#anyhow that doesn’t matter :3

[insecuremice]

made silly lil puppets of Tad and Bill:3

hope you like the tad puppet @void-dude :D

[luveline]

Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3

ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k

“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 

“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 

“I understand, but–”

“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 

You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?

“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 

The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 

“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 

You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 

“Did you call them?” 

Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 

Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 

“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 

You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 

Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 

“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 

You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 

“We really don’t have time to waste.” 

“I know, but my blood sugar–”

She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”

“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”

“Clearly not!” 

“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 

The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 

You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 

If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 

Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 

“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 

He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 

He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 

“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.

“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 

He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 

In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 

You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 

“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 

“No,” you say apologetically. 

“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 

Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”

“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”

“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.

“How did you get so low?” he asks.

“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 

“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 

“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 

“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 

“Don’t know,” you mumble. 

Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 

He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 

You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 

By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 

You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 

“I understand.” 

You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.

He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 

“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 

He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 

“What do I get in return?” 

He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 

[shayasay]

How they kiss you P2

Tbhk males! Ft. Tsukasa, Teru and Akane!

Note: all characters are aged up (which means 18+!) don’t worry and I’m not gonna tell minors to not read because let’s be honest, it doesn’t stop them. So enjoy!

Tsukasa

- Will kiss with tongue

- Will in fact kiss you even if people are around

- He would definitely make out with you no matter where you guys are or who is there

- He loves cupping your cheeks while kissing you

- Loves to pull you onto his lap while kissing

- Will sometimes kiss you during class so you have to hide your face behind a book or something

———————

He’s a ghost so people can’t see him and he decided to take advantage of this, one day she you were in class minding your own business he just randomly pops up and full blown makes out with you. Pushing his tongue in your mouth, eyes fully open and staring at the droll falling from the side of your mouth before looking back at you and then pulls away from you leaving you breathless. (Nobody was there dw!)

- You knocked him upside the head.

————————

- Loves to kiss you after he does something creepy, like he could be staring at you creepily from so far away n then pop up behind you n kisses you

- “TSUKASA WHAT THE FU-“

- “Hm?” *kiss* “what were you saying?”

- “N-Nothing n-nevermind.”

- “Okayyy! Awww someone’s blushing!”

Teru

- Kisses you with and without tongue, tongue if he wants to have you breathless and without if it’s a simple quick smooch!

- His brother has caught him and you so many times that atp it’s just normal

- “Why in the kitchen Teru???”

- “Um..I uhhh…”

- Will in fact give you a kiss when he’s gonna do some fighting

- loves kissing your cheek

- Adores cupping your face while kissing

- Doesn’t put you on his lap but will sit beside you and cup your face while kissing

- Like his brother, doesn’t care if either of you are sweaty he wants a kiss.

- Won’t pout if he doesn’t get a kiss but will be clingy

- Will kiss your forehead, head, hand and cheek

- Will actually kiss you so much if you almost die during battle

- “D…Don’t do that ever again, okay?..”

- he nearly lost his heart.

Akane

- Is really affectionate

- Will kiss you anywhere and anyhow

- Doesn’t mind if you sit on his lap

- cups your cheeks while kissing

- Will put his hand/hands on your hips while kissing

- Teru has definitely caught him making out with you more then once

- “Are you two…” “No.”

- And he just stares as Teru while Teru giggles his ass off

- Will sometimes kiss you behind the staircase at school

- Kisses you basically everyday more then once because he’s really affectionate

- he totally would drag you somewhere just to make out

- like the back of the stairs, rooftop, janitors closet etc etc

- is the type of person to pout when you say no to giving him a kiss

- “Y/n pleaseeee! 🙏” “No Akane.” “PLEASEEEEEEE” *sigh* “fine.”

- all in all he’s head over heels for you and loves your kisses

As mentioned above all characters are 18+ so don’t attack me ty and don’t be afraid to request a character/characters from a fandom I’ll write it!

Mwah! <3

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Halloween, Shana! 🎃🌻How about a continuation of Hokage's Daughter OR Ed & Ling Are Betrothed?? Ty ty!!

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

Kakashi doesn’t know what to make of Naruto.

When Kushina and had first announced her pregnancy, he’d been prepared to be shoehorned into the role of big brother, no matter how unqualified he felt for it. Sensei was the only family he had left, so of course his kids would be family too.

Then he’d been betrothed to her and Kakashi did everything he could to stay as far away from her as possible. Because if he was going to marry her, he sure as shit wasn’t interested in being her big brother. Any marriage between them was going to complicated and awkward and terrible already, there’s no reason to make it worse by adding the complication of a pseudo-sibling relationship.

By the time their engagement had been broken and he’d been replaced by Sasuke, avoiding her had just become a habit. He didn’t know her, really, and it was on purpose. He figured he could get to know her later, when she was older, and they could both pretend it was a relationship they had any choice in.

But now he doesn’t know her at all, except that he knows she’s hiding something – lots of somethings, by the way she’s sneaking around and the people she’s talking to. He wonders if Minato knows about any of it and comes to the conclusion he doesn’t, which seems like it should be impossible, but.

He’s not the only one that’s been avoiding Naruto.

Minato can’t look at her without seeing his failure as a father, husband, even hokage. Kushina fusses over her like a doll on the mantle, always so worried over her heath and her chakra and what the demon is doing to her, but Kakashi wonders if Kushina knows anything more about Naruto than he does.

It’s occurring to him for the first time that in a lot of ways, Naruto grew up lonely.

It’s not what any of them wanted for her.

He drops down next to Tsume, not bothering to try and sneak because it probably wouldn’t work. “Hey.”

She doesn’t look up from her scroll. “Nice stunt you pulled there. I’m surprised Minato hasn’t skinned you alive.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. Luckily Minato just thinks he didn’t prevent it from happening, rather than actively setting it up, so he’d gotten out of it with just some bruises. “Do you know what’s going on?”

That gets him her attention. Considering how derisive it is, he sort of wishes he didn’t have it. “You don’t? And you still arranged it?”

“She asked,” he says, wincing beneath the mask when it comes out more defensively than he’d intended. “Last time she asked me for something she’d uncovered an almost coup and found Madara.”

Tsume’s a clan head. She’s one of the few people that know the truth of exactly what happened back then.

“Makes you wonder what could possibly get her this worked up, doesn’t it?” Tsume asks mildly.

His heart sinks. “So you don’t know.”

She shrugs. “Naruto doesn’t tell me things. Sasuke or Itachi might know, but good luck getting any Uchiha to flip on her. You could probably torture something useful out of Sakura.”

“I’m not really at the point of torturing civilian born genin,” he says testily.

Yet, anyhow.

“Guess we’ll just have to trust her,” Tsume says, going back to her scroll.

Great.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, controlling behavoiour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: still sick but still craving dick.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You drain the glass of water and cling to it. You’re at a loss of what to do next. You’re not just trapped by this man, you’re bound up in fear. It’s a real life horror movie. 

You stand and blink long and hard, trying to steady yourself. You turn, your legs stiff and straight, your movement slow as if walking through sludge. You stop and sway as you find Sy watching you from the doorway. 

No wonder you never noticed him before. He’s so quiet, you didn’t even know he was still in the room. Well, he is a soldier after all. That fact chills you more than anything. Even if you were more formidable, you still wouldn’t have a hope. 

He wears only a pair of thin gym shorts, low on his hips and displaying his thick stomach. He’s not really fat, just burly. He’s got hair fron chest to waistline, his stomach boxy with muscle but not perfectly defined. His arms are hug and bulge without flexing. 

You gulp and look down at the empty glass and walk forward. 

“I can get that, sweetie,” he offers as you come close. 

“No, it’s okay,” you murmur, “I gotta... finish up a few things anyhow.” 

He doesn’t move. His large body blocks the exit and you poke your tongue out to wet your dry lips. His eyes narrow on your mouth and he releases a heavy exhale. 

“Excuse me,” you voice quavers, “I’m just tryna... get past.” 

“Sweetie, you sound tired, maybe you should lay down,” he reaches for you and you flinch. You see him hesitate before he closes the gap, rubbing your arm with his large hand. “Hm, I could rub your feet, we could talk. We got a lot of catching up to do.” 

“I... M-maybe later, this project is a big one,” you lie. It’s really nothing. A sixty-dollar edit you could do in your sleep. “It’s a bit early, anyway, right?” 

His hand lingers as he looks down at you. His thick fingertips flutter up your shoulder and along your neck. He turns his knuckles to graze your throat before he frames your chin. 

“You’re much prettier in person, you know that?” He purrs, “especially when you smile.” 

Your lip quivers as goosebumps raise on the back of your arms, “thanks, Sy. Um, sorry, can I get through?” 

He rubs your jaw with his thumb and tilts his head. Finally he drops his hand and sighs, smacking the side of his leg as he backs up, angling to offer just enough room for your escape. As you step out, you can’t help but brush against him. 

“Mmm,” he hums, “you smell like flowers.” 

You grip the glass even tighter, “thanks.” 

“Everything about you is just so...” he trails after you, right at your heels, “perfect.” 

You don’t know what to say to that. It’s a sweet compliment but it really doesn’t feel like it. He follows you to the kitchen, once more planting himself in the doorway, his hand on the frame as he watches you. You cough and rinse the glass, leaving it beside the sink. 

You face him again and wring your hands. As you near, he moves without being told. You skirt around him and sit at the table. You try not to shake as you open the laptop. You pause but resist the urge to look around. Where’s your phone? 

You do your best to bottle up every thought. You don't want him to sense your panic. You need to stay calm until a chance comes up. You don’t know what or when, but it has to. 

You click onto Adobe Suite and reload the same project as before. He just stands there, by the wall. You're too nervous to check if he’s looking at you.  

You hear a peculiar tapping and Aika slithers past her owner. As she approaches, you swallow and brace yourself. She sits beside you and puts her head in your lap. You gape down, in relief and surprise, and daintily touch her head. 

“She likes you a lot,” he beams and walks around the other side of the table. He drags a chair out and sits, “I told her all about you. She was over there too. Sniffin’ out IEDs.” 

“Oh,” you glance at him over the laptop. “Wow.” 

A pang stabs your chest. For a moment, you feel bad for him. You can’t begin to imagine what he saw in a war. You presume being far from home is never easy but that’s all so much more intense. 

“Yeah, tough, but we made it through,” he proclaims, “easier to get on when you got something to come home to.” 

You nod and look at the screen. This is all sorts of messed up. How stupid are you? Why couldn’t you just keep a journal? Why did you have to stream your stupid life to the stupid internet? You just assumed that no one would care. Like usual. 

You drag your fingers around the touch pad, trying to focus on the actual work. That's the only real escape you have. You need to think about anything else. 

“I thought... I thought you made your money from your videos,” he says as pushes his shoulders back, his figure broader than the chair. 

“Mm, no. Um, you know, not many viewers. I edit for other people. Pictures, videos,” you answer. It’s easier to talk when you keep it clinical. “Weddings, stuff like that.” 

“Ah,” he sniffs, “well, not about how many followers you got, just that they’re good people, huh?” 

“Sure, uh, yeah,” you sputter. 

“You okay, sweetie?” His tone sharpens. 

“Sorry, I'm just... working,” your lip twitches. “You know, I just... wasn’t expecting... you. I usually work um, between videos, and I didn’t plan on doing anymore today.” 

“Huh,” he pokes his tongue into his cheek, “but you usually do one. One early, one late.” 

You shift and Aika nuzzles your thighs, huffing until your pet her again. You bite the inside of your lip as your face singes, “right, but I’m a little behind...” 

He’s quiet. You feel him staring. He probably can see right through your lies. 

“You’re a hard worker, sweetie, I woulda guessed so,” he stands and the chair scrapes loudly, making you wince, “let me get outta your way. I can wait a bit longer.” 

You don’t look up as his shadows blurs along the edge of your vision. You wait until it fades away before you dare to peek. The TV comes back to life and you exhale. It’s not exactly freedom, just room to breathe. 

🧸

You are anything but behind. You’re so desperate to dissociate, that you breeze through your current projects. In the background, Sy lurks, the couch creaking as he sits up, his footfalls against the floor as he paces, and the little clicks and clacks of his curiosity as he looks around your place. 

As your eyes begin to glaze over from the glare, he appears on the other side of the table, “hungry, sweetie?” 

You’re not. You shrug, not wanting to give the wrong answer. 

“I could order something. I know you just shopped and all but I don’t mind.” 

“You know, that’s nice but I’m still full from breakfast.” 

“Ah, yeah, that was a big one,” he agrees, “you know, those field rations made me a bit of a glutton once I got back to civilization.” 

“Oh. You’re welcome to cook for yourself or something,” you offer. 

“You gonna stay on that all night,” he points at the computer, “that sh—the light can’t be good for your eyes.” 

“No, um, I... just finished.” 

You close the laptop reluctantly. You hear the edge creeping into his timbre. He’s getting impatient. 

“Well, if you’re not hungry, how about I run you a bath? You’re tense, you should relax, sweetie,” his hands go to his hips and tugs up his shorts just a little. 

“Sure...” you murmur. 

He goes before you can say anything else. What else can you say? He’s crazy and it’s becoming more obvious by the minute. Maybe you are too for not screaming at him to leave you alone. 

Aika exhales and falls onto her side, stretching her long legs as she relaxes. Right, he’s not the only one you have to worry about. You get up and clasp your hands together. You walk around the table, once, twice, three times. 

You hear the faucet and shudder. You stop and look at Aika then the door. You could sneak out right then. Tell your neighbour there’s an intruder in your home. With all his things and his dog. And they would see him walking in with you on the cameras like everything was all good. 

Right. It’s an option but not better than the current one. You’re more likely to piss him off than get rid of him. 

“Got it running for ya,” he comes out and you push your hands down, fighting own your fear. 

“Thanks,” you say as you cross the room, “that’s so sweet.” 

“Yeah, sweetie, no problem,” he nears and you keep from shying away, “I’m just tryna take care of you.” 

“I... really appreciate it,” you eke out. 

“You just take your time,” he runs his hands up and down your arms. “Mm,” he bites his lip, “you’re just so pretty. I can’t believe you’re real.” 

Your chest wracks and your head swells. You can’t believe he’s real either. 

You force a smile and freeze as you sense him leaning in. He kisses the top of your head and purrs, “you just go get nice and fresh.” 

He releases you and reluctantly lets you go. You sidle past him cautiously. You don’t look back as you head for the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and let the air free from your lungs. Holy crud. 

You go to the tub and stare in at the rising water. You wait for it to fill up before you shake the daze. You undress and slide into the water. You lean back and grip the edges. The world is surreal. 

