#and it was oddly heartfelt too

[goblin-enjoyer]

Ok I think I’m too far gone. I had a dream where izutsumi was demanding I eat better in a gift shop connected to what seemed like some sort of dark iron dwarf raid entrance. I know “haha watching/reading dungeon meshi makes the characters pop up in your head and tell you to eat better” is the funny joke around here, but were you gits not 100% joking or something? Am I just looking too much into a random dream? (Probably)

[odoraful]

𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

brushing up on physical intimacy might be hard for an adeptus like xiao. however, he's willing to put in the effort for a romantic like you.

⟡ content: xiao x gn!reader; sfw; fluff; xiao is ALWAYS serious about wanting to learn more about you :') ; 1.5k words

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You froze in shock hearing what Xiao had just asked.

“Do you want to kiss?”

The words reverberated in your head. Did you need to schedule a visit with Baizhu to have your ears checked? Or did your serious-minded adeptus actually initiate wanting to kiss you? If it was any consolation, Xiao seemed an equal measure flustered by his own request.

You had just begun to unwind for the night at Wangshu Inn—Xiao pouring out tea, and you folding laundry to be put away—when he spouted the question.

Seeing your wide eyes barely blink, Xiao blurted out, “You kept talking about the opera we watched”—he cleared his throat—“and about how romantic the kiss was.”

You flushed.

The romanticist in you couldn’t help it though. At Liyue Harbour, the Yun-Han Opera Troupe had just performed a story of forbidden romance. It was a tale of two lovers who had been banished to opposite sides of the night sky. For only a single day out of a year, birds would form a bridge to help them reunite. And when they met, they shared a passionate kiss beneath the heavenly skies dotted by milky stars and galaxies. You had almost been moved to tears. Believing that Xiao was unaffected by such things, you freely chattered about it the way back to Wangshu Inn after the performance. Gushing endlessly about the magic of it all.

“It was! But, that doesn’t mean that I want to”—

You sucked in a breath, cutting yourself off.

Well, you didn’t not want to kiss Xiao. You just weren’t prepared at all for this.

“It’s just that you said it so suddenly!” you said, shaking out a blouse that matched the shade of pink that spread across your cheeks.

Affection came in many forms between the two of you—heartfelt conversations on moonlit nights, swims in Yaoguang Shoal when the weather warmed up, exchanging trinkets from one’s adventures—but neither of you had engaged in anything physical. It seemed like an invisible line not to be crossed. Shoulders side-by-side, but never touching. Hands brushing, but never holding.

You stored your small pile of clothes away, staring aimlessly into the open drawer trying to figure out a reply. He sounded so genuine in his offer, how could you turn it down? Resolute, you shut the drawer and swung around.

Betrayed by his tendency to blush easily, Xiao fought to keep a calm expression on his face. He rested his elbow on the arm rest of the wooden sofa, hand covering his mouth. His words came out muffled.

“Forget I said anything.”

No, no, don’t backtrack! you thought.

You needed to salvage this situation. Though, your mind drew a blank. Quickly, your dug around your memories and all the romantic stories you’ve read, featuring love interests timid, bold and everything in between. What was the perfect move to woo someone the fastest? A move that would be impossible to refuse?

You crossed the floor of the room with an unfaltering gait. Xiao’s eyes followed your movement, curious as to your intent.

With little hesitation, you sat on his lap.

Every hair on Xiao’s body raised. His heartrate thundered in his ears, faster than in any fight he had been in. The curve of your body against his thighs was a foreign, yet oddly comforting, sensation.

“W-what are you doing?!” he spluttered, flabbergasted.

Your boyfriend was in the most embarrassed state you had ever seen, his face as red as a jueyun chili.

“You asked if I wanted to kiss, right?” you confirmed, trying to keep your voice even. “Well, here’s my answer to that.”

A fuse short circuited in Xiao’s brain.

He didn’t even know where to look. At your eyes? No, they held too much bated anticipation. At your lips? Certainly not. Even staring down into his lap meant acknowledging the vulnerable position you two were in.

He couldn’t do this. He definitely couldn’t do this. Why had he even asked you in the first place? Because he could somehow act like a prince charming? Hold the back of your neck and sweep you off your feet with an expert kiss? However, beneath his panic, the temptation he felt was undeniable. Yet, time and time again, his desires were drowned out by the alarms blaring in his mind.

You laid your hands on his shoulders. The air around him sweetened, the perfume on your wrists enhanced by your closeness.

As you drew nearer to him, he was forced to look up at you. The panic stilled. All he could focus on was you. The steadiness of your breathing, and the tensing of your legs. Every little texture on your face, and each blink of your eyes.

Xiao wanted to try. Try to fulfil those romantic fantasies you spoke so fondly about. Maybe, just maybe, he could make you just as giddy and lovestruck.

The unexpected passion in his gaze was too overwhelming for you. Unable to hold eye contact with him anymore, you turned you head to the side,

Xiao knew to strike when enemies left an opening in their defences. Whilst you were the farthest from an opponent to him, it was those same instincts that pushed him to move after the perfect opportunity you gave.

Your mouth parted with surprise at his lips pressed against your cheek. Though it only lasted seconds, the softness of his kiss lingered behind, your skin tingling with elation. Outside, past the balcony of your room, the stars seemed to twinkle a magnitude brighter before he pulled away. You turned back to him, an incredulous smile plastered on your face, practically beaming.

“I-I know it wasn’t like how it was in the opera…” Xiao’s voice trailed off, hands fiddling at the fabric of the cushion beneath him.

You shook your head in strong disagreement. “I thought it was even better than the opera.”

Interlocking your fingers behind his neck, your voice filled with mirth, “I should tell Yun Jin about it so she can incorporate it into her next performance.”

“Do not tell her.”

“I’m joking! Well, only about the telling Yun Jin part that is.”

Up close, he could see exactly the way your eyes creased and your lips curved when you laughed. Had he done that? Been the one to provoke such cheeriness for you? The previous fears he had subsided, and it boldened him to ask you a question.

“Why is it—” his voice grew small—“you never ask me to do things like this with you?”

His sincerity both gladdened you, and twinged you with guilt.

“To be honest, I always assumed that you didn’t like to do these sorts of things,” you admitted, downcast.

“It is hard for me due to my… inexperience,” his face scrunched up slightly as he paused. An endearing habit of his when he let his thoughts collect itself before replying, “but if it’s for you, I’m willing to try.”

Hesitatingly, he brought a hand up to cradle of your face. His touch was feather-like, leaving a gap of mere millimetres against your skin.

“Just… don’t move so fast.”

Xiao examined your reaction, hoping that his words made sense.

“I understand,” you reassured, “I want us both to feel comfortable too, so we can take things slowly.”

Comfortable… Once again, he was conscious of your position.

He coughed, a slight awkwardness to his tone as he spoke.

“Then, does ‘taking things slowly’ involve sitting in my lap?”

“Ah!”

You almost jumped out of your skin realising the position you had put him in.

“I’m so sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking. It was just something I’ve seen happen so many times in the light novels I read, and I thought I’d try to do one on you.” You were rambling at this point, spouting anything out of your system.

Hurriedly, you got up, brushing the sweat from your palms on the fabric of your pants. You sat beside him on the sofa, willing the heat away from your cheeks.

“I-I didn’t dislike it,” he said, gently. “I would prefer if you asked next time so I’m prepared.”

You nodded. The corners of Xiao’s lips twitched at your sulk. He knew well enough he should change the subject to dispel the embarrassment radiating off you.

“You spoke of light novels? What are they?”

“They’re a type of literature from Inazuma.” As you continued, your composure renewed itself. “Wanwen Bookhouse has been supplying lots of new genres recently, specifically romance,” you added, somewhat sheepishly.

He hummed with interest. “Could you… share them with me?”

“You want to read some?” You brightened at his curiosity. “But, why?”

Xiao’s expression fell into seriousness, as if calculating a decisive move in a battle.

“I want to understand your likes more.”

His words landed a direct hit to your heart, causing it to flutter. It was a different feeling to when you read your novels. It was far more intense, and infinitely more meaningful.

He smiled softly.

“These stories will be good study for me.”

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[chrollogy]

SIGNED: LOVESICK FOOL #01

iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

next | masterlist

synopsis: You decide to try out the university confessions page as an anonymous submitter to write a vague paragraph about your feelings for Iwaizumi—oddly enough, students following the page seems to be hooked in your confession.

chapter content warning: college au, fluff, oikawa appearance :3, reader is helplessly in love with mr iwaizumi hajime, not beta read.

word count: 2.3k

notes: divider: cafekitsune. sorry this came a bit late >< i fell asleep LMAOOOOOO

Falling in love has always been a weird concept. One day you wake up, and feel completely different towards a certain someone who you swear you only love platonically; your heart starts to race faster whenever you’re in their presence, mind formulating a million different thoughts on how to act normally until it loses its meaning, suddenly becoming overly self conscious of one’s appearance, and always wanting to look your very best whenever they’re around—the whole package.

Unfortunately, you were all too familiar with this.

As though in a romance movie, the whole world slowed down as your eyes landed on the person before you, anything, and everything faded into nothing—a mere whitenoise behind the rapid pounding of your heart.

Iwaizumi’s hair gleamed beneath the sun’s afternoon rays, long lashes ghosted over the apple of his cheeks, rosy lips slightly puckered in concentration. You remembered it like yesterday—the strong aroma of roasted coffee beans, the light chatter of other customers in the café, the warm blanket of sunshine, the heart-stopping eye contact.

Iwaizumi called your name a total of three times until you finally broke free from your trance; everything flooded back the moment your name slipped past his parted lips for the third time—as though suddenly reeled from a freeze frame.

You remembered blinking at him, letting a heartbeat or two pass before asking him what he needed, though, Iwaizumi’s words entered one ear, and left the other; you were more focused on the way his plush lips moved with every word spoken, mind wondering what it’d feel like against your own.

That night, you tossed, and turned beneath your ivory blanket; mind a complete mess, and heart an even bigger mess. You just didn’t get why you had to catch feelings for Iwaizumi out of all people.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, never but everything between the two of you has been strictly platonic ever since—hell, you both even had a fair share of past relationships; you felt indifferent when Iwaizumi introduced his first girlfriend to you but now, just the thought introducing another woman made your stomach churn uncomfortably.

Realising that bottling up these feelings was a foolish thing to do, you scoured your mind for anything, and everything just to find some kind of release from all these unsaid thoughts. You were close to giving up, and retire for the night until a random thought popped into your mind,

Seijoh University Anonymous Confessions.

The unofficial page was undoubtedly popular amongst the students of the university, it served as a freedom wall where one was given the ability to express anything, and everything to fellow students behind anonymity; ranging from harmless rants about the meal prices all the way to heartfelt messages, you name it.

Submitting a confession was easy, all one had to do was fill up an anonymous form linked on the page, and wait ‘til moderators post it for everyone else to see.

You’ve always just been an avid reader of the confessions, a mere pastime in between lectures, and study breaks. It was interesting to see other students’ perspective, and thoughts in the campus you all shared, serving you a reminder that despite being in the same environment, everyone experienced things very differently.

Though, the only constant factor in everyone’s university lives was the confession page, even yours.

Despite the page ensuring full anonymity, it was still nerve-wracking to turn your feelings into words, your thumbs shook as you typed each letter into the anonymous form. You knew Iwaizumi would eventually see this confession despite only reading from the page from time to time, you just hoped it was vague enough for him to not notice—he was smart, and usually pieced clues together like it was nothing.

Surely out of all these students submitting confessions to this page everyday, Iwaizumi wouldn’t know, right?

The next few days consisted of refreshing said page, and waiting for your confession to pop up. “You’ve picked up your phone at least ten times in the past two minutes, what’s so interesting?” Oikawa’s dulcet voice pulled you into reality, your torso unceremoniously jerked away to shield your phone as he attempted to take a peek at the device in your hand.

