#I miss him 😭😭😭I kiss him 😭😭😭😭

[spatialwave]

➸ ask: "Haii! I love your writing, could I request JayvikxReader please? Maybe something fluffy, like a cozy winter morning with them? Or something smutty, like Reader and Jayce making Viktor feel good? Maybe add some angst, he feels like he is not as attractive or is a third wheel so you two make sure he knows you both love him? 🙈 Thank you!"

– ➸ pairing: jayvik x fem!reader ➸ word count: 2.1k ➸ tags: mdni! mild-nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, polyamory, canon-divergent a.k.a. nothing bad ever happens lol. ➸ notes: i tried to combine all the ideas together! not as smutty because i really got invested in the angst… i’m sorry 😭 tysm for sending an ask! <3

The smell of freshly brewed black tea, the scent strong enough to flutter your eyes open as your body stretched across the bed. A mess of blankets, one body beside you, and the winter sun filtering through the half-shut curtains. The daylight on your skin warmed your body, a feeling that you had missed during the past few weeks of dreary weather that left most Piltover citizens huddled away indoors.

“Good morning,” a tired voice rumbled next to you, muscled arms wrapping around your body and tugging you close. You were nestled into Jayce’s chest, face pressed against his skin, and wanting nothing more than to fall right back into sleep and forget about the day and any responsibilities you may have.

“Mmh,” you grunted in response, inhaling a deep breath as you peered up through sleep-riddled eyes. Your eyes locked with Jayce’s, a beautiful colour mixed of golden hues that put the evening sun to shame, “I like this new look,” you hummed quietly, fingers tracing along the edge of the beard he had yet to shave. Even his hair had begun to curl over his ears.

“Yeah?” He grinned, revealing that stupid tooth gap between his two front teeth you loved so much, “I don’t know. I’m starting to feel a bit shaggy.”

The blanket slipped from your body as you sat up in the bed next to him, yawning as your arms outstretched above you and a familiar hand smoothed over your hip, “it looks good, Jayce,” you said through a soft smile, “it’s not like you have anyone to impress these days.”

“Ouch,” he smirked, shifting to sit up against the pillows, hand moving over your thigh as you sat next to him, “suppose you’re right.”

Life had been quiet since Jayce stepped down from the council, focusing full-time on hextech with Viktor, exploring the possibilities and understanding the hexcore. It was meticulous work, but it was work that needed to be done. They both vowed their lives to it.

“Where’s Viktor?” You looked toward the open bedroom door, the smell of tea still wafting through the air. He couldn’t have been gone from bed for too long, likely set up somewhere with scatterings of research papers. Or a good book if he was taking a break.

Jayce sat forward, removing his hand from you so he could push the blankets off and swing his legs off of the bed. His movements slow as his body slowly woke up, “Is it just me, or has he been distant lately?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, shuffling off of the bed and sliding into your slippers, the floorboards cool from the deep drops in temperature outside, “I tried asking him about it yesterday, and he brushed me off.”

“Mhm,” Jayce mumbled passively, stepping beside you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders to tug you against his chest, rousing a giggle from you. 

“Stop,” you laughed loudly as he kissed at your neck and ear, the thick hair on his face tickling you.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled lowly into your ear, you could feel his smile on your skin, “we better go say good morning.”

“Already ahead of you,” you rolled your eyes, peeling away from his arms and stepping out into the hallway that lead you right to him. There he sat in the office they’d set up for home, hunched over the desk with a cup of steaming tea and eyes glued to one of the hundreds of research notebooks they’d collected.

“Good morning, love,” you hummed, stepping into the mess of a room and smiling brightly as Viktor glanced over his shoulder at you. His eyes were tired, cheeks rather sunken in – ill. Over the course of the past few months he’d been struggling more, but stubborn when you and Jayce offered help.

“Morning,” he murmured, running a hand over his tired eyes, “thought you weren’t going to wake up.”

“I bet you would’ve really liked that, wouldn’t you?” You asked, shaking your head as you stepped toward him and against the back of his chair, eyes scouring over the pages, “Getting work done?” Your hand absently rested on his shoulder, the other brushing through his hair that flipped out at the ends.

Viktor’s body relaxed in your hands, eyes closing, “Not really,” he sighed, and you could feel the defeat that had sunken in him. 

You only then had realized Jayce didn’t follow you in, the distant sound of the shower starting.

“Hey,” you murmured, inhaling a deep breath as you moved to sit up on the desk, your line of sight above Viktor as you looked down at him, “what’s wrong?”

His eyebrows furrowed together, a quick shake of his head following as he adjusted himself on his seat, “Nothing. Why do you ask?”

“Viktor,” you tilted your head, hand stealing the book away from his hands. His eyes snapped open immediately, trying to reach for the notes, but you pulled it away and set it on the other side of yourself, “I’m not leaving you alone unless you talk with me. Properly this time.”

A heavy sigh came from his lips, looking up at you with the faintest of pouts on his lips, “are you going to ask me why I’ve been distant again? Or is it something else to bother me about this time?”

The words were sharp, but they hadn’t stung. You didn’t take it personally.

“You’re smart enough to know,” you frowned, clenching your jaw, “it’s not fair to Jayce and me.”

“What isn’t fair? That I’m feeling unwell?” Viktor has been angrier than you realized, but you didn’t flinch at his outburst. He grabbed his crutch, using it to pull himself out of his chair as the metal of his leg brace creaked, and you tried to help, but he swatted your hand away, “That I have to stay home everyday working on hextech, while Jayce gets to go to the lab? While you two get to spend all your time together while I stay here?”

“Oh,” your eyes widened, pulling your hands back and staring at him. You didn’t know what to say, and you noticed the embarrassed look in his eyes – shame.

“That’s not what I meant,” he muttered.

“Viktor, is that what this is about?” Your heart ached as you slid off of the desk, stepping up to him and resting your hands along the sharp lines of his jaw.

He tried turning his head away, but you had the advantage now and kept him still, looking up at him with those big doe-eyes that worked too well on him and made his stomach twist in the best way possible. He did his best to avoid your gaze, feeling nothing short of pathetic.

“Can we leave it be?” He eventually croaked, “pretend I didn’t say anything, please?”

“I ran a shower for you, Viktor,” Jayce stepped into the room, towel in his hand as he looked between you two. There was a tension in the room that he couldn’t quite put his finger on, “uh, bad time?”

