#Not really a drabble

[middleearthpixie]

Yes! I think you should definitely do “warm beverages” ☺️

Okay - here it is and I know it is REALLY late, but time just really has lost all meaning for me lately. And I know it's supposed to be a drabble, but for me, this IS a drabble (everything I write turns into a monster, after all) so here goes...

Hot Apple Cider

Prompt: Warm Beverages (Day 3)

Summary: You and Thorin spend a cold afternoon at a corn maze with your children…

Characters: Thorin x reader, Rina Durin, Frerin Durin, Dwalin

Warnings: none, pure fluff

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,863

Khuzdul Translations: 

’Adad - father 

’Amad - mother 

Raklûn - precious, darling one 

Maralmizi/maralmizu - I love you 

Mesmel - jewel of all jewels 

Amrâlimê - my love

***

It was a gray, blustery day with a definite chill in the air. Not exactly the picture perfect weather for pumpkin picking or to wander about in an immense corn maze, but at the same time, no one seemed to mind the dreariness around them. Shrieks of laughter echoed all around you to let you know just how little the weather mattered. Despite the fact that you were freezing and your hands were almost numb, you still smiled. This was just as you remembered it from your own childhood—pumpkin patch, corn maze, hayrides, the earthy tang of apples as they were pressed for their juice, hints of cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg in the air. You hadn’t been to the farm since you were a girl and as you slipped your hand into Thorin’s, your memories came rushing back as the heat from his hand sank into yours to thaw it a tad. 

“I should go after them,” he said, frowning in the direction of the corn maze. “They’re in there alone and anything can happen.”

“They aren’t alone.” You squeezed his hand gently. “They are with Dwalin and he is never far behind either of them. Relax, your Majesty, and enjoy a rare free afternoon.”

He smiled down at you. “I’m not so good at relaxing. I have so much work waiting for me back at Erebor.”

“I know, but even a king is allowed a few hours to simply spend doing nothing but listening to his children have fun.”

“I know you’re right, and we needed a bit of time away from everything and it’s only a few hours, but I’m having trouble just the same.”

“Really?” you asked this with a grin. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“I’m sorry, mesmel, there is just so much going on now.”

“I know, but the world will not fall apart all at once. Balin is there if anything urgent comes up.” You slipped your hand from his and eased your arms about his waist. “We miss you, you know.”

“I know. And Mahal willing, the elders will stop being so fussy over everything and agree to the terms of the agreement between us and the elves.”

“They will. They merely need a bit more convincing.”

“Which I can hardly do here.”

“Thorin.” You didn’t even bother to keep the scolding out of your voice. “It is but a few hours away from the negotiations. Balin is more than capable of speaking on your behalf and your children are only young for a short while. Enjoy it.”

His blue eyes closed, his lashes thick black crescents against his cheeks as he drew in a slow, deep breath and then exhaled just as slowly. “You’re right and I am sorry again.”

“You’re forgiven,” you tucked your head against his chest, smiling as he wrapped his arms about you and pressed a kiss into the top of your head. You knew how hard he’d been working, in meeting after meeting from sunup until late at night, all trying to hammer out a trade agreement between the dwarves and the elves of Mirkwood. It had taken every ounce of persuasion you possessed to get him to agree to this outing. Now if only you could find a way to make him relax and actually enjoy his down time. One thing at a time.

Shrieks of laughter rolled your way and a few minutes later, two dark-haired children came racing out of the corn maze, almost falling into one another from laughing so hard. You had no idea what they laughed about, but the sound of them doing it was so silvery and melodic, it was contagious and you smiled as well. 

 Thorin pulled away from you, crouching to scoop up Frerin, your eight-year old son. “Easy, Frer,” he said, swinging him up into his arms. “Where did you lose Dwalin?”

“In there,” Frerin pointed back to the corn maze. “He’s too slow and too bossy and no fun, ’Adad.”

“You lost him on purpose, Rina?” you asked.

Your ten-year old daughter looked up and nodded. “Kind of, yes.”

“Why?”

“Because he kept telling us to go left! Or not that way!” Frerin looped his arms about Thorin’s neck, but held himself away to look his father eye to eye. “He’s no fun, so we gave him the slip.”

Thorin arched a brow. “Gave him the slip?” 

Rina nodded, trying to look somber, but you didn't miss the way her pale blue eyes sparkled with mischief. It was the same look you’d seen so many times in her father’s eyes as well. “At a tee, he said, Turn right, and we went left and he couldn’t keep up. He’s such an old sourpuss.”

You had to hold back your smile, and it wasn’t easy. Both Rina and Frerin seemed so very proud of their sneakiness and they weren’t entirely wrong. At times, Dwalin was very much an old sourpuss. You looked over at Thorin, and only one who knew him as well as you did could see the amusement sparking in his eyes, the slight twitch at the right corner of his beard that gave away his struggle to not smile as well. 

“That wasn’t nice, Rina. We should probably go find him.” You looked back at the massive corn maze. The farm boasted they had the largest corn maze in all of Middle Earth and you didn't relish the thought of trying to find one dwarf in that mess of giant stalks. 

Thorin shook his head. “Nah. He’s a big boy. He’ll find his way out. Besides, they’re right, it is not fun being ordered this way and that. Not,” he added as Frerin’s smile widened, “that I condone just ditching him that way, mind you. Because that was wrong. So, you two will go and find him and apologize.”

Frerin’s gaze fell and his smile faded. “Sorry, ’Adad,” he said sheepishly. “We just wanted to have fun, like everyone else.”

Like everyone else. You heard the laughter and shrieks of the other children in the corn maze and sighed softy. “You and your sister aren’t like everyone else, though, raklûn,” you told him softly, reaching down to rumple his windblown tangle of black curls. “And that’s why Dwalin goes with you places.”

Rina sighed. “But, ’Amad, he never lets us have any fun, though. And that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? It’s supposed to be fun, isn’t it?” She gestured to the maze, then to the rest of the farm around them. Then, she sighed softly. “Oh, all right. Come on, Frer, let’s go find him.”

She held out her hand to her younger brother, and you waited to see if he’d take it or not. Then, he slipped his hand into his sister’s and said, “Can we lose him again?”

“No.” Rina shook her head. “Not this time.” She shot you and Thorin both a pointed look. “It wasn’t nice.”

“Enough,” Thorin told her sternly. “Go and retrieve him before he has a chance grow even crankier.”

“Very well.” Rina let out a sigh that suggested she was the most put-upon girl in all of Middle Earth. “Come on, Frer. Let’s go find the old sourpuss.”

“And stop calling him the old sourpuss!” Thorin called after them.

You smiled as they vanished into the corn maze once more, then looked up at Thorin. “Now’s our chance to lose them all.”

He grinned. “I like how you think.” 

With that, he caught you by the hand and tugged you toward the corn maze as well. You could hear your children ahead of you, so you made certain that when they went left, you went right. And vice versa. And as you wound further into the maze, the sounds of the farm, and of the other maze-goers, faded into the distance. The air smelled sweetly of fresh soil, apples, and cinnamon and it was cold enough that you didn't mind it when Thorin tugged you up against him. 

He smiled down at you. “Finally, a moment alone.”

