#Domestic au

[imsofreakingtired]

Sevika is a morning person. she isn't able to stay asleep for long and once she's up, she literally can't stay still: there's always something she feels like she needs to do. it'll be like 6am and you wake up to see Sevika sauntering around the place in her boxers and a tank top drinking a cup of coffee and cleaning the windows or something because she didn't want to wake you up by vacuuming.

[starkissedmallow]

Domestic AU! Shota Aizawa x Reader HC’s

- Shota typically wakes up before dawn

- He makes you breakfast and then makes himself a cup of coffee even though he knows it’ll do him no good

- He enjoys having a quiet, lazy start to the day

- Shota is disciplined but still enjoys cuddling you in the morning

- He’s very responsible when it comes to doing any chores around the house

- Shota doesn’t mind cleaning and he takes pride in his work when he’s finished

- He’s very good at organizing and keeping things neat and tidy

- Shota enjoys quiet evenings planning lessons or grading papers

- He loves having you nearby either working on your own work or just relaxing with him

- Aizawa is a cat person and loves having a cat

- He loves their independence and enjoys having a cat to snuggle with at the end of the day

[inkzectz]

Domestic doodles 😛 #edging

[theysangastheyslew]

HAHAHA LOOK I MADE SOMETHING 🤪🤪

SO WHAT IF IT'S AN OLD MEME AND SUPER SELF-INDULGENT? @catyypss INSPIRED ME *AND* IT'S STILL MY BIRTHDAY MONTH AND I'M EXHAUSTED FROM MOVING SO WE ARE TAKING WHAT WE CAN GET *w*

*insert mad cackling here*

EDIT: NOW COMPLETE WITH AN AMAZING FIC BY THE AMAZING @youre-ackermine 🥹💜💚

[rambunctioustoons]

sleep ! ✨

I think moon is a blanket hog. curled into a pile with all of the blankets. sun doesn't enjoy 'sleeping' long and just tosses and turns until everyone wakes up again lmao

[notdysfunk]

the elderly

[waldau-archived]

18 with mingyu please! thank you 😚

“Teasing kisses where one person blows air into the other’s mouth and runs away.” + mingyu

i would like to kiss his pout once please and thank you

“mingyu.”

“that’s not my name,” he whines, but is still obediently standing next to you as you fill a glass with water.

“kim mingyu?”

“do you want me to die? is that it?” he asks, turning to look at you with a frown. he’s always cute, but this might just be your favourite mingyu — drunk and clingy, taking offense to the way you’re referring to him.

“isn’t that your name, though? what should i call you?”

“gyu,” he huffs, sipping the water you hand him. it takes a while before he manages to down the glass, but once he’s done, he wraps his arms around your shoulders and rests his head on yours. you’re well and truly trapped under your boyfriend. “baby. love of my life. your life, i mean.”

“gyu,” you repeat, standing on your tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his cheek. he smells of alcohol, his perfume that you love so much, and the faint smell of cigarettes that are not his own. you know he’s going to want to take a shower even if he’ll deny it. “you feeling okay?”

“tired. head hurts a bit.”

“i’m sorry,” you frown, genuinely meaning it. “i think you should have a tablet before you sleep.”

“i need something else before that.”

“what is it?”

“kiss me.”

“you’re drunk, baby,” you say, unwrapping yourself from the embrace and pushing his hair out of his eyes. “i think there’s other stuff you should do first.”

“like what.”

“take a shower, change into more comfortable clothes?”

“just say you don’t love me.”

“i don’t—”

“don’t actually say that?” mingyu exclaims, looking at you with wide eyes.

“silly man,” you scold, holding his face in your hands, “i was going to say i don’t think i could ever say something that false. i love you, and i want to kiss you, but i’ll do it only when you brush your teeth and have that tablet, okay? oh, come here,” you say, when he pouts at you. you’re not yet immune to how cute your boyfriend can be when he wants to. “i love you. love of my life.”

his smile comes back, and you squish his cheeks together before you blow a small gust of air on his lips. the look of shock on his face prompts a grin on yours and you let go of him, preparing to run.

“hey!” he calls out. “come back! that’s so unfair!”

“love you, too!” you yell back. you’re going to attack him with kisses once you’re both under the covers.

[asterwinde]

Self indulgent stuff + study

[viviraptor-art]

more married shrimps!! weevil wanted a bee-friendly garden put up in their backyard, but couldn't help but get distracted 🙄

bonus:

[ruxxifystars]

🎸🎹🥁🍜 GROWN UP + DOMESTIC AU!

[sp0o0kylights]

6 PM and Eddie was in full story mode, gesturing wildly as he made himself a bowl of soup.

It was nothing fancy, just some canned chicken noodle that Steve had stuck his nose up at.

Then sniffed dramatically when Eddie had popped it in the microwave.

(Considering It was an after work snack, Eddie didn't take offense to his boyfriend's rich-boy sensitivities.)

"Then Brandon, the asshole, pulls in this ancient Jeep. Swears he checked it out before he bought it." He's still in his shop clothes, too busy going through his day to change.