“Thanks,” Viktor mumbled, pulling away from you and limping against his crutch as he took the towel and marched his way out of the office, slowly.

“Do you need a han–”

“No.”

Silence filled the office as Viktor left, leaving the two of you stunned in silence. Jayce turned toward you, a puzzled expression on his face as he tried to put the pieces together.

“We haven’t been good partners,” you groaned, turning to press your face against him, mind reeling for ways to remedy Viktor’s heartache. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he felt, having far too much privilege in this situation.

“Is he mad I’ve been spending too much time away?” He asked, ripping you from your thoughts, “I could bring some of the lab stuff home, or… or I could take some time off! Right?”

“No,” you let out a breathy laugh at his eagerness, one of the many traits of Jayce Talis that made you fall so madly in love with him, “well, maybe.”

“I can go right now,” he moved to turn.

“Jayce,” you laughed, holding him back from turning your home into the newest hextech laboratory and spending countless hours trudging through the snow with heavy equipment, “Baby steps. He’s been quite tired, lately. Maybe we should get him to bed and see if we can help him someway,” you wore a sly smile on your lips, attempting to push Jayce’s thoughts in the same direction as yours. 

He huffed out a laugh, “Sounds like you’re the worked up one trying to get what you want.”

You playfully hit his arm, “Oh, shut up. Like you aren’t, it’s been weeks. If we’re feeling it, then he is too,” you put your hands on his back, pushing him toward the door, “let me take care of it.”

You found yourself in the bathroom with Viktor, him sitting on a chair you’d slid in so you could help him. Help that he was appreciative of after taking time to de-stress.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, eyes closed as you ran the towel through his hair, “I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.”

Anger wasn’t a feeling that Viktor was so familiar with, it often fleeted right by him. He had always been so ambitious, ready to take on the world with a cup half-full mentality. These past few years had taken its toll on him, leaving him uncertain. 

Worried. 

“It’s okay, love,” you cooed, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead as he tilted his head back on the chair, looking up at you, “you should come rest with us. It’s cold out, we deserve a day in bed.”

You could see a spark flicker in his eyes, the first in days. That’s all you wanted, was to see that spark more often, to show Viktor that he wasn’t being left behind – that you and Jayce couldn’t even imagine a life without loving him like you do. That, itself, would be an injustice.

Once refreshed, you helped him to the bedroom with nothing more than a gentle hand on his back. Mindful about your actions, knowing now that as much as he hid it well, he had pride. A need to just feel normal, once in a while. Like he wasn’t just the sick man people saw him as – the sick man he knew he was.

Jayce was sitting up in bed, legs sprawled over the mess of blankets and a book in his hand. Eyes flickered up from the bed, a small smile on his lips as he sat up.

“There he is. The love of my life,” he beamed, snapping the book shut.

“Eh, that’s too much, Jayce,” Viktor sighed, cringing at the display of affection, and you snorted out a laugh.

“Oh, come on,” he grinned, sitting up as he watched Viktor move into the bed and lay against the pillows, admiring him, “I can’t appreciate you?”

“You heard him, it’s too much,” you teased, closing the blinds so you could all hide away from the snowy surroundings. Take the time to focus on only each other.

Viktor looked up at Jayce, long lashes fluttering as a pink shade tinted his cheeks. One of his calloused hands gently rubbed along his slender waist where his ribs were visible, tilting down and wasting no time in closing the distance between their lips.

You crawled onto the other side of the bed, sliding against Viktor with ease, lips on his shoulders and hands exploring his body. You hoped you hadn’t been too eager.

“You don’t have to do this,” Viktor’s voice muffled against Jayce’s lips, frail hands pressing to his hardened chest, “I get it.”

“I want to,” Jayce answered earnestly, pulling back from their kiss, “I love you. You know that, right?”

“... I do.”

There was nothing else in the world that you and Jayce wanted more than to make sure that Viktor was loved and cared for, that his heart could be full when his mind and body felt weak. To know that you both unequivocally and unconditionally loved him, more than one should bear.

Viktor’s body was sensitive as you and Jayce ravaged him – tired and weak, but craving everything you two offered him. Eating up the desire like a starved man.

You straddled his hips, rocking atop of him lazily while Jayce pressed heady kisses along his neck, licking at the marks he left behind. Everyone was tired, paces slowing down and bodies spent, but you didn’t have the need to stop. You all made up for lost time, and you and Jayce showed Viktor just how much love you had for him.

“Thank you,” Viktor whimpered.

[livelaughloveluffy]

idk but I just feel like luffy, ace, sanji (obviously lol) zoro, and law would have a thing for plus size reader, who is sweet and naturally gets along with almost everyone but can also be a bit naive

plus size reader - monster trio, ace, law, and eustass

a/n: thank you so much for the request!!! it's definitely something that has fallen in my inbox before and i would love to write about it because i totally agree that these men would loveeeee plus size women 😌 (i'm 100% biased but shhhhhh lets not talk about that) i definitely took some creative liberty while writing this so i hopefully you enjoy!!

a/n: in typical fanfic writer fashion, i'm like actually so miserably sick right now, i have a really bad cough, my head hurts so bad, i feel super hot, and i can't even take cold medicine because of my antidepressants 😭😭😭 so if i start to not make sense, thats why 😭😭

nothing but fluff here 💗

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monkey d. luffy

-he's such a cuddly baby. luffy will 100% wrap his arms and legs around you, like a little koala, burying his face in the crook of your neck. he just wants all of you, all the time.

-the captain of the straw hats never ceases to amaze you with his strength as he often picks you up with such ease to either hold you close to him, with your legs wrapped around his waist, or to throw you over his shoulder, carrying you around the thousand sunny without a care in the world. luffy typically picks you up when he's extra excited to see you, needing to have you as close as possible. his grip on your body is always so tight, over his dead body would he ever let you fall.

-luffy refuses to believe that you don't see the beauty in yourself. his eyes widen in pure shock when he overhears you talking about your insecurities with nami. since that day, whenever you hear the captain talk about you, it's always with the phrase "the prettiest girl alive", with the widest smile on his face.

-he just can't help but constantly cover you with kisses. luffy is so proud to be able to have you, and he will happily shout from rooftops about his love for you, so shame about pda is absolutely nonexistent. it's a frequent occurrence for the captain to run up to you, smother you in kisses, and then run off to his other shenanigans.

roronoa zoro

_he's so proud to have you. when the two of you are together, he shows you off as if you're the shiniest trophy. his arm tightly intertwined with yours as the two of you hold hands walking the town of a new island. the green-haired boy always wants you as close to him as humanly possible, your bodies are always pressed next to each other, as if you were glued together, when side by side.