The former narrowed his eyes at you but before he could throw a sly remark your way, Iwaizumi let out an annoyed sigh which gained yours, and Oikawa’s attention.

“Oikawa, if you’re bored, go bother someone outside the study room.”

The brunette playfully rolled his eyes before standing up to stretch, a small yawn slipping past his rosy lips. “Alright, I’m going to get some snacks. Anyone want any?” He grabbed his phone off the table before shifting his gaze between you, and Iwaizumi who only shook his head in silence, completely preoccupied with an assignment.

“Can I come?” “No, go scroll on your phone.”

Oikawa stuck his tongue out, not letting you protest before leaving the study room. The sound of the door clicking echoed throughout the walls of the study room, a deafening silence engulfed you, and Iwaizumi; for you, the silence was awkward, for him, it was completely normal.

If your heart were to pound any louder against your chest, you were sure he would’ve heard.

You randomly flipped through the pages of your textbook, trying to make yourself look busy. God, you couldn’t get more awkward than this. A flurry of overly self-conscious thoughts flooded your mind—would he think I’m weird for flipping too many pages? Fuck, am I reading this paragaph too fast? Is my posture okay? Oh god, I haven’t looked at a mirror all day, do I look fine? Is my hair messy?

Small, sharp prickles kissed down your body as heat engulfed you out of nowhere, cheeks warmed, and palms sweaty. You let out a sigh, nails digging into the skin of your nape, attempting to relieve the annoying itch.

“You okay? You seem very stressed lately.” Iwaizumi pushed his laptop screen halfway down to get a better view of you, he was slouched far into his seat, arms propped on either side of his laptop. His gaze met your own, deep emerald eyes boring into your very core. With a racing heart, you turned your mind upside down for an answer,

“Yeah . . I’m fine. Just tired is all.” Mentally cursing yourself, your nails harshly dug into the hearts of your palm—your voice came out small, and airy, not really convincing but whatever. If Iwaizumi caught your little white lie, he didn’t press on, instead returning a subtle dip of his chin before shifting his gaze back onto the laptop before him.

Sounds of soft keyboard tapping, and the low hum of the wall clock accompanied the deafening silence, you sat there twiddling your thumbs like a dumbass as if you weren’t supposed to be studying.

Iwaizumi wasn’t even doing anything yet here you were, warm faced, and as stiff as a board, if only he knew the effect he had on you. It was beyond embarrassing, really, how he was able to have this effect on you with little to no effort but then again, this was the Iwaizumi Hajime, of course it made sense.

For the first time in forever, you silently wished Oikawa came back as soon as possible—each second passed without a word spoken between you, and Iwaizumi, and you could really use the brunette right now to diffuse the growing awkwardness on your side.

As if the heavens answered your prayer, Oikawa came striding past the door, a bunch of snacks tucked neatly beneath his arm, and torso; you’ve never felt happier seeing him but you weren’t about to let anyone know. The brunette held his phone with his other hand, brown eyes concentrated on the device,

“Have you guys read the new confession? The page just posted it a couple of minutes ago.” He set the snacks on the table, and slid one your way before sitting down.

That’s right, just like you, Oikawa was also an avid reader of the university confessions page as though it was the morning newspaper. You couldn’t really blame him, the whole concept of it was interesting, plus, some confessions were rather strange but fascinating, nonetheless.

Iwaizumi wordlessly shook his head, not sparing a glance at his friend, you, on the other hand, felt a sudden wave of panic wash over your body. Did they finally post your confession? You squirmed in your seat, trying to act nonchalant, and completely normal about the situation at hand, “Mmm, no, not yet. Is it that interesting?”

Oikawa let out a low hum, an amused smile plastered on his face, with the way his gaze shifted back, and forth across the screen of his phone, he seemed to be reading the newest confession. The expression on Oikawa’s face did nothing to relax your nerves, he looked like he was enjoying every bit of the post—surely, you didn’t put much detail into it for anyone to piece it together or did you?

You expected the brunette to answer a simple yes or no along with a little explanation like he always did whenever he brought up the confessions page but apparently, he decided he’d read it out loud without you or Iwaizumi even asking.

Oikawa cleared his throat, “Here, I’ll read it out loud,” 

“Oh god. Never in a million years did I think this would happen to me but lately I’ve noticed that every time I see him, my heart starts racing. I can’t act normally around him anymore and he just looks so handsome whenever I see him. It’s hopeless, I know but some part of me wishes that my feelings are reciprocated. I don’t blame myself for falling in love because he’s such an amazing guy. He’s my everything, he knows that but he doesn’t know I don’t mean platonically. Sigh.”

As your friend read deeper into the paragraph, you slouched further into your seat, cheeks burning like the sun, and embarrassment engulfing your whole body. That was your confession. Fuck, you just wanted the floor to swallow you whole right then, and there.

Your eyes darted between Oikawa, and Iwaizumi, scanning their expressions—the former obviously had a smug smile on his face while the latter looked indifferent; the same old deadpan expression he’d worn since the start of your study session.

As if to make things worse for you, the brunette spoke up again, “It’s gaining quite the attention only because it's such a juicy confession, and students are trying to find out who’s in love with their best friend.” Oikawa chuckled, turning off his phone, and resting his palms behind his head.

What the fuck. How was your confession gaining more attention than the others? Last time you checked, yours was just a typical love confession, something all students have seen hundreds of times on the page, nothing special.

“W-what? Why? Why is it gaining attention?” Your tone came out more panicked than intended. Upon realising this, you awkwardly cleared your throat, and took a sip from your water bottle to help your nerves calm a tad bit before speaking up once again, “What’s so interesting about it, anyway?”

Oikawa shrugged, “Just a typical love confession but I’m not going to lie, it’s always interesting whenever someone has feelings for their best friend.”

Grabbing the snack Oikawa gave you earlier, you hastily opened the bag, and popped a chip in your mouth. Yeah, maybe eating something will calm your nerves.

This time, it was Iwaizumi’s turn to speak up, “Mhm. I’m guessing everyone’s just curious about it, maybe many can relate. It’s not easy being in love with your best friend.” He finally looked up from his laptop, dark emerald eyes shifting from Oikawa to you.

His gaze lingered a little too long for your liking which caused your brain to short circuit. Before you knew it, all you could do was listen to the sound of your yearning heart, fingers curling around the chip packet as your grip tightened.

You sucked in a breath, and averted your gaze from Iwaizumi, staring at the contents of your chip packet, “True . . I feel sorry for OP, especially since it's a long term friendship.” At least your voice didn’t come out shaky this time. Iwaizumi only nodded, he seemed to be in deep thought, whatever the reason was, you absolutely didn’t want to know.

Back in your dorm, you couldn’t help but check the comments under your confession, and as Oikawa stated earlier, majority of it were students tagging their friends on the post, and trying to find out who’s in love with their best friend. Some also gave sound advice about the situation which you appreciated, though, you didn’t know if you were really ready for a face to face confession with Iwaizumi.

Weirdly enough, the unexpected attention gave you a bit of confidence now that you were looking at it from another perspective. Earlier, it felt like a complete nightmare with how much other students were invested in your sad lovelife but now that you’ve calmed down, it was reassuring to see others give blind support, and words of encouragement.

Safe to say, there was still a hint of community between students despite everyone fighting their way through the semesters.

Plus, everyone seemed to await your next confession post, so who were you to deny them that? After all, you couldn’t really talk about it with anyone else, why not share it with the student population behind anonymity?

As expected, not only did your confession gain more traction within the next few days, but friends from classes you’re taking have also been talking about it. Though you couldn’t really comprehend what was so special about your submission, your feelings felt nothing but valid. Suddenly, it didn’t really feel like much of a crime being in love with your best friend—running away from your feelings was never an option but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t once cross your mind.

A million thoughts from students floated throughout the campus regarding the confession; ‘I wonder what their best friend is like?—he must be a really amazing guy.’ ‘I’m kind of curious as to what the person behind the confession is going to do next.’ ‘Heh, what if this confession is actually meant for me?’ ‘When will it be my turn?’

You’ve heard it all.

Despite everyone’s attention on the post, you just really wished that in the back of Iwaizumi’s mind, there was a pressing thought telling him the confession might be for him.

—

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© chrollogy 2024 | don't plagiarise, repost or steal my header.

[rmadridcore]

Wild Day In

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Summary: You and Jude babysit your friend’s hyperactive 5 year old, battling snack mishaps, a bubble-filled bath explosion, and a mini tornado of energy.

Word Count: 3.9K

Masterlist

Author’s note: Heyyy 🤍 I was in the mood for fluff overload bc this week was a fever dream and soo much happened and none of it was good 😭 sooo here is a cutesy fic I wrote very quickly. Hope you’ll like it & don’t forget to tell me your thoughts! 🌸

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Jude is, without a doubt, one of the most considerate people you’ve ever met. He doesn’t just listen — he hears you. He’s thoughtful, always taking your perspective into account, and when it comes to making decisions, your opinion carries an almost sacred value for him. But, and this is a big but, sometimes the man is as stubborn as a remote control that refuses to work until you smack it just right.

Enter today’s situation.

Your friend called you in desperation, asking for a huge favor. She and her partner were off to a wedding, and their regular babysitter had fallen through. Would you and Jude be able to babysit her 5 year old son, Ollie, for the entire day and night?

Now, Ollie is an adorable little boy, the kind who can charm anyone in seconds. You and Jude had spent plenty of time with him before, and you both adored him, but an entire day and night? That was an entirely different ballgame.

You couldn’t say no. How could you? Ruining your friend’s plans wasn’t an option, and besides, how bad could it be?

When you told Jude about the arrangement, he seemed oddly enthusiastic, flashing his trademark grin. Jude loved kids, and Ollie was no exception. But that’s where his stubborn streak kicked in.

Ollie, bless his heart, was a handful. Hyperactive, tireless, loud, and joyful in a way that only 5 year olds can be. A sweet little menace, in other words.

You had begged Jude to ask his mom or your mom to help out, just in case things got overwhelming. But Jude? Absolutely not. He flat-out refused.

“We’ve got this,” he said, as if the two of you were seasoned parents. “It’s one kid. How hard can it be?”

No matter how many times you tried to change his mind, he was dead set on the idea of having Ollie all to yourselves. And, eventually, you caved. It’s just one day, you reminded yourself. What could possibly go wrong?

As you rearranged the cushions on the couch for the hundredth time, anxiously waiting for Ollie to arrive, you threw out one last Hail Mary.

“We can still call your mom, you know? Her experience would be pretty useful right about now.”

Jude, cool as a cucumber, flashed you a grin. “Y/N, you’re worrying too much. We’re going to be fine.”

Fine, you thought, eyeing him like he’d lost his mind. Sure, taking care of a hyperactive five year old for 24 hours was no big deal — if you were, say, a superhero. But realizing you weren’t going to win this battle, you let out a resigned sigh and went back to fluffing pillows.

The doorbell rang, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Hi there!” you greeted Ollie once you opened the door with a wide smile as he launched himself at your knees, hugging them tight like you were his long-lost best friend. Your friend followed, looking both relieved and grateful as she set Ollie’s overnight bag on the floor.

“You guys are lifesavers. Seriously, thank you so much for watching him.” She placed a hand over her heart like she might cry with gratitude.

“No worries,” you said, giving Ollie’s fluffy hair a quick ruffle. “We’re going to have so much fun, right Ollie?”

Jude, standing tall behind you, added with a confident nod, “We promise he’ll still be in one piece when you get back.” You shot him a quick, anxious glance as your friend let out a nervous laugh.

“Just... try to keep him away from sugar before bed. He’ll get... well, crazier than usual.” She gave you instructions.

With a final hug for Ollie and another round of heartfelt thank-yous, your friend headed out the door, promising to keep her phone on 24/7, “just in case.”

You shut the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, steeling yourself for what was to come.

