#and so i project it onto him 😍

[chururiii]

Hear me out but i truly feel like sakura would be the bf who would def be so down to join you for yoga

LIKE GUYS DO YOU SEE IT

We already know hes flexible af, so honestly i feel like the class would be so fun to him to just keep in shape. And more importantly!!! He gets to spend time with you which i believe would make him totally down for yoga classes.

He might be embarrassed if hes the only guy but he aint gonna let smth like that stop him.

And if you have to get close to him, touch him, to correct his posture 🤭 well i feel like he would see it as a plus (he will be red as a cherry though)

[mossangelll]

is that hyperpigmentation?

arcane characters x reader

basically what the title says, you draw the arcane characters à la hyperpigmentation 😍 i needed smth silly to work on to get me out of my writing rut, hope you enjoy :p

content: gn!reader, reader is their partner (could be seen as platonic/child reader but i think most of, if not all, the hcs allude or explicitly call reader their partner - sorry!)

Jinx

she LOVES it

as an artist, engineer, overall creator she can really appreciate the more wacky expressions of art

she does a whole art critique (barely a critique tbh) and pretends to be some stuffy piltie talking about the genius and emotion behind the artwork

“ya know, toots, i’m reaaallyyyy enjoying what ya did with that…um, splodge? on my face there. yeah!”

she draws her own version but this time it’s a portrait of you

you swap them and have a cute little date where you colour the pictures in together and add details in the background

by the end, jinx’s workshop is covered in glue and glitter and paint and powder and also for some reason silly string

jinx even makes frames from scratch so they can be hung up - they’re probably the most nicely presentee decoration she has in her place

Ekko

you slide the portrait of him over to his side of the table in silence

he looks down absently and has to do a double take

“this is…me?” he asks hesitantly with his eyes widened like a deer in headlights; a look you rarely ever see from him - you nod and confirm his fears

“we have one tree down here. paper’s expensive. remember that.”

walks away and goes about his duties helping the firelights and though you suspect he might be upset, he did take the picture with him

feels so guilty about his reaction he almost sacks himself into a wall as he rides his hover board

later that night he apologises and makes a show of sticking the picture on his bedroom wall (in the corner he can barely see of course)

Vi

she’s been in prison and seen some interesting tattoos but this takes the cake

spends a good ten minutes staring at it whilst rubbing her chin as if that’s gonna make it look better

asks you if this was the rough draft

she’s smooth though so she basically tells you she hates it but in a way that you don’t even realise - you’re too busy being seduced to notice

“i love how wild your imagination is babe 😍”

vi keeps the picture and shows jinx; needless to say, this portrait becomes famous

kids all through the lanes have a challenge where they find all the weird faces jinx spray painted everywhere

vi pretends to act dumb as if she doesn’t know how jinx got ahold of them but you both know what happened LMAO

Caitlyn

she laughs in your face

she probably just had an argument with her mum over being an enforcer so she really needed this to lighten her spirits

teases you over it but accepts it gracefully because she’s a kiramman and those manners have been engrained into her

keeps it in her room as a joke and everything’s seemingly ok

except she can’t stop looking at it

and then looking at her reflection in the mirror

starts to question reality because she knows there’s no way she looks like that but if so, why would you draw it in the first place 😭

then she enters the mad stage and she confronts you about this thing called negging she discovered

it’s a loooooong night but don’t worry it ends in lots of laughter and giggles

she understands it wasn’t serious and was just projecting her stress onto the picture

but then this starts a new tradition where you two draw daily doodles of each other; sometimes with stupid faces, other times as animals, whatever you two are feeling really

Mel

the woman was too stunned to speak

no, she’s literally speechless for a good minute or two as you hold it out for her

she eventually takes the portrait from your hands but does it in a way where you’d think it was going to explode the second she touches it

she tries her best to smile and be graceful about it, years of etiquette training being tested but even this is a bit excessive

she finds a way to dodge actually having to tell you it looks bad but also dodges telling you that it looks good too - she’s a lot of things but she’s not a liar 😭

she’s incredibly diplomatic

the very next day she’s introducing you to an absolutely fabulous painter who just happened to make an impromptu visit but has just enough time to run a session (or multiple) with you!

how serendipitous is this!

never again will she receive a portrait from you like hyperpigmentation

Jayce

“oh wow this is for me?”

you handed this to him in the busy academy building in front of SOOO many people and now his face is red

his teeth are gritted, hand rubbing the back of his neck and if you look closely there’s even beads of sweat dripping down his forehead

you’ve got this man stressed out

takes like 20 minutes trying to tell you that he’s not too sure if this is exactly his style

internally he’s crying for help because he just wants to get out of this situation

he loves you don’t get it wrong but this has never happened to him before and it’s not like they’ve got a guidebook on this stuff

eventually admits defeat and accepts the portrait

it’s probably in the break room and although he isn’t particularly fond of it, he won’t stand for anyone saying mean things about what you made

that is until you tell him it was all a joke in the first place and you never thought he would actually accept it considering how shitty it was

yeah, he allowed everyone a ten minute free for all where they could slander the picture after that

he is gonna give you silent treatment for all of an hour before he can’t stand it anymore and he asks you not to pull pranks like that on him again with tears in his eyes 😭

Viktor

viktor is chronically ill AND chronically overworked

gonna be real, he sees the portrait and doesn’t even think anything of it

like, he’s so sleep deprived that he’s constantly squinting and so to him, it low-key looks like him

you even got his beauty mark right too! most people forget that detail!

it’s only after a good few weeks of having the picture on his bedside table and actually, finally, getting eight hours of sleep that he properly looks at the picture and

who the fuck is that

but at this point it’s too late, it’s already in a frame next to the bed you two share and there’s no way he can discretely get rid of it without you noticing

stages an accident where his cane “accidentally” happens to slip and somehow punt the picture frame right out the window with surprising accuracy

he gives you those puppy dog eyes and tells you how sad he is but that he’ll survive so don’t worry!

can’t even feel guilty about the situation because the moment the portrait is gone he stops having nightmares

Silco

another one who is speechless

if you were anyone else, he would’ve berated you so badly you would want to quit by the end of it

unfortunately you’re someone he loves so he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place

the thing is, he really does appreciate that you went through the effort of drawing a picture of him since it reminds him that perhaps his love isn’t as one-sided as he fears

so he really does want to have it framed and put up on his desk so he can stare at it whenever he misses you

the problem is that even though one of his eyes is fucked up he can still see how butt ugly the drawing is

plus the fact that if he has meetings his business associates are gonna see it and that’s gonna be a tough one to explain

rather not lose out of business because his partner decided to be picasso for a day

silco ends up compromising by having you draw a teeny tiny version he keeps in his wallet instead :3

the bigger version stays in a locked compartment of his desk drawer, he doesn’t want to risk sevika seeing it

Vander

vander does NOT care what it looks like, he loves it

you could literally scribble on a page, say “that’s you” and he’s tearing up at your thoughtfulness

it’s going on the fridge asap and it’s staying there too

he’s gonna show it to everyone with such pride in his voice

sure, he doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking at and maybe you drew his body hair a bit liberally but you made it so that’s good enough for him!

when he shows it off, most people say aww what a cute werewolf and ask how old his kid is

the light leaves their eyes when he tells them, chest puffed out, that his fully grown adult partner did it and that it’s actually a portrait of him

whether you made it as a joke or not, expect all of your friends, your friend’s friends, those friend’s friend’s friends…everyone to have seen it

Sevika

sevika tells you it’s ugly straight away <\3

rolls her eyes as she listens to you explain all the reasons why she should like the drawing

she does nawt care

wants to act unbothered but deep down she’s a bit insulted

however she doesn’t like sein you upset so she kisses you to distract you from the fact she hates the drawing

sevika is an incredibly considerate partner so now she knows you like art, she takes it upon herself to buy colouring books and art journals that you two can fill out together

this is how you find out she’s a god at drawing and you find it sweet how she takes you under her wing

if something’s bad she’ll tell you but it will always be constructive criticism and before you know it your portraits actually look decent

she’s smug knowing she helped you get to that point

little do you know she kept your abhorrent portrait of her and she looks at it every so often to see how far you’ve come

she’s a softie deep down

AU!mylo

he says he likes it but that’s just because he wants to hit

also is a bit pretentious so you could hand him a really bad painting and he’ll try and act like he “gets it” even if there’s nothing to get 😭

this WILL make him doubt his looks constantly

he’s confident for sure, more than he should be at times, but now he’s got that image in the back of his head

aura down and now he’s even WORSE at flirting god save this man

will go around asking random people if he looks like the guy in the portrait because he’s not going down without a fight

he needs to beat the allegations one way or another‼️

AU!claggor

genuinely too nice to decline it or say it looks bad

doesn’t know what exactly it’s meant to be even though you already said it’s a portrait of him

too focused on his plants to worry about it too much, it’s just something that makes him chuckle every now and then

he will conduct a mini interview on why you made it look the way it did

he looks all serious as he nods at your answers

deep down he just wants to understand how your brain works

masterlist

[mcrdvcks]

Hi! I have a small request with Logan Howlett. I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader and Logan are putting up Christmas trees together (with their kids if possible) and it’s just so heart-warming, so domestic life, so cozy, so tooth-rotting sweet, so hunky husband material, and AAAAAHH—! #needthat 😍🥰🩷

Deck The Halls

Summary: You and Logan decorate for Christmas with your kids.

Word Count: 2k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader

Notes: sorry if this took a bit too long anon! i had to listen to quite a lot of christmas music while also being stressed that finals are next week and having like 2 final projects due friday that i haven't started... anyways, i hope this is what you wanted!

(you can imagine any logan for this it's not specified. and thank you for 800 followers!)

warnings/tags: laura!!, reader and logan have a biological kid, fluff!!

Laura propped open the door, the cold chill rushing inside as you lugged the tree inside. Sierra, who was already inside, her beanie slipping down onto her forehead, her gloves a tad bit oversized.

“Careful, you’re going to scratch the walls,” Laura said with a smirk, standing off to the side with her arms crossed.

“I got it,” you huffed, struggling to balance the massive tree as it scraped against the doorway. “If someone actually helped instead of supervising, this might go faster.”

Logan appeared behind you, a grunt escaping him as he took the tree from your hands like it was nothing. “That someone’s right here.”

“Show-off,” you muttered, shaking your head but smiling.

Sierra toddled over, her beanie nearly falling into her eyes as she pointed dramatically toward the corner of the living room. “It goes there! Right there, Daddy!”

“Bossy, just like your mom,” Logan teased, earning him a playful glare from you.

“You better be glad it’s Christmas,” you shot back, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Otherwise, I’d make you do all the decorating by yourself.”

Laura leaned against the doorway with a grin. “I vote we let Dad string up the lights. He’ll get all growly when they tangle.”

“Keep it up, kid,” Logan warned as he hoisted the tree into place, his tone gruff but laced with affection. “You’ll find yourself untangling them.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Laura replied, grabbing a nearby box of ornaments. “I’m just saying, you’re the one who’ll probably break half the bulbs.”

“Okay, let’s focus,” you cut in, handing Sierra a tiny star ornament from the box.

“Laura said she’d lift me up so I can put the star on top!” Sierra announced, her words tumbling out in a breathless rush.

“Laura said what now?” Logan arched a brow at Laura, who shrugged, completely unbothered.

“She asked. I said sure,” Laura said, bending down to tug her boots off. “I’m strong enough. She doesn’t weigh that much.”

“Not the point,” Logan grumbled, shaking his head. “We’ll handle the star. You two can do the ornaments.”

Sierra pouted dramatically, her bottom lip sticking out in protest. “But Laura’s more fun! She said she’d spin me around so I could hang the ornaments way up high.”

“Logan, it’s Christmas,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Let them have fun. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She falls, and I’ve gotta listen to Sierra scream and you yell at me for letting it happen,” he replied dryly.

“Dad!” Sierra gasped, looking scandalized. “Laura’s not gonna drop me. She’s a ninja.”

“Pretty sure ninjas don’t decorate Christmas trees,” Logan muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward.

Sierra turned to Laura with a grin. “See? He didn’t say no.”

“That’s not—” Logan started, but you cut him off with a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Let them have their fun. We’ll supervise,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But if anything breaks—”

“Nothing’s gonna break,” Laura interjected, already hoisting Sierra up in her arms. “We’ve got this.”

Sierra let out a delighted squeal as Laura lifted her, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Logan grumbled under his breath, something about how Christmas was supposed to be “calm, not a circus.”

“Relax,” you said softly, leaning against him as you watched the girls. “This is what Christmas is about.”

He glanced at you, his expression softening. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I won’t,” you rested your head on his shoulder. “Now, let’s get those lights untangled,” you spoke, moving toward the box of decorations.

“Why do they always come out of the box like this?” he muttered, pulling out a jumbled ball of lights.

“Because you never roll them up properly,” you teased, pulling the end of the strand from his hand.

“Excuse me? I wasn’t the one who packed them last year,” Logan shot back, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Details,” you said with a grin, carefully working the knots apart.

Across the room, Sierra’s laughter rang out as Laura spun her in a slow circle, letting her hang ornaments on the higher branches.

“Faster, Laura!” Sierra squealed.

“Faster, and you’re gonna go flying,” Logan called over his shoulder, his tone a mix of warning and humor.

“She’s fine, Logan,” you reassured, giving him a playful nudge.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Daddy!” Sierra yelled, her voice full of glee. “Laura’s a ninja, remember?”

“That’s what worries me,” Logan muttered under his breath, though his lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile.

“You’re such a softie,” you teased, looping a section of untangled lights around your arm. “Admit it—you love watching them.”

He grunted but didn’t argue, his eyes softening as he glanced toward the girls.

“You gonna help, or am I doing all the work over here?” you asked, holding up the strand of lights.

Logan reached for it, his fingers brushing against yours. “I got it. Don’t need you getting zapped if there’s a bad bulb.”

You rolled your eyes but let him take over, watching as he started stringing the lights around the tree. His movements were precise but slow, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You do realize it’s not surgery, right? Just wrap them around,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Keep it up, and I’ll let you finish,” he retorted, shooting you a look.

“Touchy,” you teased, stepping back to admire the tree. “But hey, it’s looking good.”

“Duh!” Sierra chimed in, still perched on Laura’s shoulders. “That’s because we’re helping!”

“Helping, huh?” Logan said, pausing to glance at her. “You’re just supervising, same as your mom.”