-zoro, who can pick you up with ease. when you are hugging him, he'll lift your feet off the ground, arms tight around your waist and spin you, only to then throw you over his shoulder like its nothing, taking you back to his bed. in a similar vein, he also often asks you to help him train, practically begging you to sit or lay on his back as he does hundreds of push-ups with ease. even if you try to protest and say you're too heavy, he'll scoff and pull you in for a tight hug. then picks you up and puts you on his back, making you cross your legs around his waist, and begin his training anyways.

-he's extra protective with you. especially when you two are exploring a new island, his hand is tightly gripping your waist as you walk side by side, and if you ever ask him why he'll turn to you and reply "just need to let everyone know you're mine." with the faintest hint of a growl in his voice. glares at anyone who dares to look your way for too long.

-the swordsman who is infatuated with your love handles. whenever you are just standing somewhere on the sunny, he'll come up behind you and grab your hips, pulling your body back into him. he'll rest his chin on your shoulder and when you ask him what he's doing he'll just reply with a simple "mmm, just missed you." drinking in the closeness of your presence.

black leg sanji

-the way this man is absolutely obsessed with curvier women. sanji constantly tells you how much of a goddess you are "mon amour, you're even more beautiful than aphrodite herself."

-the curly-browed blonde worships you and your body. when you are in only a bra and underwear in front of him, he takes his time to admire the absolute work of art you are. getting on his knees to stare up at you, placing his hands one on each of your thighs, working his way up to your stomach and hips, kissing along where his hands had just been. this becomes a ritual for him. he absolutely refuses to do anything more serious before getting to take his time adoring and worshipping you.

-sanji is constantly reminding you of how beautiful you are. he's saying it loudly, whispering it in your ear, and everything in between. you hear compliments from him a minimum of 100 times a day, and with the way his eyes widen and sparkle, you can tell how much he truly means it.

-he's genuinely heartbroken if he every found out that you didn't like your body or if you feel a bit insecure. sanji's eyes suddenly well up with tears as he explains that it hurts him to the core that you would see yourself so completely opposite to the way he sees you, "you're utterly ethereal, mon cheri. a work of art too perfect for this world." and he'll do anything to prove how much he means it. he'll leave gentle and delicate kisses all over your body and skin for hours, murmuring praises under his breath the entire time.

portgas d. ace

-ace was absolutely loud and proud about how attractive he found you from the very first time he laid his eyes on you. his gravely voice could be heard shouting across the moby dick "lookin' good, gorgeous." with the widest smile.

-the freckled boy will slide his hands up under your shirt, gently moving them up and down your hips and torso. ace has a carnal need to feel your skin, and there's nothing he loves more than getting to rest his hands on your stomach, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and leaving kisses down your neck as he does so.

-he loves to grab your ass. at first, ace tried to be subtle about it, starting by resting his hand on the smalls of your back, and slowly letting it fall lower until he reached your ass, and waiting a little bit before giving it a gentle squeeze. but as time progressed, he got more bold and unabashed about this form of pda, he's totally unbothered by the stares of the other crewmembers of the whitebeard pirates, returning their looks with the smuggest smile you've ever seen.

-ace will never let you forget how stunning you are. whenever he gets the chance, he'll be whispering in your ear about how gorgeous you are, how he's never seen anyone as beautiful as you, how he's so lucky to have you, and many other similar sentiments.

trafalgar water d. law

-like luffy, law is a lot more cuddly with you. often teleporting to stand right behind you, wrapping his arms around the center of your torso, pulling you close into him, his voice whispering in your ear "hi, beautiful." he always has a hand on you, whether it's on your thigh, your back, intertwined with your own hand, he simply can't resist you. the cruelest form of torture to the captain is not being able to touch you.

-praise galore. the captain is always finding subtle ways to praise you, trying to casually slip his compliments in during conversations. law often address you as "beautiful" or "my pretty girl", making it rare to hear your name slip from the law's lips.

-law is also extremely protective over you. his sharp eyes and stinging glare shoots at anyone who looks at you in a way he doesn't agree with. his hand holding onto your waist, pulling you close into him, with your head resting against his shoulder is law's ideal way to walk side by side with you.

eustass captain kid

-he's soooo loud about how attractive he finds you. it's an every day occurrence for you to hear the red-haired captain shout "oi, hot stuff, come bring your fine ass over here!" across the deck of the victoria punk. it's more common for kid to call you "hot stuff" or "doll" than it is for him to use your actual name, to the point that when you hear the captain using your name rather than a pet name, you genuinely think you're in trouble.

-eustass is so touchy. he literally cannot get enough of you, his large metal hand is always grabbing your ass or your hip, with his other hand running all over the side of your body. he's also not above leaving red lipstick stains all over your neck (and chest if you're wearing a top with a lower neckline). he leaves zero room for anyone to question who you're with.

-kid is obsessed with throwing you around, he's constantly picking you up and carrying you around the victoria punk. he'll put you up on his shoulders, loving the way your thighs squeeze around his head. throwing you over his shoulder, metal hand on your ass to make sure you don't slip. holding you by your waist with your legs wrapped around his. it's rare for you to be with eustass and for him to not be carrying you, its like second nature to him. and this man gets so fussy if you want to be put down. softly growling in your ear "make me.." while tightening his grip on you, refusing you to wiggle free from his grasp.

-the red-haired captain is genuinely angry if he hears you, or anyone else, talk poorly about you. nothing pisses him off faster than hearing untrue statements about the love of his life. the piercing glare he'll shoot your way if you start to talk down to yourself could kill. eustass will pull you close to him, whispering in your ear, the slightest hint of a growl in his gruff voice as he says "let me show you just how beautiful you are."

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tags ♡: @3v37773 @twiishaa @dindjarins1ut @thepotatocatto @peachycat17 @irethepotato @dreamcastgirl99; want to join the taglist? click here!

a/n: i really struggled finishing this because it's lowkey hard to think straight with my head pounding but you'll have to pry my laptop out of my cold dead hands if you think i'm going to let being sick stop me from writing some fanfic 😌

a/n: also sorry for cutting law's part a little short, i literally can't look at my computer any longer 💀

a/n: enjoyed this fic? here's my masterlist!!