When you returned to the living room, Jude and Ollie were already on the couch, flipping through kids' channels. Jude turned to you with a deadpan expression.

“Can a 5 year old watch Goodfellas?”

You burst out laughing but quickly realized from his face that he was, in fact, being serious. “No, Jude. Absolutely not. 90s movie about mobsters is not suitable for a kindergartener!”

Jude shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

The afternoon, thankfully, went off without too much drama — at first. Jude and Ollie settled on watching PAW Patrol for a solid 20 minutes before Jude, ever the athlete, decided to take Ollie outside to teach him a few football tricks.

It started off perfectly. They passed the ball back and forth, Ollie giggling with every kick. But then, ten minutes in, disaster struck. Ollie, in a burst of over-enthusiasm, kicked the ball with every ounce of strength his tiny body could muster... right into Jude’s crotch.

Jude dropped to the ground in agony, his face contorted in pain as he clutched himself. “I’m fine,” he managed to croak out, though you weren’t so sure.

Meanwhile, Ollie, oblivious to the catastrophe he’d just caused, ran around the backyard, laughing like a mini maniac. Football wasn’t distracting him — it was fueling him.

And that’s when you realized: this kid loved to run.

Like, really run.

He was a blur of energy, darting around the yard with Jude in hot pursuit, though Jude was limping slightly from the earlier injury.

You, on the other hand, could barely keep up. At some point, you dropped down onto the grass, panting for breath, your sides aching.

“How is he still going?” you wheezed, watching as Ollie raced around Jude, who had finally caught up and scooped the boy into his arms.

Ollie hung upside down, laughing hysterically as Jude spun him in circles. Despite the chaos, the sight of Jude with Ollie, both of them laughing and carefree, made your heart swell. Exhausted as you were, you couldn’t help but smile as you watched them. Jude, for all his stubbornness, was in his element, and seeing him like this, with a kid who adored him, was enough to make your heart race for a completely different reason.

After a solid hour of chasing the little whirlwind around the backyard, you finally managed to corral him back into the kitchen.

“Okay, buddy,” you said, leaning down to Ollie’s eye level, your tone hopeful. “How about a snack now?” Surely, after all the running he’d done, he’d be exhausted and ready to wind down.

“Yeah! Snack time!” he cheered, still bursting with energy as his little arms flailed in excitement. He darted into the kitchen like his life depended on it. You exchanged a look with Jude, who simply shook his head, a mix of admiration and disbelief on his face.

“How does he have this much energy?” you whispered, half to yourself. Ollie’s endless stamina was slightly terrifying but also ridiculously adorable. Jude, ever the optimist, scooped Ollie up and sat him on the kitchen counter.

“Alright, little man. What’s it gonna be? Cookies, fruit, or a sandwich?” Ollie tapped his chin in exaggerated thought, his face scrunching up like he was about to make the most critical decision of his young life.

“I want a peanut butter sandwich!” His eyes lit up, and just as you were about to reach for the bread, he added with the utmost seriousness, “But I want to make it myself.”

You and Jude exchanged another look, the same thought crossing your minds. This could either be the cutest bonding moment, or a disaster of epic proportions. Given Ollie’s track record for chaos, you were leaning toward the latter.

You hesitated, trying to find the words to suggest otherwise. “Are you sure we should—” Before you could finish, Ollie hopped off the counter and dragged a chair over, determined to prove his culinary genius.

His little legs struggled to climb up, but he managed with the confidence only a 5 year old could have. You and Jude watched in amusement as he grabbed the loaf of bread with two hands and tossed it onto the counter, a few slices falling to the floor in the process.

Jude discreetly reached for the peanut butter jar, loosening the lid before handing it to Ollie, so that he wouldn’t struggle with opening it.

“Alright, chef,” Jude said with a smirk, glancing at you.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.” Ollie stacked the slices of bread in a crooked pile, beaming like he’d just created a masterpiece.

“First, you need bread,” he said, his little voice full of authority. Jude chuckled, trying to stifle his laughter. “Looks… great.” Ollie then opened the jar of peanut butter with ease, thanks to Jude’s secret assistance, and proudly held up a butter knife that was far too big for his tiny hands.

With the precision of a wrecking ball, he began smearing peanut butter onto the bread — or rather, onto the counter, with a few globs landing on the bread by accident.

“It’s perfect!” Ollie announced, a glob of peanut butter now stuck to his cheek, completely unaware of the mess he was making.

Jude bent down to inspect the "masterpiece" with exaggerated seriousness.

“Wow, this looks like a real chef’s special. What do you think, babe? Should we open a restaurant?”

You snorted, crossing your arms. “Oh, absolutely.”

But Ollie wasn’t done yet.

“Wait! We need juice!” He hopped off the chair and sprinted to the fridge with the speed of a mini Olympic sprinter.

In his excitement, he grabbed a juice box, squeezing it so hard that juice sprayed everywhere — his shirt, the counter, and even Jude’s face.

“Whoops!” Ollie giggled, looking completely unfazed by the chaos.

“Whoops is right,” you muttered, grabbing a towel to clean up the sticky mess while Jude stood there, wiping juice from his face with a defeated look.

He shook his head, now fully laughing. “This is going great.” You tossed the towel at him, grinning.

“You’re cleaning this up, by the way.” You took Ollie’s sticky hand and led him off to change his shirt.

When you came back, the little boy proudly sat on the counter with his lopsided, half-smeared sandwich in hand.

“Here! Try it!” he demanded, shoving the sandwich toward Jude. “I made it special for you!”

He glanced at you with mock horror in his eyes, clearly torn between supporting Ollie’s culinary adventure and protecting his taste buds.

“Special, huh? Well, I’m honored,” Jude said, taking the smallest, most hesitant bite he could manage.

You watched, thoroughly amused.

“Go on,” you teased, eyes twinkling. “It’s a chef’s special.” Jude struggled to chew the sticky mess, his voice strained as he forced out, “Mmm... delicious.”

Ollie beamed with pride. “Told you! I’m a chef!” You burst out laughing, patting Jude on the back as he finally swallowed.

“You’re a brave man.”

“Anything for you, chef,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek, only for you to wipe a smudge of peanut butter from the corner of his lips.

The little boy, satisfied with his work, hopped off the counter and ran off to the living room, leaving the kitchen a sticky, peanut-butter-coated disaster.

You both stood there for a moment, surveying the damage. The counter was smeared with peanut butter, the floor stained with juice, and somehow, there was still a glob of peanut butter in Jude’s hair.

“This might’ve been a bad idea,” Jude sighed, tossing the towel over his shoulder, but the fond smile on his face told you otherwise. You nudged him playfully, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Admit it, you’re having fun.”

He looked down at you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “With you? Always.”

By the time bath time rolled around, you and Jude were already feeling the effects of a full day of babysitting. Ollie had run circles around the both of you, literally, and now it was time to tackle what could be the most unpredictable part of the night. You knew one thing for sure: getting a hyperactive five year old into a bath was going to be anything but peaceful.

Jude clapped his hands together. “Alright, little man, bath time!” he announced, flashing Ollie a wide smile. Ollie’s eyes widened like you’d just suggested the most absurd thing in the world.

“But I don’t need a bath! I’m not even dirty!” he protested, looking down at his dirt-streaked knees and peanut butter-stained shirt with a completely straight face.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, really? Because I’m pretty sure that peanut butter in your hair says otherwise.”

“No way,” Ollie argued, puffing out his chest. “Peanut butter is for eating, not for washing off!”

Jude knelt down to his level, trying his best to reason with the kid. “Come on, buddy, how about we make it fun? You can bring your toys, and we’ll have bubbles!”

“BUBBLES?!” Ollie’s eyes lit up like Christmas morning. “Okay! But I want a lot of bubbles!”

You grinned, grabbing the bubble bath solution from the cupboard. “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll give you more bubbles than you’ve ever seen.”

With that promise, Ollie finally agreed to the bath, darting up the stairs with the same boundless energy he’d had all day. You and Jude followed close behind, exchanging amused glances.

Once you reached the bathroom, Ollie was already busy picking out which toys were worthy of accompanying him into the tub. Jude turned on the water, adding a generous amount of bubble bath until the tub was practically overflowing with fluffy white bubbles. Ollie clapped his hands in glee, bouncing on his toes as he watched the bubbles multiply.

“It’s like a cloud!” Ollie exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air.

“More like a bubble avalanche,” you said, watching the bubbles cascade over the edge of the tub.

Ollie started stripping off his clothes — his shirt getting stuck over his head, turning him into a giggling mess as he tried to wriggle free. Jude stepped in to help.

“Alright, into the tub you go,” Jude said, lifting Ollie up and plopping him into the sea of bubbles.

Within seconds, Ollie was completely submerged, only his head and a mountain of bubbles visible above the surface. He giggled as he started splashing around, sending bubbles and water flying in every direction.

“Ollie! Gentle with the splashing!” you warned, dodging a particularly large splash that just narrowly missed your face. Ollie grinned mischievously. He threw a handful of bubbles at Jude, who was standing just a bit too close. Jude wiped the bubbles off his face, grinning.

“Oh, you want to play it that way, huh?” He grabbed a cup from the counter and scooped up some of the bathwater, threatening to pour it on Ollie’s head. Ollie shrieked in delight, ducking beneath the bubbles as Jude pretended to chase him with the cup.

“You two are going to flood the bathroom!” you said, laughing as you grabbed a towel to try and catch some of the water splashing over the edge of the tub. It was no use — by now, half the bathroom floor was soaked.

“Gotcha!” Jude finally managed to pour the water over Ollie’s head, earning another round of giggles from the little boy.

But then Ollie went quiet, his eyes narrowing as he smirked up at you. “Y/N, now it’s your turn!”

Before you could react, Ollie launched a fistful of bubbles right at you, hitting you square in the chest. You gasped, trying to look stern, but you couldn’t hold back the laughter.

“Alright, that’s it. You’re in trouble now!” You scooped up a huge pile of bubbles and gently tossed them at Ollie, who squealed in delight as the fluffy foam covered his face. Jude watched with a grin, clearly enjoying every second of the chaos.

“I think we’ve lost control of the situation,” he joked, shaking his head as more water sloshed onto the floor.

“Oh, we definitely have,” you agreed, but honestly, you didn’t mind one bit. Ollie’s laughter was contagious, and seeing Jude play along, completely carefree and happy, made your heart swell.

After what felt like an hour of splashing, giggles, and what could only be described as a bubble war, you finally managed to get Ollie cleaned up. He sat in the tub, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes as if the last hour hadn’t been complete chaos.

“Okay, time to get out now,” you said, reaching for a towel.

“But I don’t wanna get out! The bubbles are still here!” Ollie protested, scooping up another handful of bubbles. Jude knelt down beside the tub, giving Ollie a smile.

“We can have more bubbles next time, buddy. But if you don’t get out now, we won’t have time for a bedtime story.” Ollie’s eyes widened again at the mention of a bedtime story.

“A story?! Okay, okay, I’m getting out!” he said, quickly standing up and letting you wrap him in the towel. As you dried him off, Jude stood back, admiring the aftermath of what could only be described as a hurricane of bubbles and water. He grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You smiled up at him, leaning into his embrace as Ollie, wrapped in his dinosaur towel, skipped out of the bathroom, still buzzing with excitement.

“You sure you’re still up for that story?” you called after him, watching as he practically ran toward the living room. Jude looked down at you, raising an eyebrow.

“What do you think? You ready for round two?” You sighed dramatically but couldn’t help the grin spreading across your face. “I’m always ready if you are.”

With Ollie freshly bathed and wrapped in his cozy pajamas, you and Jude settled him onto the couch for what was promised, a bedtime story. His boundless energy had finally started to fade, though his excitement for the story was still evident in his wide eyes and toothy grin.

