap, straddling him with ease in the large throne-like chair. When she first walked in she thought the chair was absolutely absurd, but now she was grateful for its width. She wrapped one hand around his neck as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “I never fucked Steve. I never wanted to.”

“No?” he choked out, having a difficult time talking due to her gripping his throat tightly in her hand. He wouldn’t ask her to stop in a million years though.

She pressed little kisses all around his cheeks and jaw, never touching his mouth with hers. This might have upset him if he wasn’t too blissed out to notice with her lacey panties pressed tight against his cock. “All those years. I only ever wanted you.”

He nodded furiously, as if to say to ‘me too, i’ve been in love with you since freshman year.’ But that's not what she interpreted it as. She grinded down on him, squeezing his neck and biting a line up his neck. “Lookit you. Can’t even talk,” she cooed.

She removed the hand abstracting his breathing so both of her hands could cup his cheeks. “Gonna be good for me?” she asked, her overly sweet voice almost taunting him. He cringed at the fact she would never be this nice to him if he wasn’t about to stick his dick in her.

That made him understand what she was feeling a little bit better. All those years ago, when he was prepared to tell her he loved her, she thought all he wanted was her body. And she used to like him, he had said it. Now it was too late and all he got was some mindblowing sex to give her closure and make him fall even deeper under her spell.

And so his heart was heavy when she pushed her panties aside and slid down onto his cock. That didn’t make it any less pleasurable when she clenched around him. He felt like he was going to pass out, barely catching the praise spilling from her mouth. “Fuck, Eds. We shoulda done this ages ago,” she moaned, carefully picking her hips up and bringing them back down slowly.

“Yeah,” he agreed lazily, letting his hands fall to her waist and rub little circles on the skin there. She went slow which he appreciated, deep slow thrusts that made both of them shiver. His heartache had faded, realizing he would be content to only be one of her conquests. He would be anything she wanted if she kept looking at him like that.

Her eyes were glassy and filled with lust. She was usually so sharp but she looked content and peaceful for once. She looked beautiful. He brought one of his hands up to the back of her hair to smash their lips together again.

It was aggressive and messy, his tongue fighting to engulf every bit of her mouth. She giggled when he pulled back and kissed her again on the tip of her nose. “So pretty,” he murmured. He could've sworn his heart stopped when her walls fluttered around him at the praise.

“Eddie,” she gasped out when he finally brought his thumb down to circle her clit. He wasn’t as experienced as her but he knew his way around, both from porn and from a few hookups where he insisted on practicing that specific skill. None of his sexual interactions could top this, being balls deep in any other girl wouldn’t even compare to the way she said his name.

“Can’t leave my girl hanging,” he teased as she moaned into the skin of his neck, forgetting to move her hips for a minute due to his fingers distracting her.

She chose to ignore the fact that he called her his girl, she could deal with that later. What she couldn't deal with later was the fact he was very clearly close to his orgasm. He had noticed as well, speeding up his pace on her clit and using his other hand to tweak one of her nipples. “Shit. I’m close. Gimme a sec, I’ll get you there.”

She chuckled softly at his insistence. Her eyes were filled with admiration or something of the sort. He almost came right there, he could handle her fucking his brains out but something about her being soft with him was what really got him going. “Don't look at me like that. I won't last.”

“You don't have to. Cum inside me. Please.” She was coming close to her peak as well, his talented fingers working wonders at ‘getting her there’ as he had phrased it.

Her offer was all it took for him to spill inside her. The thick ropes of cum pumping into her along with his lips on her neck forced her over the edge as well.

Usually after such exertion she would flop down onto a soft bed and bathe in the bliss of it all for a moment. However, they were in a tricky position so she just kind of sat there awkwardly staring at him.

It wasn’t as awkward for him. From where he was standing, or sitting would be the correct term, he had just had the best sex of his life and the girl he’d been in love with for six years was filled with his cum and sitting on his dick and keeping it nice and warm for him. “Fuck. I love you.” That shook her out of her post orgasmic haze instantly.

She shook her head, not looking at him as she started to cry. It was abrupt and he was worried he had done something seriously wrong but he continued because he needed her to know how he felt.

“You meant everything to me back then. You still do,” he admitted, his hands cupping her cheeks so she would look at him with her tearfilled eyes.

“Don’t say that,” she pleaded, begging him not to get her hopes up but he brushed her off like it was nothing.

“It’s true. I love you,” he repeated, this time with more meaning and passion if that was possible.

“Eds,” his old nickname slipped out of her mouth so easily. It hurt to hear the way she said it. Like she was cautioning him against continuing his confession, or almost like she was pleading.

“That night at junior prom, I wasn’t trying to fuck you. I was going to tell you about how I felt.” When he said that, all the puzzle pieces finally fit together in her head. But she had been telling herself for so long that he could never feel that way about her, it didn’t even compute that he was confessing his love for her over and over again.

“We’re not even 20. You can’t really think this is anything more than teenage hormones.” She was always cynical. He loved that about her but it was getting damn frustrating.

“You tell me? Do you love me?” he asked, finally turning the question back around at her. She was never a good liar.

“I can't-'' she tried to avoid the question but he cut her off.

“You’ve got my heart in your hand and I’m just asking you to break it. Do you love me?” She never realized how poetic he could be. He was always teatricial, but never like this. It made her think for a second that maybe he was serious.

Screw it, she figured. Why not? “Yeah. I do. I love you.”

He could already feel his dick hardening again at that admittance. And she could likely feel it too since he was still situated inside of her. “This isn’t going to sound very romantic, but do you want to go back to my place?” he asked hesitantly, way too timid for their current position. “Yeah I’d like that,” she replied before kissing him softly. It was slow and sweet, like they had all the time in the world. Because they did.

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction

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lunar-years · 4 months

Note

For the first sentence of a fic thing:

The first time Roy thinks nothing of it; the second he thinks it a coincidence – but the third time, and catching the studied nonchalance on Jamie and Keeley’s faces, he begins to grow suspicious. "And neither of you have seen it?" he repeats slowly, staring at each of them in turn with his most intense, patented glare, waiting for one of them to break.

Jamie's face remains completely stoic--impressive, actually. Usually he's first to crack. Keeley shrugs innocently and murmurs, "Guess you must've misplaced it again, babe...."

Roy snorts. Yeah. He'd believed that the first time, when he'd found it buried on Jamie's shelf buried amongst his many, many hair products. Roy must've confused the shelves one night. His eyesight is shit in the dark, after all. Then when he next went to use it, the thing was fucking broken, so okay. Shit happened. Order another, no big deal.

This time, though, the trimmer was brand-fucking-new. And he knows exactly where he placed it once he'd removed it from the packaging. "You know that this is important, right?" he growls. "I've got be at the club in like two hours. Looking professional."

He glances past their heads to catch a sight of himself in the mirror. He meant to get a real haircut, but after a few rounds of putting it off, it's gotten long enough now for the curls to really be coming back, in desperate need of a trim, and his beard looks utterly unruly to match. Altogether, he looks like he's an aspiring caveman instead of the fresh new manager of a Premier League team.

"Your beautiful curls aren't unprofessional," Keeley says crisply, arms crossed and looking all put out like he's offended her talking about his own damn hair. Jesus Christ. "Actually, Jamie found--"

Jamie is instantly at his side, holding out a bottle of curl shampoo. "Bit of this to reduce the frizz, lad, and some beard oil to tame you up a bit in the front...very professional, that. And if it happens to make you look dead sexy, too, well--" He shrugs and exchanges a look with Keeley, who nods encouragingly like he's really selling it. They're both ridiculous.

Roy rolls his eyes. "So you mean to tell me I haven't been able to shave in days because my trimmer keeps disappearing mysteriously, and Jamie just so happened to go shopping for fucking..." he takes the bottle Jamie's holding, "curl-defining shampoo in that same timeframe? By total coincidence?"

"Exactly!" Keeley says cheerfully.

"You know, two hours gives us plenty of time to try it out," Jamie adds nonchalantly, waving the shampoo. His eyes are fucking sparkling. He's gorgeous. He's always so fucking gorgeous. "Probably best if Keeley and I help you out. Gotta really massage it in to get the full effect. It will take all three of us. We should shower together!"

Keeley's heads bobs up and down enthusiastically.

"And my trimmer is--?"

"Oh hush," Keeley says, edging closer, "You can search for that later."

"...or not!" Jamie adds.

Yeah, he thinks, letting Keeley's deft hands work at tugging his shirt over his head. Or fucking not.

#thanks for sending!#something deeply unserious after the last one hahaha #roy kent depression curls i'm always thinking about you <3 #royjamiekeeley #roy kent #jamie tartt #keeley jones #ted lasso #my writing #my fics #my fanfics #drabble #ship post #asks #ask games #writing games #first sentence of a fic thing

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adoremexxs · 9 months

Text

Modern Hantengu Clone Headcanons

I’m procrastinating writing and I have SO many headcanons of these clones so I’m just going to share them. See if you can spot my favorite.

Sekido

Oh boy

I love him so much

He’s definitely the oldest of the “brothers” and I think everyone has honestly agreed with this

He’s 6’4

So, for facial features

I think Sekido has very sharp features

His jawline is as sharp as a knife

I think that his nose is more narrow and straight than his brothers

He has a mole under his right eye and a mole by his lips on the left side of his face

Perfect teeth

Takes great pride in his appearance because “first impressions matter” so he always dresses up when meeting someone important

sensitive skin, has to use expensive skin care brands and it makes him mad

Chest hair.

