#THANK YOU FOR THIS ANON THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN

[spidybaby]

love begin again and barça boyz ❤️ plz i need a barça boyz asparents or coparenting plz plz plz 😭

Coparenting | Barca Boys

Summary: What is it like to coparent with them

A/N: I can't lie, I love this request 🥺❤️ also, thank you, Anon. I'm happy to know that you loved Begin Again.

Pedri

"Do you have your coloring book?" You ask, grabbing your son's backpack. He nods at your question. "What about your neon color pencils?"

"I have the draw I made for papi." He answers, showing you the drawing one more time.

You gran him, walking to the Gonzalez Lopez household. You text Rosy that you are outside, thar way you don't have to knock.

"Okay, mi amor." You put him down. "Listen to your dad, don't eat too much sugar and have fun."

He nods, giving you that smile that makes you think of Pedri. He was so much like Pedri. Even the way of talking, not only did he got the accent, but the expressions.

Rosy opens the door, greeting both of you. You share a quick hug with her. "Hola, guapo." She says, greeting the smiling boy.

"Mira abu," He says, showing her the drawing. "Para papi."

"It's so amazing! Your daddy is going to love it."

You kissed him one last time. "Have fun in Sevilla, amor." You say, sending him inside the house. "You guys are going to have fun this weekend." You smile at her.

Rosy hugs you. "We will." She says, taking the backpack from you. "Are you doing anything this weekend?"

You nod your head. "I'll go to the movies." You smile. "Oh, can you please give this to pedri? These are the tickets to the game our son has next month."

You considered yourself lucky, Pedri was coming out of the house with your kid on his arms.

"Mami!" You hear your baby yell. "Papi is getting me an ice cream."

"That so yummy, baby." You smile at him. "Hi, Pedri."

"Hola." He says, a very dry tone.

Rosy knows that if looks could kill, hers would kill her son. "Pedri, this is for you." She says, taking the envelope from your hands.

When Pedri found out about the baby, he was over the moon. You were his puppy love since school, first kiss, first time, first everything.

You also were his biggest fan, there was not one game day where you weren't ready to go support him.

To him, it was a big hit when you told him that it wasn't working anymore. You had a very hard postpartum time, as much as you tried to work on yourself, you couldn't.

You move out of his house, not wanting for him to be the one to leave, plus you don't need a five room house.

He offered to get you a house and to pay for everything you needed. He didn't wanted you to move back to Tenerife.

Once you got on your own feet, you told him to only take care of the baby. You didn't want to be a bother to him.

"What is this?" He asks, grabbing the envelope.

"The tickets for the game." You explain. "I texted you that I was going to bring them."

"Mhm" He humms, kissing his boy on the cheek. "Thanks. I'll be back, mom."

You move to the side, waving at your boy. You can't lie that it hurts you to see Pedri being so dry to you.

"I got tickets for both Fernandos and you, hope you can make it." You whisper, knowing your voice was going betray you. "Please, take care of him."

Rosy hugs you, she knows that you never wanted to hurt Pedri.

When Pedri came back home, his son was asleep on his arms. He was carrying two big bags that contained toys, as always he was the one spoiling him.

Rosy was waiting for him. Her husband and oldest son knew better than to be near when the bomb exploted on Pedri.

"We are back. Gosh, he's heavier by the day." Pedri laughs.

"Take him to his room and come back, we need to talk." His mother says, a very stern tone on her voice.

Pedri does as he's told, he doesn't want to mess with his mom. At least not when she's using that tone of voice.

He lays his boy down, turning the white noise machine that helps him sleep and closing the door with care.

"What are we having for dinner?" He asks.

Rosy knows she shouldn't, but she can't help to be involved in the middle.

"Pedro, you really need to start being a little more considerate with the way you talk to Y/n."

"Mom, not again." He scuffs. "Leave me and her to deal with this."

"I try, but I can't help it. You act as if you are bothered by her. Your son is young, and he doesn't notice this, but he will grow and see that you barely even acknowledge his mom. That's not okay."

"I try my best, okay?" He says, rolling his eyes. "Again, don't mind it, this is between us."

Rosy tries to answer back, but Pedri is already going upstairs to lay in bed with his kid.

You decide to play potato at home all weekend, turning on the match when the time hits. You might not be together, but you are still turning every single match he has.

The match was like a heart attack, a lot of emotions.

But the biggest emotion you had was when your phone began vibrating. It was Pedri requesting a FaceTime.

You don't think twice and press the green button. Your screening shows him and your son cheek to cheek, both with a big smile.

"Mami, we won."

You smile so hard your cheeks feel numb. "That so amazing!" You jump a little. "Tu papi es un campeón." You say. (Your daddy is a champion)

You don't notice it, but Pedri smile grows when you say that. "We are going to sleep as a celebration." Pedri says, laughing a little. "This one's curfew already passed like three hours ago."

"Today's allowed," you laugh, making him laugh.

You talk a little bit with your son and with Pedri as he bathes and changes your son to sleep. He tells you that the nanny of Lewas girls was the one who was going to be helping with your baby.

"Okay, time to sleep. I love you, amor. Please sleep." You say, pointing at your camera so your son could notice how serious you are.

"Adios, mami." He waves at you, sending you a kiss like you taught him.

"Thank you for calling me. I love you both."

"Love you too, mami." Pedri says, knowing it wasn't just because he had to answer back. "Very much."

Gavi

"Hey, drop it." You say to your daughter, who was taking her toys out of her already packed backpack. "You need to be ready to go to your dad's house."

"Papi let me play with my Barbie when he prepares my bag."

You roll your eyes, knowing that, of course, Gavi was letting her do whatever she wanted.

"Okay, I get it." You say, getting closer to her. "But mami really needs to go to class, so please don't do that right now." You begged.

She shrugs, taking the Barbie out and leaving the backpack alone. You roll your eyes, sometimes you do hate to be the strick one.

"Let's go." You say, grabbing her hand and backpack.

You were thankful that Pablo has training in the afternoon for the whole week. You sister was on finals week at school, so she needed to focus on her exams and couldn't help you with your daughter.

You didn't have much option but to ask Gavi to watch her while you go to class in the mornings. He was supposed to have her the late evenings and nights because of you taking that time to do homework and study.

"I love you very much." You say to her, giving her a kiss. "Please behave, doll."

"Te amo, mami." She smiles, hugging you.

You press Gavi's doorbell. Waiting for him to let you in.

"Mami, I'm hungry."

"I know, perdón I didn't give you breakfast." You pout. "Daddy told me he was making you something."

You hear the click of the door. Pablo opens it with a big smile on his face.

"Vente, muñeca." He says, making grabby hands to her. "I have your favorite cereal ready."

You want to ask, knowing that it was that same cereal you asked him not to buy. But you were a little too late for that.

"Thanks again, Pablo." You smile. "Doll, don't eat that much sugar." You warn her.

You ran to your class, leaving Gavi to be the responsable one.

"We have all day to ourselves." He says, giving his daughter a kiss on each cheek. "Want to watch a movie while we eat?"

She nodded, that was already their dinner tradition. Usually Pablo gets take out for her while he eats something plain like a salad or some nutritional stuff.

He enjoys spending time with his daughter, even when he doesn't even know what she's doing most of the time.

Part of him being the < Do whatever you want > type of dad, was that he finds himself busy with something else while his daughter entertains herself.

The other part is him just being a young dad. After all, he's 20.

Being a teen dad wasn't something he had in mind. His parents almost killed him, especially when they find out.

Even tho he is a very calm dad, who allows her to do a lot of things. You know that if you and him were together, you probably would be the same.

He grabs her hand, moving her to the play room he has for her. He sits down on the couch while she plays with her Barbie dolls.

He plays with her for a while, then watches a movie together. Feeling like the time went by perfectly.

"Papi, my friend likes barca too."

"Oh really?" He asks, smiling. "That girl has a very smart dad at home." He chuckles.

"Papi, my friend is a boy." She giggles.

Pablo raises an eyebrow. Sometimes he wonders if what she says is accurate, but lucky him, his daughter happens to be as well spoken as he was when he was a child.

That meant that when she said that she has a boy as a friend, she can't be mistaking the world.

"A boy? Tu no puedes tener amigos. Recuerda, los niños dan asco!" He frowns, not approving his baby girl having a boy around her. "Who is this boy?" (You can't have boy friends. Remember, boys are yucky)

"Mami has boy friends." She frowns too.

"Mami doesn't," He argues. "Plus, mommy is a grown-up. You are my baby, you can't have a boy as your friend."

"Auntie Aurora has." She argues back. She's definitely his daughter. "She kisses him. I want to kiss my boy friend too."

"No!" Pablo shouts. "That will make your teeth fall. You can't do that." He says, very strong tone.

It looks like all the stars aligned against him. His frown softens when he sees the tears on his daughter's eyes.

"Muñeca, no." He says, lifting her up. "I'm sorry, doll. I didn't mean to yell." He coos her in his arms.

Another sign for him to know that the luck wasn't on his side that morning was the doorbell.

He looks at his phone, time showing that it was, in fact, you the one ringing the doorbell. He can't help but feel like the one who's about to get yelled is him.

"Amor, mirame." He says, grabbing his daughter's face. "Papi didn't meant to yell, I'm sorry, doll." He kisses her face.

"No." She says, moving her face away from him. "I want mami."

His heart goes faster when he hears his phone, a text from you. Asking if he was home because you were outside.

"Amor, fine!" He says, desperately. "You can kiss all the boys you want, just stop crying."

But she won't reason, thanks to him she's scared to be even be near a boy. Fearing her teeth are going to be missing.

"The tooth fairy won't come if I kiss a boy." She cries even harder.

"Por la puta." Gavi whispers. "Muñeca, stop crying."

He can't keep hiding inside his home. You rang the doorbell again, making him frown. He leaves his girl on the coach, telling her to wait for him.

He rans downstairs, opening the door to you. "Hi, I thought you weren't here." You smile. "Where's our daughter?"

"That's the thing." He says out of breath. "I made her cry, and now she won't stop." He pouts. "Don't yell."

"Gavi!" You shout.

"Joder, don't yell." He shouts back. "I didn't mean to do it."

You shake your head, pushing him out of the way and walking inside the house. You already know she's in the play room.

"Amor, ven aqui." You say as soon as you see her. "What did you Daddy did to you?" You ask her, picking her up and hugging her.

"He says my tooth are falling." She cry into your neck.

You turn to the door, knowing Gavi is there.

"Teeth," He corrected, "And if it helps, she says that you have a lot of boy friends." He says, frowning. "Why?"

You open your mouth. "I don't." You fight back. "Did you make her cry about that?"

"No, she wanted to kiss a boy." He explains. "She can't do that until she's 40!"

"So you decide to yell and scare her?" You ask.

He looks at the floor, hearing his baby sob. "I didn't mean to." He whispers.

You soften your frown, you know that Gavi is young. He obviously is going to have this childish moments with her.

You have those moments with her. It's normal that you both do.

"Doll, you won't lose your teeth if you kiss a boy. What papi meant is that you are too young to do it, and you have to wait."

"Yes, wait till you are 40." Gavi whisper. "Amor, I'm sorry. You know I didn't mean to make you cry." He pouts. "Perdoname?"

Your now more calmed daughter looks at you, waiting for you to nod and to turn back to Gavi. "Go with papi." You smile, giving her a kiss.