[milktiicup]

Can you make a Mr. Silver or Mr.Machete fic. I've barely seen any fics of them :(, just kinda been consuming what I can for a fic. The most common ones I encounter are Mr.Crawling and Mr.Scarletta (which I've finished all of them possibly)...

Any tag is good, fluff, angst, uh... smut? I'm just gonna read anything since I'm so content-deprived 😭

anatomy of feeling

He saw you as a research subject, and you doubt he even saw you as a friend. And yet, you let him cut you open, spread you apart and put you back together. The least he could do is kiss you in return, right?

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ hhelellooooo have this mr silvair fic realising he actually kinda likes u lol

warnings. AAAAAAAANGST, unrequited feelings (kind of), mr silvair typical research (u know what i mean), hurt/comfort, HAPPY ENDING! :D

You don’t mind being a test subject- you were too far gone to even consider going home anymore. You were human, you were monster- and now you’re somewhere in between that you don’t have anywhere you can exactly call home, but Mr. Silvair was ‘kind’ enough to lend you his room, a bed to sleep on, all in exchange of hacking your body to a mushy pile of meat from time to time!

It’s not an ideal situation to be in, head over heels on the guy who researches your body inside out- and it’s not like he even likes you- you’re not even sure if Mr. Silvair is one to understand romantic feelings, anyway.

You remember the first day he indulged you- missing human skin to skin contact, missing a real connection to somebody. Mr. Gap had so kindfully lent you a magazine from the human world, and you can only imagine he gave you it free of charge because you were so down. Of course, it just had to be a magazine promoting some romance movie, the lead couple all snuggled up and kissing on the front page.

You broke down crying. You mean, of course Mr. Gap meant well, but really? It was an embarrassing state you were in, fat tears running down your face and dropping onto your legs.

Mr. Silvair had found you, obviously. Your new home was a research room. 

“You okay?” he asked, lips tugging into a frown. “Pain? Hurt?”

“Sad,” you corrected, using your raincoat sleeve to dry your eyes. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Me sad. Miss home. Want home.”

Mr. Silvair kneeled down in front of you. “This home.”

You bit your lip, and looked away. “Miss…” Stuff? Things? “...stuff from home.” You gesture to the magazine. “Humans. Touch.”

“Miss this?” he questioned, taking a seat beside you. He picked up the magazine, eyeing the front cover through his bandaged eyes, and flipped through the pages momentarily. “What miss?” 

You pointed to the front page. “...This ‘kiss.’”

“Mouth touch?”

You nodded. “Mouth touch.”

“Kish?”

You shook your head. “Kisssss,” you hissed the words out. 

“Kisssss,” he repeated, your hiss echoing.

You giggled, cheeks still wet from your tears. You wipe your eyes once more. “Miss kiss. Miss hug. Miss… human touch.”

Mr. Silvair set the magazine down and faced you. He patted the spot next to him, and you scooched yourself over. He tilted his head at you, a smile on his face. “Me kiss you?” he asked, and you froze. “Kiss you, you happy. Interested in kiss.”

The weight of his words settled over you like an uncertain storm. You studied Mr. Silvair’s face. The suggestion caught you off guard, yet his sincerity was unmistakable.

Your lips parted to speak, but no words came. Could he even comprehend what he was offering? Did he understand what kissing meant to humans, or was he simply trying to imitate the concept based on your longing? He had always been practical, clinical even, in his interactions.

Who were you kidding? Of course he doesn’t understand. He saw you as a research subject, and you doubt he even saw you as a friend. And yet, you let him cut you open, spread you apart and put you back together.

The least he could do is kiss you in return, right? 

You nodded, and Mr. Silvair didn’t make a move to kiss you at all.

“Teach kiss,” he said.

Oh. Right.

His lips, cold as they were, carried a surprising softness, almost cushiony. It was strange, almost surreal, feeling such a delicate part of him when so much of your life in his presence had been sharp edges, instruments, and prodding hands. There was no pressure in the kiss, no demand- just a willingness to learn. It was methodical, curious, like an experiment he was determined to get right.

After that moment, his kisses were a frequent part of your life. He sliced you, diced you, and put you back together and kissed you so softly afterwards that whatever remaining pain you felt was an afterthought. 

And you still weren’t happy. His kisses were to keep you in check, to keep you from being a sad little subject. And of course, your body may not be human, but your feelings and heart were. It just reminded you that no matter how much he touched you, or when he learned where to put his hands as the kisses deepened, that he was still unattainable. He still wasn’t yours, but you were his. 

“You okay?” he asks, offering you a hand off of the table. “Mind flawed? Shape flawed?” 

“I’m okay,” you reply with a shake of your head, and grasping his hand. “Mind good.”

Mr. Silvair smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist and interlocking your fingers together. His head ducks down, silver hair falling off of his shoulder and presses his lips to yours. You close your eyes, indulge in the moment, and move your lips against his.

It hurt.

It was like pressing against a bruise you couldn't stop prodding- painful, but addictive in its familiarity. Because no matter how much you wished otherwise, you couldn’t forget that these kisses weren’t rooted in love or desire. They were a kindness, a calculated gesture to keep you "fixed," to stabilise his research subject.

And you couldn’t bear it anymore.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what his closeness did to you- how much it fed the ache of your loneliness while also making it worse. He didn’t understand the depths of your feelings, and he never would. For him, this was just another experiment, another connection to study and emulate. But for you, it was everything.

So you decided, silently and painfully, to stop kissing him.

The next time he leaned in, tilting his head expectantly, you pulled away ever so slightly. “Not now,” you murmured, offering a small, strained smile. He tilted his head, confusion flickering over his face, but didn’t press further.

At first, it seemed like nothing had changed. He continued his work as usual, observing, dissecting, and repairing you with the same meticulous care. But when the moments came- those pauses where he’d normally press his lips to yours- you’d shift away, redirecting the moment with a comment or a question.

And he noticed.

At first, he didn’t say anything, but you saw the way his brows furrowed whenever you turned away, the way his hands hovered near you, uncertain. He started lingering after procedures, watching you with an intensity that made your chest tighten. You could tell he was waiting, expecting.

One day, after yet another procedure, he hesitated longer than usual. His hand brushed against yours, his face mere inches away as he whispered, “Sad again?”

You shook your head quickly, forcing a smile. “No. Not sad.”

