#I decided to do something a little silly for the prompt instead

[toastsartcornerthesequel]

Konbart week day 1 - Rescue

Saving the princess <3

[binmeister]

Hello my friend! I have a good funny story request idea that you may like to do! Well I wanted to see you could do a headcanon/ story on the Saja Boys Au x female!reader where they had a small argument with each other then the reader screams out how there aren’t very funny or loving because there either too serious, sad, rude, airhead or nice which shocks the Saja Boys. Then they decide to play a prank on the reader to prove them wrong ( it can be any type of prank from making them food with something their allergic to plus funny ingredients, trying to scare them, flirt with someone, dress up in something silly, pretending to have amnesia and etc). But when their prank is over instead of getting a laugh or apologize; the reader would either get hurt/hospitalized (physically or emotionally), angry, cry, annoyed and even threaten to leave them ( is also joking as well) which causes them to feel guilty, like a jerk or beg for forgiveness?!!~ (It’s up to you whether or not they forgive them or not!)🤭😅❤️‍🔥😈✨

Pranks gone wrong and some misunderstandings

Saja boys x Reader (Separate)

Thank you for the prompt! I’m not doing anything that severely harms the reader or hurts them because I personally hate ‘pranks’ that go too far like that, but I tried to keep things in that kind of tone where the guys have redemption because they do mean well - may have strayed a lot from the prompt but I hope these are okay 😅

CW: Established relationships, mentions of crying in some prompts, includes the coriander / cilantro soap gene in Mystery’s prompt but you can swap that out for a different gene - mostly gender neutral but for any mentions of she/her you’re welcome to swap it out with preferred pronoun

Not proof read! Sorry for mistakes a lot of word vomit.

Jinu

Jinu was funny, a bit of a quirky and dorky kinda guy but he could be funny when he wanted to be and he liked to think it was something he could be proud of

His singing talent? A little iffy after everything that happened but his humour that he found again while hanging out with you? Yeah. He’s a funny guy

But the insecurities leaked out when both Abs & Romance said that he was kinda unfunny, you teased him with the duo in agreement and normally he can brush it off - roll his eyes and say ‘uh huh, totally’ because he knows you find him funny - its just this time it clung to him and made him self conscious on if you really did find him funny or not or if you just found him funny in the ‘you’re my boyfriend, of course i think you’re funny’

Was he too plain? Did he seem too stiff or was he acting too nice or something? It lead him to message Rumi to ask her if she thought he was funny and obviously - she thought he wasn’t because why would she think he’s funny? She thinks he’s an annoying little brat and he asks her for ideas to make you laugh

Platonic RuJinu for this! misunderstandings are so goofy sometimes

Jinu huffed, eyebrows furrowed as he responded back to Rumi with a little too much venom in his words as he tried to ask her for her honest opinion and didn’t particularly like her answer. Of course he’s funny! You were seated to the left of him on the couch as he continued furiously tapping away, his focus solely on his phone and you felt a twinge of jealousy. Who got him so worked up? He paused and then laughed a little at something Rumi had sent and visibly eased up. That isn’t what you want to see. He’s now laughing and smiling at his phone while you’re literally right next to him. You tried to peer over his shoulder and Jinu had instinctively shifted away, spooked by your sudden appearance and that set alarm bells of in your head.

Now he’s hiding his phone from you? You looked up at him and he saw the flash of hurt and panic in your eyes and he was confused at first, what’s the issue? Then he realised he had shifted away from you while you were trying to look at his phone, something that was normal between you two as you normally scrolled through each other’s feeds to see what memes or goofy clips you could laugh at together. Before you could stand up and walk away from him he grabbed your wrist, pulling you back down onto the couch beside him and shifted to hold your waist so you couldn’t get away despite your attempt to wriggle out of his grasp.

“Woah hey, hey let me explain-” He started out as you elbowed his side in your attempt to escape, he let out a grunt before pulling you even tighter into him. “Rude! You’re stuck in jail now missy.” He huffed out as he pulled you flush against his chest and onto his lap now, glaring at you slightly for the unnecessary blow you dealt him in.

“No it’s fine you can keep texting your girlfriend.” You grumbled out as you tried again to wriggle away and he rolled his eyes, unlocking his phone on the spot and holding it directly where your line of vision was so you could read the text chain for yourself. He was not going to let you walk away all annoyed and mad at him over a misunderstanding.

 J: I’m funny right?

 R: As funny as a pre-schooler

 J: ...rude.  R: But it’s true (˶ᐢ ᵕ ᐢ˶)

 R: Why’re you bothering me  J: I wanna make [Name] laugh  R: Your face probably already does that enough (˶ᐢ ᵕ ᐢ˶)♡

 J: That’d be yours.

 R: She probably thinks you’re funny enough as is, she’s literally your girlfriend?

 R: Idk why though... you’re so blegh

 J: She thinks I’m great.

 R: Suuuuuuure buddy

 R: She could do so much better

 R: Tell her when she’s sick of you I’ll be there for her (˶ᐢ ᵕ ᐢ˶)♡♡

 J: ?????

You couldn’t help the snort that escaped you as you tried not to laugh at Rumi’s blatant insults and jabbing at Jinu, understanding now why Jinu had laughed - rather than out of joy it was out of annoyance cause woooow she totally got him good. He rolled his eyes at you as you calmed down finally, relaxing into his hold as you both watched Rumi’s chat bubble typing away.

 R: [Name] if you’re reading this - I’ll treat you better than he ever could! I know your shoe size unlike this guy ♡

You burst into a fit of laughter at that, she had you there because it was true. Jinu struggled to remember all the different measurements of the people around him - having to keep track of his own as well as the boys; you didn’t expect him to know your measurements even remotely but he’s done a pretty decent job without the exact details.

 J (Name): I might take you up on that offer pookie ♡ - [N]

 R: I KNEW YOU LOVED ME MORE !

“Woooow.” You heard Jinu say he watched your tiny exchange with Rumi, offended that you would pick her over him. He’s literally your boyfriend! He eased up into the couch and let his hold on you loosen up as you looked up at him innocently, both of you letting your burst of jealousy pass now that it was cleared up that it was definitely a misunderstanding. 

“I love you..?” You said, cheeky smile on your face as you said it in a more playful manner than intended as he stared at you blankly before he leant in and pecked your forehead. “...love you too.”

Abs / Abby

He’s goofy, laughs at his own jokes a little too hard but there’s something infectious about his laugh that just makes you start laughing too

Sometimes jokes go over his head but when you explain them to him, he gets it and starts laughing so hard it sounds like he might throw up

He didn’t really care for pranks, he didn’t see why people were so adamant it’s funny to make your partner cry or get upset cause yeah you’re kinda cute when you get annoyed at him but what if he made you cry? He’d feel so bad if he did that

Then there was a day the group was hanging out, you were lounged with him and tucked snuggly into his side as you drew patterns into his side and he occasionally let out a chuckle at the ticklish sensation when he heard Baby call out

“Dude.. did you know you’re kinda a meat head?” He was nonchalant as he randomly insulted Abby and you protested at the rude comment, rejecting the connotation and it made Abby think for a bit

...was he really that stupid? Did everyone think he was dumb? ...did you think he was dumb too? He’s not outwardly the smartest guy ever but he likes to think he was witty and sharp enough that it wasn’t a concern, it’s just sometimes tone in conversations fall flat on his ears - sarcasm is hard to read !

Which lead to this moment, Abby had a pair of fake glasses on as he stood at the kitchen counter across from you and was currently explaining- no. Mansplaining to you about why men were strong and all this bullshit about being a true Alpha and all that garbage. Whatever he dug up on twitter was grating your nerves and you were about to strangle him out if he continued on any longer - it’s been an hour and a half! How can he still blabber on about something he’s never shown interest in before.

“Abby.” You finally shut him up, he froze at your tone and it dawned on him how frustrated you actually are. Despite his size it looked like he shrunk in on himself, as he quietened down to hear what you had to say and his train of his thought was completely caught off - those Alpha podcasts said that this was what human women were into! He swears! He heard them say it.

“I love you dearly,” You began and he smiled a little at that and almost straightened back up until you continued on, “If you say one more word, in regards to whatever the hell this is that you’re spouting at me. We are done.“

His expression froze as he stared at you with wide eyes - was this a break up? Are you breaking up with him because he tried to become smart? Or did he search up all the wrong things and fumble everything. He was panicking and it showed as he instinctively reached across the counter to grab you hands as he fumbled with his words to explain himself, he didn’t actually mean the words he was saying honestly he didn’t even know what half of the stuff being said on the podcast meant and the guy sounded so confident so Abby earnestly thought that it had to be legit! He’s a demon who isn’t used to modern day women and societal norms so the internet was his only option to get information truly.

“I didn’t- I mean I don’t really.. y’know I.” He was tripping over himself, too many thoughts in his head at once and all from his own panic as he tried to rationalise how to explain to you that this wasn’t actually what he thought it was just something he assumed you might like. “I thought you’d like me better if I said stuff like this.. cause I’m a meat head...”

His last few words were a little softer as he admitted what caused him to go on this tirade and you felt bad for him, it wasn’t really his fault that he didn’t understand why those talking points were blatantly disrespectful and you knew for a fact that he could never fathom actually believing in that kind of thing. If he thought anyone was better than anyone else, it’d be from his self confidence in knowing he’s got a great physique and athletic capabilities but he’s always been willing to admit when he couldn’t do something or felt like he wasn’t enough.

“Hey.. I know you don’t think those things and you’re not a meat head.” You shifted your hands to rest on top of his and you could see him visibly relax at that, cheeks dusting a light pink and glowing a little from how dumb and embarrassed he felt right now that he just wasted an hour of your time. “Where’d you even come across this stuff anyway?”

He paused. The one that had sent him this information had walked into the kitchen and was absentmindedly raiding for the fridge for any spicy goodies or any snacks he could steal. You caught the way Abby’s eyes glanced at Baby and you had to stop yourself from body slamming the smaller man.

“Baby.” He turned to look at you, normally bored and smug expression frozen in a mildly alert and panicked one. “We need to talk about something.”

Let’s just say that he hadn’t insulted Abby in a few weeks and was a lot more careful with what he let slip out.

Mystery

A quiet guy, he could take a joke mostly but occasionally would lash out if pushed too far

It was an off-handed comment that didn’t mean much but you had mentioned that you were glad he was calm and easier to handle than the goofier guys - it wasn’t mean to insinuate he wasn’t funny but he took it as an insult unknowingly stewing on it as he thought over ways to ‘prank’ you

Baby and Romance mentioned there were these ‘prank channels’ on youtube and he had watched a couple, the couples in the video always seemed to scream at eachother and then laugh it off so he though the could pull it off as well - bookmarked a video and then proceeded to duplicate the steps in that video

Yeah he can prove he’s goofy and spontaneous !

But he didn’t really understand that the videos weren’t real and were usually staged

“Is this for me?” You questioned, a little awe in your voice as Mystery handed you a plate with a little puff in his chest like he was really proud of what he made for you. It was a simple noodle dish that you’d been craving for a while and this man was sweet enough to learn how to cook it for you... You smiled at him, not second-guessing any ulterior motives and that made him smirk a little. It’s just like the video he watched.

You picked up the fork he had given you and twirled a small rose of noodles onto it, about to lift it to your mouth and go to town when you got a whiff of something that you knew you couldn’t eat. Coriander. You looked up at him, puffing your cheeks out and were a little thrown off about how he decided to throw in coriander into a noodle dish that.. doesn’t require it. He looked a little upset at you for catching onto what he had done and huffed, frustrated that you didn’t necessarily fall for the prank and in turn you got upset at him - he knows you can’t eat it, the dumb gene you complain about frequently enough that makes the stuff taste like soap.

So why’d he do that?

Before you can question him on it he walks away, not wanting to talk to you because now you’ve ruined the prank and it won’t be funny anymore and you’re shocked. He’s upset at you? You huffed as you put away the plate in the fridge, letting it be a free for all for whichever guy came home and was hungry because you sure as hell couldn’t enjoy it with the insane amounts of coriander that had been ground into it. Cut small enough to look like literally any other herb but you knew that smell too well. Jerk.

After that you didn’t talk to each other, from minutes then lead to hours and then even extended to a few days where you weren’t talking at all. No messages. No late night calls. You didn’t even come over to hang out with the other boys because you were so frustrated that Mystery tampered with your food.. It was only this one thing this time but what if you had a more sever allergy? Would he overlook it for some twisted joke? Which only upset you more. Yeah you could’ve just eaten the meal and then told him to correct it for next time.. but you thought he listened and respected you. Did he not?

The overthinking didn’t stop, it got to a point where you were just holed up in your room - hoodie on as you curled into yourself and the tears finally started to come down. You were so annoyed at him, annoyed at yourself for not talking to him, just annoyed at everything. All that frustration over the last few days filled with over thinking and second guessing things made you emotional and you couldn’t stop the tears that kept on flowing. It wasn’t that big of a deal but on a grander scale it really was a big deal because if you can’t trust him with something small could you really trust him with something big?

Your doorbell chimed, you contemplated ignoring it and just crying your eyes out for a few more hours but you went against that thought. Sleeves rubbing your eyes and wiping off the tear stains on your cheeks as you got up and headed over to the door, not bothering to check who it could be because there were very few people who could turn up like this. And of course it was the one you secretly wanted to see the most.