"Te amo." He says, kissing her cheek. "But you can't kiss boys."

"Pablo!" You warn him.

Ferran

"Hi, Fer." You smile, opening the door.

"Why was our daughter outside?" He asks, mad expression on his face.

He has her on his arms, one hand grabbing the barca mini ball he gave her the day before.

"Oh, she was playing with Nelly." You explain. "Want some water?" You ask.

"Papi, down." Your daughter says.

He puts her down, giving her the ball. He closes the door and follows you to the kitchen. You hand him the glass of water.

"Gracias," He says. "You look beautiful." He smiles at you.

You smile back, knowing that he always says something like that. "I'm wearing a food stained shirt and joggers." You point at yourself. "I don't feel very beautiful."

"Well, you are." He smiles. "Now, care to answer my question?" He blinks a few times.

"I did. She was playing with Nelly, the neighbor's daughter."

"And I assume that Nelly's dad is the one who was playing with them." He says, a very deceptive tone. "Playing with her barca ball, that I got her, playing football with our daughter."

"Okay?" You say. "I feel like you are conflicted with that, care to explain?"

"Y/n, he's wearing a Madrid jersey." He says, the disgust in his tone was enough to make you roll your eyes. "And why is another dude playing football with my daughter? She's only allowed to play that with me!"

"Ferran, she was excited to show Mario her ball, and Nelly and her play every Wednesday."

"Who's Mario?" He raised an eyebrow. "Is he Nelly's dad?"

"Ferran, stop." You scuff. "Hey, Arantxa wants to get her into ballet, by the way." You say, walking over to your room.

"I need to shower. Please turn the oven off in fifteen minutes, and don't give her juice if she asks, I know you!"

Ferran took the opportunity to go to where his daughter is.

"Amor, come here." He says, opening his arms. "Is Mario your friend Nelly's dad?"

He knows it is crazy to ask his barely three year old daughter that question, but kids know a lot so he does.

She nods, smiling. "Nelly likes my ball."

"I'll get her one." He smiles. "What do you think about living closer to Auntie Arantxa?" He asks the little girl, getting closer to her and kissing her chubby cheek.

He lifts her, hugging her closer to him.

If he can say something about being a dad, is that he loves it. Having a girl is the best thing, he loves dressing up as a princess, with his tutu and his tiara.

He knows that he fucked up between you and him. Putting more effort into his work, spending less time at home, and the time he spent there was either on the gym or the sauna.

You got tired of begging him to just give you a day. Begging him for an hour of the day, to maybe help with his daughter, to be with you.

He got home tired, eating dinner and moving to the gym to tired himself even more. You try to ask him to be there for you, but he failed.

When you told him you were moving out, that you needed to put your child first. He felt betrayed.

He even fought you, calling you selfish for using your child as an excuse. Till this day, he regrets that.

You rented a two bedroom house. Perfect and small for you and your child. You work at the daycare your daughter goes to, so it's perfect. Your house is perfect for the two of you, and the location is even better for work.

Ferran tried to buy you a house, a big four bedroom home that was in the same neighborhood. You said no, angry at him and wanting to give him the space you thought he needed.

Now you notice that he spends more time at your house than anything. Barely even going back, just to check on his dogs and to play with them a little.

"Kiss." He says, making a duck lip to smooch his daughter. "Te amo." He smiles

"Te amo, papi."

You walk back into the kitchen after your very needed shower. Ferran was dancing to baby shark.

You smile at that, "I'm back." You announce. "Want to stay for dinner?"

"Obvio," He laughs. It was obvious you weren't getting him out of there until she was asleep. "Want some help?"

You shake your head, being able to prepare the plates while he dances with her.

"I'm getting her that cupra mini car that I saw on Instagram." He says to you, grabbing his plate and moving to the table. "We are going to match, amore."

"Can that stay at your house?" You ask. "Thanks to you, I don't have that much space anymore." You point at your very busy living room."

"About that," He whispers. "I got to tell you something." He says, scratching the back of his head.

"What did you do?" You narrow your eyes at him.

"Pedri told me it was a good idea." He excuses himself. "And the location is perfect. There's a big patio. Almost next to my sister."

"Ferran!" You sigh, not wanting to fight in front of your kid. "Why?"

"Because I miss you, and this place is so small. Sorry to say it." He lift his hands. "I fucked up, okay? I did! And now I get to see my daughter only after work, I'm dying."

He gets up, walking outside for a moment. You give him a few minutes, smiling at your daughter who's looking at you with curiosity.

"Don't kiss and tell, but Papi is not the smartest of them all." You whisper, making her laugh. "I'll be back, eat your dinner, mi amor."

He's taking his time, not wanting to go back while being this disappointed at himself.

"Ferran," You call him. "Can we talk?"

"What do I need to do to fix this?" He asks, desperate for an answer. "I want you guys back."

"Let's start by not buying anything before informing the other." You joke, making him chuckle. "I know this is an ugly situation for us, but we can't play bingo with our daughter. I need to make sure you changed because I don't feel like leaving again at midnight."

"You won't ever need that."

"Let's try to finish today. After she's in bed, we can talk." You say, grabbing his hand and walking inside. "Deal?" You ask, standing at the door.

"Deal." He smiles, taking a deep breath. "Can I sleep over?" He asks, trying his luck.

"No." You say, pulling him inside.

Fermin

"Do you want the blue shirt or the white one?" Fermin asks his son. "I like this one more, because that way we can match!"

"Bu," His son says, trying to say the word blue. "Bu, papi."

Fermin smiles, pulling the shirt over his head. "Look at you," He says, lifting him and walking over to the mirror. "We match!"

He was spending the evening with his son. You needed to study for this very important test that was taking place during the evening. He took the time to spend the whole day with him.

"I'm sending a picture to your Gammy." He smile. "Say hi, grandma." He smiles, snapping a picture of the two of them.

"Mamá." Your son says after the picture is taken.

Something Fermin knows is that he's not used to being away from you that much. He might go with an hour more than usual, maybe two even, but the whole day without you? No way.

"Mami is studying, buddy." Fermin explains. "That's why you and I are going to go get ice cream!"

Fermin loves to spend time with his son, it was the highlight of his day. Of his life better say. He enjoys it too much.

He feels bad that he doesn't get to spend as much time as he would want, mostly because he didn't share a house with you and because his job has kept him bussy.

"Mami." Your son pouts.

He wants you too, but sadly for him, he fucked up. So now he doesn't have you as he wanted.

"We can call her." He says, taking his phone and dialing your number.

You answer to FaceTime. Smiling when you see your baby's face. "Hola, mi vida."

"Mami, bu!" He claps.

"Blue!" You repeat. "Love that you are matching."

"We are going for ice cream." Fermin says, informing you of the plans. "Sorry to interrupt you, but he's a mama's boy and he can't live without you."

You pout. "I love you, amorcito." You smile. "As soon as I'm done with this, I'll go pick you up and we will cuddle while watching coco."

Fermin feels jealous, he wants to cuddle and watch coco too. He wants to be able to be there and spend time with the two of you.

You can describe Fermin as a perfect dad. Even when people say that there's not such a thing. Well, there is. Fermin López is that thing.

He helps whenever you need him to help, he stepped up when you need him to, he cleans, he cooks, he knows how to change diapers, he knows how to deal with a cold or the flue, he knows how to deal with tantrums.

He's the perfect dad.

But he wasn't the perfect boyfriend. That's where he failed, and you don't blame him, you weren't the perfect girlfriend either.

Your relationship ended before the baby came. You try your best to hide from Fermin that you were pregnant.

You were afraid that his career was going to suffer. You try your best to hide it from your friend in common.

The thing you forgot was that he knew where you lived, so when he came back to Sevilla for vacations, he went straight to your house.

You opened the door without checking who it was, big mistake you thought at the moment.

He asked the obvious question. "Is it mine?"

After that, he tried to do everything he could to be there for you. Even encourage you to move to Barcelona.

He got you a place to live, mostly because you didn't want to go back together, feeling that he wanted to do all this because of the baby.

He helps you money wise with the baby, even when you mention that your parents can help you and that you will be fine.

"Thank you, Papi." You smile at Fermin as soon as he is on frame. "I really can't do this without you." You pout, feeling emotional.

"I love you, mami." He smiles. "Go get that test done, we love you."

You send them a kiss, hanging up the call.

"Okay, amorcito." He says to his baby. "Want to go get ice cream?"

He smiles when the boy in his arms starts to clap his hands. "Yeah, let's go!"

The evening was all fun and laughs. He loves spending time with his little one. He makes sure to cook something for you.

Just in time, the doorbell rang. He takes his son from the safe mini sofa he bought for him. He walks to the door with him, making him laugh by asking him if he is ready yo eat.

"Hola!" You say, smiling at them. "Amor, ven acá." You grab the baby from his arms. "Hola, Fer." You smile, hugging him. "Sorry, I forgot the keys."

Yes, he gave you a copy of his house keys.

"I made dinner." He smiles, kissing your forehead. "Come here." He grabs your hand, walking with you inside.

"Did you have fun?" You ask your son. "Did papi and you have fun today? Did you eat a lot of ice cream?"

"Papi." He smiles, looking over at Fermin.

"Send a kiss to papi!" You say, excited to show Fermin what your baby learned. "Kiss, muak muak."

He does this thing, where he places his hand on his mouth and makes a kiss sound as he puts his hand away.

"Amor!" Fermin smiles happy. "Do that again." He does. You love to see the happy face and the big smile on Fermin's face. "One more time." He says.

"Muak." Your baby says, throwing a kiss at Fermin.

Fer loves having you over, he would love to have you living with him. Maybe in the future, you said once.

He can't wait for that to happen.

✨️✨️✨️

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl

[noorpersona]

Office hook up with kuroo 🤤

Hi Anon!! Thank you so much for sending in this request — it was genuinely so much fun to write! 😭

Enjoy<333

--

Anon Ask: Kuroo (NSFW)

The office was eerily quiet, save for the low, steady hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. Rows of desks stretched out in neat, darkened lines, papers stacked, chairs pushed in, computer monitors black and still. The occasional ticking sound from the wall clock echoed faintly in the wide, open space, amplifying just how empty it really was.

You pushed open the door to Kuroo’s private office, balancing two takeout bags in your hands like a peace offering.

"Dinner's here, workaholic," you called, voice cutting through the stillness.

Inside, Kuroo looked up from behind his desk. He was hunched over some paperwork, hair even messier than usual—wild tufts sticking up from where he'd clearly dragged his fingers through it. His tie hung loose around his neck, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. Dark shadows smudged under his golden eyes, but when he spotted you standing there, his whole face shifted.

The tension in his shoulders eased. The corner of his mouth curved into a slow, lazy smile.

You made your way inside, carefully setting the bags down on the edge of his desk, nudging aside a stack of folders to make room. The rich, savory scent of your order wafted up between you, warm and inviting.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching out long legs under the desk, lacing his fingers behind his head with a low, satisfied groan. His eyes never left you—watching you with a smoldering kind of patience.

"Wow, must be my lucky night," he said, voice a rough, playful rumble.

You rolled your eyes as you started unpacking the food. "Yes, bask in my generosity. You owe me dinner and maybe dessert."