“Careful, dwarf,” you replied, the glint in his pale blue eyes making butterflies come alive in your belly, “you don’t want to jinx us.”

He bent to you, his lips soft and warm as they met yours, and you melted against him. How was it possible that after nearly a dozen years of marriage, and two children, this man still had the ability to make you feel like a young girl in the grips of her very first crush? Even on a cold, windswept, overcast day, in a corn maze, you felt as if you had just fallen in love with him and you wanted his kiss to last forever. 

He kissed you slowly, deep and lingering, and when he drew back, he pressed his forehead to yours and murmured, “Maralmizi.”

“Maralmizu,” you whispered back, tracing your forefinger along the silvery patch of his beard. It was somehow soft and scratchy at the same time and you’d noticed there were more silver threads shot through with each passing day. Not that it mattered. He was still the same handsome dwarf he’d been when you’d met so many years ago. And you loved him as much now as you did then, perhaps even more. 

“You’re shivering, mesmel,” he murmured.

“It’s cold in here and the wind is cutting thorough me.”

“Would you like something hot to drink?”

“Dwarf, I would kill for that.”

“Then we should probably go find our children,” he whispered, kissing you again.

“Probably.”

“Or we could just let Dwalin keep them.”

“We’d miss them.”

“Not for a while, though.”

“Dwarf.”

“Very well. We will take the children home with us.” He grinned, kissing you a third time. “Can we leave Dwalin here? He is an old sourpuss, you know.”

“I know, but we should probably take him back, too.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“There they are!” Rina’s voice rang out like a bell, lilting and silvery. “Ugh, they’re kissing again!”

“Ew!” 

Thorin straightened up. “Who would like something warm to drink?”

Both Rina and Frerin nodded. “Hot chocolate!”

Dwalin rounded the corner, red-faced from windburn, what was left of his hair blown in all directions. “Aye, a drink sounds perfect. Preferably something with bourbon or rum in it.”

“How about you, amrâlimê,” Thorin turned to you, “would you like a warm drink?”

“Absolutely.” You clasped your hands together to blow on them and stamped your feet, which were cold despite your heavy boots. “I’m almost frozen through out here.”

“Very well. To the food tent and whatever warm drinks they’re selling here.” Thorin draped his arm about your shoulders and caught Rina’s hand while Frerin grabbed your free hand and you all made your way to the food tent to thaw out a bit. 

Hot chocolate. Hot apple cider. Hot cider spiked with bourbon. Everyone had exactly what they wished to drink and you sighed as you slipped your warm spiked cider, and without thinking, leaned your head against Thorin’s shoulder and smiled as his hand came to rest on your thigh. In that moment, you forgot all about being cold.  

***

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[doctor-fancy-pants]

Wednesday Words

Messages

He sends her a message, and two miles away, her mobile chimes.

He wants to talk. He knows she’s busy. He’s worried, is all. When she’s got time.

She’s looking through the telescope, and ignoring her phone. Not because of him. She lost a friend, recently. She doesn’t know why. She asked, several times.

No answer.

No message. That, in itself, is a message, but it hurts, and it’s frightening. Now every delay from every message could be the beginning of a new message, a message of absence and silence.

She watches the stars. She thinks about radio signals, travelling through space.

It would take so long to get a message out there.

You wouldn’t know when to stop hoping, she thinks. People used to write letters, before the internet, the telephones, the telegrams. Letters, carried by ships at sea, or tiny reports on bloody homing pigeons.

What news from the front? she thinks, focused on a distant star. Who knows? Keep an eye out for pigeons. Or the postman. Or radio waves.

Now, you don’t know when to expect it, or when to stop expecting it.

You don’t know when the silence is safe.

She has her headphones on. The music helps. Songs have messages, have meaning. You can consider those at your own pace. They only go one way, and you aren't expected to answer, or know the right thing to say.

The music fills her head. She doesn’t hear her phone chime, another friend, sending another message, to let her know that he’s thinking of her, and he hopes she’s okay.

She is okay, in this moment. She doesn’t expect messages from the stars. Their silence has no weight.

They just burn. That is all they have to do.

I have a Wednesday night writing group. We do prompts, and drabbles, and it’s a good time. Everyone comes out with something so different! They’re short snippets – the drabbles are only supposed to be 100 words, a warm-up for the later prompt. I'm trying to remember to post my favourites as I go. This particular drabble prompt - Messages - hit something hard in my heart, and I didn't try to keep it to 100 words.

[shadow4-1]

"Can you just pretend to love me tonight? Please?"

Simon's never gotten a request like this before.

He's never had any qualms about selling his body. Whether it was for his cock, units of his blood plasma, or his war honed body. He's always done what he's had to - anything to stay off the streets and keep a full belly.

The girls who've paid him always wanted a brute, someone to mount them and take them for all they were worth. That was what he was used to, not some doe-eyed sweet thing begging him to be gentle.

"I want to feel loved." You admit, leaning back on the motel bed, thighs crossed in nervousness. "I um...I know I'm not very pretty-"

Simon leans forward on his knees and kisses you gently. Well, he tries to. The tip of your teeth graze painfully together as he mouths you. You squeak beneath him, hands going up to his shoulders to try and push him off on rabbit instinct. He pulls his mouth off of you just enough to mutter an apology.

"Sorry." He swallows.

You look up at him with impeccably beautiful eyes brimming with tears. You seem to finally understand there's nothing gentle about him even when he tries to be. Simon wants you to call him off, send him out of the cheap hotel. He knows he can't be as sweet at you want - as you deserve. He's just physically not built for that. At least, he's sure of it nowadays. He has a brief memory of holding his newborn nephew but it slips away just as quickly as it came.

"Can we just...go slow?" You ask again. Simon can hear the waver in your voice. You're unsure if you want to continue, but you seem to trust him for some reason. "Really, really slow?"

"Yeah."

He can do slow. He can do glacial. If there's one thing he can do, it's be measured, methodical. He wasn't a Lieutenant for nothing.

For the first time in years, he takes his time. He's used to the fast paced, hungry fucks that pay his rent in thirty minutes. This is...new, not wholly uninvited. He kisses down your collarbone, down the swell of your breasts. He nips at the lacy fabric (you dressed up for him when he was expecting just to rip it all off) as he makes his way down further. He laps at the skin beneath your belly button, making your belly flutter. Ticklish. He likes that.

Simon noses his way between your thighs, easily spreads your legs with his thick forearms. As he kisses down your cloth covered mound he admits he likes how you smell. Usually the taste of women turns him off. He prefers men, but desperate women pay more. You're desperate alright, although its a different type of desperation. Something about the nervous wetness staining your new panties has his cock jumping in his trousers. He presses his nose to the fabric, inhales deeply, and relishes in your shy squeak. Simon starts to understand your desire.

You want to be explored, mapped, and consumed slowly. You want to give up control but feel as if you can stop at any moment. You want to be seen, tasted, then completely devoured.

Instead of slipping your panties to the side, he licks his way down your thighs. You squeal and try to squirm away from the sudden sensation but he doesn't stop. He kisses down your calves and across the top of your feet. His hands are so large that they wrap around your soles completely. Simon pushes them up until they're up by your ears. He knows the position is uncomfortable for you, but he likes the view of your soft, cloth covered mound.