Mystery stood there, his posture less confident than usual as his mouth opened and closed trying to formulate the sentences that he had been practicing at home with the other guys as they walked him through why it’s not a good idea to mess with somebody’s food. He couldn’t get a word out before you reached for him, arms lifted up and he obediently stepped into the foyer with you and wrapped his arms around you - head rested against yours as you sniffle and let the tears fall again.

“That wasn’t nice..” You mumbled into his shirt and he only nodded in response, he honestly expected worse but if you were this nice about it... maybe he could make up for it? He shut your front door behind him, attempting to waddle you both to your room so you could be more comfortable rather than standing in the foyer for whoever knows how long. Soon enough you were situated back on your bed, him sitting up resting against the headboard as he let you curl into his side - his fingers drawing small circles on your back as he let you decide if you wanted to be closer or not - which you opted to do. Shuffling closer and slowly wrapping an arm around his waist as you laid your head on his chest. It was quiet, peaceful like it usually is.

You dozed off, the fatigue from crying and being frustrated for days on end getting to you and the soothing sensation of him continuously drawing patterns on your back lulled you off into a comforting sleep but you caught what he said as you let sleep overcome you... it brought a small smile to your lips as you snuggled closer.

“I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Romance

He knew he was a charming guy, funny? Sometimes. But charming definitely

What he wasn’t expecting was for you to point it out one day while you were hanging out with the guys, Abs had pointed out that Romance was only good at flirting and you had jokingly agreed while laughing - but that joke rubbed him the wrong way

What do you mean you don’t find him funny? You think he’s handsome, charming, the best thing that’s ever happened to you but... you don’t think he’s funny? Hell no he needs to correct that!

All he does is flirt? Pft he can prove you all wrong!

He couldn’t. 

That was a sad pathetic pep talk to himself as he instinctively flirted with the fans that attended the Saja boys fan signing, though he may have been playing it up a bit too much as he was ogled openly by all types of fans that came along. He flirted with the women, the aunties that stopped by, the guys roughly around his age too - he was a simple man! More love to give than he could ever contain within himself. At least that was the persona he put on was.

After the event was over they had returned home and you had sent a text hoping it went well, but he thought it over and decided what he could do to get back at you and the other guys. He wasn’t flirty in his response, didn’t ask how your day was, none of that stuff that he learned from being online or from observing people when they first came to the human world after years of being in the demon realm. Just told you the event went well and that was it, dry.

You blinked at your phone when you saw the dry response from Romance, not particularly something you were used to. He usually had a specific way of texting and this was devoid of any emoticons, emojis, nothing. It made you feel a little uncomfortable and a little upset even. What’s his deal? That continued on for the next couple of hours, you tried to initiate your usual evening conversations and Romance continued to give you dry blunt responses in return. It felt like you were talking to a completely different guy and it started to make you nervous. Is the honey moon phase over? Is this what’s always going to happen now that you were comfortable? He’ll give you crumbs of attention and you just have to savour each piece?

You continued trying that night, trying to get him to talk to you like he usually did and even asking if he had enough energy to talk on the phone. All met with more rejection and more blunt or dry responses. It was like you were message a different Saja boy all together but you knew the other guys relatively well enough to know that they didn’t do that thing, it wasn’t in their books to mess with someone’s phone without saying anything. It was 1am by the time you gave up - each response from Romance had taken longer and longer to get back to you, like he was purposely putting his phone on do not disturb and then remembering half an hour to an hour later that he hadn’t responded. This wasn’t like him and it was genuinely starting to hurt.

You sent one last text - wishing him a goodnight and when you were left on read and no instant reply it made your heart sink. Staring at your ceiling you felt numb now. Your usually doting boyfriend was being so cold to you, you didn’t even care that he flirted with fans! It’s part of the gig and you knew what he did and what his words and actions actually meant when he truly meant what he said. So why was he switching up on you so suddenly? It hurt, it stung. It reminded you of the previous partners you’ve had and the dating horror stories friends had warned you about when their respective exes switched up on them one day and how pathetic it made them feel when they’d keep grovelling for attention. How pathetic it’s making you feel as you anxiously wait for Romance to respond. To say goodnight, tell you he loved you. Call you.

Something.

A few tears leaked out of your eyes and then you felt terrible, it was only one night of being given the cold shoulder and this is where it lead you? Were you too comfortable and safe so now you’re being punished for opening up your heart? You ended up crying yourself to sleep, not remembering when exactly you managed to fall asleep but you did it. Unbeknownst to you Romance was patting himself on the back. He proved it! He isn’t just a flirt and can totally do the cool guy persona. He can’t wait to rub it in your face in the morning that he got you when he checked his phone at the time you usually woke up, he froze.

Where’s his good morning text? He scrolled up the chat log and realised he hadn’t wished you a good night and he frowned at himself, he had to turn off his notifications so he wouldn’t instinctively respond to you every time you sent a message but now he felt bad. He really left you hanging that much in between each reply? Yeah he’s a demon but he knows that a real gentleman doesn’t let someone second-guessing their words. 

 R: Good morning my sweet rose!

 [N]: Hey

 R: I hope you slept well, I’m excited to hear your voice

 [N]: Are you?

 R: Of course I am! I always love to hear your sweet voice

He sent a good morning text to you first, excited to see your reply but wasn’t expecting a simple ‘hey’ in return so after the next messages were exchanged he called you up. He expected your sleepy voice but he didn’t expect to hear you sniffling into the receiver as you picked up, your voice was a little sad and he felt his heart ache a little.

“What’s wrong..?” He asked and you scoffed. Really? He couldn’t tell? Before you could tell him off he excitedly told you what he did yesterday. “I did it! I managed the cool guy thing in our messages, see I’m more than just a flirt.” There was some pride in his voice and some triumph to it too and you felt tears well back up in your eyes as you heard your regular Romance speak to you, like he normally did with that slightly sultry tone and could hear the crinkle in his eyes as he would’ve smiled as he talked.

“You were a jerk.” You responded curtly, a slight edge to your voice as the relief kicked into your body a little. It was just a bit. And not a total shift in personality, thank god.

“..I messed up didn’t I..” Romance said quietly into the phone as he scratched his cheek with his free hand, he definitely owed you a romantic date and he knew it. Your simple hum of agreement reaffirmed that thought and he immediately started going on a tangent about how he’ll make it up to you and that he’s sorry, the little quiet laugh you let out let him know that you weren’t opposed to that either.

Maybe being the ‘flirty one’ wasn’t that bad.

Baby 

Baby doesn’t really exert much energy to talk much when he doesn’t need to, mostly giving one-liners that make you laugh a little too hard because often it’s something unhinged or he points something out that just makes you snort

He doesn’t think he’s the most funny guy ever but you definitely give him an ego boost when you laugh at an off-hand comment he says or when the guys roll their eyes at him

The guys were ragging on him one night - saying that he wasn’t that funny and was an asshole who only knew how to say a mean quip to get some cheap laughs and he was irritated, so what? You liked it so it worked right?

Then he started to think it over.. maybe you were only giving him pity laughs? And that thought in itself pissed him off a bit - he doesn’t want your stupid human pity, he’ll make a different joke and he had the perfect idea

You’re always so forgetful he could probably throw something of yours away and you wouldn’t even notice and then laugh at yourself when you realise what happened - so he did just that

It was just a joke, he didn’t understand why you were staring at him like he killed your family. All he did was throw away some useless piece of jewellery you don’t even wear that often - it was supposed to poke fun at how you always forget about things when you put them down and walk away. How forgetful you are. But you’re not laughing and he doesn’t understand. Why’re you so quiet right now? It should be hilarious - hell he’d laugh too if you threw some useless junk he had out and he didn’t notice for a week.

“Why did you do that..?” Your voice was small as you questioned him, tears welling up in your eyes and he got irritated at that. Why’re you so upset over some dumb piece of metal? 

“Get over yourself, you’re such a crybaby.” He muttered, mouth moving before his mind could catch up and that’s what did it. The tears were falling down your cheeks as your lip quivered, there was such a distinct look of betrayal in your eyes and he was flabbergasted. It was just a joke why’re you crying? He didn’t stop you as you shoved him out of your apartment, you weren’t cursing him out and you didn’t even say goodbye to him as you slammed the door shut in his face. But then he heard the faint sounds of your broken sobs through the door and realised yeah... maybe he was just an asshole. 

He left you alone for a while, thought that maybe giving you a few days would be the right thing to do because if you wanted to talk to him - you’d just message him. You always did. But his phone had no new messages, no missed calls, not even a tag on social media in a meme that reminded you of him. Just radio silence. The other guys knew something was up but didn’t want to push Baby to talk to them, the first time Romance tried to ask if he was alright he snapped at the elder guy that he was fine and things are perfect right now. He was irritated, at you for making him feel confused like this. Yeah he can be an asshole but now you’re being an asshole too by not talking to him about it. 

It’s not like the piece of jewellery would be lost forever, he could just buy you a new one! Then the information was leaked to him from the other guys. Romance had managed to talk to you and was telling Jinu when he overheard where you got that dumb bracelet from. A late gift from an ex-best friend or something, one that had moved away and you were never able to contact again and he was annoyed all over again. You don’t even talk to that person anymore! Why does it matter! He blurted it out and the other two jumped, not realising he had been listening in and then Jinu spelled it out for him.

“It’s the memory associated with it, that’s what matters.” He explained as he looked down with a stern expression, they’re demons and yes their humanity may have been lost to a large extent... but the memories were always something that haunted them. So how could it not effect a human? He reconsidered his frustrations and finally let it go, the next day busying himself with how to make it up to you and he found himself at your doorstep. Knocking softly on the front door and waited for the familiar shuffle of you rushing around and opening the door with a smile. Everything but the last part of the routine was there, you tried to smile at him but it looked like you were still upset so it didn’t reach your eyes and he mentally kicked himself over it.

“Hey-” “I’m sorry.” You couldn’t even greet him before his hand was extended to yours, a small bracelet in his palm that was messy - clearly handmade and not by a professional but it made your lips quirk up in a genuine smile this time. You gently picked it up from his hand and slipped it onto your wrist, the colours were pastel and matched his signature hair colour and a soft baby pink. Not the prettiest thing in the world but there was meaning in it and soon enough Baby found himself wrapped up in your arms, something he hadn’t realised he missed so much in the days without your touch so he graciously accepted the hug and squeezed you lightly in his arms mumbling a complaint into your shoulder about how you can’t just go silent on him out of no where like that again.

Yeah, he may be an asshole but at least you seemed to forgive him for it.

[cherie-doll]

Cod men reaction .

He and reader were on a mall date and reader suddenly stopped to look at a kids toy/a book/a book series. The thing is, reader grown up as the oldest grandchild, they used to have that toy/book(s), but it was ruined by their younger siblings/cousins.

Based on my real situation. Sorry for the broken grammar, I was typing this with one hand while eating pizza.

this reminds me of how i used to collect the archie comics as a kid and i loved reading them until my younger sibling ruined it bc they slobbered all over the pages like a dog, also, i hope that pizza was good i'm lowkey hungry

༢ུ· Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price would turn right away when he noticed you've stopped walking. He's watching you, the skin creasing around his eyes as he smiles and his eyes soften. There's just something to seeing you in awe, recognizing that thing you've wanted for a long time, the nostalgia that must've bubbled up inside of you seeing it again. He'll come up beside you and say "why don't we buy it?".

Simon stared, confused at what could be so interesting, and when he saw it was only a silly stuffed animal. At first he thinks it only caught your attention because it was cute, but it was quite plain, a little ugly looking plush too. But you remember hugging it when you slept as a child, it had a certain smell to it too, until it got ripped apart by your sibling's puppy. You had cried but never got a new one. Without prompting from his part you start telling him the story of how much you loved that thing, and how you still sort of do. Silently nodding and already pulling out his wallet.

Johnny actually pointed out the game you mentioned playing when you were younger, the game you described to him because you couldn't remember the name of it. "Isn't that the game you've been talking about?". You excitedly reply that it is as he picks up the box, your eyes going straight to the price tag but he's already going to checkout to buy it. You ask him what he's doing, "you've been wanting to try it out again, right?" he replies with a smile.

Kyle remembers the time he helped you go through boxes when you moved in with him and how he opened a box filled with old stuff from your childhood. He had found a set of beat up books, some with pages missing, chunks ripped out or with crayon scrawled on them. You tell him it was a series you loved reading as a kid but was messed up by your siblings who played a mean prank on you. He later goes on out and purchases the same set of books and surprised you with them when he arrives home.

Roach once noticed a keychain made of seashells hanging on your bag, some of the shells were broken but it still looked like it had been a pretty little trinket. He played with it, fidgeting with it until he asked you why you still carried the old broken keychain. You tell him it was a gift from your late grandfather that he had made, kids had pulled at it and it had fallen to the floor, breaking in pieces. You had tried fixing it before but were missing pieces. He didn't buy you a new one, instead he spent an evening gathering seashells that looked close to the broken ones and rearranging them in the same order. It was difficult but was worth seeing you happy.

Alejandro could probably late to having to give up your toys to younger siblings or cousins because he had to do the same. So, it feels as if he heals something within himself when you both stop and look at the toys in a secondhand store that bring you a sort of nostalgia. He remembers summers spent playing outside and having to share the toy plane with his siblings. He notices you staring at a toy too and decides to give into making the little kid still in both of you happy.

Rudy has seen how you still keep the little dolls aligned neatly on your shelf. He's noticed how you put up a new one every time you find one when going through your old stuff. He's listened as you tell him how there is one specific doll you remember owning that was your favorite to play with, until it was either taken by some other kid who thrown away accidentally. He spots it at an antique shop and recognizes it because he's always thinking of you. Knowing this will make you feel complete he buys it and excitedly goes home to show you.