He chuckled under his breath, pushing up from his chair with a heavy, purposeful kind of movement. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, veins prominent along his forearms. He looked both exhausted and predatory—and somehow, devastatingly good.

He walked around the desk slowly, almost leisurely, but there was a weight to it. A coil of energy you could feel tightening between you with each step.

"You bringing me dinner... wearing that?" His gaze skimmed shamelessly over you, lingering at your legs, the snug fit of your jacket. "Dangerous."

You huffed, smoothing down your coat self-consciously. "Calm down, corporate Romeo. It’s just jeans and a jacket."

He smirked, dipping his head slightly as he stepped closer, voice dropping to a rough whisper. "Still dangerous."

You shook your head, scoffing lightly, but your pulse betrayed you, skipping when he closed the last of the distance. His presence was overwhelming—the subtle scent of his cologne, the heat radiating off his skin.

He stopped just short of touching you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His fingers flexed slightly at his sides, like he was barely holding himself back.

"You know what I've always wanted to do?" he said, voice low and rough.

You raised an eyebrow, shooting him a dry look as you finished unpacking the containers. "Please don't say ‘work overtime,’ because I'm not into that."

Kuroo chuckled, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. He leaned down slightly, close enough that you felt his breath against your ear.

"Always thought about bending you over my desk," he murmured. "Right here. After hours. When no one's around to hear you."

You blinked at him, deadpan. "You're disgusting."

But your body—traitorous as ever—leaned in, just a little. Your pulse kicked up, a warmth blooming low in your stomach.

"You love it," he teased, fingers brushing lightly against your waist, the touch barely there but searing.

You scoffed, stepping back half a pace, bumping lightly into the desk. "And here I thought you were a professional, Kuroo-san."

"I am professional. I'm professionally fantasizing about you," he quipped, tilting his head, that lazy grin deepening.

You fought the smile tugging at your lips, trying to maintain the upper hand, but it was useless. Especially when he stepped closer again, boxing you in, the edge of the desk biting into the backs of your thighs.

"Tetsu, seriously," you said, palms flattening against his chest when he closed the distance, feeling the steady thump of his heart under your touch. "I literally just brought you food."

"Exactly," he said simply, hands skimming up your sides, slow and coaxing. His thumb traced lazy, hypnotic circles against your hipbone. "And now I'm starving for something else."

"You're impossible," you muttered, even as your hands fisted weakly in his shirt.

"And you're stalling," he murmured back, his voice thick, heated.

You opened your mouth—but nothing came out.

Instead, you grabbed a handful of his loosened tie and yanked him down into a kiss, slow and burning, full of everything you hadn't said.

The takeout bags hit the floor with a muffled thud.

Kuroo groaned low in his throat, one hand sliding up your thigh, hitching your leg around his waist as he walked you back, pressing you flush against the edge of the desk.

You parted your lips under his without hesitation now, tugging him impossibly closer, deepening the kiss until your heads spun.

"Fuck, look at you," he rasped, breaking the kiss just long enough to tug your coat down your arms and toss it somewhere unseen. "So fucking pretty for me."

You whined when his hands found the hem of your jeans, pushing it down your hips with slow, deliberate pressure.

He lifted you onto the desk, scattering papers and pens with zero care. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively, your body already humming in anticipation.

The kiss broke again when he mouthed down your throat, rough and reverent all at once. Your head fell back with a soft, shuddering breath, heart hammering so hard it echoed in your ears.

"Still think I'm disgusting?" he teased against your skin, voice dark and amused.

"Absolutely," you managed, breathless. *"Now shut up and fuck me, Kuroo."

His answering growl vibrated against your throat.

And then he was undoing his belt with one hand, the other keeping you pinned exactly where he wanted you—laid out across his desk, messy, panting, and entirely his.

The desk beneath you creaked softly as Kuroo pressed your front down against the cool surface, one hand splayed firmly between your shoulder blades, keeping you there. His body loomed behind you, solid and hot, while he dragged his other hand down the curve of your spine, slow and possessive.

Your jeans were tugged halfway down your thighs, tangled around your knees. His fingers brushed teasingly over the waistband of your underwear, snapping it lightly before hooking them and sliding them down too, baring you completely to him.

You squirmed under his touch, hips canting back instinctively, seeking more.

“You're still overdressed,” he muttered, voice rough as he leaned over you, his breath hot against the shell of your ear.

You barely managed a breathless huff before his fingers slid between your thighs, finding you slick and ready. He groaned low in his chest.

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasped. “Already so fucking wet.”

You whimpered when he teased your entrance with two fingers, circling lazily but never giving you the pressure you craved.

“Tetsu,” you gasped, writhing under him.

He finally pushed in—one thick finger first, curling expertly, then another, scissoring them slowly to open you up. The stretch was delicious, just shy of overwhelming.

Your forehead rested against the cool desk, your fingers curling against the smooth surface.

Kuroo’s free hand stroked down your back, soothing, grounding you as he worked you open, coaxing soft, broken sounds from your lips.

When he withdrew his fingers, you whimpered at the loss—but then you heard the sound of his belt unfastening, the metallic clink sharp in the heavy silence of the office.

You twisted your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of your eye—his flushed face, the way he pumped himself slowly, slicking his cock with your wetness still clinging to his fingers.

He lined himself up behind you, the head of his cock dragging through your folds in a slow, maddening tease.

“Say you want it,” he murmured.

“I want it- I want it please,” you choked out, voice shaky with need.

He didn’t make you wait.

With one steady thrust, he pushed into you, the stretch stealing the air from your lungs. He filled you completely, bottoming out with a low, wrecked groan.

He stilled for a moment, both hands braced on your hips, thumbs pressing into your skin.

“You feel…” he muttered, voice ragged. “You feel so fucking good.”

You nodded weakly, pushing back against him, desperate for him to move.

He took the hint.

He pulled back slowly, almost all the way out, before thrusting back in with enough force to jolt your body forward on the desk. Papers fluttered to the floor, but neither of you cared.

Kuroo found a brutal rhythm, each snap of his hips making the desk creak under the force of it. His tie swung loose from his collar, occasionally brushing against your lower back with each rough thrust.

The sounds—skin slapping, your broken gasps, his low, breathless curses—echoed obscenely in the otherwise empty office.

“Mine,” he growled, fucking into you harder now, faster, one hand sliding up your back to fist gently in your hair, tugging your head back so he could kiss the nape of your neck, teeth grazing your skin.

“Yours,” you gasped, knuckles white where you gripped the desk.

The coil in your stomach tightened impossibly fast, your orgasm building with every relentless drive of his hips.

“Come for me,” he panted against your ear. “Let me feel you.”

A few more thrusts and you shattered—clenching around him, crying out his name in a broken, wrecked moan. Your body trembled under him, your release washing over you in thick, hot waves.

He fucked you through it, groaning low in his throat at the way you squeezed him so tight it bordered on painful.

With a final, stuttering thrust, he came hard, spilling inside you with a rough curse, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he rode out the aftershocks.

For a long moment, the only sounds were your mingled breathing, the soft rustle of clothes, and the distant rain tapping against the windows.

Kuroo pressed a lazy kiss between your shoulder blades, hands smoothing down your sides in a rare, tender gesture.

“Best… dinner pickup… ever,” he panted against your skin.

You let out a breathless laugh, still half folded over the desk, utterly wrecked.

“You’re… buying dessert,” you managed, voice hoarse.

He chuckled, pulling your jeans up slowly, helping you dress with lingering touches.

“Anything you want, babe,” he said, kissing the back of your neck again, utterly unbothered by the mess around you—completely consumed by you, and only you.

[sturniolohohoho]

I. LOVE. MY. MOOTS

this is a long overdue appreciation post for all my favourite people!! I'm genuinely so blessed that I'm on this platform with you guys, and It might seem like I'm making it way more deep than it is, but honestly everything here has made me so much happier!

I never thought this was a part of my life that I was missing so much before, but having an online community and friends is so amazing. Even though we're all here together to simp over these mid white boys and read/write fanfics to feed out delusions, it's way more than just that!

ANYWAYS HERE WE GO!!!

@mattsglassezx you were my first moot here, and I'm so glad you literally just came back to tumblr <33. Ur SO sweet and SO gorgeous and you have great fic ideas!

@vanteguccir LELE!! AAGHHHH UR THE BEST EVER!! You give so much good life advice and you're so put together as a person. You're genuinely the best and i love whenever you come online in the gc and always think my stupid ahh jokes are funny <33 You're also such a name sayer like you always address me by viv and it's so sweet

@chrisspussygang SO supportive, you're writing a BOMB series and you're so funny! i can't believe we were within a couple kilometres of each other at some point. You get so delirious when it's late and its so funny, luv u!!!

@ellieluvssturniolos GORG GORG GORG GORG GORG you and your style is all i wanna be. You're so pretty and you also have an AMAZING edit collection (send me more pls pls pls) i have so much more I wanna say but its not coming to mind rn, but ILY!!

@bambisturns LOVE your writing, LOVE you, you're so freaking sweet and awesome and i also love talking to u <3 i heard you've been getting hate anons and i just wanted to say ill gouge their throats open for u! <333

@nottodaysari we don't talk that much on tumblr at all but you're so funny and gorgeous and i think you had amazing curls but I cant remember now. anyways thanks for letting me rant about men that one time, you're so sweet <33

@bernardsbendystraws you're so nice and funny and your writing is the BOMB fr. you say the most unhinged and random shit and you're also so prettyyyy!

@chrismakesmewet SUPPORTIVE AHH moot ily! ur my fav "anon" emoji fr. you always like my posts even if im just spewing random shit, luv u!!!!

@kenah-sturniolo you're my favourite australian and i love your series so far. i feel a magnetic urge to become better friends with you

@tits4matt UR THE SWEETEST PIE!!! you're gorgina and so funny on insta, you're always active whenever I feel like just yapping in the gc <3

@sturns-mermaid MARIIIIIIIIIIIIII ILY!! You're really sweet and fun and you and sunshine are always on some random shit lmaoo. you've also god BOMBASTIC writing. (add me to ur taglist pleasee <3)

@stvrniolostan my FAV editor you're so talented aaaaa!! i lowkey just found your tumblr cause i only knew you from insta but YESSSS

@amestulips i want to get to know you betterrr but you're my favourite swifty fr. im so excited for mechanic matt thoughhh

@riggysworld ik we've never actually talked but TYSM for being my number one supporter for my series. it's actually insane that you manage to like it not 10 seconds after i post every part. i'm literally doing this series for the same 5 people that always comment so shout to yall, you know who u are <33

Honourable mentions to my FAVOURITE and talented writers on this platform: @y3sterdaysproblem @evie-sturns @oopsiedaisydeer @strnilolover @chriscantwhisper

WOOF WOOF THAT'S IT!!! thank you everyone and i love you guys smm. i never thought writing fanfics would end me up with so many friends but YAYYY!

...so sleep over when?

also kinda sidenote but TYY for 350 followers!!

dividersss: @enchanthings

btw i'm sure i missed some close moots and i'm SO SO sorry if i did, just lmk and i'll add you (after killing myself of sadness bc i forgot u!)