He nips at the back of your ankles and calves, licks down the expanse of your thighs, ans nuzzles into the gusset of your panties. Simon relishes in the squeaks and gasps ans twitches of your expectant body. It's been so long since he's teased someone, much less a sweet lil' thing like you.

Your scent is heady, comforting, nothing like he's experienced before. He finds he really likes just inhaling you in. You whimper, thighs shaking already. He hasn't even licked you yet. Simon finally admits to himself that you're stroking his ego.

He plants a firm, sweet kiss to your cloth covered cunt. The fabric is practically soaked through. He can smell your taste on the tips of his lips. His curiosity wins. He takes a firm, long lick from bottom to top. Simon tastes you, but also the flowery tang of your favorite fabric softener. You taste good. He wants more.

Simon finally releases his hold on your thighs. On instinct, or perhaps strain, they fall apart. You try to sit up but he tugs your body further towards the edge of the bed. He can feel the tension in his old knees from kneeling, but he ignores it. You've opened up your body to him. He wants to take full advantage of it.

Simon goes back to lapping at your clothed cunt. He doesn't stop until his tongue is raw from brushing repeatedly over the stitches. Drool drips down his chin.

"Off."

You huff in confusion, trying to sit up. Instead. With too easy of a tug, off come your panties. There you are. Simon knows he should slow his movements but he doesn't care. You haven't stopped him yet, and he'll be damned if he doesn't get those sweet lips in his mouth. He spreads you apart with his middle and forefinger. You're a sight to behold. Perhaps not pornstar perfect anatomy, but you're delicious looking nonetheless. He eyes your glistening, dripping slit. As bad as he wants to force his tomgue deep inside you, instead he presses a firm kiss to the hood of your clit. You jolt, trying to back away or pull him closer, he can't tell.

Simon follows your movement. He mouths hungrily at your clit, flattens his tongue and practically drools against it. He laps at you with a muted fervor. He doesn't want to hurt you. He can tell you're sensitive. It must've been awhile since the last time you'd had a man willingly do this for you. A damn shame.

Your shaky little moans are like music to Simon's ears. He follows them like a map. He circles your clit, traces the entrance of your hood, even dips lower to tease the sides of your inner lips. You seem to like that alot based on the sounds you make. He sucks on your inner wings and you squeal, thighs wrapping hard around the sides of his head. He does it again and and again until you're hiccuping in delight. Your slick drips down his chin and throat. You're such a good girl for him.

Simon knows he's going to make you cum, it's just a matter of time and technique. He has both on his side. He uses his other hand to pet at your entrance. He tries to commit your anatomy to memory, and so he takes his time dipping the pads of his fingers against your fluttering slit. Despite it obviously having been awhile, your cunt holds no resistance. In fact, it practically swallows up the tip of his middle finger. Fuck yeah, that's what he likes to see.

With measured ease, Simon slips his whole finger inwards and upwards inside of you. You keen and gasp and he can feel your insides twitching. You're tight. So tight he can feel his finger already starting to cramp up from the resistance.

If he's going to fuck you right he's still got some work to do.

[siltyriver]

I am such a slut for Danny having supernatural strength and being able to kill someone with a single slap because he’s used to fighting ghosts who are built Sturdy (and literally can’t die, that is very helpful in a sparing partner) so he has to learn such meticulous control when he moves to Gotham where he starts regularly getting into scuffles with humans who think he’s an easy target (he looks like he has the sturdiness of a wet newspaper) and the whole time he’s more stressed about not drawing the Bats attention by being too good or accidentally killing someone so he has to walk that fine line of acting like a scrawny loser and dipping out at his first chance without being clocked as a meta.

Danny, laying on the ground and getting kicked repeatedly by a thug: *tries to angle himself so the guy can kick out a knot in his back*

Danny: *deadpan* oh, ow, stop that hurts, oof

Robin, watching from the rooftop and recognizing the dramatics from the Supers: father there is a meta

Batman, also watching and having flashbacks to Clark’s earlier days: *so so tired and already mentally getting the adoption paperwork ready*

[fallenneziah]

Overstimulated reader whose cum more times than they can count on their fingers, desperately trying to crawl away and save themselves from any more. Squirming and begging for it to end because of how blissed and fucked out they are.

And he pulls you back, large hands on your thighs, yanking you back over, bending over you to growling in your ear. "Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?"

And he continues to torture your spent organ, making you quiver and moan, shaking as he pulls another orgasm from your body. Telling you how pretty you look like this.

And as you continue to try and squirm, he holds you down in place, keeping you still until you can't fight anymore and give in to everything he has to give you...

[zephyrchama]

We know there's cooking duty, and trash duty, and various cleaning duties that the brothers rotate who's in charge of. They take turns shopping for groceries. When MC becomes their attendant in Nightbrighter, some of these chores are foisted onto them.

Is there a laundry duty? Does MC have to do everybody's laundry? Does Asmodeus keep buying more and more outrageous underwear to leave on top of his laundry so he can tease MC?

---

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whaddya think you’re doin’?”

Mammon walked into his room and caught you red-handed with a pair of his yellow briefs. He nearly flew across the room to snatch them out of your hand.

“Uh, the laundry?” You gestured to a basket of Mammon’s dirty clothes that had been collected from all over. “This would be easier for me if you left it in one place. Getting all of your stuff every week is like a scavenger hunt.”

Mammon threw the dirty briefs over his shoulder. They landed somewhere on the opposite side of the room for you to find again later. You looked at him in exasperation while reaching for a pair of crumpled-up jeans. His face had a rosy tint.

“Why are you doing the laundry?” he demanded.

“Because it’s my job as your attendant,” you answered.

“Wh-? Like, just this week?”

“I’ve been doing your laundry for the last three months, Mammon.”

He craned his neck forward in shock and waited a beat, as if you would say psyche. It’s not that Mammon couldn’t understand you, but this was new information he did not want to process. A hand rose to his forehead, sliding upwards as he pushed in frustration. “Well... cut it out! You look like a pervert. How would you like it if I did your laundry, huh?”

That’d be nice. “Could you, please? That would be great. I don’t have a day to do my own wash, given there’s seven of you and only seven days in a week.” Chores, RAD duties, and devilsitting took up every waking moment.

Mammon sighed and ruffled his hair. He muttered, “Seven…" In an instant, his attention snapped back to you.

"Seven? You’re doin’ everyone’s laundry?” he shouted.

You were ready to pull his jacket off yourself if he wouldn't cooperate. “Yes! And I’m short on time so just give me your dirty clothes!”

--

You cracked the door open ever so slightly. Leviathan was preoccupied with a game at his desktop, the back of his chair pointed at the door. The chair shook from the intensity with which he smacked the controller. Now was the perfect time. With the goal of being as quiet as possible, you crept into Leviathan’s room and made a beeline for his laundry hamper.

“Dooooooooooon’t touch those!” The pitch of his voice rose and fell impressively as Leviathan jumped and scrambled across the tile on all fours to physically block you from the laundry. Did he see your reflection in the monitor? His headphone cord popped out of the PC, its headpiece falling down to tug at his neck, and the gaming controller clattered to the floor. Leviathan slid in between you and his laundry basket like an athlete safely sliding onto a base.