Phillip would have been walking along just like any other day he takes you shopping at the mall for you to let some stress out by swiping a credit card. He felt the absence of your hand on his arm and when he turned around he saw you in the toy shop through the glass display. When you held it in your hands, you felt your old emotional attachment to the toy reignite, it was smaller than you remembered but still as secure and comforting as ever. You turn to find Phillip beside you, he only nods, giving you the green light to just go ahead and buy it.

Makarov would hardly deny you from buying anything you wanted. It just strikes him as odd for there to be a change in the pattern you keep of buying clothes, jewelry and other luxurious items for a stuffed animal. But he knew that soft look in your eye, the reminiscing of a memory from long ago still etched in your mind that bloomed in your heart again. His eyes went from plush to you and back to the plush again. He told you to buy it and anymore you might have wanted.

Keegan found it slightly amusing that you had gotten so excited over seeing a children's series you thought had become lost media. He had taken you to the bookstore and instead of finding some cute romcom or some classical piece of literature you ended up in the corner of the kid's book section immersed in rereading the series that had become your escapism when you were a kid. You were going to leave it back where you found it when leaving but Keegan just chuckled and told you to buy the entire series.

König stared curiously at how entranced you were by the plush the kid held in front of you while at the food court. At first, he thought you were having baby fever or something, but really you were more interested in kid's backpack plush. You remember having one as a kid, you used to take it everywhere with you until you lost it, not knowing if one of your parents gave it away. You passed by a store that sold them, and König guided you inside the store to buy one for you. It was funny when the lady at the register asked if it was a gift for your kid.

Horangi knew you always had a thing for collecting adorable figurines, toys, anything that reminded you of when you were a kid. You took care of them so well too, placing them on shelves which he built btw, and dusting them off frequently. When asked why you were so particular about caring for them, you said it was because your old toys were always being broken from your siblings playing too rough with them. It must've broke your little kid heart to see them on the ground, all dirty and chipped off pieces. Now, he is always surprising you with one when he comes back from the store.

Nikto's first thought was that you had picked up the figurine as a gift for one of the kids in your family. At first, he couldn't understand that you were getting it for you, you were staring at the toy so fondly. What memory could have arisen in your mind at the moment? But he recognized the feeling of finding serenity in the little mundane things in life; in your case a toy. He offered to pay for it and as he drove home, he kept glancing over to you and seeing how you had the little thing in your hands, holding it instead of leaving it in the bag. He couldn't even tease you for it.

[juuuulez]

it takes a while for carmy to warm up to the idea of positions besides missionary.

he just loves to see you. it’s intimate, and allows him to kiss you, hold your face, lick your neck. sure, maybe it’s a strain on his back sometimes, but he loves knowing that you’re all comfortable laying there, not needing to do anything but focus on the sensation of pleasure.

one night you decide to switch it up. you tell him, gently, that you’d love for him to hit it from behind. and carmy goes all red and blushing, stammering at the idea of taking you like that, of not being able to see your face.

“what if it’s uncomfortable?” he’ll ask “n i can’t see you, i won’t know.”

and you reassure him for being so silly. “i’ll say something, obviously. don’t be a baby ‘bout it, i’m a big girl.”

his hands shake when they finally clasp your hips, big palms rubbing nervously over the globes of your ass. your back is arched in a smooth slope, face pressed into the pillow, leaving you presented for him like a cat in heat.

now carmy understands. he’s able to get deeper than before in this position, drilling straight down into your sticky cunt, the gravity helping punctuate each of his harsh thrusts.

you moan and writhe beneath him, gasping between each breath that is punched from your lungs. “o-ooh, jesus, fuck—” you practically squeak. “so good, carmy. thank you, thank you.”

the way you appraise him is incessant, causing carmen to drive into you with a newfound burst of energy. one hand holds your hip in a bruising grip, the other finding leverage on the back of your neck, which prompts another drawn-out moan.

he’s more vocal in this position, too.

“yeah? like that?”

“you needed this, huh?”

“s’okay, you can take it, just a bit more. ‘m gonna cum, okay? good fuckin’ girl, lettin’ me fill ya up.”

by the end of it, your ass is red and bruised. it usually doesn’t get this bad because carmy can’t find himself to be rough when he’s staring at your wet little eyes. he kisses it all better, promising to get some sort of cream for next time, a promise that makes you grin.

“thank you, baby.” you’ll coo after he’s done fussing, pressing kisses into his cheek. “trying new things is fun, right?”

and usually, carmen doesn’t like admitting that he’s wrong, but this was worth it. his cheeks are hot as he dips his head down, evading your kisses to instead bite at your shoulder.

“yeah, yeah.” he grumbles. “don’t get a big head ‘bout it.”

[killishin]

domestic hcs with dick grayson

here's the jason one.

again, heavily inspired by prompts from this post by @novelbear (her prompts always manage to get my mind running)

dividers by @cafekitsune

dick was someone you couldn't help but love immediately. you had an instant crush on him, your friendship was even better. his charm was always something you couldn't resist. to everyone else the tension was crystal clear, if not suffocating. so it wasn't a surprise when you got together with him, just a bunch of relieved sighs.

it didn't take much time before both of you fell into a tandem, like in sync. he just knew what you needed, when you needed. his way of loving was open and free, he didn't shy away from loving you loudly, it wasn't annoying— it made you feel utterly loved.

living with him had its surprises everyday, it was the little things, it always made you sleep with a smile. domesticity was like a blessing with a person like dick.

and those little moments were as sweet as they were silly.

"dick no! don't do that!" you quietly groaned yet instead of moving your head away you further leaned back. you were sat on the floor while dick was on the couch with you between his legs. his hands were carding through your hair, his nails scratching your scalp gently— its a bliss, pure bliss. you always doze off when he does that.

"do what?" he asked amusingly as he tilted your head back for a second to see your helpless smile. he then looked up to see what you were browsing through before seeing you stop at that one series that you always slept through.

"this again?" he scoffed as his hands stopped, "you always fall asleep half way through an episode."

you fake an inaudible gasp in offence as you jab at his leg with your elbow, "i do not."

"i speak with evidence." he has taken several pics of you sleeping open mouthed every time you doze off while watching that show.

"well— well you always do this whenever we're watching that." you point to his hands in your hair, "so its your fault that i sleep. technically."

"that so?" he muses as he leans down to catch your eyes, "so i should stop hm? " he begins to pull away before you hold them at their place.

"i will murder you."

he simply laughs under his breath which you ignore as you pretend to focus on the show, and he decided that instead of brushing your hair, he'll braid. so he does, and it turns out very pretty and neat too.

but then he realises the slight weight on his thigh, and thats when he notices your head lolling to the side, completely squishing a cheek against his thigh. he looks up and like he said, the episode isn't even halfway done.

despite the urge to be smug about his words, his eyes are fond as he peers down at you, poking at your puffed cheek gently. he leans down and presses a kiss on your forehead, admiring you for a moment longer.

a million thoughts running through his mind and yet he stops at one.

he takes out his phone and takes endless pics from every embarrassing angle imaginable.

after all, evidence.

a vigilante's life isn't easy. nights are spent cleaning up the streets, sniffing out the criminals— then there are tough nights where they are lucky to leave in one piece. its demanding, excruciating. so a lot of his time is understandably dedicated to it.

but he is also dedicated to you, so he always directs his full attention to you when you come back from a tiring day at work, full of gossips and complaints. and he's happy to hear them all.

like right now, you're chattering away about some office gossip, all animated and hurried while sitting on the counter with dick standing in between your thighs. he's holding a pint of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in another. his brows are furrowed in absolute concentration, like he's hanging onto every word you're saying.

and he is, of course, but his attention is divided by your lips. they're too distracting!

"that guy is such an asshole you know—" you stopped as he fed you a spoon, and you gulped it down quickly to continue, "he always used to pick on me, but after that complaint— i thought he might have straightened up but nooo-" another spoon. "now, he's picking on some poor new guy."

"a real piece of work." dick scoffed and you nodded, "i know right!" you licked the side of your lips, getting that cream off and dick swears under his breath, his jaw clenching a mere second.

"oh yes! you know Sal? the one who threw coffee at—"

"yes cheating ex boyfriend in the cafe opposite to your office." he completed as he held the spoon, brows still furrowed as he tried his best to not stare at your lips.

"yes!" you gulped down before continuing again, "yes her. so.." forgive him for doing this. after feeding you he licked the spoon slowly, yet innocently all while holding contact. he knows exactly what he's doing.

you paused at your words as your brows furrowed, "her.... what are you doing?" your eyes immediately narrowed in suspicion. you'd be an idiot to not know that look by now.

"what? im just listening to my pretty lover." he answered innocently, the corner of his lips almost tugging up.

"ah i get it." you chuckle under your breath as you shake your head and he simply appears confused, though a laugh escapes him too. "what? can i not call my lover pretty?"

"oh you coy little thing." you grinned as you hooked a finger on the collar of his tshirt and pulled him close.

"little? hey im bigger—"

"shut it."

you liked cooking on your day offs, you could take your time and experiment. it helped to unwind from the week's stress. so you kept dick away from the kitchen until everything's done to not add onto that stress.

"dick?" you called out gently and upon hearing no reply, your brows furrow as you lean your weight on your other foot while your hand rested on your hip, "grayson!" this one wasn't so gentle.

"i said im coming!" he called out frantically, his rushed steps stopping right in front of you, a small over dramatic pout on his face.

"did you?"

"i did!"

his pout deepened when you gave him a unimpressed side eye. "anyway, taste this for me hm?" you look back down at the piping hot food you made, taking a spoonful before raising it to your lips to blow on it.

he had literal heart eyes as he awaited patiently, he loved your food. says he's the number one fan, and compliments every time you cook. he was the one who told alfred about your "magnificent" skills, his words, and thanks to him, you got tons of little tips from alfred.

after blowing on it a few times you raised it to his lips, holding another hand right under his chin while he leaned down. it may be a small thing but this particular moment, whenever you made him taste your food, like this, it made his heart flutter worse than when he confessed.

"sweet god thats amazing!" he moaned, almost obscenely and you cringe at it before your eyes went to the little broth trickling down the side of his lips.

"the sounds you make.." you tutted as you wiped the broth off his lips and licked your thumb.

he froze.

his eyes stayed stuck to your lips for a moment, his ears tuning out everything else as blood rushed to his face.

"shit that was hot." he mumbled to himself as he exhaled heavily while rubbing his eyes and you paused to look at him in confusion.

"but i blew on it."

"what? no not the food—" he paused to give you a pointed look, "are you acting coy or are you seriously that dense?"

"hey im not dens—"

but he was a fast man, always was. immediately turning off the stove he grabbed you by your hips and hoisted you up before settling you on the counter. your eyes widened but before you could protest his mouth was already on yours, urgent and heated.

maybe you were dense.

dick grayson's love language is physical touch. but its not just that he likes touching his partner, but he feels safe feeling them close, he needs the warmth to ground himself, anchor himself to them so his demons won't tear him apart.

and that, follows to bed. he's a very cuddly sleeper. he needs to feel some part of you while sleeping, and its beyond a habit now. its like second nature to him.

sometimes he's draped over you, or the other way around. sometimes he curls in your arms like a little fluff ball, he likes being held too. but most times he has an iron grip around your waist. barely ever lets go, even when you have to pee.

"i have to pee— dick let go." you sleepily groan as you swat at his arm but its like an immovable rock. he simply groans in his sleep before going quiet and you mentally cry, because your bladder is begging you. how can a vigilante be such a heavy sleeper?

he isn't, he hears you but he truly doesn't want to let go.

"dick babe let go i really gotta pee come on." you whine as you pry his arm off, try to. he further nuzzles his face in your shoulder while pulling you even more closer, if that was even possible with the negligent space between you two.

but upon continous pestering, when his sleep was offically ruined he lets you go with something thats between a grumble and a whine.

"what are you doing out of bed?" he asked as if you didn't just tell him that a hundred times.

"for the love of god, i need to pee."

"come fast."

"i might just sleep in the bathroom."

your job might not be as demanding and life-threatening like his, but it does make you rise up way too early for your comfort.

and somehow, for some unknown reasons to you, he likes to be a little shit in the morning. it wasn't intentional at first, but when he saw the annoyed little frown at your face that was more like a pout to him, it made his heart crash. and laugh evil like a maniac.

"dick get the hell out of there!" you yell as you pound at the bathroom door, rubbing your face helplessly before whining again.

“i told you i have a meeting in an hour! get out of the bathroom!” you bang your fists at the door again before looking up at the ceiling as if praying to every power in the universe to give you patience and strength. strength to beat the crap out of him.

"dick i swear to god I'll kill—" you stumble as he suddenly opens the door, not even bothering to feign innocence, instead he's grinning wide and toothy.

"you jerk." you inhale slowly as you point a finger at him, glaring at him with narrowed eyes.

"yes my love?" he has the audacity to say before leaning down and resting his chin on the tip of your finger, tilting his head a bit with that mischievous glint in his eyes that you so love.

"you do this everytime im late! deliberately! " you accuse and he just laughs before wrapping his arms around your waist as if to gather you up from the floor.

"i do? well im so sorry." he said with the most cheeky smile ever and your glare deepens. "this isn't a laughing mat– hey- hey stop it—"

he starts to lean down and pepper kisses all over your face, even when you bend away he follows right over, his hand splayed on your back to support you.