[urhoneycombwitch]

have we established how the getting together happened with neighbors?

like we've established that r is pretty guarded and has high standards and there a cat and mouse chase, but is there a specific moment where r finally lets him in, both literally into their space and emotionally into their life? is it an actual moment where R is aware of it and makes the decision, or more like they're in the heat of conversation in the hallway and R is unlocking their door without thinking, leading him in and it's not until they've been tucked up on the couch for a while talking that it's like oh, we're here and it's comfortable and nice?

okay here's my pitch that may be a full fic one day but i'll just brain dump for now!! thank you sm anon and thanks ya’ll for eating this version of Eddie up we’re having so much fun wheeeee 

cw: for Reader- she/they pronouns, fear of dogs (briefly), androgynous dressing, nonspecific tattoos mention, plus-sized/fat; for Eddie- dog dad Eddie, also husky/fat Eddie 🤤, he’s a bit of a soft!dom in this; for Both: instances of getting drunk and high, fade-to black sex, implied sex while intoxicated. mdni 18+

wc: 1k

neighbor!eddie mlist

___

how i see it happening is- neighbor!R doesn't go out of her way to make friends. not unkind by any means, but just loyal to a few close people and that's enough for now. not shy when with said friends, but reserved around people they don't know.

R is an artsy, into-music, plants on the windowsill type of vibe: but they got a boring business 9-5 (just to pay the bills) that keeps them in formal attire every time they leave the house. dress slacks, blouses, a tie sometimes to shake it up.

behind closed doors, you’re freer of expression. long sleeves that normally cover your tattoos are shed, you sing and sway to old records, accessorize and breathe. but your neighbor doesn’t get to see that side of you.

husky!neighbor!Eddie is a farm-raised boy in the city world. grows his own weed on the back windowsill, but not for dealing, just for himself and some choice bandmates. gets around doing mechanic repairs and helping out at uncle wayne’s farm during harvest season. his pride and joy is Franklin, a sweet pitbull adopted from a local rescue.

you and him have met a few times- once when you moved in, and a few times in the hall since that day. Eddie gave you his number as a friendly, neighborly-gesture, and also, whatever, he was hitting on you by helping carry your heavier boxes. sue him.

he’s been kind at every interaction, offering a friendly wave across the hall with the hand that isn’t holding Franklin’s leash, but you always seem in a hurry. a tight smile or a nod is your go-to, and paired with that and the clothes vibe, Eddie’s not sure what to think. 

but what he doesn't know is you're actually just really, really scared of dogs.

it was a bad ex-boyfriend who kept a mean one. and you know it wasn't the dog's fault- an otherwise beautiful husky- but after living with what felt like a wild animal in your previous house, you’ve been put off big dogs completely.

one morning Eddie’s annoyed to get a call at 6am but it’s you on the other end sounding panicked, saying that you’ve got Franklin by the main sidewalk after you saw him running towards the road. 

Eddie curses and then apologizes a lot and says to stay on the phone with him, it’s okay, he’s gonna be down there in a flash. and talks to you over the phone so you don’t have a meltdown about being near a big dog (‘cuz he’s figured it out by now, perceptive king!!) 

he scrambles into some sweats and throws some sneakers onto bare feet and scrambles out the door (with a busted lock that he kept meaning to fix, damn that smartass dog for getting his weak point argh foiled again) and gets down to you in records time.

it’s still early enough that there’s barely anyone else in the parking lot, and you’re in bare feet and sleep shorts and a t-shirt and oh my god Eddie’s staring too much and he knows it and he’s gotta pull it together so he lunges forward and takes Frankie’s collar from your hand (which you were holding as far away from your body as possible, Franklin none the wiser, tongue lolling out in his giant mouth looking very pleased with himself)

and Eddie rolls his palm around on Frankie’s soft black bicycle seat shaped head and says, lovingly, “idiot. what am I gonna do with you?” and sees some of the tension leave your shoulders when you see that no one’s gonna start yelling. 

and then he spots the local punk band logo on your t-shirt and strikes up conversation. you see that he’s only in sweatpants and decide to come over to his for coffee 🙂 it’s early in the morning and you just rescued his dog from getting hit and you haven’t had the chance for breakfast before work yet 🙂 so many valid reasons!!!

so you strike up a friendship from there. there are some shared block parties, a few mutual friend hangouts (you know Robin from previous art classes at the local CC, Eddie knows Steve who’s chill now from high school: and Robin and Steve get along swimmingly), he’s come over for yours once for dinner, pretty casual stuff so far.

then one night you’re home from the bar with Robin (yeah whatever Eddie was waiting up to hear your footsteps across the hall to make sure you got in safe <3 <3) and he hears your music turned up loud.

catches a glimpse of you through the hallway facing windows (bless the shitty design optics of this place) you’re looking pretty smashed, dancing around a bit.

Eddie smiles to himself, cleans up his kitchen for the night, wonders if you’ve eaten. and then sends you a text despite his higher self screaming at him to not.

hey. drink a glass of water and get some sleep, okay?

you text back within a minute. 

:( can i caame se frank ???/

and now you’re sinking onto his floor, cooing over this dog you used to be so scared of. Franklin is a doll and rolls over, tail thumping on the kitchen linoleum, overjoyed to see you again. you slide a hand across the plane of Frankie’s chest and sigh happily.

Eddie pulls you up off the floor eventually (he’s worried about your knees) and plants you on his couch. brings you a tall glass of water and sits on the furthest cushion.

but you make use of the space. take a sip of water to mollify him. budge your way up onto his cushion, and then partly his leg, and then you’re leaning in- 

and Eddie’s hands are on your shoulders, gentle but firm, calling you sweetheart while letting you down easy. he wants to, really bad, he assures, just not when you’re this fucked up.

you shrug. plant your hands on his chest as you do it. and you’re like, well, you’ve surely got whiskey and weed in this apartment. why don’t you catch up? and then we’ll be even. 😀

and Eddie really can’t argue with that. the math tracks with him.

you think the sex will be kind of sloppy, maybe a one-time thing to get out of your system. it’s not. it’s kind of the best you’ve ever had.

[firstkanaphans]

wandee goodday anon reporting back, i enjoyed it so very much. loved the characters, loved the dynamics, wanted to punch dr ter in the nose a few times. i loved that there wasn't a episode 11 of doom?? and how generally light and colourful the show is, both in mood and visually especially as i watched never let me go (phuwin's kissing is my enemy but that's off topic) just before lmao, the contrast was something else.

i also was delighted to have a side couple that a) was established from the start and b) only had drama totally unrelated to their relationship and stayed wholesome and loving each other the whole time, cher bestest boyfriend/brother in law/son in law/gym manager 💕💕.

the whole one night stand to fwb to fake dating thing in 2.5 episodes was hilarious and so was the fake dating to swimming in denial for about the whole rest of the show taking about one or two episodes, thank god yak got clarity soon enough because i would've tried to punch him too but he ended up having the patience of an angel. i was highly entertained that being seen in a same sex relationship as a public figure was a problem for him that lasted a whole 5 minutes too.

dee is the loveliest bean and i love a character who stands their ground when the person who rejected them just magically realises their feelings when a new love interest appears, like how many times was ter basically told to get lost ffs.

oh right i also love a forgiving parents for things that are actually forgivable moment because i've had enough of the shittiest parents of the decade in drama-land crying over their faults for a minute and the kids are like yknow what it's okay i don't mind about the trauma you gave me anymore ✌️🤪

had fun spotting a few places from other shows (golf's gay café, vivi's place in love sea -love what they did to it btw, dee's place might be one of my favourite fiction apartments-, boston's pace) and had even more fun laughing at emi's hair extensions, who did that to my girl?? and that ~american~ champion whatshisname's thick ass french accent.

all in all, 10/10 show, greatinn are wonderful together, might rewatch in the future, can't wait for the memoir of rati heartbreak (i was already looking forward to it bc of actual plot reasons but now that i've seen the guys in it can act good and kiss pretty, it's all bonus points).

I'm so glad you liked it! Sorry it took so long for me to respond to this. I was actually in the process of re-watching Wandee Goodday myself and wanted to finish it before I answered this ask. It's such a good show and stands up very well even on a rewatch.

Since you watched after the fact, you avoided most of the fandom drama, but when I tell you people hated this show and yet continued watching week after week just to shit on it. It was one of my more bizarre fandom experiences for sure. Like I get why there was drama surrounding Only Friends. I don't get why there were such a visceral reaction to a cute little romcom.

The highlights for me were the incorporation of casual sex into the narrative in a way I felt was realistic and, of course, OyeiCher who still have my whole heart. Emi's extensions were an absolute travesty.

One thing I did notice on my rewatch which I missed the first time through is that Yak often switches his polite particle to "ka" when talking to Dee, which is very soft and flirtatious. The reason it stood out to me is that I've noticed Great does this with Inn too and I wonder if it was his choice to change the dialogue rather than something that was in the script?

Memoir of Rati only has 2 or 3 Qs left, so I'm hoping we will get it by June. I have a lot of faith in this screenwriter and am very excited to see GreatInn again because I miss them terribly 😭

[discountlittlebro]

hi it's me again. thinking about older brother saving up to buy you a collar for your birthday. you have your party, and your cake, and once all the fun's over, your older brother pulls you into his room (where middle sib is waiting), and then he hands you a gift bag. you open it, and he says that he knew today would be a lot for you with so many people around and so much stuff happening and everything, so he and middle sib wanted to give you a chance to just be a puppy for a little bit. he clips the collar around your neck, making sure it's not too tight, and then he and middle sib take care of you for a couple hours, letting you just be their sweet pup, while they talk and play games or whatever. you just sit with them and get pets and belly rubs, until you fall asleep in your older brother's bed, curled up between your siblings like the good puppy you are. -only child anon (i hope you don't mind my long-winded fantasies!!)

This is so cute ahhhh I love long winded fantasies thank you for sharing!!

[vidavalor]

hi! back with (yet another) word nerdy question. (I’ve brought cookies this time!) in the 1941 episodes, Crowley refers to the church as “consecrated ground” but furfur calls it “hallowed ground”, i was wondering what your thoughts on that were? always love reading your metas!

Hi there, @the-ineffable-parker 💕 Thank you muchly & what a very fun topic! Alright, throw on some Hozier 😂 so we can talk about what the story's ongoing discussion about how the show's discussion of what constitutes consecrated ground, including this consecrated vs. hallowed contrast, might have to say about themes around autonomy and authority.

I have also had more than one anon send me a request for stuff on consecrated ground so *radio voice* this one also goes out to all you lovelies who were not only nice enough to ask but who gave me an excuse to look at Aziraphale-as-Crowley in the bathtub during an otherwise kind of irritating week. 😂

TW: Mentions of Heaven & Hell violating bodily autonomy.

Consecrated vs. hallowed is an example of offering the audience a pair of near-synonyms for the purpose of having a conversation about the themes that come up when looking at the differences between these words. There are others like this in Good Omens, too:

Welfare vs. quality of life. Magician vs. conjurer. Job vs. profession. Seller vs. purveyor. Father vs. dad. Master vs. boss. The historical mister vs. doctor debate. Lift vs. elevator, etc..

So, what of consecrated vs. hallowed?

Technically, both of these words mean that which is considered to have been made holy through some sort of rite or ceremony. You wouldn't use them interchangeably, though, because one of the words-- hallowed-- has evolved to also have a secular meaning, whereas consecrated has remained a word that-- unless you're writing something blasphemously sexy 😉-- would still just be used exclusively to describe something faith-based.