He doesn’t have a lot but he gets it waxed or if he doesn’t have time for a wax, he shaves it

Hates, hates smelling bad

If someone smells like B.O., he is offering deodorant to them

no shame at all

Keeps everything short besides his hair on his head

He considered cutting it once

Zohakuten’s haircut almost convinced him

He loves his beautiful locks though

He definitely is good at math and is majoring for business

If not business, he would become a politician

He likes cracking open a white claw and watching debates on the TV

In high school, he was on the debate team and in honors

He played football and did archery for his last two years

He also played soccer

Karaku and Urogi piss him off so much so he regularly goes to rage rooms

He smokes weed to calm down

Karaku introduced him to it

He goes to the gym regularly

He has an absolute dumptruck

Like it’s a level 3 gyatt

And huge thighs

He does not skip leg day

Meal preps

Can cook a 5 star meal

This makes Karaku and Urogi go over to his place to eat more than they should

He has a soft spot for cats

And Aizetsu

Aizetsu is his favorite sibling because he listens

Him and Karaku don’t get along because Karaku used to bring home slutty women and men and they would trash their house

Listens to rock

Def loves Three Days Grace and Slipknot

Doesn’t mind Odetari

Karaku made him listen

He loves GMFU by Odetari

Goes to cat cafes whenever stressed sometimes

He struggles with making friends, this showed in high school

He struggled a lot in making friends but Urogi and Karaku were extremely popular so they took him to events

Struggles with love life too

He’s so intimidating looking that he scared off most suitors

He’s just really shy and hoping to be loved

But at the same time, hates the idea of relationships

He doesn’t like being vulnerable

He just wants to be loved and not get hurt in the end

Wants 2-3 kids

Wants a daughter so he can spoil her

If he had a S/O, they would definitely get spoiled with gifts

Just please don’t break his heart

Karaku

Karaku, Karaku.

The second oldest

Also is 6’4

His facial features are a bit more feminine, his jawline is still sharp but his eyes are a bit softer

His nose is also perkier

LOVES spoiling himself

Invests in expensive hair products and skincare products

Has a morning and night routine

He also has little moles all over his body

Karaku’s face has 2 by his left eye and a 3 on his neck and one by his right ear

Gets a facial once a month

Absolutely no body hair anywhere

Besides legs and armpits

Had braces in high school and had to wear a retainer

Complained so much that Sekido whooped him

He likes taking care of his appearance but not the same way Sekido does

“It’s for the ladies and the men that want me!”

He models

Has been modeling since he was 17

Loves the attention he gets and the fans he has

Tried to convince the others to model too

It didn’t work

He takes amazing care of his body and works out with Sekido on the regular

Makes a competition on who can bench the most or squat the most

Spoiler, it’s Sekido

He played football in High School for his first two years

He partied a lot

And I mean a lot

Even hosted some

Sekido wasn’t happy

Him and Sekido have gotten into multiple fist fights and one time Karaku accidentally got so mad that he smashed a vodka bottle over Sekido’s head

Sekido had to go to the hospital after beating Karaku’s ass

Is in a lot of clubs and he honestly just shows up randomly to them

Listens to Odetari

“Look, don’t touch” is his anthem and as well as “Let me see ya move” by Lumi Athena

Loves Odetari and The Weeknd

Listens to Usher and Jacquees, literally any rapper known to man

He still partied and drinks a lot

It’s insane

If he spoils himself, he is spoiling his S/O with everything and as well as physical affection

They are his pfp on everything

Posts them regularly

He used to be a serial man whore and cheater

But they broke him out of it

Wants 3 kids

His favorite brother is Urogi

Aizetsu

Our precious boy, Aizetsu

6’3 and shy

He’s like a gentle giant

His nose is perky like Karaku’s and he has some freckles on his face

He doesn’t have that many moles

In fact

His skin is perfect

He has no moles on him

Aizetsu’s skin has a flare up during the summer sometimes and breaks out in the winter

So he has special skin care products

Karaku and Urogi tried to set Aizetsu up on many blind dates

Dated a popular cheerleader girl

She wanted to get with Karaku and Sekido

He was sad for days

Him and Urogi got matching hair cuts, they have short hair with their bangs in front

Doesn’t know how to take care of his hair

Karaku spoiled him for a month one time and bought him a facial, mani, pedi and took him to get his hair done

Aizetsu wears sweaters half the time

He has some muscle to him but his body is more lean and he gets bruised a lot

He has an lil dumpy too though

It’s all natural, baby

Sekido would worry about him all the time because Aizetsu doesn’t eat a lot

He cooks for his brothers sometimes and that’s it

Once Sekido yelled at him for not eating enough, he ate a bit more

Listens to Indie music, loves Steve Lacy and Faye Webster

Cries to “I know you” by Faye Webster

Me too tho king

Anyways

In high school, he played soccer and he was in the reading club

Like Sekido, he is an introvert

He struggles with making friends

His toxic high school girlfriend crushed his self esteem

Everyone used him to get to his brothers

So he is often excluded

He is also the middle child and the quietest out of all of them

Majoring in psychology

He suffers from depression

He doesn’t break down in front of his brothers

He cries late at night or in the shower

His S/O would have to be able to help him with his depression

Just give him physical affection and reassure him that you aren’t going to leave him

He wants 1-2 kids

He can’t handle dealing with his brothers all over again

Urogi

Urogiiiii

Youngest of the quadruplets

His nose is wider and perkier than the others and he has a mole by his left brow, left side of his face is a mole by his lips and then one of the other side of his lips

His body has them as well

Now he is jacked

He works out every day

He also is just insanely strong already

Loves, loves bird

He’s studying to be a veterinarian

He stands at 6’5, the tallest of the brothers

His birthday is actually a day later

He also almost died before he was born because his umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck

Party kid

He parties so much

Adrenaline junkie

“Life is too fun to be sitting on your butt and crying, Aizetsu!”

Loves, loves the zoo

He doesn’t know much about appearances

He doesn’t know how to take care of his hair

His teeth are absolutely perfect

His skin is somehow clear although he didn’t use anything

He uses St. Ives face wash

His skin never breaks out or flares up

Always had perfect skin

He doesn’t have chest hair but has a lot and I mean a lot of leg hair

He can’t cook

That’s why he goes over to Sekido’s

Him and Karaku are insanely close because they are alike

He did wrestling and soccer in highschool and still continues it in his college days

He did cut his hair

The long hair got in the way of wrestling so he cut it

It’s really wavy and his bangs are parted in the middle

He rarely ever ever gets mad

He’s really protective over Aizetsu, despite him being younger

gives his brothers bird facts all the time

Compares them to birds

Sekido is a cardinal and Aizetsu a blue jay

Karaku is a peacock and Urogi compares himself to a falcon

Has a lot of followers on tiktok and instagram because he posts bird videos and animal videos in general

The followers love them

has always been a ladies man

All the girls love him

It’s the charming personality of his and how sweet he is with animals

is supposed to be Karaku’s and Aizetsu’s wingman

He never talks bad about anyone unless they wronged his brothers

100% listens to Odetari with Karaku but mainly listens to hyper pop and rap and kpop

He loves his family a lot and is a big family oriented person

His S/O would have a lot of fun with him

He goes clubbing a lot but he won’t go without them

Its more fun with them there

He would also take them to work to show them his job

He books vacations to Africa to go on safaris

He’s a very fun and lovable partner

He wants 4 kids, he is praying quadruplets like him and his brothers

Zohakuten

Zohakuten is the youngest of the brothers obviously

He is 16

He’s 5’3, the shortest of them all

He’s intimidating to others and also really shy and reserved so no one really talks to him

Besides his bestie, Rui

Zohakuten is in band

He plays the drums

Has a drum set at home

Him and Rui are extremely close due to the fact that no one else likes to talk to him because he’s scary

Zohakuten is really into art too and draws on the regularly

Is known as the “Quiet Scary Kid”

He cut his hair short so he has his hair like Urogi’s and Aizetsu’s

His bangs parted in the middle and the rest of it being messy because he can’t take care of his hair either

Spends a lot of time drawing and drumming

He gets into fights regularly at school and it’s a surprise that he isn’t kicked out of band yet

He also plays soccer and it absolutely works in his favor because he scares people

He sometimes has brotherly bonding time with his brothers and go to the gym with them

He’s incredibly strong and it makes Karaku jealous because he had noodle arms when he was younger

Listens to Indie, Odetari, Hyperpop, Metal and basically everything

Depends on his mood

When he’s mad, he is blasting Metal

Has to use dermatologist products for his face

His favorite brothers are Sekido and Aizetsu

He sometimes plays minecraft and roblox with Urogi and Karaku

Karaku and Urogi sneak him into frat parties when they are not supposed to

He wears feathered purple earrings

He also wears a gold chain, he wears gold rings too

He loves gold

Like Urogi, his nose is wider and perky

It’s a bit more upturned than his brothers

Karaku has tried to wax Zohakuten’s eyebrows

Karaku got his ass beat

Karaku and Urogi come up with nicknames for Zohakuten

“Zo, Z, Zozo, Zoha, Zohaku, Haku, Ten, Zobo-“

“Shut the fuck up, you imbeciles.”

