#AND wiping is not the end of the world either!

[livwritesstuff]

i’ve been sick at home for two days so here have a sick-fic (steddie!dads edition, obv)

It took three weeks from the first day of school for one of Steve and Eddie’s daughters to bring home some strain of elementary school illness – the flu, Steve's pretty sure, though who really knows? Whatever it is, It’s been knocking the family out one by one over the last week. Three-year-old Hazel had been the last man standing for a while, but she woke up this morning with a pretty gnarly cough and no appetite whatsoever, which can mean only one thing:

Random elementary school sickness: 5.

Harrington Family: 0.

So today is a sick day – yet another, because Steve hasn’t been to work all week, same with the girls and school.

Growing up, Steve had liked sick days, when he’d stay home from school and watch TV and eat ice cream on the couch while his mom doted on him all day.

(Then Steve’s dad had an affair and ruined everything, but that’s a whole other thing).

He wants to replicate for his daughters one of very few fond memories he has of his own childhood, so, yeah, the girls have been livin’ large the last few days (as large as three sick little kids can, anyway). They’re piled onto the couch under all kinds of blankets, eating meals of popsicles and toast and crackers, and watching all kinds of junky TV while they doze in and out of sleep.

Steve can admit that having sick kids is not his favorite facet of parenting, but even though he's totally wiped and the house is a wreck, he can't help but find the silver lining anyway because the girls are extra cuddly when they're sick, even nine-year-old Moe who might be nearing the end of the phase in life where she'll allow her dads to cuddle with her, so they've been asking for snuggles and stories, and Steve's fever-brain is running a little slower than usual so he's been taking the time to appreciate how much he loves being a dad, even in the not-so-fun moments.

The older two are sacked out on the couch with Dinosaur Train playing quietly in the background when Eddie decides the brave the real world for a much-needed grocery run. Hazel is awake still, and she wanders after Steve as he attempts to work through the mountain of laundry that has been building up over the last week.

"Wanna help me make dinner?" he asks her as he shoves a final t-shirt into the washing machine.

She shrugs her little shoulders.

"Not hungry," she says.

"Not hungry?" Steve repeats, and he silently curses his childrens’ elementary school for not being as strict as they could be in handling the spread of the flu across its students.

Still, Hazel ends up standing on a chair at the kitchen counter and helping him “cook” (dump three cans of Campbell's into one pot and heat it over the stove – and he won't be taking any criticism on it either, Tracy Baker, who's claiming to still be making homemade meals even though her family's in the exact same boat).

Eddie returns from the store just as Steve is pulling the pot of chicken noodle soup off the burner.

"Bold choice to have the most freshly sick kid help with dinner," Eddie comments, his eyes on Hazel as he sets grocery bags onto the counter.

Steve looks over just in time to see Hazel’s feeble attempt at blowing on the hot, steaming soup turn into a pretty spectacular toddler-cough right into the pot.

“Christ, no wonder we can’t shake this thing,” Eddie continues, looking vaguely impressed.

“Eh, I’ll stick it on the stove for another fifteen. It’ll probably boil off.”

[in1-nutshell]

Hi, can you please write a sequel to Susan's story. I thought and it occurred to me that it should go on like this: After the day described before, a week passes and little interesting happens during all this time. Unless, of course, you count the day when Susan assembled a detector from all sorts of junk that, in her opinion, should capture energy anomalies. To the annoyance of Autobots and children, these anomalies are Autobot life signals. All day long, Susan walked around the city tracking the Autobots, who barely managed to escape from the annoying schoolgirl. But it all ended when the Raf used equipment at the base to send a strong energy pulse that caused the detector to explode right in Susan's face. But after this excess, everything went back to normal. As the new week begins on Monday, Susan arrives at school handing out invitations to all her classmates to come to her house to watch the meteor shower in her backyard. For her, this is such a rare and significant event that she put on her special astronomer hat. And as you might guess, all of her classmates either lied that they were busy, or pretended to be interested but weren't really going to come, or outright refused or laughed in her face. The only ones who really want to come are Jack and the Raf (Despite Miko's warnings that this party is just a sophisticated trap) They thought it would be possible to go to this party at least out of pity (Jack especially saw this as an opportunity to apologize to Susan for the broken camera) But despite their wishes, they could not come because they had been helping the Autobots with a very important mission all evening. Which brings us to the backyard of the Farmfield house, lined with folding chairs and decorated with homemade decorations. Where Susan is sitting and waiting for someone to come. She waits and waits, but nothing. After a while, the sliding door opens with a sharp movement and Susan's mother comes out of the house. (A little clarification: After Susan's grandfather died, her parents moved back to house in Jasper to "take care" of their daughter. Although in fact they only moved because their business went bankrupt and they need a place to live) A woman looks around the backyard, looking at the decorations with disdain.

Mom: What is this all about, Susan? The woman asked with irritation in her voice.

Susan: Oh, it's all for my little party. One of the rarest meteor showers is going to happen today, and I thought it would be fun to share this rare phenomenon with someone. And I think if you and Dad join in, that would be it…

The girl happily tried to explain her idea until her mother unceremoniously interrupted her.

Mom: Susan, not me, not your father, and no one else in the whole world is interested in some stupid space-flying rocks.

The woman said with growing irritation in her voice.

Susan:Well, some of my classmates agreed to come, so they're interested.

The girl said with hope in her voice.

Mom: Ha, where are they?

She asked with mockery in her voice

Susan: Maybe… Maybe they're just late.

Susan: Maybe… Maybe they're just late.

She said clinging to the last shred of hope

Mom: Or maybe they just lied to you and you, being an empty-headed fool, took their word for it?

Saying this, every word is laced with poison

SUSAN: But… But they promised

Susan said sniffling, tears in her eyes

Mom: Oh my God, are you crying!? Stop it!

The woman shouted .

Susan: I'm sorry, Mom.

Susan muttered, trying to wipe away her tears

Mom: You know, it's because of your excessive sensitivity and your stupid hobbies that you can't make friends. You're just like your grandfather, a weirdo who will be laughed at for the rest of your miserable life.

Susan: I'm sorry

Susan mumbled even more softly than last time, still crying no matter how hard she tried to stop.

Mom: You know what, I don't care, live your miserable life any way you want.

The woman muttered at the end, turning around and walking back into the house. On the way there, she knocked over a couple of chairs and tore a couple of ornaments from the trees.

Mom:And take away all this garbage!

She shouted as she entered the house and slammed the door behind her.

Leaving Susan to sit alone, feeling like she's the loneliest person in the universe.

I'm sorry if this is too much, I just got carried away.

And I'm sorry if I've already sent this request, my Internet is buggy.

I teared up a bit reading this.

Poor Susan!

Susan will be okay, I promise!

Hope you enjoy!

Jack, Miko, and Raf vs Susan Farmfield part 2

SFW, Platonic, Angst, Human reader

TFP

Susan was still the trio enemy.

…Well, more Miko’s than Jack and Raf.

Jack didn’t see much harm with Susan.

She couldn’t even hurt a fly.

The only thing he would count as Susan hurting someone is having them sit in a room with her for 24 hours talking about conspiracy theories.

Raf honestly felt sorry for her.

He had her as a science partner once and it was fun!

He even got a couple of cool stickers from her.

Raf just hated that she had to look into places that could expose the bots.

Miko straight up hated her.

She saw the other girl as her prime nemesis, like the Autobots saw the Decepticons as their nemesis.

She was DETERMINED to make sure that Susan never got a hold of anything related to the bots or anything on them.

At school… Jack, Miko, and Raf are walking through the hallway. They spot Susan getting her books from her locker. A couple of new band aids cover parts of her face. Raf: “Susan? You, okay?” Susan jumps a bit, but smiles seeing it was the trio. Susan: “Oh yeah! I’m fine!” Jack: “What about those band aids from?” Susan: “Well, I was testing out a new invention I made last weekend. It can detect strange or unusual energy pulses. I hit a really big one the other night and it kinda exploded on my face.” Miko: “Well it was put out of its misery then.” Jack: “Miko.” He nudges her ribs a bit. The comment flies over her head. Susan: “But it did teach me to widen the range, but still back to square one. See you guys later!” Susan walks off. Jack and Raf turn to a smug Miko. Jack: “Is that why you told Raf to fire the energy pulse?” Miko: “Maybe, maybe not.” Raf: “Miko! That could have hurt her!” Miko: “So what? She’s the enemy.”

It was later that week when the trio found Susan passing something around the class.

It was an invitation to see a meteor shower from her backyard.

Jack and Raf winced as they saw students laugh and taunt in Susan’s face for making the ‘dumb party’ in the first place.

Other just made excuse not to go.

If there was one thing the trio, yes including Miko, could respect was that Susan was as stubborn as they came and followed through plans till the end.

Even if they blew up in her face.

Raf was the first person to tell Susan that he wanted to go.

The young boy had never seen Susan speechless and so happy at the same time.

Jack followed as well, mainly because he felt he owed Susan a solid after Arcee crushed her polaroid camera a couple weeks ago.

Miko reluctantly agreed, keep your friends close and your enemies closer right?

When the trio told the bots this, there were mixed reactions.

Arcee was curious on why the girl wanted to invite others to her home to watch some meteors.

It wasn’t a big deal.

Bumblebee was worried that it could be a trap, or Susan was going to do something to them.

Bulkhead did not want them going to Susan’s house. Point blank.

Optimus and Ratchet had mixed feelings about this human, but they both agreed to keep on optic out for her.

It was the night of the meteor shower when a couple of Decepticons showed up in a sector near an energon vein.

It was all servos and hands on deck.

The bots would go in the retrieve the energon while the kids would help keep visual and have the groundbrigde ready.

All three of them completely forgetting that they had plans that night.