“Excuse me?” you gasped, feigning offense.

“Yeah, Mommy’s the boss!” Sierra chimed in, sticking her tongue out at Logan.

“Boss of what?” Logan countered, his tone playful. “Boss of making me do all the work?”

“That’s marriage, honey,” you replied with a smirk, leaning over to kiss his cheek again.

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, but you caught the slight flush creeping up his neck.

“Alright, I think we’re done!” Laura announced, setting Sierra down gently.

The little girl ran to you, beaming. “Did we do a good job, Mommy?”

“The best,” you said, scooping her up and planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Tree’s not even plugged in yet,” Logan pointed out, but the soft smile on his face betrayed his words.

“Then plug it in,” you challenged, nodding toward the outlet.

Logan grabbed the cord and bent down, pausing dramatically as if he were about to detonate a bomb.

“Just plug it in, Dad!” Laura said, rolling her eyes.

The lights flickered on, illuminating the room in a warm glow.

Sierra gasped, her eyes wide with wonder. “It’s so pretty!”

“It’s perfect,” you said softly, wrapping your arms around Logan’s waist as the girls admired their handiwork.

He glanced down at you, his expression tender. “Yeah, it’s not bad.”

“Admit it,” you teased, resting your head against his shoulder. “This is your favorite part.”

He smirked. “You’re my favorite part.”

“Ew! Gross!” Laura groaned, but you caught the smile she tried to hide.

Sierra giggled, clapping her hands. “Kiss her, Daddy!”

“Oh, you’re full of ideas tonight, huh?” Logan said, his gruff exterior melting as he leaned down to kiss you softly.

The girls’ laughter filled the room, and for a moment, everything was perfect.

---

After the girls were in bed and asleep, you and Logan sat on the couch, your feet propped in his lap while you cradled a warm cup of hot chocolate in your hands. The faint glow of the Christmas lights reflected off the window, giving the room a cozy warmth despite the cold outside. Logan had his head tilted back, his eyes half-closed, one hand resting lightly on your shin.

“You good over there?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

He cracked one eye open, smirking. “Tired. You and your Christmas tree schemes wore me out.”

“Schemes?” you repeated with a mock gasp. “Excuse me, but I distinctly remember you being the one who insisted we get a real tree this year.”

“Yeah, and I’m regretting it,” he muttered, his hand absently rubbing your ankle. “Needles everywhere. That thing’s gonna shed all over the place.”

“You’re such a Grinch sometimes, you know that?” you teased, taking a sip of your drink.

He snorted. “A Grinch who carried the tree in, set it up, and tangled with those stupid lights.”

“Hey, I untangled half of those,” you shot back, nudging his side with your foot.

“Half? More like a quarter,” he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You rolled your eyes, leaning forward to set your mug on the coffee table. “Fine, maybe a quarter. But I provided moral support, which is arguably the most important part.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, but his tone was warm. “Moral support.”

You leaned back, reaching out to cup his face with one hand. “Admit it. You had fun tonight.”

His eyes softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you. “Yeah. It wasn’t bad.”

You laughed, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “That’s as close to a compliment as I’m gonna get, huh?”

“Don’t push your luck,” he said, his voice low and teasing. Before you could pull away, his hand caught your wrist. In one fluid motion, he tugged you down until you were sprawled across his chest.

“Logan!” you yelped, laughing as you tried to balance yourself. “What are you—”

“Getting comfortable,” he interrupted, his hands settling on your waist to keep you steady. “You’re the one who started it.”

You propped your elbows on either side of him, grinning down at his smug expression. “Started what?”

“Touching me. Flirting. Trying to make me all soft and mushy.” His voice was gruff, but his hands rubbed soothing circles into your back.

You raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought I was just being nice.”

“Sure, nice,” he drawled, leaning his head back against the couch cushion. “You’re always up to something.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw before settling your head on his chest. His heartbeat was steady, his warmth chasing away the lingering December chill.

“Impossible, huh?” he murmured, his hand sliding up to tangle in your hair. “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

“Guess I am,” you replied softly, closing your eyes. “Lucky me.”

His chest rumbled with quiet laughter. “Yeah, lucky you.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire and the hum of the fridge in the kitchen. You let out a contented sigh, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his chest.

“You know,” you said after a while, your voice muffled against his shirt, “you’re not as grumpy as you pretend to be.”

“Don’t start,” he warned, though there was no heat in his tone.

“It’s true,” you teased, lifting your head to look at him. “You’re just a big softie, Logan. Especially when it comes to the girls.”

He gave you a look, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “Keep talking, and you’ll regret it.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” you quipped, grinning as his hand slid up to cup the back of your neck.

“Both,” he said, pulling you down for a kiss.

The moment was unhurried, warm, and completely yours, a rare pocket of peace in the chaos of life. When he finally pulled back, his lips brushing against yours, you couldn’t help but smile.

“See?” you whispered. “Big softie.”

“Go to bed,” he muttered, his voice gruff but tinged with affection.

“Only if you carry me,” you replied, resting your forehead against his.

He groaned, but his arms tightened around you. “Fine. But if I throw my back out, you’re explaining it to Laura.”

“She’ll just say I’m bossy,” you said with a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Logan stood effortlessly, holding you close as he made his way toward the bedroom. “That’s because you are,” he muttered, his voice low and full of warmth.

And for once, you didn’t argue.

[gyuspearl]

dating roulette – n.rk (masterlist) . ˚ ౨ৎ ⊹

꒰ 🤍 ꒱ A NISHIMURA RIKI [니키] ​​SERIES!

genre. smau (social media au), comedy, fluff, angst, romance, best friends to lovers. .˚⊹ pairing. non-idol,,best friend riki x fem reader. ໒꒱ warning(s). profanity, kys/kms jokes, poor attempt at humor. <//3

synopsis .ᐟ you have horrendous luck with men… and your best friend knows this. so, when you ask him to set you up with a guy, he immediately agrees– except, he secretly likes you. in attempts to do what you’ve asked of him, he sets you up with his friends, sabotaging every date you go on: until you finally agree to go out with him.

status. ongoing! updates. every 2 to 3 days. (attempting) start. 11.04.24

꒰ 💌 ꒱ taglist. open! comment / send an ask to be added!

@nshmuras @wonsdoll @pshbites @greentulip @roarr-ki @chiaki-nanami-aesthetic @sol3chu @rikidaze @lelestarmy @17ericas @who-tf-soddhi @yangjungwonnie (bold cannot be tagged)

꒰ 💬 ꒱ mi note. i've had this idea cooking for a while, and I'd like to try giving a shot at writing a smau!! therefore, this will likely be my next, most focused project. please look forward to it! i'm posting this to generate some excitement hopefully.

profiles : goof troop + pay up or dni!!!

ch 1. – you want… me? to be ur wingman?

ch 2. – chat i’ve lost all control of this aircraft.

ch 3. – first date! kinda nervy 😍

ch 4. – wdym he said he’s breedable.

ch 5. – no bbg i’ve got U. trust

ch 6. – onto a new man #playerera

ch 7. – it happened again, wish i was patrick star.

. . . more to come!

[juuuulez]

🔥 | kinktober #12: subspace, steve harrington.

another late post but i CANNOT be normal about this after LITERALLY JUST LEARNING THAT JOE KEERY IS COMING TO A FESTIVAL IM GOING TO 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 I AM GOING TO SEE HIM 🩷🩷🩷 WITH MY EYES 🩷🩷🩷🩷

this was so random and insane of me to write. eermmmm we’re looking at stoned sex, subspace, sub steve 😍 and cockwarming and just ARRRGGG

i need a boyfriend so bad this is some hardcore projection someone fucking sedate me

-> prompt/kinktober masterlist <-

your lips drag across steve’s skin, not biting, just leaving warm kisses in their wake. his chest and neck are flushed red with exertion, your bodies slick with sweat, a sticky heat between you.

“please, please s’just— little more..”

what steve is begging for is unclear. his mouth has latched onto your shoulder, getting spit practically everywhere, his tongue lapping at your skin.

the blankets have long since been ruffled, piled recklessly on the bed. it’s soft and calm and quiet, a dull light coming from the television, some soft music from a nearby record player.

you’ve certainly been more stoned, before, but this is still nice. it drapes over your nerves like a fluffy blanket… or maybe that’s steve, actually, his arms dragging you down towards the bed.

“steve,” you sigh out, barely resisting as he rolls you over, his body weight resting over you. “too heavy.”

but he doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. whatever comes out is a low mumble, a heavy sigh leaving his body. when he does speak, it’s another muffled “pleeeaaasssee” into your shoulder.

it’s safe to say that steve harrington is totally, completely, utterly stoned.

and with about three orgasms on top of that, his mind feels fuzzy. like static rolling around in his head, making his skull mushy, feather light.

you rake your hand through his hair, giving a gentle tug, just enough to lift his head from your chest.

his eyes are glassy and red, lips all pink from the heavy making out. it makes you grin, bringing your other hand up to cup either of his cheeks. his skin is warm.

“what is it?” you ask in a whisper, “what do you want?”

steve let’s out another of those heavy sighs, and his whole body sinks into you. “please,” he mumbles again, “j’s lemme put it inside..”

because, somehow, steve is still achingly hard and leaking against your thigh. he’s probably been for this entire time, despite the utter exhaustion on his features.

you pout at his pitiful face, gently rubbing a thumb over his cheek. “baby, i think you’ve had enough. aren’t you tired?”

and steve practically groans, letting his head fall back down onto your chest. his lips work against you, pressing messy kisses into your skin, leaving a trail of spit. he moves down, and down, until his mouth finds the swell of your breast.

it makes you sigh, closing your eyes. it feels good. so good, that you can’t even complain when steve palms at your ass, his big hands lifting your hips to line his weeping cock to your entrance.

the slide is easy, with your combined releases, sticking to your cunt and thighs. it feels perfect, like home. steve must think so, too, for he finally settles down, his arms moving up to wrap around your torso.

he’s certainly too stoned to even think about thrusting, fucking you properly. that’s okay. you continue to gently card through his hair as the pair of you lay there, steve’s weight acting like a nice blanket, his breathing steady and calm, his cock nestled deep inside.

both of you fall asleep like this.

[ronearoundblindly]

Yield

Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader

a vague sequel to Warning Signs (not required to read before this)

Summary: Steve takes your mind off a recent tragedy for the team.

Fluff, hurt/comfort with emphasis on the comfort, references to death and trauma but not explicit, SEVERAL sweet kisses 😍. Adjusted (from its languishing, dusty doc) for @bigtreefest's Summer Lovin' Celebration using the elements: hand kink--although this work is for all-ages--and "ew gross, that's not what I thought would happen today"--except I fudged that a bit. You're welcome even though, yet again, no one asked for this! WC ~2.3k

It’s a dreamless sleep, the kind that feels like you blinked but hours passed. Awareness comes long before awakeness.

Your head aches. You feel as shriveled and puckered as you were laying in the bath tub, soaked but thirsty, letting water steadily drip between your paralyzed, parted lips for so long yesterday. Your eyelids are sandpaper, but they’ve not opened yet.

Minutes tick by—perhaps another hour—and you attempt to remember what’s happening or happened.

Two people died. Gone. Brought back in the belly of the same plane you arrived home in, they are now lost, lost somewhere dark like this, lost like you are for so long as you can stand to keep your sore eyes closed.

Well…you are home but not home all at once.

You’re in a bed, that’s clear, but the pillow isn’t your own. The scent is off. Heavy. Musky. Not unpleasant. Somehow still familiar.

You tick through snapshots of sullen faces trying to remember.

Over you lies a soft, thick blanket. Again not yours. Again pleasing. It has heft. It comforts without constraint.

The hardest sensation to figure out is your hands.

They are…sticky and weighted. You’ve sweat and clammed up upon yourself. Your hands are not clasped in each other. Why the feeling then?

It’s cold—or cool, rather—but not beneath the blanket. The contrast to the battlefield’s heat yesterday is stark though no less repressive. The external pressures of fighting have turned inward, pushing your emotions to the brink. Your won the fight, and after, you lost the war with yourself.

You remember losing that war alone, so what are you holding?

Finally, you look.

There’s someone else in this foreign bed, one of the faces from the sorrowful slideshow behind your eyes.

Steve Rogers sleeps beside you, recognizable only by his size and his crown of golden hair because his head is bent, his hands encasing yours. He’s pressed himself to the bundle of fists between you.

The numbness has yet to lift. That’s why it all reeks of distance and projected celluloid. Yesterday happened but only in that far away world playing on the back of your skull. All you can process as real is that he’s right there and you are right here, simultaneously.

You try harder.

You try to flood color and sound onto the memories until they come closer.

The mission, the deaths, the flailing sense of loss, the unending bewilderment of “what do I do now?”: they become…undeniably tangible. They happened, and they happened to you. You heard the captain promise to stay with you. You heard him…

He called you ‘sweetheart.’

That’s the first thought that stirs something soft among the sharp recollections. That’s when existence returns.

Rogers came to your room. He wouldn’t leave until you were safe. He took care of you, and he called you ‘sweetheart.’ In your months of working with the Avengers, the captain has never once casually assigned an endearment. He says ‘ma’am’ more often than not and barely has nicknames for the teammates he’s worked with for a decade. 

Everyone is Agent, Sir, or Miss. Your last name has always been enough.

You were none of those things last night. You survived a horrid battle, a crippling loss, and a solitude which almost drowned you; it’s silly to admit how he heals your wounds with one simple word.

Sweetheart. A warm cocoa hug to your chest. A gentle embrace. A guidance back toward the light.

Maybe he’ll never say it again. Maybe he meant nothing by it. He only tried to help you. He only wanted you to feel better. Since no one else was around, it’s an easy assumption that Steve simply—

Rogers.

He’s Captain Rogers to you. A coworker. A teammate. That’s all.

It’s difficult to even call him a friend because the man is so professional, so shy.

That shy professional probably saw you naked last night. Whoops.

You shimmy deeper under your covers, tilting your gaze down to the shirt and shorts Rogers dressed you in—his shirt and shorts—but those movements stir the man with your hands.

In a split second, you clamp your eyes shut again and wait in the dark, fighting not to twitch at the dry-sand prickle.

He shifts with a quiet scratching of the sheets, and he sighs, the hot air grazing your knuckles.

One traitorous eye gives a curious peek.