He frowned. “No kiss,” he said, more a statement than a question. His voice carried a weight you hadn’t heard before. 

You swallowed hard.“I don’t need it,” you said softly, though your heart screamed otherwise. “I’m okay.”

He stepped back slightly, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you thought he’d let it go. But then he spoke, “Kiss… make you happy.”

Your chest ached at the simplicity of his words, the sincerity behind them. He didn’t understand. He didn’t know how much more it hurt to keep pretending, to keep grasping at something that wasn’t real.

“It’s not about that,” you said, your voice trembling. “I’m okay. Really.”

Mr. Silvair didn’t respond. Instead, he nodded slowly, and turned away.

In the days that followed, he grew quieter. His usual precision faltered, his movements distracted. He still cared for you, still treated you with the same careful attention, but the pauses- the moments where he’d once leaned in for a kiss- were now filled with silence.

One evening, after he injected the medicine into your arm, you heard him speak from across the room. “No kiss… you not happy.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you turned your head to look at him. He sat at his desk, his hands clasped tightly together, his head bowed.

“It’s not that simple,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. You blinked them back. Just how much more of this could you take before you break fully, and he couldn’t put you back together anymore? 

He looked up, his bandaged eyes meeting yours as though he could see straight through you. “Me not enough?” 

The words broke something inside you. Because he wasn’t enough- not for what you wanted, not for what you needed. But the truth was, you weren’t enough for him either. You couldn’t make a man who doesn’t understand like you. Any attempt was futile. 

So you stayed silent, letting the weight of your unrequited feelings hang in the air between you.

Days passed, and the silence between you and Mr. Silvair grew heavier, though neither of you addressed it directly. You carried the weight of your feelings alone, trying to convince yourself that distancing was the right choice. Meanwhile, his quiet melancholy lingered, each unspoken word from him carving a deeper ache in your chest.

But then, one evening, everything changed.

You sat on the bed, fiddling absentmindedly with the corner of your raincoat. Mr. Silvair had been working at his desk for hours, his silver hair catching the faint light as he scribbled notes and adjusted instruments. You thought he was too absorbed in his research to notice you, but suddenly, he turned.

“I…” he began, his voice hesitant, and he stood up, walking toward you with slow, deliberate steps.

You glanced up, startled. “What is it?”

He stopped just in front of you. Your legs hung off the bed. “You… stay sad,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “No pain. No hurt. Shape good. Mind good. Why?”

The question hit you harder than you expected. You took a shaky breath and shrugged. “It’s… hard to explain.”

“Explain,” he pressed, his tone more insistent. “Want you happy.”

It was as if someone had dumped ice cold water on top of you. Want you happy. Why? He shouldn’t have cared in the first place if you were happy or not- he should’ve just cared that you were sound of mind, and not trying to kill everything in this place. Your hands shook. Your breathing picked up. Your heart hammered uncomfortably against your rib cage.

Your fists clenched. You scowled. “Why care?” I’m nothing but a subject. “Me… only research.”

Your question caught him by surprise. He frowns, and takes a seat next to you on the bed. Mr. Silvair is silent for a moment, processing, thinking. “Not-...” he stops himself. You gaze at him from the corner of your eye, his fists clenching and unclenching in his lap. “Not only research.”

Great. Friendzoned. 

“You don’t understand,” you say, “You don’t feel like I feel, Mr. Silvair. You can’t understand.” And under your breath, you utter, “Told me that a million times already…” 

“Teach me,” he said simply. 

Your breath caught at his words. They were so simple, so stark in their honesty, yet they cut through all your swirling thoughts. Teach him? How could you possibly teach someone like Mr. Silvair something as complex, as human, as love? Did he even have the capacity for it?

You stared at him, analysing. Was he being… for real? His bandaged eyes stared intently at you as if he could see straight into the messed up web of your emotions. His lips, which had been both your salvation and your torment, were pressed together in a slight, thoughtful frown.

“Teach you…” you repeated, your voice trembling. “How?”

He tilted his head. “Teach ‘kiss,’” he pointed out softly. “Teach this. This feeling.”

You knew better than to believe in it. He didn’t know what it meant to love, not in the way you felt it, not in the way humans could. He was a scientist, a researcher, so lost in his experiments that he’d forgotten what it meant to simply feel without measuring it, calculating it, dissecting it into pieces. He wanted to understand, yes- but could he really? 

“Can’t…” you mumbled. “I don’t think I can. Cannot learn to feel. You don’t feel like me.”

Mr. Silvair’s frown deepened, and he reached out, his cold fingers brushing yours. The touch was hesitant, almost unsure, but it made your heart ache all the same. “Feel... something,” he said, voice low. “When you sad, me… don’t like.”

You stared at him, startled. It wasn’t a declaration of love, not by any means, but it was more emotion than you’d ever heard from him before. More than you thought he could express.

“Why?” you whispered. “Why do you care if I’m sad?”

He hesitated again, his fingers tightening slightly around yours. You half expected an Me interested in you, but… “You… important,” he said haltingly, as though the words themselves were foreign to him. “You hurt, me feel wrong. Dislike. Interested in you… care you.”

Your heart ached. “You’re serious?”

He nodded. “Want you happy. Interested… learn. Want learn.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, hope stirred in your chest. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t the fairy tale romance you’d dreamed of, but it was real.

“Then… let’s figure it out. Together.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Together.”

This time, when he leaned in, you didn’t pull away. The kiss was still awkward, still unsure, but it carried a warmth that hadn’t been there before—a promise, fragile but genuine.

And for the first time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you’d found a place to call home. Not in a room or a world, but in the arms of someone who wanted to learn how to care for you as much as you cared for him.

[muli-wam]

A/n: I needed to get this out 😩 Gojo being a cute lil softie for his s/o is all I need.

Angry!Gojo who comes home at two in the morning from a grueling mission, insanely tired and irritated that he missed your date night.

He takes off his shoes and walks to the living room to be met with your sleeping figure. You were still wearing your dress and your makeup was still done. He feels his heart pang from the sight.

Angry!Gojo picks you up and takes you to your shared bedroom, gently laying you down onto the plush blankets, though unfortunately for him, you're a light sleeper.

You rub your tired eyes, mascara slightly smudging in the process, before fixing your gaze on the familiar face hovering over you. "Toru? You're home," you say with a smile on your face.

Angry!Gojo who's featured slightly soften at the sight of you. Warmth fills his heart as he basks in the heat of your body and the sweet scent of Your purfume.