"im sorry." a small peck, "really really sorry." a proper kiss, "forgive me?" bombards you with kisses.

well... he sure is lucky he has an adorable face. damn him.

but you're just as chaotic as him, maybe you weren't before but people in a healthy relationships do learn a thing or two from their partner.

and so did you.

"babe! babe!" dick comes rushing, his eyes scanning the whole room with frantic eyes, before stopping at the washing machine. horror and panic seeped in his eyes as he saw the machine was rinsing the clothes at the moment, draining the water out.

"did you just put my hoodie in the wash?" he asked, praying you didn't. you raised a brow before putting a hand on your hip, "yeah? why? it had a stain remember?"

"love, my phone was in there!" he immediately rushed to the machine, switching it off before opening it.

"dick what the hell—"

he rummaged through, his hands getting all wet till his forearms while the panic in his eyes increased. but he couldn't feel his phone in there, his brows furrowed and he turned to you in confusion. but paused at the sight of you biting your lips, wheezing quietly.

"wha— where's my pho—" you slowly pulled his phone from your pocket, holding it up. silence ensued as he stared at you deadpanned while you cackled loudly.

and then you both bolted.

"you're such an idiot oh my god!" you laughed as tears blurred your vision while you ran for your life, around the living room with him quick on his feet.

"stop running baby its just a matter of when." he called out, eerily calm and you let out a helpless groan before sprinting for the bedroom.

and you had the wishful thinking that you'd outrun your vigilante boyfriend.

his arm hooked around your waist and he yanked you back towards him, your back hitting his chest. your clothes got damp due to his arms still being wet.

"nooo! no you got my clothes wet!" you groaned through your giggles. his smile widened at the sound of your laugh, cheeks reddening and heart warming.

"yeah baby? should have thought this through you know." he murmured amusingly against your ear, making you squirm in his hold.

he swiftly turned you around before grabbing your face, with his wet hands and smashed his lips on yours before you could yell at him. you could feel him smiling against your lips, making the butterflies go all chaotic. you didn't even register the soft moan that escaped your lips and he pulled away with a chuckle, his mischievous eyes filled with delight and mirth.

he pecked your lips again before booping your nose, "we're even now."

dick may have his charm on most of the time, his confidence unwavering. but there are also times when he is nervous.

"im home!"

you got up from your bed and walk out of the bedroom with a soft smile on your lips.

"hey— oh! whats that?" your eyes widen before you rush to him, staring at the bouquet of lillies with awe.

he brushes his hair back before rubbing his nape with a hesitant smile, his eyes darting from your face to the flowers that you take in your hand. "you were talking about that table there being a little...bare, so i got you some flowers to put in it's space."

his eyes pause at your face, a small smile coming on his lips, one filled with fondness. he was nervous, what if you won't like it? what if it doesn't look good at that particular place? he hides those concerns behind that pretty smile.

you look up at him and your smile widens helplessly. you keep the bouquet aside on the coffee table before wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him close.

"aren't you the sweetest?"

"yeah?"

you hum before pecking his cheeks, his nose and finally his lips. "you like em?" he tilts his head, and behind the assured smile is a need to make sure, make sure that he is indeed loving you right.

"mhm."

dick lives for those over the top, dramatic confessions of love, kissing under the rain, getting you all charmed with ease— but these small, sweet and slow moments... they stick in his mind. they stay and carve out a special place in his heart.

and a silly yet sweet domestic life is all he wants, all with you.

"by the way did you finish that show I've been wanting to see since a week...all by yourself?"

"....yeah about that—"

NOTE: somehow this one became longer than jason's.

reblogs are appreciated! :D

[captain-huggy-bear]

Squish Time

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Anxiety, panic attacks, mental health

Summary: Sometimes there is only one way to regulate your nervous system and that is squish time.

Notes: In honour of my anxiety disorder and the fact that sometimes I just want a hockey player to squish me into a mattress to help my brain regulate itself. 👍

2 fics in one day? More likely than you think.

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

You've had anxiety for as long as you can remember, more of your life had been spent worrying about seemingly silly little things, adrenaline buzzing through your system, than not. It's something you've learnt to deal with and over the years, the work you've put in has made it less of an issue. You have your mechanisms to minimise it, to cope, to enjoy your life and keep panic attacks to a minimum but that doesn't mean that they don't ever happen. Sometimes they happen without any explanation, like your body has been storing up anxiety for a random moment.

It hits you slowly, a winding sort of buzzing through your veins like a thousand bees have decided to make their way into your body and start an orchestra or brass band. It's a familiar but unpleasant sensation that has you wandering around the apartment hands tapping any surface you find in an attempt to expell the sudden burst of adrenaline.

Your heart races, palpitations that feel so strong in your chest that you're certain your heart wants to leap out of your chest and run halfway across the world. Sounds feel dull, deadened like you're underwater, a muffled sense of everything being distant, not there, not with you, taking over. Then the sick feeling hits, like you might be sick at any moment, queasiness hitting you just to add to the other issues. Despite it all, you try to manage it on your own, even knowing Quinn is a room over, you don't want to bother him. Instead you pace and pace and pace even as you struggle to breathe.

It's your pacing, the sound of your feet urgently moving back and forth, around in circles that has Quinn popping his head out of the bedroom where he'd been sorting laundry.

Green eyes assess you, trailing from head to toe. You're biting your lip so hard he's certain you're going to break skin, while your entire body is shaking as you pace, like you've drunk 4 redbulls in quick success or just run a marathon. But it's the way you cycle through various stimms, fingers tapping together in rhythm to try and ground yourself, as your chest heaves in an attempt to get more air in your lungs that really tips him off.

"You okay, baby?"

Your reaction is instant, a sharp turn towards him, eyes wide, head shaking back and forth as tears well in your eyes like you might just cry the Niagra Falls. You look so fucking fragile and he hates it more than anything.

"Okay, okay, c'mere..." He's over to you in three long strides, pulling you tight against his chest, pressing your face into him. You're shaking so hard that it feels like you're a phone on vibrate, like you might blow away in the wind.

It's not everyday you get like this, a rare occurance more so lately, but Quinn's seen it enough to know his options, the sorts of things that do and don't help. Sometimes it just takes his arms around you, a tight grip, as his hands rub paths up and down your back. Sometimes merely the sense of being held for a few moments, the smell of his cologne and the beat of his heart under your ear is enough to ground you.

He can sense that today that's not enough. The way you shake doesn't let up, not even after two minutes of him holding you, there's this calm collectedness to him that hits. A sense that there's a problem, he needs to find a solution and he needs to do so without panicking. Call it his background as a big brother or maybe just being captain of the Canucks, but he sets his own worry aside, his own panic bricked up into a little room.

"You need squish time?" Quinn's voice would be loud to anyone else, heck its loud to his own ears, but muffled to you. He knows how the panic muffles everything for you, the way sounds are quieter, duller, you've told him time and time again that you feel deaf when you're in a panic, so he forces his voice louder to accommodate.

The instant you nod your head, he's moving you to the bedroom, shoving laundry on the floor, not worrying about the mess and helping you to lie on the bed on your back. He's careful to pop pillows under your head and neck for support. There's very little preamble, no real hesitation before he's crawling all 180 pounds of himself up and over you, flopping down ontop of you like a living weighted blanket.

The first time you'd asked for squish time he'd been terrified that he'd hurt you. That you're shallow breathing would be made worse by him compressing you into the mattress, but over time he'd learnt that it was needed sometimes. There was some sort of natural reset that happened to your body when he laid on top of you, a sort of nervous system do over that helped you to ground yourself when all else failed. Squish time was like the fail safe.

For you it was grounding, all encompassing, to feel the weight of Quinn ontop of you in that moment, the way the mattress rose to meet you, the sensation of the blankets under you, his clothes atop you. The weight of him pressing down until you felt surrounded by Quinn. It helped you to calm yourself, so you were thankful in that moment for the 180 pounds of hockey player squishing you, the way your arms wrapped around his waist, the sensation of his hoodie under your fingertips. You were thankful for the way the smell of his cologne and your laundry detergent surrounded you, how you could feel your breaths pushing up against his chest, the resistance calming, the way his face pressed into the crook of your neck like he could use his entire body to shield you from the outside world.

Each breath you took underneath him helped, each moment of being squashed was grounding. You found it easier to focus on the fact you were there, you were safe, you were okay. Each moment drained the adrenaline from your system like Quinn had opened the bee hive to let the swarm of bees escape your bloodstream. Like he'd physically removed the adrenaline himself.

Quinn doesn't even consider moving until he can feel your entire body go boneless, relaxed, till your breaths are even and slow. Even then he just lifts his head to look at you, arms bracketing either side of your head.

"Better?" You look exhausted, in the way you usually do after a panic attack, the influx of adrenaline having worn off and leaving you completely drained.

"Mmm, much better, thank you." You blink at him almost sleepily, but your smile is thankful, Quinn can't help but push forward and press a lazy kiss to your cheek, still keeping most of his weight on you.

"Don't need to thank me, baby, it's what i'm here for. 'm always going to look after you." He means it. He's pretty sure he has 2 goals in life: play good hockey and look after you. The latter he hopes he does for his entire life, it never feels like a chore to help you, he enjoys doing it. He likes that he can calm you down from a panic and that he knows how to make you smile after a long day. You make him feel needed, wanted.

"Can we just lie like this for a little longer?"

"Course. No rush, baby." Quinn settles himself back down on you, face pressed into your neck as your own does the same to him. The two of you lie like that for a while, until the weight of him stops being comforting and becomes a little too claustraphobic and constricting.

[gracie-eilish]

4💛 please?

“oh baby…”

prompt list

for such a stereotypically lucky day, yours was filled with bad luck.

you awoke to the sound of your alarm… and the most devastating cramps you’ve ever felt… and you weren’t even on your period. so you decided to get up and eat a little something hoping to soothe the ache before getting in the shower.

your “quick” shower turned into you running late. so now you had no time to blow dry your now curly and frizzy hair due to the humidity. and turns out your jeans you left out to air dry last night, weren’t dry. so you spent ten minutes blow drying your jeans instead making you even more late.

after barely making it on time, your day at work dragged, other people weren’t on time, new employees didn’t know how to do their jobs and made yours harder. and now at the end of your day, you sat in your car staring at the garage door just needing your brain to turn off.

“oh baby…” billie winced as she saw you walk through her studio door.

your eyeliner was smudged everywhere, hair was thrown haphazardly in a clip and your energy was drained, even after making a pit stop to your bedroom to throw on sweats.

“what happened love?” she implored, reaching out her hand so you could join her. you plopped down into her lap, wrapping your arms around her waist like a baby koala, and explained everything. billie didn’t say much, she just held you and rubbed your back softly, giggling when you giggled about how silly you looked blow drying your jeans.

when you finished you sighed, nuzzling your face into her neck, relaxing further into you.

“i love when you do that,” she said with a small smile.

“do what?”

“when you sigh into me, i can literally feel your body relaxing into me when you do it. makes me feel all warm and fuzzy,” she replied, a twinge of a blush appearing on her cheeks. you sat back enough to kiss her cheek before returning to your snuggly spot, getting comfy again.

she just pressed a kiss to the top of your head before returning to her project she was working on, already hearing your breathing even out on her shoulder.

“go to sleep lovey, i’ll wake you for dinner later. promise,” you nodded sleepily before letting yourself drift off to the feeling of tiny kisses on your head and billie’s perfect voice through her speakers.

[queenpiranhadon]

what are your thoughts on katsuki's reaction when he finds out his partner has the same spice tolerance as him...

A/N: Oh, anon don't worry I have MORE than just thoughts... I actually love this prompt so I'm gonna write it a little differently than usual :) Here's the masterlist!

Warning(s): Cursing, reader likes spicy food, second or third year-ish, fluff, pre-established relationship, standard partner nicknames are used - dummy, babe, baby, etc, reader is gn but is written with f!reader in mind, double dates but it's just silly goofy

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader, Mina Ashido x Ejiro Kirishima

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴡᴀꜱᴀʙɪ ─────•°•☁︎•°•────•

So from your wording, Bakugou finds out about your spice preferences at some point during your relationship, instead of before, which I don't think is as plausible because of his insane perception skills (he probably knows more about you than even you do before you guys even start dating- my man is a closeted nerd and you can't convince me otherwise). But if he did find out while you two were dating, the outcome would be hilarious.

Let's say you're in the UA dorms, whether you're in the hero course on not, you're just chilling in the kitchen waiting for your boyfriend to meet you downstairs. Class 1-A loves you a ton, and even though they tease you and Bakugou a lot, you both end up having a lot of Netflix and chill dates in the common room since the TV there has a shit ton of streaming services.

You put down your phone, sighing, and decide to be a little more productive instead- making your way to the common room to pick out a movie. It was tradition, between you, Katsuki, Kirishima and Mina to watch movies together every now and then as a double date- something Katsuki was adverse to but you knew he secretly enjoyed the chaos that ensued whenever the four of you were together- also realizing that if they weren't in his line of sight, they'd probably end up blowing up the dorms by accident anyways. He'd only said this once though, face turning bright red as you teasingly called him a mother hen.

Mina and Kirishima had started dating a few months ago (you and Katsuki had celebrated your 1 year anniversary two weeks prior to it ) and being the friend group you were, who could pass up an opportunity?. Kirishima and Katsuki very best friends, as were you and Mina, so it was a no-brainer that the four of you would have regular get togethers like this in the first place. You thought it was nice, seeing Katsuki interact with his friends as he relaxed, even if only a little, around his close friends.