Susan waiting patiently with a tray of homemade cupcakes and snacks in a lawn chair. Maybe everyone was running late. Or they forgot last minute, and they were getting ready. Her mother comes outside. Mother: “And what is all of… this?” Susan: “It’s for the Meteor shower party. You know, the one I told you about… like 9 times.” Mother: “Don’t you get smart with me missy!” She sneers at the décor and snacks. Mother: “And why on Earth would you waste all this food and paper for a party for yourself?” Susan: “No, I gave out invitations. They’ll be coming.” Mother: “Susan, if there’s one thing, I do know about you is that you have no friends. Just like your disgrace of a grandfather.” Susan narrowing her eyebrows. Mother: “Don’t give me that look! He had no friends because he drove them all away with his stories and lies!” Susan: “They were tru—” Mother: “SHUT IT!” Susan clamps her mouth and feels a familiar sting in her eyes. Mother: “Quite your crying kid! You don’t cry! Just quite it!” Susan: “What? Quite what?” Mother: “EVERYTHING! You think your going to get anywhere in this world by holding onto that weird little hobby of yours? Do you really think anyone will like you if they hear you spouting this nonsense? Look at yourself Stacy!” Susan: “Its Susan.” Mother: “Whatever! Just clean all of this junk up by tomorrow morning or I swear you will never see your telescope again!” SLAM! The lights in the house turned off. Susan slowly knelt to the ground letting out soft sobs while holding herself tightly. Maybe they were late… Maybe they got stuck in traffic… Maybe they… They… Following school day… The trio is walking down the hall. Raf: “I still feel bad that we didn’t go.” Jack: “I’m sure she’ll understand. We just had things to do.” Miko: “More important things than a meteor shower.” The stop when they see Susan again. She looks… different… Susan spots the trio and freezes a bit before slowly walking past them. Miko raises an eyebrow. Miko: “That was weird.” Raf: “She’s upset Miko.” Miko: “Please, Susan Farmfield never gets upset.” Jack looking at Susan going into the classroom with a defeated look on her face. Jack: “You sure about that?” Miko: “She’s just doing one of those sympathy tricks. Trust me the enemy will go back to normal when she sees her plan isn’t working.”

Since the party, Susan started having second thought about everything she had worked for.

Don’t get her wrong she still believed that there were aliens and unknown things that needed to be discovered.

But… what if part of what her mother was saying was right?

No, she came to far to start second guessing herself now.

Who needs friends anyway?

Susan Farmfield was going to find those aliens.

For her Grampa!

Susan was walking near one of the forested areas with her new energy detector. BING! BING! The machine had detected something. Something at the bottom of the gorge. Carefully Susan climbs to the bottom and gasps. It was a pod of some sort… Definitely alien origin. Susan pats the frost glass. Susan: “Hello?” The glass open startling the girl and she falls backwards and stares at the giant coming out of the pod. Groaning, a large bot sits up, stretches a bit before looking around and spots Susan. Susan waves awkwardly. The bot slowly waves back. Susan: “I don’t mean any harm. My name is Susan. Do you have a name?” The bot grumbles a bit. Susan: “What? Iroh eef?” The bot clears his vents a bit before giving a small smile. Ironhide: “The names Ironhide, kid.”

[cinnaleaf]

ESSENCE OF US - CH 7: ALL THAT GLITTERS...* [FT. YAPPING TRENT]

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | READ CH 6 | MASTERLIST | READ CH 8 [soon]

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: ANGST, SMUT, praise kink, power shift, begging, unprotected sex, language, implied anxiety genre: angst, fluff, slow(ish) burn romance wc: ~7.2k

The moment your voice cracked through the phone, Trent exhaled like he was holding his breath all night.

“Trent????” you asked again, wiping your eyes and sitting up against the headboard. You felt comfortable in your safe space, but the tension from Trent’s silence had you more awake than you wanted to be at such an early hour.

“Y/N” he said shakily. “You answered.”

You frowned, still half awake. “Mhm..why wouldn’t I?”

“Been calling you for hours...I thought you were pissed,” he admitted, you could feel the guilt laced in his voice. Your phone had been dead the majority of the night after the interview; mainly due to the onslaught of notifications. “Oh, baby no. I wasn’t ignoring you. My phone died from all the madness and I just..fell asleep.” You yawned, tugging your blanket up towards you. “You were worrying all night?”

“Yeah..I thought I messed up everything,” he murmured, sounding unsure of himself. He was clearly torturing himself all night, thinking you were angry at him, and it pulled at your heartstrings. “I mean..it wasn’t ideal that's for sure,” you admitted. “But it’s not the end of the world Trent. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Still..” he pressed in a heavier tone. “I promised you I would keep this shit away from you and instead I brought you right into it. Everyone knows now.” You sighed, still trying to wake yourself up. He was expecting an angry outburst from you based on the texts you sent, but you weren’t that mad at him, just extremely exhausted.

“You didn’t drag me into anything. It was bound to happen eventually and I knew that when we got together. It’s just...a part of your world I have to get used to, I guess,” the weight of your words sunk in as you said them out loud. There was silence on the other end that stretched for a ridiculously long time. Trent felt uneasy about something, and you could tell he was holding back.

“So...you’re not mad?” he finally asked, sounding so fragile. 

You sighed, wishing you could pull him into a hug from your end of the phone. “Well..I’m not gonna lie and say I’m happy about it.. but I’m not angry either. Just tired.”

“You sure?”

“I promise. It’s just....” you trailed off, trying to gather the thoughts from your sleep induced haze. “It’s been a really long day.”

That caught his attention immediately. He loved to yap. If there was an open ended question that would result in a long conversation, he was definitely going to ask; partially to hear your voice, and the other just to yap.

“What happened? Tell me.”

You let out a long sigh, rubbing your temples as the events from the day rushed back to you. “Love Notes was insane today. The phone wouldn’t stop ringing after your interview. People were coming in asking about the aftershave like I had it already. And to top it off, some kids came in and broke one of the fragrances. It gave me the worst fucking headache ever.” You didn’t feel the need to mention the conversation with your parents or the anxiety attack, it felt too heavy for the moment, and you weren't sure if you were ready to talk about it either.

“Shit. I didn’t know it got that bad. I didn’t know the logo was showing until I read your texts on the plane. How are you feeling? You should drink more water,” he rambled, sounding completely spent but still holding on for the yap session.

“I feel better... but Camille keeps bringing up hiring an assistant and..I just don’t know.”

Trent’s voice perked up slightly, “Well..baby she’s not wrong.” You rolled your eyes, feeling annoyed that he was suggesting it as well. “Trent. Don’t start. I’ve heard enough from everyone already.”

“I’m just saying—”

“I know,” you interrupted, sounding more sharp than you intended to. “Everyone thinks I can’t handle it. I don’t get why no one believes I can do this on my own? It’s my business.” Trent was silent for a while, and you felt bad for snapping, but the frustration was building all day. “Y/N...nobody thinks you can’t handle it,” he said gently. “But you’re only one person. You can’t do everything by yourself.”

“Yeah, but it feels like no one believes in me,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “What if I can handle it? Like, what if I don’t need an assistant? It’s fine. I’m fine.” Trent sighed, his voice softer. “No one doubts you’re not good at what you do, Y/N. Everyone has their limit. Tyler helps me out all the time. You should think about it, it’s not a bad idea.”  You sighed, feeling a little deflected. “Okayyyy. I’ll think about it.” He laughed at your annoyance with him, a brief silence following before he spoke again in a softer voice. “I haven’t slept all night and it’s almost 5AM.”

“Trent, what the hell? You’ve been up this entire time?” 

“Yeah,” he said, voice wound with exhaustion. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Aww. Baby, you have to go to sleep. Please..for me?” you murmured, dropping your voice.

“I will. Just wanted to hear your voice…”

“You heard it..now go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” you said gently, knowing he would want to yap even more.

He let out a tired chuckle but you could hear the weariness in his voice. “I wish you were here...next to me.” His sleepy admission made you smile. “I wish I was too. But pleaseee go to bed. Just call me when you wake up.”

He hummed in response, still talking but whispering. “Mm, yeah. Sleep. Just wanna be with you. Always…”  

You giggled softly, “We have plenty of time for that later. Just sleep.” He continued talking, slurring his words as he slowly lost his grip on consciousness. “When the season is over...we should go on holiday. Just us.” You perked up at the idea, remembering you were thinking the same thing earlier. “Oh, yeah? Where to?”

“Don’t care as long as I’m with you...somewhere warm,” he mumbled. “Santorini...or south of France.” You smiled hearing him planning already, despite being half awake. “What about the Maldives? Oh! Oh!! Or maybe St. Barths?”

“Hawaii,” he added sleepily, his words getting slower and slower. “11 hour time difference though, we’d be so jet lagged.”

“Yeah, but it would be worth it just to be with you on the beach somewhere. I heard Ka'anapali is nice.”

“Yeah…just..us” his voice was fading fast, sleep pulling him into a dream about your future holiday. “I love you.” 

You froze immediately.

You could’ve sworn you heard him say 'I love you', but you thought for sure you misheard him. It was late and you were both exhausted. There’s no way he said that.

Right?

No no no, he didn’t. You were probably mishearing him. He definitely said “I’d love to.” That made a lot more sense given the conversation. You heard it wrong. You were sure you did.

“Trent?” you whispered, but the sound of soft breathing let you know he was already fast asleep. You leaned back against the pillows, trying to convince yourself you definitely didn’t hear him say those words for the first time while he was half asleep. He was exhausted, you were tired...it obviously had to be ‘I’d love to.’ You pressed the button to end the call, dropping your phone next to you as you pulled the blankets around yourself. As you drifted back to sleep, you convinced yourself whatever you heard was a figment of your overworked, sleepy imagination.

Maybe you did need an assistant.

A few hours later you woke up, groaning into your pillow as the memory of last night came up in your mind:

‘I love you’ or ‘I’d love to’ ?

It felt like a dream, but it wasn’t. You sat up, trying to shake the drowsiness off. There’s absolutely no way he said that half asleep, over the phone. You were delusional and exhausted from everything going on. Clearly, you were running yourself into the ground, and now you were hearing things. Camille was right.

You grabbed your phone to scroll through the endless notifications from yesterday. There were texts and calls from people you barely knew, all asking for 'The Trent Scent'. It felt like the whole world was on your ass about it. You never planned for anyone to know it existed, yet suddenly it was all anyone cared about. You wanted to crawl back in bed and rot for a week but you knew better, you had things to handle. Which now included possibly finding an assistant. You hated admitting Camille and Trent were right, but it was becoming too much. You dragged yourself out of bed and tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen, where Camille was making some weird health nut smoothie. She glanced up when she saw you, stifling a laugh. “Morning, babe. You look terrible.” You rolled your eyes, leaning against the counter. “I feel like shit. Didn’t sleep great.”

“Rough night?” Camille asked, turning off the blender. She poured two glasses and handed you one. “Try this. It’ll make you feel better. Trust.” 

You eyed the glass skeptically. “What’s in it? Why is it three different colors?”