You’re too restless to enjoy the warmth. Usually you would find a bath soothing. You often take them with a candle burning and your favourite soap bubbled over the surface. You don’t think you’ll ever know peace again. 

You sit up and hug your knees. You sit like that for a while. You want to fall apart right there but you know you can’t. The thing that helped you so much has doomed you. 

You pull the stopper and get out. The water’s just making you cold. You dry off and wrap the towel around you. You pick up your clothes and go to the door, pressing your ear to listen to the other side. 

You turn the handle slowly and ease it inch by inch. He’s not there. You tiptoe out, vigilant as you cross the room. You turn into the bedroom and nearly let out a yelp. You didn’t really think he’d left but you could hope. 

“These are real cute,” he lays down the button up silk pajama shirt with the matching shorts. 

“Oh, uh, sure, um...” 

“Should be nice and comfy,” he faces you with a grin. 

“Well, uh, yeah, but...” you begin to argue. You don’t really sleep in those ones, you more lounge around. “Thanks.” 

You keep your arms across your chest, the tower firmly clutched around you. You look down at the set as he remains close. You wait. Is he gonna go? 

“Aren’t ya gonna put them on?” 

“Sure, uh,” you grab them, your other hand fisted around the top of the towel, “I’ll just go do that.” 

“You don’t gotta be shy with me,” he purrs, “but I guess you’re a nice girl, huh. You like to take it slow.” 

You press your lips together, “mhm.” 

You back away, wanting to run in the other direction. You turn at the door and leave him there. You can’t help but feel he’s already seen too much. 

You flit back to the bathroom and lock yourself in. You are about to combust. You tremble as you pull on the shorts, then the shirt. You hang the towel and linger by the door. 

He's really not going to leave. For whatever reason, you hoped he might call it a night and go. Why would he do that? He doesn’t do sane things. 

“Sweetie,” the knock on the door makes you jump. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah, fine,” you squeak. 

The door handle wiggles. You flick the lock back and he pushes it open from the other side. He lets go of the handle and steps back, his eyes roving up and down your body. 

“Ah, sugar, you look... look real... good,” his voice is smoky as he spreads his hand over his chest. “Sweet little thing, just wanna eat you—up!” 

He surprises you as suddenly he has you off your feet. He has his arms around you as he lifts you and carries you away from the bathroom door. You yelp and hit his shoulder, wriggling and kicking. Oh no! 

“Sy, please, no,” you cry out but he ignores you, “no, no, no...” you panic finally overflow and your eyes glisten. He takes you into the bedroom and your heart pounds feverishly, “please...” you wisp before he tosses you on the bed, “don’t hurt me!” 

You bounce on the mattress and hold your hand up, bracing for his next move. When it doesn’t come, you part your fingers and look at him through them. He watches you with a line in his forehead. 

“You think I’m gonna hurt you?” He rasps. 

“I... you just caught me off guard,” you push yourself up on your elbows, “I didn’t--” 

“I was just playing,” he frowns, “having some fun with my girl. Wanted some snuggles, is all.” 

Despite it all, you actually feel bad. He sounds genuinely hurt. You sit up all the way and pout up at him, “Sy,” you utter softly, “I’m tired, I’m sorry.” 

He inhales so his broad chest rises and blows it out as he rubs his shaves head. He drops his hand and sniffs, “yeah, me too. Been a long day.” 

“So... so...” you quaver as you grasp at the last of your courage, “let’s just sleep it off.” 

His jaw ticks and he tilts his head until you hear a pop, “yeah, you’re right, sweetie. Think I just got overexcited.” 

You flutter your lashes as you hold back the wave of relief. It dissipates as soon as it rises. This isn’t over. You have a whole night ahead of you and brand new day. 

[yae-energy]

╰┈─✩ ˚ ‧ All the ways I love you ‧ ˚

✧˖° synopsis : The Jjk first years and their love languages !

✧˖° cast and crew : Megumi Fushiguro, Yuji Itadori & Nobara Kugisaki x Black Reader < 3

.ᐟ content warnings : General tomfoolery and mushy mush cause FUCK THE MANGA.

⤑ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ authors note : It’s been actual decades since I’ve posted any form of writing….I feel so unseasoned LMAO. This is just a quick lil hc post, nun crazyyy 😽

—

Megumi “I’ll do it” Fushiguro : Acts of Service king.

Now one thing about Megumi??? He’s gonna hit you with the “I got it” EVERY. SINGLE. TIME without fail. Doesn’t matter what time of day, doesn’t matter what he’s doing, he’s gonna make sure you don’t lift a finger for anythinggg.

Is he gonna complain whilst doing it? Of course.

But that’s just true Megumi fashion. It doesn’t mean he ACTUALLY hates doing things for you. Whether that be grabbing you snacks or completing mundane tasks for you such as carrying your bag or opening doors for you, HES GONNA DO IT EVERY TIME. You don’t even have to ask.

Def brings a “if he wanted to he would” typa vibe to the relationship and obviously you appreciate it ten fold (despite the tough guy act he tries and subsequently fails to put on. He loves him some you.) And what better way can he show that than through actions?

They speak louder than words, right?

—

Yuji “I love you” Itadori : Words of Affirmation goat

Ok y’all listen here, this boy is a certified yapper through and mf through. ESPECIALLY when it comes to you.

He will never fail to let you— or anyone for that matter, know just how much he loves you and appreciates your presence. You’re like some sort of higher being to him, the best thing since sliced bread if you will.

All day everyday he’s spouting all sorts of “I love you” and “I’m so lucky to have you 🥲” and he’s gonna get emotional EVERY TIME. Like he won some sort of award (the prize being you of course.) And that doesn’t even include the impromptu monologues about how you’ve changed him for the better, and how glad he is to even have someone as amazing as you.

He loves you REAL BAD, why wouldn’t he tell you?

He’d scream it from the rooftops if he could.

—

Nobara “Look what I got you” Kugisaki : Gift giving queen

Now, I personally consider Nobara to be a mixture of quality time and gift giving, but I’m leaning more with the latter because damn is she a great gifter.

Not only does she love spending money (me too girl, me too.) But, she LOVESSSSS you. Two birds with one stone she’d say, because she loves having an excuse to drop a couple dollars and make you happy in the process.

If she sees you eyeing something while window shopping? It’s yours automatically— whether you actually intended to buy it or not. She’s not good with the whole “lovey dovey” schtick, that’s just not her style. But to make up for it, she makes sure that you have whatever you want when you want it, even if you express she doesn’t HAVE to.

SHE WANTS TO, and you can’t tell her otherwise.

⤑ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ tags : - @morosis-haze @jogeto @mypimpademia @ivanari @planetlunaa @cosmiles @milesmolasses @chinieh @romiantic @stqrriichiigo

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⤑ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ closing notes : hey guys…ahahaha…

LOOK IK I SAID I WAS GONNA POST A MONTH AGO BUT LIFE WAS LIFING LMAOOO

I also got a new job now so I won’t have AS much time to post and be silly on here (not that I was super active before but yk.)

Anyhow, thanks for reading and putting up with my lying ass 😕🫶🏽

Love y’all BOOTS DOWN

Mwah ����

- Xoxo, Yves

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty four : lunar interlude : riduur

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 7.8k (at last, a normal chapter length)

summary : din is so in love it's obscene at this point, keep it in your chest man (it being his heart.)

warnings, etc. : language, fluff, smut, this chapter is a sappy nightmare,,, like i've got one last chance to be sappy before i need to do my action packed finale so this is just me being sappy, din djarins so in love it makes me sick, fingering, p in v, clit stim, reverse cowgirl, creampie, cockwarming, massages, just general happiness like why are these idiots so happy what is their problem

a/n : WOOF this took a fucking WHILE to get out, and for those who waited, prepare to be UNDERWHELMED lmao. this is the last chapter before the final arc of the story and i was feeling rather sentimental while I wrote it. anyhow,,, i have a million excuses for why this took so long but like who cares cause it's here now yippee!!! as for every chapter i've ever posted i have no idea if i like this or not so there's that, i kind of hate this one the way i hate every lunar interlude, like i've never written a din pov and felt good about it lmao so i guess we'll see. comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

He doesn’t deserve this.

How could he possibly be deserving of you? Yet somehow you make him feel as if he is. With your soft touch and the way your eyes get just a little bigger when you see him. 

He’s going to ask you to marry him.

Is that something he can do? 

Technically of course you don’t really consider yourself married as far as he can tell. Sure you have a husband but that’s all he is, a husband. 

An obstacle. 

The two of you could still be married. 

And you wanted to leave this place. So he was going to give you exactly that. 

A home, far away from here. 

He pulls you into the cabin, wanting nothing more than for you to see the smile on his face. Of course you won’t let him do that much to his confusion. 

Maybe if you’re married to him you’ll look. 

The longer you wait the more nervous he gets about it. 

A lot can go wrong with this kind of thing. 

Very specifically, you could just not find him attractive in the slightest, which wouldn’t be great all things considered. If that happened maybe he could just live with the helmet on and you’d be okay with that. 

“Do you want to sleep here tonight or go back to the castle?” You look exhausted as he asks, he practically carries you towards the bed. 

“Here’s fine.” You look too tired to walk back anyway. 

He drags the mattress off of the busted frame, setting it on the floor. You seem surprised that he didn’t have a bigger reaction to your love confession. 

He did the first time you’d said it a few days ago. 

After the first day stuck in your room, you had said it that night. All you had wanted to do that day was fight and he hadn’t been able to give you even that. He knew you were right. It was stupid to stay. 

Even if things are okay now. 

You had said his name so clearly with such urgency that he believed you might be about to start another argument in the middle of the night.

“Din?” You had grabbed the front of his shirt and it wasn’t until he’d tried to talk to you that he’d realized you were still asleep. 

“Are you okay, sarad?” He sat up and cradled your head in his hands but you’d only held on tighter as you mumbled in your sleep.

“I love you.” And just like that you were collapsing back in his arms, still asleep as if nothing had happened. 

He hadn’t cried like he did that night since the kid left. 

And it didn’t matter when you didn’t say it back in the morning. (Despite the fact that he had said it quite a bit.) You loved him and he knew it. And he had made sure to show you just how much he loved you on that second day. 

He grins as you sit down on the bed with a yawn. He takes it upon himself to kneel beside you, unlacing the back of your gown. You have no resistance as he helps peel the rain soaked fabric from your skin. 

“Let me get you a change of clothes.” He leaves you to get out of the rest as he finds you a simple set of sleep wear. You let him redress you until he finally lays you down and stands, going to change out of his own wet clothes. 

When he steps out of the fresher you’ve turned the lights off he's in a clean flight suit with his helmet on as he slides under the blankets with you. 

“Warm enough?” The cabin feels colder than the castle as he pulls you closer. 

“I’m perfectly comfortable here.” Your voice is heavy with sleep as he rests his chin on the top of your head, beskar bumping against your hair. 

“Get some sleep.” He mumbles, not bothering to close his own eyes. 

“You promised you’d eat the candy.” You whisper into the darkness, you sound  barely conscious. 

“I did not.” At least he’s pretty sure he didn’t, he’s realized at this point that if he says anything with enough confidence you usually believe it. 

“You alluded to it.” You’re right, he probably did. 

“Do you really want to see the damage I would do after eating that thing?” He’ll never do it. In all honesty he’s a little nervous he’ll accidentally hurt you.

“A little.” You flip over in his arms so you’re facing him now, when you look at him he finds himself falling victim to the pleading look in your eyes. Damn nightvision. 

“Go to sleep.” He has to close his eyes, if he stares at you too long he’ll give in despite his own worries. “I love you.” He murmurs. He needs you to know it. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” You laugh softly before going silent. 

It only takes a few more minutes before your breathing gets quiet and steady against him. 

When he’s certain you’re asleep he reaches over to turn the lamp back on. You’d think with how often he does this that you’d have seen his face on accident at some point but maybe he’s just really lucky. 

He likes to look at you without the helmet on.

It’s fine with it, but nothing compares to seeing you without the barrier. Sometimes, if he’s still wearing the helmet and he takes it off you smile in your sleep when the airlock hisses. But since you’re insistent on not looking he doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to really look at you. So he does it on nights like these. 

You get so sleepy after sex. 

So he gets to hold you, and watch how your eyes flutter open the tiniest bit when he can’t help himself and kisses your cheeks until he can bring himself to sleep. Or how you mumble back to him when he whispers things to you in Mando’a. 

Most importantly you look less worried when you sleep. You always look so worried but not when you’re like this. There is plenty to be worried about so he can’t hold it against you. 

He’s going to build you a house someday. And he’s going to give you a garden. 

So you can go outside and look at the flowers whenever you want. 

And you won’t ever have to worry again. 

With a soft hiss of air he removes his helmet, setting it somewhere in the sheets as he looks at you, unburdened. He likes the way your lips part just a little bit as the corners of your mouth lift. 

He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek before rolling over to rest his head on your chest so he can feel you breathe until he falls asleep, it helps him to match your breathing. Your hands hold him, even in your sleep you run your hands across his back and shoulders. One time you had a nightmare and you pulled his hair so hard you’d woke yourself up. But he’d never complain, it’s one of his favorite things about you. You love him even when you’re sleeping. Like right now, your nails lighty scratch at the nape of his neck. 

It helps him sleep.

☆

When he wakes up he’s got a blanket thrown over his head and you’re already up, sitting at the table.

“You fell asleep without your helmet on.” He hears you grumble. 

“Sorry.” He chuckles as he searches for it in the mess of sheets only to find you’d set it on the floor beside him. Once it’s properly in place he finds you reading. He stands behind you, looking over your shoulder. 

“How did you find that?” He tries to grab the translation book but you swat his hand away. 

“You said we had no secrets.” Your eyes are scanning the pages. “Ner means mine.” You grin up at him as you say it. 

“Yes, it does.” He stares right back down at you. 

You lean backwards, grabbing the front of his shirt. 

“Ner.” 

Would you think less of him if you knew how often his face turned red when you spoke to him like that? A few weeks ago that kind of worry would drive him mad, but now? He knows you wouldn’t mind, knowing you'd probably feel accomplished to get such a reaction from him. 

“Gar serim.” You’re right. He murmurs back before getting your things together, listening to the sound of the pages frantically flipping behind him as you look for the words.

When you find the page you give him a dopey smile 

He suddenly remembers something, going to the fresher and searching through last night's wet clothes he finds the vial, bringing it to you, you don’t need any instruction from him as you pop the cap off, drinking the contents before setting it aside. 

“What do you want to do today?” He holds up the scraps of your dress, trying to decide if it’s even worth putting back on. 

“I’m a little tired, maybe we could read today.” You turn just in time to watch him toss it back on the ground. 

“Sounds perfect.” This will give him some much needed time to think.