You settle yourself down in the plush couch across from the TV screen, and feel the cushions dip as a new weight is added, seeing Mina Ashido plopping down next to you.

"Movie night!" she cheers, and she nudges you with her shoulder. "Some day we gotta ditch the boys and get through a movie marathon together- I swear Eji has the worst taste in movies, if I have to watch another Star Wa-"

"Hey! My taste isn't that bad!" Kirishima whines, coming up behind the both of you with Katsuki in tow. "Plus you keep asking to watch those K-dramas that get your mascara running."

Mina raises an eyebrow. "Eji, you cry more than I do during those."

Katsuki sighs and raises his hand in an attempt for peace. "Oi, shut yer mouths and go grab the pillows and blankets. Y/N and I will order food and pick out the movie."

Mina groans but relents, looking at you pleadingly. "Please chose a good movie - no ‘to be continued’s PLEASE"."

You snort, remembering how one time Kirishima had chosen Captain America: The Winter Soldier, which prompted the four of you to binge the entire MCU on a day without classes.

Scrolling through movies, you decide to choose a classic- the Matrix, something action packed enough to keep Kirishima (and Katsuki's) attention, and something with enough romance to keep Mina hooked.

As you navigate through the countless streaming services, Katsuki's voice pops up behind you.

"Oi, babe what do ya want to eat? Got some rolls dipped in wasabi for myself...I already know Shitty Hair's gonna ask for some chicken wings- an I got some tacos for Pinky cause I know she was whinin about cravin Mexican food earlier..."" He trails off, embarrassed when you grin knowingly in his direction.

You decide to be merciful though, shrugging and returning back to the TV. "I know very well that you're going to order from three different places just so all of us get what we want so I'll just share with you." you smile, and Bakugou's heart thumps softly from your thoughtfulness.

"Tch- whatever dummy. What do ya want in them- I know my rolls are pretty fuckin spicy - avocado, shrimp, cr-" He asks, but you cut his off with a bewildered look.

"What? Why wouldn't I get it with wasabi??" You ask dumbfounded. "That's like 85% of the flavor - plus it's kinda boring without it." you say, and your boyfriend's jaw drops open- as if you'd told him you were pregnant of something.

"Marry me."

You want to burst out in giggles, but stop when you see the deadass look on his face.

"Kats-"

"Jesus Christ baby, of all the shit ya hide from me, ya hide the most important one?!" He asks incredulously and that's when you start laughing.

"If ya told me this shit sooner I would've asked yer ass out the moment I met ya."

[babybearnation]

Gamer Lando Norris x streamer reader doing their first stream reader, Lando gets hit by a freight train that is reader and falls hard and i mean HARD for them (I'm not asking for smut but I realized thats uh a little suggestive so if you wanna incorporate suggestiveness i definitely wouldn't protest 🫣)

-🦊

twitch streamer!lando norris x male!twitch streamer!reader

cw: briefly suggestive

you didn't know lando and lando didn't know you

but you knew george, and george knew lando, so there you go

lando, george, alex & charles had agreed to stream together, but they needed a fifth, not wanting to risk playing with a random

george suggested you which made alex & charles choke and left lando very confused

who tf were you?? and why were alex & charles so shocked??

he agreed before doing some research, quickly realising why alex and charles were so stunned by george's suggestion

you were huge within the world of twitch streaming and lando was confused as to how he hadn't met you or encountered you before

he really hopes you say yes because you're hot and lando doesn't mind looking at eye candy for a few hours

you end up agreeing and lando is secretly delighted

the day of the stream rolls around and lando is absolutely not at all prepared to meet you

not only are you hot, you're funny, you have a nice voice, you're a bit of a sweet talker and when lando flirts, you flirt back

halfway through the stream, george privately dms lando, telling him his crush is obvious and he needs to relax

he dials back his enthusiasm after that, worried he upset you and you got george to tell him

you notice this change and decide to dm lando yourself, asking if he was okay and if he needed anything

lando sends you a misspelled to hell apology, explaining that he didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with his flirting and he'll be okay if you never wanna stream together again

you're not sure how to respond over text so you call him, lighting up when he answers almost instantly

your feelings quickly burst out of you, babbles of how you found him charming and how you were so upset when he stopped flirting with you spilling forth

lando is honestly shocked into silence and you worry you've done something wrong now when lando speaks up

"lemme suck your dick"

your laughter bubbles out of you and lando starts giggling too, his camera flickering on seconds later

he's sleepy, rumpled and so adorable looking that you can't stop yourself from asking him to be your boyfriend

lando's eyes widen before he shyly says he wants to get to know you a bit better first

you agree and apologise for being so blunt, which makes lando smile oh so sweetly at you

lando reminds you that he was blunt earlier but also he's about to be blunt again, which has you confused

and that's when lando asks to come visit you

you eagerly agree, excitedly giving him your location, before you a yawn rips through your system, prompting you to say goodbye and go to bed

lando comes to visit you a few weeks later and you take him out on the town, treating him to a nice meal at a restaurant before taking him back to your place

you had planned to go live with george again that night but you switch up your plans, opting instead to play something with lando

your chat loves seeing you two together and when george pops up in chat, you and lando laugh yourself to tears over his silly jokes about you two betraying him

once the stream is over, lando decides to slip under your desk and give you some support, if you catch my drift

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[p0orbaby]

Could you write something about reader having surgery? Leah worrying about her & getting super stressed out x

-

Leah’s pacing. Of course she is. She’s wearing the trainers that squeak on the hospital floor, the ones you begged her to throw away three months ago. “They’ve got character,” she said then, like that was a reasonable argument for keeping footwear that sounded like an off-brand comedy gag every time she took a step. Now, the sound feels like a metronome for her anxiety.

She’s also muttering under her breath, something about waiting rooms being designed to drive people mad. “Why is there always a random fish tank?” she asks no one in particular, gesturing at the gurgling monstrosity in the corner. “Like, is that meant to be calming? Watching a clownfish swim into a plastic castle?”

Kim, who you bullied into babysitting Leah while you’re in surgery, hums noncommittally and sips her tea. It’s the worst thing she could’ve done because it prompts Leah to snap, “You’re too calm. Why are you so calm?”

“Because it’s a routine procedure,” Kim replies, her tone so even it borders on condescending. “She’ll be fine, Leah”

But Leah doesn’t look convinced. She crosses her arms, leans against the wall, then decides against it and resumes pacing. “Routine doesn’t mean risk-free,” she mutters. “What if they mix up her file with someone else’s? What if they give her a kidney transplant instead of fixing her knee?”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” Kim asks, barely suppressing a laugh.

Leah whirls around. “Anything’s possible, Kim. Hospitals are chaos. I’ve read articles”

Kim just shakes her head and goes back to scrolling her phone, clearly regretting agreeing to this.

Leah’s still fidgeting when the surgeon finally appears. The man is smiling, calm and professional, but she doesn’t let her guard down. Not even when he says, “The operation went smoothly. She’s in recovery now”

“Define smoothly,” Leah demands, squinting at him like he’s lying. “No complications? No close calls? You didn’t drop anything inside her, did you?”

“Leah!” Kim hisses, mortified.

The surgeon, to his credit, only blinks. “She’s fine,” he repeats, clearly accustomed to this brand of hysteria. “You can see her shortly”

Leah doesn’t wait. She marches down the hall like she’s storming the pitch, the squeaking of her trainers echoing behind her.

When she reaches your room, you’re half-conscious, propped up in bed with a silly-looking hospital gown that does nothing for your dignity. Your eyes flutter open at the sound of her trainers, and you manage a groggy smile.

“You’re here,” you mumble, your voice sluggish from the anaesthetic.

“Of course I’m here,” Leah says, pulling a chair up to your bedside. “How do you feel? Do you need water? Ice? A lawyer in case something went wrong?”

You blink at her, too out of it to process her rambling. “I think they gave me morphine. I feel amazing”

Leah exhales sharply, her hands twitching like she wants to touch you but isn’t sure where. “Good. That’s good. You look… fine. A bit pale. But fine”

“Thanks,” you slur. “You look sexy”

She finally smiles, though it’s small and a little wobbly. “You scared the hell out of me, you know”

You try to reach for her hand but miss by a mile. “Sorry. Love you”

Her expression softens, and she takes your hand, squeezing it gently. “Love you too. Just… don’t ever make me do this again, yeah?”

“No promises,” you mumble, already drifting back to sleep.

Leah stays by your side the entire time, even when the nurse comes in and politely asks her to stop squeaking her trainers against the floor.

[goodlucktai]

9, raph and leo?

dialogue prompts

9. “I know, I know it hurts.”

x

When Raph was eight years old, the twins decided they needed their own bedrooms and, like with all other things they had ever decided, they made it everyone else’s problem. As a united front, the two of them had the capacity to wear down a squad of Navy Seals in a manner of days, let alone one overtired single father. 

The campaign for separate bedrooms turned out to be a long con. Donnie had been denied an evil science laboratory by Splinter multiple times, on the grounds of it being dangerous, and Donnie being seven, and evil being bad. But a room of his own could be whatever he wanted, and he wanted a lab. 

It took most of a week for Splinter to discover that the twins were still doubled up in the room that was ostensibly Leo’s while Donnie’s was being used for nefarious purposes, but by then Donnie had installed an electronic lock on the door that he built out of components gutted from old kitchen appliances and was fully ready to die on that hill. 

While Pops and Donnie were locked in a contest of wills that would ultimately go in Donnie’s favor (because Splinter’s achilles heel back then—and even now—was that he thought little turtles at their most sulky and unreasonable were just adorable) Raphie had looked at Leo with a confused frown on his face. 

“How come you went along with it, Lee? You didn’t even get your own room.”

Leo shrugged, bright gold eyes shining with interest as he watched his twin and his father argue back and forth. He was following it carefully, probably ready to join in if it looked like Donnie was going to lose—more engaged than he ever was playing video games or flipping through comics. 

At the time, all Leo said was, “Just wanted to see if I could.”

Raph thought it was because he was a troublemaker, and he maintained that idea up until Mikey—intuitive beyond his years, even as a sweet little six year old—said he figured it was just that Leo’s head went as crazy fast as Donnie’s did, only in ways that didn’t involve breaking and building things. 

A full decade later, Raph knows Mikey was right on the money. Looking back, he sees a kid who was wickedly smart and terribly understimulated. Leo didn’t create trouble for the heck of it, he just liked having problems to solve. He wanted conversations and tricks and puzzles, he needed hoops to jump through like dolphins did on TV, or else he’d get cranky and sneaky. 

Their world became a much simpler, more peaceful place once Leo got his first phone and discovered an online chess app with a leaderboard. 

All this to say, Leo has had a mind for strategy since before he could talk in full sentences. He’s a natural-born leader, and after the failed Krang invasion, he really stepped up and took it seriously. Raph is so proud of him he doesn’t have words big enough to contain the size and shape of it all. It isn’t as hard as he had imagined it would be to let go of the reins and give Leo the room he needs to shine. 

Some days are better than others. For the most part, Leo says jump and his brothers don’t even ask how high, they just shoot for the rafters. Their teamwork is cohesive, as solid as it was when they initially realized their ninpo, and Raph thinks he’d feel sorry for the Shredder if that guy showed his face in their town again. 

But there are also days like today, when Leo says something that Raph’s big brother meter pings as Leo being silly, stirring shit up for lack of better thing to do, and he doesn’t linger on it past that initial knee-jerk impression. 

They’re working with a group of mutants out of Hell’s Kitchen, mutants who are walking the line between vigilantism and outright crime. They’re rough around the edges, but good-natured for the most part. The turtles kept bumping into that other group as they crisscrossed around the city until finally their leader, Old Hob, said, “Why don’t we just get on the same program instead of stepping on each other’s heels?” and a tentative partnership was formed. 

It’s been a week since then, and in that time Raph and his brothers have been firmly adopted by the grown-up mutants, who ask pointed questions about what time they went to bed the night before and whether or not they had a decent breakfast and how their online classes are going. 

“This must be what having overbearing aunties is like,” Donnie said to April on the phone none-too-quietly, and Sally, feline mutant and aforementioned overbearing auntie, knocked her knuckles on his battleshell reprovingly. But that about summed it up. 

There was one spanner in the works, and that was Liam.  

——

“Anyone else getting bad vibes from that guy by the way?” Leo says one day. 

There’s something performative about it, his usual pomp and charisma with a plastic edge. Mikey tilts his head like a service dog who just caught the scent of a potential medical emergency. Donnie looks up from his phone, eyes keen the way they only are when he and his twin are about to communicate with the telepathy they’ll deny they have.

But Raph is having a bad pain day, and his well of patience for shenanigans is much shallower than it normally is. 

“Leon, don’t start,” he says, rubbing the slider’s head playfully to take any sting out of the dismissal. “If I have to put up with any middle child nonsense today I’m gonna scream.”

There’s a beat, his second-youngest brother visibly hesitating on a mental fork in the road. He’s gotten so good about being forthcoming but his first impulse is still to play along, deny, conceal-don’t-feel. He still has this idea in his head of what a good leader is supposed to be, and he’s still willing to whittle parts of himself away that don’t fit that mold. 

To his credit, Leo tries again. “I don’t like him,” he says with less certainty. 

“You don’t have to be best friends with the guy,” Raph replies. There’s enough warning in his tone that Leo knows to drop it. “Just get along until we go home.”