Rui is with him 95% of the time

He takes him everywhere because it’s basically his only friend

On Christmas, Karaku and Urogi got Zohakuten to dress up as an elf by promising to buy him a new dragon figure

Hates dating

Hates those cheesy couples in school that kiss each other in the hallways and basically have sex

Him and Senjuro lowkey hate each other

But that’s between them and stays between them because Senjuro is also Rui’s friend

#demon slayer #urogi #aizetsu #sekido #karaku #demon slayer karaku #demon slayer sekido #demon slayer aizetsu #demon slayer urogi #hantengu clones #hantengu #demon slayer headcanons #urogi headcanons #kny sekido #kny rui #kny zohakuten #zohakuten #demon slayer fandom

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hooked-on-elvis · 2 months

Text

Elvis escaped a crew-length haircut more than once before the army

It is widely known by the fans that one funny story of how Red West saved Elvis from getting his hair cut off by bullies when he was only a teenager attending the Humes High School in Memphis, Tennessee. For those who never heard/read this story before, well.. long story short, Elvis was kind of a misfit in High School because of the way he used to dress different from his mates. "He looked like a sore thumb," said Ronny Trout, a classmate who shared a workbench with Elvis in wood shop in school (as wrote by Peter Guralnick in one of his books on Elvis). While all the guys usually had crew cuts and dressed in jeans, Elvis had this "movie star" look. Apart from the flashy clothes — such as ascot ties and dress pants Presley is said to have worn while attending classes — he also would proudly show off his truck driver sideburns and a duck tail hairstyle around the hallways. Some of the kids in his school just couldn't stand it. Most of them thought Elvis looked weird, possibly they got the impression as if he was cocky or something but more likely they just found him strange, out of place. One day some guys corned Elvis in the bathroom and threatened to cut his hair right off. Red West came in just in time. Even tho they weren't friends yet, that selfless good deed of Red turned Elvis into a, let's say, fan of his. Presley was beyond grateful for the unexpected help. This was before Elvis was, you know, "Elvis". West and Presley became friends after this day, little by little - not immediately, and it turns out that a long, long term friendship between the two came out of that uncanny situation. At a point, Red West became part of Elvis' personal security guard and remained friends with him up until July 1976, a little more than one year previous to Elvis's death in August 1977. Anyway, Red's efforts only postponed Elvis' haircut. Presley actually had to surrender to the crew cut style in March 1958 when he was inducted into the U.S. Army. But did you know before the Army's intervention and after the High School incident, there was another time when Presley's hair almost was chopped off? That was during movie production of "Jailhouse Rock", in 1957.

The still photographs of Elvis wearing the short "Butch" wig were taken on Monday, May 13, 1957. William Tuttle (head of the make-up at MGM Studios) and his department produced very convincing results. This was the first time the wig was ready to be fitted, and the first scene shot using the wig was on May 20, scene 11 - Barber Shop. Elvis is wearing the wardrobe for Scenes 5 & 6 - Courtroom.

Having read the script for Jailhouse Rock, Elvis was fully aware that the storyline called for his character to be sent to prison, and was told by the studio that, to be authentic, he would have to get his hair clipped. Elvis set off a personal appearance tour, prior to reporting to MGM Studios in Hollywood. The short tour commenced on March 28, 1957. The first stop was Chicago, at a press conference at the Saddle and Sirloin Club at the Stockyards Inn that afternoon, when Elvis spoke to the assembled press. When the subject of his haircut for his new picture was raised, he revealed: 'When I get back to Hollywood, I'm gonna have my hair cut. They're gonna cut it down to crew length for this new movie. Personally, I don't care if they cut my hair, I don't think it makes much difference. Because it'll grow out again.'

March 28, 1957. Elvis Presley at a press conference at the Saddle and Sirloin Club at the Stockyards Inn, Chicago, Illinois.

Within a week, MGM Studios and producer, Pandro S. Berman, were swamped with four thousand letter and post-cards from Presley fans begging that the studio let their hero act with his original hair. "Don't Be Cruel - Don't Cut Elvis' hair," they demanded in varying terms. Some threatened to boycott the picture; some said they'd see it anyway because they'd always be loyal to Elvis - but they'd be "All Shook Up." It was decided something had to be done to save Elvis' hair and also alleviate the fans' feelings, so the Studio started to look at alternative ideas with tests quickly set up in the Studio make-up department under the stewardship of William Turtle, head of the make-up at MGM Studios. Elvis revealed the solution to columnist Aline Mosby, 'So now the studio has decided I'll wear a wig, a crew-cut wig, for the prison scenes.' During pre-production, tests were undertakes with the 35mm film camera, to establish any issue. It was realized by Director of Cinematography, Robert J. Bronner, that Elvis' hair required a red tint due to the black and white film. Elvis later confirmed this in an interview once filming had been completed: 'My hair will look the same, except it was reddened because in black-and-white it photographed like a cap instead of hair.'

The fans plea worked good this time but there's the old saying that goes like: "what's meant to be will be".

Elvis Presley gets his hair cut before entering the Army, at Fort Chaffee in Barling, Arkansas. Presley entered the service March 24, 1958 at Fort Chaffee Reception Station. Picture of the 23-year-old rock star and barber Pete Peterson.

On December 10, 1957 Elvis received a letter from the Memphis Draft Board notifying him he was up for the next military draft. Presley's fans, once more, confident that their pleas would be heard just as they were by the Hollywood people, begun sending hundreds of letters to certainly everyone they could find would be helpful on the matter. They begged, "Please, please, do not touch Elvis' hair!" — some of them even felt kinda "suicidal" about Elvis' hair being cut off. One of the fan letters addressed to then U.S. President, read: "Dear President Eisenhower, My girlfriends and I are writing all the way from Montana. We think it's bad enough to send Elvis Presley to the army, but if you cut his sideburns of, we will just die."

NO DEAL WAS MADE THIS TIME. On March 24, 1958 Elvis was inducted into the U.S. Army and finally had to surrender to the crew-haircut. Truth be told, his fresh unfamiliar haircut didn't affect a bit his exquisite beauty - if anything, Presley appealed even worse to his female audience as a soldier.

Well, that's it. There it goes the story of how it took at least three attempts, including one movie and the U.S. government, to finally get that famous sideburns and pompadour out of Elvis' pretty little head.

SOURCE: Excerpts from book "The Making Of Jailhouse Rock" (Book "Movie") by David English and Pål Granlund (2021).

#50s elvis #elvis presley #jailhouse rock #1957 #U.S. army #army elvis #1958 #elvis #military #elvis the king #elvis fans #elvis fandom #elvis history #us army #rock and roll history #elvis' haircut

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curator-on-ao3 · 6 months

Note

for the director's cut thing, i would LOVE to hear you talk about the light before dawn! (sorry if you've already done it lol) it's one of my absolute all time favourite pikeuna fics <3

Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Thank you so much, @belannaswlonkderfulworm!! ❤️ That’s so kind of you and deeply meaningful for me. 🥹

To explain: The Light Before Dawn lives in my heart. I started writing that multi-chap during Strange New Worlds’ first season and I think about it often with so much affection. I know fandom wisdom is people don’t like modern AUs, but I wanted to write it anyway. Something about that story just needed to be told.

I began by trying to figure out Una’s secret. I would have liked to have made her in the United States illegally, but then marriage could fix her problem and I didn’t want that pressure on her and Chris’ relationship. I also considered making Una trans, but I don’t feel qualified to write that experience. There was the option of making her a religious or ethnic minority, but then she would hopefully have a community and not be so alone. The idea of genetic engineering correlating to medical device implantation and ableism finally hit me and really resonated.

For Chris, my first idea was that he could be an equine therapist. But that didn’t work out geographically and, once I figured out Una’s secret, I also decided I didn’t want Chris in any kind of medical profession. (That’s why Joseph and Christine are barely in the story.) Making Chris a modern-day peacemaker seemed right.

Once I had the facts straight, the story had one rule — nothing bad could happen during the course of the narrative. This would be a story about emotional recovery from trauma. Even misunderstandings (like the one Una and La’an had) would be in the service of recovery. I feel like that came through, in part because one of the story bookmarks has the note “comfort in words.” I’ll tell you right now that there are times when I’ve had a shitty day, I look at or think about that bookmark and it helps me feel better that my words were able to comfort someone.

All that being said, there was so much I wanted to fit into that story and couldn’t:

I had this idea in my head that when Chris and Vina got divorced, Chris wore brown loafers with tassels to Family Court because he knew Vina hated those shoes … and he felt guilty at doing something so petty, but also free from trying to please her. As Chris made his way down the front steps of the court after the divorce was finalized, he nearly danced on the concrete with the shoes his wife — ex-wife — hated.

Speaking of Vina … there are songs on my fic playlist for Vina, a character who doesn’t even appear except for Chris mentioning her. But I have so many thoughts about Vina’s frustration with Chris, her pain at him pulling away from a life she thought was good. Vina, a financial planner, helps money make more money. She shops at chic stores and pays too much for haircuts. She moved to SoHo after the divorce and doesn’t really enjoy sex with her dates but does it to reassure herself that she’s “normal” and “fun” and “cool” because all of that is so desperately important to her. I hope she snaps out of her need to impress others, I really do, because Vina’s life could be better if she just lived it for herself.

I considered including that in the mornings when Chris’ light didn’t go on that he was at Judge Batel’s place feeling like absolute garbage. But then who discriminated against Una and cost Una her dream? It got too messy so I just left Batel out and I’m glad I did.

I was going to have the kitchen renovation company belong to Hemmer but when the show killed him, I nixed that.

At the last minute, I edited out a part where Una told Chris that when she was little and her parents would drive past the garbage dump, she would get scared they would drop her off there and leave her. But that was just too sad, even in the past.

In the universe of the story, Rukiya 100% lives to be an adult. There is no cygnokemia in New York City. After they read and run around at the park, Joseph and Rukiya go home to Debra and the family plays board games until it’s time for dinner.

In terms of good stuff, I’m really pleased with some of the details in that story — Una’s nail polish bottles, Chris’ Eagle Scout award (the highest award in Boy Scouts), those two discussing leaky scaffolding (a relatable New York City experience), the reveal of what happened to Gabriel Lorca. Also, I know I’m biased, but when Una set the stars at the planetarium to Mojave, California, so she could see what the sky looked like for Chris when he was a child at night, I think that’s so goddamn romantic of her.

I’m less pleased with my decision to have Una’s quick conversation in the mail room be with a nameless neighbor. My original thought was the neighbor could be any one of the Discovery women — Kat Cornwell, Michael Burnham, Phillipa Georgiou, etc. Meh. Then I wrote and deleted a whole section that made clear the neighbor was Christine Chapel. Maybe I should have kept that and removed the fleeting Chapel reference later. I’m not sure.