He has a plan for today. There are a few things that he needs to get done before he leaves.

Like tell you that he has to leave. 

Of course he doesn’t want to leave you, even if it’s only going to be for a few days, but he wants to do this the right way and to do that he needs to leave. 

Just a few days. And then he doesn’t have to leave you ever again. 

And he needs to get away from you long enough to make the failsafe he knows you don’t want. You’re always together at this point, (not that he would have it any other way.) so it won’t be easy to find time away to do it but he’ll figure it out. 

“We should get going.” He’s pretty sure he has everything he needs and you need to be back in your room before any staff might notice you’re gone. 

“But  I wanna keep doing this.” You give him your sad eyes as you gesture to the book and he’s already ready to give in. 

“You can bring that to the library.” He groans and that’s all the convincing needed to get you on your feet. He manages to get you back to your room just before the girls arrive. He stands where he’s expected to stand out in the hall. It’s the only time he really spends away from you. 

When the door opens he instinctively stands up a little straighter.

They put you in a white dress. 

A pretty white dress. 

Did you know what this would do to him? 

You can’t possibly know the effect this kind of thing has on him, if you did you wouldn’t put him through this. 

“Ready?” He says as he peers at the translation book still happily tucked under your arm.

“Of course.” He’s mesmerized by your gown, it’s simpler than the ones they normally do you up in, white fabric flowing off your shoulders down to the floor, as you walk it trails behind you a bit. It’s a familiar quiet as he walks you to those large wooden doors, opening them as you rush inside. 

“What do you want to read today?” You’re searching around the shelves, you’ve already set your own reading in the nook. 

“Surprise me.” He won’t be reading today anyway, he needs to plan. 

“Here.” You hand him a book on speeder maintenance, normally he’d be thrilled to spend the day reading the sort of thing but he really should just take today to think. 

He sits first. Leaving space between his legs for you to sit which you happily do. Once you’re settled he opens his book, pretending to read as he lets his mind focus on what's important. 

Starting with the part where he tells you he’s leaving.

Or that he’s decided rather recently that he needs to leave.   

He should just do it now, get it out of the way so it stops bothering him, especially because he’d like to leave as soon as possible, but you seem so relaxed right now and he’d hate to ruin that. 

So he’ll focus more on the trip itself than the telling you part. 

It should only take a few days. A quick trip to the forge and back. 

He’s pretty sure he’s found out where the convert currently is. He doesn't have as much free time as he used to so it took a little outside help, seeking out old colleagues until finally hearing word of an outer rim planet where they might be located. He’ll catch a transport ship there, take care of what needs to be taken care of, and be back to you before he knows it. 

Then you can plan your life together. 

He would love to just bring you to the forge with him, go from there and never look back. That would be ideal. To get you out of here as quickly as possible. But that’s not possible, if he’s gonna go this he’s gonna do it right, so he’ll plan everything down to the last detail to make sure that it’s as safe as possible. If he’s being realistic he knows you’ll have to do something drastic, probably along the lines of faking your death. 

Will he have to kill Kodo? 

He’d like to. 

He’s wanted to kill Kodo for some time now, he’s just a little worried you’d be mad, you were so mad when he hit him. 

He never wanted you to be that mad at him ever again. 

So maybe he won’t. 

That would be the easiest way to get you out though, to be fair. Kill Kodo and run, and deal with the consequences after. He’ll hide you away somewhere until things die down and then he’ll build you something permanent. A home for the both of you. 

He could also just whisk you away into the night one of these days. 

He honestly isn’t sure how long they’d look for you, the last thing he’d want is for you to have to live a life on the run, he wants for the both of you to be able to settle. If it was clear he had taken you it would be deemed a kidnapping, it would be a long search, how long would they look if they believed you just ran away? He doesn’t talk to other staff members enough to know how seriously the royal family would take such a thing. 

Faking your death would probably be the easiest thing. 

No one comes looking for you. 

He isn’t entirely sure how you’ll handle that suggestion but if you’re serious about starting a life together it isn’t going to be easy. 

“I’ll be right back.” He stands, and you immediately give him a confused look, he never gets up and leaves, but he’s just realized that you’ll need to be taken care of while he’s gone. Who will protect you when he’s away? He definitely doesn’t trust anyone here to watch over you, Elaine would be his first choice but she’s busy when she isn’t tending to you and in all honesty he isn’t sure what she would do if something were to happen to you. 

So he’ll have to go with someone who he knows is available to watch you and who he’s certain won’t harm you. 

You aren’t going to be happy with his choice. 

When he steps out into the hall he calls his name, a few moments later Leo appears, he already seems reluctant, Din never summons him but this is important, and he doesn’t have any other options. 

“I’m leaving, tomorrow, I have to take care of some things, Kodo said it would be fine for me to take time off when I took the job.” Tomorrow. Well that’s settled then he supposes. The twi’lek trembles under his gaze, clearly unsure as to where he’s going with this.  

“While I’m gone you will watch her.” Din adds on at the end, Leo looks clearly unhappy with this arrangement as he stumbles back a bit. 

“Me?” 

“I won’t repeat myself. You will watch her, you will make sure she doesn’t leave the castle when I am gone. If somebody tries to get near her, you stop them, if somebody tries to hurt her, you will stand between them, if she gets hurt you will feel whatever pain she feels tenfold upon my return. If she so much as gets a papercut while she’s reading in the library there will be repercussions.” He straightens his posture to make himself the tiniest bit more imposing over Leo. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, you’re understood.” Based on the fear in Leo’s eyes he’s certain he may have gone a little overboard but he’d rather be safe than sorry. 

“Good.”

That’s taken care of. 

Once Leo is gone, disappearing down the hall, he opens the door, slipping back into the library where you’re standing in the entryway.

At least he doesn’t have to figure out how to tell you. 

“You’re leaving.” You say it like it’s a fact. Which of course you now know it is. 

“Yes.” No sense in hiding it. 

“And you just weren’t going to tell me?” He definitely should have told you. 

“I was just about to tell you.” He hates when you look at him the way you are now. Like you can see right through the steel, like you know he’s lying, like you can see the guilty expression on his face. “I was going to tell you soon. I have to go take care of some things.” 

“Take me with you.” You say it more like a demand and less like a request. He probably should have seen that one coming, even if he wasn’t going to get something to surprise you with he probably wouldn’t be allowed to take you off planet. 

“I wish I could, sarad, but I have to go alone, I’ll only be gone a few days.” Kriff, he really should have told you sooner. 

“Where are you going?” You cross your arms in front of your chest. 

“I… can’t tell you.” Not a great excuse, he knows that. 

“If I’m being honest I don’t love the sound of that.” He can’t blame you, if your roles were reversed he wouldn’t just let you go. 

“I know but I need you to trust me, I’ll only be gone a few days.”

“And you absolutely have to go?” You sound less mad and more upset now. If he wasn’t leaving to do something for you, your expression alone would be enough to make him stay. 

“Yes. He says it like he’s confirming it for himself. 

“I’ll miss you.” All the anger has left your voice, now you just sound sad. 

“I’ll miss you.” More than anything. 

“When will you be back?” 

“I’m not sure exactly, I won’t be long.” Unless he can’t find the convert, but you don’t need to know that part. You nod and he’s a little surprised at your acceptance of all this. “I have to leave in the morning.” A deep frown settles on your face. 

“So soon?” He really should have told you sooner.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. If you have to then you have to.” You give him such a sad smile, he wishes he didn’t have to go but he wants to do this right. 

“Can you stay here, I’ll come get you in a few hours.” He cradles your face in his hands, wishing he could wash away any of your doubts, but now that you know he should probably go get ready. “I have to go pack a few things, I’ll be back before dark, okay?” 

“And then you’ll stay with me the rest of the night?” And every night after. 

“Of course.” 

“Okay then, hurry back.” 

This will also probably be the only chance he gets to make that fail safe.  

He lifts his helmet a bit to plant a kiss on your forehead before leaving you, watching as you instinctively close your eyes as he does. There isn’t a lot of time for him to do what he needs to do before you’ll be expecting him so he gets back to the cabin as quickly as possible.

He’s quick with everything, packing his bag with only the essentials and tossing the empty box down before finally sitting down at the table. 

Now to write the note. A letter with instructions on what to do if something ever happens to him. 

He doesn’t like the idea of you being left alone with your husband. The thought of it makes him sick. 

If another body guard were hired they wouldn’t protect you from him. 

Maybe he should ask Elaine to help you if that happens. 

She could get you out. 

If he wasn’t here he would want you to leave as quickly as possible, to go somewhere safe. He lists out all the places you could go, names and coordinates of people who can keep you safe at the mention of his name. He spends a solid hour staring at that piece of paper, writing out anything he’d want you to know before folding it up and setting it in the box. 

With that taken care of he kneels on the floor, feeling around until locating the familiar loose board under the kitchen table. 

He’d found it a week after moving in and it seemed like a perfectly good spot to hide things. He’s got a collection of things already set aside for you, he pulls each item from its hiding spot, putting them into the box before holding up a small chainmail shirt. He retrieves the stick shift knob from the shelf, wrapping it in the shirt and putting it in the box. 

In his note he’s left you with a task, to give those to the kid, and to tell him that he’s sorry. 

Lastly he fills a bag with credits, about a month's salary, you should be able to buy yourself a ship if you want, he isn’t sure if you’d know how to fly it but with the money provided you can pay someone to fly it for you. With that he sets the box under an extra flight suit in his bag before returning to the castle, on his way out the door he grabs the few bars of beskar he has. 

You’re right where he left you in the library, your brows furrowed as you stare at that damn book, he should have hidden it better. 

“Wanna go get some dinner?” You look up when he speaks, holding his hand out which you gladly take as he pulls you towards him. 

“We can do that. You’re all packed?” Thankfully you look less upset than you had earlier. 

“All packed.” He drops your hand as he opens the door, following you as you walk to the kitchens. He watches the way the back of your dress just barely drags along the stone floors as you ask for two dinners, handing his to him to carry with a smile as you continue to walk.

When you arrive back at your chambers you’re quick to lock the door, he watches as you rush to the closet, already sitting with your back to him when he steps inside, dim lamp light illuminates the room as he sits, his back brushing against yours as he listens to the sounds of your eating. 

What he wouldn’t give to eat face to face. 

He can’t remember the last time he shared a normal meal with someone. He ate in front of the kid but he always kept the helmet on, it would have been years and years ago, maybe with his parents. 

He finds the latch for his helmet, tossing it aside, he’s already decided he won’t be putting it back on tonight, he chews his food thoughtfully. What would life look like with you after this place? He certainly wouldn’t want to eat dinner like this every night. 

Maker, why won’t you just look? Everything would be easier if you’d just look. He would abandon his creed entirely if that’s what you wanted. Instead he loves the one person in the galaxy who doesn’t want to look. 

“You’re being quiet.” You finally break the silence as he sits up a little straighter.

“I’m always quiet.” He murmurs. 

“You think I don’t know that? You’re being extra quiet, what’s wrong.” 

“Nothing’s wrong.” He takes another bit as you lean back against him, resting your back on his as he hears you set your plate aside.

“You’ve been quiet all day.” Of course he has, he has to leave you tomorrow and you’ve been in a white dress all day. 

“I’m quiet every day.” He finishes his food quickly, reaching around blindly until he finds your plate, standing to set the both outside the room, when he turns around this time he faces you, kneeling on the floor behind you as he plays with the lace on the back of the dress, lining a series of buttons in a straight line down your spine. 

“You’re avoiding the point.” You snap at him but he just continues to trail his fingers across the intricate patterns of your dress.

“I’m just gonna miss you, that’s all.” 

“I’m gonna miss you too.” Your tone has softened.

“Want me to show you how much I’m gonna miss you?” He gives the back of your gown a teasing tug. 

“That might be nice.” You’re already reaching towards the lamp but he takes your hand, guiding it back into your lap. 

“Leave it.”

“Din…” You have a soft warning tone as he kisses your exposed shoulder. 

“Please, I want to see you.” He murmurs against your skin as he bunches up the fabric of your dress, pulling it up towards your hips. 

“But-” He’s quick to cut you off. 

“It’s fine, if you don’t look then you won’t see.” He swiftly unlatches his armor, setting it aside as he pulls you into his lap, his chest flush with your back. He turns to kiss your cheek, watching your eyes flutter shut as he does. 

He bunches up your skirt enough so he can see your thighs, pulling his gloves off so he can touch you, he likes the feeling of his skin on yours, how often does he get to have this? Only ever with you, not that he’d have it any other way. You’re just so soft, he likes the way you feel when he spreads your thighs a little wider, watching your mouth open a tiny bit as you inhale sharply. He’s already terribly hard, trying not to rut against your ass as he lets one hand dip between your legs, under your skirt, as the other one drifts up towards your chest, splayed out across your sternum to keep you in place.

He pushes your panties to the side, admiring the wetness he finds already there as he swipes his fingers along your seam. He tilts his head to the side, eager to watch your expression unburdened by his helmet as he pushes two fingers into you. 

Once he’s in your peripheral you close your eyes, leaving him to observe the way your mouth falls open as he gently slides his digits in and out, feeling you shift in his lap to grind against his palm. 

He’s fascinated by you, by the way you move in sync with him, with each movement of his hand you match it with a rock of your hips, or by arching your back.

“Din-” Your voice comes out as a high strangled cry that makes his cock ache against the fabric of his flight suit. 

“Go ahead, I wanna watch.” He mumbles as he presses his cheek to yours, staring down, mesmerized by the sight of you riding his fingers, his own mouth falling open as he feels your entire body tense up, feeling you clamp down on his fingers as you come. He keeps his fingers inside of you until your breathing evens out, once you come down from your orgasm he removes them, bringing them to his mouth as he uses his other hand to reach between the two of you, pulling his cock free. He stares down at the sight of himself against the pretty white fabric of your dress as he moans against his own fingers, stroking himself for a moment before popping his digits out of his mouth, grabbing your hips and lifting you a bit. 

He lets out a small groan as your hands reach down to line him up at your entrance, he lets go of your hips, letting you sink yourself down onto him, his hands wrapping around your thighs instead, squeezing the meat there with a pleased hum. 

You’re going at your own pace as he fights his own impatience, doing his best to not thrust up into you as he latches his mouth onto your shoulder, biting softly as you take nearly all of him, gasping his name the entire time. 

After another moment you’re fully sat in his lap, your breathing heavy as one of his hands moves from your thigh to your clit.

“Can you come again? Like this?” He rasps the words out against your skin, you nod as he begins to swirl his fingers in small precise circles, his moans match your own as he feels you slowly lift yourself off of him, your chest bouncing as you fuck yourself on him. 