He works his shoulder, trying to do something about the solid ache it’s become, and Leo’s eyes drop to the mass of scarring there and then flit away. He starts to outline the route their patrol is going to take, reaching into his belt bag for the jar of Tiger Balm he’s taken to carrying with him and handing it over to Raph as he talks. 

Raph smiles, the warmth in his chest ballooning up to swallow the impending impatience and annoyance brought out by pain. That warmth stays with him through their whole run, even as Donnie video-calls April and deadpans “POV you’re tailing some guy who didn’t get the memo that armed robbery is cringe as hell,” even as Mikey goes out of his way to jump and tumble off a fire escape in time to give Mondo a high-five as he skates by in the opposite direction, even as Leo progressively gets quieter the closer they get to their two AM check-in at the Mutanimals’ railyard base.

Looking back, Raph can count all the red flags he missed and hates himself a little more for each one. Leo sometimes causes problems for fun, and he likes to see what trouble he can get away with or get himself out of, and he is a downright menace to society when he’s bored—but he’s good. He’s sweet, and charming, and wants to help. He wouldn’t have raised an issue with the other group of mutants, potentially cutting ties with useful allies, unless he had a decent reason to. 

And that reason, Raph discovers that night—after information has been exchanged and all that's left is to hang out at the base watching TV and playing table tennis until Splinter inevitably texts to remind his sons of their curfew—is Liam. 

He doubles back into the meeting room where he left his phone and sees the goose mutant has put himself between Leo and the only exit, head lowered on a serpentine neck, beak open to show a flash of sharp teeth in a display that Raph’s animal hindbrain reads clearly as threat. 

His grip on the doorframe causes it to crack. 

“Leo,” he says in a voice he doesn’t recognize. 

His little brother’s head jerks up, half-hopeful, half-disbelieving. Later, Raph will hate himself for putting even a sliver of doubt in Leo’s mind, for unknowingly invalidating his feelings. Leo should never be surprised that his big brother showed up for him. He should never have been left to fend for himself in a situation that made him uncomfortable, especially after he found the courage to be upfront about it. 

“C’mere,” Raph says, lifting an arm—a little turtle’s cue to tuck themselves safely against Raph’s side. 

Whatever his expression is doing, it’s caused dead silence to blanket the room like a foot of packed snow. Liam looks markedly unhappy to see Raphael standing there, but Leo runs to meet him. 

A strategist, a faceman, a leader, and barely seventeen years old. 

“We were just talking,” Liam says with a lightness that rings as false. 

“Next time I find out you and my brother were just talking, I’ll wring your skinny neck,” Raph replies, matching his tone. Liam may be twice Raph’s age, but he’s half Raph’s size, and Raph has gone head-to-head with the Krang general and the Shredder and walked it off each time. Raph is fully prepared, in this moment, to murder this fucking goose. 

Leo taps on Raph’s carapace, just as one of his violent inner voices is lifting its head in the back of his brain and considering making an appearance. On Leo’s end, a warning that someone else is coming from down the hall. On Raph’s end, a reminder that his first priority is the one he’s holding. 

He turns, keeping Leo beside him, in time to see Hob appear around the corner. The cat mutant stops dead in his tracks, slitted eyes moving from Raph, down to Leo, to the doorway beside them, and back again.  

“Problem?”

“We’re going home,” Raph says, a rumble in his voice he wouldn’t know how to temper even if he wanted to. “And we’re not coming back. Don’t call us unless someone’s dying or there’s another alien invasion.”

“Knock on wood,” Leo mumbles near-silently. 

Old Hob doesn’t answer right away. It’s impossible to tell what the older mutant is thinking on a good day, outwardly recalcitrant and unfriendly, even though he has never snapped at Mikey’s cheerful rambling or Leo’s wheedling attempts to goad him into yet another chess match or even Donnie’s accidental ninpo-related shortage of every appliance in the Mutanimals’ kitchen. He and Sally and Ray and Herman all go out of their way to make their base comfortable and accessible to the turtles and Mondo and Pete, like it really matters to them that the younger mutants have a safe place tucked away that they can fall back on. 

And Raph had appreciated that, up until now. Up until they proved it wasn’t safe, actually. Up until he’d seen a grown man leering meanly at his baby brother, just because he thought he could keep getting away with it.

When Hob does speak, all he says is, “Get home safe, boys.”

Raph shoulders around him, and collects Donnie and Mikey from the main room immediately. Mikey says, “Woah, are you guys okay?” and Donnie shoots a poisonous look behind them, like if he glares hard enough he can see back in time to what happened to put those expressions on Leo and Raph’s faces. 

“We’re peachy, Miguelito,” Leo says, disquietingly convincing. “Just had a difference of opinion with our hosts is all.” 

“Stay out of Hell’s Kitchen from now on until I say so,” Raph adds sternly. 

Raph tells dad about Liam when they get home, because there is no universe where that doesn’t happen, and Leo immediately gets hauled into Splinter’s room for what sounds like a very serious conversation. Raph, Donnie and Mikey cluster shamelessly outside the door to eavesdrop, and some frightened thing in Raph’s heart lets out the breath it’s been holding when Leo says, “Nothing happened, papa, I promise. He was just weird.”

“Let him be weird to my Baby Blue one more time and I will show him exactly why your father was the undisputed Battle Nexus champion,” Splinter says. He cups Leo’s face and rubs his thumb over a striped cheek, as if he’d like to keep his son right there where no one had the capacity to hurt him. “Thank you for telling us. I’m so proud of you. I will actually kill him if he looks at you again.”

Leonardo smiles brightly, daddy’s boy of the family and glutton for attention that he is, those leftover dregs of anxiety in his eyes finally melting away. 

“I think we should let dad kill him,” Donnie announces, eyes icy, tone flat. 

“Nah,” Mikey says, disingenuously cheerful. “Next time we run into Liam I’m setting him the fuck on fire!” 

“Language,” Raph scolds by rote, but his heart isn’t in it. 

He can’t get that scene he walked in on back at the railyard out of his head. He can’t help thinking what if something worse had happened because I didn’t listen? 

It feels like there’s a ghost in his chest, rattling his heart. He’s haunted by the what if. 

——

After dinner, Leo looks at Raph meaningfully and points at the infirmary. Doctor Leo’s orders supersede all others, 100% of the time, so Raphael sighs and surrenders his controller to Mikey’s grabby hands without bothering to make the token argument. He keeps driving Princess Peach off the track anyway. 

“Have you been stretching?” Leo says, feeling along Raph’s upper arm, where the muscles are visibly knotted. Even his careful touch hurts—that whole side of his body is tender with pain. Raph can’t help but flinch when his shoulder spasms and Leo hisses. “Shit, sorry, I know, I know it hurts. God, Raphie, you gotta say something before it gets this bad. I’m not afraid to bench you, big guy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Raph says, amused by his little brother’s no-nonsense tone, warmed by the care Leo always takes with his family when they’re sitting in his infirmary and putting their hurts in his hands. 

There’s nothing performative about him here. It’s just Leo, stripped of every false layer. 

“Let’s try to massage it out,” Leo says, all his attention bent to the task. “Then we’ll apply heat.” 

Raph hums, watching him work. His arm radiates pain, and he has to grit his teeth as Leo goes to work on the knots and the ache flares close to unbearable and wanes to a dull throb and then flares again. 

“Hey,” Raph says before he can overthink it any more. “What would you have done if I didn’t see you and Liam?”

Leo pauses, but only for a split-second. He’s as good as cornered here, because there’s no way he’ll leave Raph when he’s in pain, and there’s nowhere to hide. Thankfully for Raph’s sanity, he doesn’t try to pretend he doesn’t know what they’re talking about, even if he takes a long moment to finally answer. 

“Would’ve made Angie make me a Portal Promise to never be alone with him,” Leo admits. Flushing slightly, he mumbles, “It’s, uh, a thing we do—we both make portals, you know, so—it just means we have to keep that promise no matter what happens or what rules we have to break, and we won’t get in trouble later as long as we’re honest.” 

Raph’s heart hurts. His little brothers are so sweet, and people exist in the world who would hurt them, and he has no idea how to reconcile that. He hates that both things could be true at the same time. 

“Tello doesn’t need to be encouraged to stay away from people, and I’m pretty sure he can read my mind? But I would’ve told him anyway,” Leo goes on. “I tell him everything. I’d try to word it so he didn’t get angry enough to do something drastic, like, cut the brake lines on Liam’s Toyota Corolla. And I’d have to make it sound like you and I were on the same page, otherwise he’d go to you about it, and you’d—uh, be annoyed that I didn’t drop it, I guess.”

Getting impaled by the Krang hurt less than this, Raph thinks. He feels sick. 

“Leo—”

“I know,” Leo says quickly, a little too loud. “I know that I don’t always take stuff seriously. It’s not your fault for thinking—you know. You didn’t do anything wrong, Raphie. I just gotta grow up.”

This kid, who—like the rest of them—has already matured well past his age, well before he should have had to. Who’s terrified of letting his family down, who has so much he thinks he needs to live up to. Any perceived failure weighs on him like the death penalty, and Raph knows he had a hand in that. 

He needs to listen. Even when he’s aching and short-tempered. Even when Leo is talking around something that scares him. Maybe especially then. 

“Can we make a deal?” Raph says, reaching up to hold Leo’s hands still under one of his own. Leo is staring hard at Raph’s plastron and doesn’t seem willing to lift his eyes for love or money, but he jerks his head in a nod. “Next time I’m not hearing you, and it’s something serious like today was serious, tell me, and I’ll stop.”

Leo’s mouth twists a bit. If it were for anyone else’s sake, he’d get in Raph’s face and make himself heard no problemo, but it’s an entirely different story when it’s his own safety in question. That part of Leo that wants to always rely on his brothers is constantly at war with the part that believes he’s not supposed to need anyone’s help anymore. 

It would be impossible for him to plant himself like a tree and refuse to be budged and demand Raph’s attention if he thought for one second that it would make Raph angry at him. 

“What if we came up with a code word?” Raph offers, squeezing Leo’s hands. “If I’m being a stubborn punk, you can tell me the code word, and I’ll listen, and I won’t get mad. Even if it turns out to be a mistake or a misunderstanding. Okay?”

He finally gets a peek of gold as Leo dares to make eye contact. He looks embarrassed, like they’ve made a huge deal out of this for no good reason, and hiding inside his shell until everyone promises to pretend like nothing happened is looking more tempting by the second. 

But he’s Leo, their fearless leader. He stared down that portal into the prison dimension without flinching. If he can do that, he can do anything. 

“What word?” he finally says. 

“You pick,” Raph tells him. 

A smile creeps onto Leo’s face, picking its way carefully across shaky ground. 

“‘Goose’,” he suggests.

"‘Goose’ it is," Raph replies firmly, committing it to memory.

He lifts his good arm and drags his little brother into a solid hug, ignoring the twinge in his back and side. Leonardo scrambles to return the embrace, shoving his face against Raph’s unscarred shoulder and clinging for all he’s worth. Which is a lot. He’s worth so much. 

Later, when Raph’s got the electric heating pad on his arm and he and Leo are watching TikTok compilations to pass the time, Mikey comes through the infirmary door at top speed, waving his phone above his head like a maniac. 

“Look what Mondo sent me!” he shouts at full volume. “I put it in the group chat!”

The video shared in the Mad Dogz chat shows Liam being kicked out of the railyard, his bags tossed into the road. Sally is going off at him at the top of her lungs, and Hob is standing by with his arms folded like he’s fully ready to let her maul the guy, and the rest of the grown-up mutants are making it pretty clear with their body language that the goose isn’t welcome anymore. 

“Dunno what they saw on the security cam, but they effin’ hated it,” Mondo says in the recording, unbothered by the absolute chaos unfolding in front of him. “Good riddance, Liam sucks. Oh, Mikester, Hob wants to know if you guys’ll be back in the Kitchen for Herman’s D&D oneshot on Saturday so he knows how much food to order. He said you should bring your dad around this time—as if we need another boring old man in the group, ugh. Anyway, let me know and I’ll pass it along, dude!”

A weight Raph hadn’t even realized he was still carrying melts off his shoulders. Leo huffs under his breath, a disbelieving little laugh. 

“Can we go, Raphie?” Mikey asks with wide eyes. “Don worked so hard on all our character sheets. He even 3D-printed custom figurines.”

“My bard is going to carry this team,” Donnie says loudly from the next room, because he’s never met a private conversation he wouldn’t shamelessly listen in on. 

It’s so important to the Mutanimals that their young friends feel safe with them, and here’s proof of that in Mikey’s hands. Raph doesn’t fully understand why they care, but he’s grateful that they do. It didn’t hit him until now how much it hurt to have the railyard taken away—and how relieved he is that they can go back, after all. 

He squeezes the arm he still has around Leo’s shoulders, prompting his brother to look up at him. 

“What do you say, Fearless?” he says warmly. “Your call.”

Raph’s listening this time. 

[paracosm-draw]

omg PLEASE do "a surprise kiss during laughter, when one just can’t help it anymore and finally caves", i need silly fluff in my life

I'm back from my 48h of hell (night shifts at the hospital) and I finally slept enough to be able to answer all the asks !