I stand by the Spirk joke at the end, though.

I also stand by Una not being a model patient. She’s mostly good about things, but she doesn’t always carry her card with her … just like a real person. And I am gleeful that Eagle Scout Mr. Moral Compass Christopher Pike uses the work printer for personal documents because, come on, we all do it.

Oof, I could keep talking about this story but I should stop. Thank you for this absolutely lovely opportunity, @belannaswlonkderfulworm, I’ve enjoyed every second of babbling about my beloved The Light Before Dawn. ❤️

Want more information about a fic I wrote? Send me an ask.

#fanfic director’s cut #i love asks #christopher pike #una chin riley #star trek strange new worlds #pikeuna #pikeuna fanfic #pikeone #pikeone fanfic #thank you thank you thank you #belannaswlonkderfulworm

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angelic-charlie-kelly · 6 months

Text

Joyce Kelly, Queen of Mermaids

Wrote this for a 'unconventional exploration of girlhood' assingment. I thought exploring Joyce's trans identity through the staple of girlhood that is playing mermaids at a public pool with a girl you never see again was a great way to do it.

For all my Joyce lovers, here you go.

Total word count: 1794

There's a girl standing next to him at the edge of the pool.

She bravely takes a couple steps back before diving in head first into the pool with awful form, splashing water all over Charlie. She does some flailing, broken attempts at underwater flips and dancing clearly trying to impress some imaginary audience. He follows her pink distorted bathing suit as she approaches the pool edge from under water. Finally she sticks her head above the water and holds on to the edge pool directly in front of him.

“Where's your bathing suit?” She asks, with all the curious audacity only children have.

Charlie looks down at himself, his swim trunks are hidden under the large long sleeve shirt he wore. “It’s under my shirt, my mom makes me wear it because of my freckles.”

“That's weird.”

“No, it's not!”

“Is too!” She lifts herself up onto the cement awkwardly and sits besides him. “Are you here alone?”

“Why do you care so much? And I’m just waiting for my friend to get here.”

“I’m not making fun of you, I’m here alone too. My mom went to some work thing, I think, and I’m bored.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and scoots away from her. “What does that gotta do with me?”

She kicked her legs in the water towards him, splashing him again. “Do you wanna play mermaids?”

“Is that like a swim race?” He kicked the water back at her causing her to giggle and cover her face.

“No dummy, we just play mermaids. I’m a mermaid and you're a mermaid.”

“That's weird.”

“You're weird. Come on, I’m so bored and you're the only other girl here.”

He looks at his reflection in the water. His hair is slicked down from his last swim and now rests curling at his shoulders, it really was time for a new haircut. His eyelashes are wet-clumped and he's rosy from the sun. It wasn't the first time he’d been mistaken for a girl, he guessed being round faced and short with a shrill voice just made him look vaguely girly.

He doesn't correct her.

“How do you play?”

“Okay so I come up with my mermaid character and you come up with yours and we pretend the pool is our sea house.”

“So, it's just pretend.”

“Yeah! Pretend. Okay so my mermaid name is Alice GlimmerShell and she’s a ballerina and she also has powers and she can talk to animals and she is the princess of all mermaids.” She scoots closer again and pulls and points at the pink frills of her swimsuit. “My tail is this color and it shines rainbows.” She says proudly.

He looks at her confused. “How can you be a ballerina with no legs?”

“Because I can!” She pouts and turns away from him before immediately turning back. “Okay your turn. What's your name?”

“Charlie.”

“No, your mermaid name, dummy.”

“I’m not a dummy, you're the dummy!” He uses his too long shirt sleeves to hit her over the shoulder, she grabs the sleeve and pulls him forward before gripping his hair and pulling. They both begin tussling on the ground, small hands smacking at each other awkwardly.

The lifeguard blows his whistle loudly. “Hey! You two break it up or I’m kicking you out!”

“Alice’s” hands untangle from his hair and he unclamps his teeth from her arm. They both huff as they separate but neither leaves, they simply sit down next to each other grumbling.

Charlie rocks himself lightly and plays with the edge of his shirt to calm himself down. Alice ignores him and continues her brooding.

His rocking stops and he thinks hard about her question. He could just be Charlie the Merman but that's boring since he can be that anyday. Chase? No, too sporty. Emilio? Too spanish. Robocop? He’d already used that before.

“Joyce.”

And like children, the argument is forgotten.

“That's an old lady's name.”

“You're an old lady!”

Her hands shoot up to his hair and he gets ready to bite but they are cut off by the lifeguard's whistle. “Strike two! One more time and you'll be banned from the pool for the rest of the summer!”

They huff only for a second then return to the subject without missing a beat.

“Okay, Joyce, what kind of mermaid are you?”

He smiles mischievously. “I'm the queen of all mermaids.”

Alice, peeved as she is, lets it slide. “Fine. But since I’m the princess I don't have to listen to everything you say because then I can like- uh- blast you with my magic and kill you.”

Joyce decides she can compromise with that.

Alice grabs her hand and pulls her into the water without warning. Joyce gasps and coughs as she swims above the water to grip the pool edge.

Alice swims away quickly and Joyce watches her wrestle some kids toy shark away, careful to avoid the lifeguards eyes. She splashes the kid and makes her escape back to the deep end where Joyce waited. Alice presents her with her new found treasure.

“Okay so this is the evil King Shark and in order to defeat him and save our kingdom we have to capture him again.” She threw the toy farther into the dive pool where only the adults swam. “And uh- um- the grown ups are his guards so we have to fight them away!”

Joyce laughed, suddenly feeling the spirit of the game. “Okay and how about this, whoever captures him first gets um… how about… they get wings?”

Alice gasped. “So they become a fairy mermaid!”

“And they become queen of the fairies!” She added enthusiastically.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She grabbed onto her shoulders and shook her wildly.

They locked eyes with grave intensity at their mission and dove down into the battlefield.

Alice planned strike attacks at the King Shark’s guards, scratching and pulling at the adults legs until they finally budged and moved out of her way. Joyce did her best to keep up, using her “tail” to kick them out of the center where the King Shark stood. It wasn't long until their coordinated attack cleared the enemy troops and they had the battlefield to themselves and the King Shark.

They each raced down the deep but only managed to get about half way down the 16 foot deep waters before they'd get tired and have to surface again.

Joyce reached the same point again and just as she made her way to the surface she felt something grab her hand.

Alice pulled her down with all her might. Joyce understood immediately then pulled her down too.

They each took turns propelling the other down deeper until the King Shark was in front of them. They held on to each other as they both reached for him, victory was quite literally within arms reach.

Joyce only grazed the King’s fin before suddenly being violently pulled by the waist. The force caused her to exhale the last bit of air that remained in her burning lungs.

In a moment, she reached the surface. Delirious and confused she kicked at the monster that trapped her while she coughed up the water she swallowed. She could hear Alice screaming angrily then a whistle.

Her vision finally cleared and she could see that the thing holding her captive was the lifeguard. He threw her over the edge of the pool, landing next to Alice who rushed to hug her side.

“Out! Both of you!” He yelled, crowding them against the burning cement. “You’re banned from the pool, I don't want to see you both here again!”

Alice cowared, her eyes filling with tears at the man's yelling.

Joyce felt herself become filled with indignant anger. The lifeguard had made Alice cry, and as Queen it was her job to protect her people. Without thinking she stood up quickly and charged at the lifeguards feet with all her weight, throwing him back into the water mid scolding.

She ran back and grabbed Alice’s hand, rushing away from the pool towards the picnic tables where they would be lost in the crowd. Alice ran along, gripping her hand for dear life.

They ran and ran until their legs gave out from the exhaustion of their mission, being berated, and their escape. They slumped under a beach umbrella, panting and out of breath.

They caught their breath and looked at each other incredulously before bursting into a fit of laughter.

“I can't believe you did that! Oh I bet he’s gonna be so mad when he comes out!”

“I know! It was awesome right! I, like, totally kicked his ass!” She threw herself back onto the beach chair. Alice pushed her over and took the space beside her.

“Oh totally, I bet he has like- like thirty broken bones now!”

“Forty broken bones!-”

“Mildred!” A woman's voice snaked through the crowd.

Alice sat up. “Oh shoot, that's my mom.”

Joyce laughed. “Mildred?! See that's an old lady's name.”

Mildred flipped the chair, pushing Joyce off who was still laughing. “It’s Milly okay? Only my mom calls me Mildred.”

“Mildred! You’re going to be in so much trouble, young lady!”

Milly sighed. “Okay I gotta go but next time we can play old ladies together. And I think I have a long sleeve bathing suit, I’ll sneak it in here so you don't have to use that trash bag.”

“You’re a trash bag.” Milly smiled, jumping over and hugging Joyce tight. Joyce hugged her back then felt a playful tug at her hair and a quick, grossly wet peck to her cheek.

“MILDRED!”

Milly let go and ran off finally, screaming goodbyes and promises of meeting again next week. Joyce happily waved her away and assured her she'd be back too.

“Whose that?” Mac’s voice made him jump.

Charlie sat up from the floor, looking up at his friend. “Just a girl I was um- we were playing tag.”

Mac looked at him confused. “Is she like your girlfriend or something? Because I swear I saw her kiss you-”

“What? No dude, gross.” Charlie replied nervously. “Girls are like totally gross, she was just uh- trying to bite me.”

“Huh. Weird.” Mac shrugged. “Okay so you wanna throw some hotdogs in the kiddie pool or something?” He reached down and pulled Charlie up. Charlie agreed and followed along.

The next day the whole town got the news that Jaime Nelson had drowned in the dive pool. The closure was quick and abrupt, too fast to reach him before the next weekend.

On a sunday afternoon, Joyce Kelly waited at the doors of a dive pool that would never open again.