In contrast, you just stood there wide-eyed with a tub of detergent in one hand.

Leviathan stammered a few times, realizing he might have overreacted. “So, uh. You see, Mammon gave us all an earful for letting you touch our clothes,” he explained. “He clearly didn’t listen when Lucifer told us you were doing it.”

“Oh, and you knew? Good job, Levi!"

You both smiled, Leviathan chuckled bashfully at the praise.

"Now give me your laundry.”

His face fell.

“No, wait! I knew you were doing it! But… you know, I never really thought about it. And for once, I think Mammon has a point. So, please!” Leviathan pressed his hands to the floor and bowed his head to the ground. A pose he learned from anime. “I’ll do my own laundry from now on! Just don’t touch it anymore!”

“Why? I've always been careful, I check the tags on your shirts so the colors don't bleed.” All of the brothers' clothes had insanely specific washing instructions. Compared to laundering suit jackets and leather and silk, colorful graphic t-shirts were a walk in the park.

Leviathan did not budge. "That's true. Still, I have dignity that must be protected!"

---

Beelzebub goes through almost twice the amount of clothes that his brothers do due to his regular workouts. Thankfully, he helps you carry them all to the laundry room so you're not struggling alone.

Beelzebub already had everything neatly sorted into two baskets - regular clothes and workout clothes. They were all ready to go when you showed up for the weekly collection. He let you take the lighter one.

Before the two of you left the bedroom, Belphegor called out, "are you doing laundry?" His head lolled over the side of his bed.

"Yeah, do you need anything washed right now? You can put it in with mine," Beelzebub kindly offered.

Belphegor wormed to the edge of his bed and picked up an empty pillow case. "I drooled on this and stuff. Can you take care of it?"

"Sure," you said. "Pass it over."

Getting up was far too much work. Instead, Belphegor loosely balled up the pillow case. With the world's laziest throw, he tossed it in your direction. It managed to sail through the air. It smacked the side of your head and landed on your shoulder.

"Thanks," Belphegor yawned, having already turned his back to you and Beelzebub.

[teddybeartoji]

toji taking little gumi to his first judo match and you know that toji is sitting in the first row with miki, cheering him on with strong words.

and by that i mean that he's not yelling, he's barely raising his voice but he the tone is just so confident, so sure and determined that it makes gumi feel stronger too. simple things like "c'mon, gumi." and "ya have him, ya have him." are enough to clear the boy's mind – there are so many sounds and noises all around him, he's not even the only one who's doing this right now. bright lights and what feels like a hundred pairs of eyes on him were distracting before, overwhelming. but when he sees his dad, clear as day, he knows he can do it.

taking a deep breath in, little gumi eyes his opponent while thinking about everything his old man has been teaching him. patience. the other boy is excited (though gumi is too) and he's more hyper, bouncing around, trying his best to grab onto megumi's attire but he keeps getting swatted away. toji's green eyes meet gumi's over the kid's shoulders and it's the final boost of confidence he needs – in two swift moves, megumi has the boy on the floor, signaling that the match has finally come to an end.

he hears the deep rasp and his head snaps to the voice.

"that's my boy."

he doesn't yell, he doesn't scream – toji now stands by the bleachers with a proud grin on his face with a cheerful miki right beside him. his voice is steady as ever as he praises his from the distance. megumi will never forget this moment.

(toji knows how flustered his son can get if he's under the spotlight and while it is, sometimes, fun to tease him just a little for it – he would never do it in a situation like this. he wants gumi to feel good about his win, he wants him to have fun. he wants him to feel proud of himself too.)

a tiny smile, the faintest one, creeps onto megumi's lips and toji's heart is about to give out. his boy. his son. his little blessing. he watches the coach? grab his tiny hand to rightfully end the match and to show the winner to the crowd around them and toji takes a mental picture of the sight.

gumi's hand reaches up high with the help of the man beside him and he looks like a proper winner. the little boy's cheeks are flushed red from the tussling and his outfit is all disheveled from being yanked around but he looks happy. toji couldn't be more pleased.

and then gumi makes his way over to his dad and sister with haste steps. his arms reach out for toji and he's quick to reciprocate, pulling his baby boy up into his embrace. he hold gumi's head to his neck, knowing that he likes to hide there whenever he's feeling a bit too much.

"ya did s'good, gumi."

tiny fingers dig into toji's sweatshirt and toji knows that megumi heard him. really heard him. he will, of course, keep saying it again and again throughout the day but right now, he just really needed to make sure that gumi knows.

tsumiki fiddles with the hem of gumi's pants and toji gives her a smile before ruffling her hair. her scrunched up face, makes the corners of his own lips tug ever wider as he rumbles out a chuckle.

"wanna go home now?"

toji scratches gumi's warm back in order to get an answer out of him and the only thing he gets is a nod against his neck. and that's more than enough.

[cute-sucker]

smile for the camera

˚❀༉‧₊˚

rafe called you his prized trophy, and you didn't mind it. you trotted in your tight skirts, black card and tiny heels. it was a ritual, something calming. you needed a label, something to stand by.

something that branded you to be his. but you didn't mind his demands, sometimes you were sweet about it. sometimes you let things go wild, but you knew he would take care of you. that was the important thing. that was what you needed most of all/  

there was something about him that made you feel protected. and he liked that you let him do that. you fueled his male insecurities of having to be a strong, strong man, because of how desperately you needed someone like that.

you used to be a pageant queen, a girl who had gems stuck to her forehead, makeup drowning her face, teeth bleached white, and the constant need to be loved. one of your vivid memories was getting dragged to get your hair done, your mother screeching about how needy you were. the whole appointment you cried your eyes out, arms flailing out, whispering questions.

"do you love me mommy?"

and she would pull you up, her lipstick clashing againts her leopard orange jumpsuit. you could already hear the insult, and braced yourself.

"would someone love their cash cow?" then she paused watching your expression. you were five. you didn't know what that meant, but you could feel yourself being inspected like an insect, and then finally when you cowered your gaze to the floor, she hummed with contempt.

"no. now, shut up" then her harsh hand would graze against your chin to fix your hair. you whimpered, hands aching to take out your outfit. the rest of the memory was too painful to remember.

but those days were gone. rafe had caught your eye the first time you worked at the country club. you lacked the vanity or the items that would attract someone who had money, but there was something about your smile.

you were dazzling no matter what, and that was when rafe had seen you. you had gone to the bathroom before to serve him, and came back with pink glossy lips and doe eyes that showed him that you were innocent. you needed protection. you needed someone to give you the firm hand, and then kiss you with forgiveness.  

so there it was. within weeks he would only call you to serve him, and you would do so quickly, the same smile plastered on your face, and finally as if he was pissed he pulled you down. your mom had always told you that the one thing she liked about you was your winning smile. but, something was wrong.

"nah, i don't like that."

you snapped to look at him, your fake smile wavering for a moment, "what's the problem, mr. cameron?"

sometimes that would earn a chuckle out of him, and you could tell the way he was sitting that he liked it but - but there was something wrong, and suddenly he was pulling you down to sit with him. you felt shocked seeing him so close. you could smell his breath, and you felt your heart drum faster.