I've got two asks for this prompt, so here we go nonnies ☀️ It starts with a little bit of angst but don't worry it has a very happy ending 😌 Hope you'll like it 💕

---

The weeks after the death of the Duchess Kryze had been the longest ones Anakin had had to endure in a while. Time seemed to stretch on and on until he was feeling worn out even though he wasn't the one in mourning. In the short time he had met Satine, he had appreciated her for her sense of duty, her wit rivaling Obi-Wan’s and the fact that she wasn’t afraid to take controversial but necessary decisions in order to act for her people instead of getting bogged down in endless, pointless debates. He appreciated her but he didn't know her. Not like Obi-Wan did. 

Anakin knew that he was grieving. In his own way and at his own pace. He wouldn't admit it and he wouldn’t talk about it - not that Anakin knew how to approach the delicate subject - but he was grieving. He was grieving a long-time friend and a confidant in the eyes of the majority of people. For Anakin, he was also grieving a more secret, more intimate thing he kept carefully locked inside of his heart, a thing Anakin could only guess from rare and meager clues, since he didn’t have the key to said heart. 

At first, he had tried to deal with the situation like he had when he had lost his mother. Mourning was an universal experience, after all. People probably grieved all the same, he thought. He remembered how angry he’d been at the time. How it had led to one of the worst decisions of his life. How the anger hadn’t subsided after that, but seeped deeper inside of his bones, left to rot, dormant but never gone. He had thought then, that Obi-Wan might be angry too.

It turned out Obi-Wan wasn't angry. He was sad and nostalgic, which was worse. Worse because Anakin had no clue about how to deal with that, with something other than anger, with something that didn’t push him to action but rather kept him still. He had no idea about what Obi-Wan needed. Was it comfort ? Was it loneliness ? Was it something else ? Someone else ? Someone who knew exactly what words to say, what level of physical touch to use, when to take him out and when to leave him in peace ? Someone who knew how to bring back to life the beloved spark that had quietly died down in Obi-Wan's eyes ?

Someone who was not Anakin. Anakin who didn’t know what to say and how to comfort and when to let go. Anakin who was too much or never enough, and who wanted nothing more than to take his pain away and to make it his own, to curl up around Obi-Wan like a loyal tooka and stay there until his heart unbroke on its own. 

So that's what he decided to do. He stayed there, by his side. Awkwardly, most of the time. Refusing mission after mission to keep an eye on him and inventing excuses after excuses when Obi-Wan asked him about it. He stayed and watched, willing to continue doing so until Obi-Wan got annoyed and sent him off. It hadn’t happened yet so Anakin kept watching. Maybe a little too much- 

“Anakin, be caref-” 

Obi-Wan's exclamation got lost in the impact that rattled through Anakin’s skull as he walked straight into a pole, in the middle of Coruscant’s crowded streets. The shock sent him down on his butt as an acute wave of pain traveled from his forehead to the back of his neck, making his vision blur and his ears ring for a second. 

“Oh dear, are you alright ?!” 

Obi-Wan had crouched next to him, a supporting hand on his shoulder. Anakin blinked and turned his head to him, his forehead pounding unpleasantly.

“Uh…” 

He didn't know what was the most humiliating, to be honest. The fact that he didn’t see that pole because he was - once again - too busy staring at Obi-Wan, the obvious bump slowly starting to grow on his forehead or the fact that Obi-Wan was… laughing ? Or trying not to, at least. But the way his eyes crinkled on the corners and the effort he put on biting his lips betrayed him. Not the reaction Anakin expected. He tilted his head on the side, confused and clearly dumbstruck, and that exact thing was what seemed to be the last straw for Obi-Wan Kenobi, poised and respectable Master Jedi in mourning. 

He burst out laughing. Not the polite and discrete laugh he gave politicians with his hand above his mouth, not the occasional chuckles he graced Anakin when he did or said something funny, but a true, bright laugh that came right from his chest, head thrown back and teeth in display. His whole body shook with the strength of it, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes before spilling along his cheeks, a blush spreading from the tip of his ears to the collar of his tabard. He laughed like he was unable to stop and Anakin stared, bewildered, all pain and humiliation forgotten in favor of absolute awe. 

He didn’t remember when he’d seen Obi-Wan laugh like that for the last time. If  he even had. But from now on it would be his number one priority. Obi-Wan looked… free, like that. Younger, unburdened, happy. Gorgeous. Something violent stirred in Anakin's chest, something he had spent years trying to tame and bury. To forget. Something which now ferociously clawed at the inside of his ribcage to get out, drawn by that laugh that sounded like a miracle.  

"I'm- I'm sorry, A- Anakin. It's just-" Obi-Wan hiccupped, then doubled over with laughter, teeth flashing and tears spilling.

The beast in Anakin's chest roared. He leaned forward, his hands finding the strong lines of Obi-Wan’s shoulders, and stole the marvelous sound directly from his source. He wasn’t thinking, not really, rather acting on instinct. Obi-Wan stopped laughing with a surprised gasp, which was the opposite of what Anakin was trying to achieve, really. He froze but didn’t try to push him away, so Anakin pressed his lips tighter against his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut, heart beating wildly in his chest. 

A lifetime might have passed, or probably just the blink of an eye, when Obi-Wan moved again, a gentle hand cupping Anakin’s jaw. His mouth moved against his own, not to kiss back but to pronounce a little word that meant everything for Anakin when it came from Obi-Wan. His name. Uncertain. Questioning.

“Anakin…” 

The warmth of his breath tingled Anakin’s lips, who opened his mouth to let out his own, short and shaky. Their mouths brushed, soft and parted, and Anakin pushed forward to fit them together again. The fingers on his jaw strengthened, not to stop him but to pull him closer, he realized in wonder when lips pressed back against his own. The hand on his face traveled to the back of his neck, curling around the base of his hair and holding him tight. Anakin sighed softly against the touch, moving his own hand to cup the side of Obi-Wan’s face, fingers grazing against the edge of his beard as their mouths tentatively discovered each other. 

It feels right, was the first thought crossing Anakin’s mind. The way they fitted together, the taste of his own spit on Obi-Wan’s lips, the gentle burn of his mustache against his mouth, the sweet noises they drew from each other. More than that, the way their dormant bond had ignited alive at the faintest brush of their lips, the way their Force signatures had curled up against each other, so tightly entangled they couldn't tell where Anakin’s was starting and where Obi-Wan's was ending. The synchronization of their pulse. The light trembling of their bodies. The fact that they stayed intertwined after breaking the kiss, breathing in each other’s space like it was the only source of oxygen. 

Anakin slipped his fingers behind Obi-Wan’s ears, pressing his forehead against his as his thumb gently caressed his cheekbone. 

“I want to hear you laugh like that again.” He murmured. 

Obi-Wan let out a chopped breath which sounded suspiciously like a disbelieving chuckle. 

“Even at the expense of your pretty head ?” 

“I would gladly hit my head on every pole I see, if it’s what it takes.” Anakin answered fiercely, maybe a little too much, but he was rewarded with a laugh. Another. He preciously bottled it in a corner of his mind.

“Ridiculous boy.” Obi-Wan shook his head fondly and brushed the tip of his fingers around the bump ornating his forehead. “You didn’t have to go to such extremes, you know ? I’d rather you keep that lovely face of yours unharmed.” 

Anakin shrugged, but before he got the chance to think about a clever answer, Obi-Wan leaned in and pressed a kiss on the corner of his mouth, making his mind go blank. Again. 

“We should pay a visit to the Halls of Healing, just to make sure you don't have a concussion.” Obi-Wan decided. 

“Uh- Yeah, sure.” Anakin answered dumbly, feeling strangely dizzy and rather hot all of the sudden. 

“Great.” Obi-Wan grinned. He gently placed another kiss on his temple before grabbing his arm to help him get up. “Let’s go, before you realize.” 

Realize what, Anakin didn’t really know. But he would gladly follow Obi-Wan to the depths of Hell if he kept kissing him like that. 

[redrose10]

I wasn’t sure if you would see my comment or not but 13 and/or 21 with Yoongi please! Nice to see you back. I hope things get going a little smoother in your life 💜

I saw it! I just had like five different ideas for this one (Professor Yoongi, Single Dad Yoongi, Best Friend Yoongi…) and I kept writing and deleting them because I couldn’t decide. Thanks for requesting. I hope you like it!

Idol Yoongi x Female Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, divorce, alcohol, hints of stalking, poor mental health

Word count: 1,840

Prompts—

#13 How can I ever trust you again?

#21 We’re way too drunk for this.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Co-parenting your three year old daughter with your soon to be ex-husband Yoongi was difficult to say the least. He thought that chocolate chip cookies for breakfast were okay while you believed in a well balanced start to the morning. He had a strict minimal screen time policy, but you worked from home and sometimes you had to do what you had to do to keep her occupied even if that meant putting on her favorite movie two times in a single day. He thought it was okay to have bedtime after 9pm while you believed an earlier bedtime was the better option.

The situation was only made worse by the fact that you were still madly in love with Yoongi. Every time you saw him it was incredibly hard to not break down and cry and beg him to wrap his arms around you and hold you and make everything better. But you could never do that no matter how badly you wanted to. You were the one that requested the divorce. He only followed through without a fight. And maybe that is what hurt the most. The two of you just accepted what was broken without putting in any effort to try and fix it.

Yoongi was going to be over any minute to drop off your daughter after her week at his house. You put the finishing touches on your makeup and smoothed out the wrinkles in your new dress. You felt kind of silly getting dressed up like this just to see him for a few minutes, but it gave you some sense of normalcy.

The door bell rang. You hated that he always asked permission before entering now. This used to be his home too, but now he felt like a stranger.

When you opened the door you expected your daughter to come running in excited to play with her toys and sleep in her princess bed, but instead it was just Yoongi. Immediately your mind started going into panic mode worried that something may have happened. What if she was sick? In the hospital? Had an accident? Why didn’t he call you? Where is she?

Yoongi knew you very well and took control of the situation before you could spiral any further.

“She’s with Jimin. I just thought we could have some time alone to talk for a little.”, he said raising up a bottle of your favorite wine. You felt a sense of relief wash over you before you nodded in agreement and welcomed him in. After grabbing two glasses from the kitchen you joined him on the couch.

The conversation started out light with your normal pleasantries like how work was going and how your friends were doing. Then it turned to sadder subjects like the divorce and next steps after that.

The two of you made quick work of the entire bottle of wine and you were definitely feeling it. You could tell Yoongi was too thanks to the redness of his cheeks and the way he slouched back against the couch.

“You look really pretty Y/N.”, he finally said after scooting a little bit closer. His cologne made your stomach turn in a good way. It was smoky with a hint of citrus and a touch of cinnamon. On paper it sounded awful but it always suited Yoongi. Mysterious and dark yet bright and warm.

“Yoongi please…please don’t do this.”, you whispered before backing away to keep your distance afraid that you’d allow yourself to melt into him.

He fell back against the couch with a loud sigh, “What, I can’t compliment you now? We were together for nine years. We have a daughter together. We’ve been to hell and back, but all of a sudden me calling you pretty is where you draw the line?”

You jumped back like his words burned you, “No Yoongi, I drew the line when you cheated on me.”

Yoongi licked his lips as he tried to carefully peace together his next sentence. He didn’t want to say anything out of spite that he didn’t really mean.

The room fell into silence. Tears were already burning your eyes so you tried to get up to escape it, but you were pulled back onto the couch by Yoongi. “Y/N. Please don’t run from me any more. How can I fix this?”, he questioned nearly begged.

“I…I don’t know Yoongi. We’re so broken because of everything that happened. How can I ever trust you again?”, you sniffled.

An envelope had been slipped underneath the front door of your apartment. Inside were photos of your husband and some woman you had never seen before. They were at an interview. Outside his studio. At dinner with him and the rest of the group. There was no note. No explanation. You had the photos laid out on the kitchen table waiting for Yoongi when he got home. He tried to explain. Asked you to listen to him. All he kept saying was that he never cheated. But you were so hurt and distraught that you blocked him out and refused to listen. You packed up your daughter and left. After four days you hadn’t heard from him so you called a divorce lawyer. If he wasn’t going to fight for your marriage then neither would you.

You were brought back to the present when you felt him gently wipe away the tears that were collecting on your cheeks, “Well first you never should’ve stopped trusting me to begin with and you should have believed me when I told you I never cheated on you with her or anyone else for that matter.”

“Then who was she Yoongi? How did she have those photos of you?”, you questioned.

He sighed, “She was just a delusional fan. She’d been following me around for months. Showing up at my studio, photoshoots, interviews. She even tried to follow me home a few times. You were pregnant at the time and I didn’t want to stress you out about it because I knew you would get worried and worked up. I wanted to protect you from that stress. One day she disappeared and I assumed that the police had finally taken care of it liked I’d been asking them to, but I guess she was just laying low or something until she made her move. I don’t know. But I swear I never cheated with her. I would never do that to you. I love you too much Y/N.”

“Okay then why didn’t you tell me all of this before? All you said was you never cheated and left it at that. You never tried to fight for me…for us. So why now?”, you cried feeling a mix of anger and sadness and maybe a little regret too.

Yoongi grabbed your hand squeezing it tightly to bring you back, “I was in a really bad spot at the time. Mentally I wasn’t well and then this whole thing blew up with the photos and you got upset and I felt like it was all my fault for putting you through that. When you said you wanted a divorce I thought that maybe that was the best thing for you. Then you would be free from me. I just wasn’t thinking straight at the time.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

He sighed, “I don’t know. I guess I just couldn’t bring myself to say anything to you. I felt weak. I didn’t want to be a burden to you. I’m supposed to be your strength but I couldn’t even take care of myself at the time. I was embarrassed.”