Hallowed ground can be theatres and libraries and historic buildings and the like but, when we're talking about physical locations, consecrated ground is still considered just places of worship and burial sites and other religious places.

Hallowed is an example of a secular evolution of a word in a direction away from its original, religious meaning. There are many that have gone that route and also many that have been stolen by religious groups. Good Omens focuses attention on quite a few words in these crosshairs, like passion, profession, joy, and halo. Contrasting hallowed with consecrated allows the story to have a discussion about how linguistic evolution away from religion reflects many, if not all, humans also evolving away from it.

The word hallow is a pretty-much-obsolete-unless-you're-writing-a-press-release-for-The-Vatican word for a saint, which is how it came to mean that which is holy. This is also the etymology of why we call the holiday at the end of October 'Halloween', from its earlier name of All Saints' Eve.

Halloween is pretty much the most perfect evolution away from anything once at least somewhat related to Christianity that has ever existed 😂 and the evolution of hallowed is much the same so it doesn't surprise me that a demon like Furfur would prefer to use the word hallowed over the word consecrated. The demons were all ex-communicated from Heaven so they're all for humans blasphemously evolving religious words away from those types of meaning.

This is where we have to get into the big question that bringing up these words in the first place asks of the audience, though, which is:

Who gets to say what is holy?

Good Omens' theme of autonomy is freedom is, unsurprisingly, interwoven with its theme of recognizing your own authority to author your own life.

We sometimes might think that there is a higher authority who can answer things for us-- someone more powerful than ourselves. We might be prone to thinking that fallible human beings who are seen by some as holy should be granted authority by us when it comes to influencing our thoughts and actions. In thinking this, we're selling ourselves short and allowing others control over us. It impacts our ability to self-determine and impedes our freedom and our health. The effects of this are so dangerous that it puts our lives at risk.

There are people, often some men, who will say that there is a God who has granted them the power to speak for them. That their word is God and that if you aren't following their word, you aren't following the word of God, and that means you are evil. You are a demon. You are a heretic. You are anathema. You are a sinner and will be forever damned. And they will use this power they claim comes from God to maintain their own power and while controlling and abusing others.

They will try to poison your mind with self-loathing and try to convince you to harm yourself by repressing yourself and denying your own needs. They will try to tell you what to consume with the body that is, at once, both supposed to be seen as a celestial temple but also repugnant and unholy with impure needs for which you should repent. They will, if you let them, cause you to starve yourself in every possible way there is to do so.

They will try to tell you that you're sinful if you desire or love another consenting adult of whom they don't approve. They will try to tell you what to wear, what to eat, how to behave, to most exemplify what they consider to be pure, and not accept that you might think differently. They see your body as belonging to them and do not recognize your autonomy.

These are just people. They have no authority that you don't give them. They do not care about you-- they want to own you. They will harm you to maintain their own power. You do not need to listen to them. You are the judge of you. Autonomy is freedom and freedom cannot be had by listening to people who try to do you harm. You are the higher authority you're looking for.

The question of who gets to decide what is holy? is, really, also the question of why should anyone recognize as a holy authority anyone who does not respect the sanctity of a person's right to autonomy?

If you notice, Furfur isn't really shocked that Crowley was able to get into a church and remain unharmed. He isn't all omg how did he not go up in flames upon crossing the threshold?! He's just surprised that Crowley elected to go into a church at all, since the whole thing about all the original demons is that they were all thrown out of Heaven. This goes along with other scenes about consecrated ground that we've seen in both seasons.

It seems that the insides of churches are considered the domain of Heaven by the demons, who, as the metaphorically dead, prefer to haunt their territory of churchyards. This would make sense since we've already seen many other scenes showing demons walking across what would be considered consecrated ground without issue, like Crowley, Hastur, & Ligur in the churchyard in 1.01, and Beez in the Edinburgh graveyard in 2.06.

This is where we can also see that there's a question of whether or not there's even such thing as consecrated ground in the 'will burn a demon' sense in Good Omens.

If four demons have been seen walking around churchyards and if Crowley has been drinking Chateauneuf-du-Pape from vineyards in Avignon-- the former site of the papacy where every square inch of it was long ago consecrated by the Catholic Church-- then it's pretty clear that human beings, at least, do not have any authority to consecrate in the religious sense any bit of land or water or the like.

That would go along with the themes we're discussing here, as it effectively says that there is no human being on Earth with any divine power beyond the fact that every human being is a divine star child because being human itself is what is supernatural. The Earth itself is all consecrated ground and should be treated as such but, say, parish priests blessing water and land and all that is not really doing anything.

This would mean that all genuine holy water in the series-- like the stuff that killed Ligur-- would need to be made from or blessed by a literal angel. The "holy water" in the church in 1941 was just water, which is what Crowley was joking about, but he'd later apparently felt that he found some actual holy water in some church by 1967 that he had been planning to rob. Considering that Aziraphale knew about it, it's likely that Aziraphale was even the one who had blessed the water in that church.

This is even if holy water blessed by literal angels in Good Omens is real and, yeah, I say that even after Ligur, because you could argue that it's possible that Ligur believed it was real and that's really how he died. In a story where Crowley willed himself alive through the M25 fire and with the whole make it happen, make it real theme... I'm still not really convinced that holy water and hellfire are things unless you actually believe that they are. They well might be but I think that it's at least a bit open to interpretation.

Additionally, you'd think that the most consecrated place anywhere for a demon ever would be Heaven, right? That they should never be able to step foot back in there ever again, if any of this consecration stuff is real? Except, we've seen that's not the case...

Yes, you could argue that maybe Heaven and Hell did some magical exception thing to trade Michael down and Eric up in the holy water/hellfire part of S1 but Crowley strolling into Heaven in S2 would seem to negate that idea. It's more that angels can get into Hell and demons into Heaven but they mostly usually just don't because those places are considered enemy territory by one another, even if it's all the same terrifying office building.

Crowley explaining angels as bees to Muriel also showed that he already thought it was more a matter of blending in than getting into Heaven. And what did he do when he followed Muriel to their office?

That silly little hop dance, poking fun at the idea of consecrated ground, as he undoubtedly also was thinking about the church in 1941. Heaven, ugh, it's like being on a beach in bare feet! Let's hop to it, Inspector Constable, and get outta here... 😂 As we saw, he was fine to walk in Heaven, which makes it then pretty unlikely that he wasn't also fine to walk in a human church in 1941.

People are going to burn me at the stake for this lol but... I've always thought that things like this make it more than likely that Crowley was just joking about his feet burning when he entered the church in 1941. *ducks* Let's put it this way-- it's interpretable...

So, regardless of whether or not Crowley's feet were actually burning in the church in 1941, he's being flippant about consecrated ground and, as you asked, why might he use that word in this scene, when Furfur used hallowed and Crowley, honestly, probably often would, too, in other scenarios?

Because physical places, as we've mentioned above, are not the only things that people might consider holy.

Crowley has a very understandable distaste for how Heaven-- and Earthly churches like it-- say you are supposed to starve yourself of consumption and pleasure and keep "pure" the celestial temple of your body. Not only are these ideas just very unhealthy, Crowley is not about to let Heaven's ideas of bodily sanctity be his own when Heaven does not acknowledge and respect anyone's bodily autonomy, including his own.

Heaven abused him. They took his memories, burned him, gave him an unwanted snake side to his corporation. They called him evil and kicked him out and, as he put it when projecting his fall all over those poor goats in the Job minisode, had "given him up to be destroyed," which is a word that was once also used to refer to rape. He's talking about how Heaven declared him a demon, ex-communicated him, and said that, in their view, he and his celestial temple belonged to his rapist for eternity.

Crowley has religious trauma still as much as the next demon, sure, but, after all he's seen and that has happened to him, he is, ya know, going to generally be a hard pass on buying into Heaven's opinion on what healthy and holy is.

As it is, everything Crowley and Aziraphale believe are truly sanctified are all things with which The Metatron would disagree anyway.

So, in 1941, Crowley is walking into a Christian church, fully aware that he is literally the epitome of everything that church would say is a sin-- a queer, gender-everything, heathen of a demon. Just as Satan and The Metatron forbid relationships like Crowley and Aziraphale's, so did-- and still do-- many human churches like this one... and there was Crowley dryly aware that he was getting to the Nazi-laden church on time to roll up the aisle like he was soon to be Aziraphale's wife.

Whatever a wife is, as Jim so aptly questioned in S2, since that word has a long, patriarchal history implying an obedience that does not reinforce ideas of women being autonomous beings. This church Crowley's entered in 1941 would say that a wife should be subservient to her husband and that would be what would make her holy. Crowley and Aziraphale and their partnership of equals couldn't be any further from any of that.

Within the church, marriage is a sacrament, which is a type of consecration. It's the church sanctifying an union between people. It's an example of an exercise of authority that is supported by getting people to buy into the idea of their church being the only, true authority.

A marriage not sanctified by the church is, in the church's eyes, not a marriage. They define sin and a love that is seen as a sin can never be holy, in their view. This only matters if you recognize the church's authority.

Just as Heaven and Hell don't recognize Crowley and Aziraphale's love as holy, neither did this church. Neither did the country they were in, either, as it was 1941. Forget about it being illegal to marry Aziraphale at that time, it was still illegal in England just to be queer then, as it also was pretty much everywhere else.

Crowley entered the church knowing that the entire known universe at that time would never recognize his right to marry Aziraphale because it didn't even recognize their right to be themselves, live their own lives, claim their bodies as their own and make their own decisions about them. All of that was-- and still is-- pretty ironic to Crowley because there are things that he considers holy and his and Aziraphale's love is at the top of that list.

As Crowley entered the church, he was more than aware of how matrimonial all of this was. He was going up the aisle to Aziraphale at the altar in a place that preached that everything about them and their love was a sin. Regardless of whether or not you believe his feet were truly burning, Crowley was making fun of the idea that many people believe places like this church are the epitome of holy when, really, what is truly holy is much of what they call sinful.

He was being every snarky, traumatized queer whom the universe had dragged back to mass for a funeral or whatever, bitchily joking to his partner about how it was amazing that they didn't spontaneously combust upon crossing the threshold, evil, sinful heretics that they are. 😂 Argh, angel, I can't believe you're making me go to *church* to rescue you... oh, the consecrated ground-- how it burns my evil toes!

He knew he could get away with being thoroughly obnoxious about it because Aziraphale doesn't really disagree with him about any of this. Crowley's lover got humor. She's the giggle at a funeral. Crowley compares the non-existent physical pain to "like being on a beach in bare feet" and we've seen that he and Aziraphale use the sea to refer to sex so it's saying that this is all just the worst, having to romance Aziraphale by going into a church, but he's naturally there anyway because of course he is. 💘

Walking on a beach in bare feet is also basically the same thing, from a physics standpoint, as firewalking, which people have done as a religious rite/test of faith for ages. People of these faiths believe that being able to walk across hot stones and the like shows that one is holy because it must take divinity to do so. It doesn't. It's science.

It's literally just that the act of continued walking is what keeps your feet from being scalded. Your body is cooler than the stones and, since you're walking quickly over them, no part of your foot ever touches the hot stone long enough to absorb enough of the heat to burn the way that they would if you were to stand still over them. See above link, if interested, for how that connects to the theme of "walking the Earth"-- "professional cobbler"; "Demon's Guide to Angelic Beings Who Walk the Earth", etc..