“Strawberries, dates, collagen powder, sea moss, avocado..some other stuff.” Camille grinned, sipping from her glass. “It’s really good, I swear.” You reluctantly took a sip, expecting to frown immediately–but it actually wasn’t bad. It tasted like dessert for breakfast, but was somehow healthy. “Okay.. this is so good,” you muttered between sips. 

“See?” Camilled said, smirking. “I tried it at Erewhon when I went to LA. My skin is glowing. It’s the collagen.” You couldn’t deny it tasted amazing, but you silently laughed at Camille finding a way to bring Erewhon across continents. Your mind faltered back to the conversation you had with Trent a couple of hours ago and you groaned.

“Camille…I think I’m losing it. Actually going mad. Legitimately.” 

Camille snorted, almost choking on her smoothie. “You’re so dramatic Y/N. What’s up?” You sighed, placing a hand on your hip. “I was on the phone last night with Trent, and I swear I heard him say ‘I love you.’”

“Okay… andddd?”

“I don’t know!” you blurted, throwing your hands up dramatically. “He was half asleep, I was knackered..I had to mishear him. I think he said ‘I’d love to’ because we were talking about going on holiday. He had to or else it doesn’t make sense, right?” Camille gave you an amused look. “A bit random to say it mid-snooze, yeah. But..nothing about the two of you is ordinary in the slightest. Stranger things have happened. What did you say back?”

“Obviously nothing!! Hung up and convinced myself I imagined it. I was so tired.”

Camille laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, well, he’s definitely in deep..so who knows. Maybe you didn’t imagine it, but what’s the big deal? You love him, no?” You bit your lip, contemplating. “It’s just..ugh. I don’t know. Everything is moving so chaotically..” Camille studied you for a moment, like she knew something you hadn’t figured out just yet; she would wait until you figured it out yourself. “That brings me to my next point...you need help at the boutique. Especially now.”

You groaned again, “I get it!! Why does everyone keep reminding me?”

“Because it's true! You’re doing the work of like five different people. And girl, I love you, but I’m exhausted just watching you move like this.”

“I’m fine!” you whined, though the fatigue in your face told a different story. “It’s just a little rough patch. No biggie.” Camille gave you a pointed look. “You fell asleep before I could even pour any wine last night. That’s not a rough patch babes, you’re running on fumes. I can’t believe you did me like that.” You scowled at her, not wanting to admit she had a point. “I’m just scared…I put my whole life into that place.”

“I get why you’re protective over it. But an assistant could help out a lot. Plus, you’ll be able to spend more time with Trent.” You sighed, giving in a little. Having more free time did sound nice, regardless of Trent being included in the perk. “Fine. But I’m picking who gets hired.”

“Fucking finally,” Camille laughed. “But I’m still helping.” You dropped your jaw in disbelief, partially smirking. “No help from your dad, though.”

“Our dad, you mean. But yeah, I promise. Cross my heart and all that,” Camille said, crossing her fingers.

You smiled, reaching for your laptop, eager to get it over with. “Let’s just get this sorted before I regret it,” you muttered while logging in to draft the job posting. Camille grabbed her phone, glancing over your shoulder as she watched you type. “The charity gala is coming up in a couple weeks..do you know what you and Trent are wearing yet?” You gasped, fingers pausing over the keyboard. “I forgot all about that..oh my days. I really am losing it.” 

“Y/N, how could you forget?! I can’t wait to see what everyone wears.” You let out a small laugh, trying to focus on the job posting. “Clearly I’ve been busy. I just hope it isn’t as chaotic as last time. I think I reached my limit for that this year already.” Camille smirked, “Speaking of chaos..remind me to take Jude’s phone the moment he grabs a drink. We don’t need another Paris situation.” You bursted out laughing, “A little too late for that, I think. I’m actually tired of tiptoeing around..people know anyway.” 

“Oooh, thinking about an official pop out?” Camille asked, curiously.

“Absolutely not. But I just don’t see the point anymore. Maybe people will leave me alone if I just give them what they want.” The gears started turning in your head as soon as the words left your lips. If people were going to keep hounding you about Rêveur, maybe you could do something meaningful with it. “...What if I released a limited batch of Rêveur for the gala? And all proceeds go to charity?” Camille smiled excitedly, clasping her hands together. “Y/N, you’re a genius!”

“I’ll have to talk to Trent first, though…it’s his.” 

Camille waved her hands dismissively, sucking her teeth, “Please. He’ll be all for it. He was waving the bottle around on camera like he was paid billions. I’ve never seen that man advertise anything with that much excitement.” You nodded as the idea swirled around in your mind, just as you hit ‘publish’ on the job posting. “Yeah..I’ll talk to him.”

A few days later, you stepped into a restaurant, your heels clanked against the marble floor as Trent’s hand found your lower back to guide you inside. The restaurant had an intimate feel; the lighting was low, with a soft glow from the candles on the tables. From the moment you walked in, eyes were on the two of you. Trent had on an all white fit, crisp lines tailored his shirt and trousers; it looked gorgeous against his brown skin; he was also wearing an Audemars Piguet watch, the scent of Rêveur clinging to his skin. You were wearing a dress that hugged every curve just right, the fabric shimmering ever so slightly. Your heels caught in the light, adding a few extra inches to make your legs look longer. Your perfume was a soft, warm scent of amber and vanilla, which paired perfectly with his aftershave.

“You look incredible, Y/N. And you smell so damn good,” Trent whispered in your ear. He gently spun you around, taking in the full view as his eyes ran over your body, lingering his gaze on the way your skin was glowing under the dim lighting. “So fucking beautiful baby.”

You bit your lip, feeling your confidence soar from his praise. “Thanks.. but you’re kinda eating me up with that watch,” you teased, eyeing how he looked in the crisp shirt that clung to his body just right. “Nah..I wore this for you ‘cause it has the moon on it. Reminds me of my girl,” he winked, kissing you softly on the lips. You could feel heat surging within you, but you played it off and headed to a table that was tucked away in a private area with the perfect view of the city. While you were eating dinner, Trent couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was staring at you more than he was eating, complimenting you every few minutes. “You’re so beautiful. So perfect. I’m lucky as hell.” You giggled, picking up your wine glass before taking a sip. “I think you said that like ten times tonight.” “And I’ll say it for an eleventh time..you’re so beautiful, baby. I mean it every time. You’re stunning.” You could see his eyes dropping to your chest before meeting your gaze again with a smirk. You and Trent hadn’t really seen each other much the past few weeks due to your schedules, but made a plan to have a date night after the interview fiasco. He was definitely upping the ante; everything felt so deeply intimate and sensual. Trent leaned back in his chair, eyes still transfixed on you. You thought back to the phone call the two of you had a couple of days ago when you thought you heard him say ‘I love you’. He didn’t say anything else since then, so it was clear you more than likely heard him wrong, but still.. you wondered. Now wasn’t the time though, you didn’t want to make anything awkward. He was sitting across from you looking like a dream, and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin the mood. Trent’s thumb rubbed soothing circles on the back of your hand, his eyes still hypnotised by your beauty. You both knew where the night was heading, but teasing him was much more fun.

“So..for the gala” you began, trailing your fingers around the rim of the wine glass with your other hand, his eyes watching every movement. “I was thinking we could do a release of Rêveur and just give the proceeds to charity. What do you think?” You were slowly rubbing your leg against his under the table. Trent’s eyes widened when your heels grazed his ankle. “Yeah..that’s a..uhh..erm..really good idea. Let’s do it.” He could barely get the words out, he was completely flustered. You smiled innocently, letting the strap of your dress slip from your shoulder. “Yeah? Everyone keeps begging for it sooo..let’s give the people what they want..” you paused, sliding your heel off and pressing your foot directly into his lap. You could feel his dick twitch underneath you, “may as well make it worthwhile.” His entire body stiffened and his hand slid down to grab your calf, his fingers circling lazy on your glowing skin. He was trying to make you beg for him, but you were determined to have the upper hand tonight, for now anyway.

“Baby...c’mon. You’re not even playing fair right now” he muttered in a hoarse voice.

“What? I’m just talking about the gala…” you bantered, giving him a sultry look as you pressed your foot against his hard on. You could feel his body shudder against the pressure, his cock twitching even more. “Why are you so distracted, babe?” He squeezed your leg tighter, letting out a shaky breath. “Y/N...we need to leave. Right now.” You grinned, pushing him further. “But we haven’t finished finalizing plans yet..” You applied more pressure, watching him suck in a breath. “We can’t leave out all the details Trent.”

“Baby, please,” he whispered. His hand was trembling as he stroked the skin below the hem of your dress. He was trying so hard to keep it together, but alas, you wanted to push him farther one more time. “We need to get out of here before I lose my mind in front of all these people.” You laughed, leaning forward to stand up. “Fine..but you need to help me first.” He gave you a confused look until you lifted your leg back on his lap. “Put my heel back on, pretty please?” you said innocently, yet the look you were giving him was anything but. He swallowed hard as his gaze traveled up your leg. If there wasn’t anyone else in the restaurant, he probably would’ve bent you over the table right then. Your dress slid just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the lace thong you were wearing, and it nearly did him in. His hands were shaking as he slid the heel back on your foot. He placed a kiss on your ankle, muttering something about how you were going to pay for it later. You grinned, standing up straighter to smooth your dress out. “What was that babe? Did you say something?” He shook his head, standing up quickly and taking your hand in his. “Let’s go Y/N. Now.”

As soon as Trent unlocked the door you barely had a chance to step inside before his hands were all over you. “You’re a fucking tease,” he growled. He lifted you up, flinging you over his shoulder. “Trent! Put me down!!” you squealed, lightly hitting his back. “Be quiet” he ordered, smacking your ass. The sting of it sent a thrill straight between your legs. “I’m gonna give you something to really scream about.” You made a mental note to tease him more often, this was hot. He was a man on a mission as he carried you up the stairs, you were getting wetter by the second. Once he finally tossed you on the bed, you were pretty sure your thong was soaked. “You were so bad tonight.” he said, sliding his hands down your body to grab the hem of your dress. “Rubbing your foot against me under the table like that..trying to make me lose my mind in front of everybody.” You bit your lip feeling him tug at your dress. You heard the sound of fabric ripping and you gasped. “Wh–”

“I’ll buy another one,” he interrupted, leaving you in nothing but the thong. You were about to say something sassy until his fingers hooked your thong and you heard another rip echo in the room. You were already arching against his hands as his eyes drank you in. “I’m in charge now” His fingers found your clit immediately, rubbing circles that had you bucking your hips. “Wanna be a good girl for me now, yeah?” You were a moaning mess already, head falling against the pillows trying to catch your breath. “Yes, yesss,” you pant, already close from how pent up you were. This was the first time the two of you were having sex in weeks, and your body was aching for him. He pinched one of your nipples between his fingers with his other hand, as his fingers sped up on your clit.