Angry!Gojo who coos and whispers sweet nothings into your ear as he lays gentle kisses along the column of your neck.

"Missed you," he whispers, running his hands along your body, feeling the smoothness of your legs against his palms.

Angry!Gojo who helps the both of you undress, softly kissing your flesh after each article of clothing is removed.

Angry!Gojo who lays under the multitude of blankets, cuddled up into your side as you tell him about your day.

Giggles and hushed whispers can be heard throughout the room. Nothing but what looks like a heap of blankets sit atop the bed, when really its you and Satoru cuddled up underneath.

Angry!Gojo who's not so angry anymore, now that he is with you. Him being in your presence made him forget all of his troubles, the only thoughts playing in his mind is you.

He promises he would make it up to you later, but for now, laying in the center of your king-size bed with your limbs tangled together and hearts beting in sync was the only place Satoru needed to be.

----------------

Another A/n: yall know that one trend it was like "when I'm angry and she's the only one who can calm me down" DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABT BC THIS LOWKEY GIVIES OFF THAT VIBE. 😭

So TeLl Me HoW's It FeEl SiTtInG oVeR tHeRe

[thereoncewasagirlnamedjane]

small worlds.

✩ read on ao3 ✩ steven g. rogers masterlist ✩ forget-me-not creative campaign ✩ library blog

‣ pairing — 1940s!steve rogers x f!reader

‣ contents — one-shot, hurt/comfort, somewhere between fluff and angst, implied smut, established relationship

‣ summary — all he ever wanted to do was the right thing. it never occurred to him that doing the right thing could possibly hurt someone he loves.

‣ word count — 1.5k

‣ notes — this is my submission for my own creative campaign lmao 😅 i just got inspired looking at those prompts again, okay? and these are my missing pre-serum!steve hours 😭 and after the week i’ve had, i need some comfort~

prompts used: ✩ geranium = returning joy ✩ plumeria = “well, this is new.” ✩ zinnia = mourning your absence

Bucky had been wrong. 

His best friend predicted that you would be thrilled to see the new him. After all, the girls at the SSR couldn’t seem to stay away, nor could the flight nurses out on the frontlines, no matter how many times he told them he had a girl back home and just wasn’t interested. 

Howard was the only one who knew well enough to warn him; given how Steve had left things with you before he took off on his tour across the country, he shouldn’t expect everything to be sunshine and rainbows when he got back. 

The two of you had fought, the biggest one in the history of your relationship, and hadn’t spoken to each other in days before he had to leave. His efforts to lie his way into the army was always a source of friction between you, and this, being selected as the subject for Project Rebirth, was just another straw on the camel’s back. 

Steve knew you were just afraid for him, as anyone who mattered to him would be, but it was something he knew he had to do. Unfortunately he couldn’t be convinced, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t also terrified of facing the consequences. 

“Be prepared to grovel, Rogers, like you’ve never done before,” Howard warned, giving him a grave look before waving him off. “Hell hath no fury.” 

So, he showed up at your door only days before he had to leave for Italy, holding a bouquet of flowers and shuffling nervously on his feet as he waited. Steve didn’t know what to say when you opened the door, feeling a little awkward himself at nearly two feet taller and about a hundred fifty pounds heavier. 

You stared at him for a moment, almost as if you didn’t recognize him. 

“Hi,” he said sheepishly, giving you a hesitant but hopeful smile. You looked like you might reel back and punch him, no doubt still angry about the way things went down and how he’d returned to you looking like an entirely different man, but then your face crumpled. 

There were downsides to the serum, he realized, as he could smell the salt of your tears before they even reached your lashes. He leaned down, bending at the waist, something he never had to do before, letting you wrap your arms around his widened shoulders. He could taste the relief in your tears as he kissed them away. 

In the hours that followed, however, you remained distant. He caught you staring thoughtfully at him from across the kitchen, only to quickly avert your eyes when he looked up from the hearty dinner you made him. 

You pulled away subtly when he reached for your hand or the soft dip of your waist, flinch when he moved to kiss your cheek, and returned all his dumb jokes with tight smiles. 

“Well, this is new,” he grinned softly as he stepped behind you, his chest firm against your back, grabbing a jar on a high shelf that you were struggling to reach. 

It took you a few moments too long to turn towards him, your lips curving upwards ever so slightly but it never quite touching the rest of your features. 

Even when he lay next to you that night, it felt like you were miles away. He was leaving soon, all the way to Italy and then to god knows where else, and he didn’t want to leave things this way. He didn’t want to go yet, not while he was uncertain about whether you’d welcome him back next time. 

But as always, it’s like you hear the thoughts in his head without him ever needing to speak them. It’s why this works; he broods and you see through him, as though you have a map directly to his heart. 

“It feels strange,” you confess in hushed tones, the two of you lying in the darkness of your bedroom. When the two of you touch, it feels foreign. You feel guilty, as though you were somehow being unfaithful to a version of him that would never come back. 

“I know,” he says, reaching for you. His heart sinks when you pull away. He lays there in silence, his enhanced vision capturing you so clearly in the dark, staring up at the ceiling as your bottom lip quivers. 

“You took him from me,” you whisper, eyes shining so brightly with anguish in the moonlight. It takes a moment for him to realize what you mean. He can hear the tears sliding down your temples and dripping onto the pillow. 

All he ever wanted to do was the right thing. It never occurred to him that doing the right thing could possibly hurt someone he loves. 

“I’m still me,” he murmurs, his fingers desperate to wipe them away, his arms itching to find their place around you once again. 

“To everyone else, even to you, he was always just that scrappy little nobody from Brooklyn. But to me?” You are weeping now, your voice thick with grief even though he’s right next to you. “To me, he was everything. I don’t want Captain America. I want Steve. My Steve.” 

Steve swallows hard. You always were the only one who did. 

“He’s still here,” he pulls you close and this time, you don’t fight him. You fold yourself against him, crying harder when you are met with the hard sharp planes of his new body, instead of his usual soft edges that always seemed to embrace you right back. “I’m right here.” 

He lets you cry into his chest until, after what seems like hours, you finally drift off into an uneasy sleep, the front of his shirt still damp with your despair. 

But it doesn’t take much longer to find a new normal. 

He still smiles at you the same way as the day you met, a little sheepish and a little shy even after all this time. 

He still does that thing where he intertwines his fingers with yours, his touch a little evasive, teasing you a bit before finally pressing your palms together. 