There is something very dry about Crowley essentially riffing on things like consecrated ground burning demons and humans thinking firewalking sanctifies them because Crowley is literally a scientist who essentially was ex-communicated for suggesting that maybe there's more going on with the universe than it being there for people to be all "wow, God is amazing!" over.

On this theme, as we see Crowley's autonomy violated by Satan in 1.01, "Bohemian Rhapsody" is practically narrating it and Crowley grabbing the wheel to avoid the truck with🎵 Galileo, Galileo, Galileo, Galileo🎵 blaring through the speakers was connecting Crowley to another polymath who suffered a similar fate.

In the church in 1941, Crowley is on consecrated ground to him-- but not because he's in a church. Because he's there for Aziraphale, to whom he's utterly devoted, and their relationship is sanctified to Crowley. Their love is holy to them. Crowley keeps his little dance going mostly for the whole scene and you can see Aziraphale look at Crowley and smile at his shenanigans in the bit below.

Joking about consecrated ground and Crowley's humor about it in 1941 is also what I think might be behind Aziraphale initially keeping Crowley's feet out of the holy water during the body swap.

As we saw with Aziraphale's delight over telling Crowley about asking for the rubber duck, he was saying and doing a bunch of things he thought would not only help him to pass as Crowley but which would amuse Crowley when he told him later on. Being able to tell him that he was sure to keep his feet out of the holy water as much as possible would be something that Aziraphale knew was likely to earn him a laugh.

So, Furfur helps to illustrate that the demons are allowed in hallowed places like churches because places of worship truly are, technically, open to anyone there in peace. There are just plenty of people for whom the doors to the church are supposedly open but the hatred there is enough to make them feel less than welcome.

Furfur suspected that Crowley was up to something treasonous when he heard Crowley was in a church with someone because it made more sense to him for Crowley to be there with an angel committing treason than it would be for a demon to want to go to church.

While Crowley, on the other hand, called a church consecrated ground to use the purely holy connotation of the word to make fun of people who felt they could define holiness while not respecting bodily autonomy and personhood, including failing to recognize as sanctified love like that of him and Aziraphale.

In truth, what Crowley and Aziraphale are when they are together is also really the word that Furfur used-- they're hallowed. From the root kailo, meaning: whole, uninjured, and of good omen.

[socksdoeswrites]

mha boys going crazy over your recent insta post 😍😍

an: hiiii! i lovvveee this idea, and im gonna be honest i had a littttle fun writing it! thank you so much for the suggestion, anon!! i hope you all enjoy a whoooole bunch!! and just so you know, my requests are always open!!! xoxo:)

parings: mha boys x f!reader

tags/ warnings: fluff, pure raw lovin, aged up!, female reader, suggestive in some

/////////

izuku midoriya

katsuki bakugo

eijiro kirishima

shoto todoroki

hanta sero

denki kaminari

[southernbelllle]

Cuddling with the guys??

Cuddling With Miller's Squad

Including: Miller, Horvath, Reiben, Mellish, Jackson, and Wade. Caparzo and Upham will be in part 2!

Warnings: Wade's gets pretty heated, but nothing too crazy.

AN: Hey so I had so much fun writing these. Like a blast. Thank you for requesting this anon!!! They are the men ever!!!!

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Miller

Birds twittered and sung outside of your bedroom window. The morning was quiet and slow; a pace of life Miller had grown to miss during his line of work.

You were still asleep, the serene of the morning still lightly blanketing your eyelids together. Gently, you breathed in the morning in even breaths. Still completely unaware of the morning sunshine shining through the glass pane and onto the side of your face.

Your husband, however, held the opposite point of view. Miller laid to your right atop your shared bed, taking in the golden scene of peace that slept in front of him.

He brought a lazy finger to a limp lock of your hair resting along the bridge of your nose and brought it behind your ear. There you were. He felt the corners of his mouth curl into a groggy smile. He hopped that you remained sleeping for just a little while longer, just long enough so that his reality could set in, the reality that he made it home to you. There had been so many times where he was sure he wouldn't have, but fate had other plans.

And thankfully so, because the only Heaven that existed to him, he was already in.

While you were still under the deep blanket of morning slumber, your husband brought you closer to him in a careful hug. He planted tiny, tender kisses to the nape of your neck when he settled you against him.

As he held you close, he closed his eyes and allowed your scent to lull him back into a dreamless sleep. Devoid of the terror and the hardship, the men he'd lost and the men who'd lost him, any tremors or tremblings, and simply just slept.

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Horvath

It was the coldest November recorded. It was rainy, too. Sad overcast clouds hung damply over the street your suburban house sat on.

Shivering, you retreated to your bed for a mid-day nap. There simply wasn't anything else to do. So, you untucked the corners of your previously taught sheet of your made bed, and climbed back in.

The atmosphere in the room was grey and smelled of a light mix of Lavendar and sage. A small wax stub of a candle perched on the night stand beside you, glowing a smudged amber in the lonely corner.

The fat droplets of rain rapped against the shingles of your window, singing a an almost nautical lullaby that reminded you of the days you'd spent with your husband out on his speed boat. The familiar sound brought your eyelids to drop ever so slowly, until your husband stomped through the kitchen door a few rooms away.

He had been out all morning at work, hammering and filing down on the newly constructed railways. His back was sore, and his brow dripped with sweat. He stood hulkingly in the kitchen taking off his thick coat and work boots, he had been out since the early hours of the morning.

He made his way to his bed, ready to finally return to the relaxation the workday had robbed from him.

He found you tucked under the light covers, still slightly shaking from the frigid temperature of the world around you. He knew what needed to be done.

He stripped himself of his work clothes and slipped under the same covers. He situated his body on top of yours, fully engulfing your frame with his bulky forearms.

He was hot, even after a long night-turned morning out in the elements, his body still radiated heat. The tight bear hug that he had wrapped you in ceased any shiver you may have experienced.

"G'mornin'" you mumbled under his hold. The weight of his chest alone was relaxing in itself.

"Good morning, again" he chuckled against your temple.

"What's the plan for today? you lazily murmured.

"This." He answered, nuzzling his nose into the hair drapping down beside your neck.

Your laugh served as response enough. This was good enough for the both of you. Laying together, your husband asleep on top of you, the natural music of thunder and rain mixing together to bring you two to restful slumber.

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Reiben

Not a single soul other than you and Reiben's were at the Manhattan Beach that day. It was a weekday, Wednesday to be exact. His Mom's shop was closed every Wednesday since before he could even remember. Which meant he had the entire day off to do anything he pleased. So, in typical Reiben fashion, he took you to the beach, because to him, there is nothing he'd rather do than spend the whole day gawking at you in a swimsuit.

You both walked down the length of the shore, his giant hand interlocking with yours. You both left sandy footprints in the damp sediment of the earth. Chatting about your shared week, happily engaging in each other's input.

"And I told her," Reiben explained with his free hand, "I says, if you're a size 4, then I'm the Goddamn Pope!"

You shook your head and let out a joking sigh, "Please tell me you didn't actually say that to that woman, Rich."

"I had to! You know bettah than anyone 'nat when I get somethin' in my head I gots tah get it out!" he met you on the jokey playing field.

You rolled your eyes, "Yes Richard I do. Don'tcha remember when your little war buddy came over and blabbed all about your 'conversation pieces.'" You shot a lowly look at him with your eyebrows.

Reiben blushed a tinge of embarrassment. "I-" he stammered. "Listen, I," He lost it again. "I just thought the story was funny! It was a tense situation, we coulda died!"

"'Whenever things get tough I wantcha to think of these?'" You quoted with a shit eating grin. "Why would you tell people that?"

"It's what guys talk about!"

"Oh my GOD, Richard."

"It's what we do!"

You impishly rolled your eyes and hugged into your husband's shoulder. The feeling of the waves crashing against the soles of your feet, and the view of an empty beach ahead made a strange pool of euphoria gather in your chest. The wind swept your hair and made your skin slightly goose pimple when it caressed your skin.

"Is it s'possed to storm today?" You asked Reiben.

He looked up at the grey sky, swirly clouds above, "Eh. Maybe. Clouds definitely don't look happy."

You looked up at the sky again, and then kicked the coarse sand below you.

Reiben brushed his hand on the skin of your waist, feeling every bump that the cold had brought on. "Is my baby cold?" He pulled you in closer to him as you walked. Slightly jesting at your sudden burst of cold. "Does this girl need a blanket? At the beach?"

"Quit it Rich, we live in New York." You smiled.

"Aye no worries, baby. Prince charming brought ya's a blanket." He pointed to the bag you two had left in the sand near the pier. "Why don't we head back and warm up a bit, eh?"

You nodded, and turned around to head back to your spot.

Once you two had reached your secluded spot in the sand, Reiben stretched out the balnket in the sand, and allowed you to take your place on the soft yarn. Not too soon after, he joined you. He lightly spooned you from the back, his arms were long and hairy, they tickled your abdomen when he'd pull you in closer.

You brought your hands up to hold his arms that were wrapped around you, lowering your head slightly to kiss his tanned skin. You felt his breath brush up against your ear, in and out, in and out.

In that moment, that tiny twinkle of time, you felt as though you and Reiben were the king and a queen of the beach. Like Poseidon and Amphitrite, you ruled over your kingdom. Just the two of you.

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Mellish

Mellish opened the door for you as you walked through the frame leading into your apartment. He carried his sport coat thrown behind his back, and you held your heels by their buckles. You were both absolutely exhausted. The evening had completely drained the two of you.

You had been out to dinner with Mellish's parents. They were good people, really, they were, but they were even more so wearing. The very first thing his mother had asked you (before you had even sat down in your chair,) was "so when can we expect to be grandparents?" Mellish had warned you that they were direct, but you didn't expect it right out of the gate. You attempted a subtle look at Mellish, who was mentally cussing his mother, and he met your gaze with an eyeroll.

"Cool it, Ma I promise when the time is right, we'll make ya a grandparent." He pulled your chair out for you. "Now can my wife please take a seat without any interruptions." Mrs. Mellish choked back a giggle and grabbed her husband's hand. "Thank you..." Mellish spat.

"Now," Mr. Melish spoke up, "How's the brightest street of them all?"

"Nothing better than hearing angry men spout off about both the money their losing and making. It's about a real barrel of monkeys."

"Well I was going to tell you, that my friend Carl, he goes to the same synagogue as us, has a son whose looking for work on WallStreet, He doesn't want to have start off interning though. He says that it's just not a good fit for his personality, which I agree, he's a real loud prayer, but he wants an office job-" Mr. Mellish seemed to have said every word that popped into his head.

"Father please," Mellish brought his head into his hands and gave a big wipe to his forehead.

"Sorry son, anyways I told him that you would love to show him the ropes of the business. You'd find a 'good fit' for him." Mr. Mellish smiled a toothy smile.

Mellish looked over to you with a look that nonverbally said, "I'm sorry, it'll be over soon." Like a lamb to the slaughter, you brought your hand to Mellish's and gave a good squeeze.

"Oh I almost forgot! Look at these pictures of baby Stanley I found while I was cleaning out the garage." Mrs. Mellish held three photos of a toddler Stanley, all dressed in tiny sport coats and baby lace ups. "He's always been my little man!"