“T-Trent, baby.. I’m so close.”

“No,” he huffs, pulling his hand away and leaving you on the verge of sobbing. “Not until I tell you to.” Your breath hitched and you nodded quickly, spreading your legs wider for him. He wasted no time dipping his fingers back inside you, groaning from how wet you were. His thumb encircled your clit again, rubbing teasing circles to set you off. “Look at you, Y/N. Such a good girl.” You moaned loudly, rocking against his hand. “Mm..oh my god, yes.” He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting a different angle that made your back arch off the bed as a mewl escaped your lips. “Just like that, baby. You sound so fucking beautiful moaning for me.” His praise was setting off a flame within you, making you say things you didn’t even realize you were saying.

“Ooh, fuck. Do whatever you want to me, please,” you beg, grinding against his fingers. You were on the verge of an orgasm and he could tell; he applied a little more pressure to your clit and whispered in your ear. “Show me how much you love being my good girl. Cum on my fingers, baby. Give it to me.” You squeezed your eyes shut, curving your back as you moaned his name, waves of pleasure enveloping you as you fluttered around his fingers. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, voice filled with pride. “So fucking pretty when you cum.” Just as you were coming back to earth, he pulled his fingers out of you and lined his cock, pushing inside you in a smooth thrust.

“Fuck!” you both moan in unison, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. He moved slow at first, trying to savour the moment, but then picked up the pace, gripping your hips. “You feel so fucking good. Goddamn, Y/N.” he grits out, thrusting into you harder. You were still sensitive but you wrapped your legs around him to pull him deeper. “Oh my god, Trent…”

“Yeah?” he groaned, fucking into you deeper. “You like that? I feel you squeezing me.”

“I love it,” you moan, dragging your nails down the skin on his back. “I missed your dick. I missed you. So. so. Much.”

He picked up the pace, thrusting into your g spot with every deep stroke. “Such a good girl for me now that I'm giving you what you want, huh? Just for me.” His praise made you moan louder, your body moving in tandem with his to match his rhythm. You whispered teasingly in his ear. “I love when you fuck me like this. You’re so good to me Trent.” He cursed under his breath, thrusting even harder and deeper from your seductive tone. “Keep talking to me, baby. I want to hear you,” he breathes while his hand slipped between your legs to massage your clit. “You’re gonna make me cum again,” you whimper, feeling the tension build inside you. “You fuck me soo good. Am I taking it good for you?”

“Ah, fuck,” he growls, thrusting into you erratically and moving faster on your clit. He didn’t answer your question, but you knew the answer already. “Cum for me baby. I wanna feel that pussy cum all over me.” Your second orgasm was so much more intense than the first. You were clawing his back, leaving love marks as you screamed his name. Trent was barely able to hold back anymore, and groaned into your ear while your pussy quivered around him. “I’m about to cum baby, where do you want it?” You could barely catch your breath, but his words reignited something sinfully wicked inside of you. “Inside me,” you beg in a shaky voice. “Please. I need you to fill me up.”

“Fuck..fuck..fuck” he groaned, burying himself deep inside your pussy. His cock pulsed as the ropes of cum spilled inside you. The warmth from his cum made you moan with satisfaction. Neither of you wanted to move off of each other after that, and it wasn’t like he was going to let you in the first place; The man had been entranced all night, and you were enjoying every second of it. He placed a soft kiss to your lips, “You did take it good for me, by the way. Such a good girl.” You giggled, still in a daze from your high. “I think you need to talk to me like that more often. That’s so sexy.”

After a couple of minutes of cuddling, you ran your hand across his chest. “So...Rêveur,” you said softly, glancing up at him

“Hm? What about it?”

You bit your lip, feeling a little guilty for asking him while he was so riled up earlier. Right now was a much better time to ask since both of your heads were clearer. “Are you actually okay if I release it for the gala? I know I brought it up earlier but…” Trent’s hand slid to your back, tracing the curve of your spine. “Yeah, it’s fine baby. It’s for a good reason, I’m all for it. Plus, I can brag more about how good you make me smell.” You giggled, reaching up to give him a kiss. “Okay..let’s make it happen then.”

A brief silence fell over the room before Trent pulled you closer to him, nuzzling into your neck, like he was trying to butter you up. “So...how’s the assistant search going?” he asked, very carefully testing the waters.

You groaned, running your fingers over his hair. “It’s...going. I have some interviews tomorrow. So that means we can’t stay up all night.” He pretended to be annoyed as he squeezed your waist. “Baby, it’s been weeks though!” You laughed, shifting around to look at him. “You’re acting like you’re starving. We just finished.”

“Maybe I am,” he shot back. “One round is just a warm up.”

“Oh, hush!” you teased, rolling your eyes. “You’ll survive until tomorrow. I can’t be late, seriously this time.” He laughed, remembering the chaos from when both of you overslept after a long night of fun. Trent reached for his phone, setting multiple alarms to make sure you were up on time. “We’ll see how the morning goes..” he smirked, pulling you close. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight” you whispered, snuggling into him. The alarms tomorrow would surely wake you up, or maybe not, depending on how bold Trent was feeling when they went off.

The next morning, you tried to slip out of bed as the alarms blared in the background, but Trent’s hand tightened around you, pulling you into him. “Where you going?” he mumbled sleepily.

“I have to get ready..” you whispered.

“A couple more minutes…” he teased, kissing the back of your neck.

Of course you gave in. One thing led to another and your ‘quickie’ turned into a full blown session, leaving you scrambling to get dressed. Trent’s home looked a little different now. A lot of your things found their place right next to his. Your toothbrush was next to his, your skincare products were neatly placed on his bathroom counter, and your clothes were starting to take up half his closet. Unintentionally, you made his place yours–and he made your place, his. 

“I’m gonna be late!” you laughed, grabbing your bag. Trent stood in the living room, grinning from ear to ear with no regrets. “I woke you up on time though. You’re welcome,” he said, looking amused and very proud of himself. You shot him a playful glare before giving him a kiss goodbye and heading out the door.

Camille was already lounging behind the counter with a smirk on her face when you got to Les Notes d’Amour. “You have a little glow going on today....Trent I’m guessing?? You’re cutting it kinda close babe.”

“Shut up Camille! I’m here now, okay?”

“Barely.” Camille giggled. 

You dropped your bag on the counter, trying to compose yourself. You looked pretty put together, but Camille could read you like a book. “I was multitasking.”

“Right..is that what it’s called now?” she shot back, bursting into laughter. “Anyway, are we ready for this madness? You said there were tons of applications, yeah?” You sighed, settling into a chair as you tried to mentally prepare yourself for the day. “Yeah, but I narrowed it down to four. I just hope they’re not all weird.” Camille grinned, always down for some fun. “There’s always one. Let’s just hope they’re entertaining.”

The first candidate carried themselves like they were about to conduct a TED Talk. He didn't waste any time before launching into an introduction that sounded like a dissertation for a doctorate degree. “Fragrance is an intricate balance of compounds and molecular distillation processes. When properly executed, it can maximize olfactory efficiency over time.”

What the fuck is he going on about? 

Both you and Camille looked at each other, confusion etched on your faces. You nodded, pretending like you understood whatever the hell he was saying. “Sooo, what’s your experience with retail?” you asked, attempting to steer the convo back to something more understandable. “Well, I have a passion for molecular evaporation techniques. Retail is secondary,” the guy continued, unphased. “You see, when certain notes are distilled just right…” You suppressed your laughter throughout the rest of the interview, eventually ending the conversation. As soon as the door closed, Camille scrunched her face up, “What the hell was that??”

Candidate two walked in with crystal necklaces and smelled strongly of patchouli. She took in a deep breath, closing her eyes to feel the energy of the space.

“This place has such an unbalanced aura, but I can fix that.”

Camille eyed her with intrigue. “I’m curious to know how you’re going to do that?”

The candidate pulled out a rose quartz crystal, holding it up to the light. “I’ll align the energy of all the fragrances to my chakras. It’s all about cleansing the vibes in here. Very dark energy in this place.” You looked around confused. What is a chakra? You didn’t know how to respond, so you asked her about her experience in retail.

“My energy speaks for itself” she replied, setting the crystal on the table.

Camille giggled, “Does your energy know how to answer phones and emails?” The candidate gave Camille a sweet smile, not answering the question at all. “It’s all a part of a bigger cosmic picture. You’ll see soon enough.”

Umm, okay girl, anyway...

“Of course I picked all the weird people”, you told Camille as the chakra girl left.

The bell above the door chimed when the next candidate walked in: Ember.

She was beautifully striking with vibrant red hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was tall like a Willow tree; she definitely could’ve just stepped off a NYFW runway. She wore a black turtleneck, paired with tailored trousers..very sleek and minimalist. She had a confident smile that immediately drew you in when she gave you a firm handshake. 

Finally, someone professional.

“Thanks for meeting with me,” Ember began with a composed voice. “I’ve seen a lot of your work over the years. Love your use of tuberose in your collections.” You blinked, surprised. Not many people knew about that detail unless they followed your work closely. It was an interesting observation, but she had probably just done her research before the interview to impress you. The interview continued smoothly, Ember talked about her experience handling high-end clients, managing orders, and had a knowledgeable demeanour. But something about how she navigated conversations so easily gave you an odd vibe. It wasn’t enough to question her, but it was strange.

When she left, you glanced at Camille. “What do you think?” Camille shrugged, “She’s good. Knows her stuff.”

The last candidate was Tara. She was the complete opposite of Ember in appearance, but was eye-catching in her own way. She had a bubbly personality, was short, and had curly black hair that framed her face. She wore oversized frames that made her look a bit whimsical, as if she had just come out of a cartoony fairytale. Her outfit was playful, yet chic. She wore patterned trousers with a tucked in blouse, paired with trendy boots. She was full of energy.