"get that-" he pointed to your face, "-fucking fake smile outta here. if you wanna make me happy? give me a real smile."

and that was it, and then he grunted almost pushing you up. you sniffled, and then got up, hands reaching to fix your skirt and then hurried out to the backdoor. no one called back for you, and it was almost as if his words echoed all the way home as you caught the bus.

you spent hours crying over that moment. as you got home you rushed to the bathroom. your disgusting apartment smellt of cockroaches, and burnt food, and you sat there in your sink. you smiled. stopped. smiled. stopped. smiled. it hurt the way the cracks of your smile etched into your mouth.

what was wrong with it?

for god sakes what was he talking about?

x

those days were now long gone. no longer did you wait tables, or go back to your crappy apartment that made you feel gross. instead you slept in a warm bed in tanyhill waking up to rafe's firm hands on your body. you snuggled closer to him, placing your hands on his chest.

"hey?" he murmered, head buried in the fluff of his pillow. you giggled at his strange expression, and he quickly stuck his head out, eyes squinted, "what's wrong?"

you sighed, "nothing rafey. i-"

he looked at you again, a pointed look on his face, "spit it out."

you bit your lip, your voice a whisper when you asked your question. you had always been told to never ask questions unless you wanted the backhand, but rafe waited patiently.

"um," you sputtered out, "um, you remember that day when you came into the country club and i was serving-"

he hummed appreciatively, "yeah you were so hot, goddamn-"

at this you giggled again, before placing your hand on his mouth, "gotta shut up for a second-" and then you bit your lip before tilting your head, "remember that day when you told me to stop smiling, or something like you didn't like my smile?"

rafe seemed to furrow his eyebrows, "no, baby, i don't really remember that," he muttered out, and you felt your heart prick.

your eyes watered the way they always did, as your throat clogged up, "i was wondering what you meant by that?"

he sighed finally, looking at you. you looked so small in your pink nightgown, lip stuck out as you seemed to clench your fists to the sides of your body. you watched him carefully, hoping that something - some emotions would show on his face.

he sighed again, before reaching out for you, "baby, come here. you seem so far away," he said soflty, pulling you closer until you were in his lap. he held you close, his words humming a sweet vibration through your body. you felt safe, you felt at home.

you felt your breathing calm, as you listened to his steady beat. his hand moved up and down your back.

"listen," he began, his voice a low rumble, "when I said that, i didn't mean I didn't like your smile. i just meant i wanted to see the real you. not some fake, plastered-on smile you thought i wanted to see."

you sniffled, tears brimming in your eyes, but you felt a small flicker of relief. "but why didn't you just say that?" you whimpered, your voice small and vulnerable.

he tilted your chin up, making you look into his eyes. "i was a dickhead, and you seemed like a sweet girl. i wanted to know you as that sweet girl"

you blinked, a tear slipping down your cheek. he make a soft sound of protest as he wiped the tear away with his coarse thumb, touch tender

"you mean that?" you whispered, your voice barely audible. you felt shy now, folding into your self, as rafe smiled against your skin.

"of course, i mean it," he replied firmly. "y'think i'd lie about something like that?"

finally he pulled you up to give you a firm kiss, "my princess."

you buried your face in his chest, letting his words sink in. the weight of the past seemed to lift, if only a little, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. "thank you, rafe," you murmured against his skin.

he held you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "no need to thank me, baby."

for the first time in a long time, you felt a genuine smile tug at your lips.

[starrystevie]

“i must have been real sweet on you,” eddie murmurs as he runs his fingers over his husband’s cheek, sleepy and sated, warm in their bed. 

steve chuckles, twisting his head to catch the tips of eddie’s fingers with a kiss. “why are you talking past tense? you’re not sweet on me now?”

the room is peacefully still. years of baby monitors are long gone only to inevitably give way to their daughter’s teenage years of slamming doors and too loud stereo speakers. but in this moment, with the pale moonlight streaming in through the windows and crickets chirping in the distance, the room is peaceful, thick with love. 

“quit your pouting, ‘course i’m sweet on you now.” eddie wipes away steve’s fake frown with a kiss, turning it into a sticky sweet grin. “it’s just something my mom used to tell me. that freckles are all the places your soulmate in a past life kissed you.”

eddie pushes steve back so he’s laying flat on the mattress and dips his head to press featherlight kisses on the side of his neck. across his shoulders. over his cheeks. his fingertips flutter over the spots afterwards, leaving goosebumps in their wake despite the heat radiating between them. 

“must have loved you a whole lot in our last lives to leave so many on you now,” eddie whispers, pulling back to stroke the back of his hand over steve’s face once more, letting his lips curl up in a dopey half smile that only steve ever gets to see. 

it doesn’t take long for steve to tilt his head up and press kisses of his own where he can; under eddie’s eye, the bottom of his chin, right over his heart. it doesn’t take long for eddie to giggle as his sensitive spots are found and attacked with ticklish kisses and fluttering eyelashes. it doesn’t take long for their legs to tangle together underneath the sheets and their breaths to get caught in their chests and their hearts to start beating a beautiful melody of their own making. 

steve lays a firm kiss to the side of eddie’s chest, over jagged white scarring and half bitten away tattoos. over memories that somehow don’t haunt them as much anymore. 

“what was that one for?” eddie asks, eyes half lidded, the adoration in his voice loud across the quiet room. 

another kiss on another scar. “wanna give you some freckles. for your next life and for this one, too. so you know just how sweet on you I am-” kiss, “ -and was-” kiss, “- and forever will be.”

they won’t know for however many more years if it worked or not. but here in this lifetime, they have all the time in the world to try their damndest to make sure it does. in this lifetime, they don’t have to worry, because they know they’ll  find each other in the next one. 

[retquits]

a quick stardew valley ship meme for elliott & farmer dallas! they've been on my mind 💞

blank template under the cut 👇

(from what i researched, this template was originally made by a twt user named senaizuuchan, but their account unfortunately no longer exists 😔)

[rafeandonlyrafe]

orange peel theory (dark! and soft!rafe)

words: 1k (about 500 words each)

warnings: name calling, suggestive

orange peel theory: girlfriends ask their boyfriend to peel an orange for them, as a test to see if they are willing to help with small tasks that the girlfriend can do herself

dark

you quickly set your phone in a discreet spot, already recording as you move back to your chair, pretending to be reading your book as rafe walks in.

“what are you doing?” rafe questions, looking at you with concern, not sure if he’s ever seen you read before.

“nothing.” you shake your head, shutting the book and setting it down, glancing at your phone to make sure it is still recording. “how was work?”

“fucking tiring. dealing with idiots all day.” rafe spits the words out before toeing his shoes off and leaving them in the center of the room.

“im sorry.” you pout, standing up as rafe takes a seat on the edge of the bed. you move to stand in between his thighs, pressing a kiss to his lips. he sighs with satisfaction, wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs, rubbing over them, tucking his fingertips under your shorts to feel your bare skin.