You giggled at the photos that had been shoved toward you. "Wow Stanley, were you ever a child?"

Stanley looked at you with tired eyes that were already looking toward the front of the restaurant and out the door. It would be over soon.

Now though, you both were home, free of any prying voices or demands made without your knowing. Your bedroom looked more than inviting. It's magnetism seeming to pull you and Mellish in closer and closer to the warmth of a warm bed and each other's embrace.

With his jacket thrown to the side, and his tie falling across his upward flipped collar, Mellish laid down atop the comforter of your bed. He pat his thigh at you, beckoning you to come over and sprawl out on him. An offer you did not hesitate to take up.

You, still dressed in your evening attire as well, hair and makeup still done to the nines, you draped your body over his. You rested you head on one of his clothed pecs and listened to his calm heartbeat.

As you rustled around on him, trying to get comfortable, Mellish caught whiffs of your expensive perfume you'd only broke out on special occasions. "You smell good." He said as he brought his nose down to smell you again. His moustache tickled your neck.

You laughed, "stop babe that tickles!"

"Sorry hun, you smell too good," he said bringing his head up and his hands to play in your hair. "Just too good..." His voice quieted as his exhaustion began to take over.

"Are we going to talk about the dinner?" Your voice rumbled against his shirt.

"Tomorrow. Im too tired to talk about my parents tonight." He lazed.

'Understandable." You sighed sleepily and pressed a light kiss to his shirt. "Goodnight, Stan."

"Goodnight, precious." He barely replied.

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Jackson

Jackson had been planning this trip for months. He'd bought all new equipment too, brighter lanterns, cozier sleeping bags, and even a menagerie of different lighters. This was going to be the best camping trip ever. Not because of the new equipment though, but because he was bringing you with him!

He'd talked it up every chance he could get. "There's a small spring that shines lil' streaks of silver when the sun hits it just right. Oh, honey you're just gonna love it I know it!" Was one of the more frequent statements.

He had packed up the bed of his old beat-up ford with his new equipment and a few other essentials (cases of water, MRE's he'd swiped from the base because he actually liked those, and some folding chairs.)

"C'mon Sugar! I wanna get there before dusk! It's the best time to fish!" He'd called up in the house.

You were still inside the kitchen packing some premade sandwiches and canned sodas into a small cooler. "Coming my love!" You'd shouted back at him, slamming the lid of the cooler and rolling it out behind you and out the door.

You met him by the truck and watched as he hoisted the cooler above his chest and into the bed. His muscles tensed as he lifted the cooler, you'd watched as his arms became rough with strength. They glistened with sweat.

"Ok darlin!" He'd unknowingly snapped you out of your gawking. "Let's git this show on the road!" He opened up the door of his two-seater and held your hand as you carefully climbed in. He then quickly jogged to his side and started the truck up and began to drive.

Jackson never really mentioned where he was going to take you. You had assumed it would be far away though. He spoke about the campground like it was this far away fairy land. So, you packed rather heavily, even if it was just for the weekend. You were surprised however, when Jackson stopped and pulled his truck over not even 20 minutes away from your house.

"We're here!" He shouted, glee filling his voice. He ran over to your door and opened it up for you once again. "C'mon sugar let's go! We're losin' sun!" Confused, but happy at your husband's unbridled joy, you followed him to the bed, and then to the campsite.

You two had spent the afternoon pitching your tent, fishing, hiking random trails Jackson had memorized over the years, and roasting marshmallows in the fire Jackson had built. You ended the day by holding each other tightly in his extra roomy sleeping bag (he'd bought it before you two had even started dating, he just knew he'd be lucky enough to take you on a trip like this one day. He'd prayed for it.)

You still didn't know why Jackson would choose to vacation so close to his own home though, curiosity had been eating at you all day. You needed answers, and you had to act fast, because once Jackson's head hit the pillow it was crickets until 6:00am.

"Hey sug," you whispered to Jackson, "are you still awake?" Even though he was facing you, you could never be too sure. "Yeah darlin' i'm still up." He meekly replied. "Oh good! I meant to ask you earlier, but what made you want to weekend so close to home? Not that I don't enjoy it or anything, I'm just curious."

Jackson stirred, bring one hand to prop his head up (so he wouldn't go to sleep in the middle of speaking) and the other across your shoulder. "Well sweet girl, my grandaddy used to take me dove huntin' over here. Ever since I's a kid, he'd drive me up here and it'd be a weekend fer just the two of us. I wasn't just another siblin' up here. It's where Grandaddy taught me to be a man. It's special." His eyes lit up an electric blue as he explained. HIs lips moved so perfectly as he told you the story behind your trip's location. "When he died, we got em' cremated an' I spread his ashes out here. I think Jesus made em' over as a dove. He visits sometimes."

You felt your heart melt as fat tears welled in his eyes. You pulled his head down to your chest. "Oh my love," you massaged his head. "Thank you for bringing me here. I'm so very honored."

"Of course. Yer real special to me doll." That was the last thing you heard your husband say before he drifted into a deep slumber. His chest rising and falling at a snail's pace. You followed closely behind him, only to be awoken by the sound of a morning dove outside of your tent.

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Wade

When you and Wade had built your house, the only thing you desperately wanted was a small reading nook packed with books and comfy chairs.

It was money well spent too, because you and Wade both found yourselves huddled in the small area with your noses poked in a book (sometimes the same one) and a warm drink sitting beside you. You were both introverts, so this was quite the sanctuary for the both of you.

"Whatcha reading, handsome?" You asked Wade, who was sitting curled up with a thick, dusty book. It was so large that he had to use both hands to keep it open.

"It's an updated medical journal detailing new ways to perform the Heimlich maneuver and other methods of foreign body removal." He spoke in his usual fast paced speech.

"Oh. Riveting." You joked and sat on the blank spot beside him on the couch.

"You laugh but it could save your life one day!" He stated coyly, a sly smile creeping upon his face.

"I'm kidding sweetie," you rested your head on his shoulder to look at the many columns of medical jargon littering the page. "I don't see how you can read this stuff. The words are so small and squished that they almost look like little ants marching off of the page."

Wade laughed at your childish imagination, "You read enough in medical training that this kind of thing becomes second nature."

"Could you translate?" You asked him, puppy dog eyes looking up at him innocently.

"Of course, dear." He picked a paragraph that he thought would be easy enough to explain, "For victims who are not in an upright position, The American National Institutes of Health recommends positioning the victim on the back, then straddling the torso and employing chest thrusts."

"Yeah, that sounds about right." You kissed his cheek. "Stand up and try that out on me."

Wade looked at you with a sassy expression. "You want me to practice the Heimlich on you? When you're not choking?"

"Yes, Irwin in fact I do. Now get up here and hold me!" You demanded tauntingly. It clicked in his head why you had requested this; you just wanted him to wrap his arms around you for a bit. He obliged.

He positioned himself behind you and brought his palms to rest against your abdomen. "If you were choking, I'd have to grab you here," he pulled your body into his. "Then I'd bring my hands up to here, " he planted the palms of his hand against the skin of your stomach, "and I would usually pull here, but tonight I'll just..." he slid his hands up and under your shirt and explored the soft skin.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you ground yourself into the man behind you. The upper row of your teeth bit into your plush bottom lip, stifling any noises that may have escaped. "Usually," Wade started, "A choking victim doesn't enjoy it this much." He grinned, proud of the reaction he was bringing out of you.

You turned around to meet his lips in a kiss and led him back to the sofa. You both took turns nipping at each other's lips. Feeling the heat of your bodies pressed together.

When you both had tired each other out, you found yourself simply laying atop of him. Occasionally pressing a sweet kiss to his nose just to see his eyes crease in laughter and a blush wash his cheeks.

"I hope I never actually choke on anything," you broke the silence around you, "but I hope you do that again." He laughed slightly embarrassed at the way the situation had heated up, but definitely not upset.

"Me too." Wade agreed. "I may do it sooner than you think..." He took a beat and waited for you to look down at him from where you lay above him. When you finally did look down and into his eyes, he brought you into another kiss. This one even more passionate than the last, his eyes closed and his hands roaming.

All of this because of reading.

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[if-underourskins]

hi! just wondering what type of stats r gonna be provided, like personality, relationship, etc.? also wanted to say that ur doing amazing and im sure ur if will be great no matter what! pls dont stress urself too much and make sure to take breaks if needed! have a great day! <3

thank you anon <33 i'm absolutely taking breaks but writing the IF is fun for me so i mostly just do it in my free time lol.

for the stats, personality-wise we have:

the stats above may be subjected to change when i do my final edits + playthroughs, but i doubt it'd be very different (maybe just without the proud/ humble).

relationship-wise, it'd be just the usual 1-100% system and when the % is above certain thresholds, it'd represent the characters changing feelings towards you. (e.g. how much the ROs like you, how close you are to your family members)

[pinsandbuttons]

cosmo x lil reader hcs c:

platonic and sfw!

- Cosmos good in the bakery, thats for sure! and the time he spends with kids all day in gardenview sure has its perks. seeing small, excited faces run around and play, enjoying the treats hes made, and having fun? thats one of the biggest joys he gets out of being a toon at the education center.

- Not to toot his own horn, but cosmo believed he was pretty great with the kids! especially the littler ones, he was so linear on feeding times, nap time, and play times that sprout occasionally liked to joke that he seemed more like a mother than a babysitter. But cosmo believed everything he was doing was perfectly normal when taking care of such small kids, and for a while, cosmo was just the kitchens resident mother.

- one night, when you thought nobody would be awake, you left to the kitchen to make some milk and cookies! (and by make u really mean see if the bakers left any out after-hours) , stumbling your way through the kitchen with your blanket in hand, you open the fridge and,, bonk! a bag of flour from ontop of the fridge fell and hit you on your head :C

-starting to feel fussy over the big mess you just made (and your subtle head injury) , you close the fridge , sit up against it and cry and whine a bit, wondering what to do next. you didnt want to leave the mess for someone else to clean up the next morning, but at the same time, cleaning feels like such a big hassle when your so little. then, almost as if on cue, cosmo walks through the diner doors, looking around with a bit of a worried look on his face.

-seeing you, your blanket, the flour on the floor (and the bit in your hair) , he puts 2 and 2 together pretty quickly and rushes over to help. sitting you down at the counter, assuring you its not your fault (and that its mainly sprouts for leaving the flour bag that close to the ledge..) he cleans up and salvages as much flour as is reasonable, and then puts it back in a (safer!) spot on the fridge before walking over to help you

-rustling the flour out of your hair, cosmo asks you, rather excitedly, what kind of cookies you want! showing you a couple options before picking out your favorite, cosmo grabs a few spares from tomorrows dish , putting them on a small plate along with your bottle of milk, and helping you back to your room. as soon as you are back , safe and sound in your room, cosmo takes a mental note of your favorite cookies before walking back to his own room to rest.

requested by : anon 🧁

thank u sm for reading..!! i hope u liked the hcs,, cosmos very fun tu write for c: happy happy day!!

[forsaken-headcanons]

i ' ve been rotating the idea of an objectified forsaken crossover in my mind for a while , so why not post it here ?

[ major spoilers for objectified ofc . ]

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▪︎ the spectre has no clue how they got there . they ' re effective , though , so they stay .