“Alright, buddy. What story are we reading tonight?” you asked, sitting down on one side of the couch as Jude took the other. Ollie squirmed in the middle, his little legs kicking restlessly as he looked up at you both, clearly relishing the attention.

“The dragon one! The one with the big, scary dragon!” Ollie announced, bouncing a little as he said it. Jude grabbed the book from the table, flipping through the pages dramatically.

“Ah, the one with the scary dragon. I see you like living dangerously.”

Ollie’s eyes grew wide, and he giggled. “I’m not scared of anything! I’m a superhero, remember?” He flexed his tiny arms, making you and Jude chuckle, referring to the superhero game he had made you play with him earlier.

“Of course,” you said with a grin. “Now let’s see how you handle dragons.”

Jude opened the book and began reading in an exaggerated voice, using different accents for the characters, making Ollie giggle uncontrollably. Every time Jude mimicked the dragon’s deep, growly voice, Ollie would cover his mouth in awe, eyes wide, but clearly loving every second of it.

You couldn’t help but watch Jude in admiration. He was amazing with kids, and it made your heart swell seeing him like this; so gentle, so fun, so effortlessly caring.

You caught yourself thinking about what he’d be like as a dad, the thought sneaking into your mind and making you smile to yourself.

“And then,” Jude continued, building up to the story’s climax, “the brave knight faced the dragon, sword in hand, ready to protect his kingdom!” His voice was filled with drama, causing Ollie to sit up straighter, his eyes glued to Jude.

“Did the knight win?” Ollie whispered, completely engrossed in the story.

Jude winked at him, lowering his voice. “What do you think, champ? Do you think the knight was brave enough to win?” Ollie nodded vigorously.

“Yeah! He’s brave, just like me!” Jude smiled, continuing the story with a heroic flair.

“The knight swung his sword and with one mighty swoop, the dragon was defeated!” Ollie clapped his hands, grinning from ear to ear.

“I knew it! The knight is the best!”

As the story reached its happy conclusion, you noticed Ollie’s eyes starting to droop, his earlier excitement finally giving way to sleepiness. His little body leaned against Jude, snuggling into his side as his breathing slowed.

“Looks like the knight’s biggest battle is staying awake,” you whispered, chuckling softly.

Jude smiled down at Ollie, gently closing the book. “Yeah, I think our superhero’s finally ready to call it a night.”

With Ollie half asleep, Jude carefully lifted him in his arms, cradling him with the ease of someone who had done this a hundred times before.

You followed them to the guest room, watching as Jude tucked Ollie into the little bed, pulling the blanket up to his chin. The little boy stirred for a moment, mumbling something about dragons before he drifted off completely.

You stood at the door, your heart practically melting at the sight. Jude leaned down, brushing a gentle hand over Ollie’s head before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

As you tiptoed out of the room, closing the door behind you, the silence of the house settled in. For a moment, neither of you said anything, both still caught up in the sweetness of the scene you’d just left behind.

Finally, Jude broke the silence, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You know, I could get used to this.” You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat.

“Used to what?” He shrugged casually, but there was something deeper in his eyes.

“This. You, me, taking care of a little one. It feels... nice.” Your chest tightened, warmth flooding through you at his words.

You leaned against the wall, trying to act nonchalant even though your heart was pounding. “You think?”

Jude nodded, his gaze soft and full of affection. “Yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Ollie’s a handful, but... I don’t know. When it’s us, it doesn’t feel hard. It feels like... like we could do this one day. For real.” You felt a lump form in your throat, not from nerves, but from the overwhelming sweetness of the moment.

He wasn’t just talking about babysitting — he was talking about a future. A real future. And that thought made your heart feel so full it could burst.

You smiled up at him, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’d make a pretty great dad, you know.” He reached out, gently pulling you into his arms, wrapping you in a warm embrace.

“Only if I get to do it with you.” Your heart swelled, the simplicity and sincerity of his words filling you with a quiet kind of happiness.

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you.

In that moment, as the two of you stood there in the quiet, everything just felt right. You could see it so clearly. The future you’d both only ever hinted at, the one you were both starting to realize you wanted. And as you stood there in each other’s arms, you knew without a doubt that this was exactly where you were meant to be.

[luvrxbunny]

emotional intimacy

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader 

Prompt: Dirty Talk

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smoking (weed), emotions, piv, unprotected sex, (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 1.8k

A/N: this general idea has been on my mind for so long omg (not proofread)

You take a long hit, impressing Eddie with how much smoke you exhale but bringing a smile to his face when you start coughing. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He laughs at you and takes the blunt from your hands. “Always think you’re some big ripper but can never handle.” He takes a hit. “The heat.” He raises his eyebrows at you as he exhales much more smoke than you had- without coughing. You giggle and push him over as you finish your water. “Shut it.”

You lean back and snuggle into his arm, feeling the immediate high from your last hit. He smiles at your action and the content sigh that leaves your lips once your face is pressed into his arm. He smokes the rest of the blunt while you lipsync along to the music he put on. “Can I tell you something? Cus- Well-” You sit up and tilt your body to face him at an angle. You have a shy look and a nervous little smile twitching on your lips. “I have something to say but- but it might be too soon or like um- maybe too much but I- It’s h-how I feel..?” He sits there confused for a moment, too high to figure out if you’re not making sense or he’s not understanding you. “Um... Yes?” 

You roll your eyes and laugh at him gently. “Do you wanna hear it? I- Cus you can’t get upset at what I say, get weird, or like- I don’t know be all awkward afterward… Okay?” He sits up straight, suddenly intrigued now that he understands what’s happening- you’re going to tell him a secret. He leans forward, pulls his knees up, and rests his chin on them with a curious sparkle in his eyes. He nods his head wildly, making his curls jump. “Mhm! Tell me, tell me.” You feel a surge of anxiety and excitement run through you as his eagerness. 

You take a deep breath and scoot closer to him, offering yourself a bit more comfort before beginning your statement. “I- “ You pause as your heart skips a beat, take a deep breath, and force yourself to continue with a nervous smile. “I really like you, Eddie.” His eyes widen and his head tilts like a confused puppy but he stays silent, waiting for more. “You’re just- ugh. You’re so cute and perfect and kind. You’re so nice to me I-” You cover your face at how wide your smile is getting. “You make me feel like- like there’s a sun inside of me, like there’s a bright light trying to break through that can like- that only you can ignite. I’m not sure if- I don’t think I’m making sense.” You giggle at yourself with your gaze down on the covers. “I wake up wanting to see you. I go to sleep wishing I spent more time with you. I- I hope and pray constantly that you’ll still like me the next morning and that I- I keep being your type and a girl that you wanna be with and-”

He kisses you, unfolding all his limbs and pulling you into his lips. You giggle happily into them, overjoyed that he’s taking your outpour of emotions so well. You caress his cheek and the back of his neck with your hands as he kisses you, moaning gently into the kiss before pulling away. “Sorry. Sorry, keep- keep going.” He’s panting and his face is red, cheeks beaming as he smiles at you expectantly, waiting to hear more. Your brain is a bit scrambled by the kiss, it’s oddly heated nature in such a heartfelt moment but you push through for Eddie. “Um. I think- I don’t think I could think up a better boyfriend if I tried, I- You’re everything I want, everything I need and more and- and you do it all without even trying! You’re just perfect for me.” You pause for a moment, coming to a certain realization that you would’ve held in normally, but the weed has lowered your inhibitions and Eddie is staring at you with his big, chocolate, puppy dog eyes and it’s too much to handle, the feeling is bursting inside your chest. “I- I just love you, Eddie.” You confess, staring right at him as you do to gauge his reaction. 

His eyes widen so much you begin to get self-conscious, worrying that you’ve gone too far, that you should’ve stopped, it’s too soon. His eyebrows furrow and his head tilts again. He reaches out for you slowly, taking your hand off the bed and slowly intertwining your fingers. “Are you- Are you sure? Are you being serious or- I mean” He chuckles sadly. “You’re pretty high right now, sweetheart.” Despite the fear of rejection, you feel the need to make your emotions crystal clear to Eddie. 

You shake your head vigorously, an adorable pout on your face as you glare softly at him. “Don’t say that, Eddie. You know I can still think clearly. I mean it. I didn’t know before- I just found out! But… that doesn’t make it any less true.” You state sternly, assuring that he believes every word you’re saying. His eyes flutter as his thumb strokes over your hand and he nods slowly. He leans back against the bed, pulling your hand with him and you almost fall on him. “Well. I love you too.” He had a proud smile on his face as he spoke but once his eyes met yours he could see the hesitation, so he made his feelings as clear as yours. “You’re the sweetest thing in my life, baby. You know that light you were talking about? The one that you say feels like a sun inside you? It’s you, baby. You’re the light. You light up my life and the lives of everyone around you. You-” He sighs and adjusts his position, lifting his hips before leaning further back, his eyes on the ceiling so his hair falls back over his shoulder and exposes his neck. “You never need to worry about being my type. You’re my everything. I can’t even look at other girls without comparing them to you, and none of them- none can even begin to match up.”

You feel your heart race as he speaks, and if we’re being honest… a little heat starts up in the base of your stomach, a little tingle between your legs as you take in all his feelings for you. “You’re the hottest, most prettiest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen in my fuckin’ life you-” His words become background noise as you admire him, his arms have come to cover his burning red face but the gesture has his shirt riding up, exposing his little happy trail and accentuating the way his stomach is tensing under his shirt. Your eyes keep moving, trailing down further and finally noticing the movement of his hips under the covers. “I can’t even go an hour without thinking about you and- You’re so- Baby, I love you so much- I can’t even put it into words. I’m- I don’t have the vocabulary for it. You-” He cuts himself off with a gasp as you pull the covers down further, revealing the painful-looking bulge in his pants. 

Your eyes widen at the sight but you’re not surprised, you’ve been feeling the same way. He’s sat up and staring at you as you stare at his crotch, already leaking at the sight. “I’m- I just- I’m kinda weird so- so you telling me you like me, and you- Fuck. You love me just- It turns me on? I don’t- It’s weird I know but I can’t help it, baby. You’re so fucking hot.” His words send a shiver down your spine as your hand leaves the blanket to palm his cock without a second thought. His head falls back as he grabs your wrist and pulls your hand closer, giving himself more pressure from your little hands. “Oh, please.” His eyes are in the back of his head, overly sensitive from his high and all your emotions. “Mm— not gonna last, sweetie. Wan- want you, gotta be inside you.” 

You’re climbing into his lap and undoing his pants before he can even finish his begging. His hands run up your arms to cradle your face and pull you in for a kiss while you pull his cock out. Goosebumps erupt over your body at his hands running over your skin, your high having turned all your senses up to eleven. You can feel your clit pulsing inside your panties as he pulls them to the side to help you line him up with your hole. “Yeah, lemme in, babes. Good girl.” He whispers to you as your slide onto his cock. 

His eyes flutter and try to roll to the back of his head as his cock slides into your warmth, your burning heat that consumes him until he’s filling you to the brim with his own. It feels different, being with you feels different now that you’ve told him the way you feel. He can tell you’re thinking the same thing, feeling the same thing by the way you're fucking yourself on him. You’re abusing yourself with his cock, arousal pummeling into his stomach every time his hips meet yours. “Sweetheart—” 

His nickname for you comes out as a whimper as he wraps his arms around your waist and his head falls into the nook of your neck and shoulder. He’s whimpering into your skin, his hips grinding up as best he can as you grip his hair and tighten around his cock. Your body is on lit, like a spark and Eddie is gasoline, he’s setting you alight. “I’m gonna cum, baby.” He groans raggedly at that, his hands gripping your hips, his blunt nails digging into your plush hips. “Good, good. Cum on me, my love.” His words send you over the edge and your orgasm pulls him with you. 