Gods as his witness he’ll never wear his helmet again during sex. 

It’s just better to really see you like this, he can’t believe he deprives himself of this so often, the way your body trembles, the sounds you make, everything is simply better without the filters and the modulation. 

“Maker- Din!” Your strained plea snaps him out of his thoughts as he looks at your face, your eyes and nose scrunched up in frustration. “Please, fuck me, Din please.” You always sound so sweet, at this rate he’ll never be able to say no to you.  

He sits up a little to give himself more leverage, one arm wrapped around your waist to steady you, his other hand reaching behind himself to prop himself up as he thrusts up into you. His hips snapping up as he grits his teeth, a growl forming in his throat. He keeps you there for a bit, keeping up a brutal pace as he lets gravity do most of the work, bouncing you on his length, eventually relaxing after feeling your legs give out from under you. He sits back up on his knees, steadying you with both bands now, keeping you impaled on his cock as he leans forward, kissing up the column of your throat.    

“Kiss me, please.” He murmurs against your jaw, desperate for more of you as he lets out a low whine, wishing you would just look at him.

Your eyes shut as you turn your head to kiss him, he brings one hand up to your face, his other still on your stomach as he groans, rocking his hips upwards again. 

“You can look.” He pants, holding his forehead to yours as he stares at your face, contorted in pleasure as he pushes himself deeper into you, watching the way your eyes flutter a bit, never actually opening.

“I- I can’t.” You gasp out as he fucks up into you, short shallow thrusts, relishing in the way you take him, squeezing his cock with every rock of his hips, the way your face looks as he leans in for another kiss, quick and chaste, a sharp juxtaposition to how he’s fucking you, only pulling out in the slightest before slamming back into you. 

“You can, I want you to.” His voice is ragged and desperate at this point. 

“I will, just, not tonight.” 

“Ni vercopaanir gar Ru'kel haa'taylir.” I wish you would look. 

“I will, Din- I promise I will.” He’s sure you didn’t learn enough to know what he said but he’s still satisfied with that answer.

“Okay.” He kisses you again, swallowing your moans as he picks up the pace, pulling you down onto him as he rocks his hips upwards. He manipulates your body like it’s nothing, his hands holding you tightly enough to keep you upright as he continues to slam himself into you, you’re soaking his cock at this point as he muffles his grunts with your mouth. He knows you’re both nearly there, with the way your words become nonsensical. He turns his head to whisper into your ear. “Come for me, sarad.” He groans, his mouth falling open as a slew of filthy noises fall past his lips he feels you pulse around him, he frantically goes to pull out but you shake your head no, slamming your hips back against his and riding out your orgasm he watches you mumble, barely coherently. 

“In- Inside, Din.” 

You don’t have to tell him twice. You give him the sweetest cry as he bites down on your shoulder, he growls against your flesh as he releases the fire pooling in his stomach. 

“Bid jate- bid jate par ni.” So good for me. He mumbles against your shoulder.

He fucks his cum deeper into you with a few more sloppy thrusts before sitting back on his heels, staring at the ceiling as his chest heaves, letting you rest back against him as you go limp in his arms. 

Once he’s caught his breath he leans back, keeping himself inside you as he kicks his legs out. He swallows, still a little unsteady as you sit up, one of his hands wanders to you back, drawing a star there with one of his fingers. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers softly just before you lay back on top of him.

“Why do you do that?” He doesn’t stop you this time as you reach over and turn the lamp off, taking his hands and guiding him to turn the both of you onto your sides as his erection softens inside of you. 

“Do what?” He blinks, adjusting his eyes to the darkness and biting back a groan as you adjust yourself to put your hips flush with his.

“You switch languages, usually when you’re near the end, or when you say something kind.”

Oh.

He’s never really thought about that. 

“How did you know what I said?” He brushes a bit of hair behind your ear as he runs his hand down and up your spine slowly. 

“I asked my question first.”

“Fair enough. I guess it just happens, I’ve never really thought about why. I suppose it’s just another layer of armor, another way to conceal things.” You don’t respond, presumably thinking over his response. “Your turn, how did you know what I said?”

“I guessed.” Smart girl. 

“Of course you did.” He places a kiss against the back of your neck before resting the bridge of his nose there. “Do you wanna sleep like this?” He rocks his hips a bit to accentuate his point, drawing a gasp from you. 

“Yes, please.” You whisper back.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He smiles before closing his eyes, wrapping his arms around you, the last thing he feels before falling asleep is you intertwining your fingers with his. 

☆

He wakes up before you, careful to leave you undisturbed as he reaches over to turn on the lamp, happy to just watch you for a few more minutes before he leaves. Watching the rise and fall of your chest. After a moment he realizes he slipped out of you while he slept.

He’s in no rush but he knows the moment you wake he’ll have to go so he stays still for a while, enjoying the morning quiet until your eyes slowly open, and you stretch your arms with a groan. 

“Good morning, sarad.” He says softly, kissing your shoulder as you shudder at the sensation. 

“You’re leaving.” You whisper to him.

“I am.” 

Much to his surprise you turn to face him, of course he realizes a second too late that your eyes are closed. 

“Be safe.” You murmur, taking his face in your hands before kissing him. Maybe this will be a happy morning despite his worries about going. 

“Always.” He gives you another kiss before sitting up, dressing himself quickly, looking over at you every so often only to find that your eyes are closed until you hear the soft hiss of his helmet. 

“I’m serious, you better be careful.” You sit up and face him as he kneels beside you.

“I will, I promise.” He holds your face in one hand. “Goodbye, sarad’ika.” You give him a radiant smile. 

“Ret'urcye mhi, cyare.” Goodbye, beloved. That’s what you’d been learning yesterday. He’s a little taken aback by the sound of those words leaving your mouth, his own smile forming. 

“Jate bora” Good job. 

He doesn’t tell you how poorly you pronounced each of those words, too infatuated to care as he leans down, lifting his helmet enough to kiss your forehead. 

“I’ll be back in a few days, okay?”

“Okay.” 

He uses his free hand to gently grab your chin, giving you one last kiss.

“I’ll see you soon.” Once he’s shut the closet door he slips the fail safe box under your bed. 

And just like that he’s out the door, on his way to the nearest shipyard. 

☆

It goes surprisingly smoothly. 

He’s only gone for about four days, he gets lucky as far as transportation goes, managing to catch a cargo ship going directly to the planet he’s looking for. He doesn’t recognize it and in all honesty he isn’t sure he’s ever been there but he finds the convert easily enough.

It took a bit of convincing but he got what he needed from the armorer and just like that he was catching a ship back to you with two rings attached to a thin chain around his neck. 

He’s eager to see you immediately after landing but he’s filthy from the trip so he goes to the cabin first, shedding his armor and clothes before stepping into the fresher. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t started taking care of himself more after meeting you. 

He’d avoided mirrors all together until you. 

He’d shave when his beard got unmanageable. He’d cut his hair when it stuck out the back of his helmet. And that was it. 

And then you came along and suddenly he was staring at himself in the dingy mirror he’s in front of now. The first day he realized he wanted to impress you he spent hours in the cabin fresher, trying to even out his facial hair, and give himself something that resembled a respectable haircut. He needs another one soon, staring at himself now he knows he’ll need to shave before he sees you but he can probably go a few more weeks without a haircut. 

He’s pretty sure you like his hair long, even if you’ve never seen it, that’s the only reason he hasn’t just buzzed it all, the way he’d normally do it. You’re always touching it. 

So he cleans up his beard before stepping into the shower, he’s in a hurry, scrubbing away the days of travel and grime. He finds a clean flightsuit and dons his armor as quickly as possible, his hair is still wet when he puts the helmet back on. 

He makes a beeline towards the castle as the sun sets, the promise of you drives him forward despite his exhaustion. 

He checks the library first, finding the nook to be empty. He goes to your chambers, if his count is correct you would have had dinner with Kodo yesterday, so if you aren’t reading you should be in your room. He’s pleased to see a nervous looking Leo outside your door, his eyes go wide as Din approaches. 

He stops a few inches away from Leodall, looming over him. 

“Everything went smoothly?” His voice is low and husky. His professional voice. 

“Yes, of course.” He’s pretty sure Leo is too scared of him to lie so he gives him a curt nod of approval. 

“Then you’re dismissed, thank you.” He really is thankful, despite his dislike for the twi’lek. He watches him scurry away before hastily pushing your door open, stepping inside to find you there. 

You’re laying on your stomach, a book laid out on the bed in front of you. A look of anger crosses your face when you look up, assuming you’d find Leo in the doorway but once you see him you’re sitting up, rushing over to him and wrapping your arms around him. 

“I missed you.” You mumble against his chest plate as he returns your embrace.

“It was only a few days.” He laughs softly as you look up at him. He’s just happy to be with you again. 

“That doesn’t mean anything, I still missed you.” With the way you’re looking at him it’s a wonder he doesn’t get on one knee right now. 

Instead he can’t help it as he yawns, he’d been in such a rush to return to you he’d barely slept during his trip.

“Are you tired?” Your brows furrow in concern as he shakes his head no. 

“No, I’m fine, I’m just happy to see you.” He’s about to lift his helmet to kiss you, but you frown and pull him towards the closet. He isn’t entirely sure he’s going to be able to properly fuck you in this state but he’ll make it work. As you shut the door he starts taking off his armor and you turn to help him, carefully removing each piece until he’s in just his flight suit and helmet. You gently put your hands on his shoulders, pushing him down to the floor before kneeling beside him. He puts his hands on your waist and is a little surprised when you tenderly pull them away. 

“Lay on your stomach.” You tilt your head to the side and he’s about to argue but you click your tongue and point at the blankets. “I let you disappear for a few days with no questions, you owe me, now lay down. And take off your flight suit.” 

With a reluctant groan he does as he’s told, sliding his flight suit down to his waist, his confusion only growing as you straddle his back. His bewilderment vanishes though as he feels your hands kneading his shoulders. He’s about to flip himself over and tell you he’s fine but as he opens his mouth to complain you dig the heel of your palm into his back and instead a moan slips out. 

He doesn’t make much of a fuss after that, letting you methodically take care of the many knots and tense spots across his back. 

He turns his head to the side, closing his eyes as you hum a song to yourself, caressing and kneading every inch of visible skin until you’re satisfied. He feels you lean down, planting a kiss along his spine before climbing off of him and laying down beside him, he sits up with another rather embarrassing moan. He’s trying to flip you over to do you as you laugh, pulling him back down to lay with you. 

“You need sleep.” You once again catch him off guard as he feels your fingers on the helmet release, the kiss of air accompanied by the click of the lamp as you remove his helmet, kissing his forehead. 

“I missed you too.” He whispers into the darkness, realizing he hasn’t said it yet.

“I know you did, now get some sleep.” You pull his head down against your chest, squeezing his shoulder as you do. He really is exhausted, he hadn’t realized until he was reunited with you that he doesn’t sleep as well without you. 

“I love you.” He sleepily mumbles against your chest. 

No one takes care of him the way you do. Your soft hands continue to rub his back as he succumbs to sleep. 

“I love you too.” He feels another kiss on his forehead as he exhales the last of his energy. 

If he wasn’t so tired he probably would have proposed right then and there. 

☆

Having the rings has made him a mess.

Anytime you do anything he just wants to ask. When you’d kissed him this morning, when you’d walked out of your room in a green dress grinning at him like you’d done it just for him, when you’d handed him the speeder maintenance book from before because you just knew he hadn’t read it last time. 

And right now, as you read like you always do, sitting beside him. 

Now more than ever he wants to ask. 

He had wanted so badly for it to be special. 

He was thinking of maybe doing it in the gardens some night, where he had kissed you for the first time. But you look exactly how he always wants you to look right now. 

Your face buried in a romance book with a smile dancing on your lips. 

Tucked away in the nook, safe from the world. 

“How much of the Mando’a book did you end up reading?” He plays with the edge of the page he’s on now, he’s been pretending to read again, unable to pull his focus from you. 

“The translation book? Not a lot.” He watches as you turn to give him a smile. 

“Do you know what riduur means?” He knows you don’t, but he can’t stop himself from saying it. 

“No, I don't think I learned that.” You close your book, staring at him curiously. 

“It means partner, or spouse.” 

“Oh. Okay…” Your eyes get a little bigger once he says that. 

He gives you a nod before looking back down at his own book, silently cursing himself out for not going through with it. He hadn’t realized that having rings made would make him fall apart every time he’s in your presence. 

You’re just so… perfect. Do you have to be so perfect? You learn his language and you respect him and you love him and you’re endlessly sweet. 

He just wants to keep you like this forever.

Safe and happy. 

That’s why he can’t help himself as he sets his book down, he fidgets with his helmet for a moment before turning off the modulator, he wants you to hear his voice without the filter, sitting up, he cradles your face in his hands. 

“Can I ask you something?” He whispers.  