He still holds you for as long as you need, always letting you be the first one to pull away. 

He still quietly fills the pages of sketchbooks that he hides on your bookshelf. 

He still eats so slowly, taking his time at your dining table because even a slightly bigger portion than normal used to make him sick. 

He still looks at the most terrible parts of humanity and decides that the world is worth saving. 

You slowly get used to the fact that he can reach the higher cabinets in your kitchen now, that he no longer falls ill at each turn of the season, and that while you will never get to see your Steve again—even though you think of him often—this Steve is right: he never really left. 

And when you’ve forgiven him, because there really was no question about it, when you’re ready to give yourself to him again, you’re both a bit nervous and awkward. 

It takes a little bit of dancing to get used to each other’s bodies again; you’re much smaller compared to him now, and he’s afraid he’ll forget his newfound strength and inadvertently hurt you somehow. 

But, much like you did before when he was small and inexperienced, he guides you and you eagerly follow. He lets you come to him, allows you to set the pace and boundaries of how far you’re willing to go, and he always looks at you the same. He even says it again—

“I can’t believe you’re here with me,” he croaks, so close you can smell his aftershave. 

It’s moments like these when you fully realize that while the serum changed him on the outside, it never touched what was inside. As always, he handles you with the utmost care, pulling you cautiously onto his lap, his hands gently cradling either side of your face as he drinks you in, eyes darting back and forth across your face before he finally leans in to kiss you. 

His eyes never once leave yours, even as you abandon your dress and undergarments on the bedroom floor. His fingertips slide down your sternum in a featherlight touch, down the valley between your breasts, before turning his hand over to brush his knuckles lightly over your rib cage, raising goosebumps in his wake. 

You stare into his familiar eyes, the ones that fill your vision with the clearest blue—as if you’re looking into a cloudless summer sky, just like the day you met the boy with a heart ten sizes too big for his chest—and you sigh in relief. 

“There you are,” you purr against his lips. 

His lips stretch into a smile, coaxing yours into doing the same. He remembers a promise he’d made to someone else not that long ago, and he promises it again—to you this time. 

That you will stay who you are. 

That he will never lose your Steve. 

fin.

[randomnessofthehighestorder]

Arcane season 2!

Just watched Act 3 and I’m not ready to say goodbye after all that happened…

(Spoilers under the cut)

Hextech really was the problem all along. Ep 7’s alternative timeline is proof of that. Without it, both Zaun and Piltover would be at peace…

Mylo, Claggor, Vander, Silco, Benzo, they’re all alive and Powder never turned into Jinx in that timeline. The only bad thing there is Vi’s dead. What could’ve been…

Jayce’s actions make sense now, goes to show that you shouldn’t rush to judgement before you know the whole story.

TimeBomb kiss! TimeBomb kiss! I ship them so much!!! 🤩🤩🤩

Heimerdinger is no more. But at least he lived a life of peace in another universe… Rest in peace, Professor.

Mel’s fully embraced her mage status, her magic looks amazing, and her new look! She’d make a good in-game champion…

Viktor’s fully embraced the glorious evolution now, and turned his followers mechanical. Low key kinda scary though… his new look must be the rework Riot was talking about for his in-game self!

Warwick NOOOOOO! 😭😭😭 Vander is gone, only the beast remains, with a mechanical twist… RIP Uncaged Wrath of Zaun.

Ambessa really was the villain all along, even if her intentions were misguided. She truly deserved a warrior’s death…

They did it! CaitVi did the deed! I’m so happy for them! They truly belong together, far from being oil and water… ❤️❤️❤️

Jinx took Isha’s death hard. Someone give her a hug… 🫂

We lost some good people in the war, Loris, that Jinxer. But it was worth it now that the good guys won…

Zaun entered the fight in a truly epic fashion! The twin cities are united! 🎉🎉🎉

The Boy Saviour did what he meant to do! He shattered time and saved the day! Ekko FTW!

The mage that saved Mrs Talis was Viktor?! It all makes sense, he traveled across timelines giving young Jayce a crystal with a different rune to save the future, and only one was successful. MIND. BLOWN. 🤯🤯🤯

What happened to Jayce and Viktor? They used the crystal, but at what cost? Maybe we’ll never know… also, they hugged! He truly has forgiven him…

JINX NO!!!! She sacrificed herself to save her sister from Warwick! Guess Isha won’t be lonely up there… RIP Loose Cannon… 😭😭😭😭

CaitVi got their happy ending. But what’s next for them? Fanfic writers, you know what to do…

Maddie betrayed Piltover?! Guess all the hate was rightfully placed, especially now that she’s dead…

Swain? What’s your crow doing here?! Watching Noxus retreat? I don’t trust you…

This show was amazing and it ended on a truly epic note. I’m really gonna miss it. Thank you, Riot and Fortiche for giving us a story we’ll never forget…

[goostbusters]

SPENCER REID HC'S

- Not big on PDA at all 😪 but at home he's ALL over you, holding your legs on his lap, head on your lap, leaning his head on your shoulder, holding your hand <333

- Sends you detailed letters when he's out in the field for more than a day but he also sends you short texts for updates during the day like "We just delivered the profile 👍" UGHHH

- HAS bought the same brand as your shampoo to bring when hes out working and misses you (every night he spends without you)

- Rambles about literally anything - yapper x listener - you are forced into listening to his long rambles that you don't usually understand but he's just so cute like WHIDJRKKK😭😭💗💗

- He will equally listen to you if you want to though <33 you're the most important thing in his life and he just loves to watch you

- When you fall asleep before him or when he wakes up before you he watches you (like mgg in 68 kill). His eyes are ALWAYS fixed on you when you're in a room with him

- Kisses.

- Kisses when you wake up, kisses when he's leaving, kissing when he gets home, kissing when you're making dinner, kissing when you're laying in bed HE JUST LOVES TO GIVE YOU LIL SMOOCHES WHENEVER HE CAN

- He loves it when you read to him, sometimes when he's at work he calls you before he goes to sleep because he can't rest without you

- Sometimes he can just stare at you in silence, just taking you in

"omghowaretheyrealandwhyaretheylettingmesitherelikethisomgtheyrejustsopretty"

HES SUCH A LOVERBOY, AND I LOVE HIM. GOODNIGHT.