#joyce kelly #small fic because i love her so much #she deserves her girlhood #iasip #charlie kelly

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positivelyapunovexponent-good · 7 days

Text

ugh. My hair has grown into a sensory nightmare mop and it’s once again gotten to the point that I can’t think about anything else. It prickles CONSTANTLY and with the weather getting warmer it’s going to become insufferable

I just want to buzz it all off. Just like I did when it was getting like this in March. But when I buzzed my head last year my mom had a conniption fit. Made all sorts of fucked up comments about how I looked like a Holocaust survivor (which would be a profoundly inappropriate and antisemitic comparison even if I wasn’t a Jewish conversion student). So… a month ago I acquiesced to her. I reasoned that I had a grad school open house and worried buzzing my hair wouldn’t make a good first impression because it’s not “professional”. So I bit the bullet made a haircutting appointment hoping I could get a nice clean masculine cut, maybe a fade or something, that still toed whatever line of respectability that would make my mom and my prospective research advisors happy.

Things went wrong as soon as I made my request to the stylist. She started making these distressed tutting noises until I backed down and just asked her to to trim it. And then the stylist tried to pressure me into waxing my eyebrows which… I have a deeply unpleasant personal history with being coerced into that. Barely stopped myself from running out of the establishment right there but… I really needed that haircut even if she wouldn’t take off as much as I wanted her to. So I just turned her down. But hey, at least my mom was happy. She’s been sending me compliments on how I look in photos for weeks now. She not only paid for my haircut but promised me that she’d pay for every haircut thereafter so long as I promised to never buzz off my hair again which… is honestly really generous. But she doesn’t understand. It’s not the just cost that makes haircuts deeply unpleasant experiences for me.

Haircuts are one of the least autism- friendly services I’ve encountered. The assault on the senses and feeling of people touching me and moving me and being out of control of my own body. The texture of the tarp thing and the way it makes me feel trapped. And then there’s the overwhelming hostility to gender nonconforming people that oozes out of those places. The coercion and the pressure and the constant reminders that society… kinda hates me for wanting to be comfortable in my own skin.

Simply put- I have rarely encountered an environment that that felt so consistently and targetedly hostile towards who I am.

So now I need a haircut. Again. Barely been a month since the last one but that’s what happens when the stylist refuses to take off more than a centimeter. I can’t concentrate on studying for finals. It prickles it prickles it prickles I need it GONE. But my mom is coming for my graduation in a few weeks and I know she’ll be livid. Going against my promise not to buzz my hair ever again AND ruining the photos in one fell swoop. I don’t know what to do.

fuck this shit

#Where’s the lesbian haircutter from that Alison Bechdel comic who makes house calls I need her #Holocaust mention cw #actually autistic #vent #personal

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1-siracha · 7 months

Text

my first-ish impression of the obey me characters- part 1 (older brothers)

I haven't played the game yet because i forgot my password to download stuff, so i only know obey me information from tumblr and wiki.

i think this ended up with me being a hater sorry to anyone whos likes these guys

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Lucifer

based on his character design half of the community probably calls him daddy

bro is mad ugly but i cant say shit because my haircut looks similar to that

i personally think the rope thing on his waist is massively hideous

i would strangle him with that i mean nothing

hes probably a massive asshole but everyone excuses it because he's hot (he's not i think you guys are blind)

i think i heard he tries to kill mc and idk man thats pretty fucked up ngl

like I DONT CARE IF YOURE TRAUMATISED STOP BEATING OUR ASS 💀

he is NOT a certified g

he looks like he beats up and abuses people and i do NOT stand for that

oh wait yeah he does that to mammon 💀

he also has a punchable face so

he probably looks at babies to make them cry

3/10 (3 points because im preparing ms for even worse characters)

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Mammon

ok what in the cowboy fuck is that

i dont like his fit that shit is nasty

what is that feathery thing on his waist?? a feather duster????

NOTHING MATCHES.

i just hate this fit so much

however

he is a certified g 💪🔥

my respects to bro

like he was actually nice to us?? and he actually cared about us?? and not tried to kill us?? damn thas crazy

also i feel sorta bad for him cuz he keeps getting shitted on by his brothers

hes dumber than a rock tho. like a trumpet- incredibly dense yet somehow the head is completely air. also loud as fuck and annoying sort of

hes ok but i just think he needs to stop getting his clothes from dollar tree

7/10

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Leviathan

OH MYG OD

LMOFOFOAOAFIASOFOOAF

BLUE HAIR AND PRONOUNS????????????? 😭😭😭😭😭😭

LIBERAL JUSTIN BEIBER LOOKIN ASS

once again the fit is disturbing me

why does his shirt randomly have a blue triangle??

tf is that collar thing?? why positioned straighter than the males in my school??

i feel like the jacket should be shorter

the runners?? who tf does bro think he is?? usane bolt??

colour scheme is sort of disorganised in my opin onion

only terrible people (me) wear headphones around their neck so uh red flag

PERSONALITY WISE.

im sorry but he sounds annoying as fuck i would clock him in the face

i cannot handle the 'i-i-i--i-i-i-i-im a gross otaku!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🤧' shit. he sounds like a pick me girl but with absolutely no confidence

there are 3 types of shy- terrorist, annoying, and genuinely nice

he's the annoying one.

BUT i feel like i would play splatoon with him and he would be pretty good at it so

4/10

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me lucifer #om! lucifer #obey me mammon #om! mammon #obey me leviathan #om! leviathan #obey me shitpost #well its sort of a shitpost idk what to call it

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theromaboo · 11 months

Note

Hi! What are your thoughts on the show domina?

Hello!

I apologize for being a little late to write this but I've recently been dubbing Peppa Pig in Latin so I've been a little busy.

How engaging it is: 9/10

Personally, my attention span is like 0. I really struggle to finish shows or books, so it's honestly extremely impressive that I managed to finish this show. I did get kind of bored at the last episode, but it's a miracle I only got bored at the last episode.

Character's appearances: 7/10

I absolutely love Domina's choice of actors. Everyone looks exactly like they look in my head. Apart from one person. Augustus! He doesn't look that bad in the later episodes; the only major thing I don't like is hair color. But in the first two episodes, I could not get over his hair. what is that haircut im gonna cry

I'm sorry, that is not Octavian.

I just don't know what happened. Like, they could've gotten any random blond twink off the streets to be Octavian and I would be happy. But they really had to make Octavian look like that, huh.

But I do have two things I like about the young Octavian. Number one, his actor is actually the right age for once. The actor is in his twenties, so he's actually around Octavian's age at the time. Which is an actual miracle. Movies always use much older actors for people like Octavian and Britannicus. Number two, he's much smaller than Agrippa! Eeeeeee! I give that detail the 100% historically accurate stamp!

Which leads me to Agrippa. HJKFDKJHFSKS I love the actors they got for Agrippa. Both young Agrippa and old Agrippa, they look perfect! Words can not describe how much I love Agrippa's physical appearance in Domina.

Meanwhile, for older Augustus, I can look at him and go "Huh, I understand that this is Augustus" but I don't like his appearance.

I like how everyone else looks. Tiberius is a little too hot to be Tiberius, ngl.

Dialogue: 8/10

A lot of people complain that all the characters use the f word all the time which is anachronistic because the word "fuck" was invented after ancient Rome or some other dumb reason like that. But the fact they are speaking in English is anachronistic! I'm sure if the ancient romans had that word they would've used it all the time. Anyway, my only problem with the entire thing is that they literally don't use any other swear word. Come on, if the ancient Romans had English, I'm sure they would be more diverse in their choice of swears.

Overall, not counting their overuse of fucks, I quite like the dialogue. I'm still thinking of this part:

[Context: Augustus is really sick and was "speaking" with the dead]

Augustus: I just saw my mother.

Livia: Your mother? How is she?

Augustus: Oh, you know. Dead.

Augustus and Agrippa: 4/10

They hug a few times, I guess. And they're cute together sometimes. And occasionally they just have a moment that reminds me that they're besties. But it's not enough for me. I know I'm sounding picky or critical but you'd understand if you watch it. I'd actually like to show you some statistics.

(by the way, i was an ABOSLUTELY AWFUL data collector. there is no guarantee that this is going to be 100% correct, but it's close enough)

In the Domina fandom of AO3, there are around 3 fics where Agrippa is shipped with Octavian and around 8 fics where he is shipped with someone else.

Meanwhile, in every fic with Agrippa, excluding ones in the Domina fandom, there are around 22 fics where Agrippa is shipped with Octavian and around 5 where he is shipped with someone else.

Something is clearly wrong here.

(I'll probably make another post about these statistics and in that post I will count better so I'll know for sure what the numbers are. But for now, these are the numbers I counted but you shouldn't put too much faith in them)

Historical Accuracy: ???? I forgot but I think it wasn't bad.

Well, of course, Domina is very Livia-centric, so I shouldn't expect many good Augustus and Agrippa moments. But that's pretty much what I signed up for. I would like some more Augustus and Agrippa. I'm not even close to finishing Masters of Rome, but I quite like how they were written in it (apart from the MILLION times Colleen just had to remind the audience that augustus and agrippa were Totally Not Gay. listen, i heard you the first time) So maybe the writers of Domina should've taken inspiration from there.

But I'm not really mad though. This is just a little personal thing that I would've liked to see. But Domina can do whatever it likes. And there *are* cute Augustus and Agrippa scenes in Domina. Just not many. It's fine.

I didn't watch for the historical accuracy, so I honestly forgot if there were any big issues or not. But, it's a drama, not a documentary, so I'm a lot more lax. I'm totally fine with them adding new characters and changing up events as long as they don't make a historical mistake that makes me cry (if the characters of domina went to the colosseum, i would honestly cry) It's a drama. As long as it isn't pretending to be factual, I'm fine with them taking artistic license. But if you were watching for the SHEER accuracy of EVERY event, you might not like it.