“Hiii! So excited to be here!” Tara said enthusiastically, but not too loud. You smiled at her energy, but Camille leaned back in her chair, intrigued by the shift in energy. The moment Tara sat down, she started talking about how much she loved perfume. “I’ve been obsessed with fragrances since I was a kid. My mum used to take me to try samples all the time!” She didn’t have the same polished demeanour as Ember, but her enthusiasm was refreshing and felt genuine. She said she was still in uni, but wanted to gain more experience. Camille glanced over at you, trying to feel out the vibe. “So, how do you balance uni and everything? Must be chaotic.” Tara nodded, “It is but I thrive on chaos.” She pushed her glasses up, grinning playfully. “My love for perfume keeps me sane..and footie.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Footie??”

“Oh yeah! Massive Liverpool fan,” she said casually. “Always in red!”

Oh, if only you knew.

You smiled, relaxing a little. “Same…” Tara quickly moved on to talk about her top perfumes, and how she loved the creativity of fragrance making. You felt like she could fit in well, especially with her easy-going vibe. You were thankful she didn't mention anything about Trent. Camille’s voice broke you out from your thoughts and you realized you spaced out after Tara left. “Footie, huh? Maybe she wants your man,” Camille teased. You shook your head quickly. “Eh, doubt it. She’s just excited about the club, I think. Can’t blame her, they’re great.”

“Well…whoever you hire. You should make them sign an NDA.”

“Huh? For an assistant?? That’s a bit much, no?” you frowned, confused on why she would recommend something like that. It’s not like they were going to be around Trent often.

Camille shrugged, her tone casual as she glanced back at the CVs on the table. “Maybe. But now that you and Trent are more public..it really might not be a bad idea. People talk.” You nodded, but you weren’t fully convinced. “I guess...but I don’t really see the point right now. They probably won’t even be around him.” Camille knew you were stubborn as a mule, and didn’t push it any further. You signed off on the paperwork to hire Ember full-time, and Tara part-time, while Camille continued looking at both their CVs. Her eyes lingered on the part of Tara’s that mentioned she was studying public relations in uni.

“PR, huh?” Camille muttered under her breath, too quiet for you to catch.

When you made it back to Trent's house, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. The interviews drained you more than you expected. You sank into the couch, letting out a long sigh. Trent's aftershave lingered in the air, it was a scent you had grown accustomed to smelling all the time, and it made your heart warm every time. Trent was still at training, so you decided to binge one of the best Love Island seasons while you waited for him.

When Trent got back home, he wandered to the living room to find you sprawled out on the couch half way into a season of Love Island. You looked up at him, grinning. “Hi baby! Come watch, you have to see this recoupling.” He reluctantly sat down, acting like he didn’t care. “I don’t know how you watch this shit.” It didn’t take long for him to get sucked into the drama, though. Callum had just come back from Casa Amor with a new girl. Gemma stayed loyal the whole time and looked like she was either going to cry or kill him. Both??

“Nah! No way he did that to her!” Trent blurted out, forgetting he wasn’t supposed to care. His eyes were glued to the screen as his head lay in your lap. You stifled a laugh, glancing down at him in amusement. “Oh, all of a sudden you care now?”

“I don’t care,” he muttered, eyes still fully on the screen. “She’s gutted though.” You burst out laughing, “Trent, why are you into this more than I am?”

“Shut up…”

Gemma turned away, refusing to look at Callum. Trent’s jaw dropped. “Nah he’s finished. She’s not going to stay, right? You already saw this one???” You shrugged, trying to keep the suspense, “Keep watching and see.” A few minutes passed and the entire villa was in shambles. People were crying, yelling, storming off. It was hilariously chaotic. Trent shook his head, not believing what he was watching. “Shit’s scripted. Why do you watch this?”

“Because it's hilarious,” you replied. “The drama is better when you’re not a part of it.”

“Yeah..but would you couple up with me if we were on the show?” Trent asked playfully. You looked at him, pretending to think about it. “I dunno. You might come back with a girl like Callum.”

“Nah! Never!”

You shrugged, running your hands over his hair. “Sorry, baby.. but I would have to couple up with someone else.” You said it so seriously that Trent almost believed you before you both burst out laughing. 

“I’d choose you every time, Y/N..” he said, sitting up and leaning in closer. “I’m not just saying that either. I mean it. Every. Single. Time.” Your heart was almost beating out of your chest, the teasing from earlier disappearing completely. “You really mean that?”

He nodded, his gaze faltering to your lips before he pulled you in for a tender kiss. “Never been more sure.” Trent’s eyes locked on yours after the kiss, and without any hesitation, he said it. Perfectly clear, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I love you.”

So simple and matter-of-fact. It hit you like a ton of bricks.

You blinked, mostly out of shock as the realization washed over you. He did say it. He said it before, too. The night when he fell asleep on the phone. You weren’t imagining things. He was in love with you.

He loves me. Oh my god. This is real. Like we’re in it now. This is serious.

Your thoughts tumbled over themselves. Trying to make sense of the whirlwind the last couple of months had been. Your body honestly didn’t know how to react. Part of you wanted to kiss him, the other part of you wanted to tell him to shut up, another part of you wanted to get up and run away, your conscience wanted to tell him you loved him back. The stakes were even higher now.

“Y/N??” Trent’s voice pulled you out of your head. He noticed how quiet you were. You looked up at him, eyes wide and glassy, unsure of what to say exactly. He didn’t look worried at all, though. He wasn’t second guessing his words. He was just watching you, observing and waiting patiently with reassurance in his expression.

“I..” you started, but your voice faltered. What the hell were you supposed to say? Did you love him or not? 

I don't know if I'm ready for this. But I think I love him too? Ugh, everything's going so fast.

Everything was moving too quickly in your mind and somehow.. still not fast enough. You couldn’t deny the way his words made your heart swell, but you also didn’t feel ready yet. Maybe it was self-sabotage? Or maybe you were just in shock?? You swallowed hard, trying to blink back the tears pooling in your eyes. You weren’t sad, but everything felt extremely overwhelming.

How is he so sure?

Trent didn’t push you, though. He smiled, brushing his thumb over your lips. “You don’t have to say anything Y/N. I just wanted you to know.” You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. He loved you.

It was terrifying, exhilarating, and intoxicating all at the same time.

Just as you were trying to make sense of everything, a lurking, whispering voice came creeping in from the corners of your mind, like when the moon crosses the sun.

What if fate was never on your side? The sun can't shine forever, right? The tension from thunder and lightning only happens when it's about to rain.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! i appreciate each and every one of you that take the time to read this. lmk what you think

[yloiseconeillants]

healing becomes much less stressful when you realize you can just actually let people die and then rez them and it's almost never a big deal like let go of your fear you're not gonna wipe if a bard falls off the platform i promise

[catvids]

they gave my favorite character a closed arc and wrote her out of the story 👍

[mallevsmaleficarum]

the more we learn about the calamity across campaigns, the more it seems like Matt is eventually building up to a calamity 2.0

[nochepsicodelica]

Perv Toji thoughts in the brain 😔 Fed you guys the fluffy pieces, now i'm thinking of the little weirdo in him.

Suggestive

Perv!Toji who slips his thumb past your lips when you start drooling after falling asleep on him. He wipes the drool that seeped out of the corner of your mouth before gently pushing down on the plush of your bottom lip and easing the digit into your slightly parted lips. His eyes remain lidded as he feels your soft, wet tongue with the pad of his thumb, and when you start to stir, he coos at you, soft murmurs of, "sleepy princess" and "I got you, baby". He's got the most satisfied look on his face when you don't question why his thumb is in your mouth, too tired to even bother.

Perv!Toji who cancels his gym membership and starts working out at home, because you said you wanted to join him in his workouts. He could never say no to something like that. This is just something else you can do together, but it'll have to be an at home thing, because he can't have people ogling you the way he does when he puts you to work. He won't make you do his exact intense routine, but he does push you to the point where you break a sweat. It's a must. He slowly walks around you, observing his favorite parts of your body as you do the warm ups he instructed you to do. Jumping jacks are one of his favorite things to watch you do. He likes watching your boobs and ass bounce, and because it's not just a simple set of ten or fifteen, you end up panting, a sound that sends his blood rushing down, down, down. When you get tired, he does the parts of his routine that he exempts you from. He has you sit on his lap while he does bench presses, he does his pushups, but he wants you wrapped around him as he does them, and so on. Everything is skin to skin because he's not gonna have you just sit there and watch when you have a better purpose.

Perv!Toji who can't hold consistent eye contact with you when you go braless and your nipples are poking through your shirt. He understands, from the many times you've said it out loud, that not all bras are comfortable. The prettiest ones, some of his favorites even, are usually the least comfortable to wear. They're a courtesy to the rest of the world, but when you're walking around at home, you free your chest from those constraints and he has absolutely no complaints about it. "Free those puppies" is a recurring line of his, and when you do get the bra off, your boobs instantly attract his attention, like they're magnets to his eyes. Sometimes his intrusive thoughts win and he'll reach out and grab a handful of tit. He's definitely not shy about it, either. He knows his hands are better than any bra you own. He can hold onto your tits and never get tired, he offers great support for your back when he's behind you, and massages are included <3

Perv!Toji who has the weirdest obsession with your tummy. He's constantly rubbing and pinching the soft flesh as a form of stress relief. The area is never clear of hickeys, there always has to be at least three on that part of you because he can't be gentle when he's kissing that area. I don't know, he's just internally feral about it and sometimes those feral feelings start to trickle out. Loves when you eat a good amount of food and you get a little belly. He's constantly thinking of putting a baby in you, so when your stomach protrudes that way with a food baby, it gives him the illusion of what you would look like in the early stages of carrying his baby.

That's all for now, buh-bye <3

[dekuneho]

five in the morning ☆ ( ​prohero!katsuki x reader ) mdni | suggestive

The digital alarm clock seated on your bedside table flickers, casting a glow that reads 5 AM in the asscrack of morning. Your boyfriend is dead asleep and probably won’t wake up for a while, hopefully. You don’t waste opportunities that the universe has clearly granted on a silver platter, and so you set to work right away.

You slip off the bed, skillfully slithering away from Katsuki’s grip. He stirs momentarily, legs sliding over the warmth you had left; you hold your breath, watching him carefully. Katsuki continues snoring.

Mission accomplished.

Katsuki’s the better cook, and he had been spoiling you rotten all this time with his three-star Michelin cooking. Considering how well he treated you last night, you want to treat him by waking up to breakfast in bed this morning. It’ll be nothing special, but he’d be on the other end of the princess treatment this time, and it’s at least something.