You shake over his cock as he moans into your ear, his tummy tenses against you as he starts to fill you with his cum. He pulls away from your neck to moan into your mouth as you moan into his, your wet lips ever parted over his. He can’t help the smile that comes onto his face as he examines your expression. You have soft tears in the corners of your shut eyes, your brows are furrowed and drawn inward as you come down from your peak but keep grinding into him slowly. He watches you twitch in overstimulation as his cock still cries into you. His cum has started to leak out of you, onto his sheets, and making a mess of both your thighs and he’s just kissing you.

There’s a smile on his lips as they press into yours, a chuckle sliding out and filling your mouth. You pull away with a hazy smile over your lips. “What?” You ask, your voice high and tired. His chest almost explodes with love at how gone you are, at how easily you give yourself to him. “That was the hottest dirty talk I’ve ever heard, baby.” You give him a shocked giggle and hit his chest as he wraps his arms back around you and falls back onto the bed, pulling you down with him. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

May I request some full HCs of the M6 with an ex coliseum fighter MC?

The Arcana HCs: M6 with an ex-Coliseum fighter MC

Julian

His first thought when he laid eyes on you after he broke into your shop was "wow, they must have some stories to tell!"

Oddly enough, the physical (and mental/emotional) scars you carry from your time in the Coliseum are big reasons for why he chooses to trust you - and, eventually to cherish you. You've been through it

As someone who's had quite the wild life himself, he can trust you to understand how difficult experiences do and don't define who you are. He knows if he talks about life with pirates, you'll get it

If it's his turn to have a nightmare, he doesn't have to worry that talking about his bad dreams will expose you to new horrors. If it's your turn, he's a light sleeper for good reasons

Tends to pry for stories about your time there, but in a good way that pushes you to process what it was like

Checked over all the scars you accumulated there and regularly asks after any lingering chronic pain from the injuries

Once he's gotten past the initial flirtatious comments and the awkwardness of opening up, he'd be lying if he doesn't find the scars and background very attractive. Rough him up anytime ~

Asra

They're in two minds about the whole situation and they're not totally sure how to proceed with it when discomfort isn't their thing

He's glad you're not there anymore. He often wonders if you coming back without memories was actually a merciful thing, if it meant not remembering the details of your trauma

They hate seeing all the marks of pain and violence on your body, because it's like a reminder to them of one of the many ways they somehow let you down or left you alone when you needed help

Deep down, however, it's beyond comforting to him to know what you're capable of surviving without help, because he knows he can't always be there for you no matter how hard he tries

They know that if you're ever in a situation again where your life is threatened, you'll fight viciously to preserve it. They hate that you experienced it and hope you never will again, but they're relieved

All that to say, he doesn't know how to talk about it and he's not going to broach the subject unless you do

Still committed to loving you and being open with you. They know you, they know you're good, and they want you to know them too

Nadia

When she first met you, she assumed the scars must have come from fighting in a war. The Coliseum didn't occur to her

She doesn't even have the clearest memories of it, since she only really saw it after being married to the man who instated it. That doesn't stop her from feeling immensely guilty about it

This happened to you while she had the power to push back against it, and she didn't. There was so much going wrong that she never addressed because she was holed up in her tower, hiding

That only spurs her to try to make things right. You do receive a halting but heartfelt apology from her early on, and a respectful invitation to share your experience with her at your comfort

Just as you've helped her to move on and recover, she wants to do the same for you. You have a powerful skill set. To the extent that you're willing to, she'd love to see you put it to noble use

How do you feel about teaching martial arts? She'll put you in touch with Nahara, and will help you fund a teaching studio for anyone who could use the coaching

Or you could be her personal bodyguard ...

Muriel

More than anything, he's just relieved he never had to kill you. He already has so much regret to live with, and the thought of ending the person who would've made life good again is horrific

That doesn't make you easy to be around at first. Everything about you brings back the memories he wants to leave behind

The scars that match his, the way you react to movement, even the way you walk to compensate for the drag of chains you don't wear anymore. You're the un-hateable mirror of everything that hurts

And that's just after the first few days. Truthfully, you scare him, and even after building a new life with you there are still moments when being perceived by you terrifies him, because you get him

You don't need words or confessions to understand the hell that's shaped him so profoundly. And even when he can't stand to carry someone else's pain on top of his own, he still understands yours

It's precisely that forced vulnerability that makes loving you so profoundly healing. He loves you for you, he loves you for the pain you've experienced, and since it's the same as his own, he's learning to love himself begrudgingly in the process

Portia

Not put off by you at all, which is extremely rare for you

She finds it attractive if anything. You look like someone who's really lived. You look like someone who gives as good as they get

It makes her a little uncomfortable to be around at first. She's so quickly caught up in the coolness and excitement of your violent past that she can get borderline insensitive with her questions

What's it like to be in a fight? Who's the biggest person you fought? Did you really have to kill all of your opponents? How many did you kill? Was there a lot of blood? What weapons did you use?

Does a complete 180 the first time she sees the emotional and mental toll it's taken on you. She's so empathetic, it takes all of five seconds for her to understand this is trauma before she's weeping

So very happy to be your anchor and grounding presence. She will hold you and grieve with you and never, ever, ever look at you differently for what you were a part of. You're not scary to her

Almost overprotective when it comes to how other people perceive you. Someone's acting like you're the scariest person in the room and making you uncomfortable? She's about to prove them wrong

Lucio

After spending three years as a goat ghost, he doesn't care who you are, just talk to him - oh, his survival depends on your good graces? And he had you stuck as a Coliseum fighter? Hmmm

Tried to hide it, but he was scared at first. He was smart enough to know that you had good reason to dislike him, and therefore plenty of reason to further mess him up in such a vulnerable state

But you didn't. Which made him confused. And curious

Tell him about your time there, then! What was it like being in the ring? Being a participant in his favorite fight of yours?

Oh. Oh, it was that bad? ..... oh.

He carries guilt for every painful repercussion you experience. It was shame, and now it looks more like remorseful responsibility, but he doesn't need it rubbed in his face to know it was wrong

What he also knows is a valuable lesson you taught him, which is both the importance and possibility of making things right

You will never have a nightmare he won't be ready to comfort you for. You will never have an injury he won't be getting his clothes dirty for treating it. You will always, always have him by your side

[enkvyu]

cicadas fill in the summer silence as you sit at your desk, waiting for class to start. you're vaguely aware of your three classmates seated beside you and perhaps it’s because you're caught in the ambiance of a perfect day, but something like sentimentality seeps in.

“today's the kind of day where i’m reminded how important you guys are to me.”

shoko hums, eye trained on her phone. “you’re reminded?”

“you forgot at some point?” gojo adds.

you groan as getou chuckles, the heartfelt speech dying immediately in your mouth. when he lightly presses you to continue, you wave away his feigned interest.

"but i'm curious!”

you jab your finger in shoko and gojo's direction, and the two ignore you as they continue playing multiplayer snake on their nokia 6610s. "blame those two."

getou grins. "if it’s anything, you mean a lot to me too."

you muffle a smile. "i changed my mind, you're the only one that means anything to me."

"fuck, i lost!" gojo exclaims, sliding back into his chair to throw a fit. "but i never lose, how is this possible? you cheated, shoko!"

"don't be a sore loser, that's even worse than being an ordinary loser."

"i wouldn't have lost if you didn't cheat!"

there's a hard glint in shoko's eye. "does that mean what i think it means?"

gojo leans in. "yes. that means another round."

you look over at them unamused. "any second now, yaga is going to walk into this room and complain our ears off for how noisy you two are being."

shoko yawns and you hear beeping as she plunges into another game. "it’s fine, we’ll know when he gets close enough to hear us anyway. he doesn’t walk, that man stomps down the corridor."

"he’s not the only one that’ll complain about the noise. i might join him in a minute if the two of you won’t shut up, it’s too hot for this." getou joins in, but no one pays him any mind.

"you're going down this time, shoko."

"eat my dust."

you catch gojo sparing shoko a quick glimpse before the starting music plays, and watch with interest as they flicker over to her again.

leaning back, you peer at shoko's screen as her desk was closest to yours, and find that she was once again slithering to victory, gobbling every apple she finds in her way. without a doubt, you were sure she would win.

"gojo," getou sighs. "you're really shit at games."

something bumps into shoko's side and she gives it a quick glance to find that it was gojo's elbow.

"sorry, my arm slipped." he says, but the smirk on his face suggests otherwise.

while shoko is not morally-just enough to condemn cheating, she's oddly passionate about games and thus her desire to win fair and square holds back her anger. she lets the action slide without a counterattack although that doesn't stop her from calling gojo trash.

but when gojo kicks the leg of her chair, causing her to fingers to tremble and miss an apple, she glares at him. "you're playing dirty!"

"i have no idea what you mean." gojo sings. "yes, i'm a point ahead! see what happens when you don't cheat, shoko? i guess that's why you have to do it, otherwise you would just lose lose lose all the time!"

you wince.

shoko clenches her phone harder and closes the point difference in a matter of seconds. but that alone is not enough to settle her irritation.

lifting her foot up, she slams her heel down hard on gojo's ankle and he yelps at the pain. "hey! now you're actually cheating!"

"so you admit i wasn't before!"

gojo doesn't answer and blatantly shoves at shoko's chair. she has to use a hand to steady herself, making her lose another apple and mess up her snake's path. in return, shoko hits gojo's face which presses his glasses in.

"hey!"

"you started this." shoko's victorious smile dims when gojo reaches for her phone and she pulls back just in time. "that's not fair!"

"you're only saying that now?" getou observes.

you look at him. "shouldn't we stop them?"

with gojo stretched out, trying to get shoko's phone, it leaves his stomach vulnerable. shoko rams her fingers into his side and he squeals at the sensation.

shoko yells your name over the chaos. "grab him!"

"getou, you have my back, don't you?" gojo says a second later.

the two of you stand instinctively as your names are called, but you both hover around helplessly. it's only when they say your names again, do you move.

gojo makes one more stretch for shoko's phone as you reach for him, only successfully managing to grab onto one of his wrists. it doesn't hold him back though, he still has his other hand after all, and now getou is beside shoko, hands out ready to tickle her.

shoko giggles slightly when getou's fingers meet their target and it might have been an opening if you hadn't clung onto gojo, pulling him back with your entire weight.

"get off me!" he says to you over his shoulder.

you look back, somewhat confused at your own actions. "no?"

shoko pulls back her arm holding her phone, jamming her elbow into getou's chest. though it doesn't hurt, he steps back anyway. "what are we doing?"

the struggle continues for a few seconds more until the classroom door is pulled to the side with a bang and someone steps through.

the shock of the sudden sound makes shoko loosen her grip and gojo catches that weakness. the tips of his fingers barely grazes her phone and with a final push, and an extension of his infinity, he knocks the phone from her hand.

he knocks the phone from her hand, too hard.

you watch in suspended awe as the object flies across the room in a beautiful arc—

"good morning—"

and hits yaga in the face. it rebounds off his cheek and clatters noisily on the ground. shoko ducks down as the three of you freeze in position, picking up her phone and pocketing it safely.

anger makes yaga's head burn bright red. "who did that?"

calmly, you sit back into your chair and hear the sound echo beside you. without saying a word, the three of you point to gojo.

"yaga! in my defence, shoko was cheating!"

you don't need to look to know yaga had crossed the room and landed a solid fist on gojo's head, his quick cry of pain is alone enough.

yaga fixes his sleeves and clears his throat. "are we ready to start class?"

cicadas chirp from outside your window, and the noise drowns into the bustling hum of a familiar routine. yaga picks up a piece of chalk and turns his back to the class, getou tucks away his bangs from getting in his eyes and shoko yawns into her hand. gojo sinks deeper into his chair, sulking, and you know that even without mentioning your appreciation for them, they could feel it just like how you felt theirs.

it surrounds you like the summer humidity.

dialogue prompt taken from going seventeen episode 61. just some quick silly sashisu + reader stuff because i miss them.