Family friendliness: 2/10.

It's not a bad thing that it got such a low number, but I'm just saying that you shouldn't watch Domina with your mom or your kids or something. I'm pretty sure only actual porn has more sex than Domina does. If you watched HBO Rome, you'd understand. And like, there's no warning. One scene is totally normal and the next scene is gay sex.

I think I should do math about this. How many sex scenes are in each episode of Domina? (and hbo rome if i got the time) And what's the average amount of sex scenes per episode? I'm guessing 7. Reblog with which number you're guessing! (guys if you actually reblog with which number you're guessing I will actually be forced to calculate it so make sure you do)

General prettiness: 10/10

The entire show is so beautiful. I could take any screenshot and make it my phone background or something.

Overall: 8/10

I managed to finish it, and I quite enjoyed it. I love how Agrippa looks. I love how beautiful every scene looks. Storytelling-wise, I'd say it was good. My main problem is Octavian's appearance. But it isn't really a big groundbreaking problem (okay actually young octavian is an earthshattering sin. the ghost of julius caesar himself will haunt you forever if you can look at him and go "this is fine") And I'd also like more Augustus and Agrippa scenes. But overall, I'd recommend this show.

#domina sky #ancient rome #livia #emperor augustus #emperor tiberius #tiberius #gaius octavius

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coolx2-nodoubt · 2 years

Text

ꕥ HAIRCUT ꕥ

╰┈➤Pairing: Duke Leto Atreides x GN!Reader

Warning: Kissing scene & Inunsiation of sex

A/n: This is my first drabble. It was fun writing this. Got this idea from @lavenderotpprompts. Enjoy my lovely readers!!

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

"We have people specially for this position my love, you really don't have too."

"But I really want too babe"

You turn your head look at him with an raised eyebrow.

"Or is it because you don't trust me?"

He looks up at you, seeing you have stood up from your previous position walking up towards him, straddling him with each of your knees on both sides of his hips, settling down on his lap. He instinctively places his rough hands on your waist.

"It's not that I doubt your skills love, but why would you want to do it?"

You start to unconsioucly play with one his curls with your fingers.

"My Duke, if you haven't already noticed. I'm in love with your curly, salt&pepper hair. And I'm not very fond of the idea of someone else touching your hair other than you and me. "

He looks up at you with a wide grin before pulling you in for a kiss. His lips were soft, almost silken, and pillowy against your own. You pressed your body flushed against him, trailing your hands up to his hair tugging it back, pulling a loud groan out of him. While his hands are roughly placed on your hips, enough to leave bruises. Moving your hips back and forth on his groin. He then dives right back in on your neck leaving bite marks all over it. Realising what's gonna happen, you suddenly pull back..

"Before this turns into something else. I should also let you know that I have plenty of experience on doing haircuts from back when I was a child. My father always needed my help on doing it. And I must say, I'm very adequate at it."

He hesitates for a moment but he eventually gives in. So you quickly remove yourself from him to get ready.

He settles down on a chair that you have brought before placing a gown around him. You sprayed his hair with water and started snipping away. It didn't took you long to be finished with his hair. Swiftly removing the gown. You hand him a mirror so he could look at himself.

"Et voilà! I'm done, my Lord."

He opens his eyes slowly excited to see what you've done to his hair. He lifted his arm to look at himself in the mirror.

He looked astonished.. furthermore impressed. Running his hand through his hair.

Slithering your arms from behind placing it on his broad shoulders, you asked.

"What do you think Babe? Is it to your liking?"

He looked at you through the mirror with a smirk, placing the mirror down, he took your hands and turned around in his chair.

"Love, it's amazing I love what you've done to my hair. It has to be said I look quite stunning thanks to you."

"You're welcome babe. And yes you do look quite handsome."

Leto stood up from his chair, pulling you in by your waist, kissing the crown of your head.

"Now that I have you, I don't see any need of Gabriel"

He chucklels while you playfully hit his chest, looking up at him

"Should we continue from where we left of.."

THE END

Thx for reading, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

#dune #duke leto atreides #duke leto x you #duke leto x reader #oscar isaac #💚💚💚#haircut

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tobitofunction · 2 years

Text

Oh Baby Part 15

sorry for taking so long, started college again and I have some big projects already

Part1 Part2 Part3 part4 part5 part6 Part7 Part8 Part9 Part10 Part11 part12 part13 part14 part16 part17 part18

*found on Pinterest

You stroked Daichi’s face gently as he rested, the swelling in his face has calmed down but now a dark bruise covered half his face. Daichi leaned into your touch with a sigh,“ What time is it?” he said softly,” 1 o’clock” you said looking at the clock which was hung above the door,” So I have been sleeping for half an hour” he said pinching the bridge if his nose,” Yep, Ukai was glad. He wanted you to rest, he talked to your parents, they wanted to come here but I managed to talk them out of it” you said,” Thank goodness, I couldn’t handle mom foundling over me at this moment” he joked carefully getting up,” How’s the game going?” you shrugged,” No clue, I only left once and that was just because someone kicked me in the bladder” you said looking down at your stomach,” Little troublemaker” Daichi said tapping your belly,” He be here so soon and we haven’t even thought of a name yet” you said,” I have” Daichi said making your eyes widen,” Really what is it?” Daichi was about to open his mouth when the door swung open,” Oh hairline, your still one piece I see. From how depressed prison haircut looked one can think that you joined Casper the friendly ghost” your former cheer coach said,” What are you doing here?” you asked surprised,” Well because someone decided to celebrate thanksgiving early this year, with a turkey in the oven and which made put someone with less charisma than a TikToker turned musician on top the pyramid which ended which ultimately made us loose for the first time since I came to school. So as revenge I decided to come here and throw unpopped popcorn at Karasuno” she said,” Wow” Daichi said trying to comprehend what was being said while you were thinking if you should be insulted by her comparing your baby to a thanksgiving Turkey,” You are okay though right?”,” Yeah, it’s nothing, the nurse just wants me to stay just to be sure” Daichi said making her nod,” Good to hear, and you seem rounder than ever”,” Yeah it feels like he’s ready to be born any second now” you said smiling down at your belly,” Well if you haven’t picked a name for the soon to be walking sperm yet I say Sue”,” Sue?” you asked,” Yep that’s my first name”,” But he’s a boy?”,” and? Isn’t your generation all about breaking gender norms” she said with a shrug, before getting up,” Well I hope to see you soon hairline. I will be the one throwing unpopped popcorn at you” she said before vanishing,” Well that was interesting” you chuckled looking at Daichi,” I’m always fascinated by how she comes up with those Nicknames and if I should be insulted or if I should just let it go” he shrugged before throwing his legs over the side of the bed, the tip of his toes grazing again the floor,” Come here” he said holding out his arms, you didn’t have to be told twice and snuggled into Daichi’s embrace, “ I love you so much” he said kissing your forehead, his hands massaging your back,” Feel good baby?” he asked making you nod into his chest,” So what was your baby name idea” you asked Daichi, face still buried in his muscles chest,” I thought... I will tell you later, don't really want to tell you the name of our son in the nurse's room” he chuckled patting your head gently,” Fine, I wait. How does your face feel?” you asked,” Hurts less... it wouldn't hurt at all if you just kissed it better” you looked up at him and saw a cheeky smile on his lips,” Mmmh, sure” you said before gently placing your lips on his bruise, a small hiss left Daichi’s lips which made your eyes snap towards him,” Don’t stop, please” he begged.

Soon Daichi felt a lot better, but instead of joining his friends he stayed behind and watched their current match, he was impressed with how his teammates are holding themselves against their opponents and wasn't surprised when they won, meaning they can play against Oikawa again,” You ready?” you asked straight out his jersey,” Get ready to give me victory kiss” he teased with a wink before walking over to Oikawa,” Ready to lose?” Oikawa teased,” You should ask yourself that”,” Good to hear that you are confident Sawamura, you tell your son on how you confidently lost..ow” he hissed at Daichi squeezing his hand harshly,” I will tell my son, how we won”,” One way or another, I know you be a good father, you already are a good Captain. So good luck” Oikawa said before walking over to his team,” He really likes being hated and loved at the same time, doesn't he?” Daichi said feeling that you are behind him,”I like him, he can be really sweet if you talk to him long enough” you quickly pressed a kiss against his cheek,” Good luck Dai”,” Y/N, can I get a good luck kiss as well” Noya said,” Me too” Tanaka said pushing his friend aside,” No” you said walking towards Kiyoko,” I love it when she rejects me” Tanaka said making the libero nod,” You better get your butts ready or you can get ready for 10 hill sprints once we get home” Daichi warned making the two boys tense.

The game was a rollercoaster of emotions for everyone involved, one-minute Karasuno was ahead and the next Aoba Johsei pull out wild in form of a bleach blonde buzz-headed player. You watched Daichi, his body moving in such a memorising way.” Your drooling” Kiyoko giggled beside you making your cheeks heat up,” Do you think they make it?”,” Yes” she said simply watching Tanaka slam the ball down making Karasuno win another point,” Their 16 seems like a double-edged sword, they either gain a point or lose one” you said,” Oikawa seems to know that as well and started to use him more wisely or more he uses Iwaizumi to get 16 under control” Ukai said looking towards you just as you received a kick in the spine,” Everything okay?”,” Yeah was just kicked in the spine” you said rubbing your back.