A traditional Japanese breakfast would take a while, but you had prepared beforehand with leftovers and freezer foods. Now, the real challenge is perfecting Tamagoyaki the way Katsuki does — an impossible feat, but you wouldn’t be Katsuki’s favorite person in the world if you weren’t stubborn and headstrong.

As the rice boils, you move to reach for a cutting board but instead, startle at a warm figure pressing against your back.

Fuck. He wasn’t supposed to wake up right away! You barely started. Did he wake up once he realized you were missing?

“Katsuki,” you say, twisting around to meet your boyfriend’s half-asleep daze. “Can you go back to bed and pretend to be surprised in preferably an hour or so?”

“Nah,” he rasps out, octaves lower than usual. “Don’t wanna waste my view.”

Your plans have been foiled, but whatever. The heat emanating from Katsuki’s body makes you want to leech off him for a little longer. This morning had been a little too cold for comfort.

Katsuki keeps quiet as you work, his chin resting on the curve of your shoulder. He doesn’t murmur any complaints or criticisms, so it could either be because he’s approving of your methods, or it could be because he’s dozing off on your clavicle. He’s pliable as you glide through the kitchen, back and forth — and still, Katsuki’s like a cat perched over you.

“Hey,” Katsuki says. You feel his voice rumble over his chest, and it meets your shoulder blades. “Baby, look at me, please.”

A please so early in the morning? What a miracle.

You shift around, meeting Katsuki’s sharp and heated gaze. Seems like he enjoyed watching you a little too much. You smile, your arms slowly winding their way around his shoulders as his nose brushes against yours.

“Hi,” you whisper in the space you share, grinning.

“Mm,” hums Katsuki, expression turning fierce.

Without warning, he ducks and bites over your nose. It doesn’t hurt, just the threat of his sharp teeth on your skin. Still, you jump in his hold, bewildered and possibly a little aroused?

“Katsuki—”

He licks over your mouth, humming like a cat purring in approval. 

Well — scratch that. He’s more like a dog, licking your face like that, what the hell? You hide your face with an arm, ignoring the heat pooling in your stomach at how Katsuki’s staring at you like he’s mistaken you for breakfast. Breakfast that you worked hard to prepare!

“Down, boy,” you scold. Is he experiencing cuteness aggression?

“Had some on your lips,” Katsuki explains, like he couldn’t have just wiped it off with his thumb. “Tastes good.”

He pokes his tongue out, and you go cross-eyed, trying to follow it. There’s a trace of sauce on it, and you have to summon the power of a thousand men to hold back from sucking on it. He cages you on the island counter with two beefy arms.

“You, I mean,” clarifies Katsuki.

The thousand men are failing miserably.

“Katsuki,” you warn, sounding winded. Pointedly ignoring his grin, you push on his chest. “Let me finish your damn food first, ungrateful brat.”

“You ain’t my ma,” Katsuki snarks back. “Could make you one, if you—”

“Katsuki!” You push on his shoulders with more force, ears burning. Katsuki barks out a gleeful laugh, sounding too lively at this hour, feeding your mess of irritation and arousal.

Katsuki skids to a halt before you can reach the dining table, leaning forward to capture your lips in his. You inhale sharply, fingers twitching uselessly by his side. Katsuki pries your lips open with his, licking into your mouth some more. You can taste the residue of the fruits of your labor ( the breakfast that will get cold soon if Katsuki doesn’t cut this shit out ), and his hand sliding down to cup your ass is all it takes for you to melt against him.

You jerk away, needing to breathe. Katsuki watches you with a frown. You feel lightheaded.

“Fuckin’ cute,” he mutters, pinching your cheek. “Cookin’ breakfast f’me like that. So good to me, baby, you know that?”

“I — I should be the one saying that, Katsuki,” you say, embarrassed. “‘s why I wanted to surprise you.”

Katsuki scowls. “Stop acting all cute so damn early in the morning. I don’t want to fuckin’ marry you on some random fucking Wednesday.”

Breakfast is quiet, with you steaming from embarrassment and Katsuki preening from his win, all smug and stupidly handsome. It didn’t work out as planned, but maybe it was just an opportunity for you to share a Wednesday morning with your Katsuki, who’s criticizing the lack of spice but inhaling every grain of rice on his plate. 

You smile at your food. Maybe marrying him on a Wednesday wouldn’t be so bad.

[stringsbasement]

ngl i 100% thought peri would be an antagonist

he's the first fairy in thousands of years, born directly under the lineage of what has to be the most powerful fairy family line in current existence

(cosmo is a von strangle, and also the very reason fairies stopped having babies in the first place. he's incredibly powerful and nobody talks about it for some reason. it's clear peri inherited that destructive potential)

the second he was born, entire fairy species (including his own kin) were out to get him to use his volatile magic for their own selfish goals. he's nearly kidnapped thrice, and almost ends the universe on the same day

the threats keep coming, and he's being dragged to countless adventures that put him at risk. he literally ceases to exist more than once

anyway, i wouldn't be surprised if some form of expectations were placed upon him growing up. maybe not by his family, but he's famous (a teacher described him as such once); in fairy world, he's automatically adored and celebrated by adults and peers alike, which foop antagonizes (and tries to kill) him for

cosmo and wanda would, realistically, of course try to shield him from all this, but no matter what they do, he's inevitably isolated

people either want to use him, put him on a pedestal, or is a universally infamous human godchild who will forget all about him in a matter of years

(cosmo and wanda becoming godparents and learning (choosing) to eventually let go of their kids is one thing, but it can be assumed poof was still a young, underdeveloped child by the time timmy (+chloe, for what it's worth) got his memories wiped

and he sees that timmy's able to live his own happy life without him in it. he lost his brother just like that, and there's nothing he can do despite all his godly powers)

there's so, so many ways he could've gone wrong

thus, my initial thought was that peri was going to be a somewhat petty, "spoiled brat," and him becoming a godparent would be the result of spite or rebellion, which cosmo and wanda would feel entirely responsible for. I HATE MY PARENTS!! yada yada yada

it was a pleasant surprise to see all those clips of them loving each other. and it's not even because i doubted for a second that cosmo and wanda are bad parents, it's just what you usually expect when seeing shows from the 2000s, even if it doesn't make sense

all things considered, i'm very glad they went for the lighthearted silly family trope. not every show needs such conflicts, and showing healthy dynamics are better for kids overall

still, i find it interesting to think about if they'd gone down another route instead. i love me a pathetic cringy villain who tries (fails) to hate the people they love the most

[queenofthursday6599-blog]

Am I alone in thinking that a lot of transphobes/homophobes also have main character syndrome?

Like there are people out here who seem genuinely convinced that people's gender identities and sexual orientations are about upsetting them.

Boo no one knows who the fuck you are.

Trans people aren't trans in the name of pissing off transphobes, non-het people aren't things other than hetero in the name of pissing off homophobes (because we're all the same to them).

It's not about you guys, it's never been about you guys, and it's never going to be about you guys.

Okay. Full stop. Most queer people wouldn't even care what you guys think about us as long as we stopped getting murdered, and raped, and tortured about it.

Feel what you feel, even though you're a bigot, and that's just a fact, just don't abuse and murder us about it.

You think we're icky. Okay, fine, be that way. Leave us alone then.

The world isn't about you, and doesn't need to cater to you and your wants and desires, as you all love to tell us queers. Go about your business, and we'll go about our business, and we'll be polite to you if you'll be polite to us.

I feel like I'm not even asking for a lot really, literally only for basic human decency.

And sure there are plenty of other queer/lgbt+ people who disagree with me. And the rest of this post is more directed at them.

People who think everyone should love and accept us for who we are, no matter what we are and how we identify, and who we want to share our lives with.

And that's a lovely dream, it's a great goal for us to work towards, but we're not there yet.

We're on like step 12 of 200 on the universal love and acceptance plan, and we still got to get past step 20 of Hey Don't Murder Us Because We're Not Like You, before we can get to step 160 of Let's All Celebrate Are Differences Together.

It'd be great if everyone could get along and love each other as diverse individuals each portraying a completely unique and special existence in the tapestry of the human experience.

We'd all (or at least the majority of us, some of us are petty enough to still be pissed) love that.

But there's some people out there who still struggle to see other people's humanity through the surface differences of others, like their skin tone.

I don't know how it'd be possible for us to defeat homophobia/transphobia before we manage to end racism. Racism is literal ass backwards garbage that has been proven to be based on literal nothing and somehow it's still alive and well no matter what we try.

How are we supposed to convince these people that we, who have experiences so different from them, that we have the same innate humanity, when we haven't even managed to convince them that people of other ethnicity and nationalities are in possession of that innate humanity.

My hope for humanity is high, but my expectations are a few inches off the floor. Because I love my fellow human being, but also know them well enough that you have to sometimes bugs bunny fool them into not being shitty.

Some people are just mean, they're just jerks, and assholes, and hateful, and I don't want to waste anymore time and effort on them than I need to. I don't need them to like me, I just need them to respect my humanity.

It's not our jobs to fix our abusers and oppressors, and sometimes I feel like lgbt+ people can forget that.

[yanderenightmare]

Geto Suguru

TW: nsfw, dubcon/noncon, yandere, kidnapping, captive reader, condescension and patronization

fem reader

Thinking about the utter subjugation of being one of the prettier curses Suguru has made into a silly marble and swallowed…

By the time he spits you back out again, you feel his rule on you like a set of chains. It's awfully crippling. You know you'd wanted to fight back only a minute ago, but none of that remains now—swapped with the sole will to obey. It’s as if he’s stuffed everything with cotton—reduced you to a puppet on his strings, tugged this and that way on his command, summoned from within the prison of his stomach whenever he has use of you.

He keeps you by his side when he’s bored of waiting for templegoers. You’re not a very strong curse, not one he can use to attain his goals of world annihilation in any case, but you serve as entertainment, so you’re not entirely useless either...

It’s beyond humiliating for you, though, no doubt. Being kept on his lap like a pet. No clothes with no means to run away or stop him.

“Most every curse has an unpleasant taste,” he states against the shell of your ear, keeping you snug against his chest, naked and only partly draped in his shared monk’s robes. “Some or other secretion of the human body—shit, piss, vomit, blood, sweat, tears, spit…” he lists leisurely, one after the other, while tracing his finger up and down along the cursed markings lining your skin, a pretty little winged heart symbol on your lower belly, right atop your womb. “You know what you tasted like?”