“can you get me an orange rafe? i’m craving one.” you move away from him, setting back on your chair to make sure you are centered in the camera.

rafe gives you a confused look but nods, mainly because he also needs to get a glass of water for himself. he re-enters the room, tossing the orange towards you, which you catch easily.

“thanks.” you smile as rafe takes a sip of water and then sets it on the nightstand. “can you peel it for me though babe?”

“what?” he questions, moving to kneel between your legs, an amused look on his face. “my stupid little slut not able to peel it on her own? too much of a baby?” “rafey.” you whine as he takes the orange out of your hand, unpeeling it and tossing the peel into the trash. he pulls a piece and then hovers it in front of your mouth.

“open up whore, i know how much you love to do that.” rafe taunts you before you lean forward, taking the slice of orange into your mouth and pulling it out of his fingers, letting the citrusy taste flood your mouth.

“you are so mean, this was supposed to be for tiktok.” you point out your phone, making rafe turn to look at the screen opened and recording.

“what?”

“for tiktok, its some trend about asking your boyfriend to peel an orange for you to see if he will do small tasks for you, and you totally failed!” you whine, stamping your feet on the ground in annoyance.

“but i peeled the orange for you.” rafe says with confusion.

“while also calling me a stupid whore!” you stand up, grabbing your phone and stopping the recording, knowing you won’t put it on tiktok.

“are you not my dumb little slut?” rafe asks, standing and stepping close to you, hovering over with his intimidating height.

“i mean i am, but-”

“exactly.” rafe cuts you off, pressing his lips against yours as he backs you up towards the bed.

soft

you quickly set your phone in a discreet spot, already recording as you move back to your chair, pretending to be reading your book as rafe walks in.

“hey baby.” rafe leans down and gives you a kiss on the top of your head, which you quickly tilt up to have him press a second one to your lips.

“how was work?” you ask, setting your book to the side, glancing at your phone to make sure its still recording.

“exhausting.” rafe sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, making you pout.

“im sorry bubs.” you comment as he sits down on the bed to take his work shoes off. 

“no big deal. how was your day?” rafe asks.

“good…” you shrug. you usually go into more detail, and rafe knows it, so he sits quietly, waiting for you to continue. “but i’m actually really hungry.” you blurt out, figuring you shouldn’t delay any longer as you look at your phone again, lucky that rafe doesn’t follow your line of sight.

“what are you hungry for? we can order delivery.” rafe knows you like to cook, but he also doesn’t force it on you, leaving the option to get takeout open whenever you are tired or simply don’t feel like cooking.

“i actually just want an orange.” you shrug.

“thats not really food, darling, but okay.” rafe stands, setting his shoes on the rack next to the door before heading out of the bedroom towards the kitchen.

you can’t help smiling at the camera as you wait, covering your mouth as rafe reenters, already knowing that he’s going to pass the test.

“here ya go.” rafe hands you a bowl instead of an orange, making your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, before you take it and realize that the orange is already peeled and pulled apart, ready for you to enjoy.

“raaafe.” you whine.

“what?” rafe kneels down in front of your chair, placing his hands on your knees.

“i wanted a whole orange.” you complain, pouting your lower lip out as rafe looks at you in complete confusion.

“why, were you gonna eat the peel or something?” rafe laughs.

“no, its supposed to be a thing for tiktok.” you point towards your phone, which takes rafe a second to see from its hidden position. “you’re supposed to bring me an orange and i ask you to peel it to see if you’ll help me with a small task.”

“should i bring you back a whole orange then so you can ask?” rafe questions.

“no, i don’t even really want an orange to be honest.” you admit. rafe looks down into the bowl, taking a piece and putting it into his mouth, chewing it up. 

“what do you want then honey?”

“can you get me a banana?” you tilt your head to the side. rafe nods, grabbing the bowl from your lap before heading back to the kitchen.

you grab your phone and set it closer. “he’s just too good of a boyfriend.” you sigh as rafe comes back through the door, handing you a banana.

you smile at him in thanks, taking it out of his hand before he leans to press a kiss to your cheek, glancing at the camera, still recording when you realize how you can still test the theory.

“peel it for me babe?”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

[brainmuncher]

Danny would like to preface that this was entirely Vlad's fault. The fruitloop had made another harebrained scheme to kill off his dad and marry his mom… nothing new. What also wasn’t new was the three vultures in fez hats that he had to chase across the Nasty Burger’s parking lot after dismantling the whole plan. Vlad was a fruitloop after all so it only made sense that he’d do the same thing over and over and actually expect a different result.

What was new was the gun that Vlad had appeared with during the chase. He looked pissed that Danny had gotten away again and wasn’t aiming well. Unfortunately, Danny had Fenton luck so he eventually got hit by whatever the gun was firing. One of the vultures also got stuck in one of the stray blasts so he didn’t feel too bad about it.

It turns out it was shooting some sticky substance that was impossible to phase through. Vlad had walked over, said some eye roll worthy monologue, and cut the stuck vulture out with a concentrated ecto blast. He’d just been about to probably kidnap Danny for the millionth time when there was a screech of a van. A dozen or so GIW agents flooded the area and Vlad with the vultures made a run for it… leaving Danny behind. Because of the mysterious goo still holding him in place, he was an easy target for the GIW to “arrest”.

That's how he found himself thrown in the back of a white van in what could only be described as a dog cage, bundled with all sorts of restraints. His arms were pulled behind his back, his legs tied together, an actual muzzle on his face, and an extremely uncomfortable collar was on his neck. To put it lightly, Danny was not amused.

Before the doors had shut he heard the agents talking about transporting him to one of their facilities. Based on how much driving they had already done, it wasn’t a local one. Thankfully, Tucker and Sam have his ecto-signature, so they should be able to find him. It was just a matter of them getting a quick enough transport. They might end up calling Jazz to help which will be a huge pain later. No, he did not feel traumatized Jazz, this was more of an unfortunate field trip with the GIW than anything. Then again she was probably going to complain that he wasn’t taking things seriously again if he said that.

While thinking of ways he was going to try and escape his sister's overprotective meddling, the van came to a screeching halt. The stop was so sudden that he hit his head on the back of the cage. Grimacing at the injury, that was honestly pretty mild but he was feeling petty, he tried to listen to why they’d stopped. He could faintly hear the sounds of fighting outside the van. At first, he thought that he’d been found quicker than he thought, but then he heard the first gunshot.

An actual gunshot.

Now Danny knew that he wasn’t in Amity anymore, that point had long since passed, but hearing that was like a bucket of ice water. He’d only heard guns on TV or from those soldier guys at the parade before everything got replaced with ecto-guns. But something about hearing one again after so many years reminded him that he wasn’t home anymore. He didn’t even know where he was.

Despite having already tried to escape when they first put the restraints on, Danny once again began struggling to get out. The best start would be freeing his hands so he could at least see if he could find a weak point. He started to try and get his hands out in front of his chest but quickly found that it was easier said than done. Because of the way his hands were encapsulated in the cuffs and only ended at the lower wrist, he was finding it very hard to stretch far enough to get his arms underneath him. His shoulders ached as he pushed them past their limit, but another set of gunshots gave him the boost he needed to ignore it. Finally, he got his arms out from underneath him.