After what feels like an eternity of waiting and hoping, Karasuno won. Daichi ran to you and hugged you as tightly as he could.” You're going to play Shiratorizwa. You in going to the final Dai, you all are” you smiled happily pecking his lips,” I can't believe it” he mumbled,” So you have a story to tell you son now” Oikawa voice said from behind you,” You played well Toru, your volleyball career isn't over yet, I hope you know that” you said as Daichi wrapped his arm around your waist,” I know it’s not over but for the other third years... I’m not sure-” he looked behind saw his teammates holding back their tears or drying them with the back of their hands, he sighed and glanced at the floor before looking back at you,” Anyways, your rounder than ever before. I assume the little player will be born soon. Any name ideas?” he hummed,” Well Daichi said he had one,” I thought of Haruto”

Haruto- flying

#daichi sawamura #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi x you #daichi x fem reader #haikyuu x reader

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anonymousewrites · 2 years

Text

A Study of the Heart and Brain (Book 1) Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Pink Victim

(Y/N) let their head hit the window of the cab as London went by. Sherlock sat next to them, and by him sat John. Sherlock glanced over and, seeing (Y/N)’s head on the glass window, he reached over and tipped their head onto his jacket shoulder to make them more comfortable.

John watched curiously. For a man so seemingly disconnected from the world around him, John thought Sherlock was being awfully caring. “So, you’re fostering them?”

Sherlock, already making the connection that Mike told John they were related, said, “Yes.” He wouldn’t shy away from the truth. He was fostering them. He did care about them, in his own way.

(Y/N) glanced at him before returning to people watching out the window.

John nodded. “Alright.”

“You have other questions,” commented (Y/N), hearing it in his voice.

“Yeah, where are we going?”

“Crime scene, next,” said Sherlock.

“Who are you two and what do you do?” asked John.

“What do you think?” said (Y/N), shifting to look at him, enjoying the conversation now.

“I’d say private detective, but…” John trailed off. “But the police don’t consult private detectives.”

“I’m a consulting detective. Only one in the world, I invented the job,” said Sherlock. “(Y/N) is my protégé.”

“What does that mean?” asked John.

“It means that whenever the police are out of their depth—“

“So, always,” interjected (Y/N).

“—they consult me,” said Sherlock.

“But the police don’t consult amateurs,” said John.

Sherlock, now with a reason to show off, looked at him. “When I first met you, I said, ‘Afghanistan or Iraq?’ You seemed surprised.”

“Yes, how did you two know?” wondered John.

“We didn’t know, we saw,” said (Y/N). “You stand and have the haircut of a soldier, but you mentioned studying at Barts with Mike when you came in. That suggested you were an army doctor. Your face is tan but only to where a stuff color and jacket sleeves would hit you, meaning you were abroad but in a uniform, not sunbathing. Your limp affects you when you walk and have people mentioning it, but when you’re just standing, you forget about it and move like it isn’t affecting you, so it’s at least a little psychosomatic. That also means that you were in a traumatic event when you got it. Put it all together and you get a wounded in action army doctor from either Afghanistan or Iraq.”

“Sherlock said I had a therapist,” said John, frowning. He was impressed and a little disconcerted by how easily the teenager had pulled his past apart, but he wanted to understand more of how the pair came to their conclusions.

“You’ve got a psychosomatic limp—Of course you have a therapist,” said Sherlock.

He straightened, ready for his turn to show his intelligence. He liked exercising (Y/N)’s partly because it threw people off when a teenager, often overlooked by adults, figured out so much and also partly because he was proud of how far they’d come and how much more confident they were now as compared to two years ago.

“Then there’s your brother,” said Sherlock. “(Y/N) didn’t have a chance to see your phone. May I?” He held out a hand, and John handed it over. “Your phone. It’s expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player, but you’re looking for a flatmate—you wouldn’t waste money on this. It’s a gift then. Scratches, not one but many.” He pointed them out. “It’s been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me wouldn’t treat his one luxury item like this, so it had a previous owner. Next bit’s easy. You know it already: the engraving.”

Harry Watson

From Clara

xxx

“Harry Watson: Clearly a family member who’s given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man’s gadget. Could be a cousin, but you’re a war hero who can’t find a place to live. Unlikely you’ve got an extended family, certainly not one you’re close to, so brother it is,” concluded Sherlock.

Seeing John’s attention totally in his grasp, Sherlock continued proudly. “Now, who’s Clara? Three kisses says it’s a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. She must have given it to him recently (this model is only six months old). Marriage in trouble then—six months on and he’s given it away. If she’s left him, he would have kept it. People do.”

“Sentiment,” interjected (Y/N), nodding. They had seen many kids in the children’s home that held onto objects from their parents if they had known them before coming there. On dark nights, (Y/N) would wish they had such a thing to remember their family by, but they had nothing. Their mother had abandoned them and then lost herself to drugs. In a way, it was best that (Y/N) didn’t have any items to remember her by. However…the sentimental part of (Y/N) wished they had the fond memories some of the other kids had of their parents.

(Y/N) shook the thoughts from their head. They didn’t need a family. They had Sherlock. And they had good memories with him. And he wasn’t going to abandon them. And that was that. No matter that (Y/N) wished for the affection they tried to avoid thinking of. No matter that (Y/N) couldn’t put their sentimentality aside no matter how much they tried; they could only keep their face calm and collected. No matter.

(Y/N) focused back in on Sherlock’s words. “But no, he wanted rid of it,” he was saying. “He left her. He gave the phone to her. That says he wants you to keep in touch. You’re looking for cheap accommodations, but you’re not going to your brother to help. That says you have problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife, maybe you don’t like his drinking.”

“How could you possibly know about the drinking?” wondered John in astonishment.

“Shot in the dark,” said Sherlock.

“Good one, then,” said (Y/N).

Sherlock handed the phone to them. “Try it.”

(Y/N) took a moment to examine the phone in the passing streetlights. “Charging port,” they concluded finally. Sherlock nodded in encouragement. Emboldened, (Y/N) continued, “Tiny scuff marks are around the port. That means shaking hands whenever someone plugs it in. A sober man’s phone rarely has them, but a drunk man’s phone always does.” They handed it back to John.

“There you go, you see, you were right,” said Sherlock.

“I was right?” John was confused and still astounded at the deductions. “Right about what?”

“The police don’t consult amateurs,” said Sherlock with a sharp smirk.

There was a pause as John absorbed everything he had just been told. “That was…amazing.”

Sherlock and (Y/N) blinked. That reaction was not something they would have deduced in a million years. “You…think so?” asked Sherlock uncertainly.

“Of course it was,” said John matter-of-factly. “It was extraordinary, quite extraordinary.” He glanced at both of them.

“That’s not what people usually say,” remarked Sherlock wryly.

“What do people normally say?” asked John.

“Piss off,” answered (Y/N) with a grin.

The cab stopped at Lauriston Gardens, and the three stepped out. In the night’s streetlights, the police lights’ blue and red flashes were tinged orange. They walked up beyond the cars to the police tape.

As they strolled, Sherlock asked John, “Did we get anything wrong?”

“Harry and me don’t get on, never have. Clara and Harry split up three months ago, and they’re getting a divorce. And Harry is a drinker,” said John.

“Spot on, then,” said Sherlock proudly. “Didn’t expect to be right about everything.”

John smiled to himself. “Harry is short for Harriet.”

(Y/N) groaned. “Harry is your sister.”

“Look, what am I supposed to be doing here?” asked John as they reached the police.

“Sister!” exclaimed Sherlock in annoyance.

“No, seriously, what am I doing here?” asked John.

“There’s always something,” sighed (Y/N).

They arrived at the police tape, but before they could step under, Donovan appeared. (Y/N) sighed inwardly.

“Hello, Freak, Freakling,” she said with her usual snippiness.

“We’re here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade,” said Sherlock.

“Why?” Donovan was annoyed with their mere presence.

“We were invited,” stated (Y/N).

“Why would he want some freaks here?” asked Donovan condescendingly. Her eyes were on (Y/N), clearly delivering the message that they didn’t belong there.

“I think he wants us to take a look.” Sherlock stepped forward with a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “Clearly, he thinks some freaks are of better use than you.” He lifted the police tape, and (Y/N) ducked under.

Donovan huffed. “Well, you know what I think?”

“Nothing much,” remarked (Y/N) coldly.

“But I know you didn’t make it home last night,” said Sherlock.

Donovan bristled. “And who’s this?” She looked appealingly at John.

“Colleague of ours,” said Sherlock.

“Doctor John Watson,” said (Y/N). “John, this is Donovan. We’re here to do her job.”

“A colleague?” Donovan was incredulous. “How did you two get a colleague? Did they follow you home? Or did the Freak pick you up off the street like he did the Freakling?”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “The only one who is on the street was you this morning. ‘Walk of shame,’ I’m told it’s called.”

“Would it be better if I waited here?” asked John awkwardly.

“Nope,” said Sherlock and (Y/N). Sherlock held up the police tape to let John in.

Donovan, scowling, spoke into her radio to Lestrade. “Freaks are here. Bringing them in.”

Once again, as the group began to head in, they were stopped by a man exiting in a protective plastic suit.

“Ah, Anderson, here we are again,” greeted Sherlock with no warmth.

Anderson looked at them with distaste. “It’s a crime scene. I don’t want it contaminated. Got it?” He glared at (Y/N) (he was of the mind children could only be trouble).

“Quite clear. And is your wife away for long?” asked Sherlock “innocently.”

John was struck by how this was the second time someone was aggressive to (Y/N) and was rebuffed by Sherlock. For the amount of disdain and seemingly uncaring temper the detective gave off, John thought that he seemed to legitimately care for (Y/N). It made John like Sherlock just a little bit more.

“Oh, don’t pretend you worked that out. Somebody told you that,” spat Anderson.

“Your deodorant did,” said (Y/N), their eyes sparking with mischief behind their facade of casua(L/N)ess.

“My deodorant?”

“It’s for guys.”

“Of course it’s for men, I’m wearing it,” said Anderson hotly.

“So is Donovan,” said (Y/N).

Anderson paled and whirled to look at Donovan, who was looking equally guilty and shocked.

Sherlock, awfully pleased with himself and (Y/N), grinned. “Oooh, and I think it just vaporized. Let us in, will you?”