Rogers’s head cranes back to show his sleepy smirk.

“Morning,” he rasps, blinking slowly. He ducks away again to yawn, his face stretching to life, before softly continuing. “How you feeling? Can I getcha anything?”

You tuck your lip under and say nothing. Words have left you.

After allowing the pause, Rogers lets go of your hands, cold flooding your damp skin.

“I’ll get us some water then.”

He doesn’t rumple your blanket. He doesn’t hold eye contact. He just dutifully rolls out of his bed and gets two glasses.

The paralysis is making you quake slightly. What do you say? Will he take you out of the field for this? If not already, will he bench you from how you act next? How will you act next?

He leans a knee onto the still-warm spot he abandoned and tsks.

“Come on. Couple of sips and I’ll leave you alone. Sleep all day if you want, but first—“ He inches the offered water closer.

You rake your eyes up his arm until meeting baby blues.

“Do you mean—“

Rogers’s phone rings. “Shoot, sorry. One second.” He plunks both cups down on his bedside table and answers quickly. “Yeah, Sam, I—no, no run today, I think… Seen her? Um, yeah, she’s…she was—“ glancing back at you over his shoulder, he pulls his hand over his mouth in thought “—I’ll look in…okay, sure thing. Talk later.”

You’re offered another smile and chance at water. “Where were we?”

“So this is where you go to be—“

The failed observation echos in the garage while Captain Rogers kneels by his bike (one of half a dozen). You can’t say ‘alone’ since you’re here, too, so you awkwardly kick your feet over the edge of the steel table he told you to sit on.

Captain America is important enough to be assigned one of the coveted, private garages along one side of the jet hangar, and he assured you, no one bothers him as soon as he closes that door. Where else was he supposed to take you? It’s hot outside, just like yesterday, your room is still trashed, and his room is not exactly neutral territory.

Rogers simply smiles, ticking his head to one side. “Hand me that socket wrench?”

Quick as a rabbit, you hop down, and suddenly, as his fingers drag the cool metal handle from yours, you get it. You forgot all about everything for a split second.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he whispers, smile still gentle, eyes still brilliant blue.

Your insides swoop more than the mid-air jump from your perch. You tuck your lip in your teeth to stifle the glow threatening to shine out. It feels wrong. You can’t be happy today. You shouldn’t. It’s not right.

Right?

Twice. Twice now he’s slipped. Maybe. Yesterday is mostly a blur. It’s hard to imagine he means to say that. It’s not like the captain to be kind. Well, of course Steve is kind, but in a professional way, a distant way. Instead, this is a tender sort of kind, tenderness like holding onto your hands while you sleep.

He’s watching your every reaction, probably to make sure you don’t fall apart again, probably to make sure you don’t shut down entirely, but you’ve a new focus: him.

“Help me?” Rogers asks, tongue swiping out, nervous. “If you want,” he adds with a shrug.

You shrug, too, but sit on the floor next to him.

He exudes unending patience, explaining the basics of what he’s working on, mentioning nothing when you clearly zone out. You lose whole minutes to either staring at him or staring at nothing. More flashes of yesterday overtake your vision from time to time, even though your eyes are open.

“Should have taken you to the infirmary,” he mutters as you shake off your latest blip.

You drop the tool dangling in your limp hand, and despite knowing there’s an object falling to the concrete floor, you jump violently at the clattering it makes.

You grip at your temples, shielding your face. “Perhaps you should have.”

A warm, steady hand lands on your knee.

“I can finish up here and take you.” He hurries to do something on the bike, and you’re sure he’s about to send you for a psych eval.

That’s the last thing you want. You have to convince him you are fine, better than fine, strong.

You grab for his wrist to get his attention back, but the move makes him twist a cap too hard and thick brown oil comes steaming out all over both of you. It drips from your forearms down and splashes from the drip pan up, the flow quickly tapering off with a thick glug from the pipe.

“Ew, GROSS,” you blurt without thinking. You resist the urge to shake it off. No need to cover more of the room in your shame. “Sorry, Cap. I—That was—“

“No, no.” He’s just laughing, thank goodness. “My fault. Was gonna change that anyway…in a couple months. You alright?” He waits for a nod. “Let’s get this mess off at the sink, yeah?”

Rogers carefully points to the corner. You maneuver onto your feet and alternate raising and lowering your arms, thick rivulets threatening to paint the floor if you let the oil run too far in one direction.

“Wipe what you can off with the towels first.”

You sort of knock the roll over and nudge it across the counter. A strategic elbow turns up the tap and depresses the soap dispenser.

“‘Steve’ is fine,” he says as he massages lather over your palms, “by the way.”

You’re damn right Steve is fine.

Your breath catches while he continues to work the oil off your skin, avoiding eye contact.

After a minute or so, rubbing around and down your fingers, specifically scrubbing along your nails, he clears his throat.

“I’m glad it wasn’t you—“ Steve concentrates on circling each knuckle “—horrible as that sounds.”

You take control of the hand helping you, applying pressure as you feel a small tremor rattle the fine bones, unable to see the clear truth of his words beneath righteously long lashes.

He lets you wash him for a while, rubbing between his fingers, scrubbing along his nails, lathering over his palms.

His voice is so quiet, a low breeze from the distant, retractable ceiling letting in the world.

“Not supposed to say that,” he rumbles, inches away at most, “diminishing as it is to the dead.” Steve halts you and slides his hands up your forearms. “But that’s the point, yeah?” He looks up finally. “Focus on the living…”

You’re frozen, hanging on every word you’re convinced he can’t be saying.

“Is that a quest—“

Steve’s long lashes descend to narrow his path, supple lips grazing yours for the briefest moment before a curt “no.” He moves in for a proper kiss then, head tilting to take full advantage of your shock. A new shock. A different kind of shock from the one you’ve barely recovered from since…

Twenty-four hours. Horror. Sweetheart. Limbo. Sweetheart. Bliss.

He’s right. The heat of him signals life and passion, desperation and spirit for the best kind of danger: a leap of faith from the heart.

A sweet heart.

It’s at this shocking and romantic turn that you realize, you’d follow him anywhere, just as he’s followed you onto a doomed battlefield, into your chaotic mind, into a cold and lonely shower. You had nothing but doubt; he offered nothing but hope.

Your weight leans into the clutch of devoted sinew and reverent tendons. Steve takes that as a welcome encouragement.

One day it might be him or it might be you, and as difficult and painful as that would be, it helps to focus on who is still here. Both of you. Together. Now.

He’s lavish and indulgent, intense because his wet hands can’t pull you closer. His tenderness and decency saturate every atom of connection between you. Each generous touch conveys something undying and pure.

Your hold on each other slips in the running tap when Steve get a little greedy, his body pinning yours to the rim of the sink.

Immediately, he apologizes, retracting into a shell of chivalry and sympathy.

You swallow to compose yourself, minimal effect achieved.

After a fair few thundering heartbeats pulse past you ears, you manage, “that’s not what I thought would happen today.”

The baby blue irises are the picture of horror. “Bad? No?”

Steve steps back only once before you follow.

“Why me?” you counter softly.

He huffs in his infinite patience with you and rolls his eyes in disappointment with himself. Steve hangs his head, propping his arm on either edge of counter nearest him. A dark, bitter chuckle escapes before he finally confesses.

“Because every other day I feel very little, but with you, I want so much more.”

Is this how you looked to him yesterday? A raw wound begging for help in blinding light? Did he have this fear that he couldn’t offer enough?

It is enough though. It has to be enough to try for what you want, to live even in kindness and duty. He’s taken a step, and so can you.

You smile, close the remaining distance, and whisper one word into Steve’s waiting mouth.

Promise—

Question or statement, it doesn’t matter, or perhaps, you’ll figure it out on any other day. Today it simply means you're both alive.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: Hope this turned out okay and that you enjoyed the fluff! If not, don't worry. I've got a smutty lifeguard!Steve one-shot in the works, too!! Tags will be in a reblog since they've been so wonky lately.

[emmitaaa4]

People will really look at a character who was raised to be a doll—a pretty face to dress up, her dreams dismissed to gardens and pretty clothes, and an asset on the marriage market only if her beauty held—who was groomed to accept that her future would be determined by others’ maneuverings rather than her own, and still say:

“Ahh yes, it must be that the future of this character will indeed be defined by her looks in a black dress and by the unbreakable™ bond that was imposed upon her. 😍."

“… Matter of fact, the author was soo clever in making it so that others' superficial assessments of her character hold more weight in the narrative than her own declaration of belonging… its obviously meant to show us that everyone (but her) knows what's best for her; she does belong elsewhere. (Guys… what about someplace subtle, like Spring because flowers? Or Day because flowers need the sun?!)”

“The poor girl just doesn’t know any better: she’s exactly like her far-more-independent-and-headstrong sister who was wasting away in a Court where she was deprived of social interactio—wait, wdym she has a job, friends, is hinted at scheming behind the scenes, and calls the place a home... ? Sure, whatever, it’s clear that it's not significant, she's in denial; plus she can’t have a unique arc full of exploration & adventure unless she skedaddles away from the obstacles I dislike and never returns! Skedaddle to where, you ask? Easy: her mate’s court with her mate’s friends & her mate’s family, where she'll become her mate's High Lady... just like *drum roll* her sister! Notice how we don't question whether her mate's relationships are genuine and whether the life he's built (also ‘off-page’) matters?”

“Speaking of that MATE of hers, she is bound to come around eventually and realize that she was placed where she should be. I mean, he’s so hot, so she’s def super attracted to him and trying not to jump hi—what? You’re saying her body language shows otherwise? I mean how can you know, maybe she’s just hidin—oh... she' shown visible signs of attraction to another male? Enough signs that literally all characters, bar the oblivious one, noticed? Well then, it’s clearly because she’s projecting her longings for her mate onto the bloke; the bond means more than her pesky little rebellious feelings (Elain, we see you girl, no need to be stubborn!)."

“Btw, I cant believe you guys missed the memo, but the thing she had with that other dude? You know, the one the author gave her significant moments with and who did casual things like lending her his most prized possession & following the sound of her laugh & making his nightstand an altar in her effigy? Yea, it’s all a red herring. Turns out the author couldn't decide whether Mr. Distraction would be an incel or a fickle fuckboy, so she just went with both. Entitled, lustful prick—love him though! But SJM really fooled yall, it was all made so that readers (somehow) forget that she has a MATE who she is MATED to because there's this real MATING bond that she 100% cant break and that tells us that her MATE is the endgam—"

"...What are you saying? Are you really suggesting that the label of mates being all it took for many readers to overlook the on-page development of a romantic relationship between her & Mr. not-her-mate, in favour of said label, makes the bond more likely to be the red herring? Well, you're delusional... plus I thought that these two characters shared a brother/sister relationship up until it abruptly turned into "just lust" out of nowhere... right? Right. You probably just think it's a red herring cause her mate is red-haired. Ha!

You people need to understand that MATES are always the answer, period. They mean everything—why would you want a lesser love for your fav? It’s not like the author has put into question the nature of the mating bond & whether it indicates true paired souls, or like she spoke about how interesting she found the idea of bond rejections in her most recent interview—oh... damn. She did? But what about mates and the allegedly un-rejectable bond that could induce insanity by alleged cosmic blue balls?? Surely SJM wouldn't make a blanket statement reinforcing the status-quo of Prythian's patriarchal society just to have one of her heroines redefine it! I mean, let's be real, is Feyre becoming a High Lady despite there having been "no such thing" for millennia, or Nesta reinstating a female warrior force and winning the Illyrian-male-exclusive Blood Rite alongside an Illyrian woman and a ¼-nymph priestess, really THAT important? Why would the 3rd sister follow the pattern and subvert the status quo, when she could just make it easier for everyone & reinforce it by fulfilling the destiny she was groomed into?"

-----⊱ end scene ⊰-----

“Elain is pleasant to look at,’ her mother once said, ‘but she has no ambition. She will be an asset on the marriage market for us one day, if that beauty holds, but it will be our own maneuverings, Nesta, not hers, that win us an advantageous match."

Yet, here we are, expecting her story to be about fulfilling that prophecy rather than shattering it.

Elain’s story isn’t about conforming to the expectations placed on her—it’s about breaking free from them. And if you think a mating bond and a pretty dress are enough to define her or her arc, you’ve missed the point entirely.

[drunkenbagel]

Hi,can u do prompt 3 and 5 with pedro cause i loved the last one u did😍

thank you for reading!! hope you like it :) xx

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x actor/actress gn!reader Word count: 1,9k Contents: mentions of minor injuries (slight blood mentions, fainting, bruising, etc), mostly fluff

“Can you repeat my line again? I'm not my best today, sorry”

A girl behind the cameras held your script up and repeated your line once more. At this point you were feeling overwhelmed, having to repeat the short scene so many times just because your mind didn't focus. Even more since this was a big project, so on top of that you felt ashamed and anxious.

Finally, the scene went ahead and everything went as planned, getting to the next scene, which was a fight one.

One, two three, four. One two, three. One, two, three, four. You counted your steps and movements, rehearsing. One, two-

“Watch out!”

You heard the yell before the cracking sound, and while you looked up you saw one of the lights come off of the ceiling.

Uh-oh.

-·-·-·-

Pedro had heard from some people on the crew that someone in the studio next to theirs had an accident, and immediately spiraled into worry. You were in that area. There's many people there, it can't be her. The studios are huge. Yeah, no. It's definitely not her. Yet he couldn't concentrate. He threw the script into the table and hopped off the chair, determined to ease his worries.

“I'm goin' to the other studio, alright? I'll come back before the break is over” he said to one of the crew members.

He started to walk to the door that led outside, and he noticed how more and more people were whispering while walking from the other studio to the one he was in. That made him more nervous, and he started walking faster. When he pushed the door, he was immediately greeted by the sight of a few ambulances and a crowd of people standing around all over the place. That's when he saw a couple of paramedics wheeling you to the ambulance. Bloody.

His heart sank and he swore it skipped a few beats. Before he could register it he was running to the ambulance, shoving some people around to get inside before they carried you away. He jumped in.

“Sir you can't be in here unless-”

“I'm family”

The other paramedic shut the door after receiving a nod from the one that was on the truck with you, and started to drive to the hospital. He couldn't do anything but watch as the man started to change the bloody cloth he was pressing onto your forehead, which was reeling with blood. Pedro took your hand.

“What's going on? What the hell happened?”