[kalims]

sugar

flushed — when you fluster them and how they act.

do you want a 'kiss' — not an actual kiss, the chocolate.

falling (asleep) — you fall asleep on their shoulder.

w/ malleus draconia

commissioned by paru !

flushed — when you fluster them and how they act.

typically if it was anyone else, they'd have a really hard time to gauge out a reaction from malleus when the most they'll get is probably a barely evident crease, or raise in his brows.

in this case tis our very lovely mc who malleus is very much already on the ground from how fast he fell. you could do just about anything, give him a rock or something, and he’ll thank you eternally and keep it in a room above the most eccentric gifts he's ever gotten.

(god forbid if sebek ever enters, and sees some random rock on a pedestal meanwhile his gifts for the master is just.. there on some table like malleus didn't even think twice to leave it there then worship that rock!)

^ well thankfully, out of respect. sebek believes that someone like him simply is not privileged enough to enter the room of his esteemed master.

anything remotely affectionate from you would definitely send malleus to cloud nine for the whole day, he's practically emitting comical hearts every second you're together. they're trailing after him as he's following you around.

so you have a variety of choices! a heartfelt compliment, a hug, maybe even a kiss. whatever you choose will only feed on the overflowing glass that's called; 'malleus' love for mc'. trust me if you think he's like 67% in love with you, you're WRONG.

it's actually 101% and it's still increasing I swear 😭 

well the glass I was talking about is probably overflowing right now, and it's also probably going to start drowning everyone.

as in… everyone's just stuck to witness malleus' insanely endearing reactions to your shenanigans. should they be scared that malleus would probably do it in a heartbeat if you asked to take over the world??

yeah they should tbh.

in this case, I believe a close hug then a whisper in his ears would really make that arrow hit straight to his heart. you can't just whisper 'doritos' though! /j but you shall instead proclaim your love for him instead with a single 'I love you'.

it's funny to see his face completely freeze. you can practically hear his brain absolutely blowing up. there's a wobbly grin stretching across his face, the tip of his ears turn a shade of pink.

he looks… shy, but oddly pleased.

hellour congratulations malleus will not stop till you're both bound for life 💀 trust me he won't take anyone else if it isn't you anymore. he loves you THAT much.

malleus is not aware of the feeling blooming in his chest, it's foreign. he could even describe it as addictive. he's clueless really, but what he's sure of is that he wonders if you'd feel that too if he did the same to you.

oh well.. you've exposed him to such a euphoric feeling. it's only natural for him to return the favor. 

so honestly just expect him to be the rizzlord for the rest of your existence, he's rizzing you up every chance he can get. and the fact that most of it is just him not trying at all, and just being himself.

which is also funny cause when he does try to 'charm' you it ends up in fail.

like who let him bring you the 'rewards of his hunt' as a courting offering.

and when he tries to recite a letter he wrote for you, it's very endearing, and flattering but he's been talking for quite a long time now and you're concerned.

do you want a 'kiss' — not an actual kiss, the chocolate.

*malleus holding a big ass bowl* yes pls

^ but that's if he knows it's chocolate, and still wants the legit kiss. in a way that's the amount he'd want if it was the real deal.

not that he does know! cause malleus isn't exactly educated in the chocolate culture. as horrifying as it sounds, i doubt he snacks on chocolate in his free time.

I guess he didn't have much time to be a child :(.

he's tasted it before though! but knowing specific brands doesn't really cross his mind. for malleus chocolate is just chocolate. 

so he definitely doesn't know that there's a brand of chocolate called kisses.

so when you ask him if he wants a kiss he's like: yes. IMMEDIATELY. 

ok maybe not immediately but he gives you this certain look, and when he registers your silence at his face he realizes that you're being serious. 

malleus rn: well I mean ur offering so 

WHEN DID HE EVEN FINISH EATING A MINT CANDY.

jokes aside it's almost sad to think how he'll react when it's in fact, not a kiss.

when you pull out some kind of thing wrapped around in some kind of foil and place it inside malleus' palm he's just confused. where are his kisses?? why are you giving him this thing??

malleus spots the 'kisses' label on it and blanks.

oh.. so that's what you meant.

okay he's happy to receive anything from you but that's foul play!

but he really likes you so he won't comment on it 😞 you didn't even elaborate so it's partially his fault for jumping into conclusions.

no one can explain, not even you when there's a visible aura radiating off malleus. something gloomy, and he won't tell you even if you point out that you've noticed him constantly glancing at your face.

well your lips but you also don't know that.

falling (asleep) — you fall asleep on their shoulder.

would refuse to move at all.

first of all, he's honored that you trust him this much to lower your guard, and fall asleep on him. malleus is aware, sorta. he doesn't stop talking but instead slows down his words.

he doesn't want to wake you up, does he?

so he just settles on rambling in hopes that even in your dreams, his voice would reach you. you'd dream of him day, and night.

but when he's done malleus makes very little movement, hyper aware that you've fallen asleep on him. so when he finally assumes a position most comfortable for you, (plus one where he wouldn't crane his neck too much to peer at you) and he just stares.

he's done this plenty of times when you were awake so he doesn't know why he's doing it now. maybe it's because he sees you awake every time, and when you were, he could see the slightest bit of exhaustion present in your eyes.

this way he can be at peace knowing you are.

he recalls your certain features, he'd love to just gaze into your eyes right now and see himself in it but the fact that he can feel all your weight on him is better than anything he's ever felt before. 

cold, rainy days in nrc are just a blessing from grace.

but you now just discover that rain here is a lot stronger than your local pour back at home. to make everything worse, you had no idea it was gonna rain this hard, and if you did you wouldn't have taken the time to visit the city on a sunday.

now you're stuck waiting under a cover outside a shop. your patience honestly starting to run thin. from your legs sincerely, you're immensely thankful for the random bench under it cause you're sure they would have been quaking from the amount of time you spent waiting.

but you do like the weather, cold weather is rare to see when the sunny days reign over many.

you should have brought a jacket or something.

"child of man?"

you blink when malleus tilts his head at you, a thin smile playing upon his lips. his shoulders seem to ease up at the sight of you. your eyes fly above him, weirdly enough it's like there's some invisible force protecting malleus from the weather so he's completely dry.

albeit weakly, you still make an effort to give him a half hearted wave. 

of which he notes.

malleus makes his way over to you, and your beloved bench you had started acquainting yourself with. "may I?" he gestures beside you, and you take that as an initiative to move over.

he takes a seat next to you right after.

"how are you faring?" his eyes crinkle, he stares deeply into you. 

you chuckle. "well I'm stuck here for a while I guess. I already miss my bed,"

the man beside you raises his brow before lightly raising his shoulder, leaning towards you a little for emphasis but you're sure that's just another excuse to take up more of your space.

you get what he's implying in a second. "oh no, no," you shake your head. that would be… embarrassing. 

but your yawn betrays you, and malleus easily coaxes you into using his shoulder. with or without your will, you can't even remember what happened until you blearily open your eyes, and realize the rain has passed by.

when you wake up you feel like you've had the best sleep in your life. but you're sure you would have frozen to death by now.

your hands feel the fabric between your fingers, previously taken over your shoulders. ah.

… as well as a pair of eyes staining into your existence.

wc. 1.5k

[swan2swan]

ALSO IT COULD HAVE BEEN PAIRED WITH THIS YASAMMY BIT...

Oof.

Looking at this scene.

They could have easily swapped Darius with Brooklynn here. Woulda really helped lay the foundation for the Brookenji relationship in the next season.

[soaplickerrr]

Accidentally Coincidental

CHAPTER 9 (click pictures for better quality)

|⇠Previous | Next ⇢|

a/n: updates will be slow, i'm working on a pretty long fic on my side blog.

pairing: Idol!Kim Seungmin x Fem! CollegeStudent!Reader

genre: contemporary romance

SMAU

synopsis: Y/N, a regular college student accidentally texts Seungmin, a star in the K-pop group Stray Kids while trying to text her Ex, Soonyoung to come pick up his things, leading to an unexpected connection that blossoms into a heartfelt romance.

ignore time stamps, dates (other than the ones mentioned during texting) and typos

THERES A WRITTEN PART, DO NOT JUST SCROLL THROUGH THE PICS!

WARNING: I think Seungmin took something this chapter, he’s a littleeeeee too confident.

It was late, again. The usual time for you and Sky to talk. You found yourself smiling down at your phone, heart racing slightly. Even after everything that had happened, there was still a little mystery between you. His teasing messages, his encouragement, and his strange ability to push you out of your comfort zone while also making you laugh, it was becoming the highlight of your days. Today felt like it was heading toward something different, though. There was a shift in the air.

Your phone buzzed.

Seungmin rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the small smile spreading across his face. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

——

The next day was bright and clear, the perfect background to what seemed like a major turning point in your life. You had been nervous all morning, playing the texts between you and Sky in your head over and over.

Now it was real, this mystery guy who had inched his way into your heart through long nights of conversation was finally about to show himself.

You stood in front of the mirror and arched a brow, smoothing down your outfit. You had chosen something simple, comfortable, yet still nice. It wasn't like this was some formal date or anything, at least you didn't think it was- but the butterflies in your stomach were telling you a whole different story. Your hands slightly shook as you applied just a touch of lip gloss and then checked the time. 2:45 PM. Fifteen minutes until you were supposed to meet him.

You took one last deep breath, grabbed your bag, and turned towards the door with your heart pounding.

Just a small walk from your apartment, but the distance felt like forever to get to the café. How would he look? Would he be as charming in person as he was over text? Would you even recognize him? And more importantly- what if things were awkward? What if all the chemistry you'd felt over the phone disappeared the moment you met?

You reached the café exactly at 2:58, your palms sweating while you pushed the door open. The soft clinking of coffee cups and the hum of quiet conversation met your ears, but you only heard the beating of your heart. You scanned the room, your eyes landing on table number 7 in the back corner- just as he had said.

Your breath caught. There he was.

A guy with short dark hair concealed by a black cap was sitting at the table casually, wearing a black jacket, a black wife beater under, and jeans.

He looked up just about the time you came in, and the instant your eyes met, he smiled. You couldn't see his mouth as it was covered by a mask, but you could clearly see the smile that reached his eyes.

And in that instant, you realized. Those eyes are oddly familiar.

Your feet seemed to be walking across the room on their own accord, your mind racing.

He stood as you approached the table, with that very same playful grin on his face.

"Hey," he said, his voice low but warm. "Guess it's time for me to finally collect on that kiss, huh?"

You couldn't help but laugh, the bubbles rising up inside you as you sat.

You recognized that voice, and you knew who he really was, but you were not one bit disappointed.

"Well," you said, trying to keep your voice level, "I did promise, didn't I?"

“Sit down, unless you want everyone to see old-regular-me kissing THEE Kim Seungmin.”

I genuinely don’t like this wtf🧍

TAGLIST - CLOSED - if your name is in pink, I couldn't tag you

🏷️: @disasterousdangerousbi @akitfffr @alexateurmom @jeonginplsholdmyhand @sunarins-whore @feelikecinderella @minniesuperversee @istglevi-gotmesimping @dreamerwasfound @whiteghostt @your-favorite-pirate @pnutbutter-n-j-elyy @chuuyaobsessed @ihrtlix @onlyhyunjin @jisuperboard @dazzlingjade @sellomaybe @lixiesbrownies333 @kkamismom12 @iatemycatfreckles @puppyminnnie @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @ayyonoona @missvanjii @jc003 @dontwannaexsist @everglowdaisies

[addictofanimation]

A Kaeya Possible Death Headcanon...

If Kaeya were to suffer from the curse and be coming closer to death, I can see him seeking warmth like the Hilichurls did. He would cuddle with either/both Diluc and/or Klee and they would hold him until his final breath would come and he would go slack in their hold.

Makes it even worse if he doesn't even know he's dying. Just that he can't stay warm or retain any warmth at all.