"Did he actually though? Noooo." Eddie drawled out, fetching a spoon and setting the warmed bowl on the counter.

"Wasn't he the guy who just bought that truck?" Steve asked from his spot on the couch. He had beaten Eddie home, a rare accomplishment for him on a Wednesday.

Eddie spun, spoon in hand. "The one with the bad engine? Yes!"

"At least the color wasn't bad."

"It was banana yellow." With a scoff, Eddie put the can in the sink, picked up his bowl, and threw it in the trash.

He made it two entire steps forward before he froze, eyes growing wide.

“Stevie.” Eddie whispered, his entire body slumping dramatically. “Stevie, I threw away my soup.”

Trying (and utterly failing) not to laugh, Steve said, “I know. I watched you do it."

Entire face falling into a heart wrenching pout, Eddie looked between Steve and the sink.

"I wanted that." He said pathetically.

"Do you want me to make you soup?" Steve asked, voice teasing.

"Please?" Eddie's eyes worked over time, as he slunk his way over to his boyfriend. He dropped to his knees, putting his chin on one of Steve's thighs. "Pretty please?"

Steve flushed scarlet, eyes darting to Wayne and back. He was working on accepting Eddie's more theatrical displays of affection in front of others, but didn't shove Eddie away.

Told him he would never.

Not even when it was in front of Eddie's bandmates, who still eyed Steve with distrust.

"Would you like some too Wayne?"

Pretending not to smile from his ancient armchair, Wayne hummed. "Long as it's no trouble."

"Not at all." Steve pushed at Eddie's head, prompting the other boy to back away as Steve got to his feet.

Quickly, Eddie stole his boyfriend's spot on the couch, basking in the vacated warmth.

"I'm adding veggies along with everything else. No complaining!" Steve called as he began pulling open cabinets.

"I'd never dream of it." Eddie called back, batting his eyelashes even though Steve couldn't see it.

"If he does, I'll just eat his portion. Boy can go to bed hungry if he doesn't appreciate that cookin of yours." Wayne added, in his own teasing twang.

"Suck up." Eddie fired back, sticking out his tongue.

From the kitchen, Steve turned to hide his grin.

[balestrra]

Domestic Brisk and Terios

[shubloe-din]

All the cute little domestic scenarios I have in my head…I’m obsessed with this au actually

Anyway Cassie and Takeda are 100% the type of kids to just stare at their parents until they wake up when they need something

The hijinks that these two would get up to when left unattended is actually insane

Edit: I TOTALLY FORGOT TO DRAW KENSHI’S TATTOOS SKBDJSNSJS 🙃

[inkzectz]

Reposting, I did not realize the gfm was a scam 🥲

[chwocolatte]

♪ 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓲𝓯𝓾𝓵 𝓫𝓸𝔂 𝄞♭♪ . .

yūta okkotsu x reader ﾉ sfw — domestic fluff ﾉ features a sweet doting reader . . (⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ·̭ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝) ﾉ reader is admiring yūta’s handsum self ( a hundie percent warranted hehe ) ﾉ lottsa lottsa smoochies between reader ‘n yūta . . ﾉ ‘princess’ used as a petname tew refer tew reader ﾉ vrrie yumeshippie coded ‘n self indulgent . .

ohhhh . . . nu words cld ﾉ possibly ﾉ b adequate enough tew describe da sheer gorgeousness of yūta . . i did try m’ vrrie best but .ᐟ .ᐟ he is simply tew beautiful fwor mi tew paint wif jus words alone . . (⸝⸝⸝ᵒ̴̶̷̥́ ⌑ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥̀⸝⸝⸝) doesnt he shine sho pwettily ⭐️ .ᐣ

twinkling like a thousand stars, your eyes shine with a brilliance that could rival the cosmos, the universe itself. you are captivated within his gaze, the pools of cerulean that peer into your own. they hold abundant affection, the adoration evident in the way he regards you, the ardour a tangible thing.

gazing upon his visage, it's easy to lose yourself in the ethereal beauty that is his features. they are sharp, chiselled to perfection, a masterpiece of the gods, an effigy carved from marble. how could anyone compare?

yuuta may be considered average to some, but to you, he is a paragon of celestial splendor. he's the epitome of beauty, the pinnacle of perfection. a small pinch of his essence could send the most stoic of individuals into a frenzy, their minds clouded with the fervour that is him.

to put it simply, the young man is an angel in your eyes. an angel in every sense of the word. the term 'beautiful' fails to encapsulate the full extent of his splendor, the magnitude of his radiance and the depth of his ethereality. but it's all you have to describe him, and so you use it anyway, the adjective a pitiful attempt at expressing the immensity of your devotion.