“Apparently a few of the stage lights fell off and landed on some people, most of them without major injuries, except for her” he answered, while putting some oxygen tubes around your nose and trying to stop the head wound from bleeding. “Got the worst deal, seems like it broke some ribs, got hit pretty bad on the head. We'll know more about the internal injuries when we get from the hospital.”

The ride felt like they took the longest way to the hospital. Once they arrived, they wheeled you back out and into the ER.

“Sir, you can't go in there” a nurse said, stopping Pedro with a hand on his chest. He just watched as they took you to the area where only staff could cross. He pointed at the seats a few meters away. “You can wait in the waiting area”

If he thought the ride was the worst, he was completely mistaken. The wait was killing him. He got a few calls from the director and colleagues, asking where he was, but all he could do is give them some half-assed answers of why he wouldn't be coming back. The anxiety was eating him. He couldn't stop pacing back and forth, picking at his nails, waiting for someone to bring any news. When a doctor finally called your name, he looked up and almost ran to him.

“How are they?” he asked anxiously.

“Stable. There's a minor concussion, but nothing too serious luckily. They have been admitted to the hospital, I can take you to the room, if you'd like”

He followed the doctor to the room, and when he opened the door, his heart sank to his stomach. There you were, unconscious, bandaged and bruised, machine beeping steadily.

“They may not wake up for a few days, but that is normal. We'll be monitoring them constantly” she said, seeing the anxious look on his face. “You can stay as much as you'd like. Got a chair, the bathroom and the small sofa. Figured you might want to sleep next to her”

Pedro thanked the doctor and walked over to the bed and delicately brushed your hair away from your face, seeing the bruising on one of the sides. Fuck, you looked battered. He pulled the chair closer and took your hand on his, waiting for you to wake up.

-·-·-·-

Everything hurt. Even with your eyes closed, you felt like a truck had ran you over. Then you remembered the accident. Ah, shit.

You slowly opened your eyes, trying not to be blinded by the white light. The beeping sound was drilling into your head, making the heavy headache worse. With a sigh, you went to push the button to call a doctor and see if they could turn it off, but you couldn't, since your hand was feeling very heavy.

Please don't be a cast.

When you looked at it with painfully squinting eyes, you found the source of the weight: Pedro was laying his upper body on the side of the bed, and his hand was on yours. You couldn't help but smile. He looked so soft with his curly hair everywhere, lips parted in a slight snore. You ran your free hand by his hair, looking lovingly at him. He looked quite tired and a bit dishevelled, too. That made you frown. You looked behind him to find a blanket on the small sofa. Since when was he here? Since when were you here?

Like as to answer your questions, a nurse came in with a chart to check on you. When she looked up and saw you awake, she smiled.

“Hey, glad to see you've woken up. Got ya' man here worried sick” she said as she approached you and started looking at your screens.

“If it's not much of a bother, can you take the beeping machine off? It's killing my head” you mustered, trying to seat up in pain.

“Oh sure sugar, you got a big hit to the head, and these things can be annoying, but just glad you're awake” she said as she turned the machine silent. You sighed in relief. “How you feelin'?”

“Like I got smashed by a giant stage light” you answered with smile, sighing. You clutched your side in pain, noticing the bandages. “What day is it? How long have I been here?”

“You got here a almost a week ago, been sleepin' for the entirety of it. But the handsome man you've got there has not left your side for a second. Got here at the same time as you in the ambulance.”

“He got hurt too?” you worriedly asked.

“Oh no sugar, he got here with you as a visitor. Poor thing was worried sick when you were in the staff area being attended to” she said with a smile. “You've got a good one there. Is he your husband?”

You lowered your eyes to look at him and unconsciously smiled. “No, no. Gosh, I wish. Just... Uh, just my best friend”

“Well if my boyfriend waited that long without leavin' my side I would definitely put a ring on him” she said with a cheeky smile. “But anyways, how's your head? Any dizziness, nausea, blurry vision?”

“No, only a bit of ringing in my ears at first but that is gone now. Just the hammering headache” you answered as she took out a small light and looked at your eyes.

“Well, your pupils are workin' fine so that's a good signal. Now that you've woken up, we'll keep you in observation for a little while more, but you should be good to go in a couple of days.”

“That's good” said a raspy voice on your left. You turned your head to find a sleepy looking Pedro, still holding your hand. “Hello darlin', good to see you're finally awake”

You smiled and hugged him as the nurse left the room.

“Why are you here? Nurse told me it's been almost a week! You should have gone home” you scolded him, but with a soft voice. “And your filming! Have you really been here all this time?”

“Yeah. And I'm not gonna say sorry for it. Went home once to get some clothes, the old ones were starting to smell” he said with a smile. “You'd be damn crazy if you thought I would leave you”

“Have I ever told you how you're the best friend in the whole world?”

“Sometimes, yes” he said with a chuckle. “Um, about that... I kind of heard you and the nurse”

Oh no. You felt your cheeks getting warmer and warmer.

“I- It was a joke, I... I was joking” you said, laughing nervously.

“What if I told you that I didn't want it to be a joke? If you meant it seriously?” he said, swallowing hard, holding your hand a bit tighter. “Would you... What would you say to that?”

Your mouth opened, but you couldn't get an answer out, just stammering. “I- uhm, I-”

Pedro felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest with all the loud thumping in his ears. Maybe he shouldn't have asked? Maybe it was a joke? Unfortunately, there was no turning back.

“What would your answer be if I asked you to be my girlfriend?”

You froze. “W- what?”

He took a deep breath while closing his eyes. When he exhaled, his eyes met yours again. “I love you. I've liked you for a long time. Probably since the first time we met. This accident made me realize that I can't stop denying it, and I- I just need to know. If you don't, I'll never bring it up again and I'll be your friend. I can do that. I will, if that's what you want me to. And, shit, I know this is a lot to take in, and probably not the best of places to confess, but I can't go on anymore without an answer”

There was a silence between the two of you. Not a sound came from your throat, mouth staying agape. Pedro sighed, and he let your hand go with his eyes closed.

“I underst-”

“Ask me again”

He opened his eyes to find you looking at him with an expression he couldn't decipher. “I... What?”

“Ask me again”

Pedro hesitated. “Would- would you like to be my girlfriend?”

The couple of seconds that you waited to answer felt like an eternity to him, but seeing your smile turn into a grin and a little laugh made his heart stop.

“I thought you'd never ask. Come here” you said, yanking him by his shit to your level, and joined your lips together.

It felt electrifying. Kissing him after so long of being just friends, so many fantasies, so many dreams, felt like the best thing ever. When you softy pulled away and opened your eyes, you were met with his big brown eyes almost tearing up.

“Hey” you said, cupping his face with one of your hands. “Are you alright? Wanna take it back?”

“Never in my wildest dreams.”

[dontexpectmuch]

(if ur still taking requests) smth abt jude surprising a very stressed out student for their bday! i'm projecting horribly here 😍😍

author: happy (belated (?)) birthday!!!

—

you feel your phones vibration against your desk, gently tickling your skin. it pulls you out of a trance you didn’t even know you were in, your eyes now focused on the device.

a tired smile stretches on your lips, the contact name making you chuckle.

[from; The bestest best boyfriend]: open the door !

sighing, you get up from your chair and move to open the door of your small apartment, the sound of your steps as the only sound inside.

you open the door, immediately being met by a huge bouquet of blood red roses and red balloons, judes happy face the center of your sight. stepping to the side to let him enter, you take the flowers from his hands and move them to your face, the gentle scent of roses meeting your nose.

“hey, baby.” jude leans down to press a kiss on your lips, pelvis moving closer to press against yours.

you greet him back, though you see his eyebrows draw together, forehead creasing.

“you okay, love?” jude pushes your body towards your living room slash working space, placing the sweets tied to the ballon onto the table, taking the flowers from your head to put them on your desk.

you sigh for the nth time today, leaning against his body, slightly relaxing as you feel his warm hands caress your back.

jude speaks up again, voice laced with confusion, “babe?”

“‘m so tired, i don’t even know what to do.” you explain your behavior, though it doesn’t even come near to what you actually feel.

on top of being stressed and tired, you start to feel even worse because you can’t be happy to see your boyfriend. he doesn’t deserve to be greeted by your gloomy self like that, but you also know that he would never be mad at you for your feelings, immediately trying to help wherever he can.

“why aren’t you ready?” he asks, siting down on your couch and pulling you along by your wrist, positioning you on his lap.

“for what?”

you feel his hand move up and down your thigh as you lean against his body, head resting on the crook of his neck as you take in his manly scent, his aftershave tingling your brain in a way that you wouldn’t dare to put into words.

jude gasps, pushing your head up to hold it between his hands, thumbs drawing circles against your cheeks.

“your birthday dinner? you wanted to eat at that restaurant when we visited liverpool?” his words making bells ring in your head.

you loudly gasp as you stand up, “jude, babe, i,” your heart sinks as your eyes skim over his face, “i forgot?”

he tucks you down again, your legs caging his as you come face to face. “did you forget your own birthday?”

though jude smiles at you, thinking that this situation is quite funny, a moment the two of you would remember in your graying days, you can’t help but feel sad, closing your eyes as you put your forehead against his shoulder.

“exams are stupid.” you mumble, finally understanding why so many people have been calling you throughout the day.

you two sit on your couch for a while, small talk being exchanged between you. that is, until jude decides to get up to get your present that he left by the door, your heart’s rate picking up as you watch him sit next to you, a big bag placed on your lap.

“you didn’t have to-“

he puts his finger against your lips, successfully stopping you. “just, i hope you like it.”

you smile at him, thankful to have him in your life before you look down to pull out a rectangle box from the bag. your eyes widen as you are greeted by a white box, the familiar apple logo making tears sting your eyes.

your voice is soft, looking at your boyfriend who shyly looks at you through his lashes, “jude, i, oh my god, thank you so much.”

you move towards him to hug him tight, gratitude expressed through soft kisses spread over his neck.

“you said that your laptop was slow, and how many breakdowns you had because of it, so i thought, well, yeah.” he explains, his hand resting on your cheek once again, warmth radiating from his eyes.

your heart beats against your rips, heat creeping up your neck.

you knew that is an incredible person, someone who cares about his loved ones, giving as much as he can without expecting anything in return. you knew that he pays attention to everything you say, almost hanging on every word spilling from your lips, never making you say anything twice, but right now, fuck.

right now you feel loved in a way you never knew that existed, you feel so warm, so safe and comfortable that you wish to bathe yourself in this feeling for eternity, never once thinking of leaving this feeling. all the negative energy, all the thoughts of failure and the pain of final season wash away as you continue to look at your boyfriend, him returning your gaze of adoration twice as much.

“i love you.” you whisper, afraid of losing the moment.

jude leans forward to kiss your forehead, engulfing you with his scent.

“i love you even more.”

LETS FUCKING GOOOOIOOOOOOOO

(exams make me question my existence.)

[amethystarachnid]

PLEASE PLEASE pt 3 of “New Years Eve” that promise ring turning into a engagement ring one day 😍 that whole thing about marriage was so cute 😍 and I bet their parents would love some grandbabies 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

NEW YEAR EVE - part III

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Young!Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Timeline: they just finished college

ᯓ★ Word count: 7k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said + a little surprise at the end

ᯓ★ TW(s): some spicy scenes but nothing explicit

ᯓ★ Part I | Part II | Part IV

ᯓ★ Tony taglist: @groovy-lady

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The years after college blur together in a whirlwind of late nights, ambitious projects, and the exhilarating rush of success. Both of you have poured yourselves into your respective careers, with Tony inevitably making waves in the tech world and you earning accolades for your groundbreaking work in sustainable technology. It’s not just that you’re making money—you’re thriving.

The first time Tony mentions moving into a better apartment, you brush it off. “This place isn’t so bad,��� you tell him, running your fingers along the slightly warped kitchen counter that has seen better days. “It’s home.”

But Tony, being Tony, raises an eyebrow and grins. “Home is wherever you are, babe. But let’s be real—this place is one squeaky pipe away from falling apart. We can do better.”

He’s right, of course. You’ve both outgrown the cramped space, and within a week, he’s already scouted a stunning loft downtown. It’s the kind of apartment you used to joke about owning someday, with floor-to-ceiling windows, sleek modern finishes, and a view of the city that takes your breath away every time you look out.

Moving day is chaotic but fun. Tony insists on carrying the heaviest boxes himself, only to dramatically collapse onto the couch the moment you’re done unpacking. “I think I pulled something,” he groans, draping an arm over his forehead like a damsel in distress.

You laugh, nudging his leg with your foot. “That’s what you get for refusing to hire movers.”

“Movers wouldn’t have handled your plants with the same care,” he retorts, gesturing toward the cluster of greenery you’ve already set up in one corner.

“They’re fake plants, Tony.”

“They still deserve respect.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. The apartment already feels like yours, like it’s filled with the little quirks and comforts that make up your life together.

The first night in the new place is magical. You order takeout and eat it on the floor, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes. Tony lights candles he insists are for ambiance, though he nearly sets one of your sleeves on fire while adjusting them.

Later, as the city lights twinkle outside, you’re lying on the massive new bed, wrapped up in each other. Tony’s fingers trail lazily over your bare shoulder as he murmurs, “You know, this is just the beginning. You and me, we’re gonna build something incredible.”

“You mean more plants?” you tease, but your voice is soft, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his tone.

“I’m serious,” he says, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you. “Everything we’ve done so far—college, work, this place—it’s just the start. I want… everything with you. A house someday, a family, all of it.”

Your breath catches at the intensity in his eyes, and you nod, unable to find the right words. Instead, you pull him down for a kiss, one that deepens quickly, becoming a slow, burning exchange that leaves you both breathless.

The days in the new apartment settle into a comfortable rhythm. You cook together when you’re not working late, Tony’s attempts at chopping vegetables often ending with him grinning sheepishly as you take over. You spend lazy Sunday mornings tangled in bed, the sunlight streaming in through the windows as Tony refuses to let you get up.

One day, while you’re perched on a ladder trying to hang curtains, Tony comes up behind you, his hands steadying your waist. “Careful, future wife,” he says casually, and the words make you laugh despite the way your heart flips at how easily he throws them out.

“You can’t just call me that whenever you want, you know,” you tease, glancing down at him.

“Why not? It’s gonna be true eventually,” he replies with a smirk.