You shake your head pitifully with a bite of your lower lip. You wish he wouldn’t touch you there—it’s so sensitive you can’t keep from quivering.

“Come on, humor me,” he purrs lowly, snuggling his chin into your neck, watching how you shake with amused slim eyes. “I’ll even give you a hint.”

His humming makes your head feel dizzy. You want to swat his hand away, but nothing in your body obeys you anymore. It’s all kept neatly under his thumb.

His breath licks your ear along with a flick of his tongue, then a soft snicker. “It was sweet.”

You feel sticky all over—overheating—breathing in short as sweat pills upon your brow. You whine, twisting some on his lap—shifting for comfort—finding some as the bulge beneath takes place against your naked sex. You immediately roll your hips to chase the friction it provides.

“Oh? Do you need another hint?”

His fingers glide lower, past the pink tattoo, and onto the fluttering mess beneath it. Two of them ride through your puffy and glossy wet folds, making you curl against his chest—head resting back upon his shoulder while spreading your thighs wider—craving it with every simmering nerve of your loins—needing more and never wanting it to end.

“That’s it,” he praises, but the touch disappears, much to your devastation, but quickly reappears within your mouth as he sticks both digits past your lips and presses down upon the soaked bed of your tongue.

He chuckles like he so often does, softly with mockery, only a bit cruel but equally nursing.

“It’s a nice flavor. Not very curse-like.” His lips skim your cheek as he wipes his fingers inside the warmth of your mouth—making you lick them clean for him. Pulling them out, he angles your face toward his, ghosting your wetted lips with his, pulled in a smirk. “It’s almost like you want to be eaten.”

♡ GETO SUGURU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[esyra]

Killing 1300+ Jews in barbaric ways does not make you the good guys. Israel retaliating is Hamas’ fault. Hamas surrendering would mean peace. Israel surrendering would have more dead Jews. But i guess that’s the end goal.

No, we're always the barbaric terrorists. Israel is the good guy for killing 9,000+ Gazans the past 25 days, and trapping 1,000+ under the rubble which will definitely turn out dead if they ever get the proper equipment to lift it off them. Israel is the good guy for killing Shireen Abu Akleh. Israel is the good guy for killing Ahmed Erekat. Israel is the good guy for killing Nadim Nuwarah and Mohammed Salameh. Israel is the good guy for opening fire on 2,400 protesters and killing 52. Israel is the good guy for holding over 1,000 Palestinians as "administrative detainees," meaning they are held indefinitely without charges.

In fact, Israel has been the good guy ever since they got the British to help them colonize Palestine and get rid of the Arabs, as they admitted to wanting it themselves. After all, as Winston Churchill said himself, the colonization of Palestine was righteous because as the Red Indians of America, and the black people of Australia, "a stronger race, a higher grade race, or, at any rate, a more worldly-wise race, to put it that way, has come in and taken their place."

Palestinians, be it on Gaza or the West Bank, can never retaliate or defend themselves. We're to either die and be violated quietly or we are terrorists which will be gleefully eradicated with the help of every colony-based State in the world. Otherwise, we'll disturb the comfortable privilege your racism and religious intolerance ensures.

When Hamas didn't existed the occupation began and the British violently suppressed anyone who opposed. When Hamas didn't exist the Nakba happened. When Hamas didn't exist the Deir Yassin massacre happened. But, you know, that one's fine because it happened after Israel had made Palestine agree to a peace pact, and they would never act unfairly so the brutal murder of over 100 Palestinians is obviously being misunderstood. Hamas doesn't operate in the West Bank, but they're still expelled from their homes, brutalized and murdered. Since October 7, West Bank had 115 killed, more than 2,000 injured and nearly 1,000 others forcibly displaced from their homes because of violence and intimidation by Israeli forces and settlers. They'll bomb mosques with exit points created to save people from settlers' violence, then claim they were used for terrorism. Proof? They don't need it. They'll bomb first then ask questions later.

Do people who blindly defend Israel do anything other than victimize yourselves? Do you even read any actual Israeli news that said the IDF "shell[ed] houses on their occupants," because they're too incompetent to do anything other than bombing everything? Do you ever wonder why the people Israel swears were burned and beheaded always came from reports from houses absolutely destroyed by what could only be shelling? Do you ever hear testimonies from survivors of the massacre saying IDF shoot at their own civilians? Do you ever read about past al-Qassam attacks and noticed they've never had mass casualties because IDF never responded like this? Do you even know what al-Qassam is or do you live to regurgitate whatever you're fed and being spoon-fed your information?

If Hamas' militia surrenders, Gaza will be wiped out and Gazans — those who are not murdered — will be exiled into Egypt's Sinai. That's the end goal since 1948, and that's what you're defending. But who cares? Arab blood is cheaper and racism is always fashionable.

[headspace-hotel]

I agree with the idea that a lot of humans nowadays have a severe lack of curiosity about the world, but I think there has to be a solution other than shame.

I think about this every day because the fate of our world hangs on curiosity: either we will rediscover the importance and wonders of the soil and bugs and flowers and water and finally with the whole natural world, or this way will be forgotten.

People raised in the great wasteland of the suburbs and roads and buildings have never seen most of the plants and creatures that are supposed to fill every field and meadow. So many humans have never seen with their own eyes more than a scant few of the most common of hundreds of wildflowers that are supposed to surround them. Some live in biomes designated forest and have never witnessed truly mature trees. They do not know what the birds sound like. When they see an ordinary deer, they are awed and amazed by it or even afraid of it. They have never eaten any of the delicious wild fruits that grow in their homeland; all birds except starlings and robins and sparrows are so strange and beautiful that they stare in wonder. They confront insects like people on an alien planet encountering an unknown life form: What is this? Will it hurt me?

I cannot even describe the grief I feel on behalf of humans that grow up and live in the wasteland of pavement and lawn. That we are expected to live in these brutal environments, that we are expected to be content without the right or ability to live alongside living creatures, to walk among wildflowers, to hear birdsong, to feel the plush softness of moss, to see even common bees and butterflies—the fact that we live, work, and raise our children in poisonous wastes where nearly everything has been wiped out, and the simplest and most abundant of natural pleasures are rare privileges—it's cruel. It's a crime against the human spirit. It makes me so angry and sad.

When I started researching plants, I had no idea that I would end up expanding my mind so much that I would be virtually a different person within the year. Before I learned, I could not have imagined the diversity and beauty that exists in the world. My mind did not have the tools to come up with it.

I lived for over twenty years believing that there was only one species of firefly. I lived for over twenty years not knowing that the Southeastern US has native bamboo. I had never tasted the indescribable flavor of a pawpaw or seen the iridescent vibrance of a red-spotted purple butterfly. I had only seen a Pileated Woodpecker out the window of a car. I had never touched true topsoil, the soft, living blanket of rich, sweet-smelling earth full of mycelium, as springy and plush as a mattress. Just one year ago, I knew nothing!

Humans, as creatures, are insatiably curious and hunger for beauty. It is so cruel to deprive a human of relationship with their natural environment.

It is no wonder that we are all addicted to the internet—we have a crucial need that is unfulfilled. Compared with a forest, the world of lawns and buildings is so ridiculously flat and unstimulating. You would expect humans in such a place to feel constantly bored, restless, frustrated, and incurably sad.

I feel that lack of curiosity can be a chosen thing, but it is also a defense mechanism against a world that will feel like sandpaper on the senses of the curious.

But we need curiosity to fix this—we need the ability to notice the living things that have crept in at the edges of the wasteland and be infected and tormented by their beauty. We need to recognize the forest reaching into our cage in the form of tiny saplings. We need to discard the word "weed," not because it is derogatory because it is fundamentally incurious—it designates a plant as needing no identity outside of its unwantedness. We must learn their names. We must wonder what their names are.

[draconic-desire]

Gosh i just loved your Sunday fic.. 😫

Im wondering what about a naive type darling? With so much isolation, it has made darling insecure. Darling thinks Sunday deserves a better woman and just ups and leaves Sunday when he isnt home. But ofc is soon found not long after 😋

ohhhh so personally i imagine this happening after sunday uses the harmony one too many times on poor reader…you never saw it coming, never would have thought sunday would hurt you despite being isolated for so long. any thoughts you had about escaping, even going outside to see friends, are obliterated. sunday becomes your whole world.

Yan!Sunday x Naive!Gn!Reader

You’ve been standing in front of Sunday’s door, fist raised and poised to knock, for twenty minutes now.

For what feels like the millionth time, you lower your hand, worrying your lip.

He’s been in there all day. Sunday is a busy man, his schedule constantly filled with meetings and Family affairs, but never too occupied that he would ignore you for an entire day.

Your mind fears the worst; even those initial days of being drowned in the Harmony, before you realized Sunday was trying to help you adjust to your life with him, is preferable to this. Did you do something wrong? Who is he in there with? Is he ignoring you?

Has he…grown tired of you?

The mere thought chills your heart and fills your veins with ice as you take a step back, inhaling sharply.

The wooden door before you is polished to a fault, bright enough that you can see your faint outline. It bitterly reminds you of how inferior you are compared to him, a mere speck of dust, a fleeting shadow on the wall.

You start to spiral. Surely Sunday, the most handsome and sought after man in Penacony, could have his pick of anyone—so why would he settle on you? Why did he bring you here, trap you in this mansion, keep you by his side, if only to throw you away in the end?

Did he never love you?

Why does that thought hurt you so much?

Heart pounding and tears blurring your vision, you quickly turn and flee, your knock forgotten.

~*~

It has long grown dark on the streets of the Golden Hour.

The normally bustling city is slumbering, the only light provided by the plethora of flashing billboards that never sleep. The few individuals you have passed are either drunks stumbling home or the stray Intellitron. You’ve been walking aimlessly for hours, wiping away tears and fruitlessly searching for a way to escape to reality.

After all your time mulling in your sadness and insecurities, you have come to the conclusion that you should relieve Sunday of his care of you. He’s much better off without you, or rather with a better individual than you. He should be dating royalty, a celebrity, an angel. The type of person who would have knocked on that door, would have strutted confidently into his office and sat directly into his lap to—

Another pair of footsteps echo behind you.

You almost don’t hear them at first, but you most definitely see the haloed shadow on the wall in front of you.

“And where do you think you’re going, (Y/n)?”