“beautiful…”

the whisper leaves your lips in a reverent breath, and the sound of it causes the young man to flush a lovely shade of red, the tinge rivalling the vermillion hue of a rose. a shy smile plays at the corners of his mouth, and his teeth are a flash of pearly white as he laughs bashfully. the sound is melodious, a symphony of harmonies that reverberates throughout the room, the tune a cacophony of bells and chimes.

the flush reaches the tips of his ears, and the colour bleeds down the column of his neck, the sight reminiscent of a summer sunset. you can't help but reach out, the desire to stroke his flesh an undeniable pull. and so you do. your digits graze the planes of his visage, the contact feather light and delicate, a whisper against his skin. a lean in to your touch, a pause, a deep breath, and then…

he sighs contentedly, his eyes fluttering shut, the lids a curtain that shrouds his irises— twin windows to his soul. he leans further into your palm now, his profile nuzzling your hand, the gesture tender, loving. a silent plea for more.

and who are you to deny him?

mapping out the contours of his face, you commit each feature to memory, snapshots of him immortalised in your mind.

soft like a dream, his complexion is smooth beneath your fingertips, the texture akin to satin, the skin a silken sheet. his lashes are dark and full, a lush canopy of sable strands that fan out prettily, a feathered brushstrokes against his cheeks. they tickle you— oh, but not as much as the faint cupid’s bow that swiftly steals a kiss from your fingers does, a chaste peck that has you giggling like a fool. the sensation is fleeting, yet the effect lingers, leaving the pair of you smiling fondly.

it's a moment so intimate, the pair of you cocooned within a bubble of your own making, the rest of the world fading into obscurity that a part of you wishes to preserve it. to freeze time, to capture this precious fragment of life and etch it into your soul.

simple, yet exquisite, memories such as these are worth their weight in gold. they're treasures, and you want nothing more than to hoard them, to stow them away in the recesses of your mind, a gallery of cherished remembrances.

with a gentleness that speaks volumes of your feelings, your fingers dance until they meet their destination, the pad of your thumb brushing against his plump lower lip.

the flesh is velvety and inviting, and you can't resist the temptation. you give in, and, with a slight nudge, part his lips, your thumb slipping into the crevice, a small breach, before standing on your tippy toes, feet rising to meet him.

the miniscule space between the pair of you closes, and your breaths mingle, the air shared between your bodies, the heat radiating off of his person and seeping into your own. your nose is a hairsbreadth away from his own, the distance almost non-existent. and, in a moment so quiet and fragile, the tension so palpable it could be slit with a knife, you share a breath.

one, two, three… the beats pass in a pregnant pause. then, with a swiftness that belies his previous timidity, yuuta swoops down, taking your mouth into his.

confectionery sweet and sugar coated, the kiss is a concoction of love and longing, a decadent delicacy you can't seem to get enough of. the taste of him is a nectarine bliss, the sensation a pleasure akin to none. so special, so unique, you doubt there could be anything in this world that could compare.

you indulge yourself, drinking your fill, savouring the flavour of your loved one, the ambrosial treat a luxury. it's a sweet surrender, the submission a mutual one, gooey strings of honeyed saliva connecting the pair of you when you pull away, your bodies clearly unwilling to part.

however, the need for air wins out, and you reluctantly withdraw, the loss keenly felt. a whine, high pitched and petulant, escapes your throat— a child's tantrum, albeit an admittedly justified one.

the separation is a temporary one, though, and you're quickly pacified when peppered across your face are a barrage of kisses, the sticky film of his saliva sweeping over your skin as if to paint a picture. his mouth is an artist's brush, the tip dexterous as it dabs a mélange of imaginary pigments upon your features.

the final kiss lands squarely on your nose, a dot. the finishing touch makes the button twitch, the appendage quivering with a tingle, and the sound that leaves you is an amalgamate of laughter and giggles.

the pair of you are a mess, your visages smeared with the evidence of your affections. and, by the heavens, do you love it. the attestation of his infatuation is a badge of honour, the smudgy slaver a token of his regard. you don't dare to wipe it away. rather, you wear it with pride.

who could blame you? surely not him, judging by the grin he sends your way.

so dazzling, the beam is blinding, the brightness of it akin to that of the sun itself. it's a sight you would die a thousand times to behold.

"you really are the most beautiful boy, yuu.." the compliment tumbles from your mouth unbidden, truthful and raw. your words are nothing but an echo of your thoughts, an unconscious murmur of the musings that occupy your headspace.

"not as beautiful as you are, princess.. not even close." his response is immediate, spoken with that simper of his, the curl of his lips so pretty and soft.

in preparation for a protest, your mouth opens, the objection ready on the tip of your tongue, but a single finger to your lips is all it takes to silence you. a pout forms at the contact, the expression a puerile pucker.

"let me love you." the plea is a soft thing. "let me love you like you deserve. let me love you.. like you love me." yuuta repeats, a quiet request. his tone is a beseeching, the desperation written clear as day across his countenance. it's an entreaty that melts the last dregs of resistance left in you.

so, with a nod, you acquiesce.

you hear a suspire of relief, and then you're swept into the arms of a boy so in love, he's willing to do anything to show you just how much. and as you're carried off into the depths of his heart, the place that's reserved only for you, a singular thought occurs: perhaps, just this once, you'll allow him the win.

for a boy as wonderful as him, there's no harm in giving him the upper hand, is there?

[rambunctioustoons]

haven't properly coloured in ages, have some Moon doodles!