It becomes a running joke—or at least, you think it’s a joke. Every time he calls you “future wife” or “fiancée,” you roll your eyes, but the warmth in his voice always makes your stomach flutter.

One evening, after a long day at work, Tony insists on taking you out to dinner. He doesn’t say much about where you’re going, only that it’s “a surprise.” You’re too tired to argue, so you let him whisk you away in his sleek new car, the city lights blurring past the windows.

When you arrive, the restaurant is breathtaking. It’s perched on a rooftop, with a view of the skyline that rivals even your apartment’s. The table Tony reserved is tucked into a private corner, surrounded by twinkling fairy lights and soft candlelight.

“Wow,” you breathe as you take it all in.

“Only the best for you,” Tony says, grinning as he pulls out your chair.

The evening is perfect—great food, soft music, and Tony at his most charming. He’s in an unusually reflective mood, reminiscing about your college days and all the milestones you’ve hit since then.

As dessert arrives, your favorite kind of cake, Tony clears his throat. His usual bravado falters slightly, and you can tell he’s nervous.

“Okay, so,” he begins, reaching into his pocket. Your heart starts to race because you can already guess what’s coming.

“Tony…”

“Wait, let me do this right,” he says, cutting you off with a crooked smile. “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I wanted to wait until the timing was perfect, but honestly, every day with you feels perfect, so why wait anymore?”

He pulls out a small velvet box and opens it to reveal a stunning diamond ring, its delicate design exactly the kind of understated elegance you’d imagined.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes. “You’re my everything. My partner, my best friend, my future. Will you marry me?”

Tears spill down your cheeks as you nod, too overwhelmed to speak at first. “Yes,” you finally manage, your voice breaking. “Of course, yes.”

Tony slips the ring onto your finger, then stands to pull you into a tight embrace. The restaurant staff applauds, but all you can hear is the pounding of your heart and the soft murmurs of love from Tony as he holds you close.

That night, back at the apartment, you can’t keep your hands off each other. The passion between you is electric, charged with the promise of forever. Tony’s kisses are fervent, his touch reverent, and the way he whispers “fiancée” against your skin sends shivers down your spine.

As you lie together afterward, your head resting on his chest, you glance down at the ring on your finger. It glints softly in the low light, a tangible symbol of the love and commitment you share.

Tony presses a kiss to your temple, his voice soft as he murmurs, “So… when do you want to start planning this wedding?”

You laugh, snuggling closer. “Let’s enjoy being engaged for a little while first.”

“Deal,” he says, wrapping his arms around you.

And as you drift off to sleep, you know that whatever the future holds, you’ll face it together, hand in hand.

Organizing a dinner for both sets of parents feels like a bigger event than either of you expected. Tony insists on handling the arrangements, booking a private dining room at one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city. “It’s not every day we drop life-changing news on them,” he says with a grin, leaning against the counter as you look over the guest list.

The dinner is scheduled for a Saturday evening, giving you just enough time to overthink every possible outcome. You’re nervous—not because you think the news will go badly, but because there’s something so monumental about the idea of your families sitting together, your lives becoming that much more intertwined.

When the night arrives, the private dining room is elegant but welcoming, the table set with crisp linens and softly glowing candles. Tony is uncharacteristically fidgety, straightening his tie every few minutes and checking his watch.

“Relax,” you say, taking his hand. “They’re going to love this.”

“I know,” he replies, flashing you a crooked smile. “But I also know my dad. He’s going to make a scene about something, and I want to be ready for it.”

You squeeze his hand, grounding him. “We’ll handle it. Together.”

The first to arrive are your mom and younger brother. Your mom beams as soon as she sees you, pulling you into a tight hug while your brother mutters a teasing comment about how fancy everything looks.

Tony’s parents arrive shortly after, Howard looking as stately as ever while Maria radiates warmth. They greet your family politely, Maria exchanging pleasantries with your mom as if they’ve known each other for years.

As everyone takes their seats, the conversation flows surprisingly smoothly. Your mom and Maria bond over shared stories of raising their children, while Howard listens intently to your brother talk about his plans for college. Tony, ever the charmer, keeps things light and entertaining, ensuring there’s never a dull moment.

Once the main courses are cleared, Tony catches your eye and nods subtly. You take a deep breath, your heart racing as you prepare to share the news.

“So,” Tony begins, leaning forward slightly, “we have something we want to tell you all.”

Maria’s eyes light up, and she immediately clasps her hands together. “Oh my goodness, are you… are you having a baby?”

The question catches you so off guard that you almost choke on your water. “What? No!”

Your mom gasps, her expression flipping from surprise to amusement as she laughs. “Maria, let them finish!”

Tony, meanwhile, looks like he’s having the time of his life. “Not yet,” he says with a playful smirk, “but I’ll let you know when we get there. No, the news is…” He takes your hand in his, lifting it slightly so everyone can see the ring on your finger. “We’re engaged.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then the room erupts into cheers and congratulations. Maria is on her feet in seconds, hugging you tightly while your mom dabs at her eyes with a napkin. Howard stands and shakes Tony’s hand, the closest thing to emotional you’ve ever seen him, while your brother teases Tony about finally making an honest woman out of you.

“You kept this a secret?” Maria asks, pulling back to look at you with mock outrage. “How could you not tell me immediately?”

“It only just happened,” you explain, laughing. “We wanted to share it with you all together.”

Howard claps Tony on the shoulder, his voice gruff but approving. “You’ve done well, son. You’ve made your choice, and it’s a good one.”

Tony’s grin is soft, his gaze flickering toward you. “Yeah, I think so too.”

The conversation turns lively as everyone begins asking questions about the wedding. When will it be? Where will it be? How big is the guest list?

“We’re still figuring all that out,” you say, glancing at Tony for confirmation. “We wanted to enjoy being engaged for a little while first.”

Maria nods, her smile warm. “That’s wise. There’s no need to rush. But if you need help with anything, don’t hesitate to ask. Weddings are such beautiful celebrations, and I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”

Howard, however, clears his throat, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Now that you’re taking this step, Tony, it’s time we talk about the family business.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, clearly curious but cautious. “What about it?”

“It’s time for you to have access,” Howard says simply. “You’ve proven yourself—your success in college, the work you’ve done since then, the way you’ve taken responsibility for your life. I think you’re ready to start taking on more.”

Tony looks stunned for a moment, the weight of his father’s words sinking in. You can see the mix of pride and determination in his expression as he nods. “I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” Howard replies.

Maria, ever the peacemaker, redirects the conversation with a bright smile. “And while we’re on the subject of family… I hope you know we’ll be expecting grand-babies someday. No pressure, of course.”

Your mom laughs, joining in the teasing. “Oh, absolutely. I’d love to spoil some grandchildren. But, like Maria said—no pressure.”

Tony grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Well, don’t hold your breath. We’ve got a wedding to plan first.”

The rest of the evening is filled with laughter and stories, the kind of warmth that makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world. As the night winds down, Maria pulls you aside, her eyes soft as she says, “I’m so happy for you both. You’re perfect for each other.”

“Thank you,” you reply, your voice thick with emotion. “That means so much to me.”

By the time you and Tony get home, you’re both buzzing from the success of the night. Tony kicks off his shoes and pulls you into a slow, lingering kiss, his hands warm against your back.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours.

“So are you,” you reply, threading your fingers through his hair.

The night ends in a tangle of sheets and whispered promises, the kind of passion that reminds you why you said yes in the first place. As you fall asleep in his arms, the future feels brighter than ever, full of love, laughter, and the shared dreams you’re building together.

Planning the wedding starts almost immediately after the engagement dinner. Maria, ever the enthusiast, insists on helping, and while Tony initially tries to claim he doesn’t care about the details, he quickly gets invested in anything that allows him to be over the top.

“Let’s rent out a castle,” he suggests one evening, sprawled out on the couch with you as you scroll through wedding venues.

You snort. “A castle? In New York? Sure, Tony, let me just call up my royal connections.”

He smirks. “Hey, I’m just saying, Stark and future Stark deserve a wedding that screams power couple.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling. “How about something a little less medieval? Something classy, but not ‘Tony Stark just bought an island’ level of extravagant?”

After weeks of searching, you finally settle on a stunning estate just outside the city. It has everything—a grand ballroom, a breathtaking garden for the ceremony, and enough space to accommodate both your families and the absurd number of people Tony insists on inviting.

Next comes the dress shopping, and it’s the one thing Tony is explicitly banned from seeing.

“You know,” he teases as you head out with Maria and your mom for the fitting, “I could totally hack into the bridal shop’s database and—”

“Don’t you dare,” you warn, pointing a finger at him. “This is the one tradition we’re sticking to.”

He sighs dramatically. “Fine. But if I die from the suspense, just know it’s on you.”

Shopping for the dress is an emotional experience. Your mom wipes away tears every time you step out in a new gown, and Maria makes sure you’re getting nothing but the best. After trying on at least a dozen dresses, you finally find the one. It’s perfect—elegant, timeless, and when you see yourself in the mirror, you can actually picture yourself walking down the aisle to Tony.

Meanwhile, Tony takes it upon himself to handle the cake tasting. “You don’t even like cake,” you remind him when he schedules five different bakery appointments.

“I like this cake,” he argues, stuffing a bite of red velvet into his mouth. “Besides, I’m doing my duty as a supportive fiancé. Can’t let my future wife eat subpar cake on our big day.”

The cake is ultimately decided—a mix of flavors to satisfy both of you, with a stunning design that Tony jokingly suggests should have “Stark Industries” written in gold across the front.

Between booking florists, hiring musicians, and designing invitations, the months fly by. Everything is falling into place, and with only five months left until the wedding, you feel like you’re finally getting everything under control.

Then you miss your period.

At first, you brush it off. Stress, excitement—there are a million reasons your cycle might be off. But as the days pass, the nagging thought in the back of your mind won’t go away. It takes you another week to finally go out and buy a test, and when the little plus sign appears, you almost drop it in shock.

You’re pregnant.

You sit on the bathroom floor for a long time, trying to process the news. It’s not bad news—not at all. But it changes things. And Tony. You have no idea how Tony is going to react.

That’s when a devilish idea strikes. You decide to make it as dramatic as possible.

That evening, you sit Tony down on the couch, taking his hands in yours with a somber expression.

“We need to talk,” you say, keeping your voice serious.

Tony immediately straightens, his playful smirk fading. “Uh-oh. What did I do?”

You bite your lip, forcing yourself to keep a straight face. “I think… I think we need to cancel the wedding.”

His entire body tenses. “What?”

“Or at least push it back,” you continue, watching the panic set in. “I just don’t think I can do it, Tony.”

His eyes widen in sheer horror. “What?! What did I do? I—Was it the thing with the catering? Because I swear, I didn’t actually mean to offend the guy, I was just saying that sushi is a risky—”

“Tony.” You grip his hands tighter, trying so hard not to laugh at how distraught he looks. “It’s not that.”

“Then what? Do you—do you not want to get married?” His voice is suddenly quieter, more vulnerable, and your heart clenches.

You let out a dramatic sigh before finally giving him the truth. “I just… I don’t want to walk down the aisle looking like a balloon.”

There’s a beat of silence. Tony blinks. His eyebrows furrow. Then realization dawns.

He glances at your stomach, then back at you. “Wait. Wait. Are you—are you saying—?”

You nod, biting your lip. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, he’s completely still. Then his eyes widen, and he lets out a strangled sound, somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. “You’re pregnant?!”

You barely have time to react before he’s pulling you into his arms, burying his face in your shoulder. You feel his chest rise and fall in a shaky breath, and when he pulls back, his eyes are glossy with unshed tears.

“You’re serious?” he asks, his voice cracking.

You nod again, and he lets out a breathless laugh, cupping your face in his hands. “We’re having a baby?”

“We’re having a baby,” you confirm, grinning.

That’s when the tears actually spill over. Tony Stark—genius, billionaire, self-proclaimed coolest guy ever—is crying. Happy, overwhelmed tears.

He presses kisses all over your face, whispering, “I love you. I love you so much. We’re having a baby. Oh my God.”

Then, suddenly, he freezes. “Wait. You let me think you were canceling the wedding?”

You burst into laughter. “I had to make it dramatic!”

He groans, burying his face in your neck again. “You’re the worst. The worst.”

But you can feel the way he’s smiling against your skin. His hands find their way to your stomach, resting there gently, reverently. “I can’t believe this,” he murmurs. “I get to marry you, and we’re going to have a kid.”

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close. “I love you.”

He lifts his head, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you too. And for the record, I don’t care when we get married. Pregnant, not pregnant—you’d be the most beautiful bride either way.”

Your heart melts. “Smooth, Stark.”

“Always.”

That night, he’s extra affectionate—his hands never leave your stomach, even as things grow more heated between you. It’s different this time—more intense, more meaningful. Every kiss, every touch is filled with love and excitement for the future.

And as you fall asleep in his arms, one thought lingers in your mind:

This is just the beginning.

Telling Tony had been fun. Telling your parents? That was going to be legendary.

Tony had insisted that if you were going to be dramatic with him, then you both had to be dramatic with your families. It was only fair. And honestly? You were completely on board.

So, a week later, you and Tony invite both sets of parents to dinner at your place. Maria and Howard arrive first, looking elegant as always, while your mom and brother walk in a little more casual but just as curious. Everyone settles around the dining table, making polite conversation, but you and Tony exchange glances.

It’s time.

Tony clears his throat, tapping his fork against his glass as if he’s making a wedding toast. “We’ve gathered you all here today for a very important announcement.”

Maria straightens in her chair, her eyes flickering between the two of you. “Oh? Is this about the wedding?”

“Actually…” You take a deep breath, biting back a smile. “It’s about the wedding date.”

Your mom frowns. “What about it?”

You sigh dramatically. “We’re thinking of postponing it.”

There’s a beat of silence before chaos erupts.

“What?!” Maria exclaims, sitting up straighter.

Howard raises an eyebrow but remains quiet, waiting for an explanation.

Your mom immediately turns to Tony. “What did you do?”

Your brother, completely missing the tension in the room, shoves another piece of bread into his mouth. “Did she finally realize she’s too good for you?”

“Hey!” Tony glares at him before turning back to the group. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Then why postpone it?” Maria presses, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

You exchange another glance with Tony, your lips twitching. “It’s just… I don’t want to walk down the aisle looking like a balloon.”

More silence. Then—

Maria gasps.

Howard chokes on his drink.