Before he could even think to celebrate, the doors to the van opened up. He reflexively used his arms to block the light from the outside. Once he blinked away the blinding change of light, he found himself blinking at a completely baffled person in a black ski mask.

“Johnny?” The person called out, turning away from Danny to presumably talk to someone outside the door. “I thought you said this was a truck full of money. There’s just some kid back here!”

Despite the danger he was in, Danny couldn’t help the indignation rise in him at being called a kid. He was sixteen for Pete's sake! He was firmly past the ‘kid’ stage and now in the ‘little shit’ age of his life. There’s a clear difference.

“What the hell are you talking about? This thing was scheduled to be guarded and transported just like any ol’ money transport. If you’re fucking with me-” The second person, who was wearing a blue ski mask, and man Danny didn’t know that they came in different colors how neat, paused after seeing him. “What the hell is this.”

Both of the men were just staring at Danny, who was now questioning just what was happening.

“You don’t think Flash set this up do you?” The one in the black mask asked, making the other one whirl to look at him like he asked if the moon was made of cheese.

“This is Keystone, not Gotham. Flash wouldn’t even consider something like this. This is something else entirely,” The person in the blue mask sighed, giving a sidelong look at Danny. “I say we bounce before Flash gets here. This one is a bust.”

The one in the black mask stopped the other one before they could get too far. Looking over their shoulder at Danny they gestured in his direction.

“Did you see how many guys they had guarding him? I think we could still make a good penny selling him,”

An uncomfortable feeling crawled up Danny’s spine. It was one that Vlad often made him feel when he was trying to get him to ‘denounce his father’. Objectified, Sam had once complained. She described that it was something she often felt whenever her parents forced her into some pink monstrosity. This somehow felt much more dangerous than when Vlad did it. Maybe it was the fact that Danny didn’t know what would happen, unlike with Vlad. Completely separated from his usual support and without a clue of what would happen, the threat loomed more fiercely than Danny was used to.

He started to subtly check the bands restricting his hands. There wasn’t any keyhole are keypad to open them, which meant there was probably a remote that one of the agents has… or had if they had been killed.

Suddenly one of the guys let out a startled cry that cut off. The other one disappeared, only for something to hit the truck a moment later.

“You’d think after taking over a van they wouldn’t just stand around in the street. It’s like they wanted to get caught,” A completely new voice joked.

With both guys gone, Danny could now clearly see the outside world. It was late, almost sunset outside. The buildings were completely unrecognizable. There were even some really tall buildings further in. He was in an actual city… Keystone if he remembers right.

“Let’s see what you were after,” The voice continues and steps in front of the open doors.

If not for the muzzle, Danny’s jaw would’ve dropped. This GIW field trip was turning into one hell of a time.

“Whoa hey, are you alright?” The Flash asked, already climbing inside the van to help.

At this point, this mind as well happen.

[shotmrmiller]

A/N: This was supposed to be a small thing cuz i inhale toxic ex's like air but here we are.

Thinking of a toxic ex!Simon that you broke up with almost a year ago. You wanted more than what he was willing to give you— unbelievable fuck aside— and you were just gonna get hurt in the long run. So you ended it.

What hurt the most was how he didn't even try to put up a fight. He just stood in front of you, as impassive as ever.

"If that's what you want." He shrugged.

And that was that. Ever since then, you've focused on yourself and your job. Meaning no dates, no get-togethers, nothing. Just work and lonely nights with a glass of wine. That he hadn't reached out once in all this time certainly rubbed salt on your wounds.

Now you're here. Out with a group of friends at a bar, after being borderline guilt-tripped into coming. A couple of mango martinis in and you're approached by a handsome fellow. Curly, brown locks and sun-kissed skin.

"Can I buy you another one, lass?"

"Sure. I'll never turn down a free drink."

He chuckles and his smooth laughter sends a shiver up your spine. As he turns away to get the bartender, you flick your eyes at your friends. They're giving you cheeky smiles and thumbs up.

Rolling your eyes with a smile, Mr. Handsome comes back with your drink before saddling up next to you on a bar stool.

"So what's a beautiful bird such as yourself doing all alone here?"

"I've been locked up for too long. Needed a change of scenery. And I gotta say, the view's quite nice."

He grabbed the back of your stool and dragged you a little closer to him, before tilting his head to the side— emerald green eyes half lidded and slightly covered by his curly hair.

"Is that right? I gotta say I also like what I'm seeing." Moving his hand from the padding of your stool to hook onto your hip, he says, "How about we move to a more private setting? Do you live nearby?"

He'd be the first guy since Simon that you've shown any interest in. You weren't ready for a relationship yet, but a distraction wouldn't hurt. And his staggering good looks certainly helped his case.

Nodding, you take out your phone from your purse to text your friends that have somehow disappeared when it vibrates, so you unlock your screen.

Take him home and I'm slitting his throat.

You flinch and look around wildly in a panic. Where is he?

"Hey, are you alright?"

Your phone vibrates again and you swallow hard before opening the text.

If his hand doesn't remove itself from your body, it'll be coming off of his.

You squeak before aggressively removing yourself from the stool, tripping over your heels. You weren't as sober as you'd like to be. The guy tries to stabilize you by grabbing your wrist but you jerk yourself away from his grip.

"I uh, I have somewhere to be." You toss on your jacket over your shoulders before running towards the front door and into the cool, rainy night.

Bzzt. Another text.

Good choice. I'd have hated ruining your nice purple comforter. It's one of my favorites.

You turn your body, doing a 360, eyes aimlessly looking for the ghost of your past life, when your phone rings. You frantically press the answer button.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

You hear him tsk. "I'd lower that tone of yours, love. I don't appreciate being spoken to like that," he says condescendingly.

Sighing, "I'm allowing you to continue this delusional 'break' of yours, but my patience runs thin. No one is allowed to touch you but me."

Your heart beats viciously at his audacity and tears start running down your cheeks. In fear, in relief or in anger, you don't know.

"Don't cry, doll. You should've known you'd always be mine. Now go home. I'll keep you safe."

Hanging up, you do as he says, wondering how long he's been keeping tabs on you— haunting you. You make a note to yourself to check your flat for cameras.

[kairoot]

✶ 𝓗𝑎𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 ．．박종성

⤷ 𝑖n which you enjoy the sunrise on your small farm with your two favorite people.

𝒑𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : husband!jay x 𝑝𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗇𝖺𝗇𝗍！𝑓．𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : fluff 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 : no 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : pet names, kisses, lmk if i missed anything !

( 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒏’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀 ) : inspired by @allurecile bc i loved their jake fic so much and this thought has been in my head for forever.. jay pls become a farmer. & pls leave reblogs and feedback, they are much appreciated !! ♡︎

birds chirped and the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, casting a gentle golden glow across the fields. dew-kissed blades of grass shimmered in the early morning light, while the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze added to the tranquil symphony.

the farm slowly awakened, with the silhouette of a barn emerging from the shadows and the distant silhouette of livestock beginning to stir, signaling the start of a new day.

you step out into the wide yard, yawning and stretching your arms out. you closed your eyes as the soft morning breeze swiped your cheek.

looking out over the large acres of your home, you spotted your husband crouched down near your crops. he wore his favorite flannel shirt, the sleeves rolled up as he cared for the growing vegetables in your garden. you smiled softly, admiring how hard he worked.

he looked up from what he was doing, spotting you on your home’s porch. his face broke into a wide smile, eyes lighting up warmth and affection. he set down his tools and took off his gloves as he stood up to walk over to you.