This could also possibly be applied to Amber and Bennett. I can see them being last resorts if he simply couldn't bare the cold. He would go to Amber if he felt she wouldn't say anything about it because it's awkward for both of them. I can see Bennett being the one to notice Kaeya seems oddly cold and offers to use his Vision to warm him up.

Of course, all of them inevitably freak out when they realize he just died in their arms. Klee would be the one most likely to not realize Kaeya was dead and calling for Jean because "big brother Kaeya fell asleep". She doesn't understand why Jean starts crying and holding Kaeya in her arms or why Lisa and Amber are barely holding back tears. But Klee begins to freak out too because she starts to realize something is seriously wrong when everyone is clearly upset. She starts crying too when she tries to wake Kaeya up, telling him that he's starting to scare everyone because he's sleeping too hard, only to not get an answer.

I still think Diluc would have the strongest reaction, though. Maybe Kaeya showed up at the manor one day and desperately asks if he can stay in his room for the night. Diluc, noticing something is off, lets him. When he goes to check on Kaeya after a brief talk with Adelinde, he finds him bundled in his old blankets and looking like a caterpillar in a cocoon. He starts to get worried when he realizes that he can see Kaeya's breath. He tells Adelinde to call for Barbara and Albedo and tries to get Kaeya to talk to him but Kaeya is practically shaking the bed with his shivers. He gets under the blankets with Kaeya and uses his Vision to warm up the space under the blanket and breathes a sigh of relief when his brother's shivers subside. Of course, they have their typical stunted talk that eventually becomes a heartfelt conversation that they don't know will be their last.

Eventually, they become quiet for some time before Diluc realizes that Kaeya isn't breathing. Que the freak out as he desperately tries to wake Kaeya up but nothing is working. His screams aren't answered by his brother and instead with the doors to Kaeya's room slamming open with Albedo standing in the doorway, looking like he had run the entire way here. One look, however, and Albedo hangs his head and Diluc knows.

All he can do is hug his brother close as he cries and mourns what could have been.

[megzscribbleznwordz]

The Aqua Teens And Love Languages!

this is kinda a mix between drabbles and headcanons? Idk... I wrote it so you can interpret it as either humanized or not, so go wild!

Frylock:

Quality Time: Oh goodness, please offer to help him with his research, I feel like he’d love to have a lab partner. Even if science isn’t your thing, he just appreciates the fact that you’re taking time to spend time with him doing something he loves. Does the same for you too, asking questions about your hobbies and interests. He definitely does research into your hobbies in his free time.

Words of affirmation: The king of oddly specific, somewhat weird compliments. Things like “you have a beautiful brain”, “your skin is so smooth”, things like that.

Physical Touch: Definitely more touchy than you’d expect. Not super into PDA, but definitely needs to be holding your hand like all the time. Eating dinner? Holding your hand. Sitting with the other Aqua Teens? Holding your hand. Any time anywhere he can, he will be.

Acts of Service: Frylock is big on acts of service. Be something simple, like tidying up your shared room; helping do daily chores; making a meal; or more complex things, like proactively helping you solve problems you bring to him if he feels like it’s in his capability.

Giving/Receiving Gifts: Definitely gives gifts of use. Accessories, books, materials related to your hobbies; Clothes and accessories that fit your aesthetic, things like that. Goes all out for valentine’s day, I feel like he’s a romantic at heart.

Master Shake:

Quality Time: Big one for outings. Loves places like arcades, retro gaming stores, bowling…Any sort of games you can play together he’s down for. Loves playing any sorts of games with you. Also a sucker for domesticity, He’d never really imagined himself to be a sappy sort, but something about chill days in cuddling and watching TV really brings a warmth to his heart.

Words of Affirmation: I feel like he’s not the type to give big dramatic heartfelt declarations of love… His affection really shows in how frequently he compliments you. Even little things, like I like the way that shirt looks on you, your hair looks cool today, things like that. He’s not the polite sort, and doesn’t really complement anybody but you.

Physical Touch: Oh my god he’s so grabby. Walking past him? You get a smack on the butt. Standing beside him? Definitely either have a hand on your waist or butt. Sitting next to each other? Definitely tries to coax you into sitting on his lap. The most smug asshole about it, too.

Acts of Service: He’ll only do things for you. He may grumble a bit about it depending on the task, but it will end up done (Probably better than you expected). I personally headcanon that he’s secretly a good cook, and he definitely puts his entire heart into trying to make you the best damn dinner around. Cooking is one of the few tasks he does without needing to be asked, and he only does it for you. Like, pointedly only cooks enough food for you two so you don’t need to share with Frylock or Meatwad.

Giving/Receiving gifts: He’s a bit of a material girl, loves receiving gifts. He really tries with gifts, but it ends up being something a bit odd. A book with a title that made him laugh, a poster for a movie you talked about exactly 1 time, things like that. He knows his own skill though, and typically gets traditional gifts for you. Think plushies, candy, flowers, the works.

Meatwad:

Quality time: Loves, loves, loves when you read him books! He can read on his own, but something about the way your voice sounds when reading aloud is so comforting to him. Please let him show you all his toys, it’ll make little man’s day. Dream Date? MC Pee Pants concert. Loves sharing the things he likes with you, and hearing about the things you like! Will definitely demand to join you next time you partake in a hobby. 

Words of Affirmation: Gives you the sweetest compliments ever. Like, your hair is so soft, your laugh is so cute, I like the way that you smile. He doesn’t go out of his way to flatter you, but simply states them when he thinks them. Very cutely awkward when it comes to receiving them, very bashful and blush. 

Physical Touch: Very cuddly. Like, whenever you guys are just hanging out he wants to hold you/be held by you. A bit more of a little spoon due to being generally smaller than most people, but absolutely loves wrapping himself around you in a close embrace. Takes after Frylock in the way he needs to hold your hand constantly.

Acts of Service: Very much a sucker for the classics. Things like holding doors for you, carrying your bags whenever you two are shopping together, trying to do all the ‘manly’ tasks for you, etc. 

Giving/Receiving gifts: Biggest maker of homemade gifts right here. Draws you, buys beads and makes you jewelry, writes and makes up stories for only you, even trying to make simple treats for you (Fudge, brownies, things like that.)

[izvmimi]

a/n: this is tongue-in-cheek. being married to a pro hero can sometimes grate on your nerves if they’re not made of steel. cw brief child mention.

the first thing you notice before you park your car that Friday night is that your mailbox is full to bursting -

and that’s not even an exaggeration. 

katsuki gets a lot of fanmail - drawings from kids who are inspired by the pro hero Dynamight and heartfelt greeting cards from the families of people he’s saved (and even those he’s regrettably failed to save), but despite how reassuring those can be, there are a few that get on your last nerve no matter how gracious you try to be:

the characteristic perfume-scented letters by the most annoying fan club he has - Dynamight’s Damsels.

there’s already a zero in creativity for the name, but it’s less about them being lame and more about the sheer audacity of it all. you’re not exactly sure how they manage to find every single place your husband has lived in since he became an official pro, and you’re not exactly sure why it’s legal to stalk anyone to this extent, let alone a married man, but there’s not much you can do about it - sending lightly used panties is apparently not a crime, nor is writing fanfiction that poorly characterizes him, even if it is graphic. it’s weird, no one will argue that, but not illegal. and especially given his level of fame and adoration, is to be expected.

but sometimes there’s a limit. today they’ve gone full force and sent many packages on top of letters, probably because it was his birthday last week and the mailman had the kindness to hold off on the nonsense until your private festivities died down. picking up as many letters as you can carry in your handbag, you plug your nose and make it into your house. 

katsuki’s come back early today, and has your sleeping baby girl tied to his back while he prepares dinner; even though his back is turned, you know he knows you’ve returned.

he turns and grins, and then his smile immediately fades when he can see the frown on yours.

“what’s wrong, princess?”

“your harem misses you, katsuki,” you reply, keeping your voice sickeningly sweet. with that, you dump what looks like a sea of letters, all with a classic seal, ‘DD’, in cursive, onto the dinner table and he immediately starts fussing at you before realizing he’s going to wake the baby and dropping his voice.

“don’t put that shit on the table! we don’t know where it’s been!” he says in a hushed yet harsh tone.

“why are you worried? your girls would never poison you,” you grin, but your smile doesn’t completely reach your eyes. “they are sooooo in love with you after all.” you roll your eyes and shake out your bag, lest an expensive bra fall out or an oddly familiar assumption about the man you married.

he groans, and turns dinner once, then lowers the heat and moves over to collect the envelopes and toss them in the automatic trash bin.

“stop getting mad at me for their behavior. it’s not like this shit isn’t affecting me too,” he quips. then he walks over to you, frowning again, but differently this time, and you can tell he’s waiting for something.

“what?” you ask, holding onto the strap of your purse. you’re pouting and he’s pouting and you’re both standing in the kitchen and dinner will be ready in 30.

“where’s my kiss?” 

you narrow your eyes.

“ask katsukispuppy.” you reply, cruelly before walking past him.

“BABE!”

[avocado-writing]

notes: I did a lot of research for this and yes, the manuscript I reference is a real thing. I didn’t put its name in though because that felt a step too far 😂 set in the light, the dark, and the spaces in between after ch3 so hope that’s ok! requests like this give me life.

relationship: aziraphale x immortal!reader x crowley

rated: G, pure fluff

word count: 1.4K

if you like my work you can buy me a kofi!

You’re the one who makes the tea. 

That’s because you’re the only one who changes how you have it: sometimes you fancy a chai, or a green tea, or a lapsang souchong. Sometimes with sugar or a little bit of milk, sometimes with neither, sometimes with an oat alternative. It changes. You’re human, you go through phases. 

But Aziraphale and Crowley? Nah, they’re creatures of habit. Despite the angel’s wide and experimental palate he’s oddly rigorous when it comes to his cuppa. For him, it’s loads of milk and four sugars, drowned to the point where it could hardly be called tea any more. Crowley likes his black and strong and nowhere near anything that could affect the taste. You wring the teabag tortuously into his mug with a teaspoon before grabbing all three servings and heading into the shop. 

You put yours down first, on the side next to the book you’re currently reading, then hand your husbands theirs. They both take them from you in the same way, the way they have done for centuries now, a domestic ritual: accepting the mug you offer and then your hand, pressing a little kiss of thanks and affection to the back of it. 

A heartfelt  intimacy just between the three of you. 

☕️ 

“Hurry Crowley, it’s starting!”

“Yes, yes, alright angel, hang on.”

“We won’t hang on and we’re not pausing it. Not a threat, just a fact,” you call into the kitchen. A couple of seconds later, Crowley emerges from the kitchen with three wine glasses and a bottle of Pinot Grigio. 

“I’ll be mother, then,” he mutters as the other two of you barely take your eyes off of the telly. You’ve got your legs slung over Aziraphale’s lap and he only takes a break from stroking your knee in absentminded, loving circles to take the proffered glasses from his husband, one for himself and one for you. Crowley plonks down the other side of Aziraphale and throws his own legs over him too, the two of you playing footsie for space across his plush thighs. Eventually the three of you find a comfortable pile and settle in. 

“Another ten weeks of torture begins,” Crowley says as the Bake-off theme ends and the show starts. You nudge him with your toe. 

“You don’t have to watch it with us,” you tell him. He harrumphs but doesn’t argue because, really, of course he’ll watch it with the two of you. It makes you both happy. 

🍞 

Your work is as a consultant for museums around the country, which is a fun way of saying you get paid a lot because you know a lot. But mostly, you only know a lot because you’ve been around for a very long time. So whenever a shard of pottery or a scrap of clothing needs dating they call you to come and put its history into context. 

Also, for the bigger museums, it’s a chance for you to smuggle out the stolen artefacts and return them to their country of origin. You consider it a hobby, a bonus perk of the job. 