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

Omg I heard you were asking for Act 3 requests? Maybe something angsty, the reader and Viktor are in an established relationship, and it could be related to his lack of humanity, their paths splitting, or even his death if you're able to work that out. Basically, sad. Thank you

I cried just thinking about this😭😭

---Falling from grace was okay with you---

It's cold in piltover. Perhaps for all of the month, it had been cold, and it was only getting colder. Viktor was sat by his desk, his bony, mechanical body encased by his navy robe. For what seemed like the greater part of the night, viktor was stuck in his project, never moving or willing to look anywhere that wasn't his gadget.

And for this, you felt tonight was the coldest night of the year.

It was well past midnight when viktor came to you in your quarters. He was tired, body lean, and drooping as he held his elegant cane against himself. Lie strewn across the bed as you had been, waiting for him to return, You watched him as he sorted out a small satchel he brought with him.

"Hello, my love," Viktor kissed your head.

"I missed you vik, you were gone so long"

You spoke as you picked at your nails. There wasn't anything unusual about viktor coming back to you in the late hours of the night. Sometimes, he doesn't come back at all.

There is nothing quite as painful as watching your lover become a stranger. You feel as though this is the first time you've ever seen him since your wedding. 2 years ago. Viktor is sitting on the small chair at the end of your bed as he takes off his dark robe.

"I had a late night. I apologize if I worried you"

"It's not the first time you have. You should stop staying so late, baby. It's not good for you"

Viktor grunted. "How do you know what's good for me?" His tone was sharp and harsh, but quick, like he had been waiting to say it.

Your eyes narrowed, and your mouth pursed. A worried glint went bright in your eyes as you caught viktors Amber hue in your gaze. There's something inside his dilated pupil that haunts you and eats you from the inside out all within one glance.

His eyes have grown so dark, like burnt chocolate. He himself has grown so dark. And almost alien like, you almost don't recognise him and you wouldn't know it was him if you didn't see his freckle.

"What happened to you, viktor?" Your brows arched upwards. Your face spoke volumes, and viktor knew he couldn't get out of this again.

He liked to avoid arguing. It was his ignorance and arrogance that led to his undoing. Viktor was the love of your life, but watching as he, time and time again, ignored the issues that were arising within your relationship.

"I can't keep doing this viktor I can't." Tears welled in your eyes as you stared at him.

His Amber eyes like a desert, barren and dry, and with little to no sense of water outside of the tears that threatened to drip from the ducts.

"I don't know what you want from me." viktor looked at the floor.

He always looks at the floor.

"I want my husband back. I can't keep watching you deteriorate and not do anything about it"

Viktor weakly banged his mechanical, purple fist against the bedpost, shaking it slightly. Your lips parted, and your eyes tried their hardest to soften.

"I am not sick." Viktor sneered. "I am an amalgamation of all that is me. I never wanted my human body"

You tilted your head as you sat up, your hand reached for his, and for the first time in a long time, there was magic that wasn't just a blue crystal.

"Being human isn't just being sick. It's being able to feel every emotion. Small or big, whether you stub your toe or go sky diving, it's all about the experience" you smiled at him.

Your face was hopeful that viktor would understand. But his own said otherwise, he seemed almost monster like with his deep purple eye bags and his darkening eyes. His cheekbones are more defined and more prominent than ever. His hair is longer and messier.

"Outside of you, I have nothing to live for." His lips curled down into a pained frown.

Nothing? What about jayce? And hextech? And a future where piltover and zaun exist peacefully? What about the children you could have and how you will grow old together?

"You have everything to live for"

"I HAVE NOTHING!" Viktor exclaimed, his voice hoarse and raspy. Almost alienlike

Your poor boy was so tired. He was so very tired.

"If you do not want to keep living like this. Just say it. Say it, and I'll leave." Viktor spoke gently.

"Leave? N-no I don't want you to leave?!"

Your mind raced a million miles an hour. Your eyes darting around, panicking. "I want you to stay, so that w-we can fi-fix this"

Viktor shunned his head away and shook it. You could see in his face, even now, that he has so much on his mind and he doesn't know what to do with it.

"We are beyond fixing, my love. Our paths are long diverged, and it was simply our souls that have kept us together. " viktor stood up straight and leant on his decorated cane.

"N-no," you shook your head.

Standing up in front of viktor, your eyes pleaded with his own. There was no longer the curious and hopeful sparkle in his golden brown eyes, but now a river of tar and mahogany.

"Is it better for us to die together?" You asked.

"We died long ago. I will not die with you again. You need to let me go. You do not want this with me"

"I want everything with you -"

Viktor put his cold metal hand on your tear stained face. His thumb stroked your cheek gently.

"Do not cry, love"

"Viktor..."

You spoke featherlight, barely audible.

"Goodbye, my love. I hope that there is a world where I did not turn my back to you"

[crustyfloor]

I’m actually so unwell about all of these expressions. They just love to make him suffer. IM GOING TO

rio de janiero

[n0heart]

it's not a nude nor kinky content but i wanna share this pic because My Boy took it today while we were at central park and it's special to me 🥰

[ikram1909]

Gavi with Fabian ❤️

[kindahoping4forever]

Ash with Jordan Greenwald on IG

[jinseulss]

i just wanna say whoever's idea it was to put jinki in different outfits for every fanmeet stop deserves a big kiss on the forehead

I mean look at the material

[sunflawyer]

I haven't gushed for so long god i missed him more than anything 😭😭🧡

last night he came to my dream and it was the sweetest thing ever. i found myself laying on the couch, and i saw him sitting beside me. then he pulled me into his arms and held me really tight 😭😭😭🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 GOD HE MAKES ME SO HAPPY I WANT TO CRY

i can still feel his cuddle 🥹... AHH JIMMY YOU'RE JUST THE SWEETEST THING EVER LOOK AT HIS SMILE HE'S THE SWEETEST GUY IN THE WORLD I LOVE YOU😭😭😭😭😭😭💓💓💓💕💓💗💓💗💓💕💓 I WANT TO PINCH HIS CHEEKS SO BADDD JIMYYYY WAAHHHHH

[king-magppi]

A buncha stuff I doodled and some talksprites I recreated in my style for "painting" practice! 😊 It's been almost TWO whole months since I first got into Psychonauts now and even after playing the second one, I still prefer the first one! It's been a while since I got into a franchise that had me invested in more than one or two characters! I really hit the jackpot!

[hyunpic]

hyunjin on bubble: it’s been a while since i wore a headband