“good morning,” jay said, his voice gentle and filled with love.

“good morning,” you replied, feeling a surge of happiness at the sight of him.

he reached out and places a hand on your belly, where your baby is growing steadily each day. you were about seven months pregnant, and both you and the baby were the healthiest you had been, thanks to jay.

the gesture is tender, filled with a quiet joy that you both share. you cover his hand with yours, feeling the connection between the three of you.

"good," you assure him. "just a little sleepy."

he chuckles softly. "i was trying not to wake you."

"you didn't," you say, shaking your head. "i just wanted to come out and join you."

jay smiled once more, placing a kiss on your forehead and then your lips. he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

together, you walk through the garden, taking in the beauty of the morning. the sun is rising higher now, casting long shadows and illuminating the dewdrops on the leaves and grass. the air is filled with the earthy scent of soil and the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers.

as you stroll through the rows of vegetables and herbs, you talk about your plans for the day, the excitement of preparing for the baby's arrival, and the simple joys of life on the farm. jay listens intently, his hand never leaving yours, his presence a constant source of comfort and strength.

“she’s gonna love the flowers,” you smiled, squeezing his hand.

“and the animals,” he added, looking over at the barn. “they’ll love her.”

“daisy already does,” you giggled, remembering how one of your mares wouldn’t stop rubbing her nose against your belly when it started to grow.

jay nodded in agreement, smiling at the memory.

“yeah, but i’m not so sure about cocoa.” he said, reminding you of the younger horse who hadn’t been to fond of you ever since you became pregnant.

you sighed, “i don’t know why he’s been acting that way..”

jay rubbed your back comfortingly, “you know how much he loves you. he doesn’t want the attention on anyone else but him when it comes to you.”

you nodded, continuing your stroll with him.

“can we go see them?”

jay nodded, a thoughtful smile on his face. “of course, honey.”

you followed him toward the barn, the path lined with blooming wildflowers and the morning sun casting a warm glow over everything. as you approached the barn, the familiar sounds of the horses’ gentle nickers and the clatter of hooves greeted you.

jay opened the barn door, and you stepped inside, where the scent of hay and horses was comforting. daisy was the first to notice you, and she trotted over with a friendly whinny, her ears pricked up in greeting. you reached out to pet her, feeling her soft nose against your hand.

cocoa, on the other hand, was in the far corner, watching you with curious but cautious eyes. jay noticed this and gave you a reassuring glance before carefully approaching the younger horse.

“hey, cocoa,” jay said softly, extending a hand. “it’s okay. we’re just here to visit.”

you watched as jay gently bridled cocoa, his calm and steady presence seeming to ease the horse’s nerves. soon, cocoa’s stance relaxed, and he allowed you to give him a gentle pat.

as you were enjoying the interaction, you felt a familiar fluttering sensation in your belly—your baby was moving. you chuckled softly and placed a hand on your belly. jay looked over and smiled, sensing the moment of connection between you and the baby.

just then, daisy, who had been happily munching on some hay, suddenly jumped like she’d been zapped by a static shock. she let out a comical squeal and took a few surprised hops backward, her mane flying wildly.

“whoa!” you exclaimed, trying to stifle a laugh. “i think the baby gave her a good kick!”

jay looked over, trying to hold back his laughter as daisy continued to prance around with exaggerated steps, clearly puzzled by the sudden sensation. “looks like she’s not used to the baby’s morning gymnastics..”

you gently approached daisy, who was now eyeing you with a mix of curiosity and wariness. “hey, easy,” you cooed, patting her gently. “it’s just the baby saying hello.”

jay knelt beside daisy, trying to calm her with soothing words while trying to suppress his chuckles. “there’s no need to dance, daisy. it’s just our little one showing off.”

the mare seemed to slowly realize that there was no real threat and cautiously approached you again, her ears still flicking back and forth.

“i guess the baby’s kicks are a little more dramatic than we thought,” you said with a grin, reaching out to give daisy another reassuring pat.

“definitely,” jay agreed, still laughing softly. “she’ll get used to the routines soon enough.”

with daisy settling down and the morning sun climbing higher, you and jay spent a few more moments enjoying the peaceful barn. the day ahead seemed even brighter, filled with the promise of more light-hearted moments and shared laughter as you prepared for the new adventures with your growing family.

✿

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[koiifysh]

Crying on Nanami's chest because of all the family issues you have.

Growing up not being close to your family has had negative impact on your emotions. “I'm your family now,” he says as he gently wipes your tears away.

Your whole life you felt like a burden on your parents. Felt like a failure. Nanami does his best to ensure you that you are loved and that you are not a burden.

Never having that close sibling bond made you envious of others. You were always shut out by your sibling and felt overshadowed by their achievements. You knew your parents loved them more than you. They were the golden child.

You were the problem child.

But in Nanami's eyes you are so much more. You have so much potential. He loves you so much.

“Nanami..” Your voice trembled. The sound of your soft sobs pained him. “I hate myself sometimes.” You broke down on his chest. He held you close and tight, pressing a soft kiss on your head.

“I love you."

[officialabortive]

Katsuki is an emotional drunk. Just going out bar hopping with him and his friends, cold glass in hand while chatting. Denki had the oh so brilliant idea of taking ten shots in a row, and found fun in poking at bakugou's ego. Saying "there's no way you'd be able to pull that one off, lightweight."

Now there's nothing you can do to pry him from your side. Bakugou's stuck to you, never straying more than shoulders width away. The proximity is so narrow that you can smell the alcohol on his breath. Pouting with his eyes down whenever you talk to someone else. You see how his eyes widen so drastically when you get up and turn on your heel.

"I'm just going to the bathroom"

That didn't seem to help in the slightest. If anything, he looks more anxious than before.

"Can I come?"

"Uh, no. No I'll really be alright"

He's quick to tilt his head down so his bangs shield his face from your line of sight, but you already caught the droplets starting to cling to his lashes.

"My fiancé... dosen't like me anymore..."

His words were just weak mumbles spoken between sniffles. And as much as the sight of Katsuki so sad squeezes in your chest, this scenario is too perfect to not grasp.

You take the moment to turn to the others and silently mouth "play along" before putting a hand on his shoulder and lifting his chin.

"Fiancé? Oh bakugou I think you've had a little to much to drink. I'm not you're fiancé. Your fiancé is over there-"

You point directly toward kirishima, who only shows his surprise for a split moment before masking over it with a wide smile. Your hand gets curtly shoved off the blonde's shoulder with a hard glare, angrily telling you he doesn't want some random bitch like you touching him because he's already taken.

Kirishima watches through his phone camera as his "husband to be" hastily strode to be at his "lover's" side. A perfect angle for the camera to capture how he nuzzles his nose in kirishima's shoulder

You were sent some great footage in the morning

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