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

[dadsbongos]

yuuji x reader where the reader is nothing like his type at all (completely flat) I know you did a fic like this and i loved it so much but could you do a fic for the more flat chested girlies?? even a drabble is good! i loce ur work u are soo talented!!

oopsie i finished this the day i got it n then forgot to post it!! sorries!!

yuuji is so boy-coded in that he says what he’s thinking and doesn’t think it could be hurtful </3 also size kink hints

~~~ 18+ under the cut

“Angel face,” Yuuji grins like he’s proud of himself, and sadly, you know he is, “I got enough for the both of us.”

“Not funny!” you chuck the nearest pillow at his face, but your boyfriend easily catches it with a single hand. You watch his thick fingers dig and pull at the plush, he stretches the cushion between both hands before tossing it back towards you, “I’m trying to be serious, Yuuji…”

“So am I,” he frowns, all for show, plopping onto your bed beside you. He stares over your forlorn expression and his twists with sincerity, “Really, angel, I don’t…” he hesitates and you feel shame in how it makes your heart freeze, “I dunno how to explain it, but it doesn’t actually matter to me.”

You lean back onto your palm at that, raising an eyebrow at him, “It doesn’t matter?”

“Not really!” he shrugs, grinning sheepishly, “I just think you’re pretty. It’s not a turn off that you’re flat,” your wince at his choice of words does not go unnoticed, “It isn’t! You’re hot!” he leans into your space, bright grin now burning into your cheek as he kisses from your face and into the moor of your neck. He reaches up, fingers snaking under your shirt, “My angel’s the prettiest girl in the world.”

“You think so?”

“Baby,” he mutters into the hotbed of your skin, teething at the soft patch like a starved puppy, “I want you so bad all the time,” as if he senses your thrumming disbelief, he repeats himself, “All the time.”

His hands cover the entirety of your breasts and it drives him wild. Sparks something he’s unwilling to admit just yet: how crazy he goes for the way his body engulfs yours. Brain overheating and whole body jittering when he can feel your body pliant and dwarfed by his thicker frame. 

Besides, as much as he adores your looks, it isn’t as though your body is the most interesting thing about you. You’ve got Yuuji collared and leashed anyhow, the distribution of fat on your body couldn’t sway his heart.

Not in the slightest.

He digs his hands into your waist and laves your petite tits with violet kisses before stretching down to settle your thighs comfortably over his shoulder. Yuuji nestles into your warm body and digs out euphoria in earnest desperation. He’s certain that if he could curl up anywhere to rot away, he’d choose atop your body.

In the meantime, Yuuji excitedly works between your legs to remind you that he most certainly has enough thickness for the both of you.

[whiskersz]

heyy! I’d love to request something for Hazbin Hotel if there’s still space in your inbox! I would like a ficlet of Angel Dust x gn! reader in which he comes back to the hotel after an awful day with Val and just breaks down when he sees them. Then reader can take care of him, give him a hug and prepare a warm bath and comfy clothes for him because he must feel uncomfortable wearing his “work clothes” after such a bad day… I just want to hold him and wipe his smudged makeup off and tell him that everything will be okay 🫂🫂

obv feel free to ignore this if it doesn’t inspire you!

Hey there! This is...kinda long, hope that's okay!! (1k words or so) Also had a mildly irritating day today so writing this was therapeutic, even though I started this yesterday. Anyhow, hope you enjoy :3

Angel x Gn!Reader - Solace

First came the thunder, then the blaring sound of a car door being slammed close. It was a particularly gloomy evening in Hell, heavy drops of rain battered against the walls of the Hazbin Hotel, which seemed uncharacteristically quiet besides the occasional cheery tune sang by Niffty, who was still dealing with cleaning.

Your head shot up at the sound of the tires of the limousine screeching outside, and you quickly threw your phone aside as you guessed you would be dealing with more important matters tonight, seeing as your boyfriend Angel had returned later than usual.

That was never a good sign.

Picking up a random umbrella from the stand placed near the entrance of the Hotel, you swiftly opened the door after pressing the button on the little remote designed to unlock the gate outside.

The air was frigid, yet you still made your way towards Angel, who seemed to be trudging himself more than walking. As you shielded him from the rain, his baggy eyes met yours, and he immediately threw himself in your arms, wetting your clothes with the rain water he was soaked in.

“Shit, they didn’t even give you an umbrella?” you hissed, walking him inside; “What happened today Angel?”

You didn’t think he could’ve furrowed his eyebrows more. Tears prickled his eyes as he answered you;

“Let’s not...talk about it.”

The lack of pet names in his sentence and wiliness in his voice concerned you greatly. Even Husk refrained from offering him a drink, focusing on the glass he was rinsing instead.

Angel didn’t even bother saying hello to the rest of the residents of the Hotel, opting to stay by your side as you led him to his room. Once you finally closed the door and you could have a moment of privacy, he let a sob escape his mouth, and you immediately wrapped your arms around his figure.

Despite being taller than you he still hid his head in the crook of your neck, holding onto you for dear life as you gently drew circles on his back with one hand and massaged his scalp with the other. You could feel that his hair was a mess, wet and tangled, yet you still placed kisses on the top of his head and whispered sweet nothings in the hope that he’d calm down.

He tried letting himself fall onto his bed, but you steadied him;

“Baby,” you murmured, “you’re soaked. How about a bath first, hm?”

His clothes were also not the most appropriate for cuddling and resting, you noticed.

He gave you a weak nod and reluctantly separated his body from yours, letting you hold his hand and walk with him to his private bathroom.

You had done this before; your hand reached for the soft pink chair he had placed behind the door and dragged it near his bathtub, then for the various products Angel usually used when he took a bath or a shower. Shampoo and conditioner for his hair, his comb, body wash, his sponge and finally his fancy bathrobe. You neatly placed everything within arm’s reach and turned on the faucet, turning your gaze back to Angel.

“I think it’s only fair if I take care of you tonight. If you’re okay with it, of course?” you asked him with a soft smile. He returned it.

“Of course. It’s just...”

You didn’t fully get it at first, but then he gestured to his body with one set of his arms, holding himself with the other, and you finally got what he was trying to tell you.

“I told you so many times love. I’m not disgusted by you, I’m disgusted by...what he does to you.” Your mind dared wandering to Valentino, and you asked yourself what he could’ve done to your partner that night. You decided not to dwell on it for the time being.

Angel let out a sigh, starting to undress. You had seen each other’s bodies many times before, but you still turned around out of respect and focused on your nails until he was done and inside the bathtub, which had been filled with warm water in the meantime.

Your gaze fell on a little box placed on the edge of the tub; opening it, you fished out a spider web shaped bath bomb; in the corner of your eye you could see Angel’s expression brightening a little, and a smile naturally grew on your face.

“I think you deserve some fun.” You stated, plopping it into the water, which immediately started fizzing around it.

Angel relaxed, leaning his back against the wall behind him, and slid slightly deeper into the water as you sat down on the chair you had dragged nearby earlier. Silence temporarily filled the bathroom as you both observed the bath bomb shrink, tinting the water a bright pink with sparkles.

Soon afterwards you found yourself going through your usual bad day’s routine with Angel; gently wiping off the smeared makeup on his face, massaging the shampoo on his scalp – you were the only one allowed to touch his hair like this – and talking about your own day to him as he washed his body to distract him from the bad thoughts he got just from the sight of the rope burns on his wrists. You had to bite back a vexed insult directed at Valentino when your eyes fell on those.

You decided to prepare some comfortable clothes for him as he dried his hair; settling on a cute but comfortable pink sweatshirt and shorts of the same color, you neatly folded them on his bed and sat beside them, noticing that someone had dropped your phone off while you were busy bathing with Angel. Most likely Husk, you thought; you mindlessly scrolled on your socials until you heard the bathroom’s door open.

Angel emerged from it, fluffy hair held back from his forehead by a headband and his body kept warm by his bathrobe.

“Oh, you’re done. Here’s your clothes sweetheart,” you handed them to him, and he thanked you with a kiss. Your attention returned on your phone for a short while as he was dressing himself up.

You heard him sigh at some point though; you curiously looked up at him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, worried.

“Would it be too much sugar...to ask for cuddles tonight?” he asked with an uncharacteristically shy smile.

Throwing your phone aside you shook your head, and opened your arms as an invitation. He swiftly took it and climbed into bed, positioning himself in your lap. Your arms draped across the small of his back and he breathed out contently, nuzzling his head against your shoulder.

You both listened to the rain outside incessantly falling down, and you softly leaned backwards until your back touched the mattress. As Angel’s breaths steadied and he began quietly snoring you looked down at him, your heart filled with warmth.

I’ve got you now, you thought, breathing in his scent; he can’t hurt you as long as you’re with me.

[grandisknight]

thinking thoughts / rafayel, verona, and omnipotent perception

+ note: mostly just ramblings, take them with a grain of salt if you please ♡

+ will contain spoilers for both the 「omnipotent perception」 story and 「siren’s song」 anecdote

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

i wonder if rafayel’s 「omnipotent perception」 takes place in the city of verona that his third anecdote「siren’s song」

(1) rafayel mentions how the city they’re in has a theater ; 3rd anecdote has a play taking place in the royal opera house — so it could be the same one?

he does know their touring city pretty well, as we come to find out from the beginning of the memory alone ; plus, he was a former performer in verona so surely he must be intimately familiar with the city anyhow from years spent alone (even with the presence of aunt talia)

(bonus: talia mentions how verona’s hosting an art exhibit and how he would be interested? though he ultimately brushes it off. coincidentally, rafayel and mc are in town due to his business concluding with an art exhibition)(wink wink nudge nudge)

(2) not only that but it’s interesting to note the significance of bathtubs for rafayel in relation to his past — a reminder of his sins, consequences of bearing them and witnessing the dwindling downfall of lemuria and its people. he’s both been the dealing hand and the perceiving eye ; rafayel’s kindled for 「omnipotent perception」 takes place in a bathtub, where he’s vulnerable in expressing himself and in such an intimate setting as well

furthermore in 「omnipotent perception」, rafayel tells the antique owner that MC thinks she understands him but doesn’t. later on, in the bathtub asks MC if he would still like her no matter what became of him.

i think it’s an interesting nod towards his character, more specifically the lemurian history and experiences that he has yet to fully reveal. there’s more to him than what meets the eye — but he is definitely willing to welcome MC into his world once more, ending the kindled with

“Join me. Let’s drown in the ocean. Together.”

also side note for the majority of the 3rd anecdote, rafayel stays in verona — it’s only at the end when he embarks to linkon city and presumably has a photo of MC (could also be a nod to his second anecdote in chapter 4 ‘bait’) ;

so in the end, i’d like to think that the pair traveled back to the city after all this time 🙂‍↕️ it’s somewhat of a bittersweet memory/time for rafayel and i’d like to think the memories he made with MC in omnipotent perception could act as a bandaid to those sorrow-laced tabs in his past

⊹˚₊‧───────────‧₊˚⊹

tldr: i headcanon that rafayel’s 「omnipotent perception」 memory takes place in the city of verona and really appreciate the ties to his lemurian lore and anecdotes! hope to see more of it moving forward love u fishie ur character fascinates me <3

(if this has already been debunked pretend like this post never happened /lh /j)

[miloscozycorner]

hiya! idk if you write for agatha, so just ignore this if you dont!

if you do then yay!! would u do hcs of agatha being a carer for a baby regressor reader? thanks! have a good day!

I do write for Agatha! I love her :’) sadly I haven’t watched Agatha All Along yet, but I have lots of friends who are bugging me to! Gotta get on that.. anyhow, enjoy! ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

- Loves to show off her magic to impress you! Agatha learns lots of different magic tricks just to show off. Doesn’t even matter if it’s real magic or not- you’ll always be impressed.

- Buys lots of purple things for you- she thinks it’s adorable for you to match with her. Purple sippy cups, pacis, anything.

- Even though you’re usually too tiny to maintain a conversation, she loves to go along with it. You’ll babble about something and she’ll nod enthusiastically. “You’re so right, baby!”

- Playtime with Señor Scratchy is a must. Lots of pets and cuddles with him, and you hold him if you’re very gentle :3

- Very protective- doesn’t really like when her baby does too much exploring. She’d much rather keep you bundled up and safe with her >:p

- Constant affection! She’s super clingy so she’s always holding you, wanting to cuddle, all of it. “Why don’t you give mama a hug?”

- Just very soft in general. Coos to you, calls you silly petnames. No matter how scary she is to anyone else, you’re her baby :’3!

[aidemint]

To Break A Habit | Routine Doesn’t Get You Kisses Like These

Summary: You kinda-actually find out he wasn’t joking about the spider stuff. Okay. But you’re totally cool about it. Totally.

Word Count: 5.1k

Pairing: Hobie Brown/GN!Reader

Notes: 5 minutes of screentime and i’ve already wrote more about this guy in a week than i usually write about anything in three months jesus christ

Masterpost | AO3 |  Part 1 | Part 3

“40081’s got this hoodoo shit goin’ on.” Hobie sighs as he makes his way down the main hall of Spider-HQ, recounting his mission discoveries from days prior. “Some sort of bad luck spell that’s making the world lose its plot.”

Gwen paces beside him, listening intently. “Sinister Six behind it?” she asks with a frown. “Or do you think it’s something else?”

“Not certain,” Hobie responds with a shrug. “But I’m close to catching the anomaly. Things should reset once it’s out of the fabric.”

“Hope it gets resolved soon.” Gwen sucks in a breath from between her teeth. “Miguel’s not looking too happy these days.”

Oddly enough, the mission so far had been almost deceptively easy—three days into the operation Hobie had already located and shut down a multitude of energy pockets emanating from certain parts of the city. A variant of Mysterio or Osborn was bound to show up soon, as the sites were likely siphoning vitality from the dimension. Now he just needed to gather intel about the effects of the magic while playing the waiting game. Luckily for him, he has a direct source.

“Relax Gwendy, it’ll be fine. I even got in touch with one of the locals for—” Hobie starts assuredly, turning to address his drummer, but pauses and swivels around when she’s noticeably no longer keeping up with his stride.

“You what?” Gwen stands frozen in the middle of the walkway, eyes blown as large as dinner plates with her mouth slightly ajar. She readjusts herself with a shake of her head, though her hands and shoulders remain raised and stiff. “Hobie, please tell me you’re not getting to know a civilian. ”

“Then I won’t tell you that I’m ‘getting to know’ a civilian.” A roll of his shoulder and he’s back walking, half-lidded eyes peering at Gwen when she inevitably joins again, bobbing and weaving through a downcurrent flow of Peter Parkers. “And I won’t tell you that it’s strictly for information about the mission.” A coy smile tugs the edges of Hobie’s lips upward. “Probably.”

Gwen looks just about ready to explode at the last quip. “You just told me— Oh my God, you know that, out of everything, is against protocol. Very against protocol,” she hisses, her voice lowering as her lip curls and she leans further into the privacy of only each others’ company. “What will you do when Miguel finds out?”

“You gotta live freely past the propaganda, Gwendy,” Hobie replies nonchalantly, patting a palm on her shoulder as a point of reassurance. “Just think about it.”