You immediately freeze, your breathing becoming erratic and shallow. His voice sends little butterflies pounding against your chest, begging to fly to him.

“Do you really think this pathetic attempt to escape would succeed?” A hand wraps around your waist, spinning you around to meet golden eyes rimmed in violet. You expect them to be filled with anger, perhaps even loathing, but you’re shocked to discover they are brimming with nothing but thinly veiled panic.

His grip tightens when you don’t respond immediately. “Answer me, (Y/n).” His voice cracks as he says your name again. “Where have you been?”

Words clog in your throat. “I—I thought—you were—you didn’t want—”

“I’ve been searching everywhere for you. You weren’t thinking. I believed we had moved beyond your futile attempts to leave, that you understood that you are mine—”

“But what if I don’t deserve to be yours!”

The two of you freeze in the wake of your outburst. His breath hitches as you lower your head and whisper softly, “I thought you stopped loving me the same as I love you.”

For once, you’ve caught Sunday off guard. His beautiful gaze widens in shock as he truly takes in your form—shivering, tears rolling down your cheeks, nails digging into your palms—and realizes his mistake.

You left because you thought he didn’t want you.

The mere idea baffles him. Standing before him is the most beautiful individual he has ever seen. Every fiber of his being screams for him to lock you in a birdcage and throw away the key—you are a precious treasure, meant to sing only for him. He has created you to be the perfect devotee in his very image.

And all of his efforts have succeeded, because you said you loved him.

His anger and fear immediately melt into softness as he holds your face between both hands, his forehead lowered to press against yours. “Oh, darling, no. You cannot fathom the adoration I harbor for you, the multitude of praises I wish to preach each day in your name.”

His voice takes on a nearly holy reverence, but his eyes shine with an untamed desire. “There is nowhere you belong except for by my side. Finding you missing this evening nearly tore my heart out. You must never venture out again, do you understand, my precious dove?”

You sniff and lean into his touch, a smile parting the river of your tears. Yes, that’s right. That’s what the Harmony said before, too: your purpose is to please Sunday, to serve Sunday, to live for Sunday.

Why would you ever doubt his love?

Why would you ever want to leave him? What a silly idea.

You think you feel a tiny pull at the back of your mind, a hook that wants to tether you to reality. But a quick slash of a knife severs the line, leaving you floating in a sea of multicolored bliss.

“I’ll never doubt you again, Sunday. I love you.”

Sunday’s lips curl into a smirk as he lifts your chin and examines the rainbows dancing in your eyes. “I love you, too, (Y/n).”

[sttoru]

⟣ note. ehem, this was based of a request but didnt show in tags so i hadta repost again bcs tumblr hates me from time to time

⟣ tags. dad!toji x female reader. pure fluff. hearing baby megumi’s first words.

it wasn’t unusual for you to get terrorised by your husband when you have megumi in your arms, but lately, it’s been getting worse. your son was at that stage where he was babbling nonsense, trying to create words that actually do make sense. megumi was most active in your embrace, where you’d encourage the little boy to say his first audible word; ‘mama’.

“say ‘pa-pa’, c’mon buddy.”

but of course, your husband desires otherwise.

toji was cuddled up with you on the couch and had his arm wrapped around your shoulders whilst megumi was on your lap. toji held one hand out towards his son so he could tap against it—megumi taking the opportunity to slam his tiny hands against his dad’s rough palm as hard as possible.

“mm, bla-bla!” megumi blabbers, pouty lips covered in saliva due to him constantly using his mouth to talk to his parents. in his own baby language.

“oh, that was close,” you hum and lean your head back against toji’s chest, “i can’t lose now—c’mon ‘gumi, say ma-ma!”

your husband grins as you make a competition out of the situation. he wasn’t one to back down either;

“no, pa-pa.” toji reminds his son, bringing the attention back to him by gently wiping the drool from megumi’s chin with the pad of his thumb, “i’ll give ya snacks if you do.”

it seems like you were both determined to catch megumi’s first word in person. the small child was in his own world in the meanwhile, still smacking toji’s big hand as if it was the most fun activity to do.

“mbwah.. pa!”

toji’s face lights up and he takes the chance to snatch megumi from your lap, lifting the boy up in the air, his chubby legs kicking around as your husband held him up above the two of you; “almost there, buddy— c’mon, say it twice. papa.”

you both look on in anticipation. your gaze landed on toji’s face and you swore that you felt your knees go weak. you haven’t seen toji look this excited for something in a good while—his lips tugging up in a bright, soft smile instead of his usual grin, eyes sparkling whilst they glance up at megumi.

you were sure that you’d be fine if megumi’s first word were going to be ‘papa’, toji deserved it. plus, you’d love to see him gush and be happy about that achievement (though you don’t look forward to hearing your husband brag about it 24/7).

“papa. pa-pa.” toji tries to coax his son out of pure excitement. megumi was cooing and babbling other incoherent stuff, but that didn’t stop his father from trying again and again.

you looked up at your son and waited for the moment to come—to hear the first word spill from your baby’s lips.

megumi looked down at toji who held him up above the two of you, his blue orbs going from his mom to his dad, making grabby hands towards both, tiny mouth opened the entire time;

his saliva gathered near the corner of his lips as he tried to figure out what to try and say next. both toji and you were too caught up to even notice the small trail of saliva trickling down his bottom lip. the string of drool ended up falling right on your husband’s eye;

“hey!” toji groans, putting megumi back down on his thighs and giving the baby a gentle pinch on the cheek, “do ya hate y’r daddy that much?”

“you okay?” you grin and use the sleeve of your sweater to wipe the drool away from toji’s face. the dark-haired man nods at you with a feign smirk on his lips as he then randomly decides to be overdramatic again in front of your son.

“ugh, no,” toji hisses and holds his hand up to his right eye, acting like he was in immense pain in front of megumi. you roll your eyes at toji’s dramatics, however the little boy didn’t look as unfazed as you; “papa’s hurting—ouch.”

megumi stops anything he was doing and tilts his head a bit, bottom lip trembling as he realises that his dad was ‘hurt’ and now groaning in pain. his arms reach out towards toji;

“pa..pa? papa?”

silence. both toji and you were stunned to the core. you looked at toji and he looked back at you— both trying to confirm that what you heard was indeed megumi’s first word.

as if on cue, megumi’s adorable voice calls out for his dad again, hands still tapping against toji’s cheek; “papa?”

toji stares at him with a shocked expression for a few more seconds before finally hugging megumi tightly to his chest—a confused noise leaving your child’s lips at the suddenness of the affection.

“my boy,” toji sighs, his nose nuzzling against megumi’s small neck, causing the little boy to laugh at the ticklish feeling, “my boy.”

you can’t help but smile at the sight—toji hugging your son like his life depended on it (but not too much to the point that it’d be suffocating), megumi almost disappearing from sight as toji’s big body enveloped him entirely—the blue locks sticking out were the only indication of your son still being present.

toji wasn’t going to free megumi from his embrace any time soon. the new emotions he was feeling were overwhelming—too much so that you started to question if he was actually tearing up. you couldn’t see his face, but you could sense something changing in the air;

“aww, come here—both of you.” you hum and join the family group hug, rubbing toji’s back whilst kissing his forehead.

a new core memory was created and you were more than content with the outcome.

. . .

[uluvjay]

Daddy?- M. Verstappen

Max Verstappen x fem! Reader

Request: Max finding out that he’s gonna be a dad and then wearing his daddy shirt

Warnings?; Fluff, pregnancy announcement, kissing, cursing, talks of anxiety and worry, lightly proofread, i apologize for any errors!, ending isn’t the best im sorry

You knew the shirt was the perfect way to tell him the second you found it online, after years of jokingly calling him daddy after a tweet you’d seen early in your relationship this was the best way.

However it was no longer a joke and within a few months he’d actually become a father, your little boy or girl soon to be welcomed into this world.

You set everything up while he was at training, in a pretty white box you placed down your original test next to the ultrasound you’d gotten at the doctors a few days ago before covering it up with the shirt.

Putting some pretty white flowers in a vase you set them next to the box, getting the tiny cake you’d ordered ready in the fridge.

You waited until you heard his keys fidgeting with the lock before jumping up and making your way to the front door.

“Hi Schat, everything okay?” He questioned at your unusual greeting.

“Mhm, have something i wanna show you.” You smiled reaching a hand out for him to grasp.

“Okay.” He nodded sliding his free hand in yours and dropping his keys into the bowl my the door.

Letting you guide him into your large kitchen max stayed silent, his eyes admiring the way your hair flowed and the pretty white dress you were wearing hugged your body.

Stopping at the counter your turned around smiling at him brightly, “are you ready?” You asked softly and he could hear a hint of worry in your voice.

“Yes.” He laughed.

Moving out of the way you revealed the box, max looked at you a little confused at the sudden gift.

“If I knew you were getting me something I would’ve gotten you a gift on my way home.” He grumbled, hating when you spent money on him and didn’t allow him to repay it somehow.

“Just shush and open the box.” You laughed.

Max mocked you with a laugh before opening the box, his laugh echoing through the room as he read the shirt.

“A daddy shirt? Who put you up to this.” He smiled looking down at you.

“Pull it out of the box and you’ll see.”

He shook his head before pulling the black shirt out of the box, his bubbly demeanor calming down in seconds at what sat below him.

Picking up the ultrasound he brought it close to his eyes, making sure he was seeing things correctly.

“I-is that…are you-are we pregnant?” He spoke looking down at you.

“Mhm.” You nodded, lip stuck between your teeth in anxiety.

“Oh my god..we’re having a baby?”

“Holy fuck we’re having a baby!” He smiled, thick arms wrapping around your body as he lifted you into the air.

Your legs wrapped around his waist while your arms went around his neck. All the anxiety you’d felt moments before washed away the second his arms went around you.

“I can’t believe this.” He whispered into the crook of your neck.

“Me either.” You laughed, leaning back slightly to wipe the tears that had fallen.

He held you for a few more minutes before setting you softly on your feet and dropping to his knees, his hands rolling up your silky dress to reveal your stomach to him.

“Hi Schatje this is your papa speaking, we’re so excited for you, me and momma can’t wait to meet our little lion.” He spoke softly, his lips placing pecks along your skin.

Standing to his feet Max pulled you into him, his lips locking with yours pouring all his emotions into the kiss, this one was different then his usual strong and dominant kisses.

Pulling away he pressed his forehead against yours, “I love you so much.”

“I love you more, daddy.”

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