Your mom’s eyes widen.

Your brother? Still eating.

Maria is the first to recover. “Are you—” Her voice catches. “Are you saying—?”

Tony grins, wrapping an arm around you. “We’re having a baby.”

The room erupts again, but this time with joy. Maria lets out a small, delighted shriek, covering her mouth as her eyes well up. Your mom jumps out of her seat to hug you, already crying. Howard claps Tony on the back, murmuring something about how he’d better be ready to be a dad.

Your brother finally stops eating long enough to blink at you. “Wait. You’re pregnant?”

Tony smirks. “Way to keep up, buddy.”

Your brother shrugs. “Cool. Can I name it?”

Your mom glares at him. “Absolutely not.”

Maria, meanwhile, is already in full planning mode. “We need to start thinking about a nursery! And have you been to the doctor yet? When’s your first ultrasound?”

Your mom nods eagerly. “And have you thought about names? Do you know the gender yet?”

You laugh, overwhelmed but incredibly happy. “It’s still really early. We just found out last week.”

Howard, despite his usual reserved nature, is smiling. “Well, I suppose this means I’ll finally get to be a grandfather. Stark Enterprises will have an heir.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Relax, Dad. We’re not raising the next CEO in the womb.”

Howard smirks. “We’ll see.”

Maria wipes away a tear before reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. “This is wonderful news, sweetheart. You’re going to be an amazing mother.”

Your mom nods. “And Tony—” she gives him a look “—you’d better take good care of her.”

Tony places a hand over his heart. “Always.”

Your brother, not one to be left out, finally grins. “So, when do I start teaching the kid how to throw a football?”

Tony scoffs. “Oh, please. If anything, I’ll be the one teaching them engineering before they can even walk.”

Your mom groans. “God help this child.”

The rest of the night is spent talking about the baby, the wedding, and how this little life growing inside of you is already so loved.

And as Tony squeezes your hand under the table, you know that no matter what happens next, you’ll be doing it together.

Tony insists on driving even though the doctor's office isn’t far. His fingers drum anxiously against the steering wheel at every red light, his eyes flicking to you every few seconds as if you might suddenly need something. You try not to laugh, because honestly, it's sweet seeing him like this, but you also don’t want to encourage his nerves.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the leather if you keep doing that,” you say, nodding toward his tapping fingers.

Tony stops immediately, flexes his hands, then grips the wheel tighter. “I’m fine.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“I just… I mean, yeah. I’m good.” He clears his throat, shifting in his seat. “Totally cool.”

He’s totally not cool.

By the time you get to the clinic, Tony’s opened your car door before you’ve even unbuckled your seatbelt. He hovers close as you step out, his hand automatically going to your lower back. The waiting room is quiet, the receptionist offering a warm smile as she checks you in.

Tony, however, looks ready to interrogate the entire staff.

“They know what they’re doing here, right?” he murmurs as you both take a seat.

You give him a look. “Tony. We have the best doctor in the city.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says, exhaling sharply. “But still.”

You take his hand, squeezing it. He squeezes back, his knee bouncing slightly.

When your name is called, Tony stands faster than you do, helping you up like you suddenly can’t walk on your own. The nurse leads you into the exam room, and as you sit on the table, Tony remains standing, arms crossed, eyes scanning every medical instrument like he’s memorizing them for later questioning.

The doctor enters with a warm smile, introducing herself even though you both already know who she is. She’s friendly, experienced, and exactly the kind of person you’d hoped for.

“So,” she says, glancing between you and Tony. “First pregnancy?”

Tony nods before you can even answer. “Yeah. And we want to make sure everything’s perfect. No mistakes.”

The doctor chuckles. “Well, we’ll do our best to make sure everything goes smoothly. Let’s start with some basics.”

She asks a few routine questions, goes over dietary recommendations, and gives you a list of vitamins. Tony takes mental notes like he’s going to be quizzed on them later. Then comes the part that makes your heart race a little—the first ultrasound.

The doctor sets everything up, explaining what she’s doing, and as the screen flickers to life, you grip Tony’s hand tightly. He’s holding his breath, eyes locked on the monitor.

“There’s the little one,” the doctor says, pointing.

Tony freezes. “Wait. That’s it?”

You blink at the tiny dot on the screen. It doesn’t look like much yet, but your heart swells at the sight.

The doctor nods. “That’s your baby.”

Tony doesn’t speak for a moment, just stares at the screen, his jaw slack. Then he exhales a breathless laugh. “Holy shit.”

You squeeze his hand. “Pretty amazing, huh?”

Tony swallows hard, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

The doctor prints out a few images for you, goes over some final instructions, and schedules your next appointment. As you leave, Tony holds onto the ultrasound pictures like they’re the most valuable thing he’s ever owned.

The ride home is quieter, but not in a bad way. Tony keeps sneaking glances at the pictures in his hand, his expression unreadable.

When you finally step inside your apartment, Tony immediately goes into full protective mode.

“Okay,” he says, setting the pictures carefully on the counter. “New rules. You don’t lift anything heavy. No more stress. We’re eating all the right foods. And I’m handling everything, so you just have to sit back and relax.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Tony—”

“I’m serious.” He steps closer, hands on your shoulders. “You need anything, anything, you tell me. I don’t care if it’s two in the morning and you suddenly want ice cream from across the city. I’m getting it.”

You smile, leaning into him. “You’re already the best dad ever.”

Tony smirks. “Damn right I am.”

That night, as you get into bed, Tony’s arms automatically wrap around you, holding you close. But then, to your surprise, he shifts, propping himself up slightly.

Then he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your stomach.

“Hey, kid,” he murmurs. “It’s me. Your ridiculously cool dad.”

You bite your lip, watching him with warmth in your chest.

“I know you’re not really doing much yet,” Tony continues, his fingers brushing your skin. “But I just want you to know we’re already so freaking excited about you. And I promise I’m gonna be the best dad ever. Just, you know, give me a heads-up before you decide to make your grand entrance, alright?”

You laugh softly, running your fingers through his hair. “Talking to them already?”

Tony grins up at you. “Of course. Gotta make sure they know how awesome their life is gonna be.”

You cup his cheek, bringing him up to kiss you. “I love you, you know that?”

Tony smiles against your lips. “Yeah. And I love you too. Both of you.”

As he settles back down, arms still wrapped protectively around you, you know that no matter what comes next, you’re going to be okay. Because you have Tony. And he’s already proving to be the best partner and father you could ever ask for.

Tony has been obsessed with your belly ever since it started showing. It’s a slow change at first, a slight curve that he constantly traces his fingers over at night, but by the time you hit five months, there’s no hiding it anymore. You’re officially pregnant pregnant, and Tony takes it upon himself to remind you every chance he gets.

"Look at you," he says one morning, standing behind you as you stare at yourself in the mirror. His hands rest on your stomach, fingers splayed out like he can already feel the baby moving beneath them. "Absolutely stunning. My two favorite girls in one place."

You roll your eyes, but you can't fight the smile that tugs at your lips. "You don't even know if it's a girl yet."

Tony smirks. "I have a feeling."

The gender reveal party is his idea, of course. He wants something big, something dramatic, and naturally, he insists on making it a surprise for both of you. The only person who knows the gender is your younger brother, who’s taken his role as the secret keeper way too seriously.

The party itself is extravagant, but that’s to be expected. Tony doesn’t do anything halfway. Your families gather at a beautiful outdoor venue, decorated in both pink and blue, with tables full of food and an entire section dedicated to baby-themed desserts. There's even a betting board where guests can guess the gender, and Tony, confident as ever, has already placed his bet on a girl.

"You're going to lose," you tease as you watch him add another tally mark to the girl column.

Tony wraps an arm around your waist, resting his free hand on your belly. "No way. I know my daughter is in there."

"You mean our child."

"Our baby girl," he corrects, winking.

When it's finally time for the reveal, everyone gathers around, buzzing with excitement. Your brother stands off to the side, grinning mischievously as he sets everything up. The reveal method? A giant balloon filled with colored powder, because of course, Tony wanted something flashy.

"Alright, lovebirds," your brother calls. "Time to pop this thing and see if I'm getting a niece or a nephew."

Tony takes the pin in his hand and turns to you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Ready, future Mrs. Stark?"

You shake your head at the unnecessary dramatics but nod, placing your hand over his. Together, you pop the balloon, and in an instant, a cloud of pink explodes into the air.

The crowd erupts into cheers, but all you hear is Tony's loud, triumphant "I KNEW IT!" as he lifts you into the air, spinning you around.

"A girl," you whisper, eyes wide with happiness. "We're having a little girl."

Tony sets you down, cupping your face in his hands. "I told you. I'm always right."

You laugh, smacking his chest lightly. "She's not even here yet, and you're already smug."

"Damn right." He kisses you, long and deep, before pulling away with a dazed smile. "I'm gonna spoil the hell out of this kid."

The rest of the party is a whirlwind of hugs, congratulations, and Tony gloating to anyone who will listen about how he knew it was a girl. Your families are ecstatic, Maria already talking about all the beautiful dresses she'll buy and Howard muttering about how another Stark genius is on the way. Your mom is in tears, overjoyed at the thought of having a granddaughter, and your brother looks relieved that his secret-keeping days are finally over.

A few days after the party, Tony springs another surprise on you—he's booked a pregnancy photoshoot.

"You're glowing," he insists when you try to protest. "We need to capture this moment."

So, despite your initial reluctance, you find yourself standing in a gorgeous studio, dressed in a flowing white gown that highlights your bump. The photographer is incredible, making you feel comfortable as she directs your poses, and after a few shots, you start to enjoy yourself.

Tony, of course, sits to the side, watching you with a look of pure awe.

"You look unreal," he murmurs when there's a break between shots.

You raise an eyebrow. "You say that like I’m an illusion."

He stands, walking over to you, his hands finding your belly. "You kind of are. You're carrying our baby. Do you know how insane that is?"

You smile softly, covering his hands with yours. "I think about it every day."

The photographer clears her throat. "Would you like to join in, Tony?"

Tony smirks. "Thought you'd never ask."

He changes into a button-down and slacks in record time, and before you know it, he's standing behind you, his hands resting on your belly as he presses a kiss to your temple. The photographer captures it perfectly.

"Alright," she says, directing you both into another pose. "Tony, can you kneel in front of her?"

Tony immediately drops to one knee, kissing your belly before resting his forehead against it. "Hey, baby girl," he whispers. "You're already the best thing to ever happen to me."

You blink back tears as the camera clicks, and at that moment, you know these photos will be some of your most cherished memories.

When the session is over, Tony doesn’t let go of you immediately. He keeps his hands on your belly, rubbing gentle circles. "You’re breathtaking," he murmurs.

You chuckle, resting your forehead against his. "I’m huge."

"You're perfect," he corrects. "And I’m madly in love with you."

You kiss him, slow and deep, your heart full.

Tony smirks against your lips. "So, what do you say we head home and continue celebrating our baby girl?"

You roll your eyes, but you can’t deny the way warmth spreads through your body at the suggestion. "You never stop, do you?"

"Not when it comes to you," he murmurs, his hands tightening around your waist.

And as he pulls you in for another kiss, you realize that no matter how much things change, one thing will always stay the same—Tony Stark is completely and utterly in love with you.

ony is pacing.

He never paces.

But right now, as you grip his hand with enough strength to cut off circulation, as doctors and nurses move around you in a blur, as the reality of what’s happening fully settles in—he can’t help himself.

You’re in labor. His baby is about to arrive.

And despite all the months of preparation, of books he skimmed through, of doctor’s appointments he never missed, of baby-proofing the penthouse like a madman—he is terrified.

"You're doing great, sweetheart," he says, though his voice is slightly panicked. His other hand wipes sweat from your forehead, his thumb brushing over your temple. "So great. The best. Ten out of ten. Would recommend."

You shoot him a look between contractions, your face contorted in pain. "Tony—if you don’t shut up—"

"Right, yeah. Shutting up."

He doesn’t, though. He keeps whispering encouragements, keeps pressing kisses to your knuckles, keeps trying not to freak out because you are pushing his daughter into the world, and holy hell, he has never loved you more than in this moment.

And then it happens.

A tiny, sharp cry pierces through the room, cutting through the chaos, silencing everything else.

Tony stops breathing.

The doctors move quickly, cleaning her up, wrapping her in a soft pink blanket. The moment they place her in your arms, everything in the world shifts.

She is perfect.

"Layla," you whisper, your voice full of awe.

Tony sits beside you, eyes locked on the little face peeking out from the blanket. She is so small, so delicate, with dark tufts of hair and the softest little hands that flex in the air. His heart is hammering in his chest, and when she lets out a tiny sigh, he is officially a goner.

"She’s—she’s so beautiful," he breathes, reaching out a trembling hand to stroke her cheek. "She looks just like you."

You laugh softly, tired but happy. "I think she has your nose."

Tony swipes at his eyes, overwhelmed. "She’s gonna be a menace, just like her dad."

"God help us."

When the nurses take her for a moment to check her vitals, Tony watches them like a hawk. His protective instincts are already in overdrive. The second they hand her back, he doesn’t hesitate.

"Can I—?" His voice is rough, full of emotion.

You nod, carefully passing Layla into his arms.

The second she settles against his chest, something deep inside Tony shifts.

He has done a lot in his life. He has built things, created things, changed the world in ways most people never will. But this? This little girl, looking up at him with barely-open eyes? This is his greatest achievement.

"Hey, baby girl," he murmurs, rocking her gently. "I’m your dad."

Layla makes a tiny noise, her mouth parting in a sleepy yawn.

Tony lets out a choked laugh. "Yeah, I know. I’m pretty great. You’re lucky you got me."

You roll your eyes, but the sight of Tony holding her so tenderly, looking at her like she’s the most precious thing in the universe, fills you with indescribable love.

The door opens, and your families rush in. Maria is the first to reach you, her eyes misty as she takes in the sight of her granddaughter.

"Oh, Tony," she breathes, pressing a hand to her heart. "She’s—she’s absolutely precious."

Howard, usually composed, clears his throat, visibly emotional. "Congratulations, son."

Your mother is already crying, rushing to your bedside and kissing your forehead. Your brother grins, peering over Tony’s shoulder to get a look at the baby. "She’s tiny," he observes.

"She’s perfect," Tony corrects, not looking away from her.

Layla Stark is officially the most loved baby in existence.

Bringing her home is an entirely new adventure.