The best Gwen can offer him is a wary glance and a moment of hesitation, but he takes it with a grin anyhow. He’s certain she’ll eventually come around—the extent of their friendship isn’t something so miniscule that a few words of indoctrination would ever be enough to turn her.

It’s a nice notion to have, but he unfortunately doesn’t get much time to dwell on it—suddenly, his watch buzzes with an alert.

Hobie checks the device. “Someone’s ringing me, gotta bounce.” A few taps of an orange screen and a twist of a dial, then a portal opens up just shy of his left arm. “Been fun, Gwendy. Don’t blame me if I come back late.”

No matter how hard she rolls her eyes, Gwen can’t help but give into the smile that creeps onto her lips. “Stay safe, loser,” she responds, bumping her fist against his.

“Safe is practically my middle name.” With that, Hobie ducks into the gateway, and disappears.

How the fuck do you accuse someone of having spider powers without sounding like you’ve gone insane? Since morning you’ve been stuck in a cycle of decision-making for a seemingly hopeless situation. You thought the hard part was over after seeing the guy in the costume swing away on white silly string, but the mostly sleepless night and brainstorming the resolution to be had was another beast altogether. What doesn’t help much either is the fact your favorite pair of jeans are now stained to shit because an idiot thought it would be a good idea to trickshot a half-full Starbucks drink into a trashcan you were standing right next to.

Oh, New York, how it surprises you each day. You swear you’ve never had bad luck like this in your life—and now you’re twenty minutes late, punching in your timecard and hurrying to tie on an apron.

Even through your shift the anxiety doesn’t go away, despite how you try to ignore it. Nervous energy bleeds into your work, shaking hands spilling and dropping drinks; your preoccupied mind is nowhere near as focused as you need to be for the rush—you remake a drink three times in a row before being on the receiving end of a tired lecture from an angry customer.

“Something on your mind?” one of your coworkers ends up asking after most of the crowd has dissipated. “Or just tired?”

You’re on the verge of bursting into tears actually, but you manage to stifle it with a deep breath in. “A lot of both,” you mumble in response. You can’t tell her about Hobie, and it’d be too winding to describe the entirety of everything. She’s pretty good at giving looks of pity and she’s already shot you one following the complaining customer. Honestly another one is the last thing you want to deal with right now. “Maybe I should’ve just skipped work today.”

“Don’t worry, we all have bad days,” she offers with a consoling pat on the arm. “How about you just calm down for a bit and take your break? I’ll make you your favorite drink and get a bowl started for you.”

The gesture does ease your nerves, even if only by a little. You sigh, shoulders slumping, and give your coworker a grateful smile. Parting ways then, she returns to her station to honor her word and you make your way to the back to punch in the start of your break.

Exhaustion starts to seep in when you catch yourself staring blankly at the time card machine, watching the hands of the clock tick away second by second. There hasn’t been significant progress in terms of settling the whole “Hobie Brown is a superhero” dilemma, you realize, just a lot of pain and aching on your part. Maybe it’s time to put the matter to rest just for a brief half an hour—you’ll pick it up later. There isn’t even a guarantee Hobie will show up to the shop anyhow.

Yeah, you have time.

The chunk sound of the punch machine brings you back to your senses and you put away your slip before making your way back to the front of the house.

“Drink’s ready and bowl’s on the way. You can enjoy that while you wait,” your coworker chirps, sliding a cup to you when you emerge from the back. You’re just about to voice your thanks before she cuts in again, gesturing to a spot just beyond the counter. “Oh, and someone asked for you. He’s right over there.”

Your eye is already twitching before you even look. But you suppose you hate yourself and the world at this point, because you slowly turn to where her hand points regardless and find the one man you just made a pact with yourself to not think about.

Hobie greets you by name and gives you a friendly wave. Out of courtesy, you force yourself to return in, lips pressed together in a tight smile with the short extension of your hand.

“Heard it was your break,” he says, approaching the glass panel between the two of you. “Mind if I intrude?”

Yes! you scream internally. Yes I do mind very much!

“No, it’s alright,” you end up saying to him, staving off a growing impulse to whack yourself upside the head.

“Sick,” is all Hobie replies with before he retreats to a nearby table. “I’ll be waiting here—don’t rush yourself.”

It’s right about now that you’re wishing he wasn’t so nice and you didn’t like him so much so that this process of confrontation would go about smoother. Your gaze lingers on him and you bite in the inside of your cheek as you think about the validity of what you witnessed yesterday.

The option to not tell him and maintain your chances of still potentially becoming friends like normal exists. Dodging the awry reputation that comes with the manic conspiracy theorist persona is always good. You’ll get over it one day, right? Leave the suspicions behind and assume that the image was just a hallucination brought about by stress; convince yourself that Hobie Brown is just your average British punk-rocker.

But you can’t fight the feeling in your gut, how it burns, and suddenly you’re leaning over the counter, over the glass.

This is a bad idea. “Hobie,” you call in his direction.

He looks up. “Yeah?”

Shit, this is a bad idea. “I have something to tell you.”

“Wah’gawn?”

“It’s… I think it’s a matter best told in just our own company.” You look around apprehensively, a slight crease in your brow. “Mind going somewhere more private?”

Trying your best to ignore the suggestive look your coworker shoots at you from your peripheral, you beckon Hobie to come into the back. Walking through the kitchen, you usher him into the storage pantry and shut the door behind you when you join him.

“I’m guessing we’re not just here to kotch?” Hobie teases with the sideways tilt of his head.

“Unfortunately.” Your gaze lowers to the ground at the admission, fingers finding one another and squeezing. “Been thinking about something for a while.”

Hobie lets the change in the air stew until it thickens before responding. “Ready when you are.” His voice is softer, malleable, lost of all its previous playfulness and replaced with a certain kind of sincerity.

The slightest incline of your chin brings your stare back to him. You wish it served the simple purpose of just admiring the slopes and angles of his face, but your lips part and your curled hand trembles, and it all reminds you of the gnawing insecurity.

“I need you to tell me the truth.” You say it slowly, sincerely, keeping your voice as steady as you can despite the way your heart rate thunders. “Please.”

In your supplication, you aren’t certain how to appraise the extent of your desperation, but Hobie’s gaze does not leave yours. He nods wordlessly, a glint of something in his eye and it looks a lot like deference.

You take it as permission to continue. “When you brought up Parker”—you swallow thickly—“you were talking about something real, weren’t you?”

A beat of silence. There isn’t any external reaction from Hobie, standing as still as he had the moment he stopped in front of you, face lax and hands tucked away in his pockets.

“Ain’t got a Scooby-Doo what you’re talking about,” he says plainly, unfaltering in every word. Even then he doesn’t move, fortress-like in his disposition.

Perhaps he truly doesn’t know what you mean, you think. The chance is present, albeit slim, though present nonetheless—and how tightly you clutch this sliver of hope. But for a moment, in your hesitancy and under Hobie’s untelling stare, doubt creeps in—your palms grow clammy against the material of your pants, sweat assisting the glide of your fingers against one another. Your eyes search those of the man in front of you, wishing his look could change so you could find the courage to ground yourself.

What if you’re wrong? What if it’s all a fallacy, some trick of the light? New York is no stranger to oddities but even this seems too extreme. Coincidental talk of Spider-People leading to an impossible accusation. Fucking Spider-People don’t—shouldn’t—exist. The idea grows more absurd the longer you question it. Peter Parker got the short end of the stick, if there was even a long end in the first place, so what the hell are you doing?

But what if you’re right?

A breath rattles through you. “Hobie.” With a new waver in your voice and a tremble to your hands, you stand unsure of how your conviction bleeds through what you say but you try anyhow. “I know you’re gonna think I’m crazy, but I saw a masked man walking on the side of a building yesterday.” The admission comes quickly, riddled with cracks, but you’re entirely too focused on the followup to care. “After the conversation we had about Spider-People, after the whole thing about superheroes, tell me that it wasn’t you up there. Because I saw your— your fucking pins and I’ve never— God, I don’t even know! I’ve never seen something like this.”

Your fists clench, fingers digging crescent-shaped craters into the flesh of your palms. The marks bite, angry red and stinging—perhaps aching even more the absence of Hobie’s response, the seconds you give him to reply.

“Who are you?” Dry—your throat is so dry. Your voice can’t be anything above a whisper with how hoarse the question comes, flaking away with every shallow breath you take.

Silence blankets the both of you then, soundless space a limbo between comfort and unease. Unsure of what to do with it, what to make of the situation you stand in now, you let it hang listlessly, drawing upon an empty room and an even emptier conversation.

It takes a handful of moments for Hobie to even look like he’s processed all that you’ve said. Under your scrutiny, the smallest movement of his eye is the only discernible change to the testament. Whatever goes on inside his head is a complete mystery to you for the few minutes that elapse before he speaks.

Finally, he shifts in his stance. “You want me to just come out with it, yeah?” he asks, not sounding terribly happy, but not as nonplussed as you expected. He sighs when you nod slowly. “Alright. I’ll start from the top, then.”

He tells you his name is still in fact Hobie Brown, and he was bitten by a radioactive spider three years ago. Formerly a runway model, though not a role model, he’s been protecting the streets of his hometown against the PM. When he’s not playing shows, antagonizing fascists, or staging unpermitted political “action-slash-performance art pieces,” he’s out partying with his friends.

“And don’t call me a hero,” he ends with a frown. “Hate the label. Calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologizing, narcissistic autocrat.”

When he stops, you have both hands to your temples, pressing down hard. You can deal with his anti-authority spiel just fine—some part of you even agrees with the sentiment—but there is so much to unpack prior to the statement.

“So you— you have actual spider powers? Oh my God?” you sputter, eyes blown wide in an expression of surprise you’re sure looks exaggeratedly dreadful. “What even— that’s— what even are spider powers?”

“Dunno really.” Hobie gives a shrug. “Enhanced hearing, speed, vision, and sticking to walls are the main perks. Also links up to my—”

“Can you shoot webs out of your butt?” you blurt in a sudden horrible realization.

There’s a few seconds of tense silence before Hobie bursts into laughter, arms crossed around his torso to hold himself, shoulders bunched to his ears. The ring of his joy through the air lifts a weight from it and suddenly the atmosphere doesn’t feel as crushing as before.

Witnessing his state, it doesn’t take long for unease to fade away and for you to start softly chuckling with him.

“You’re so jokes,” Hobie cackles, a hand over his eyes as he leans back. A long, shuddering breath tears through him in his attempt to calm down. “But to answer your question, no I can’t shoot webs out of my arse.”

“Thank God,” you breathe, clutching your heart. “Wouldn’t have looked at you the same if you said you could.”

“I don’t think I can look at you the same after you just asked that.”

“Hey, in my defense it was just to get to know you better.”

“I’m sure that’s all it was.” Hobie gives you a pointed look, but is quick to smile after. “Speaking of which, I came in to ask you something as well.”

“Oh?” You blink. The sudden shift in conversation is unprecedented, taking you slightly by surprise, but suspicion is quick to replace your wonderment when you notice a change in Hobie’s features. A squint narrows your eyes. “What are you plotting?”

“Nothing, it’s just I have an excuse now that you know me better.” He pauses briefly, staring at you for a moment. “I wanted to ask if I could know you a little better.”

Your lips purse in confusion at the phrase, forehead pinching. “But you already know me?” you ask, brow raised. “Don’t tell me you forgot everything already.”

“I didn’t,” Hobie reassures gently. “I was just thinking instead of talking over a counter we could do it over dinner? Maybe a movie, if you have the time?”

A beat passes and suddenly realization sets in, drawing all the air out of you. The smallest groan escapes you as you bury your face in your palms, the skin of your neck and cheeks burning hot. Every inch of you seems more sensitive in your mortification—were you always this close to Hobie, and was his cologne always that strong?

“I’m an idiot,” you whisper from between the gap in your hands. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

Hobie supplies a soft chuckle to ease your embarrassment. “You’re not. It came out pretty corny anyways.”

“I can’t believe I’m getting asked out by a guy with spider powers.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

You groan again, a tight breath pressed against your fingers. “You are so lucky you’re cute, Hobie Brown.”

It is as endearing as it is exasperating that you can practically hear how big his smile is. “You free tomorrow?”

“Anytime past five,” you reply softly, slowly inching your hands away from your face to peer at him. “Where should I meet you?”

Hobie’s grin tilts sideways at the query, a new sparkle of mischief brightening his eye. “I’ll come pick you up.”

Dates aren’t exactly a new concept to you—you’ve been on a handful, and they all go about the same. The first time, someone shows up with flowers or a small gift to start the evening right, then you’re whisked away for three hours to some place to hang around and have fun. It’s conventional, it’s safe—sometimes you enjoy the company more than the actual activity, leading to a second or third outing, but there’s nothing too special about the dance you do with routine.

Along this line of reasoning, Hobie crash-landing on your balcony with one of the most ridiculous offers of transportation isn’t exactly the way you imagined your date would start.

“You are not web-swinging me to Manhattan,” you tell him, still inside your apartment, arms crossed and shaking your head vigorously. “I don’t care what you have set up, I’m not gonna risk going splat on the damn concrete.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Hobie pushes playfully. “Promise I won’t drop you.”

You frown, brows furrowing and lips pursing as you glare at him. He returns the look as calm as ever, a slight smile edging the corners of his mouth and stance open in invitation. The way he holds himself has uncertainty creeping to you, forcing out your fervent disagreement in favor of consideration in a rather slick way of persuasion.

Perhaps you should’ve known you wouldn’t win, with the sheer difference in your demeanors. Your staredown continues for a couple of minutes before you sigh, breaking eye contact with a reluctant drop of your chin and a gentle moan of diffidence.

“Can I at least close my eyes?” you mumble, walking out and shutting the balcony door behind you.

“You can do whatever you want,” Hobie replies, sliding on his mask and gloves. “Just hold on tight.”

Stifling a breath when his arm wraps around the small of your back and under your thighs, you cling to his shoulders as he lifts you up and climbs on the railing.

“You ready?” His chest rumbles under your touch when he speaks, and you can only give a small nod in your position, heart pounding against your ribs and face buried deep in the nape of his neck.

Hobie laughs—a deep, warm sound—and then launches off your balcony.

There are no words to truly describe the feeling that swallows you while in freefall. Wind blasts past your ears in violent howls, gravity pulls your figure down but your insides up, and the only thing you have to ground yourself is the feel of Hobie as you clutch him with every bit of strength you possess. Adrenaline thrums through every vein, lighting your nerves on fire and prickling your skin with gooseflesh; even your energy to scream depletes into fueling the rush that floods your senses.

Upon the first pull up, Hobie’s web catching a surface to swing from, your gut lurches and a serrated gasp shudders through you. Your arms pull you impossibly closer to him, fingers clawing to dig deeper into the back of his vest.