▪︎ wagyu and citrus are the only survivors who were forsakened as killers [citrus because he has one of the highest kill counts aside from like dynamite / mushroom and wagyu because . well . the parasites . ]

▪︎ ^ if he ' s alone , wagyu ' s body will revert back to his " normal " form [ no visible signs of assimilation ] . elliot thought he was a survivor and tried giving him pizza . he was saved for last that round .

▪︎ whenever he ' s killer , wagyu physically restrains himself from going anywhere near dragonscale in fear of accidentally assimilating her , not knowing assimilation is impossible in the rounds .

▪︎ ^ meanwhile , citrus won ' t exactly go out of his way to spare spool , but might save him for last , due to their bond .

▪︎ dynamite and mushroom find themselves wandering into the forest outside of rounds , due to force of habit . it worries the others .

▪︎ the survivors physically restrain anyone else from trying to stun wagyu , mushroom is the only one allowed to do so because of her assimilation immunity . chance is an exception , due to his gun .

▪︎ dragonscale does not recognize wagyu , due to his bug - like features .

▪︎ shedletsky has tried riding razor once . it did not go well .

▪︎ citrus mainly targets 007n7 and two time , due to being " easy targets " in his eyes .

▪︎ due to her tonic immobility , sharps is usually easy to kill . gum stays close to her due to that fact .

▪︎ fuzzball always has to stay near razor , due to her delirium . razor can and will kill other survivors in her outbursts . c00lkidd is afraid of her .

▪︎ painkiller and fossil have began researching about the spectre . their findings were ... startling to it , so they were found in the lake .

▪︎ sugarcube and c00lkidd get along startlingly well . minty and 007n7 bond over this fact , but brandy carries a grudge against him [ " his kid tries to kill us . " ] .

▪︎ two time has tried to convert sugarcane to the spawn cult . she was afraid of them , so she called her dads . two time had a black eye .

▪︎ spool still has his knife and crowbar . he refuses to stun citrus , though .

▪︎ wagyu hates two time , they remind him of sunny . two time is always the first one dead in his rounds .

i ' ll probably add more in a separate ask , so , may i be known as ' vanilla anon ' ? thank you in advance . stay safe !

I JUST GOT ONTO OBJECTIFIED hi this reminded me to go catch up. I was also kicking my feet and giggling while reading these they all fit so well /silly Objectified and Forsaken crossover fits so well the more I think about it omg.

Wagyu as a Forsaken killer sounds horrifying. Citrus would make use of the damage effects in Forsaken though I can't give examples, can't remember right now. Something like hallucinatory effects. Actually both of them would do that. Actually actually half the cast would have some hallucinations due to the whole starsheet thing

I feel like most of the Objectified cast would be Sentinels, or at least Survivalists with defensive capabilities. At least tougher than ones like 007n7 and Noob. Also Minty and Brandy sharing some form of molotov ability but it works best when they're together forcing them to work together again. Some of characters like Sugarcube or Fuzzball could be Supports but half of them are Sentinels to me

Seeing that this AU puts the Objectified survivors with the Forsaken characters- There's another swords(wo)man on the team with Gum now!! Shedletsky would probably want to duel with her for fun, though Gum wouldn't like him as much. Especially with Sharps. Gum staying with Sharps is so cute,,, Oh and I think John Doe's corrupted form might remind the survivors of the parasites back in Objectified.

I love everything about this hi Razor hi Dynamite and Mushroom hi Fossil and Painki Oh. Oh they're um. hcoughs. hi Dragonscale hi Brandy and Minty!! Also Sugarcube and c00lkidd getting along aww

I yapped a bit much for this (probably my longest post oh gosh) but hi vanilla anon, welcome!! This is good please drop more ideas /nf

[lovesickf-fics]

Hiiii I'm back again 👉🏻👈🏻 the silco brainworm has been controlling my every thought for a while now so I was wondering if I could request something with male reader x silco!

OKIE SO. I'm thinking like, alpha male reader who is very "not like other alphas" very quiet very calm very unassuming. And silco and him have developed some sort of friendship, to the point omega silco would definitely trust being around him in his heat. And reader took advantage of that trust and violated him in his most vulnerable moment. (Rape/noncon/nonconsensual mating bite)

OOKEEE THAT'S ALL I HOPE IT'S NOT TOO HEHE👉🏻👈🏻 - 🐺anon

Wolf in sheeps clothing

tw : noncon!, aob dynamics, nesting, heat, manipulation, coercion, scenting, mate marking, non con mating bite, blood mentions, knotting, light slapping, crying, drooling, praise, manhandling

character(s) mentioned : Silco (arcane)

reader pronouns : He/him

summary : the early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese, playing the long game works in your favour because now there's a pathetic hole ready for you, and it begs for it despite saying no

a/n : Oh wolfie, you are beyond good. This ask made me so excited to write (despite it taking ages) Thank you soso much, and i hope you like it!

It took months, almost a whole year, but befriending silco had done wonders in the long run for him. Sure, as an alpha, he could have just overpowered silco and forced him down and taken everything he'd wanted but that ruins the fun of it.

Being an odd alpha means getting into omega groups is easy. All he had to do was not act all intimidating and "knothead" like, and most omegas treated him like a friend, silco was no different.

All it took was for him to not outright growl at the omega and also not bare his teeth, simply keeping himself respectful and friendly got him next to the omega almost immediately.

Within 6 months, he was allowed to lean close to Silco, getting a whiff of his scent on days too busy for the omega to hide it as carefully, on weeks close to his heat, the alpha could practically taste him.

Acting calm on those days earned him even more brownie points, what a kind and collected alpha, nothing like the rest. It was subtle, the way his eyes would widen a little, mouth hanging open a little as he pauses mid sentence, but it worked.

Almost 9 months since their meeting originally it happened. They were in silco's office, and it happened. Silco went red in the face, the only skin unaffected being his scar, and then the smell hit him.

Silco went into heat, and he was just a desk away, He was up in seconds, practically jumping over the desk so he stands tall infront of a whimpering sat silco.

Silco barely manages to gasp out in shock, choking on the drool that's building in his mouth. Going into heat around an alpha is always so much more intensifying, and right now, silco is horrified, wet, and so desperate to get as close and as far away from the alpha thats stood next to him

He watches as silco struggles, fighting natural urges is like tearing yourself apart from the inside out, especially for an omega in heat.

Silco's legs tremble, he falls out his chair and he's shaking his head yet when he steps closer all silco does is keen, sat on the floor ready for his alpha.

It doesn't take him long to lift silco, who is wiggling and struggling but with some effort he drags the omega to his own private quaters, a nest laid ontop of the bed and dipping down onto the floor

Silco is mumbling for him to stop, how he can't be in there and how the alpha isnt the one who is to see it, that makes him twitch a little.

Not to see it, as if he hadn't been the best thing in silco's life for months, like he hadn't earned this. He threw silco down, knowing the nest would be soft enough not to hurt him in a way he didn't mean.

When silco landed, he started scurrying backwards, trying to be as small as possible, to avoid his fate. If it wasn't useless, it would probably have been cute

He approaches silco again, the same way he has for months, and he smiles, entering the nest and ignoring the whimper that causes from the omega. The whole area stinks of silco, clothes and pillows piled up in different areas, the whole room a pheremonal mess of desperation, and it was getting to him through the tent in his trousers.

Silco in the corner, mumbling no's and stop's, did nothing but fuel whatever heat was in his stomach, the whole room telling him the opposite of what the omega was saying.

With the smells getting to him now, he wasted no time, cornering the omega in his own nest, grabbing his ankle and tugging silco down so he is directly underneath him, the omega almost yelps, biting his own lip to try hide it.

None of that mattered when he could smell the rush of slick that his actions caused, leaning down and tugging the omegas clothes off, a few of the buttons popping but surprisingly most of silco's clothes stayed in tact, just another reason he was better than any other alpha.

With silco under him, he grabbed him by the hips and changed their alignment, now pushing his bulge against silco's wet hole, the heat making him pulse and the smell making him dizzy in the best way

Flipping silco around came like second nature, barely a blink between the barrier of clothes between the omegas cunt and himself to the hot feeling of skin on skin as he slipped inside.

Instinct took over, the clichés didn't lie when they talked about overwhelming urges and animalistic behaviours.

Hunched over the omega, gripping his waist with an iron grip and slamming his hips over and over and over, ignoring the cries from below, it felt like it was written as perfection, the overwhelmingness of it all tripped him further into a domineering threat, biting down at the shoulders, neck, and any skin in reach, hips never pausing to the point that each thud had a small ache with each connection

Silco was crying, drooling and leaking, every hole was wet and slick and shiny, he stank of pathetic pheromones, and the omega was trying so hard to move, but each slam of the alphas cock inside him rendered him shakey and his instincts kept him underneath and open for the intrusion he begged to stop.

From waist to ass, scratching and slapping at the shape that the alpha hadnt seen clearly, silco had the habit of dressing clothes that hid his naturally omega like body and he was realising why now, he never would have lasted nine months next to this had he realised.

Silco was desperate, bleeding from some of the bite marks, hiccuping sobs that were interrupted by moans from the stretch coming from the knot forming against the edge of his hole, each thrust sending it closer and closer to locking them in, locking them together.

He moves them now, pulling silco up so they're vertical, using the position to slam the omega down harder, nails leaving cuts where they dig in and teeth finding the crook of silco's neck.

Silco's moans are close to screams now, his tears, sweat and drool mixing across his cheeks and chin, and the final tipping point is the bite. The mating bite that sends silco into an orgasm, his hole pouring with slick to help the knot in, cum dribbling down his omega cock, covering his stomach and sheets as he gargles on the word please

He pushes the knot in, his own orgasm coming to him as he breeds the body he holds, pulse after pulse never stopping his hips, now just rutting into the hole that keeps him there.

Silco will hate him for a bit, but for now he wonders if that was enough to gets pups out of the pathetic and almost passed out omega

[blacktofade]

i think i could read a million more stories in your gemtho wedding meetup universe like not even for smut just like the concept itself is so fun to me like imagining them making subtle references to having irl knowledge of each other and no one else picks up on it until one time they say something just a bit too much like ? how do you know that about each other ? i’ve never heard that fact about etho before ? etc or something. or like meeting up irl more, actually getting into a relationship, keeping it a secret. yeah just. the ways that au could go really tickle my brain

Thank you, Anon!!! There are soooooo many possibilities for this AU! I feel this way about my weekend meet up fic, too! Both of them open up an entire world of spinoffs!

[egophiliac]

What do you like about the Diasomnia boys if I may ask?

I always love hearing about the different reasons people enjoy characters.

I mean, c'mon. he has split custody over Sebek okay

also, Lilia in particular has maybe the best timeskip character development of all time

[retquits]

hewwo i love your fanart BUT i dont know much about ur ocs !!!! is there an oc(s) of yours you'd like to ramble about?? xx

thank you so much for asking?! 😭😭😭 AHH

actually, i'm really obsessed with my fields of mistria oc, monroe!!

💙 i have a full page dedicated to him here 💙 (including his bio and a lot of unpublished art that i'll post here eventually - i'm addicted to drawing him)

he's a very weary ex-adventurer with a pretty unpleasant past who moved to mistria in hopes of just quietly disappearing/fading away. he's malnourished, has terrible posture, doesn't know how old he is, has big feral cat energy, and doesn't know how to handle people being kind to him. i love him and his silly blue farm so much