Tony refuses to let anyone else carry her into the penthouse. He’s been watching every single movement she makes like a paranoid watchdog, convinced that she’s too fragile for the world.

When you finally settle onto the couch with her, Tony perches beside you, eyes locked onto Layla’s tiny face.

"So," you say, amused. "How does it feel to officially be a dad?"

Tony exhales, running a hand through his hair. "Like I’m holding the entire universe in my arms and I have to make sure nothing ever hurts her."

Your heart melts. "You’re already an amazing father, you know that?"

He scoffs but can’t hide his smile. "I better be. You and Layla deserve the best."

The first few nights are exhausting. Layla is up every two hours, and while you try to let Tony sleep, he refuses to leave you alone with her.

He is obsessed with watching you two.

And then, the inevitable moment happens.

One night, you’re sitting on the bed, exhausted, as Layla starts fussing. Without thinking twice, you unclip your nursing bra and guide her to your breast.

Tony, who had been half-asleep beside you, sits up immediately.

"Whoa."

You blink at him. "What?"

His eyes are locked onto you, specifically onto the fact that Layla is latched onto your breast. His ears turn red.

"Nothing, just—wow. This is… new."

You snort. "Tony, it’s literally just feeding her."

"I know that," he says, dragging a hand down his face. "It’s just—multitasking. You’re being a mom, but you’re also… you."

You laugh. "You’re ridiculous."

Tony sighs dramatically. "This is gonna take some getting used to."

Despite his embarrassment, he helps however he can. He’s up for every diaper change, every late-night rocking session, and every sleepy cuddle.

One afternoon, as Layla naps on his chest, you bring up the wedding.

"I was thinking," you say, running a hand through his hair. "Maybe we could finally set a date? When Layla’s about four months old?"

Tony stiffens, then lifts his head. "Nope."

You blink. "What do you mean, nope?"

He carefully shifts Layla off his chest and sits up, looking at you seriously.

"You just gave birth," he says. "You’re recovering. We have a newborn. The last thing you need to worry about is wedding planning."

"But—"

He silences you with a kiss.

"Later," he murmurs. "We’ll think about it later. Right now, all that matters is you, me, and Layla."

You sigh, but you know he’s right.

And as he pulls you into his arms, kissing your forehead while your daughter sleeps peacefully beside you, you realize—there’s no rush.

Because no matter what, you and Tony already have everything you’ve ever wanted.

[stgosupremacy]

Hi so this is me ranting about Ash being Goh's n01 supporter in project mew 😍 (as he always is ofc)

"I wanna join. Project Mew! For sure!"

love that cute sneaky side view

"You know what? I'm gonna cheer you on with all my might!"

the way he said you sounded a bit like it was a thank you for goh always cheering on ash during his battles 🥺 (it also sounds like I'm analysing too much again looooooooollllllllllll)

I always thought this was Ash just being dead supportive to Goh like he always is but he meant this so much 😭😭😭💗

"You're coming too, Ash?" (the hand on goh's shoulder omg and ash looks so cute idfjkmf)

"I promised I'd always cheer you on, didnt I?"

everyone smiling around them lol (they so know whats going on)

"I'll clear the mission for sure!"

"That's the spirit, Goh!" (always so supportive 🥺💖)

STOP HE'S SO HAPPY TO BE ALLOWED TO GO WITH GOHH AW 🥺

"You failed. You'd be toast if I hadn't saved you."

"Wait just a second, what are you talking about failed!?"

i love how as soon as ash sees goh's sad face he gets his protective boyfriend mode activated 🥰🥰🥺

"Good for you, Goh! I'm fired up about this too!"

i am so tempted to make a post on how touchy these guys are bc oh my god they are so touchy 💀💀 and hellllllll ash was not lying at all about being fired up about project mew, the entire trial period it was almost like ash was taking the missions, bless him 💖😂

"I'll help any way I can!"

it's so sweet to me ash constantly reminds gohof this fact <3

look at danika leaning in the back guys she knows

god ive talked ab this episode far too recently to rant about it here but 🥺😂

"You can count on us! Dont let it win!"

🥰the way ash looks at him

"Plus, I'll be there, you'll be fine!"

no words from me just pure SUPPPPPPPPPPPORTTTTTTTTTT is radiating here (and also goh looking like he's crushing bad)

"Only the challenger is allowed in this mission."

"You've gotta be kidding!"

bless the way he seems so fed up when danika says he cant come- LIKE CMON CAN THEY GET ANY CUTER??? 😭

but as soon as goh says this.....

"No worries Ash, I'm sure i'll be succesful!" (his smile is so sweet)

"You're right Goh, just make sure to pass that mission!"

...Then ash is totally supportive of it if Goh's fine with it too 💗

"Right?" 🥰

"Right!"

yeah....sorry i had to include that it was so cute

"Goh!"

"Dankia, did you do this on purpose!?" the way ash is so stressed for goh for literally no reason but his safety, enter: PROTECTIVE BOYFRIEND MODE ACTIVATED AGAIN WOOOOOOO

HE LOOKS SO SAD WHEN GOH DOESNT GET ANY TOKENS STOPPP 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

the way ash is looking at him so intently...i cannot 💀💀💀💀💀

"This time I'm going by myself."

"WHAT? HOW COME?" 😨😨 (that literally deserves to be in caps because he indeed shouted it lol ) he sounds so in disbelief, it's so sweet he just sees going along with Goh everywhere now his second nature 😭💙💙💙

but after goh explaining why, then ash just smiles and wishes goh the best of luck (as he always does bc he's just happy goh is happy)

like

why is this boy so precious

"I made it through!" I SEE THAT BLUSH HEAJDKAJ (it was obviously from excitement but blushing goh is quite rare in ultimate jrnys and he looks too cute when he does it) 😂

"No joke?! Congratulations Goh!"

YAYYYY HES SO HAPPY 4 HIM 🤗🤗

"Thanks to you, Ash!" 🥰🥺💖

"Thanks to all of your hard work!" STOPP LIKE the way how he tries to deflect the praise back onto goh makes me smile every time but yk so does this entire scene at this point

right the way goh ends the call and breathes out as soon as he does is definetelyy not gay at all 🤨🤨🤨 (fr tho they make each other so happy and i'm always living for it....if you havent noticed)

...right i should stop thats enough for today

[the-kr8tor]

Hobie as an ancient plant golem!@!@

He stands almost as high and tall as the trees, bending down as he picks you up in his palm with a curious look behind his amber-like golden eyes. Almost smiling, mystified by the appearance of a human, so far away from civilization. Now taking up camping and hiking had been great, until now, you stood frozen in the presence of something...someone....much much much more ancient than you.

His voice is smooth, yet almost booming in your ears and echoing in your mind when he first asks for your name. Then he realizes he may be just a tad bit too intimidating when you don't respond, so he opts to shift into a more human-like form in the hopes to comfort you. Even when sitting down he towers over you, he asks you questions about modern life, he's curious about everything. But especially as to why humans are destroying the world, their home, his home.

He admits to having...perhaps destroyed a few pipelines. A few...unethical projects. He truly hated greed, yet you seemed thankful enough. To him you were a good bit different and yet just as the same as any other human. You were...you. That lured him in, and he'd get playful. He'd get more and more entranced with your energy, with how you always seemed so patient to explain to him your world. He fell in love. Which would have been his final mistake as a Golem. He shouldn't, but how could he have not had the heart to do so when you'd look at him with the sweetest smile. He liked compliments from you, touches felt electric. Yet he was so old and knew so little of love the way humans experience it.

So when he saw from a distance with his supernatural eyesight in the town over that one could exchange flowers with another in terms to woo someone he just had to try.

-🪦

🚨 NEW AU ALERT 🚨

You're straight up cooking with this!!! You know i love my mystical aus *cough* fae au *cough*

Wixnkwjskwd the way he's holding onto you so delicately while you stare at him in awe!! AND HE EVEN SHIFTED TO A MORE HUMAN LIKE FORM SO HE DOESN'T SCARE YOU?!!! OH HE'S A SWEETHEART!!!!

I can imagine him having pretty vines and flowers growing all over him and you can't help but look at him fondly 😍

AHHHHHHH HE'S GONNA GIVE YOU FLOWERS BECAUSE HE SAW PPL DO IT FOR THEIR LOVED ONES AISNWLZNKWKWKSJJE 🥹🥹🥹

[deafeningfanlight23]

Sun and Moon Designs for TSAMS AU + Rant! :] (I LIKE PSYCHOLOGY OKAY :'D)

I'M BACK Y'ALL I PULLED A WILLIAM AFTON! ✨💃 And because I have nothing to do, I will waste my time that I have on the Earth to talk about things THAT SHOULD BE TALKED ABOUT BY EVERYONE: THE SUN AND MOON SHOW! >:D

SUN'S SECTION

(Sun uses he/she pronouns in my story so don't be confused if I address her with she! :D)

I have ALWAYS imagined her with this over-the-top outfit, y'know, where you get an eye-strain - A bunch of colors slapped on the fabric with a radiating, never-ending positivity and sunshine coming from it all! :]

BUT, because he is one of my favorite characters and my top kin, OF COURSE HE GONNA HAVE TRAUMA that's my love language 😍✋ (I show affection this way don't mind me 💅😋)

This outfit is like the POLAR OPPOSITE of how he is feeling on the inside, and that's how I intended it to be (SUBTLE STORYTELLING OHHH Shakespear is in DA HOUSE >:D) - Because this is a part of this facade that he has been keeping up, one of positivity and joy, optimism and something else but I ran out of adjectives ;D

With this happy-go-lucky persona, she tries (and often fails) to cover up and hide this shadowy, nagging void and this untreated and messy pile of self-hatred, self-doubts and endless trauma that becomes increasingly intertwined! :D FUN AIN'T IT >:D

Sundrop also has a RELENTLESS inferiority complex that nearly paralyses and stunts him - That he is of less worth, that he is a burden and failure to his family and everyone around him, and that no matter how much he tries (and his lack of tries thereof), he will always be beneath everyone. And to be honest, he eventually accepted this role because he thought that's just how things are supposed to be, and that's the only place where he CAN'T do nothing wrong and can't disappoint anybody, because everyone else does the work while he stays in the sidelines and is stuck as the passive observer. He can't mess ANYTHING up through this, and that's good. Although it makes him feel so, SO feel useless, so much so that it feels like it chokes him around the throat like a noose whenever he sees his siblings (especially Moon) work so hard on keeping this piece of shit, HIM, safe, despite him doing NOTHING in return to even deserve this.

I have SO MUCH to tell about Sundrop and her psychology, it's just so fascinating and interesting! There are so many tiny, moving parts and pieces that make her the anxious, traumatized mess she is who can BARELY hold herself together and is about to snap! (and it helped me to kinda cope cuz I projected like 1000% issues of mine onto her :3 SO I GUESS THIS WAS JUST ME TRAUMA-DUMPING AND VENTING BUT SNEAKY, I evil genius 🤭)

ANYWAY, HERE IS SUNNYBOY! :D

This is my favorite so far because I also just slapped my own style onto him >:D AND YEAH I HAVE GOOD TASTE, I KNOW 💅✨ /j :D

Sun has a more "feminine" style and also an eyelash on the left eye because, in my story, he is a demigirl and uses he/she pronouns as mentioned :D I also gave him MANY earrings and details to emphasize kind of the randomness of his outfit and also the subtle randomness, or a more fitting term, "unpredictability" of him - You never know quite certainly what will piss him off and make him shout in unfiltered, pent-up rage, or make him suddenly turn quiet, stunted, and afterwards break down and sob. She is like a dice :]

The facade is EASILY to be cracked after all.

However, the amount of details and earrings are for me at least kind of overwhelming and everywhere, as if so many things are demanding for my attention - And that's because Sun is a mess, a person whose pieces of himself are scattered from one spot to one another more far away.

I COULD TALK ABOUT HER FOR HOURS YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I GOTTA SHUT UP MY MOUTH 😭🙏

ANYWAY SUN'S DIFFICULTY TO DRAW WAS... 4/10 because he's an unstable cutie patootie :D But it was a bit difficult to talk about him because IT OMNIOUSLY IS SIMILAR TO ME HM I WONDER WHY- 😀

BUT NOW, THE EMO BLUEBERRY IS NEXT! >:D

MOON'S SECTION

I have NO IDEA how to begin with Moon, he is just really um Moon-y 😭

BUT what I can say about him is that in my story, he behaves more and is like the first version of Moon before he had sacrafised himself for KC - And we all know that he didn't treat Sun THAT well. Of course, he loved his brother dearly and cared about him, however, this love didn't really come across in his ways of trying to keep Sun safe and unburdened. He LITERALLY was so much "good intentions, bad methods."

He overprotected Sun so much by trying to unburden him by doing everything himself and not letting him help in a way, and although it should benifit Sun, it only caused their already stain relationship to actually fall apart more and Moon to crash out, causing him to ultimately lash out at Sun. It was very tragic to witness ^^' While the intentions of this are transparent, it actually just feeded into Sun's perception of his role as the useless brother and gave him another reason to hate himself even more, but especially made his fear of messing up even stronger and bigger because there was NO opportunity to challanege this belief by having a moment of success, accomplishment and glory that he desperately needed to get pulled out of this spiral - Which ultimately resulted into trying to kill Eclipse to silence these thoughts and feelings. It kept him depended on Moon though, because after a while of Moon doing everything himself, it was so normalized that he expected Moon to always figure everything out himself. It was a clashing piece of parts that shouldn't co-exist with each other. But he continued drowned in those feelings uselessness, in his inferiority complex and fear.

WAIT I WAS COMPLETELY DRIFTING OFF TOPIC I STARTED TO TALK ABOUT SUN- 😭 ("editing" Squishy: That's why I marked it yellow so you can skip it, and the following ones, too ;D)

Okay, to get the point across swiftly, Moon was abusive towards Sun. He exhibited absolutely abusive behavior and was sometimes EXTREMELY immature, and his ways of abusing Sun reflected that, too - Guilt-tripping, blame-shifting and much more. (But Sun is VERY MUCH so himself, too, we can't forget that.)

My interpretation is that Moondrop, while he and Sun still shared a body, had an emotional development that was constantly disrupted. He never really had the "privilege" to, for example, learn how to interact with the world around him and to learn how to regulate and control his emotions because of social isolation and the takeovers of Sun. Of course, that affected Sundrop too, but Sundrop had way more interactions with the outside world and had opportunitites to learn about social interactions (and Karens maybe taught him how to somehow restrain his emotions) unlike Moon.