“Easy now,” he chuckles, sounding miles away with how loud your heart beats in your ears. “I promised I wasn’t gonna drop you, didn’t I?”

“D-Doesn’t make it better,” you gasp, shivering now that the breeze whips against your back.

“Try to relax—we’ll be there soon.” Though he says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world, it proves contrary to the way his grip tightens around you with the next swing.

Despite how comforting the gesture is, you find that you can’t relax much while still flying through New York a hundred feet in the air.

After what seems like days of travel, Hobie finally lands on solid ground, giving you a moment to catch your breath before setting you down gently. His arms are threaded underneath yours as you try to balance on shaky legs, knees bent and feeling all too much like jelly for your own comfort.

“I feel like a newborn deer,” you sigh, voice trembling from the withdrawal of adrenaline. Jitters quiver your fingers, lightly chatter your teeth, and shake the thin chamber of your chest. “My God, how do you even get used to this?”

“Gotta learn to trust yourself,” Hobie hums smoothly. “First time’s always a tad tricky.”

You only nod, gaze now pinned to the ground as he gradually guides you forward, step by step, until you’re stable enough to slowly walk on your own. From there, the slightest incline of your head brings your attention to a small spread of food and flowers laid out nicely on a patterned blanket. A warmth comes to settle in your core at the sight, softening your eyes and easing the tenseness in your limbs—contentment reaches you and the stress gained from the ride here begins to fade, if only by a little.

“Hobie, this is so sweet,” you coo, pleasure lightening the tone of your voice.

His rings just as sweetly through the evening air. “Good to hear—would’ve been gutted if you didn’t like it.”

You laugh at the response, casting an affectionate glance at him that just grows fonder upon meeting his charming reciprocation. The bend of his brow, the part and curve of his lips, the crinkle of his eye—all of it has you transfixed for a generous moment, barely able to notice the way your navel aches with longing in your stupor.

The feeling persists throughout the evening, present in every winding conversation and instance of quiet shared between the two of you. It’s rather freeing to be unconstrained by the formalities usually held by the label of a first date and to sense such endearment for the whole of it. There is no talking to only talk—every sentiment has meaning, every word punctuated by some semblance of tenderness; there is no awkward atmosphere brought about by nervous tension—you rest comfortably, leaning back on your hands, as does Hobie, elbows on crossed legs, positioned towards you.

Hours pass by easily in the space, kissing the sky with hues of orange and gold and violet as they bid a teary farewell, trails of light following in the wake of their departure. Yawning clouds push to the east, unlined shapes dissipating with the fleeting luster. Soon, the New York city skyline is only a bleak, black horizon that cradles a half-yolked sun just shy of its surface.

Golden rays grace your skin, full and temperate and real. You’re just about to gush to Hobie about how this is your favorite time of the day when you’re stopped by the shallow movement of his arm.

He shifts to pick the carnation laid closest to your hand, snaps off the longer part of its stem, then tucks it delicately behind your ear. Wordlessly, he adjusts the petals, and grins when they seem to his liking.

You’re practically bursting at the seams when he retracts his hand, fingers ghosting the curve of your cheek on their path back. Heat rushes to your neck, white-hot on a quick shot up to heat every inch of your face. The sensation catches your breath, widens your eye, tucks the tip of your bottom lip between your teeth, and all you can do is sit and watch Hobie as he admires you.

There’s a look in his eye that you hope is reflected in yours, how beautiful he is. The warm vermillion hue of the sun hits his complexion and it’s like there’s nothing else in the world to behold but him.

Suddenly you find yourself reaching for the flowers on the blanket, clasping multiple in one hand and halving the stems with the other.

Leaning forward, palms stained with sap, you place the carnations in each of Hobie’s wicks, uncaring of the smell of chlorophyll or the tremble of your fingers. You only return to your seat and wipe your hands when you finish, the expanse of his head dotted in small blooms, all that’s left of the original bouquet messily cut stems and loose leaves.

A breathy laugh escapes you at the sight, light and happy and bright. “You are so pretty, Hobie,” you whisper, your heart swelling with adoration. “And I wanna kiss you so bad right now.”

He smiles. “I’m not going to stop you,” he says, then wraps his arms around you when you crush your lips to his.

You feel you must be drunk on something, but are entirely too far gone to care the slightest bit. Hobie is every bit as soft and warm as you imagined, his hold homely, his scent familiar. Breathing him in, bergamot, plum, and sandalwood filling your lungs, a dreamy sigh stutters out of your nose before you start to move.

The kiss takes on a steady rhythm then, perhaps the easiest thing you’ve had to follow. Each press of your lips against his finds just the right amount of resistance, the feel of his piercing snug as it nudges you in every shift. Your hands find purchase in cupping his face, fingertips smoothing the silver studs that line his ears and thumbs stroking his cheeks.

Hobie’s touch rests just shy of your waist, the bend of his elbows against your ribs, palms flat against your scapula. His chest rises and falls with every breath, a slight hitch in the motion when you crawl to his lap, sitting in the space between his legs.

The two of you share your own pocket of heaven for a minute longer, then with one last kiss, you part. As your eyes flutter open, Hobie slides a hand off your back to thumb your lip, swiping a finger across your bottom one.

You make a questioning noise but remain unmoving as he works, sliding his digit across sensitive skin.

“My lipstick got on you,” he explains when he finishes, showing you black makeup smeared on his thumb. “I liked the look of it, but didn’t know if you did.”

A gentle laugh spouts from you at his kindness. “I’m all for you giving me a makeover next time,” you say with a grin.

Hobie gives a small chuckle back, delight sparkling in his eye. “Good.”

The afterbuzz of the date still tingles the back of Hobie’s neck even hours later. It’s ten o’clock, the moon at highrise and not a single star in sight in the muddy violet pool that overhangs New York. He’s in the middle of a stakeout, monitoring an energy station reopened as bait for whatever, whoever, might come out in response. The task of fully focusing proves rather hard in the wake of remembering the warmth of you as you held him, the brush of your lips against his, and your small gasps of breath, but he tries anyhow.

Hobie’s just finished shaking off the image of your face in the light of dusk when his watch buzzes. He looks down with a frown, noting the peculiarity of receiving a call this late.

“Gwendy,” he greets, an orange hologram of Stacy appearing with the twist of a dial. “What are you ringing me for?”

“Hey Hobie,” she returns flatly, not providing much else before quickly casting her gaze askance.

From her projection, Hobie can gather that something seems off—Gwen’s stance is completely closed, arms crossed and feet together. What looks like nervousness twists her features, pinches her forehead, pulls her lips tight together. She’s never been good at hiding her emotions, but even this seems exaggerated.

Sobriety seeps into Hobie then, the high of hours ago eroding. “Something wrong?” he asks, voice dropping low.

Gwen pauses, hesitating. “Miguel wants you back at HQ,” is what comes from her after a few seconds. “Now.”

“What about the mission?”

“He just says to leave. There’s been some new intel. That’s all I know.” Gwen swallows thickly, her eyes flickering back to Hobie. “See you soon.”

“Alright, see ya.” The hologram blinks twice, then disappears. Hobie taps on his watch to open a portal back to Earth-928, dubiety sinking its teeth into his thoughts. Miguel was ever the autocrat, so he was never quite fond of the guy, but the way Gwen had come to him—with a fresh feeling that extended beyond terror etched in her expression—that doesn’t sit well. He doesn’t need a spider-sense to recognize that something is amiss.

Somehow, he can’t elude the feeling of dread that creeps to him when he’s swallowed by the vortex.

[creature-of-pizza]

HAPPY ONE YEAR TO THIS BLOG!!

Honestly, I did NOT expect this blog to get as much attention as it did ajkdfhskfkfjsj

When I got into Pizza Tower in February last year, I didn't post anything on here until April due to the crippling fear of being cringe /hj

But I got over that fear, and as a result I met lots of cool people who like my stuff. It really boosted my confidence a bit :’) Thank y’all for that.

ANYHOW-

To celebrate, I’m starting a collab drawing!

w/o text:

Draw your character listening to music with Pepp :> (via sharing earbuds)

Anybody’s allowed to do it! And any character is allowed, whether it’s your fake peppino, your pizza tower oc, sona, etc, it doesn’t matter! (It doesn’t even have to be pt related ;])

This collab will be open forever! Anybody can do it anytime! Be sure to tag me so I can see it!! :D

Love y’all, thank y’all for being amazing. <3

[dracoxsworld]

ARRANGED - Draco M. x Reader | PART 3

“Morning sleeping beauty.” You said to the blonde-haired boy

“What- what the hell?!” Draco exclaimed when he noticed the handcuff on his wrist.

“Yeah I’m pretty sure they don’t trust us anymore to be escapees.” You replied, looking down at your handcuff.

“Do you even remember what happened?” You asked him. He looked you and shook his head.

“They sent dementors after us.” You said. Draco all of a sudden noticed the change in your tone, it was a lot more monotone than before, you spoke in an almost concerning level of calm. Like you were asleep.

“Dementors? Father isn’t supposed to be able to do that,” He said “After the war… He.. they shouldn’t have access-“

“Draco, your family has proven that they can have access to anything they please at this point.” You said irritability. “I’m sorry.” You apologized, your head was pounding, you weren’t sure what the plan was going to be, and neither did he.

“You have a fair point. Father always had a way with things.” He said, focusing on his pale hands.

Your hands rubbed your eyes and then dragged down your face. You were stressed. “So what now?” You asked him. He was silent.

There was a knock at the door, it opened and it was Lucius. Draco’s body froze completely, seemingly in fear. You’ve never seen Draco Malfoy so scared. “Well you two, that was quite the scene.” He started.

He came up to you, as you sat at the edge of the bed. His wand tilted your chin upwards. “I’m guessing you convinced my son to run away from your fate.” He said, his tone reminded you of a poisonous, lethal snake. “You’re correct.” You said, matter of factly. Honestly, it was your idea. But also to cover up for Draco, who still was frozen in fear but at the same time, sitting up straighter once Lucius pointed his wand at you.

“Father, leave her alone, please.” Draco said, voice shaking. “

“Shut it, Draco.” Lucius spat, his dark eyes shooting at his son.

He looked back down at you. “You, my darling, are a bad bad influence.” Lucius “Your family doesn’t exactly hold the spotless reputation, either.” You commented. Lucius gained a devilish grin, he grabbed your shirt by its collar.

“You’re just as twisted as the rest of us, Y/N. Don’t you understand? It’s in your blood.”

“Father!” Draco yelled. Lucius dropped your shirt immediately from shock. You fell back into the bed, rubbing the back of your neck from the shirt digging into your skin. “Before I go. You’re both husband and wife.” Lucius said, walking towards the door, seemingly forgetting what he had just done to you. You and Draco looked at each other. He looked apologetic. “We decided to finish the job since you both decided to take a run for it.” Lucius added. “Happy honeymoon.”

Lucius left the room, leaving you and Draco alone. “Shit.” He said under his breath. You sighed, absolutely nothing went according to plan. You weren't exactly surprised it had gone to a complete shit show, it was rather typical compared to the rest of your life.

-

You and Draco were released about an hour later. Maggie, the worker who had helped you get ready for your wedding yesterday, released you both.

"That was quite the wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy." Maggie said, leading you out of the bedroom. You turned her head in confusion, but then remembered you were both married. "Yes, well, we love the element of surprise, Maggie." Draco said sarcastically. "I suppose so, anyhow, Mrs. Franchies has made you both a breakfast. Mr. Malfoy, I was told to warn you both, and I plead you to actually listen; that the Manor has high security outside. Please, for both of your safety, behave." Maggie said calmly. She looked over at you with pleading eyes. "Please, Mrs. and Mr. Malfoy. Do as you are told." You both reluctantly nodded.

You and Draco both quietly sat at the dining table. It was elegant and could seat probably 40 people. It was black, and the chairs matched with velvet dark green cushions. "Mrs. Franchies is a lovely chef." Draco said quietly. "She'll bring us our breakfast any minute. Eggs, toast, everything you can think of." He said, a bit more confidently. "With orange juice, of course. Freshly squeezed-" "What are we going to do?" I interrupted him. He just stared. I started to tear up. "Stop crying, we'll find a way." Draco said with a bit of a stern tone. You looked up at him.

"We are in a heavily guarded manor. We couldn't even escape with our magic." You said to him, with confusion. "How do you expect we-" "Maybe we should just accept our fate." Draco sneered. "Maybe it's your fate to marry someone you don't love, but it's not mine." You snapped back.

"We are married, Y/N." Draco stressed. "You'll never marry your precious Nicholas." You could feel steam bursting out of your ears. You stood up at the table. Draco's eyes widened "I am done with this conversation, if you won't find a way, I'll leave on my own." You left the dining room, tears falling down your cheeks, you heard Draco calling after you, something about blowing this out of proportion.

-

You laid in your elegant bed, sobbing quietly to yourself when you heard a knock at your door. "What?" you called out. You heard the door open and you looked up. Draco stepped into the room with a plate of breakfast. "You're not supposed to have food in here!" you whispered. "Well I can't just let you starve." Draco said, sounding annoyed with you already. He sat at the end of the bed on your side, handing you the plate. You sat up. "Listen. I know we aren't the biggest fan of each other, but we should make the best of the situation, Y/N." Draco said after a moment, he was looking at his knuckles, trying to avoid eye contact. You ate some food, waiting for him to continue. "I was impressed by you, ya know." Draco admitted. He looked at his ring finger, and perked up. "I completely forgot!" He said, getting up from the bed. You watched him with curiosity. He opened his bedside table drawer and pulled out a dark green velvet box. He went in front of you and gave you the box. You took it in your hand and ran your thumb over the soft velvet. "Open it." Draco said softly.

You opened the box and your eyes widened. Two rings sat in the box, your initials above your ring, a round cut ring with an emerald. It looked beautiful, you must admit. Draco's initials were above his, a black ring with a snake engraved. Typical.

"You don't have to wear yours, at least when you're here." Draco said, taking his and putting it on. "Just.. when we're out, so people don't question anything. People should probably have the impression we're happy." He said.

You looked up at him. "I'll wear mine." You decided, Draco looked surprise. You picked up the delicate looking ring and slipping it on your finger. "You're lucky I am sympathetic." You said to him. He gave you a faint smile, and sat next to you on the bed. "I must admit, you did amazing in that battle." He complimented. You felt your face go hot, but you shoved food in your mouth before he noticed. You nodded, chewing your eggs and toast. "I'm not surprised, though. You were amazing in Hogwarts." You swallowed your food, and smiled faintly. "I suppose you're good too, you protected me quite a bit. Even afterwards, you defended me from your dad." You said. "You're my wife now, I have to. Even if we don't particularly like each other."

"I think we can eventually like each other." You admitted. Draco raised his eyebrows at you. "I suppose for the time being.. we have to, right?" You suggested. He nodded. Draco looked into your eyes, he didn't say anything, he just stared. His face moved closer to yours, and as almost as if you two were magnets, you connected. You felt his lips on yours. They were gentler than you thought they'd be, caring, almost. His hands naturally went up to your face and gently cupped it in his hands, your hands then landed on his biceps, wanting to keep them where they were.

You both pulled away and looked at each other.

"Effective start, Mrs. Malfoy." Draco teased.

[artful-aries]

How do they confess when the reader is oblivious?