“How are you doing now?”, you asked squeezing his hand again.

“Better.”, he smiled, “I mean as good as I can be given the situation.”

Finally you turned to look at him fully, “So what do we do from here?”

“I don’t know.”, he shrugged, “Whatever makes you happiest though.”

“Do you think we’re broken beyond repair?”, you asked in a whisper because you were too afraid of the answer.

But Yoongi shook his head, “No I don’t think so. I’m willing to take it slow and see how things work between us. We can fix this though. I believe in us.”

You agreed, “Yeah me too.”

Yoongi looked you up and down. His cheeks were still rosy from the wine, “Would it be moving to fast if I said I really really wanted to kiss you right now?”

You shook your head, “No because I’d really really like that right now too.”

When he leaned in and kissed you it felt like the first kiss all over again. That kiss was the first repair to the cracks of your relationship. You didn’t want it to end and it seemed like neither did he.

He leaned further in pushing you to lay back down onto the couch. His lips moved from yours down to your neck to your chest.

Internally you were struggling with not wanting him to stop after being away from him for so long and also wondering if this was going too fast.

“Yoongi uh…do you think…I mean…We’re way too drunk for this.”, you finally managed to find the words to say, “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just we’re still figuring things out and we need to move slow and we’re both really drunk and I don’t want there to be any regrets about this when we sober up.”

He pulled back and you had to stifle a whine of disappointment because deep you didn’t want it to end.

“Sorry sorry you’re right. I just…I miss you so much Y/N.”, he said.

You agreed with a nod of your head, “I miss you too…So how about calling Jimin and seeing if he will watch her for the night and then maybe…you could…spend…the night here. Then we can talk again in the morning.”

Yoongi smiled, “Yeah sounds good. But uh do you mean talk or TALK again in the morning?”

You let out a laugh, “We can talk again and then we’ll see how things are going between us and then maybe we can TALK if things feel right.”

“I can live with that.”, he said making you giggle as he stumbled to get up and get his phone from the entryway table where he left it.

The future was uncertain and you were scared that there were cracks in your relationship that would never be fully repaired, but for the time being you were both content with trying to fix what you could and moving forward to a brighter happier future together.

[stilljuststardust]

PLEASE YAP ABOUT YOUR DRS I LOVE IT WHEN YOU DO THAT, I LOVE LEARNING NEW THINGS BOUT YOU

I've tried to have DR accounts but speaking into the void makes me feel so weird and it's harder to yap that way.

I'm usually very private about my Drs so I'll share stuff people IRL don't know/can't be traced back to me. I don't know if I've even told my friends about this DR yet.

Anyways. Breaking news ig:

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:

My Shifter DR

Sorry yet again if this is how you find out I don't live inside of a black and white surrealist photograph

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:

This is a 2020 shiftok DR.

Playlist

This is basically my buffer reality. A quiet life where I can take a break from more intense realities while also being able to express myself fully. I hate the separation I feel from non shifters and this reality doesn't have that disconnect.

Its basically a better CR but where shifters can live authentically. A version of the web with shifter centric Google, Pinterest, TikTok, youtube, though obviously they aren't named the same as it's the shifter version of each thing.

The community in that reality has all of the late night sleepover energy of old shiftok with none of the misinformation or desperation. Just a real community coming together and gossiping.

There is a version of the internet only available to reality shifters. A secret society far far away from the prying eyes of anti shifters, where you can post without the worry that if anything too cringe will land you in a middle grade YouTubers shitty think piece. Even if the general public had access they wouldn't care because this reality is built for my inner weird kid.

Cringe culture is dead in this reality. Anyone I tell about shifting will be accepting even if they themselves are not a shifter and I will never again pause awkwardly as I decide if it's lying to say I have a boyfriend if that boyfriend is a fictional character. Basically, people mind their fucking business when it comes to shifters instead of shitting themselves everytime they hear about it.

My favorite thing I scripted is being able to download and upload media from your DRs and post it instead of trying to cobble together recreations. There is an application called scriptr that's basically the Holy Grail. Its a mash up of Notion, Pinterest, and the Sims. You can design your bedroom and a real photo of it will pop into existence, create an avatar of your desired self, search for a specific reality or time period and find exclusively accurate results, prompts, etc.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:

My life there

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:

I did script myself younger, but not to the age I was in 2020. Before a bunch of people get mad at me, the age change is incredibly small. I'm only aging back one year, because 18 was traumatic and I didn't get to experience it at all. I think you'll live if I'm the age I was six months ago guys.

It's not an exciting reality and it's not supposed to be, it's a quiet life where I can escape from my twelve other less quiet lives. Yes I also have a waiting room for that but that reality isn't a home, my WR is a silly little place where I watch edits of myself.

I've scripted the reality as this really healing place for me. That feeling you had picking flowers on the side of the field instead of participating with everyone else, how holidays felt when you still believed in magic, how you were before they banned fun and whimsy.

I grew up feeling like there was something wrong with me and all I ever really wanted was to feel like I wasn't weird, so this reality says fuck that shit I'm just gonna be weird.

I've mentioned before that I put subliminals on a playlist as a shortcut for scripting so take a look at the ones I saved for DRs energy: here

This reality is all sitting in silk robes as I live stream with my friends talking about our DRs, long walks in the meadow by my house, buying luxury perfumes, and cooking with my mom. Its all the whimsy and nostalgia and the weird kid tendencies this reality tends to discourage after a certain age. My life there is Wattpad, silly edits, and storytimes.

I spend hours lounging on my canopy bed as I script diabolical shit, and then when I finally go outside and touch grass I lose myself in the wonderful woods behind my house.

If you are reading this I really suggest you have a reality where you can be yourself. Be whatever weird annoying person you've tried to get rid of, because you were only doing what made you happy.

It's just me, my cat, and my 16 hour screentime against the world.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:

[leehama]

Hi, I love reading And Another Lovely Day a lot and loved seeing the behind the scenes and extras in the recent update! I wanted to ask what inspired you to write it? There’s not a lot of stories with a-spec characters as leads so I was wondering what prompted you to write a story like this.

Hi there! tbh, I've avoided answering this question because AALD was one of those stories that changed so much from its initial idea and has roots in multiple other stories of mine so it's hard to explain/trace! This is going to be long, but I think it went something like:

I was considering making the main character of another story of mine aroace, but even though it made her more interesting, suddenly removing the romance plotline threw off the the motivations/characterizations/storylines of other characters, so I decided against it--but now I had this aspec character concept floating around in the back of my mind

For another story of mine I wanted to make the MCs editors at a romance comic publisher, but it was getting to be a little too much about them being editors/working on comics than their romance/silly hijinks, so I paused developing it--but now I liked that setting

And eventually the two concepts converged: I liked the juxtaposition of aspec leads who had jobs producing love stories because it felt very romcom (there are lots of romcoms about romance writers whose own love lives are lacking, right?). And when the term "non rom-com" popped into my head, I latched onto it!

Initially, Nora and Elliot were romance comic publisher employees who bonded over a common interest in food--but it felt like it overlapped a bit too much with Gourmet Hound (and in terms of exploring sexuality and food, series like She Loves to Cook, And She Loves to Eat and What Did You Eat Yesterday? do it better than I ever could)

(Nora was the editor for Grier's comic series, while Elliot was in the advertising department alongside Isaac--they'd be forced to work together when Elliot was assigned to an ad campaign for Grier's comic) (Their meet-cute was the two of them agreeing to share a Valentine's couple's special at a cafe across the street from their office)

So instead of comic publisher employees who connect over their love of food, they became teachers who connect over their love of comics! I went through a lot of iterations of possible jobs and interests, but this combination felt the most approachable to me (also I had a ton of school-related assets laying around from the magical-girl-becomes-high-school-teacher project that never came to be lol)

So I didn't really set off to write a story about aromanticism or asexuality, nor to write a story with aspec leads. But also, in general, I can't really write from a place of "I want to provide xyz representation" or "I want to make this story relatable for xyz type of person"--because I'm not a skilled enough writer to do that without readers being able to immediately pick up on it lmao (and I feel like a lot of readers balk against stories that are too transparently or clumsily attempting to teach them lessons/model good behavior/be relatable!)

[jjwolves]

Hey!!!

Just wanted to request something and say that I really like your writing and your sona! Really silly

Anyway, if you can, may I have some general ‘x reader’ headcanons for Bellham/Suspicious Man from DBBQ?? I don’t see a lot of content of him on tumblr or anything else, and its a shame, I REALLY LIKE HIM!!!!

Thanks you!!!

SAMADHI ︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

What: 5 Headcanons for Suspicious Man X Reader

Who: Suspicious Man from ENA Dream BBQ (By Joel G)

How Much: ~900 Words, ~4 mins

Warnings: Stalking (?)

Suspicious Man is confusing, and it’s not remedied by the fact that he rarely elaborates on anything he says unless prompted, and even then, you need to ask the right questions. It follows, then, that you hadn’t even realized that you two were dating until you were halfway through an admittedly romantic glowing bonsai tree-lit dinner and he said, “I’ve been waiting. To find someone like you. For. A while.” Taking a break from eating a gourmet Medicine Branch, you asked what he meant. “Well. I am glad. That our paths. Crossed. Crossed? Intertwined.” Deciding to get bold, you elected to ask if he loved you, because you were pretty sure you loved him. He was such a unique guy; you doubt he’d make fun of you or be rude about it. His ominous smile grew a little wider, two sets of hands interlocking conspiratorially. Was he feeling amused or bashful? Hard to say. “Yes! I thought that I. Was being obvious.” He was not.

Suspicious Man is a creature of hedonism and scholarship. When he’s not experiencing the highest cosmic highs of senses, he’s busying himself with extensive study of anything he feels would be worth learning. He’s extremely knowledgeable, and as such, he seems to know a lot of things about you that you don’t recall ever telling him. “It is habit. For us. To go. Where I want to go. So. We must go. Where you. Want to go. Which is presumably. Presumably? The Blooming Heaven Well.” Well, you did want to go there—it’d been one of your favorite places in all of your travels. But how did he know that? “I study. Things that. I like. That fascinate me. Hehehe!” You should recoil, but you like him too much, so you squeeze one of his hands instead. It’s only for a moment, but his mouth drops the shady smile and adopts a surprised ‘o’. “You know. Feeling this is. Different. Than reading about it.”

It’s not long before he introduces you to his favorite place, a dark winding place of bookshelves and pipes and dust which floats off of the floor and forms little shapes for you. And deep, ominous bells playing far away, yet echoing all around you. It’s creepy and macabre, but knowing Suspicious Man gives you the sense that he’s showing you something personal and close to his heart, so it takes on a warm, intimate atmosphere. One of his favorite things to do here is feast on strange but delicious food with you. Flesh branches dipped in candle sauce. A cornucopia of colored triangles. Gray biscuits with ghostly faces on them lathered in some sort of psychedelic glaze. It is completely epicurean. It’s absolutely an endless chasing of the senses. But being together for a meal gives it a sense of wholeness, like there’s meat beneath the spice that is pleasure. Like there’s substance to this time spent. Suspicious Man thinks that he might have found a new favorite activity. “I think. We’ve found our own. Form of. Enlightenment?”

It might not come as much of a surprise to anybody, but Suspicious Man might be a little… evil. He enjoys putting hexes on entities who annoy him. He likes vexing and mocking his bell servants. At the very least, his evil tendencies are directional—he’d never do anything to hurt you or even inconvenience you. He does like to test you, though—see if you’d like to have a taste of the dark side. Not necessarily because he dislikes your goodness. In fact, he enjoys it. He simply likes to offer you the experience, like offering someone a glass of wine after you’ve already poured yourself some. Once, after you had been rudely denied passage by a doorkeeper entity, you found them tied up and squirming around in red string, suspended above the ground of Suspicious Man’s realm. Suspicious Man handed you a cursed talisman and playfully wiggled your arms around. “What. Ever. Will you do?” You were pissed at the entity, sure, but it wasn’t worth cursing them and turning them into a mango or whatever this talisman did. You elected to set the doorkeeper free. “Sad choice! But fair choice. Either way. I like your choices.” Sometimes his minions seem a bit relieved when you're around; it's like he kicks them around a little less whenever you're watching. Whether he's doing this to see if you'll say something or because he cares what you think, you'll never know.

Your incredibly sinister boyfriend has a funny habit of tying the red strings on his fingers into different shapes when he’s talking. You want to see the limits of his special ability. He gives an amused sigh. “Okay then. Let us. See.” You want him to do… a bunny! He fiddles around for a few moments before forming a rabbit’s face. “What an. Interesting creature. You’ve chosen.” OK, now do a spider. The result is a bit wonky but it definitely looks the part. “I am. Quite fond. Of this one.” Hmm… Now he should do an ENA. He creates a very simple outline of an ENA’s face. “I have. Studied them. Them? Extensively. A face is. Easy. Easy? Enough.” OK. You tell him that, since he’s done so well with the other ones, he should come up with one that he wants to do, and you’ll guess what it is. He takes a few moments to pull the strings in different directions, thoughtful. When he’s done, it’s a cartoony rendition of your face. His other hands pull the strings into hearts. You blush. “I think. This one is quite. Enchanting. If I do say so, myself.”

A/N: I kind of headcanon him as someone who is, like, the opposite of a Buddhist. Like he understands the entrapments of the physical world and of desire but willingly flies headfirst into it because that is how he chooses to exist. A very intentional self-destruction (or perverse kind of self-fulfillment).