You’ve set up this exhibition. It’s for pottery around the end of the Roman rule in Britain, stuff you’ve found and identified around the country on archaeological digs. You lead Crowley and Aziraphale through, discussing your findings in detail, before you come to a small, surprisingly intact, terra sigillata oil lamp. It sits on its own, spot lit. You asked for it that way. 

“See this? I made this. Over a thousand years ago,” you tell them, quietly, gently putting your hand to the glass of the display case. Aziraphale and Crowley take a careful look at the engraving on the object. It bears the profile of a man, and with the sharp cheekbones and little glasses there’s only one person it could be. 

“Oh, Nightingale. It’s lovely,” Crowley says, surprisingly touched. He wraps an arm around you and buries his face into your hair. 

“You could say I’ve held a flame for you for a long time,” you say, and grin. Crowley groans. 

“Did you put my face on a lamp just to keep that pun up your sleeve?”

“Maybe.”

🔥 

You next return to the museum when you pick up that Aziraphale is jealous. He isn’t jealous often but he’s pants at hiding it, and it’s not hard to guess why: he’s just seen that Crowley stuck with you for such a long time you put his face on a piece of bloody pottery. You’d probably be a bit put out too. 

So for a couple of weeks you throw yourself into your work to find the thing that will make it even. And you do, even though it takes a lot of overseas bargaining and promises to do some pro-bono work. 

You finally get the museum in America to agree to send it over for a showing. You arrange a special exhibition specifically for this, where it’s held behind a huge glass case in a dark room with only a small light on it. 

But you get special access because, well, you’re you. So you sneak Aziraphale and Crowley in one night and walk into the display room, wearing a face mask and a pair of protective gloves. 

There it sits: the Canterbury Tales. One of the oldest versions in the world. 

“Oh, this is wonderful!” Aziraphale gasps, peeping over your shoulder to inspect. “I can feel the adoration coming off of it in waves. This was a labour of love, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. I’d let you have it for the shop if I had the power. But I think they’d notice if I shoved this one down my top,” you sigh, scanning the pages for what you’re after, then stop dead when you find it. 

“Here. Look.”

You point to one of the illustrations, a mounted rider on a beautiful white horse. Aziraphale takes in a quiet breath and draws closer. Because just as plainly as you put Crowley on your oil lamp, you drew your angel in the Canterbury Tales. Curly hair, pink face, beaming smile. 

“Oh my,” he whispers. You stroke the little picture and remember toiling away over painting it, repeatedly wiping your brow to make sure your sweat didn’t smudge your work. 

“I put you in all the copies I could get my hands on. And you,” you turn to Crowley, “your face is probably buried on my pottery in a dozen dig sites across the UK. I’m just saying I’ve loved the two of you since the day we met; always have, always will.”

Your husbands look at each other and then at you, before as one they step forward to embrace you. 

“And we’re lucky to have you,” Crowley whispers in your ear, as Aziraphale kisses your cheek. Their hands meet at your back and they interlace their fingers with each other, you wrap your arms around them and stay like that for a moment; three working parts of a whole. 

They kiss, and then they kiss you. You feel warm and rosy. Then you spend the evening reading through the book from beginning to end. 

📖 

You keep your wedding ring on a chain around your neck at work. Not because you’re embarrassed that you're married; far from it - it’s far too precious to risk losing while constantly taking protective gloves on and off all day. So you don’t blame your colleague for asking you on a date. He’s young, fresh out of uni, and of course has no idea you’re old enough to be his grandparent forty times over. 

“That’s very kind,” you tell him, and his face falls because he knows where this is going, “but I’m already happily married.”

He sighs in embarrassment but manages to recover quickly, instead telling you: “they must be someone special to have you.”

He’s doing the polite thing by not assuming the gender of your spouse but it turns out “they” is right on the money. On cue, Aziraphale and Crowley walk through the door to pick you up at the end of your shift. You wish your colleague goodbye and go to meet them. 

“Evening, darling,” Crowley calls. 

“How was work, my love?” Aziraphale follows up. 

“Oh, fine. I’m tired now. And hungry. Can we go and get dinner?”

You link an arm through either of theirs, heading out into the London afternoon. 

“Ooh yes, that is a good idea. I quite fancy fish and chips!”

“Let’s go to that spot round the corner. They make their own tartar sauce. Crowley, are you getting your own chips or nicking mine when I’m not looking?”

“The best tasting chips are the ones you steal.”

“Oh, he doesn’t even deny it—!”

Your colleague watches you leave the building, a little dazed, and supposes it takes all sorts to make a world. 

Taglist: @angiestopit @dazed-soul @idontmeanto @smile-eywa @staygoldsquatchling02 @underratedboogeyman @specter-soltare @candlewitch-cryptic @cool-ontherun-world @emilynissangtr @willbedecided @cool-iguana @bdffkierenwalker

[extra-v1rgin]

Love languages - Rengoku, Tomioka, Uzui, Iguro, Shinobu, & Mitsuri

wanted to write something quick because my current projects won’t be done for awhile and I feel bad about not posting ;-; Also love languages aren’t real but shhhhh it’s ok

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°☆

Rengoku:

Giving - Words of Affirmation

He’s not very smooth with words but as one might expect from Rengoku he is very enthusiastic. Mostly it’s simple things, saying “I love you!” or “You look so pretty!” If you ask him to elaborate he will but the man gets very flustered.

Receiving - Physical Touch

I think Rengoku likes very gentle touches. He’s “on” 99% of the time and has a lot of trouble relaxing but if you trace his face or run your fingers through his hair then he can melt into your touch. He likes recieving physical affection at any time but it’s most relaxing for him if you set aside time where he has to be quiet and doesn’t have anything weighing on his mind.

Tomioka:

Giving - Gifts

Giyuu doesn’t see himself as someone with very much worth so offering up himself in any way doesn’t feel like he’s actually giving you something (even if you insist otherwise). If he gives you physical items then it’s something concrete and seen as valuable by others too. They’re very heartfelt though. It’s not pointless trinkets it’s something you can use often.

Receiving - Quality Time

On the flipside Tomioka sees you as someone with a lot of value. He’s happy with physical touch or talking too but he’s not always good at deciphering what things might mean if you’re not direct. It’s not that he’s happier when you’re quiet but if things are quiet then he doesn’t have to work to figure anything out.

Uzui:

Giving - Acts of Service

Sort of a double-sided thing for Uzui. Mostly it’s out of love for you/his wives but he does enjoy the praise he gets for it as well. Part of the reason he likes getting the praise though is because he knows that means you appreciated it (And so on and so forth). It’s something about providing for his lovers that makes the man feel good.

Receiving - Gifts

Is that a surprise? He loves getting gifts. They gotta be big and flashy but other than that he doesn’t care about the price or if you just picked it up randomly. Not to say he doesn’t like heartfelt gifts, but just that he likes anything that made you think about him.

Iguro:

Giving - Gifts

Just like Tomioka he doesn’t see himself as someone of value, so again anything that comes from him looses value because of that. He’s much more meticulous than Giyuu though. Giyuu buys anything that makes him think of you whereas Obanai spends weeks looking at different shops for the perfect item. You mention your shoes are wearing out? He will buy you the most expensive most durable pair to ever be made and they will fit you absolutely perfectly.

Receiving - Gifts

Oddly enough he also enjoys getting gifts. It’s a sign that you were also thinking about him. But while he likes buying you things Iguro enjoys getting handmade or smaller scale things from you.

Shinobu:

Giving - Quality Time

Shinobu is a busy woman so she sometimes struggles to make time for her partner. At the same time trying to fill that gap with gifts or little notes doesn’t feel the same. She has to find time to probably sit down with you and cuddle or talk.

Receiving - Acts of Service

As mentioned she’s very busy, so if you do anything to help lighten her load then she feels a weight off her chest. Even if it’s something small like making the bed or cleaning her desk she feels so relieved. Depending on your skills you may help out with medical things too. These moments are especially nice for her because Shinobu also considers you helping her wrap bandages as quality time.

Mitsuri:

Giving - Physical Touch

No surprises here either. She loves squishing you, hugging you, cuddling. If she could pick you up and carry you forever she would. Even if you weren’t big on touch I think she’d be just as happy to curl up against your side barely touching you. She also enjoys doing your hair or having you do hers.

Receiving - Words of Affirmation

Mitsuri has become a lot more confident in herself but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like hearing kind words, especially in moments of weakness. She trusts you a lot so if you say she’s beautiful then Kanroji will very much believe you. Whether you’re complimenting her appearance or her cooking or her fighting skills she gets so excited. If something particilarly catches off guard then you should expect a lot more hugging alongside a dozen thank you’s.

[toffeebrews]

tell me your Ink headcanons NOW 😼😼😼

You're... giving me permission.... to share my ink headcanons.

well get ready

Talked about this one already but I'll share it again: I think Broomie is semi sentient. I like to think at first Ink didn't know that though, but still talked to broomie anyway. So, regardless of this fact Ink probably would've talked to broomie.

He's good at encouraging people but not comforting people. If that makes sense? (projection much pfttt)

If you ran your hand over the "tattoo" marks it have a slight divot in it. Like a crack in a road. Probably because... in my hc they're literally semi healed cracks.

They're is talented in many types of art not just one. Hes talented in singing, dancing, fashion design, mechanics, and architecture! Really the only one he struggles with is well... cooking. Do NOT let that man in a kitchen (I mean he's immortal why would he not learn multiple artistic skills?)

Y'know how canon!swap climbs on people because hes insecure about his height? I think Ink does the same thing.

(More yappening under the cut)

Deep down he feels like something is missing... what he doesn't know is he's missing his home, his AU. Sometimes hes goes on a search universe to universe in search of "something important he can't remember" but can never find it. Until he gets bored, forgets what he's doing or gets preoccupied with something else.

He likes switching up his looks so he may give himself a tail or paws or claws with his brush. Maybe he even changes the color of his limbs sometimes (that's more a crack hc though). He gives themself a new outfit at any chance he can get. (Edit: I actually imagine one of the reasons he would get excited for multiverseal events is mainly because he gets to show off a new outfit for that event. He goes ALL out)

Due to his dulled sense of pain often he isn't aware he's injured unless it's pretty severe. So he may just go about their day with injuries they don't know about. Typically Dream or Swap have to be like "dude you have a crack in your skull."

After that one comic with Swap and Ink, Swap bandaged up his skull despite Ink insisting he didn't need it. Mainly because Swap didn't know Ink could heal themself and just thought Ink was being humble. Everytime he went to go take it off, Swap would freak about it hasn't had enough time to heal. Until Ink did a more through "I have a brush bro chill" (not ink accurate dialogue).

He's super flexible!! like contortionist level of flexibility.

Oddly specific but I think they're the type to consume all sorts of fan content and enjoy it. Completely ooc and fanon stuff too. He would be the type to read a fic and go "I would NOT say that" with a giggle and write a heartfelt comment anyway.

If you know homestuck... Nepeta has a shipping wall. I think Ink would have something similar (projection?? blasphemy!). Maybe in his sketchbook or smth. I mean do you see how he reacts around his dads smh 😔😮‍💨. He doesn't take it all that seriously though... LMAO. But I feel like he would be like "🏳️‍🌈?" y'know? Is this making any sense? I hope LMAOOO

Ink knows being called "child" annoys Dream so when Dream's like "I'm not a child I'm 500 years old" he just uses different synonyms of kid " heya youngster" " hi boy" stuff like that to annoy him. Just to mess with him.

He loves "aggressive affection." Like he bites people. He also likes to be bitten (not in a sus way but like in a cat like way). He loves bear hugs. Stuff like that.

He loves being drawn on, like literally. He loves the sensation of art supplies on his bones. Particularly the texture of paint and pencil are the ones he enjoys the most. He draws designs and stuff on his bones sometimes.

He has that cartoon ability to walk on walls or the ceiling and completely defy gravity. How? Cartoon skelly powers ig.