Anderson, now red in the face, scowled. “Now look: Whatever you’re trying to imply—“

“We’re not implying anything,” said (Y/N) with faux innocence. “Donovan probably just came around for a friendly chat and just happened to stay over. And she seems to have scrubbed your floors, going by the state of her knees.”

Anderson and Donovan exchanged horrified glances as their secret was exposed. John looked awkwardly between them as he followed (Y/N) and Sherlock into the house.

Lestrade was at the bottom of the stairs pulling on a white coverall. Catching sight of (Y/N), Sherlock, and John, he said, “You need to wear one of these.” John obeyed, but (Y/N) and Sherlock didn’t. Lestrade, already used to them, just went on with his job. “Who’s this?” he asked, looking at John.

“John Watson,” said (Y/N).

“He’s with us,” said Sherlock. “So where are we?”

“Upstairs,” said Lestrade as he led the way. “I can give you two minutes.”

“May need longer,” said Sherlock. He knew that in the end Lestrade would have to listen to his requests since he needed Sherlock’s help.

�� “Her name’s Jennifer Wilson, according to her credit cards. We’re running them now for contact details. Hasn’t been here for long. Some kids found her,” said Lestrade.

Poor kids, thought (Y/N).

Lestrade stopped in the doorway of a room where a woman in all pink from her head to her feet lay face down on the ground. Next to one hand was “Rache” scratched into the floor.

(Y/N) and Sherlock crouched next to the body and began looking Wilson over. Observations jumped out at (Y/N), and they took a deep breath as they were inundated with facts. Behind them, John and Lestrade shifted. (Y/N) squeezed their eyes shut as the data from them flooded in as well. They could hear John and Lestrade wondering whether they would actually figure anything out, and it was distractingly anxiety inducing.

Sherlock noticed and glanced at John and Lestrade. “Shut up,” he said.

“I didn’t say anything,” said Lestrade exasperatedly.

“You were thinking. It’s annoying,” said Sherlock. He drew the questioning towards himself, allowing (Y/N) to focus better.

Conclusions: Serial affairs, unhappy marriage, social media influencer, not here for long, writing “Rachel,” from somewhere rainy and windy…

“Got anything?” asked Lestrade.

“Not much,” said Sherlock.

“She’s German,” said Anderson with superior condescension. “ ‘Rache’ is German for revenge, she could be trying to tell us something—“

Sherlock shut the door in his face. “Yes, thank you for your input.”

“So she’s German?” remarked Lestrade.

“Nope,” said (Y/N), shaking their head. “From out of town, not staying in London long.”

“Returning to Cardiff after one night,” said Sherlock, nodding.

“Ah, Cardiff.” (Y/N) snapped their fingers, making the connection. They had gotten distracted by an article on the effects that the recent domestication of cats had on the longer domestication of dogs and their evolution. They had barely glanced over the weather reports from other parts of England. “Right.”

“Sorry, am I missing something?” John frowned.

“What about the message, though?” questioned Lestrade.

“Dr. Watson, what do you think?” asked Sherlock, gesturing to the body.

“Of the message?”

“Of the body,” said (Y/N).

“Wait, no, we have a whole team right outside,” said Lestrade.

“They won’t work with us,” said Sherlock.

“I’m breaking every rule just letting you bring a teenager in here,” argued Lestrade, but he was already losing steam.

“You need us,” said Sherlock as if it was obvious.

“Yes, I do,” admitted Lestrade. “God help me.”

For all that they ragged on him, Lestrade did have better sense than most of Scotland Yard. It was why (Y/N) still respected him more than they did other adults.

“Dr. Watson.” Sherlock motioned for John to go forward.

“Help yourself,” said Lestrade, shrugging. He opened the door and shouted out, “Anderson, keep everyone out for a couple of minutes.”

John knelt next to the body and glanced at the pair of detectives watching him. “Well? What am I doing here?”

“Helping us make a point,” said Sherlock.

“I’m supposed to be helping you pay rent,” said John.

“This is more fun,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

“Fun? There’s a woman lying dead,” said John exasperatedly.

“Perfectly sound analysis, but we were hoping you’d go deeper,” said Sherlock teasingly.

John sighed in resignation and looked over the body. “Asphyxiation, probably. Passed out, choked on her own vomit. Can’t smell any alcohol on her. It could have been a seizure, probably drugs.”

“You’ve read the news. You know what it was,” said (Y/N).

“What, she’s one of the suicides?” John’s eyes widened. “The fourth…?”

“Sherlock—two minutes, I said. I need anything you’ve got,” said Lestrade.

“Victim is in her late thirties, probably does something professional in the media if you go by her shocking taste in pinks. Traveled for Cardiff and intended to stay in London for one night,” said (Y/N).

“Obvious from the size of her suitcase,” said Sherlock, nodding.

“Suitcase?” Lestrade frowned.

Sherlock continued the deductions. “Suitcase, yes. She’s been married at least ten years, but not happily. She’s had a string of lovers, but none of them knew she was married.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, if you’re just making this up!” Lestrade was frustrated because he couldn’t follow the logic (Y/N) and Sherlock had used to come to their conclusions.

“Her wedding ring is at least ten years old, but unlike the rest of her meticulously clean jewelry, it’s dirty. The inside is rubbed clean like someone has taken it off repeatedly. She pretended to be single while having affairs in an unhappy marriage,” explained (Y/N).

“She clearly doesn’t remove it for work going by her impractical nails, and she’d never sustain the fiction of being single over that amount of time, so more likely a string of affairs,” said Sherlock.

“That’s brilliant!” exclaimed John.

“Cardiff?” asked Lestrade, still bewildered.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” asked Sherlock.

“Not obvious to me,” said John, confused.

Sherlock blinked at the pair of men. “Dear God, what’s it like in your funny little brains? It must be so boring.”

“Her coat: it’s slightly damp, so she was somewhere with heavy rain in the last few hours. However, there hasn’t been any here in London. Under her coat collar is damp, too, so while she has an umbrella in her pocket, it wasn’t used. That suggests strong winds on top of the rain,” said (Y/N). “Not here for long, just an overnight stay, so can’t have traveled very far, plus her coat is still drying.”

“So, where has there been heavy rain and strong winds within a close radius of that time? Cardiff,” said Sherlock, showing his weather app as evidence.

“That’s fantastic!” exclaimed John.

Sherlock, rather awkwardly for his usual self-assuredness, said, “Do you know you do that out loud?” He wasn’t used to having someone be so…pleasantly impressed.

“Sorry, I’ll shut up,” said John.

“No, it’s…fine,” said (Y/N). They had to admit, their sentimental brain leapt at the praise. (Unfortunately, the lack of proper parental figures and encouragement in their earlier years made them susceptible to praise. Their sentiments got the best of them in moments like these)

“Why do you keep saying suitcase?” asked Lestrade, frowning.

“Yes, where is it?” Sherlock spun and looked around him. “She must have a phone or an organizer. Find out who Rachel is.”

“She was writing ‘Rachel?’ “ confirmed Lestrade.

“No, Anderson suddenly became a genius detective instead of doing his job in forensics and was completely corrected in assuming she was writing ‘revenge’ in German,” said (Y/N). They began picking up blankets and crates around the room to find the suitcase. It had to be somewhere.

“Question is: Why did she wait until she was dying to write it?” wondered Sherlock as he searched.

“How d’you know she had a suitcase?” asked Lestrade.

Sherlock pointed at the body. “Back of the right leg: tiny splash marks on the heel and calf, not present on the left. She was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand. Don’t get that splash pattern any other way. Smallish case, going by the spread. Case that size, woman this clothes-conscious, could only be an overnight bag, so we know she was staying one night.” He glared at Lestrade. “Now where is it. What have you done with it?”

“There wasn’t a case,” said Lestrade.

“Say that again.” Sherlock and (Y/N) were staring at him.

Lestrade frowned under their gaze. “There wasn’t a case. There was never a suitcase.”

Sherlock flew from the room and shouted down the staircase. “Suitcase! Has anyone seen a suitcase in this house?”

“Sherlock, there was no case!” affirmed Lestrade.

“But they take the poison themselves! They chew, swallow the pills themselves. There are clear signs. Even you lot couldn’t miss them!” shouted Sherlock.

“Right, yeah, thanks, and?” asked Lestrade, growing impatient.

“It’s murder, all of them.” (Y/N) laid it out plainly. “I don’t know how, but they’re not suicides. There’s a serial killer behind them.”

“We’ve got ourselves a serial killer. I love those.” Sherlock grinned as his mind went to work. “There’s always something to look forward to.”

“Why are you saying that?” cried Lestrade.

“Her case! If it isn’t here, it has to be somewhere! Someone has to have it!” said (Y/N) excitedly. “The killer drove her here and must’ve forgotten the case was with them!”

“She could have checked into a hotel, left her case there,” said John.

“No, she never got to the hotel. Look at her hair. She color coordinates her lipstick and her shoes. She’d never have left any hotel with her hair still looking…” Sherlock trailed off as he made a connection. He looked at (Y/N). “Oh.”

They furrowed a brow for a moment before brightening. “Oh!”

“Sherlock? (Y/N)?” John tried to get their attention through the sudden haze of information they were reviewing in their minds.

“What is it, what?” asked Lestrade in confusion.

“Serial killers are always hard. You have to wait for them to make a mistake,” said Sherlock.

“We can’t just wait!” shouted Lestrade.

“We’re done waiting,” said (Y/N). They and Sherlock began hurrying down the stairs as John and Lestrade raced out after them.

“Look at her, really look!” yelled Sherlock back up at them. “Get onto Cardiff: find out who Jennifer’s friends and family were. Find Rachel!”

“Of course, yeah—but what mistake?!” cried Lestrade in exasperation.

“Pink!” shouted (Y/N) before dashing out into the night with Sherlock.

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