For Dottore and Baizhu (seperetely)

Maybe reader is dark just like Dottore and accepts him for who he is. And for Baizhu reader is like hua Tao but just accident prone with a high pain tolerence,

Fluff plz

Hello hello!!! I hope you enjoy :3 I took a bit of creative liberty with the prompt, but the core principle is definitely there

Confessing To An Oblivious Crush (Dottore, Baizhu)

Dottore

He is an interesting one with an oblivious love interest

On the whole, it’s very hard for someone like him to even be with someone that oblivious; it would bring out his usual condescension. He wouldn’t be able to help himself, he would just genuinely see you inability to read between the lines as a lack of intelligence

Nevertheless, the feelings persist no matter what state he assumes your mind to be in

It’s hard for Dottore to think of a way to admit his fascination with you. He’s not scared by any means; he’s far too collected for that, but he is concerned that too subtle of an approach will be entirely missed, but too forward of an approach would chase you off entirely

Instead of confessing, he’s going to study you for a long time. For the purpose of collecting data of course

He watches the things that get you flustered, what makes you mad, disgusted, or utterly overwhelmed when it comes to social interactions, in particular, romantic interactions

Dottore goes as far as to slip you romance books or hire someone to pretend to flirt just to get the chance to study you under these conditions. All the data collected will go towards his own confession. He is a man of results; he won’t take action unless he’s sure that he’s going to get the desired outcome he wants

The data is…mildly concerning to him

He knew you were the oblivious type, but he never suspected the severity. It gives him the urge to dissect your brain to see if he can discover any anomalies between you and the average citizen of Teyvat, but he knows if he does this then he will sorely miss being able to collect other kinds of data that can only be observed while you’re alive

He comes to the conclusion that most traditional means will not work, and he cannot expect you to just “figure it out”. You won’t understand what he is saying unless he is painfully direct

He prefers this outcome anyhow; Dottore isn’t a very romantic man, and he would much rather get the troublesome part out of the way and open up the opportunity to study you more closely

So that’s exactly what he does; he finds the opportune moment under the right circumstances that he carefully determined through his research before giving a simple confession

“I would like to pursue a romantic relationship with you. Are you inclined to accept this proposal?”

The bluntness certainly makes his advance unable to be missed or misconstrued, which works in both of your favors

Baizhu

Initially, Baizhu is definitely one to take a subtle approach in “confessing”. He basically will hint around the subject, saying things in a way that could indicate he has feelings, but has a certain level of deniability should you not want his advances

He wants you, but only if you want him too. He’s also got a bit of inner turmoil as to whether or not he wants a relationship with you to begin with. Certainly not for lack of feelings; he just worries that he will needlessly worry or frighten you with how ill he truly is because of his contract with Changsheng. He doesn’t want you spending your time anxious over him

However, Baizhu quickly realizes that his subtle approach just isn’t going to work. You’re completely oblivious to the fact that he has been subtly flirting with you this entire time. He wonders if he should take this as a sign to stop pursuing your affections, but Changsheng insists that he follow his heart

At the behest of his companion, he will work on being less subtle; buying you gifts, setting time aside for you after hours at Bubu Pharmacy, and complimenting you in more affectionate ways

Not that Baizhu wants you to be sick or injured, but he is thrilled to have you come to his pharmacy for all of your needs. He will personally apply healing salves himself, and wrap up any injury while explaining to you the best method of care.

All of this at the incredibly discounted price of free. He refuses to take a single mora from you for your treatment, reasoning that the world would be poorer without you in it, and that he would rather see you spend the mora on something else you enjoy

If this still doesn’t grab your attention, Baizhu will be a little exasperated. Do you really not know how he feels, or are you feigning ignorance to let him down easy? Either way, he doesn’t want to give up until he gets a definite answer from you

Though confident in most of his endeavors, he’s a little nervous to just come out and say he likes you. He is frail and rather sickly after all, how could anyone find that endearing, let alone attractive?

As time goes on, and he begins to run out of ways to traditional court you and get you to notice how he feels, he will finally break down and just come out and say it

“(Y/N), I hold a lot of affection for you, and I would like to have a relationship with you. Do you feel the same?”

Baizhu nearly coughs up blood during his confession because he’s so nervous about how you may receive it, or worse, you ask for further clarification

Thankfully the Archons bless you with a bit more awareness this night as you stand outside the Bubu Pharmacy, a little dazed at Baizhu’s confession. It’s clear to him that you finally registered his feelings

The tension in his body visibly leaves when you accept and return his feelings, and he will give you a small but warm smile

His desire to break the contract that binds him to an early grave only intensifies now that he has you. He can’t break your heart by leaving you too soon

[kel-lance]

Jjk headcanons/fan theories/ random thoughts/random facts

I made this in a few months time so its prob repetitive

Tsumiki went into her year and 7 month long coma when megumi was 13-14 years old meaning tsumiki missed her sweet 16 :( (she’s a year older than him)

Toji was a good dad in the end (both times) bc he was already dead and told Gojo to take Megumi as a F u/later fix the alliance’s of the clans and to make sure that Megumi would be protected, fed, housed, and taught sorcery bc toji damn well couldn’t much less protect his kids from curses anyhow.

Noaya (and the men of the Zenin clan) abused Mai and maki bc they’re women (implied SA) noaya hinted at asking to beats em up like he used to (could be implied bc he called them hot & Mai has the same face) but he was also possibly teasing since Mai just 💀 but there’s no way he could have known that

It’s worse to be a male Zenin with no cursed energy bc then you’d be absolutely powerless, useless, worthless, etc. no other clan woman would want you and your fam would never coughed for you much less protect you bc why do they have to you were born a Zenin and yet…

So we know Kokichi Toji Mai n maki all were hit with HR but it was just a double whammy to also be twins? Yes. HR hit Toji so hard bc he was the first to be without cursed energy but then Nanako and Mimiko, bc they’re fraternal twins that that’s possible they’re able to both have CE?

Kenjaku stayed in Iori for so long that his stitches healed I’m guessing he planned it all (or saw hat happened which is why he chose Jin (bc there’s no way that’s random) and killed Jin and went to Geto when it was time (did Ken know about the KFC break up too??)

maki had no CE but still couldn’t get in tune with her full potential is bc Mai was there this the twin HR is f’d but there’s probably more chance one could 💀 the other to become powerful but in this instance it was about sacrifice and distance love. Different paths yet they were “the same person” so that’s only with identical twins?

sukuna loves to eat and is a cannibal and lactates and has 4 arms, 6 mouths or more, 20 fingers, many eyes, 4 legs, 10 toes, 3 heads, hopefully 9ft tall in his monster form…. 

stg toji had his divorced dad rock on religiously (nickel back fan don’t even start w me, weezer son nickleback dad)

nobara gonna be used in some way theres no reason to have her status as unknown of not to edge us istg I’ll even take a cursed spirit piloting her to mess with Yuuji more and she’s part of sukuna or some even worse group they gotta fight after the culling game arc

after chapter 253 are maki and yuta dead?? Hopefully Yuta was eaten but on Yutas birthday gege thats foul (I love it) 🫣🤩

It’s past ch253 and we’re waiting for 3/24 for the next chapter but I heard yuta yelled at Hakari to shut up with cursed speech? Or was that earlier 

Maki Mai and Megumi and Tsumiki met probably around the time tsumiki went into that coma/megs entered jjk no wonder hes so formal//doesn’t know them well he was under gojos protection for so long

some jsckass said mais first love is unknown or megumi are you dumb shes in love with her sister no sister kissed the other to give them a sword cooly and die she literally just wanted to be with her no matter what to go to the ends of the earth it didn’t matter as long n as maki was with her but maki knew Mai’s potential to be better than her so she tried to make herself better, leaving Mai behind in the process and they still never hated each other even after all the time away.

mai likes to take care of cacti/the clan favored her over maki bc she has at least some CE//weve only seen maki being affected by her family's rejection (jjk0 makis mom said shed wished shed never have given birth to her as she was a failure and same girlie but my mom chose any and everyone to compare me to) but Mai either didn’t see herself special in that way and put the blame on maki or dealt with it in her own way (maki vs the fam excluding Mai and Megumi // whereas Mai’s version US against the world)

if choso is yuujis brother and kamo is one of chosos distant family, that would mean Yuuji, Choso, Yuki, Todo, and Kamo are all "Brothers" I love the thought of them being super cool and scary together with their cute yuki & Yuuji golden retrievers in a Doberman family

the same people who ship yuki and choso also ship utahime and gojo or shoko and gojo yall have NO comprehension skills at ALL or cant believe men n women b close like Yuuji & Nobara/Power & Denji/ Sasha & Connie/ Nami & Usopp, Franky, or Luffy) 

Kenny planted the first finger by Geto���s twins to Yuuji’s school. they just had to get the finger to the occult club 

Does Kenny have a witch or oracle or even premeditative powers to know the future or did he just plan this out to a T and what is his damn goal 

Yuuji and Yuta are from the same home town bc gege said it’d be easier for the story but then todo also went to Yuuji’s middle school

Nobara dyes her hair lighter and I wonder how often she talks to Fumi back at home. And her grandmother if she’s like me w low contact

Megumi was alone with gojo for almost 2 years (no tsumiki) no wonder he’s so to himself he was probably always with tsumiki before, who decided everything for them (in a big sis way) and he respected it 

Yutas a pos for forgetting how Rika 💀 then trapping her w him bc of how traumatized he was like bruh you also yelled at her the first time u ever yelled at Rika was over another girl and he doesn’t do much else but manipulate like the Pisces man he is (I kin him/made an oc before I found out about his BITCH ass and he got everything word for word but is a dude I’m losing it) 

As an astrologer, I must say Gege’s planning with the character birthdays and everything else I can read from that is incredibly accurate I’ll give examples in the next points

geto’s mission was to go to remote village, he finds curse and exorcizes it, finds the twins the next dy, he kills everyone, he goes back to his pants to get supplies and kills them (prob no his first choice but once again was probably proven right) and runs has been gone for way too long and gojo doesn’t know what th ehhell happened. which is why he was so mad at kfc and geto just had to accept his new role while gojo was still in the past

Toji and Megumi (Kamo, Nobara, Todo) being cancer moons meaning they care about the heart, (todo has other placements making it seem a lil more “shallow” when he just wants a “straight” answer (lmao Megumi)

Yuta being a Leo moon and (outwardly asked) liking the chest

Yuuji being a libra moon liking butts all this makes sense (libra moons are indecisive, will weight out all the possibilities and still want the peaceful side unless there’s such chaos there’s no way for that to happen… then we snap)

Yuuji and Junpei would’ve been perfect friends we already saw but they both just didn’t ask for any of this and chose their own paths, they’re almost parallels of each other 

Geto’s birthchart shows a lot more of wanting to get humanity to evolve where gojos looks more like a POWERFUL cog in the machine 

Yap: Gege basically made this for women I’m sorry boys but why all the beautiful men & perfectly written women & relationships maybe it’s just a rare case where the mangaka actually knows women (or gege is a woman 🤗) & how all the dudes fit a Yaoi archetype & the women,,, they’re perfect & cute & not sexualized (other than maki in jjk0 & the glasses girl in ep 1 getting groped) but everything else is just hot w/o taking ur clothes off kinda energy & thats INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT w everything else going on 

You think something broke in Meimei when she said she wanted to be comforted and Gojo was like bruh I was joking 🙃 

Kirara and Uranme’s gender is yes 👍🏼 

Geto raising the girls as a 17-18yr old is insane same age as Megumi and gojo so for how long was Geto their dad? Inbetween 10 years but when did the girls realize that that wasn’t their dad anymore? I’m guessing Kenny can remember the vessel he takes overs memory or does something to their brain to replace it w him

I doubt a male mangaka can write good women (mostly bc of the stereotype that they’re shut ins but also from just reading/watching with my own eyes and being a woman myself) and add them in correctly, though the thing is in jjk they’re all just in a world but in Naruto and berserk and stuff she’s the add in into /their/ world where they keep fighting bc they miss each other and she gotta be used and a pillar for them or an excuse like Nobara and shoko weren’t used like that by satsug and itafushi they were their own ppl w their own sh like don’t get me wrong vasca and Sakura also were their own people but they really were given the bottom of the barrel sh bc of the dudes decisions. Shoko and Nobara strictly did what they wanted instead of falter to men

They’re literally all kids it doesn’t matter if some are weaker or useless, imagine a god/demon came here rn like the strongest will survive/fight you have to also apply the “weak characters” to irl bc I bet you they’re still stronger than most of us (miwa, Kamo, idk about momo still but she been w them I can’t doubt her skill just cause they had POWERFUL enemies

Gojo not being able to drink makes sense no drugs to impair his power and eyes (maybe lightweight maybe uncontrollable drunk and no one’s really ready or able to control that) 

Gojo isn’t coming back and he wouldn’t bc he half assed the fight and now he’s with his love and everyone has to fend for themselves now 

I like to think Gojo had Megumi and tsumiki, Geto had Nanako and Mimiko and nanami had Nobara and Yuuji in this preschool/parent AU (tojis gojos ex baby daddy) 

All of them are taller than me other than momo and Nobara. (Im 5’4” so gojos 10 years older and a foot taller 🫣) 

In one of Geges book covers it has Gojo in the winter w pink camellias and those flowers mean ily even after death and that flower is also specifically for the birthday feb3 (Geto’s) AGAIN WHY I THINK GEGES A WOMAN RAHHHHH

Maki, Mai, Toji, Kamo, Kokichi were all raised w no love like at all. Yuta had it good til 11, Miwa, yuuji and megumi never fully had it good, todo, Toge (?), Panda, momo, and nobara were just chillin.

HOW DID NOBARA COME UP WITH HER TECHNIQUE THEYRE ALL EMO BITCHES SHE WAS LITERALLY 16 FOR 2 MONTHS BEFORE HER FACE BLAST

SHE WAS SO YOUNG HOW DID SHE COME UP WITH HAMMERING NAILS INTO HERSELF WHAT

Uranme and Kirara go by (they/them)

Gojo and Geto were soulmates no matter the relationship

Utahime, Shoko, Momo, Mai and Nobara all like girls 

Gojo knew Geto for the short amount of time but thought of him for 5x longer.

Megumi’s been without his sister for 1.5 years so she went into a coma when he was 13, his 2nd-3rd year of junior high)

  Mai and maki didn’t know about Toji and Megumi until that year (2018)

Kenjaku planted the first finger at Yuuji’s school by Nanako and Mimiko (they’re the same age) hence why thanking Satsuki for taking care of his son

The person Rika is gone, her cursed spirit is what remains (an embodiment of her love/the curse yuta placed on her)

Yuta is wrong for using Rika and forgetting about his promise and why she’s even there for 6 YEARS then yelling at her about Maki 

Shoko started smoking in high school and stopped about 5 years ago, but started again when she heard Geto was alive again. 

Sukuna has 6 mouths, 4 arms, 4 legs, many eyes, and lactates. 

Choso, Yuuji, Kamo, Todo, and Yuki are all “brothers” by blood or not idc i love their lil weirdo family.

Toji was a good dad, dealt the worst hand, everything going down so the best way to protect his kids is to give them to people who can kill curses and teach them about sorcery. 

Nobara and Yuuji have the same friendship as Power and Denji, Nami and Franky/Luffy/Usopp