Moondrop also was VERY depended on Sun, just like Sun was depended on Moon - He literally couldn't LIVE without him, even less than Sun could, because Sun was his only source of emotional stability, his sort of crutch that always helped him through things!

WITH THAT OUTTA THE WAY, TOO, Moon is also a VERY short-tempered person, just like Sun in a way. Although he is very smart, he also is VERY impulsive - He isn't very cold, cunning and calculating, but he CAN be. Just like Eclipse, the one he doesn't want to get compared to because he is the walking embodiment of EVERYTHING he doesn't want to be but sadly, still kind of is. Anyway, as we saw ourselves, he often threatened to beat Sun or punch him at least during gaming episodes, and although it was often seen as a joke by both of them that is not taken to be seriously (or so it looked like, though Sun very much got nervous), I think that it planted at least some seeds of fear in Sun's mind, judging how much HE TRIES to avoid to anger Moon and immediately gets quiet and fidgety when Moon is sadly angered. And the infamous whacking stick, we can't forget that :'D

And just like Sun, Moon also has an IMMENSE self-hatred and low self-esteem - His past haunted him and tormented him, his desire to protect Sun overrode sometimes the smart, science part of him, and there were many things he wanted to correct but never could and ultimately failed to do so.

OKAY WAIT WHY IS HE KINDA INTERESTING TO TALK ABOUT TOO- 😨

BUT ANYWAY HIS DESIGN! :D

THERE HE IS :3

I like his design a lot tbh! :D AND I JUST DISCOVERED THAT MOONFLOWERS EXIST AND LIKE OF COURSE I GOTTA SLAP IT ONTO HIS PANTS CUZ IT MATCHES SUN'S SUNFLOWERS >:D

Difficulty to draw was 6/10 cuz like meh :/ He introduced me to TSAMS though AND I REMEMBER RELATING TO HIM SO MUCH CUZ IT WAS THIS EPISODE I THINK "Sun learns MOON'S DARK SECRET" and where he basically DID NOT SPAT FACTS BUT TRAUMA 😭 So I will give him a sticker for trying :3

And now, the twins side-by-side:

They have similarities cuz they are twins, duh ✨💅

They have the same flower theme on the pants, they have those weird left eyebrows AND THE MOST IMPORTANT THING: They have those necklace thingies! :D And they work like this: Sun's has the actual Sun side in black to focus on the Moon, because Moon is his counterpart and he can't live without him, and Moon's has the actual Moon side in black to focus on the Sun because of the same reason! :D

AND THIS TOOK 1 HOUR AGAIN TO WRITE YAY 😍 Sooo thank you for hearing me yap, hope you enjoyed! :D (Though you can tell me of course if it doesn't interest you and you just want to see the character designs, I have the feeling that not many are interested in the stuff that I say! ^^' AND THAT'S OKAY BTW YOU SLAY REGARDLESS >:D)

NOW I GO SLEEP cuz it's 10 pm where I live and I have school tomorrow and I am sleep-deprived cuz NIGHTMARES :'D Nightmares should go and eat out of the garbage can I tell u 😃

TUNG! :D

[lovexjoe]

can you write a vacation sex for jacob please❤️

Vacation Love 

Jacob and Y/N was captivated by the scenery of Cancun from their ocean view dinner. He missed her so much while filming it was the longest they been away from each other since they started dating back in 2018. Y/N was getting more gigs from clothing and makeup companies so she’s been filming her own content almost everyday. After he wrapped up filming, he laid in his hotel room, flipping through his photos of them. Two months without each other was brutal. He missed her touch, her scent and mostly her love. He booked a surprise trip without even asking her, hoping she doesn’t have any work related projects for the next week. 

He sends her a text, knowing it’s 1am in London right now. 

“You and Me? Cancun Mexico! 👩‍❤️‍👨Your plane is booked, better start packing ✈️ is at 10am. Can’t wait to see you, my love 😍 ” 

That risky text was the best one he has sent yet. All her projects weren’t due for the next 2 weeks so he had all of her attention. She hopped on the flight now here they were. After a long day of ATVing, ziplining and swimming in cenotes. They were 4 tequila shots in and couldn’t keep their hands off each other. The waitor cleared out their plates and they continue to enjoy their drinks. 

“I’ve missed you so much, I feel like I’ve said it a million times since you landed. But it’s true.” He intertwines your fingers, just the slightest touch was giving you fanny flutters. You missed him THAT bad. You started to rub your leg against his and he clears his throat. 

“Babe, don’t you still want dessert?” He tries to maintain a straight face, but he biting back a big smile. 

“I do, but I rather have you instead…” You give him the most seductive look he couldn’t think of anything else except 

“Waitor! Check please.” 

He scans the hotel card and he waste no time pulling you into the room. He lips meeting yours, the both of you hungry for each other. Two months was too long. 60 days without each other’s touch, you could say you two were desperate and that’s totally fine. That’s what comes with being in love. His beard tickles your neck as he bites and sucks on your sweet spot. 

He sits on the bed, pulling you into his lap and facing you towards the floor length mirror. Pulling your dress up, revealing you had no panties on the entire time and he smirks. 

“Fuck you look so good baby. I missed this pussy.” He gives your pussy a slap causing you to gasp. His palm hitting your clit was a different sensation. The liquor consumed at dinner was taking over and the yearning for each other was too. He spreads your legs out wider using his legs as you lay your head against his chest. His slowly starts to play with your clit, then slipping two fingers inside earning a moan. 

“Watch yourself baby. You are a sight to see” He already has you dazed, you open your eyes and oh my was he right. It was a sight to see. He continues to work his fingers inside you, bringing you to your first orgasm. Nothing compares to his touch, not your fingers or toys. You removed your dress fully before straddling him. 

“I think it’s time you watch closely, cause you’re a sight to see my love” This is the first time you’ve left Jacob speechless. You slipped his pants and boxers off: ripping his button up open. Both of you laughing as you hear the buttons hit the floor. You positioned yourself and slipped him in, earning a moan from him. 

“Fuckkk Y/N” you looked behind at the mirror as he spreads your cheeks taking in the glory of your tightness around him. 

“Baaabyyy you’re stretching me out” You hold onto him and you start to bounce faster. 

“I missed you baby... uhhh fuck just like that!” he gives your ass a slap as he watches you through the mirror. He doesn’t think he can hold on for long. He holds you close as he fills you up with his release. Both of you sweaty and panting against each others skin. 

“Round 2?” Y/N says causing Jacob to laugh. 

Taglist: @yeahnohoneybye @cardi-bre91 @onlysarang @romanreignsluver1 @minwn

@armandosbabymama @dyttomori @bbyplutosblog @vergilnelosparda @believeinthefireflies95 @cardi-bre91 @hopetookourvibe

[wowstrawberrycow]

Expanding!

I am really wanting to write drabbles for Elrond and Thranduil. But, before I dive in I've been trying to develop my own head canons for my au. This doesn't mean I will stop writing for Gimli and Legolas though. I adore them far too much! 😍

Here's my head canons! I personally think Elrond and Thranduil would balance each other very well.

Thranduil

Definitely a bi-guy and is 100% a disaster.

Is both Barbie and Ken at the same time, or separately depending on his mood. I say this because I canon him to have a perfect blend of fem and masculine styles that are glamorous. No pun intended (we all know he uses glamor). The way he carries himself is very much like a popular girl at the mall (Barbie) but is athletically masculine (Ken).

100% brat energy.

Can easily be a party 'girl' without that effecting his masculinity in anyway.

I imagine he probably does wear makeup from time to time.

I could see him being a very sexually charged individual.

Has heavy trust issues that cause him to keep people at a distance. I'm wanting to say because he is secretly sensitive he does this to avoid getting hurt.

Overly emotional and overly dramatic. He is the drama king!

He gives me the air of someone who is wildly insecure, with very low self-esteem, and poor body image; who hides behind a hyper confident mask.

After losing his wife (the main form of stability in his life) he turned to alcoholism and hides behind a false party persona.

Is absolutely terrified of anything happening to his son. Is extremely overbearing to the point where he has projected his own fears onto legolas and has accidentally been pushing them (I canon legolas to be a they/them) away.

Tries to be supportive but falls flat because he is a helicopter parent.

He for sure did not let Legolas out of his sight until they were in their equivalent of teen elf years. This made his son grow even more rebellious causing a rift in both their lives.

I think it absolutely destroyed him inside to let Legolas go out into the world in the movies. But, he did so because he had to let go eventually. Hanging on tightly would make him lose his son forever

Will argue with Legolas about leaving the palace to go fight the spiders and other creatures in forest very much the way Ariel's dad does when Ariel goes to the surface in the little mermaid movie.

Definitely needs guidance from a Dom.

He is a single mom. Again this doesn't effect his pronouns.

Trauma survivor with PTSD 😢

Elrond

Also a bi-guy but is not a disaster.

For sure has a responsible dad vibe and will go out of his way for his kids.

In fact, he gives off the air that he's the communal dad. #Dadfriend

family man through and through.

I imagine that he is the type of dad to casually tell embarrassing stories about the 'kids' in his life or anyone he considers his kiddo as well as his own kids that are blood related.

Absolutely is the type who is a teacher as an occupation (child hearder). Teachers heard children right?

Is extremely organized with OCD tendencies.

He always struck me as a paramedic type too, especially if assisting in battle. I mean he is a very skilled healer canonically.

Can appear tired and done with life, but also has a secret streak of dad humor/lame humor.

Extremely patient.

Is very lonely. Life has not been kind to him canonically. And his children drifted away from him, lost his twin and other loved ones too 😢 So I think that is the reason why in my canon he tries to be dad for others. It helps that he's older than most too.

Could be chronically depressed 😢

Is definitely a caregiver type in a BDSM lifestyle relationship.

Wholesome babe

Can be quite the suave Gentleman in private

[spencerzakwrites]

dating octavio silva hcs

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pronouns: they/them [reader], he/him octane

summary: dating THE octavio silva🙏💯 (sfw + nsfw?)

request?: nope

——————

A/N: okay so like imma try and write some NSFW hcs too, so i’m sorry if they’re bad….

——————

sfw!:

• let’s be honest with ourselves, bro cannot sit still for the life of him. so the once in a blue moon moment where he is still, he is the clingiest mf around…

• like when i say clingy, i mean he is fully wrapped around you. like hands gripping your shirt and everything.

• love showing you off to the other legends, to the point they despise even hearing your name come from his mouth.

• calls you either the sweetest nicknames ever or the weirdest ones, no in between

• always touchy. like mostly not even sexually, bro just likes to hold your hand 🤷‍♂️

• randomly sings. like he’ll be doing something then bust out into song (very loudly too.)

• it’s the funnest too cause it’ll be like dead silent in your house and then all of a sudden he’s loudly singing like tyler the creator or something

• also shares his headphones with you, even if you pick the music and if he doesn’t like it, he’ll still listen 😍

• sometimes he doesn’t realize he’s speaking spanish. so you’ll ask him to do something and then he’ll just reply in all spanish (it makes him 100x hotter tho.)

• had the fattest emo phase in middle school and still projects it to this day (like eyeliner, piercings, EVERYTHING.)

• but like, it was hot so you aren’t complaining 😈

• fidgets with his little butterfly knife a lot, like to the point it looks like he’s ready to stab someone

• JEALOUSY.

• he gets jealous so easily, especially if ur talking with obi or elliot. and my lord does it turn u on.

• before each game, he dedicates it to you even if he doesn’t win. you’ll always be proud, even if he is first blood <3 (which is 90% of the time…)

• either texts you with as many abbreviations as possible or sends the longest paragraph ever.

• tried to hang upside from your porch while dressed as spiderman for halloween and almost fell right on his head, but he held off long enough to get a spiderman kiss 💔

• has like… a bajillion photos of you on his phone. whether they be the stupid 0.5 photos or like the most gorgeous photo of you (or ur nudes) he always has some on deck.

• has made a playlist for you but it will never see the light of day (he’s embarrassed 😞)

• has a pair of glasses due his stim effects on his eyesight but literally never wears them besides when he’s with you

• says the dumbest pickup lines to you but they somehow always work (he impresses himself 😼)

• always gets so energetic and excited when he asks you out on a date (you’ve been dating for months.)

• (m/gn!reader) everytime ur away and he can’t see you, he calls the universe homophobic for drawing you away from him

• he can’t spell for the absolute life for him yet you can understand every text he sends, ur like his translator

• he’s like, secretly the fattest nerd in the world and geeks out of you ever buy him anything that correlates to his interests

——————

nsfw!:

• would definitely wanna do something involving his butterfly knife. not like cutting you or something, instead like… teasing you… 😈

• sloppy head. and i don’t mean like sloppy toppy, BITCH I MEAN SLOPPY.

• like saliva all down his chin and on you, it’s very gross but god does it feel good.

• REFUSES TO BOTTOM. like he is certain he will never, it’s kinda sad. he isn’t masculine enough 😞

• 100% into quickies, especially before (or even during) games. but on some occasions when he’s REALLY. feeling it, he’ll take it slow and make it very sensual.

• LOVESSSSSSSS WHEN YOU RIDE HIM. LIKE YES GOD.

• his hands are glued to your hips, head tilted back with his goggles just barely handing onto his sweaty forehead with spanish curses slipping from his lips.

• andddddd it’s everywhere.

•his hands are everywhere on you and they never leave, like he’s so touchy it’s almost concerning

• absolutely loves when you return his energy, especially if he’s like hardcore degrading you and you return with the same attitude.

• he is busting on sight. not warning or anything, boom. it’s everywhere

• definitely cracks jokes in the middle of sex, just to hear ur giggle (that also makes him bust)

• anytime he wants to return a favor, he’s says he’ll give you head. which is very much true, its definitely a good trade

• BEST. AFTER. CARE. NO ONE CAN CHANGE MY MIND ABOUT THIS

• like he is doing EVERYTHING. he can for you. you need food? he’s running to the kitchen or opening his phone to doordash. you need a drink? absolutely sprinting to the kitchen for water. a bath/shower? the waters already running with everything set out for you.

• definitely suggests showers together, promises it won’t lead to anything but we all know he’s a liar…

——————

that’s all i lowkey have rn 😞

maybe a pt2 with like specific scenarios or even a mirage version 😍